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ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA
SEVENTH EDITION.
'T
THE
ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA
OR
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 VII.
ADAM AND CHARLES BLACK, EDINBURGH;
M.DCCC.XLII.
ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA
C L O
Clodius I^LODIUS, Publius, a Roman descended of an illus-
1 || trious family, who rendered himself famous for his
Cloghna- licentiousness, avarice, and ambition. He introduced him-
kilty. self in women’s clothes into the house of Julius Caesar,
whilst Pompeia, Caesar’s wife, of whom he was enamoured,
was celebrating the mysteries of the Bona Dea, where no
man was permitted to appear. He was publicly accused
of this violation of human and divine laws; but he got
himself chosen tribune, and by this means screened him¬
self from justice. He descended from a patrician into a
plebeian family in order to become tribune. He was such
an enemy to Cato that he got him appointed with praeto¬
rian power to command an expedition against Ptolemy,
king of Cyprus, that by the difficulty of the campaign he
might ruin his reputation, and destroy his interest at
Rome during his absence. Cato, however, by his uncom¬
mon success, frustrated the designs of Clodius. This man
was also an inveterate enemy of Cicero, and by his influ¬
ence got him banished from Rome, partly on pretence that
he had punished with death and without trial the adhe¬
rents of Catiline. He wreaked his vengeance upon Cice¬
ro’s house, which he burnt, and set all his goods to sale;
but, to his great mortification, no one offiered to buy them.
In spite of Clodius, Cicero was recalled, and all his goods
were restored to him. Clodius was some time afterwards
• murdered in an accidental rencontre by Milo, whose de¬
fence Cicero undertook, and wrote, but did not pronounce,
the celebrated oration joro Milone, which is considered as
his masterpiece.
CLOEBURY-Mortimer, a market-town of the hun¬
dred of Stoddesden, in Shropshire, 137 miles distant from
London. It is situated on the river Cleme, near the Clie
Hills. The market is held on Thursday. The inhabit¬
ants amounted in 1821 to 1602, and in 1831 to 1716.
CLOGHER, an episcopal town of Ireland, in the coun¬
ty of Tyrone, and province of Ulster. In a very early age
an abbey of regular canons, dedicated to the Virgin Mary,
was founded here. This was once a place of some conse¬
quence, but there is nothing about it now which entitles
it to its former appellation of city. It is distant about 105
miles north-west of Dublin.
CLOGHNAKILTY, or Clonakilty, a market, post,
and fair-town of Ireland, in the county of Cork. It is in a
VOL. VII.
C L O
rapid state of improvement, the annual value of sales of Cloister
linen and yarn effected here amounting to upwards of II
£30,000. There are here a permanent barrack, an endowed Clonmell.
classical school, two subscription and two endowed poor-
schools. It is distant 198 miles south-west from Dublin.
The population amounts to 4033.
CLOISTER, a habitation surrounded with walls, and in¬
habited by canons or religious persons. In a more general
sense, cloister is used for a monastery of religious persons
of either sex. In a more restricted sense, cloister is used
for the principal part of a regular monastery, consisting
of a square built around, which is ordinarily between the
church, the chapter-house, and the refectory, and over
which is the dormitory. The cloisters served for several
purposes in the ancient monasteries. Petrus Blesensis ob¬
serves that it was there the monks held their lectures.
The lecture of morality was at the north side, next the
church ; the school was on the west, and the chapter-house
on the east; while spiritual meditation, and the like, were
reserved for the church. Lanfranc observes that the pro¬
per use of the cloister was for the monks to meet in and
converse together, at certain hours of the day. The form
of the cloister was square ; and it had its name claustrum,
from claudo, “ I shut or closeas being inclosed on its
four sides with buildings. Hence, in architecture, a build¬
ing is still said to be in the form of a cloister when there
are buildings on each of the four sides of the court.
CLONES', a town of Ireland, in the county of Monagh¬
an, and province of Ulster. It is a place of considerable
antiquity. An abbey for regular canons was founded here
in the beginning of the sixth century. Near the town
are the ruins of an abbey and chapel, two Danish raths,
and one of the ancient pillar towers peculiar to Ireland.
It is distant from Dublin eight-five miles north-west by
north. The population amounts to 2240.
CLONMELL, the assize town of the county of Tippe¬
rary, in Ireland, is situated on the river Suir, which is na¬
vigable from this town to Carrick and Waterford. This
place is of considerable antiquity, and was originally pro¬
tected by walls and a castle ; but these were destroyed by
Cromwell. The town consists at present of several good
streets, a market-house, court-house, jail, church, Roman
Catholic chapel, and other public buildings; and it has a
2 C L O
C L O
Cloud.
Close handsome bridge of twenty arches over the Suir. The
manufacture of woollens is carried on here; and there is
a considerable carrying-trade of agricultural produce from
this place to the sea-port of Waterford, by means of the
river Suir. The celebrated Sterne wras born here. It is
distant from Dublin 123 miles south-west by south.
CLOSE, in Heraldry. When any bird is drawn in a coat
of arms with its wings close down about it (that is, not dis¬
played), and in a standing posture, they blazon it by the
word close; but if it be flying, they call it volant.
Close-Hauled, in Navigation, the general arrangement
or trim of a ship’s sails when she endeavours to make
progress in the nearest direction possible towards that
point of the compass from which the wind blows. In this
manner of sailing the keel commonly makes an angle of
six points with the line of the wind; but sloops and some
other small vessels are said to sail almost a point nearer.
All vessels, however, are supposed to make nearly a point of
lee-way when close-hauled, even when they have the ad¬
vantage of a good sailing breeze and smooth water. The
angle of lee-way, however, increases in proportion to the
increase of the wind and sea. In this disposition of the
sails they are all extended sideways on the ship, so that
the wind, as it crosses the ship obliquely towards the stern
from forwards, may All their cavities. But as the current
of wind also enters the sails in an oblique direction, the
effort of it to make the ship advance is considerably dimi¬
nished ; she will therefore make the least progress when
sailing in this manner. The ship is said to be close-haul¬
ed, because at this time her tachs, or lower corners of the
principal sails, are drawn close down to her side to wind¬
ward, the sheets hauled close-aft, and all the bow-lines
drawn to their greatest extension, to keep the sails steady.
CLOTH, in commerce, a manufacture made of wool,
and woven in the loom. See Woollen Manufacture.
CLOTHO, the youngest of the three Farcae, daughters
of Jupiter and Themis. She was supposed to preside over
the moment when men were born. She held the distaff in
her hand, and spun the thread of life, whence her name
xXwfciv, to spin. She was represented as wearing a crown
with seven stars, and covered with a variegated robe.
CLOUD, a collection of vapours suspended in the at¬
mosphere.
Cause of That the clouds are formed from the aqueous vapours,
the forma- which before were so closely united with the atmosphere
tion of as to be invisible, is universally allowed ; but it is no easy
clouds un- matter to account for the long continuance of some very
opaque clouds without dissolving, or to give a reason why
the vapours, when they have once begun to condense, do
not continue to do so till they at last fall to the ground
in the form of rain, snow, &c. The general cause of the
formation of clouds, it has been supposed, is a separation
of the latent heat from the water of which the vapour
is composed. The consequence of this separation must
be the condensation of that vapour, in some degree at
least. In such case it will first appear as a smoke, mist, or
fog, which, if interposed betwixt the sun and earth, will
form a cloud; and the same causes continuing to act, the
cloud will produce rain or snow. But though the separa¬
tion of this latent heat in a certain degree is the immedi¬
ate cause of the formation of clouds, the remote cause, or
the changes produced in the atmosphere, by which such a
separation may be induced, are much more difficult to be
discovered. In common observation, we see that vapour
is most powerfully condensed by cold substances, such as
metals, water, and the like. But cold alone cannot in all
cases cause the condensation of the atmospherical vapours,
otherwise the nights behoved to be always foggy or cloudy,
owing to the vapours raised during the day by the heat
of the sun being condensed by the superior coldness of the
certain.
night. Great rains may happen in very warm weather, Cloud,
when the union of the vapours with the atmosphere ought
rather to be promoted than dissolved, if cold were the only
agent in their condensation. The serenity of the atmo¬
sphere, also, in the most severe frosts, abundantly shows
that some other cause besides mere heat or cold is con¬
cerned in the formation of clouds and the condensation of
the atmospherical vapours.
The electric fluid is now so generally admitted as an
agent in all the great operations of nature, that it is no
wonder to find the formation of clouds attributed to it.
This has accordingly been stated by Beccaria as the
cause of the formation of all clouds whatsoever, whether
of thunder, rain, hail, or snow. The first, he thinks, are
produced by a very great power of electricity, and the
others by one more moderate. But though it is certain
that all clouds, or even fogs and rain, are electrified in
some degree, it still remains a question whether the clouds
are formed in consequence of the vapour of which they are
composed being first electrified, or whether they become
electrified in consequence of its being first separated from
the atmosphere, and in some measure condensed. This
has not yet, as far as we know, been ascertained by the
experiments of Beccaria, or of any other person ; and in¬
deed, notwithstanding the multitude of electrical discove¬
ries which have been made, there seems to be little or no
foundation for ascertaining it. Electricity is known to be
in many cases a promoter of evaporation ; but no experi¬
ments have as yet been brought to prove that electrified
air parts with its moisture more readily than air that is not
electrified: and hence, until the properties of electrified
air are further investigated, it is impossible to lay down
any rational theory of the formation of clouds upon this
principle.
But whether the clouds are produced, or, in other words,
the invisible vapours floating in the atmosphere condensed
so as to become visible, by means of electricity, or not, it
is certain that they do contain the electric fluid in incon¬
ceivable quantities, and that many terrible and destruc¬
tive phenomena have been occasioned by clouds very
highly electrified. Perhaps the most extraordinary in¬
stance of this kind on record happened in the island of
Java in August 1772. On the 11th of that month, at
midnight, a bright cloud was observed covering a moun¬
tain in the district called Cheribon, and at the same time
several reports like those of a gun were heard. The peo¬
ple who dwelt upon the upper parts of the mountain not
being able to fly fast enough, a great part of the cloud,
almost three leagues in circumference, detached itself
under them, and M as seen at a distance rising and falling
like the waves of the sea, and emitting globes of fire so
luminous that the night became as clear as day. The ef¬
fects of this phenomenon were astonishing. Every thing
was destroyed for seven leagues round; the houses u^ere
demolished, plantations were buried in the earth, and
2140 people lost their lives, besides 1600 head of cattle,
and a vast number of horses, goats, and other animals.
Another instance of a very destructive cloud, the elec¬
tric quality of which will at present scarcely be doubted,
is related by Mr Brydone, in his Tour through Malta. It
appeared on the 29th of October 1757. About three quar¬
ters of an hour after midnight, there was seen to the south¬
west of the city of Melita, a great black cloud, which, as it
approached, changed its colour, till at last it became like
a flame of fire mixed with black smoke. On its approach
a dreadful noise w'as heard, which alarmed the whole city.
It passed over the port, and came first on an English ship,
which in an instant was torn in pieces, and nothing left
but the hulk; part of the masts, sails, and cordage, were
carried to a considerable distance along with the cloud.
C L O
Cloud. The small boats and feluccas that fell in its way. w^ere
all broken to pieces and sunk. The noise increased and
became more frightful. A sentinel, terrified at its approach,
ran into his box ; but both he and it were lifted up and car¬
ried into the sea, where he perished. It then traversed a
considerable part of the city, and laid in ruins almost every
thing that stood in its way. Several houses were leyelled
with the ground, and it did not leave a steeple standing in
its passage. The bells of some of them, together with the
spires, were carried to a considerable distance ; the roofs
of the churches were demolished or beat down. It went
off at the north-east point of the city, and demolishing the
light-house, is said to have mounted up into the air with a
frightful noise, and passed over the sea to Sicily, where it
tore up some trees, and did other damage, but nothing con¬
siderable, as its fury had been mostly spent at Malta. The
number of killed and wounded amounted to nearly two hun¬
dred ; and the loss of shipping, &c. w^as very considerable.
The effects of thunder-storms, and the vast quantity of
electricity collected in the clouds which produce these
storms, are so well known, that it is superfluous to men¬
tion them. It appears, however, that even the clouds
are not so highly electrified as to produce fatal effects
on those who are immersed in them. It is only the dis¬
charge of part of their electricity upon such bodies as are
either not electrified at all, or not so highly electrified
as the cloud, that does all the mischief. We have, how¬
ever, only the following instance on record, of a person
immersed in the body of a thunder-cloud. Professor Saus-
sure and young Mr Jalabert, when travelling over one of
the high "Alps, were caught among clouds of this kind;
and, to their astonishment, found their bodies so full of
electrical fire, that spontaneous flashes darted from their
fingers with a crackling noise, and the same kind of sen¬
sation as when strongly electrified by art.
Height of The height of clouds in general is not great; the sum-
the clouds, mits of very high mountains being commonly quite free
from them, as Mr Brydone experienced in his journey up
Mount iEtna. But those which are most highly electrified
descend lowest, their height being often not more than
seven or eight hundred yards above the ground ; nay, some¬
times thunder-clouds appear actually to touch the ground
with one of their edges ; yet the generality of clouds are
suspended at the height of a mile, or little more, above the
earth. Some, however, have imagined that clouds rise to
a most incredible and extravagant height. Maignan of
Toulouse, in his Treatise of Perspective, gives an account
of an exceedingly bright little cloud that appeared at mid¬
night in the month of August, and spread itself almost
as high as the zenith. Pie says that the same thing was
also observed at Home; and thence concludes that the
cloud was a collection of vapours raised beyond the pro¬
jection of the earth's shadow, and consequently illuminat¬
ed by means of the sea. This, however, can by no means
be credited ; and it is much more probable that this cloud
owed its splendour to electricity, than to the reflection of
the solar beams.
Their curi- In the evenings after sunset, and the mornings before
ouscolours. sunrise, we often observe the clouds tinged with beautiful
colours. They are mostly red, sometimes orange, yellow,
or purple, more rarely bluish, and seldom or never green.
The reason of this variety of colours, according to Sir
Isaac Newton, is the different size of the globules into which
the vapours are condensed. But this is controverted by
Mr Melville, who thinks that the clouds reflect the sun’s
light precisely as it is transmitted to them through the at¬
mosphere ; which reflects the most refrangible rays in the
greatest quantity, and therefore ought to transmit the least
refrangible ones, red, orange, and yellow, to the clouds,
which accordingly appear most commonly of those colours.
C L o 3
In this opinion he was greatly confirmed by observing, Cloud,
while he was in Switzerland, that the snowy summits of
the Alps turned more and more reddish after sunset, in the
same manner as the clouds ; and he imagines that the semi¬
transparency of the clouds, and the obliquity of their si¬
tuation, tend to make the colours in them much richer and
more copious than those on the tops of snowy mountains.
The motions of the clouds, though sometimes directed Of the mo-
by the wind, are not always so, especially when thunder isti°ns °f
about to ensue. In this case they seem to move very slow- cloutls'
ly, and often to be absolutely stationary for some time. The
reason of this most probably is, that they are impelled by
two opposite streams of air nearly of equal strength, by
which means their velocity is greatly retarded. In such
cases both the aerial currents seem to ascend to a very
considerable height; for Messrs Charles and Roberts, when
endeavouring to avoid a thunder-cloud in one of their aerial
voyages, could find no alteration in the course of the cur¬
rent, although they ascended to the height of four thou¬
sand feet from the surface of the earth. In some cases
the motions of the clouds evidently depend on their elec¬
tricity, independently^ of any current of air whatsoever.
Thus, in a calm and warm day, we often see small clouds
meeting each other in opposite directions, and setting out
from such short distances, that we cannot suppose any"
opposite winds to be the cause of such motions. These
clouds, when they meet, instead of forming a larger one,
become much less, and sometimes vanish altogether; a
circumstance undoubtedly owing to the discharge of op¬
posite electricities into each other. This serves also to
throw some light on the true cause of the formation of
clouds; for if two clouds electrified, the one positively
and the other negatively, destroy each other in contact,
it follows, that any quantity of vapour suspended in the
atmosphere, while it retains its natural quantity of elec¬
tricity, remains invisible, but becomes a cloud when elec¬
trified either plus or minus. A difficulty, however, still
occurs, namely, in ‘what manner a small quantity of va¬
pour surrounded by an immense ocean of the same kind of
matter can acquire either more or less electricity than
that which surrounds it; and this indeed we seem not as
yet to have any data to solve in a satisfactory manner.
The shapes of the clouds are likewise undoubtedly owing Their
to their electricity; for in those seasons in which a great shapes,
commotion hasbeen excited in the atmospherical electricity,
we shall perceive the clouds assuming strange and whimsi¬
cal shapes, which vary almost every moment. This, as well
as the meeting of small clouds in the air, and then vanish¬
ing upon contact, is an almost infallible sign of thunder.
Besides the phenomena of thunder and rain, the clouds Connee-
are intimately connected with those of wind, and always tion of the
assume a particular shape when a strong continued wind clouds with
is about to ensue; though it is remarkable, that in the wind,
strongest winds we often observe them stationary. Some¬
times also, on the approach of a cloud, we find a sudden
and violent gust of wind arise ; while at others, the wind,
though violent before, ceases on the approach of a cloud,
and recovers its strength as soon as the cloud is past.
This connection of the clouds with wind is most remark¬
able in mountainous countries, where the peaks are suffi¬
ciently high to have their tops involved in clouds. There
is a very remarkable mountain of this kind at the Cape of
Good Hope, from the clouds on whose top, according to
the relations of travellers, the winds issue forth as if they
had been confined in a bag; and something similar has
been observed of mountains in other parts of the world.
The uses of the clouds are evident, as from them pro- -pjie-r U;)eg
ceeds the rain which refreshes the earth, and without
which, according to the present system of nature, the
whole surface of the earth must be a mere desert. They
C L U
Cluvier.
Cloud, St are likewise of great use as a screen interposed between
II the earth and the scorching rays of the sun, which are
often so powerful as to destroy the grass and other tender
vegetables. In the more secret operations of nature, also,
where the electrical fluid is concerned, the clouds bear a
principal share, and serve especially as a medium for con¬
veying that fluid from the atmosphere into the earth, and
from the earth into the atmosphere; but in doing this,
when electrified to a great degree, they sometimes produce
terrible effects. This subject will be further treated under
the article Meteorology.
CLOUD, St, a town of France, in the department of
the Seine and Oise. It is in a fine situation, overlooking
the most beautiful part of the Seine. The palace and park
are elegant and tasteful. It contains many other houses
on a small scale, and 1250 inhabitants. It is a great re¬
sort of the Parisians, especially at those times when the
waters are exhibited.
CLOVIO, Giorgio Giulio, historical and portrait
painter, was born in Sclavonia in 1498. Having in the
early part of his youth applied himself to literature, his
genius prompted him to pursue the art of painting as a
profession ; and at the age of eighteen he went to Rome,
where he spent three years to perfect himself in draw¬
ing, and devoted himself entirely to painting in miniature.
His knowledge of colouring was derived from the in¬
structions of Julio Romano, and his taste in composition
and design was formed by the observations he made on
the works of Michael Angelo Buonarotti. With this as¬
sistance he arrived at such a degree of excellence in por¬
trait as well as in historical painting, that he was account¬
ed equal to Titian in the former, and in the latter not infe¬
rior to Buonarotti himself. He died in 1578.
CLOVIS I. was the real founder of the French mo¬
narchy. He was the first who conquered the several pro¬
vinces of Gaul, which before his time had been possessed
by the Romans, Germans, and Goths. Having united these
to the then scanty dominions of France, he removed the seat
of government from Soissons to Paris, and made this city
the capital of his new kingdom. He died in 511, in the
forty-sixth year of his age and thirty-first of his reign.
CLOYNE, a town of Ireland, in the county of Cork,
and province of Munster. It is hut a small place, though
an episcopal residence. A church was built, and a bi¬
shopric erected here, by St Colman, who died on the 4th
of November 604 ; and an abbey was also founded in 707.
In 1430 the bishopric was united to that of Cork; but
since the year 1678 this see has been governed by its own
prelates, one of whom was the celebrated Berkeley. The
population of the town amounts to 1847.
CLUNY, a city of the department of the Saone and
Loire, in France, on the river Grone. It contains 467
houses, and 4019 inhabitants, who are employed in mak¬
ing hats, gloves, cotton twist, and other articles. It is
celebrated on account of its large Benedictine monastery,
the buildings of which resemble a city, while its church is
600 feet in length and 120 in breadth. It has producedmany
eminent men at different periods, and given to the church
no less than six popes, among whom may be mentioned
Pope Gregory VII. Long. 4. 33. 45. E. Lat. 46. 24. N.
CLUPEA. See Herring.
CLUVIER, Philip, in Latin Cluverius, a celebrated
geographer, born at Dantzic in 1580. He was originally
intended for the bar, but nature had designed him for dif¬
ferent pursuits. He travelled into Germany and the Ne¬
therlands, in order to study law; but while at Leyden,
Joseph Scaliger persuaded him to give way to his genius
for geography. Cluvier followed his advice, and for this
purpose visited the greater part of the European states.
He was well versed in many languages, and wherever he
c o A
went he obtained friends and protectors. On his return
to Leyden, he taught there with great applause ; and died
in 1623, at the age of forty-three. He wrote, 1. De tri- ^
bus Rheni alveis atque ostiis, et de quinque populis quondam
accolis, inserted in the Recueil des Antiquites de la Ger-
manie Inferieure, Leyden, 1611, 4to ; 2. Germanic Anti-
quae lihri ires, necnon Vindelicia et Noricum, Leyden,
1616, 2 vols. fol.; 3. Sicilies Antiques libri duo, Sardinia ac
Corsica Antiques, Leyden, 1619, fol.; 4. Italia Antiqua,
Leyden, 1624, two vols. in one, fol.; 5. Introductionis in
Universam Geographiam tarn veterem quam novam, libri
sex, Leyden, 1629, 12mo. The best edition of this last
work is that of Amsterdam, 1729, in quarto, with notes by
Bunon, Hekel, and De la Martiniere.
CLYDE, a large river of Scotland, formed by a concen¬
tration of a number of rivulets rising amidst the mountains
and wastes which separate Lanarkshire from the counties
of Peebles and Dumfries. This river is the third in point
of magnitude in Scotland, but the most useful for com¬
merce. From its source it pursues a northerly course,
and after being joined by a number of tributaries, and
flowing for nearly an hundred miles, it discharges itself
into the broad expanse of the Atlantic, through the great
estuary called the Frith of Clyde. Some of the numerous
cataracts which it forms in its progress to the ocean, par¬
ticularly those of Corra Linn and Stonebyres, are consi¬
dered as among the finest of the kind in Great Britain. It
is navigable for small vessels up to Glasgow. The canal
which connects it with the Forth falls into the Clyde ten
miles below that city.
CLYTEMNESTRA, in fabulous history, the daughter
of Jupiter and Leda. She married Agamemnon ; but
whilst that prince was at the siege of Troy, she had an
amorous intrigue with TEgisthus, whom she engaged to
murder Agamemnon on his return to his dominions. Her
son Orestes, however, revenged the death of his father by
killing iEgistbus, and his mother Clytemnestra; but he
was afterwards haunted by the huries as long as he lived.
COACH. Few things have been more often or more
unsuccessfully defined than this well-known and useful
vehicle. Of the descriptions which have been given of it,
many might with as much propriety be applied to various
other machines of conveyance, which it would be a viola¬
tion of language to dignify with the name of coach. The
nearest approximation to a definition appears to be, that it
is a vehicle for commodious travelling, the body of which
is covered in, and suspended by means of springs upon the
frame-work to which the wheels are attached, the latter
being sometimes two, and sometimes four in number. It
does not appear that the ancients were acquainted with
carriages of this description, although chariots and wag¬
gons, both open and covered, were employed in very re¬
mote ages.
In Britain, and throughout Europe, coaches are drawn
by horses, except in Spain, where mules are used for the
purpose. In a part of the East, especially the dominions
of the Great Mogul, coaches are commonly drawn by
oxen. In Denmark, rein-deer are sometimes harnessed in
coaches, though rather for curiosity than use. The coach¬
man is ordinarily placed on a seat raised before the body
of the coach; but in Spain policy displaced him from that
position by a royal ordinance, on occasion when the Duke
d’Olivares discovered that a very important secret, re¬
specting which he had conferred in his coach, had been
overheard and revealed by his coachman. Since that time
the place of the Spanish coachman is the same with that
of the French stage coachman and our postilion, namely,
on the first horse on the left.
According to Professor Beckmann (History of Inven¬
tions and Discoveries), coaches of some kind were known
Clyde
II
Coach.
o
C O A
C O A
Coach, about the beginning of the sixteenth century; but the use
of them was limited to women of the highest rank, it being
accounted disgraceful in men to ride in them. It ap¬
pears, from the history of that period, that the electors
and princes of the empire, when they did not choose to
attend the meetings of the states, excused themselves to
the emperor by informing him that their health would not
permit them to travel on horseback ; and it was considered
as unbecoming to ride in carriages like women. But it
seems also pretty certain that, about the end of the fif¬
teenth century, the emperor, kings, and some princes, tra¬
velled in covered carriages, and also employed them in
public solemnities.
The nuptial carriage of the first wife of Leopold, a Spa¬
nish princess, cost, including the harness, 38,000 florins.
The coaches used by that emperor are thus described:—
In the imperial coaches no great magnificence was to be
seen, being covered over with red cloth and black nails.
The harness was black, and no gold was to be seen in the
whole work. They had glass pannels, for which reason
they were called imperial coaches. The harness was or¬
namented with fringes of red silk on days of festivity.
The imperial coaches were only distinguished by having
leather traces, whilst the ladies in the emperor’s suite
were contented with traces made of ropes. Fifty gilt
coaches, having six horses each, were to be seen, in 1681,
at the court of Ernest Augustus of Hanover. The first
time that plenipotentiaries appeared in coaches was at the
imperial commission held at Erfurt in 1613.
We meet with ample proof in the history of France, that
in the fourteenth, fifteenth, and even sixteenth centuries, Coach,
the monarchs rode on horses, the servants on mules, and
ladies of distinction occasionally on asses. Yet carriages
of some kind seem to have been used in France at an early
period, since there is still preserved a statute of Philip the
Fair, issued in 1294, for the suppression of luxury, in
which the wives of citizens are prohibited the use of car¬
riages.
The oldest coaches used by the ladies of England were
denominated xchirlicotes, a name which has now sunk into
oblivion. About the end of the fourteenth century, when
Richard II. was forced to fly before his rebellious subjects,
he and all his. attendants travelled on horseback, his mo¬
ther alone riding in a coach, because she was indisposed.
But this became afterwards unfashionable, the daughter
of Charles IV. having showed the ladies of England how
conveniently she could ride on a side-saddle.
According to Stowe, coaches first came to be used in
England about the middle of the sixteenth century, hav¬
ing been introduced from Germany by the Earl of Arun¬
del. The English plenipotentiary travelled to Scotland in
a coach in the year 1598, and these vehicles were gene¬
rally used about the year 1605.
Duties on Carriages.—It is long since duties were im¬
posed on carriages, and these have varied considerably at
different periods. The following table exhibits the number
of four-wheeled and other carriages, exclusive of hackney
coaches, upon which duty was charged in 1828 ; the rates
of duty on each kind of carriage ; and the produce of the
duties.
Four-wheeled Carriages.
Carriages charged at progressive rates.
Persons keeping 1
2 
3  
4  
5  
6  
7 
8....; 
9 and upwards.
Total.
Additional bodies.,
Carriages let to hire without horses 
Post chaises and other carriages let to hire with!
horses J
Public stage coaches 
Total.
Two-wheeled Carriages.
Drawn by one horse 
Drawn by two or more horses 
Total.
Additional bodies.
Number of
Carriages.
21,876
5,017
924
244
96
36
14
8
12
28,227
55
472
6,596
2,996
9,647
48,318
425
48,743
14
Rates of
Duty.
£ s. d.
6 0 0
6 10 0
7 0 0
7 10 0
7 17 6
8 4 0
8 10 0
8 16 0
9 1 6
3 3 0
6 0 0
5 5 0
5 5 0
3 5 0
4 10 0
A mount of Duty.
£ s. d.
131,256 0 0
32,610 10 0
6,468 0 0
1,830 0 0
756 0 0
295 4 0
119 0 0
70 8 0
108 18 0
173,514 0 0
173 5 0
2,832 0 0
34,629 0 0
15,729 0 0
1 11 6
53,190 0 0
157,033 10 0
1,912 10 0
158,946 0 0
22 1 0
By 1 Will. IV. c. 35, it is enacted, that for every carriage
with four wheels, each being of less diameter than thirty
inches, drawn by a pony or ponies, mule or mules, above
twelve but not exceeding thirteen hands high, an annual
duty of L.3. 5s. shall be charged. Carriages with four
wheels, drawn by one horse, &c. and no more, are to pay
L.4. 10s. Every carriage with four wheels used by any
common carrier in the carriage of goods, where such car¬
riage is only occasionally used for the conveyance of pas¬
sengers for hire, and in such manner that the stamp-office
duty, or any composition for the same, is not payable under
any license from the commissioners of stamps, is charged
6 C O A
Coach- L.2. 10s. per annum; and where such carriage has less
making, than four wheels, it is only charged L.l. 5s. per annum.
—Any carriage with less than four wheels, each of which is
of less diameter than thirty inches, and not let for hire,
drawn by a pony or mule not exceeding twelve hands high,
is exempt from duty.
Hackney Coaches are coaches stationed in the streets
or other public places, and bound to carry those who re¬
quire them at certain fixed rates of hire, according to
the distance travelled. Vehicles of this description were
first established in London in 1625, and in Edinburgh in
1773. The number of hackney coaches, chariots, and ca¬
briolets licensed in the metropolis on the 1st of January
1830 was 1265. The rates of duty were L.2 per lunar
month for each carriage; and the produce of the duties,
including fines, was L.32,908. 18s. 6d. The fares, &c. are
regulated conformably to the act 48 Geo. III. c. 87.
Stage Coaches, as defined in the act of parliament, 3
Geo. IV. c. 95, sect. 6, are carriages or vehicles used, em¬
ployed, or let out for the purpose of carrying passengers
for hire, and travelling at the rate of three or more miles in
the hour, without regard to the number of wheels, horses,
or passengers, or whether the same be open or close, provid¬
ed each passenger be charged a separate and distinct fare.
The above definition applies to carriages either drawn by
horseS or propelled by steam. The latter species of ve¬
hicles are as yet exempt from taxation, but the following
duties have been imposed upon the former :—Any carriage
or vehicle, with two or more wheels, without springs, and
drawn by one horse only, for every mile which it shall be
licensed to travel, one penny. Any carriage, &c. without
springs, and drawn by two horses only, for every mile, &c.
two pence. Any carriage, &c. having springs, and.drawn
by one horse only, for every mile three half pence. Any
carriage, &c. drawn by two horses only, having springs,
not distinguishing between inside and outside passengers,.
per mile three pence. And any carriage, &c. as last men¬
tioned, drawn by three or more horses, for every mile four
pence half-penny. A duty of L.5. 5s. a year is also im¬
posed upon every stage coach. For various statutes and
I’egulations relating both to stage and hackney coaches,
and which make provision for the safety and convenience
of the passenger, see McCulloch’s Commercial Dictionary,
p. 264-5.
Mail Coaches voce stage-coaches of a particular construc¬
tion, which, for a certain consideration, carry his majesty’s
mails, are protected by a guard, and subject to the regu¬
lations of the post-office.
Coach-making is a combination of crafts, such as are
very rarely united in one calling or trade. The techni¬
cal names of those composing the different branches are,
body-makers, carriage-makers, wheelers, spring-makers,
axle-makers, smiths, trimmers, &c. Painting is an im¬
portant part of the business; and those professing it are
divided into body, carriage, and heraldry or ornamental
painters. These classes of workmen have each their own
department in the construction of a coach, and none of them
can be dispensed with. Under the general head of coach¬
making a great variety of different kinds of vehicles are
produced, such as close coaches, landaus, landaulets, cha¬
riots, phaetons, briskeys, gigs, &c.; of the three kinds
last named, there are almost infinite varieties, both with
regard to construction and the manner of finishing. The
fashion with respect to these is about as fluctuating and
mutable as that of dress. One thing is certain, however,
that in neatness and general utility the vehicles of the
present day are superior to those of any former period.
Within the last ten years or so a great revolution has
taken place in regard to coach-making. For a few years
before that period, coach-makers could not get their coach-
C O A
es made short enough in the carriage, nor small enough Coach-
in the body, from the false notion, that being lighter, and nmking.
easier drawn, they would answer the purpose better. There
can be no doubt that they were lighter, and probably easier
drawn, but it has been proved that shortness in the car¬
riage not only makes them harder to ride in, but also hard¬
er on the axles and springs, thus rendering them more apt
to break down.
Noblemen’s and gentlemen’s carriages are now, however,
made a great deal larger in the body ; the carriages them¬
selves are also longer, and the wheels not so high as those
in use formerly. Coaches may be divided into two classes,
namely, gentlemen’s carriages, to which the above remarks
refer, and road coaches. If a revolution has taken place
in regard to the former, much more has it done so in
regard to the latter. A few years ago road-coaches were
made to weigh at least twenty or twenty-five cwts., and
often more, and were then constantly breaking down.
They were generally drawn by four horses, and carried, we
believe, sixteen passengers, besides driver and guard, the
driver changing every stage. Now they are constructed
so as not to exceed twelve or fourteen cwts., and are
drawn by two horses, carry thirteen passengers, and tra¬
vel in about one third less time without changing the
driver, unless the coach travels more than four or five
stages. A broken down road-coach is now a thing rarely
heard of; and, except the mail, they in general have no
guard. Nay, more ; while under the old system, they were
not only high set upon their carriages, but the outside
passengers and luggage were almost exclusively placed
upon the top, and consequently they were easily overset;
while on the present system the bodies are placed low,
and the luggage deposited in large masses before and be¬
hind the vehicle. Above these sit the outside passengers ;
so that the whole load, instead of top weight as before,
acts as ballast to prevent the carriage from oversetting,
and hence the few coach accidents of late, in comparison
with those which used to occur under the old system.
It is proper to observe, however, that the great improve¬
ment in road-making has in no small degree contributed
to the safety and convenience of travelling.
The principal part of the coach-making business depends
chiefly on the selection of the materials for the construc¬
tion of the work; and the first, and not the least in im¬
portance, is the stock of wood. It requires a good deal of
experience to apportion this article so as to apply the
different kinds of it to that part of the work for which it
is the best adapted. Ash is the kind of wood commonly
used in the frame-work both of body and carriage ; and the
quality best suited for body wood is that of a mild and
free nature, while for the carriage the wood cannot be
too strong or robust. Full-grown wood is best suited for
both purposes, because young wood, although of a tough
nature, is found from experience to fail sooner, and not
to last so long as full-grown timber. But in all cases it
must be cut into planks before the log gets into a state of
decay after being felled. The planks must also be allowed
to lie until they are properly seasoned.
After the frame-work is made, the lower part of the
body is pannelled up with bay mahogany of the softest
kind. As the pannels have to be bent into peculiar shapes,
hard mahogany will not answer the purpose. Close coaches
or chariots are covered on the roof and upper quarters
with leather dressed without grease, so as to receive the
painting; whilst the roof and upper quarters of landaus
and landaulets are, in order to afford facilities for opening,
covered with leather properly dressed in oil, and blackened
by the currier upon the grain side, so as not to require
the help of the painter; but to keep it in this pliable state
it requires the constant care of the coachman. The kinds
C O A C O A
Coach of wood generally applied to coach-wheel making are elm coaks are made, but the volatile products are lost. To
II for the naves, oak for the spokes, and ash for the felloes ; save these, Lord Dundonald proposed to burn the coals in
Coak. kut keech felloes are often used ; and it is the opinion of a close furnace, to which he adapted an apparatus for con-
the writer, formed upon experience, that beech, when cut veying the coal-tar, with the ammoniacal products, into
into felloes from the log shortly after it is felled, and kept proper recipients. About the same time Baron Von
until these become dry before being put upon wheels, is Haak, a German, constructed works in the neighbourhood
decidedly the best. Indeed nothing but properly sea- of Newcastle, for distilling the small coal in large cast-
soned wood can be applied to any purpose in the construe- iron cylinders, upon the plan which has since been adopted
tion of a coach. in the gas wmrks ; except that the soot from the fur-
A great improvement has of late years been introduced nace fires is, at Newcastle, during a certain period of the
into the making of coach-springs, from the quality of steel combustion, before any gray ashes have begun to arise,
used in their construction. Formerly nothing w'as used conveyed into a chamber contrived for the purpose, and
but German steel, which from its hardness was more apt collected for lamp-black; an economical practice, which
to snap than the English steel now employed for that pur- does not appear to have been carried into the gas works,
pose. The latter, with superior elasticity, combines a It is probable that, as the practice extends of lighting
strength that enables the spring-maker to fabricate his our towns with carburetted hydrogen gas, most of the
springs at least one third lighter than formerly, while they coak used in manufactures will be furnished in this way;
stand equal fatigue, with less risk of breaking. Although but as the coak thus produced will probably contain more
axles are at present in a high state of perfection, yet no sulphur, it is not likely that it will be fit for the smelting
material improvements have been made upon them for of iron-ore; the coak for which must, therefore, continue
these twenty or twenty-five years. The kinds of axles now to be made in the old way.
chiefly used are the common or plain axle, the mail-coach COAL. See Mineralogy.
patent, and the Collinge patent, which last, when proper- COAL TRADE. The vast importance of coal to the
ly executed, is found to be the best for retaining the oil, arts, manufactures, and general prosperity of Great Britain,
as they are generally found to be in good order in this renders the subject of the coal trade, and also the question
respect after having performed a journey of 500 or 600 as to the period when the exhaustion of our coal mines
miles. The iron mounting of coach-work requires the skill may be anticipated, matters of more than ordinary moment,
of most experienced smiths; for, besides the solidity re- With regard to the latter point, the investigations hither-
quired, a considerable degree of taste to form the shapes to made as to the extent of the coal beds in all directions
and sets of the different parts is necessary. No branch of are too unsatisfactory to afford grounds for coming to any
the coach-making business contributes more to the ele- . thing like an approximation to the truth. One thing, how-
gance of the vehicle than that of the painter. His colours ever, is positively certain, that for a great many centuries
must be of the best quality, and unadulterated, as they to come the supply of coal will be equal to the demand,
have to stand exposure in all weathers. The varnish Mr Taylor, an experienced coal owner, calculates the quan-
used is made from gum, and is called copal varnish, of tit}' consumed in Great Britain and Ireland at 15,586,000
which there are two kinds, the finest being used for finish- tons annually, exclusive of foreign exportation ; and this es-
ing the body, and the second for finishing the carriage, timate does not materially differ from those of Messrs Ste-
Heraldry painting is a very fine art, and requires a know- venson and Bakewell. With regard to the extent of the
ledge of heraldry, combined with considerable practice, coal fields, it is the opinion ot Mr Taylor that those of Dur-
before perfection can be attained. The business of the ham and Northumberland are adequate to furnish the pre¬
trimmer is to make and put in the linings, mount the coach- sent annual supply for more than 1700 years. Dr Buck-
man’s seat, steps, &c., and put on the leather work, bead- land, the celebrated geologist, thinks this estimate much
*ing, &c. Coaches built in London are reputed the most exaggerated ; but he is of the same opinion with Bakewell,
perfect of their kind of any in the world. that in South Wales alone there are coal beds which will
Coach, or Couch, is also a sort of chamber or apart- meet the present annual demand for 2000 years to come,
ment in a large ship of war near the stern. The floor of When we take into account the other extensive coal mines
it is formed by the aftmost part of the quarter-deck, and throughout both England and Scotland, it must appear suf-
the roof of it by the poop. It is generally the habitation ficiently absurd that the exportation of this valuable mine-
of the captain. ral should be cramped by heavy duties, on the ground
COAK, or charred pitcoal, is prepared for the smelting that the mines would become soon exhausted,
of iron ore, by igniting the coals piled up in long ridges From the following report of Mr Buddie, a well-inform-
in the open air, and closing in the cinders with earth, ed coal engineer, it will be seen that the opinion general-
when brought to a glowing red heat. For the use of the ly entertained of the vast profits of coal mining has not
manufacturers, the method hitherto most in practice has been well founded. “ Although many collieries, in the
been to burn the small or screened coal in conical ovens, hands of fortunate individuals and companies, have been
built of firestone or brick, the floor being generally about perhaps making more than might be deemed a reasonable
six feet diameter, and the oven eight feet high, while an and fair profit, according to their risk, like a prize in a
aperture of eighteen inches diameter is left at top. The lottery; yet as a trade, taking fhe whole capital employ-
small coal is thrown in to the depth of fifteen inches or ed on both rivers, he should say that certainly it has not
more, and then ignited. The oven door is at first kept open, been so.” (First Report of the Committee of the House
and the hole at the top left uncovered till the mass is red- of Cords.') On being asked “ What have the coal-owners
hot. I lie door is then closed, and by degrees the hole at on the iyne and Wear, in your opinion, generally made
the top is covered over by two large flat stones, gradually on their capital employed ?” He replied, “ According to
approaching each other, when the whole is left to cool, the best of my knowledge, I should think that by no means
When sufficiently cooled, it is drawn out with long iron ten per cent, has been"made at simple interest, without
rakes, and the mass is found to have assumed a rude colum- allowing any extra interest for the redemption of capital.”
nai arrangement, not much unlike starch. I he oven is im- 'I he high price of coal in the metropolis of England is
mediately charged again with small coal, which the heat not to be ascribed, as was long supposed, to the monopoly
remaining in the floor is found sufficient to ignite, and so of the coal-owners on the Tyne and W7ear, but to the vari-
the operation goes on. In both the above ways good ous charges and duties which have been laid upon it in
i
Coal
Trade.
8
C O A
Coal trade, passing from the hands of the owner into those of the con-
sumer. The price of a chaldron of coals in London in
1830 amounted to L.2.7s. lO^d., which charge was thus ap¬
portioned :
Coal-owner for coal, L.O 13 9
Coal-fitter, ship-owner, municipal dues, &c. Oil
Government duty, corporation charges, and
London coal merchant, 1 5
L.2 10
The government duty of six shillings has been abo¬
lished since the above-mentioned period, but the other
charges remain nearly the same ; and it is the opinion of
all who have minutely examined the subject, that there is
ample room for retrenchment. The charges of those em¬
ployed in the trade are in almost every case exorbitant,
and they arise principally from a pernicious system of mo¬
nopoly which is persevered in. The various municipal
taxes also contribute largely to enhance the price of coal.
For an able and minute analysis of the subject, the reader
is referred to IVLCulloch’s Dictionary of Commerce, p. 274.
The sale of coal by weight instead of by measure will
undoubtedly do away with some of the more flagrant abuses
that have infested the trade. The facilities afforded for
fraudulent dealing under the metage system were ample,
and ^ave rise to serious loss on the part of the coal owner.
It is well known that coal, if broken into pieces of even mo¬
derate bulk, measures a great deal more than when in large
masses. The shippers were well aware of this fact, and
insisted on the proprietors supplying them with great coal
C O A
only; and thus the latter had an immense quantity of Coal trad
small coal thrown on their hands, which they were com-
pelled to burn on the spot. “ I have known,” says Mr
Buddie, in the report above quoted, “ at one colliery as
many as from ninety to a hundred chaldrons a day de¬
stroyed.” Sale by weight, however, has at last abated this
monstrous system.
For a considerable period the duty on large coal export¬
ed was 17s. 6d., and on small coal 4s. 6d. per chaldron. Re ¬
cently, however, a reduction has taken place in the former
impost. The following is the state of the duties levied at
present (1833).
Coals not being small coals, exported to any place not
a British possession, viz. in a British ship, 3s. 4d. per ton ;
in a foreign ship, 4s. per ton.
Small coals, culm, and cinders, exported to any place
not a British possession, viz. in a British ship, 2s. per ton ;
in a foreign ship, 4s. per ton.
The policy of levying a heavy duty on the exportation
of coal, from a dread of draining our mines, is, from the
statements previously made, sufficiently absurd. A further
reduction of the impost on large coal, at least, would be a
source of wealth to the country, and advantage to the re¬
venue.
The following is an account of the quantity of coals,
culm, and cinders, exported from the different ports oi
England, Scotland, and Wales, for ten years ; distinguish¬
ing those sent coastwise to Ireland, to British colonies,
and to all foreign countries, and also distinguishing the
quantities sent to each.
Vears
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
To other Ports of Great Britain (Coastwise).
To Ireland.
Coals (except Small Coals) and
Cinders.
438,045
437,074
463,974
491,094
534,835
547,939
539,760
557,355
595,278
645,471
Chaldrons
Imperial Mea¬
sure.
Small Coals.
Chaldrons
Imperial Mea¬
sure.
2,105,745
2,423,263
2,256,757
2,301,770
2,672,456
2,587,880
2,623,354
2,788,125
2,539,871
2,586,266
18
71
105
427
62
232
25,036
78,758
103,115
75,097
Chaldrons
Imperial Mea¬
sure.
70,934
105,911
97,396
88,953
92,425
121,091
121,357
139,360
127,026
121,201
Coals (except Small Coals) and
Total Quantity 8 Cinders,
sent Coastwise,
stated in Tons
Weight.
Tons.
3,459,508
3.947.908
3.731.908
3,810,239
4,372,839
4,308,571
4,384,433
4,730,307
4,440,318
4,507,935
Tons.
Chaldrons
Imperial
Measure.
To British Colonies.
Coals (except Small Coals) and
Cinders.
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
18271
1828
9,895
9,191
10,521
9,741
13,606
12,211
10,527
42,490
43,963
50,563
Chaldrons
Imperial Mea¬
sure.
42,813
56,500
55,431
54,821
51,281
60,254
69,648
55,231
53,645
•53,277
Small Coals.
Chaldrons Chaldrons
Imperial Mea- ; Imperial Mea¬
sure. ! sure.
1,333
1,784
2,016
18,719
3,448
2,684
5,022
2,796
3,095
2,458
233
254
115
99
63
288
278
118
Total Quantity
exported to Bri
tish Colonies,
stated in Tons
Weight-
Tons.
71,497
90,447
90,423
111,822
89,713
99,575
114,264
123,437
123,109
128,092
156,581
119,609
140,851
156,236
166,131
162,878
159,723
236,052
' 198,857
242,944
354,439
399,743
352,600
376,943
373,333
367.815
368.815
367,849
306,289
336,550
Small
Coals.
Chaldrons
Imperial
Measure.
Culm.
Chaldrons
Imperial
Measure.
Total Quantity
exported to Ire¬
land, stated in
Tons Weight.
21
112
1,607
2,368
119
30
486
15,168
10,946
10,441
10,486
6,415
11,352
15,036
23,599
19,214
21,100
Tons.
669,660
606,400
644,787
694,024
693,413
691,429
695,832
779,584
650,728
740,071
To Foreign Countries.
Coals (except Small Coals) and
Cinders.
Chaldrons Chaldrons
Newcastle Newcastle
Measure. i Measure.
Small
Coals.
Culm.
9,475
7,081
8,236
9,692
5,446
10,952
27,827
45,518
54,090
38.507
22,732
20,536
23,671
22,425
16,579
18,783
15,501
9,222
11,403
11,056
35,712
36.509
37.509
38,892
42,599
44,349
47,671
57,565
59,867
60,315
Chaldrons
Newcastle
Measure.
9
159
218
216
526
515
755
270
478
26
Total Quantity
exported to
Foreign Coun
tries, stated in
Tons Weight.'
Tons.
164,375
158,672
170,941
172,754
163,662
179,617
197,234
223,219
244,222
227,709
C O A
COB
9
Coamings
»
Coat.
The following table exhibits the amount of customs revenue on coals, cinders, and culm, for ten years.
Customs Revenue on Coals, Cinders, and Culm.
On Coals, Cinders, and Culm
brought or carried Coastwise
or by Inland Navigation,
in the United Kingdom.
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
Gross Revenue.
£
957,899
1,086,564
1,019,865
1,006,506
1,145,659
948,810
899,918
972,839
862,526
922,682
a.
17 3|
10 51
2 3-|
1 3|
16 10
14 91
19 91
8 e|
1 44
On Coals, Cinders, and
, Culm exported to
Foreign Parts.
£
48,816 7
48,359 3
50,911 13
52,771 4
44,020 5
42,821 16
43,421 1
40,553 17
45,182 9
41,423 6
s. a.
Hi
li
6|
lOf
10
8
3
2
Total Gross Revenue.
£
1,006,760
1,134,924
1,070,777
1,059,277
1,189,679
991,632
943,339
1,013,393
907,718
964,105
s. a.
17 9f
1 01
3 61
6 10
6 9L
13 84
16
17
‘j
51-
17 4
7 64
Deductions from the
Gross Revenue for Draw- Net Produce of the Duties
backs on Exportation, on Coals, Cinders, and Culm
&c., and Repayments on
Over-Entries.
£ s.
19,891 13
18,928 13
20,744 9
21,425 0
21,911 8
23,340 17
26,109 11
26,309 19
24,349 8
28,017 2
a.
2^
3
24
8“
101
3i
9|
10
41
*2
81
in the United Kingdom.
£ s. i
986,869 4 7
1,115,995 7 9
1,050,032 14 4
1,037,852 6 2
1,167,767 17 11
968,291 16 54
917,230 4
987,083 17
883,369 9
936,088 4
ioi
74
d
10
With regard to the number of persons employed in the
various branches of the coal trade, nothing certain has been
ascertained ; but Mr M‘Culloch is inclined to think that
the number of those directly engaged in it may be set down
at from 160,000 to 180,000. For particulars regarding this
estimate, and also as to the various details connected with
the coal trade, see Dictionary of Commerce, article Coal.
COAMINGS, in ship-building, are the planks, or frame,
forming a border round the hatches, which raise them high¬
er than the rest of the deck. Loop-holes for musketry
are often made in the coamings, in order to clear the deck
of the enemy when the ship is boarded.
COAST, a sea-shore, or the country adjoining to the edge
or margin of the sea. The chief advantages arising from
an extensive sea-coast are, that it affords a convenient op¬
portunity for exportation and importation to and from ail
parts of the kingdom.
Coast Castle, Cape, or Cabo Corso, the capital of
the British settlements on the Gold Coast of Africa. It
was first settled in 1610 by the Portuguese ; but they were
dislodged a few years afterwards by the Dutch, who were
in their turn ejected in 1661 by the British, in whose hands
the place has remained ever since. It is irregularly built,
and dirty; the houses are of clay, and generally of a square
shape. The town is walled, and possesses a fort. The
population amounts to about 8000. Long. 22. W. Lat. 5.
18. N.
COASTING, in Navigation, the act of sailing along
the sea-coast of any country. The principal points relat¬
ing to this branch of navigation are, observance of the
time and direction of the tide, knowledge of the reigning
winds, of the roads and havens, of the different depths of
the water, and the qualities of the ground.
CoastiNG-Pilot, a pilot who by long experience has be¬
come sufficiently acquainted with the nature of any par¬
ticular coast, and of the requisites mentioned in the pre¬
ceding article for conducting a ship or fleet from one part
of it to another.
COAT, or Coat of Arms, in Heraldry, a habit worn
by the ancient knights over their arms, both in war and
tournaments, and still borne by heralds at arms. It was
a kind of surcoat, reaching as low as the navel, open at
the sides, with short sleeves, sometimes furred with er¬
mine and hair, upon which were applied the armories of
the knights embroidered in gold and silver, and enamelled
with beaten tin, coloured black, green, red, and blue; and
hence the rule never to apply colour on colour, nor metal
on metal. The coats of arms were frequently open, and
diversified with bands and fillets of several colours, alter-
VOL. VII.
nately placed, as we still see cloths scarleted, watered,
and the like. Hence they were called devices, as being
divided and composed of several pieces sewed together;
hence the words fess, pale, chevron, bend, cross, sedtier,
lozenge, and the like, which have since become honoura¬
ble pieces, or ordinaries of the shield.
Coat of Mail, a kind of armour made in form of a shirt,
consisting of iron rings interwoven netwise.
COAZZO, a town of Italy, in the province of Susa and
kingdom of Sardinia. It stands at the junction of the
rivers Cangone and Sangonetto, and contains 3200 inha¬
bitants, who carry on a considerable linen weaving trade.
COBADONGA, a small town of Spain, in the province
of Asturias. Its fame has been spread through the penin¬
sula, on account of the antiquity and sanctity of its Gothic
cathedral, in which was consecrated Pelagius, the first of
those zealous Christians that took arms against the Ara¬
bian invaders of Spain. In the retreats in this vicinity,
the first assemblages of the remnant of the Goths were
collected, and from thence they spread with growing
strength, till at length, after more than seven hundred
years of unceasing hostilities, the whole of the Moorish
race was driven from the soil of Spain.
COBALT. The word cobalt is commonly used to de¬
note a metallic ore consisting of arsenic combined with
the metal which is properly called cobalt. It therefore
does not occur in a native state, but in that of different
ores, which, according to their combinations, come under
one or other of the following heads :
1. Gray cobalt, the octahedral cobalt pyrites of Mohs,
and bright or tin-white cobalt of Phillips and Jameson,
whose colour is white inclining to steel-gray, streak gray¬
ish black, and fracture uneven. It contains, according to
Stromej'er,
Cobalt 20-31
Arsenic 74-21
Iron  3-42
With a little sulphur and copper.
It occurs both crystalline and massive, the crystals
being generally rent and cracked. It is met with princi¬
pally in veins accompanying ores of silver or copper, as
at Freyberg, Annaberg, and particularly at Schneeberg in
Saxony ; at loachimsthal in Bohemia ; and at Wheel Spar-
non, near Redruth, in Cornwall.
2. White cobalt. The hexahedral cobalt pyrites of
Mohs, and the silver-white cobalt of Jameson. This ge¬
nerally occurs in cubes and pentagonal dodecahedrons,
having a.very bright metallic lustre, a silver-white colour
tinged at times of a reddish hue, and a cleavage perfectly
10 COB COB
Cobbing parallel to the faces of the cube. It contains, according
H to Stromeyer,
Coburg Cobalt..; 33-10
Arsenic 43-46
Iron  3-23
Sulphur   20-08
At Tunaberg in Sweden it is met with in large, re¬
splendent, distinctly-pronounced crystals ; also at Modum
in Norway, and in Silesia. The richest known mines
are, however, those of Wehna, in Sweden, where, though
the ore only occurs massive, and is associated with mica
slate, it is so easily obtained, and got in such considerable
quantity, as to afford a source of much profit.
Both these ores give off a large quantity of arsenical
fumes when exposed to the action of the blowpipe, and
fuse only after being roasted. They impart a blue colour
to borax and other "fluxes, and afford a pink solution with
nitric acid. The residuum of cobalt, after the sulphur, ar¬
senic, and other volatile matters are driven off by calcina¬
tion, is termed zaffre, and in that state it is imported into
this country for the purpose of colouring earthenware
and making smalt. The colouring power of oxide of co¬
balt on vitrifiable mixtures is greater perhaps than that
of any other metal; one grain giving a full blue to 240
grains of glass.
The remaining ores of cobalt are the red cobalt, arse-
niafe of coball, or cobalt bloo?n as it is called, possessing
a beautiful crimson-red or peach-blossom colour, generally
crystallized in small four-sided prisms, and for the most
part a native of Schneeberg in Saxony, and Saalfeld in
Thuringia ; and cobalt-ochre, a black, brown, or even yel¬
lowish-coloured mineral, forming friable, indurated, earthy-
like masses, which are generally soft to the touch, easily
sectile, and of a comparatively low specific gravity.
COBBING, a punishment sometimes inflicted at sea.
It is performed by striking the offender a certain number
of times on the breach with a flat piece of wood called the
cobbing-board. It is used chiefly as a punishment for those
who quit their station during the night-watch.
COBLE, a boat used in the turbot fishery, twenty feet
six inches in length, and five feet in breadth. It is about
one ton burthen, rowed with three pair of oars, and ad¬
mirably constructed for encountering a heavy sea.
COBLENTZ, a city, the capital of a circle of the same
name, in the Prussian province of the Lower Rhine. The
circle is on both sides of the Rhine, and extends over 135
square miles, or 86,400 acres, and contains four cities,
three towns, and 136 villages, and 40,134 inhabitants.
The city is situated on the left bank of the Rhine, over
which is a flying bridge, connecting it with Ehrenbreitstein.
The situation is beautiful, on an extended plain between
mountains, at the junction of the Moselle with the Rhine.
The soil is highly fertile in the valley, and the sides of
the hills around are covered with vineyards. The city is
walled, but its chief defences are two strong forts, and the
fortress of Ehrenbreitstein, on the opposite side of the
river, which completely command it. The town is well
built, the squares are fine, and some of the public edifices
are magnificent. It contains one Protestant and fourteen
Catholic churches, 1050 houses, with (in 1817) 13,314 in¬
habitants, including tbe garrison.
Owing to the two navigable rivers, it carries on a con¬
siderable trade, especially in Rhine and Moselle wine.
There are some few manufacturers, but none considera¬
ble, as the city depends principally on being tbe seat of
government and of the courts of law, and occupying a po¬
sition on the great road to the interior of Germany. Long.
7. 25. 49. E. Lat. 50. 21. 55. N.
COBURG. See Saxe-Coburg.
Coburg, a city, the capital of the duchy of Saxe-
Coburg. It stands in a pleasant and fruitful district on Cocceius
the river Its, and is surrounded by mountains, whose sides
are covered with vines, and at whose feet are well culti- ,_°C11T^'
vated gardens. It contains 765 houses, and, including
the military, 8154 inhabitants. The ducal palace is a
magnificent pile of building, which incloses the court,
church, and the public library, consisting of more than
25,000 volumes, and all the state papers. -•'Ihere are five
other churches, and appropriate institutions for education
and charity. But the manufactures are few, and the trade
only such as is attracted by the markets and fairs. Long.
10. 52. 59. E. Lat. 50. 15. 14. N.
COCCEIUS, John, professor of theology at Bremen,
was founder of a sect called Cocceians, who, amongst other
singular opinions, held that of a visible reign of Christ in
this world, after a general conversion of the Jews and
all other people to the true Christian faith, as laid down
in the voluminous works of Cocceius. He died in 1699,
at the age of sixty-six.
COCCOLITE, in Mineralogy, a green-coloured variety
of hornblende, which generally occurs massive, or in con¬
cretions so loosely aggregated as to admit of being sepa¬
rated by the fingers. It fuses with difficulty before the
blowpipe, and has a specific gravity of 3-3. It occurs^
with garnet and granular limestone in the iron mines of
Arendal in Norway, at Pargas in Finland, and elsewhere.
COCHABAMBA, a department of Bolivia, in South
America. The climate is mild and the soil productive.
Cochabamba is also the name of a province and town in
this department. The town is situated at an elevation ot
8448 feet above the level of the sea, and is considered as
one of the most healthy and agreeable places in Bolivia.
The population of the department amounts to 435,000.
COCHIN, a small province of Hindustan, on the coast
of Malabar, intersected by the 10th degree of north lati¬
tude. It has the Malabar province on the north, Travan-
core on the south, Dindigul on the east, and the sea on the
west. A portion of this territory, equal to about 745 square
miles, is attached to the district of Malabar, and is subject
to British laws and regulations; but the remainder is un¬
der the independent jurisdiction of the rajah. This coun¬
try is beautiful in the northern parts, about Purgunuru
and Shilacary. It consists of low hills, intersected by nar¬
row fertile valleys, finely wooded, well peopled, and ex¬
tremely well watered by small perennial streams, which
enable tbe cultivators to raise two crops of rice annually.
The high grounds are in general rocky, but the soil is
good, though tbe cultivation of these hills is everywhere ex¬
ceedingly neglected. Groves of palms, mangoes, jacks, and
lapintains skirt the bottom of the little hills, and shade the
houses of the natives. The pasture is excellent, and the
cattle, though remarkably small, are in good condition.
Above these are woods of forest-trees, which, though not
equal in size to those in Chittagong, are very fine, and free
from rattans and other climbers. In these forests the same
sort of trees grow as in Malabar, namely, the jack wood,
wdiich is in general demand for cabinet work, and is small; ^
the erambo, or iron wood, which is too heavy for general
use, and is seldom felled; the black wood, which is large
and of fine dimensions, but which is rendered unsaleable
by the practice of dividing it into short logs, which are
dragged by elephants to the nearest river, and are fre¬
quently much bruised and splintered in the passage; the
teak, which is inferior in essential oil, the grand preserva¬
tive of iron from corrosion, to that produced in Malabar.
The viti, a black wood, also abounds in these forests; but
most of the trees have been cut, and no care is bestow¬
ed to increase their reproduction, or to check tlm growth
of useless timber. There are extensive forests of teak in
the rajah’s territories; but before the wood reaches the
c o c
Cochin sea it must be floated through the British territories to the
II sea-port town of Paniany, in South Malabar ; and the Com-
Cochin pany’s government hesitated long whether they would ad-
China. ^ tiie rajah’s subjects to the free navigation of this river.
They were only determined to this wise and liberal policy
by the earnest remonstrances of Major Munro, the resi¬
dent at Cochin. . ..
In this province are many Nazarene or Christian vil¬
lages, which, for Indian towns, are well built and cleanly,
and the inhabitants are a very orderly and industrious
people, who live chiefly by trade or agriculture. The Jews
are numerous in the vicinity of Cochin; and Mattacheiy,
about a mile distant from that town, is almost wholly in¬
habited by them. They are divided into two classes,
namely, the Jerusalem or white Jews, and the ancient or
black Jews. .
The Cochin rajah maintained his independence to a
much later period than most of the other Hindu chiefs.
When Hyder invaded his country, he quietly submitted to
pay tribute, which was continued to his son lippoo, and
which is now paid to the Company. In May 1809 a treaty
offensive and defensive was concluded by Colonel Macau¬
lay, between the rajah and the East India Company, by
the conditions of which the friends and enemies of either
of the contracting parties were declared the friends and
enemies of both. The rajah at the same time agreed
to pay an additional tribute.
F. Buchanan’s Journey from Madras through Mysore,
Canara, and Malabar; Rev. C. Buchanan s Christian
Researches in Asia.
Cochin, a sea-port and principal town of the above pro¬
vince. The city is of a semicircular form, and is about a
mile and a half in circumference. It has three gates, and
the streets are wide and commodious. The chief public
buildings are the church, the governor’s house, the bar¬
racks, and a public hotel. A fort was built at this place
by Albuquerque in 1503, and it was the first possessed by
the Portuguese in India. Cochin continued to increase and
to flourish under their rule till the year 1663, when it was
taken by the Dutch. During the period of their rule it
was a place of very extensive commerce, and was inhabited
not only by all sects of Christians, but by Hindus, Mahom-
medans, and Jews, who are all equally tolerated, and who
traded with Arabia, Persia, Bengal, and the whole sea-
coast of India. The trade carried on with Surat, Bom¬
bay, the coasts of Malabar and Canara, and also with
Arabia, Canara, and the islands in the Eastern Seas, is still
extensive. The imports consist chiefly of dates, almonds,
pearls, gum-arabic, piece goods, cotton, opium, shawls,
benzoin, camphor, cinnamon and spices, sugar-candy, tea,
china, and silks. The exports are pepper, cardamums, teak
wood, sandal wood, cocoa-nuts, coir, cordage, cassia, and
fish-maws. The harbour is on the north side of the towm,
which stands on an island at the mouth of the Cali Cay tang
river. At this fort also ship-building is carried on to a
considerable extent, and vessels are constructed both on
European and Asiatic models. The ports in the Arabian
and Persian Gulfs are also supplied from Cochin with the
timber which they require for repairing their different
craft. Cochin was taken possession of by the British in
1795, when war commenced with Holland, and it was
finally ceded to the British by the treaty of 1814. It is
170 miles north-west from Cape Comorin. Long. 76. 8.
E. Eat. 9. 57. N.
COCHIN CHINA. This extensive kingdom is situ¬
ated in the southern extremity of Asia, and forms part of
the peninsula between China and Hindustan. It is not se¬
parated, however, by any distinct boundary from the neigh¬
bouring countries; and its limits have been greatly ex¬
tended by conquest beyond those of Cochin China proper,
C O C 11
which is merely a strip of land betwreen the China Sea Cochin
and the mountains, and is not above sixty or seventy miles China,
broad. The empire of Cochin China, which took its ac-
tual form in the beginning of the present century, com¬
prehends Cochin China proper, Tonquin, the principal part
of Cambodia, and the little state of Chiampa. This state,
as it has been aggrandised by conquest, extends from the
point of Cambodia, in about 8° 30' north latitude, to the
northern confines of Tonquin, which reach within a very
few miles of the tropic, and from the longitude of 105° to
about 109° east. It is bounded on the north by the Chi¬
nese Quangsi or Kiangsi and Yunan, bn the west by the
kingdoms of Lao and Siam; while the Gulfs of Siam,
Tonquin, and the China Sea bound it on the south¬
west, east, and north-east. This great country is divided
by long ranges of mountains, which run nearly north
and south, and in almost parallel chains, forming it into
separate provinces, divided by physical boundaries, and
inhabited by distinct tribes and nations, although subject
to the same sovereign. By these mountainous ridges
Tonquin and Cochin China proper are separated from
Lactho Laos and Cambodia. Another chain separates
the three latter states from Siam and China, and gradual¬
ly diminishes in height as it approaches the south, termi¬
nating at the southern extremity of Cambodia. The soil
in Cochin China, especially in the low lands, is fertile,
and its products are extremely valuable. Of these, sugar
is the staple commodity; it is produced in the central dis¬
tricts of Cochin China proper, and is manufactured by
the labour of the natives, and not, as in Siam, by that of
the Chinese. The whole exportation, which is "princi¬
pally to China, amounts to about 2000 tons, or 30,000
peculs. Raw silk is the next article in importance. Its
culture, as Mr Craufurd and the embassy which accom¬
panied him to Siam and Cochin China had an opportunity
of observing in 1822, is carried on to a great extent in
Cochin China, and to a still greater extent in Tonquin.
The quantity which could be annually exported from the
whole kingdom is estimated at 120,000 lbs. Consider¬
able quantities were carried away by some French ships
which visited Cochin China, and the coarser kind was
found to bear a fair price in the French market. Cochin
China produces the true cinnamon ; and the quantity annu¬
ally exported appears to be about 266,000 lbs. Pepper of
a good quality, but in small quantity and of high price, is
produced in the central provinces of Cochin China ; but
the quantity is inadequate to the demand which the Chi¬
nese trade creates for its exportation. It grows among the
central mountains of Cochin China, whence it is exported
to Cambodia and Tonquin, but principally to China, where
it is much more highly valued than any other quality of this
aromatic. It is not however prepared in a manner to suit
the Indian or European markets; for which purpose it
would be necessary that the natives should be instructed
to free it from the epidermis, and otherwise to pack and to
prepare it, as is practised in Ceylon. Another exclusive
product of the central parts of the kingdom, which is ex¬
tensively cultivated and sent to the neighbouring pro¬
vinces, is tea, which is a very coarse and cheap commo¬
dity, the price seldom exceeding a penny or two pence a
pound. It is doubtful, however, whether this tea would be
fit for the consumption of Europe. There are two species
of rice, namely, the mountain rice, and another which E
produced in the alluvial lands. I he other productions ot
these lands and of the adjacent forests are gamboge, gum,
cardamums, eagle wood, areca-nut, betel-leaf, ivory, stick-
lack ; hides, consisting of deer skins, buffalo, elephants,
and rhinoceros hides ; peltry, consisting of tiger, leopard,
otter, and cat skins; feathers, salt fish, horns and bones,
dyewoods, and woods for ship-building and for domes-
12 7 C O C
Cochin tic purposes. Valuable timber is found only in Cambodia,
China, and a small quantity of teak wood is found in the forests;
also ebony, cedars, mimosas, walnuts, iron-wood, and poon,
and most of the other trees found in the woods of India.
The wood used for ship-building and for domestic pur¬
poses is strong and durable, and is carried to the capital
in large quantities. Mr Craufurd’s embassy had no op¬
portunity of examining its botanical character. There is
a hard black wood extensively used in cabinet-work, and
of large dimensions, which takes a fine polish, and might
form an article of exportation. Cambodia also produces
the Portuguese rosewood, which the Chinese export as
they do from Siam; also sandal wmod and other scented
woods. Among the products of Tonquin is a species of
vegetable root, a cheap material, which forms the dead¬
weight of all the Chinese cargoes exported from Tonquin,
and is used extensively both throughout Cochin China
and the adjacent countries, and also in China, as the ma¬
terial of a red dye. Edible bird-nests, the sea-slug usu¬
ally called biche de mer, molluscas, and sea-blubber, and
other marine productions of a gelatinous quality, form
standing articles of trade with China, and are always in
demand. Among the mountains of lonquin is the only
portion of the Cochin Chinese empire which produces
iron, gold, and silver. The iron received from these mines,
which is as cheap as that from Siam, supplies the whole
kingdom, with the exception of Siagun, which is furnish¬
ed from the latter country. Gold dust is found in many
of the rivers; and there are prodigious rocks of marble
situated on the banks of the river Faifoo, on a kind of
sandy plain, of which large quantities have been export¬
ed.1 This remarkable range of marble rocks rises almost
perpendicularly from the low sand hills, to a height of from
300 to 400 feet, without a hill or mountain near them.2
The foreign trade of the Cochin Chinese is almost ex¬
clusively with China, the trade carried on with Siam be¬
ing inconsiderable, and that with European nations still
smaller. But there is no indisposition to trade, though
among the European nations the notion has been propa¬
gated by travellers that the resort of European traders is
in a great measure interdicted in this kingdom, on the
same principle as in Japan and in all the ports of the Chi¬
nese empire, with the exception of one. On the contrary,
there is no Asiatic country in which Europeans are ad¬
mitted on more easy terms than in Cochin China. In
1818, a new tariff was imposed on foreign vessels, by which
the high duties imposed on all foreign vessels prior to
1818 were repealed, and equal duties substituted in their
stead. By this regulation all vessels pay a rated measure¬
ment duty, moderate in its amount; and are exempted
from all import duties payable previous to 1818. Vessels
that are driven into the ports of Cochin China by stress of
weather, or that visit them for the purpose of commercial
inquiries, are free from all charges; and four of the prin¬
cipal ports of the Cochin Chinese empire are open to Eu¬
ropean commerce. It is also of great importance to the
interests of foreign trade that in Cochin China neither the
sovereign nor any of his officers have any thing to do with
commercial concerns. TLhere are no royal monopolies, nor
any claims of preference in the market; which odious pri¬
vileges are far more pernicious to commerce than the hea¬
viest duties. Of all the European nations, the French
alone have availed themselves of these new regulations in
favour of European trade; four French ships of consider¬
able burden having since visited Cochin China, bringing
out fire-arms, iron, copper, woollens, and some curiosities
c o c
for the court, and having received in return full cargoes
of sugar, with considerable quantities of raw silk.
The productions which the Cochin Chinese receive
from China are manufactured silks, porcelain, medical
drugs, a very large supply of paper, principally for reli¬
gious purposes, and some fine teas; and until the esta¬
blishment of Singapore, about 150 chests of opium were
obtained indirectly from Canton, some portion of it by sea
in junks, and a good deal by land. I his trade with China
is chiefly conducted with Cachao in Tonquin, Saigun in
Cambodia, and Taifo and Hue in Cochin China. 'Ihere is
also some inconsiderable intercourse with other parts of
the empire. From the Malayan countries Cochin China
receives pepper, cloves, nutmegs, with sandal-wood and
tin, and from. India opium and saltpetre. From Europe
the present importations consist of broad cloth, which has
long been consumed in Cochin China, and is required
for the army, consisting of 40,000 men, who are amply
and uniformly clothed in British broad cloth of coarse
scarlet. There is also a demand for some woollens of a
finer fabric among the better classes, for an occasional
winter dress. Some trade has lately commenced with
Singapore; and from that port as well as Canton, junks
have of late brought small quantities of fine heavy cotton
goods, which are in much request among the better class¬
es. Chintzes and other coloured cotton goods are not at all
in request, with the exception of handkerchiefs; neither
are the coarse white cottons, such as are manufactured in
India, fit to enter into competition with the domestic ma¬
nufactures of Cochin China. The Cochin Chinese, not¬
withstanding their skill in the manufacture of cannon
and ammunition, do not manufacture a supply of fire-arms
sufficient for the home demand. A French vessel which
came out in 1819 supplied the king of Cochin China with
10,000 stand of arms, which still however continue in
demand. European iron is also imported, which, from the
little loss that it sustains in forging, compared with the
native metal, has a superiority over it in point of economy.
Cochin China, from its central situation, its navigable
rivers, and its innumerable and excellent harbours, pos¬
sesses extraordinary advantages for commerce. Vv ith-
in the whole kingdom there appear to be no less than
five considerable rivers, which, while they diffuse fertility
over the country, also greatly facilitate its internal com¬
munications. These are Kangkao, Cambodia, Saigun,
Tonquin, and Hue. The first empties itself into the
Gulf of Siam, and on it are situated Athien and Pontia-
mas. It is connected with the great river Cambodia, and
by means of it with Panompin, the capital of the king¬
dom, formerly much frequented by the European traders.
This great river is described as navigable by ships of the
largest size to the distance of forty miles up the country,
where the city of Saigong is situated, having a capacious
and commodious port, and an extensive naval arsenal.3
There is no river of any great magnitude in Cochin China.
The river Hue has but a very short course; although
broad, it is shallow, and does not materially facilitate na¬
vigation, either external or internal. But its estuary forms,
during the south-west monsoon, a fine harbour, which
ships of 200 tons burden may enter and quit with safety,
while it is almost inaccessible during the opposite mon¬
soon. There is a river in Tonquin which in former pe¬
riods was well known to Europeans, and appears to have
been accessible, notwithstanding the bar at its mouth, to
vessels of 400 or 500 tons. It is now greatly obstructed
by sand banks, and not navigable for vessels of above 200
Cochin
China.
1 Asiatic Journal for 182G, Cursory Itemarfs on Cochin China. 2 Mission to Cochin China, from Finlayson’s Journal
3 Barrow’s Voyage to Cochin China, p. 247-
c o c
Cochin
China.
tons burden. This river has if£ source in the centre of
the great Chinese province of Yu-nan. Few countries
' are so amply provided with harbours, there being within
the G1 degrees of latitude which intervene between Cape
St James and the Bay of Turon, no less than nine of the
finest harbours in the world, accessible in every wind,
quite safe to approach, and affording the most complete
protection. The Bay of Turon, situated in latitude 10.
north, is equalled by few in the eastern world, and sur¬
passed by none, for the security and convenience which it
affords. .
The principal town is Hue, the capital, situated se¬
venty or eighty miles north-east of Turon, on a river na¬
vigable for vessels of moderate burden. It is fortified;
and in the arsenal every thing is in a style of neatness,
magnitude, and perfection, which denotes a bold and war¬
like people. The other towns are Cachao in Tonquin;
Saigun in Cambodia, a mercantile town of considerable size,
on a branch of the Saigun river ; and Taifo or Faifo, situ¬
ated about fifteen miles from the entrance of the river,
and now in ruins; Turon also, formerly the chief mart ot
trade between China and Japan, now surrounded with
marks of ruin.
Cochin China, until within a few centuries after the
Christian era, formed a part of the Chinese empire ; and
in the general features of the natives, many of their cus¬
toms, their written language, and their religious opinions
and ceremonies, it is easy to trace their Chinese origin.
The Cochin Chinese, for example, resemble, according to
Barrow, their Chinese progenitors in the ceremonies and
processions observed at marriages and funerals, in the
greater part of their religious superstitions, in the offerings
presented to idols, in the consultation of oracles, and in
the universal desire of inquiring into futurity by the cast¬
ing of lots ; in charming away diseases, in their diet and
cookery, in their public entertainments, in their instru¬
ments of music, in games of chance, in cock-fighting,
quail-fighting, and the devices of their fire-works. Their
language, however, though originally Chinese, has now
deviated so much from its standard as to be wholly unin¬
telligible to a Chinese. But the Cochin Chinese have
effectually preserved the written character of the Chinese
language ; and when the country was visited by Barrow,
he found no difficulty in communicating with them by
means of the Chinese priests who accompanied him.
In external appearance the Cochin Chinese are the
most diminutive of the Mogul race. I hey are short and
squat. They want the broad face of the Malay, the cy¬
lindrical cranium and expanded lower jaw remarked in the
Siamese, and the oblique eyes of the Chinese. Their heads
and countenances are round; and they possess, according
to Mr Finlayson, an expression of sprightliness, intelli¬
gence, and good humour, not to be found either in the
Chinese or Siamese. Morals in Cochin China, as in every
part of Asia, are at a very low ebb ; and the women espe¬
cially are in a very degraded state, and are permitted to
indulge in every species of licentiousness. Neither parents
nor husbands in any rank scruple for a moment to prosti¬
tute for gain either their wives or daughters. The fe¬
males in general have but slender pretensions to beauty;
yet this want is compensated by a lively and cheerful
temper, totally different from the morose character of the
Chinese. They are doomed by the men to labour from
morning to night in the most toilsome occupations. All the
labours and the various employments connected with
agriculture fall to their share ; and in some places they
superintend all the details of commerce. They even assist
0 o c .
in constructing and keeping in repair their mud-built cot¬
tages ; they manufacture coarse earthenware vessels ; na- ^
vigate boats on rivers and in harbours; bear articles to
market; draw the cotton-wool from the pod, spin it and
weave it into cloth, dye it, and make it up into dresses for
their families.1 By the military system of the govern¬
ment, about two thirds of those who are fit for service
are compelled to serve as soldiers at a paltry rate of pay;
by which the people are taken away from agricultural and
mechanical pursuits, and initiated into idle and unprofit¬
able habits. Those of the men who are not so employed
engage occasionally in fishing, in collecting swallows’
nests and sea-slug in the neighbouring islands, and in
various other occupations. But they have always leisure
for their amusements, while the women are condemned
to unremitting toil, being considered by the lower classes
much in the light of beasts of burden fitted for use, and by
the higher classes as the slaves of their pleasures. Ihese
latter are arrogant in the extreme, and offensively coarse
in their manners; while their inferiors are described as
mild and inoffensive, lively and good humoured, affable
and polite to strangers, but, under this exterior, as cun¬
ning, deceitful, impudent, conceited, and tyrannical where
they can be so with impunity. These vices are traced to
the nature of the government, which is completely despo¬
tic, the sovereign being the supreme disposer, both of the
lives and properties of his subjects. “ The bamboo, says
a traveller, “ which is perpetually at work, is the universal
reformer of manners throughout Cochin China;” and the
moral character of the people corresponds entirely to this
illiberal and despotic system under which it has been
formed. It is owung to"the same cause, namely, the in¬
security of property which prevails all over Asia, that the
arts and manufactures make no progressive improvement,
and that agriculture also is in such a backward state. The
country exhibits nowhere the marks of industrious cul¬
tivation ; and the inhabitants are generally poor, and liv¬
ing in miserable cottages, with little furniture. The only
branch of the arts in which they particularly excel is naval
architecture, for which, however, they are not a little in¬
debted to the size and quality of the timber employed for
that purpose. Their row-galleys for pleasure are remark¬
ably fine vessels, being from fifty to eighty feet in length,
13
Cochin
China.
and composed of fine single planks, each extending from
one extremity to the other. They employ various descrip¬
tions of vessels in the coasting trade, in fishing, and in
collecting the biche de mer or sea-slug, and the swallows’
nests among the cluster of islands called the Paracels.
Many of them are covered with sheds of matting, under
which a whole family constantly reside; and others re¬
semble the common prows of the Malays, both in their
hulls and rigging. Their foreign traders are built on the
plan of the Chinese junks.
The religion of the Cochin Chinese is a modification
of the widely extended system of Buddha, to whom they
offer the firstlings of their flocks and the first fruits of
their fields. They have temples filled with the idolatrous
images of this deity, and the natives are extremely su¬
perstitious. Besides voluntary offerings, which are made
by individuals, a yearly contribution is levied by the go¬
vernment, in order to support a certain number of monas¬
teries, in which the priests invoke the deity for the public
welfare.
The ancient history of Cochin China, like that of most
of the other eastern countries, is very little known ; and
it is only from the year 1774 that there are any authentic
accounts. The reigning family was at that time expellee.
Barrow’s Voyage to Cochin China.
14 • C O C
Cochineal from Quinong, the capital, by three brothers, who divided
li the country among them. At the time the revolt took
Cock-Pit. p]acej t]le young prince Caung Shung, with the queen and
big family, escaped by the assistance of a French mission¬
ary named Adran, into a forest; whence the king was
compelled to fly, first to Putowai, a desert island in the
Gulf of Siam, and afterwards to Siam, which he was ob¬
liged to quit. The son was carried by Adran to France,
where he endeavoured to procure assistance; but the re¬
volution breaking out, all these schemes were frustrated.
Caung Shung, after remaining in the woods, sustaining
many hardships, landed in his own country in 1790, and
succeeded in expelling the successors of the usurpers ;
and in 1802 he effected the conquest of Tonquin, and es¬
tablished an extensive empire on a solid basis, which has
flourished ever since that time. He was greatly aided by the
missionary Adran, who had acquired the most perfect mas¬
tery over the language, and compiled a code of laws and
a book of instructions for the government of the country.
The king, after his death, evinced his gratitude for his
services by erecting a monument to his memory, with an
inscription in gold characters, an honour confined to the
royal family.
Several attempts have been made to open an amicable
intercourse with the Cochin Chinese; one in 1778 by Mr
Hastings, and one in 1804< by an envoy from Canton; but
both proved unsuccessful, through the intrigues of French¬
men, by whom the sovereign Caung Shung was complete¬
ly surrounded. In 1822 Mr Craufurd was sent by the
East India Company as an envoy to Siam and Cochin
China. He was not well received at the Cochin Chinese
court, and does not appear to have obtained any peculiar
advantages for commerce. Both he and Mr Finlayson,
surgeon to the embassy, have published the result of their
observations ; and it is from the information procured by
them that the previous account is chiefly compiled; also
from Barrow’s Account of Cochin China,) the Asiatic Jour¬
nal, and other authorities.
COCHINEAL, or Cochineel, a drug used by dyers
and others, for producing red colours, especially crimsons
and scarlets, and for making carmine; and likewise in
medicine as a cardiac, cordial, sudorific, alexipharmic,
and febrifuge.
The cochineal, in the state in which it is brought to us,
is in small bodies of an irregular figure, usually convex,
ridged and furrowed on one side, and concave on the
other. The colour of the best is a purplish gray, powdered
over with a sort of white dust. All that the world knew
of it for a long time was, that it was gathered from cer¬
tain plants in Mexico ; and therefore it was naturally sup¬
posed to be a seed, till in the year 1692 Father Plunder
gave Pomet an account of its being an animal; and this,
though then disregarded, has been confirmed by subse¬
quent observations.
COCK, in Zoology, the English name of the males of
gallinaceous birds, but more especially used for the com¬
mon dunghill cock. See Ornithology.
Cock-Pit, a sort of theatre upon which game-cocks
fight. ...
It must appear astonishing to every reflecting mind
that a mode of diversion so cruel and inhuman as that of
cock-fighting should so generally prevail; that not only
the ancient Greeks and Romans should have adopted it,
but that a practice so savage and heathenish should be
continued by Christians of all sorts, and even pursued in
these better and more enlightened times.
The ancient Greeks and Romans, as is well known,
were wont to call all the nations in the world barbarians;
yet certainly, if we consider tbe many instances of cruelty
practised among them, there was very little reason for the
c o c
distinction. Human sacrifices were common both to them Cock-Pit.
and the barbarians ; and the exposing of infants, the com-
bats of men with wild beasts, and of men with men in the
gladiatorial scenes, were spectacles of delight and festi¬
vity to these self-styled polished nations.
The islanders of Delos, it seems, were great lovers of
cock-fighting; and Tanagra, a city in Bceotia, the isle of
Rhodes, Chalcis in Euboea, and the country of Media,
were famous for their generous and magnanimous race of
chickens. There was probably included in the last the
kingdom of Persia, whence this kind of poultry was first
brought into Greece; and if one may judge of the rest
from the fowls of Rhodes and Media, the excellency of
the broods at that time consisted in their weight and
largeness, the fowls of those countries being heavy and
bulky, and of the nature of what our sportsmen call shake-
bags or turnpokes. The Greeks, moreover, had some me¬
thod of preparing the birds for battle by feeding, as may
be collected from Columella.
It should seem that cock-fighting was at first partly a
religious and partly a political institution at Athens, and
was continued there for the purpose of improving the
seeds of valour in the minds of their youth ; but it was
afterwards abused and perverted both in Athens and in
the other parts of Greece to a common pastime, without
any moral, political, or religious intention, just as it is
now followed and practised among us.
As the Romans were prone to imitate the Greeks, we
may expect to find them following the example of the lat¬
ter in this mode of diversion, and in the worst way, name-
lv, without any good or laudable motives ; since, when
the Romans brought it to Rome, the Greeks had for¬
gotten every thing that was commendable in it, and had
already perverted it to a low and unmeaning sport. Signior
Hyam thinks the Romans borrowed the pastime from
Dardanus, in Asia; but there is little reason in making
them go so far for it, when it was so generally followed
in Greece, whose customs the Romans were accustomed
to borrow and imitate. However, it is probable they did
not adopt this practice very early ; and it may be gathered
from Columella that the Romans did not use the sport in
his time. This author styles cock-fighting a Grecian di¬
version; and speaks of it in terms of ignominy, as an ex¬
pensive amusement, unbecoming the frugal householder,
and often attended with the ruin of the parties that fol¬
lowed it. His words are remarkable : “ Nos enim cen-
semus instituere vectigal industrii patris familias, non rixo-
sarum avium lanistae, cujus plerumque totum patrimonium
pignus alese, victor gallinaceus pyctes abstulit;” in which
passage he describes the manner, not of the Romans,
but of the Greeks, who in his time had converted the di¬
version of cock-fighting into a species of gaming, even to
the total ruin of their families, as happens sometimes
in England at this day. The Romans, however, at last
gave in to the custom, though not till the decline of the
empire. The first cause of contention between the two
brothers Bassianus and Geta, sons of the emperor Septi-
mius Severus, happened, according to Herodian, in their
youth, about the fighting of their cocks ; and if this was the
first instance of it, it is probable that these princes had
seen and learned it in Greece, whither they had often
accompanied the emperor their father.
It is observable that cocks and quails pitted for the
purpose of engaging one another d outrance, or to the
last gasp, for diversion, are frequently compared, and vyith
much propriety, to gladiators. Hence Pliny’s expression,
gallorum, ceu gladiatorum; and that of Columella, rixo-
sarum avium lanistce; lanista being the proper term for
the master of the gladiators. Consequently one would
expect, that when the bloody scenes of the amphitheatre
c o c
Cock-Pit. were discarded, as happened soon after the Christian re-
w-y-^ lio-ion became the establishment of the empire, the wan¬
ton shedding of men’s blood in sport being of too cruel
and savage a nature to be patronised and encouraged
under such a humane dispensation, one might have ex¬
pected that the oervyofuivia and the aXr/.r^vofLa.via would
also have ceased. The fathers of the church are conti¬
nually inveighing against the spectacles of the arena, and
upbraiding their adversaries with these, which, indeed,
were more unnatural and shocking than a main of cocks;
but the latter had a tendency towards infusing the like
ferocity and implacability into the dispositions ot men.
Besides, this mode of diversion has been in fact the bane
and destruction of thousands here, as well as of those la-
nistce avium, “ cock-feeders,” mentioned by Columella,
whose patrimonial fortunes were totally dissipated and de¬
stroyed by it.
The cock is not only a useful animal, but stately in his
figure, and magnificent in his plumage. “ Imperitant suo
generi,” says Pliny, “ et regnum in quacunque sunt domo,
exercent.” Aristophanes compares the cock to the king
of Persia; most authors also take notice of the “ specta-
tissimum insigne, serratum, quod eorum verticem regiae
coronae modo exornat.” His tenderness towards his brood
is such, that, contrary to the custom of many other males,
he will scratch and provide for them with an assiduity
almost equal to that of the hen; and his generosity is so
great, that on finding a hoard of meat, he will chuckle the
hens together, and, without touching one bit himself, will
relinquish the whole of it to them. He was called the bird,
*ar by many of the ancients; he was highly es¬
teemed in some countries, and .in othei’s was even held
sacred, insomuch that one cannot but regret that a crea¬
ture so useful and noble should, by a strange fatality, be
so enormously abused by us. It is true, our aXsxTgvo/Acivia,
or the massacre of Shrove Tuesday, is now fast declining,
and in a few years, it is to be hoped, will be totally
disused; but the cock-pit still continues a reproach to the
humanity of Englishmen, and to their religion, the pu¬
rest, the tenderest, and most compassionate of all, not ex¬
cepting even the Brahminical.
It is unknown when the pitched battle first entered
England, but it was probably brought hither by the Ro¬
mans. This bird existed here before Csesar’s arrival, but
no notice of his fighting occurs earlier than the time of
William Fitz-Stephen, who wrote the life of Archbishop
Becket, in the reign of Henry II., and describes cocking as
a sport of school-boys on Shrove Tuesday. From this time
at least the diversion, however absurd, and even impious,
was continued amongst us. It was followed, though disap¬
proved and prohibited by the 39 Edward III.; also in the
reign of Henry VIII., and afterwards in the year 1569.
It has by some been called a royal diversion ; and, as
every one knows, the cock-pit at Whitehall was erected by
a crowned head,’for the more magnificent celebration of
it. There was another pit in Drury Lane, and a third in
Javin Street. It was prohibited, however, by one of Oli¬
ver’s acts, 31st March 1664. What aggravates the re¬
proach and disgrace are those species of fighting which
are called the battle-royal and. the Welsh-main, known no¬
where in the world but there ; neither in China, nor in Per¬
sia, nor in Malacca, nor among the savage tribes in Ame¬
rica. These are scenes so bloody as almost to be too
shocking to relate ; and yet, as many may not be ac¬
quainted with the nature of them, it may be proper, for
exciting aversion and detestation, to describe them in a
few words. In the former an unlimited number of fowls
are pitted, and when they have slaughtered one another
for the diversion of the lookers-on, the single surviving
bird is esteemed the victor, and carries away the prize.
c o c is
The Welsh-main consists, we shall suppose, of sixteen Cockburne.
pairs of cocks ; of these, the sixteen conquerors are pitted
a second time, the eight conquerors of these are pitted a
third time ; the four conquerors the fourth time, and, last¬
ly, the two conquerors of these are pitted the fifth time;
so that thirty-one cocks are sure to be murdered for sport
and pleasure.
Cock-Pit of a ship of war, the apartment of the sur¬
geon and his mates, being the place where the wounded
men are dressed in time of battle, or otherwise. It is si¬
tuated under the lower deck.
COCKBU11NE, Mrs Catharine, a most accomplish¬
ed lady and celebrated writer, was the daughter of Captain
David Trotter, a native of Scotland, and a naval com¬
mander in the reign of King Charles II. She was born
in London on the 16th of August 1679, and baptized in
the Protestant church, according to which she was bred
up. She gave early marks of her genius ; and learned to
write, and also made herself mistress of the French lan¬
guage, by her own application and diligence, without any
instructor; but she had some assistance in the study ot
the Latin grammar and logic, of which latter she drew up
an abstract for her own use. The most serious and import¬
ant subjects, and especially religion, soon engaged her at¬
tention. But notwithstanding her education, her intimacy
with several families of distinction of the Roman Catholic
persuasion exposed her, while very young, to impressions
in favour of that church, which, not being removed by her
conferences with some eminent and learned members of the
church of England, she embraced the Roman Catholic com¬
munion, in which she continued till the year 1707. In 1695
she produced a tragedy called Agnes de Castro, which was
acted at the theatre-royal when she was only in her se¬
venteenth year. The reputation of this performance, and
the verses which she addressed to Mr Congreve upon his
Mourning Bride in 1697, were probably the foundation of
her acquaintance with that celebrated writer. Her second
tragedy, Fatal Friendship, was acted in 1698, at the new
theatre in Lincoln’s-Inn Fields. This tragedy met with
great applause, and is still thought the most perfect ot
her dramatic performances. Her dramatic talents not
being confined to tragedy, she brought upon the stage, in
1707, a comedy called Love at a Loss, or Most Votes carry
it. In the same year she gave the public her third tra¬
gedy, entitled the Unhappy Penitent, acted at the theatre-
royal in Drury Lane. But poetry and dramatic writing
did not so far engross the thoughts of our author as to pre¬
vent her from sometimes turning them to subjects of a
very different nature, and she distinguished herself in an
extraordinary manner in defence of Mr Locke’s writings,
a female metaphysician being a remarkable phenomenon
in the republic of letters.
She returned to the exercise of her dramatic genius in
1703, and fixed upon the revolution of Sweden, under Gus-
tavus Ericson, for the subject of a tragedy. This tragedy
was acted in 1706, at the queen’s theatre in the Haymar-
ket. In 1707 her doubts concerning the Roman Catholic
religion, which she had so many years professed, having
led her to a thorough examination of the grounds of it, by
consulting the best books on both sides of the question,
and advising with men of the best judgment, the result
wras a conviction of the falseness of the pretensions of that
church, and a return to that of England, to which she ad¬
hered during the remainder of her life. In 1708 she was
married to the Reverend Mr Cockburne, then curate of St
Dunstan’s, in Fleet Street, but who afterwards obtained
the living of Long Horsely, near Morpeth, in Northumber¬
land. He was a man of considerable abilities ; and, among
several things, wrote an account of the Mosaic Deluge,
which met with some approbation from the learned.
ii
16
Cocker-
mouth
II.
Cockney.
c o c
Mrs Cockburne’s remarks upon some writers in the con¬
troversy concerning the foundation of moral duty and mo¬
ral obligation were introduced to the world in August
1712, in the Literary Journal, entitled The History of the
Works of the Learned. The strength, clearness, and viva¬
city shown in her remarks upon the most abstract and
perplexed questions immediately raised the curiosity of
all good judges about the concealed writer; and their ad¬
miration was greatly increased when her sex and advanced
age were known. Dr Rutherford’s Essay on the Nature
and Obligations of Virtue, published in May 1744, soon
engaged her thoughts ; and notwithstanding the asthma¬
tic disorder which had seized her many years before, and
now left her small intervals of ease, she applied herself to
the confutation of that elaborate discourse, and finished it
with a spirit, elegance, and perspicuity, equal, if not su¬
perior, to the best of her former writings.
The loss of her husband in 1748, in the seventy-first
year of his age, was a severe shock to her; and she did
not long survive him, having died on the 11th of May
1749, in the seventy-first year of her age, after long sup¬
porting a painful disorder with that resignation^ to the Di¬
vine will which had been the governing principle of her
life. Her works are collected into two large volumes 8vo,
by Dr Birch, who has prefixed to them an account of her
life and writings.
COCKERMOUTH, a borough-town in the ward of Al-
lerdale, in Cumberland, twenty-five miles frem Carlisle, and
302 from London. It stands near the confluence of the
rivers Derwent and Cocker, and contains the remains of
an ancient castle, which must have been of great strength.
There are manufactures of leather, hats, shalloons, coarse^
woollens, and linens. The town is governed by a bailitt
and a jury of sixteen burgesses. The principal market is
held on Monday, and there is a smaller one on Saturday.
The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 2865, in 1811 to
2964, and in 1821 to 3790.
COCKET is a seal belonging to the king’s custom¬
house, or rather a scroll of parchment sealed and deliver¬
ed by the officers of the customs to merchants, as a war¬
rant that their merchandise has been customed.
It is also used for the office where goods transported
were first entered and paid their custom, and had a cocket
or certificate of discharge.
COCKNEY, a very ancient nickname for a citizen of
London. Ray interprets it to mean a young person coax¬
ed or cockered, made a wanton or nestle-cock, and deli¬
cately bred and brought up, so as when arrived at man’s
estate to be unable to bear the least hardship. According
to another writer, it signifies a person ignorant of country
economy. The term itself originated as follows : h. young^
citizen having been ridiculed for calling the neighing of
a horse laughing, and told that it was called neighing,
next morning, on hearing a cock crow, being anxious to
show that instruction had not been thrown away upon
him, exclaimed to his former instructor, How that cock
neighs! from which circumstance the citizens of London
have ever since been called cockneighs or cockneys. But
whatever may be the origin of the term, we learn from the
following verses, attributed to Hugh Bagot, earl of Nor¬
folk, that it was in use in the time of King Henry II.
Was I in my castle at Bungay,
Fast by the river Wavenay,
I would not care for the king of Cockney.
The king of the cockney occurs among the regulations
for the sports and shows formerly held in the Middle
Temple on Childermas day, when he had his officers, a
marshal, constable, butler, and others. See Dugdale’s
Origines Juridicales, p. 247.
COD
COCKSWAIN, or Cockson, an officer on board a man Cockswain
of war, who has the care of a boat or sloop, and all things II
belonging to it. His duty is to be always ready with his
boat’s gang or crew, and to man the boat upon all occa¬
sions. He sits in the stern of the boat, which he steers,
and has a whistle to call and encourage his men.
COCLES, Publius Horatius, a celebrated Roman,
who alone opposed the whole army of Porsenna at the
head of a bridge, while his companions behind him were
cutting off the communication with the opposite shore.
When the bridge was destroyed, Codes, though wounded
by the darts of the enemy, leapt into the Tiber, and swam
across the river with his arms. A brazen statue was raised
to him in the temple of Vulcan, by the consul Publicola, as
a reward for his eminent services.
COCOS, the name of several islands in the Eastern Seas
and in the Pacific Ocean. 1. There are two islands of this
name which form part of the group of the Andamans, thirty
miles south-east of the Great Andaman: 2. Iwo smaU
islands near the west coast of Sumatra: 3. A cluster of
small uninhabited islands in the Bay of Bengal, about the
fourteenth degree of north latitude, which produce large
quantities of fine cocoa-nuts: 4. An island in the South
Pacific Ocean, visited by Vancouver in his return from
the western shores of America, about four miles long and
two broad. Long. 273. 6. E. Lat. 5. 35. N.
COCYTUS, one of the rivers of hell, according to the
theology of the poets. It derives its name otto rov xwxue/f,
from groaning and lamenting. Hence Milton,
Cocytus named, of lamentation loud,
Heard on the rueful stream.
Cocytus was a branch of the river Styx, and, according
to Horace, flowed with a dull and languid stream.
CODAPAHAR, a town of Hindustan, in the district
of Bundelcund, twenty-five miles north-north-east from
Chatterpoor. Long. 80. 2. E. Lat. 25. 17. N.
CODE (codex), a collection of the laws and constitu¬
tions of the Roman emperors, made by order of Justinian.
The word comes from the Latin codex, a paper book ;
so called a codicibus vel caudicibus arborum, the trunks
of trees ; the bark of which being stripped off, served the
ancients as material for writing upon.
The Code is accounted the second volume of the body
of civil law, and contains twelve books; the matter of
which is nearly the same with that of the Digest, espe¬
cially the first eight books; but the style is neither so
pure, nor the method so accurate, as that of the Digest;
and it determines matters of daily use, whereas the Di¬
gest discusses the more abstruse and subtile questions of
the law, at the same time giving the opinions of the an¬
cient jurisconsults. Although Justinian’s collection is
distinguished by the appellation of Code, by way of emi¬
nence, yet there were codes before his time: as, first, the
Gregorian code and Hermogenian code, being a collection
of the Roman laws, made by two famous lawyers, Grego¬
rius and Hermogenes, and including the constitutions of
the emperors from Hadrian to Diocletian and Maximinus;
and, secondly, the Theodosian code, in sixteen books,
formed out of the constitutions of the emperors from Con¬
stantine the Great to Theodosius the Younger, and ob¬
served almost all over the West, till it was abrogated by
the Justinian code. There are several modern systematic
collections of laws called codes, the most celebrated of
which is the Code Napoleon, framed under the auspices of
Bonaparte, not long after he became emperor of the French.
See France and Napoleon.
CODEX, in Antiquity, denotes a book or tablet on
which the ancients wrote.
Codex also denoted a kind of punishment by means of
C (E L
Codicil a log or block of wood, which slaves who had offended
II were made fast to, and obliged to drag along with them;
Coelus. byj sometimes they sat on it closely bound.
CODICIL is a writing, by way of supplement to a will,
when any thing is omitted that the testator wishes to have
added, or desires to be explained, altered, or recalled.
CODIFICATION. This term has in recent times been
used to denote the formation of systematic codes, pro¬
viding simultaneously for the whole objects of legislation.
See Legislation.
CODLIN, an apple useful in the kitchen, being the
most proper for baking.
CODLING, an appellation given to the young cod-fish.
CODON (KwSwv), in Antiquity, a cymbal, or rather
little brass bell, resembling the head of a poppy. Codons
were fastened to the trappings and bridles of horses.
CODRINGTON, Christopher, abrave English officer,
and not less distinguished for learning than benevolence,
was born at Barbadoes in the year 1668, and educated at
Oxford ; after which he betook bimself to the army, and
by his merit and courage soon recommended himself to
the favour of King William, who made him a captain in the
first regiment of foot-guards. He was at the siege of Na¬
mur in 1695 ; and, upon the conclusion of the peace of
Ryswick, was made captain-general and governor-in-chief
of the Leeward and Caribbee Islands. He died at Barba¬
does on the 7th April 1710, and was buried there the day
after; but his body was subsequently brought over to
England, and interred, on the 19th of June 1716, in the
chapel of All-Souls College, Oxford. By his last will, he
bequeathed his plantations in Barbadoes, and part of the
island of Barbuda, to the Society for Propagating the Gos¬
pel in Foreign Parts ; and left a noble legacy to All-Souls
College, of which he had been a fellow. This legacy con¬
sisted of his library, which was valued at L.6000; and of
L.10,000 in funds, which was to be laid out, L.6000 in
building a library, and L.4000 in furnishing it with books.
He wrote some of the poems in the Musce Anglicance,
printed at London in 1741.
CODRUS, the seventeenth and last king of Athens, son
of Melanthus. When the Heraclidae made war against
Athens, the oracle said that the victory would be granted
to the nation whose king was killed in battle. Upon this
the Heraclidae gave strict orders to spare the life of Cod-
rus ; but the patriotic king disguised himself, and attacked
one of the enemy, by whom he was killed. The Athe¬
nians then obtained the victory, and Codrus was deserv¬
edly called the father of his country. He reigned twenty-
one years; but the era of this traditional monarch is un¬
certain. In order to honour his memory the more, the
Athenians passed a resolution that no man after Codrus
should reign in Athens under the title of king.
CO-EFFICIENTS, in Algebra, are the numbers or
known quantities which are put before letters or quanti¬
ties, whether known or unknown, and into which they are
supposed to be multiplied. Thus, in 3x, ax, or bx, 3, a,
and b are the co-efficients of x ; and in 6a, 96, 6 and 9
are the co-efficients of a and b. See Algebra.
CGXOSYRIA, in the larger sense of the word, was
the name of the whole country to the southward of Seleu-
cia, and extending as far as Egypt and Arabia; but this
word is principally applied to the valley situated between
Libanus and Anti-Libanus. This word occurs only in the
apocryphal writings of the Old Testament.
CCELUS (Heaven), in Pagan Mythology, the son of
iEther and Dies, or Air and Day. According to Hesiod,
he married Terra or the Earth, on whom he begat Aurea
or the Mountains, the Ocean, &c. But having at length
imprisoned the Cyclops, who were also his children, his
wife, offended at this proceeding, incited her son Saturn
VOL. VII.
e o F 17
to revenge the injury done to his brothers; and by her Coemptio-
assistance the latter bound and castrated Ccelus, when nales
the blood which flowed from the wound produced the ^0g-ea
three furies, the giants, and the wood-nymphs ; while the
genital parts being thrown into the sea, impregnated the
waters, and formed the goddess Venus. This deity was
called by the Greeks Uranus.
CCEMETERY. See Cemetery.
COEMPTIONALES, among the Romans, an appella¬
tion given to old slaves, who were sold in a lot with
others, because they could not be sold alone.
CCENOBITE, a religious person who lives in a convent,
or in community, under a certain rule ; in opposition to
anchoret or hermit, who lives in solitude. The word comes
from the Greek xo/w>s, communis, and /3/o;, vita, life. Cas-
sian makes this difference between a convent and a monas¬
tery, that the latter may be applied to the residence of a
single religious person or recluse, whereas the convent im¬
plies coenobites, or numbers of religious living in common.
Fleury speaks of three kinds of monks in Egypt; ancho¬
rets, who lived in solitude ; coenobites, who continued to live
in community; and sarrabaites, who were a kind of monks-
errant, strolling from place to place. He refers the insti¬
tution of coenobites to the times of the apostles, and makes
it a kind of imitation of the ordinary lives of the faithful
at Jerusalem. But St Pachomius is ordinarily owned the
institutor of the coenobite life, as being the first who gave
a rule to any community.
CCENOBIUM (xo/vopiov), the state of living in a so¬
ciety or community where all things are common. Py¬
thagoras is believed to be the author or institutor of this
kind of life ; his disciples, though some hundreds in num¬
ber, being obliged to give up all their private estates, to be
added to the common stock. The Essenians among the
Jews, and the Platonists among the Greeks, are said to
have lived in the same manner. Many of the Christians
also have thought this the most perfect kind of society, as
being that in which Christ and his apostles chose to live.
COFFEA, the Coffee-Tree. The flowers, which are
produced in clusters at the root of the leaves, are of a pure
white, and have a very grateful odour. The fruit, which
is the only useful part, resembles a cherry. When it comes
to be of a deep red, it is gathered for the mill, in order to
be manufactured into those coffee-beans now so generally
known. The mill is composed of two wooden rollers, fur¬
nished with iron plates eighteen inches long and ten or
twelve in diameter. These movable rollers are made to
approach a third, which is fixed, and which is called the
chops. Above the rollers is a hopper, in which is put the
cofiee, whence it falls between the rollers and the chops,
where it is stripped of its first skin, and divided into
two parts, as may be seen by its form after it has under¬
gone this operation, being flat on the one side and round
on the other. From this machine it falls into a brass sieve,
where the skin drops between the wires, while the fruit
slides over them into baskets placed ready to receive it.
It is then thrown into a vessel full of water, where it soaks
for one night, and is afterwards thoroughly washed. When
the whole is finished and well dried, it is put into another
machine called the peeling-mill. This is a wooden grinder,
turned vertically upon its trundle by a mule or horse. In
passing over the coffee it takes off the parchment, or thin
skin, which detaches itself from the berry in proportion as
it grows dry. The parchment being removed, it is taken
out of this mill to be put into another, which is called the
winnowing-mill. This machine is provided with four pieces
of tin fixed upon an axle, which is turned by a slave with
considerable force ; and the wind produced by the motion
of these plates clears the coffee of all the pellicles that are
mixed with it. It is afterwards put upon a table, where
c
18
Coffee.
C O F
the broken berries, and any filth that may remain among
them, are separated by negroes; after which the coffee is
fit for sale. _ . . „
The coffee-tree is cultivated in Arabia, Persia, the Past
Indies, the Isle of Bourbon, and several parts of America
and the West Indies. It is also raised in botanic gardens
in several parts of Europe. It delights particularly in hills
C O F
tolerated, if not legalised. Thevenot the traveller was the
first who brought it into France; and a Greek servant,
named Pasqua, brought into England by Mr Daniel Ed¬
wards, a Turkey merchant, in 1652, first commenced the
profession of coffee-man, and introduced the beverage into
this island. . .
Coffee Trade. From the great increase in the con-
Coff’ee
Trade
II
Coffer.
in several parts of Purope. it ciengnis pa.... ;n this as well as in other countries, the
and mountains, where its root is almost always dry, and its sumptio am0unt of capital and labour
head frequently watered with gentle showers. It prefers value of the article, QUa titv 0f shipping
a western aspect, and ploughed ground without any ap- emnloved in its production, and the quantity PP. S
pearance of grass. The plants should be placed at eigll t
feet distance from each other, and in holes twelve or fi -
teen feet deep. If left to themselves, they would, as al¬
ready observed, rise to the height of sixteen or eighteen
feet; but they are generally stinted to five, for the conve¬
nience of gathering their fruit with the greater ease. I bus
dwarfed, they extend their branches so that they cover
the whole spot round about them; and they begin to
yield fruit the third year, but are not m full bearing till
the fifth. With the same infirmities that most other trees
are subject to, they are likewise in danger of being de¬
stroyed by a worm, or by the scorching rays of the sun.
The hills where the coffee-trees are found have generally
a gravelly or chalky bottom. In the latter soil it lan¬
guishes for sometime and then dies; in the former, its
roots, which seldom fail to strike between stones, obtain
nourishment, and keep the tree alive and fruitful for thirty
years. This is nearly the period for plants of the coffee-
tree. The proprietor, at the end of this period, not only
finds himself without trees, but has his land so reduced
that it is not fit for any kind of culture ; and unless he be
so situated that he can break up a spot of virgin land, to
make himself amends for that which is totally exhausted
by the coffee-trees, his loss is irreparable.
Coffee also denotes the drink prepared from these
berries, which has been familiar in Europe for a hundred
years, and among the Turks for a hundred and seventy.
Its origin is not well known. Some ascribe it to the
prior of a monastery, who being informed by a goatherd
that his cattle, when they happened to browse on the tree,
remained awake and capered all night, became curious to
prove its virtue ; and accordingly he first tried it on his
monks, to prevent their sleeping at matins. Others, fol¬
lowing Schehabeddin, refer the invention of coffee to the
Persians, from whom it was learned in the fifteenth cen¬
tury by Gemaleddin, mufti of Aden, a city near the mouth
of the Red Sea, and who having tried its virtues himself,
and found that it dissipated the fumes which oppressed
the head, inspired joy, opened the bowels, and prevented
sleep, without producing any countervailing inconvenience,
first recommended it to his dervises, with whom he used
to spend the night in prayer; and their example brought
coffee into vogue at Aden ; the professors of the law, arti-
travellers, in short, every body at Aden, drinking
It next passed to Mecca, where the devotees first
employed in its production, a— * .
required for its transport, it has become a commodity
of great commercial importance. The duties which have
been levied upon it have varied considerably at different
periods. In 1819 the duty was raised from sevenpence
to one shilling per lb.; and the quantity entered for home
consumption in 1824 was 7,993,041 lbs., yielding a re¬
venue of L. 407,544. 4s. 3d. In 1824, however, the duty
was lowered to sixpence per lb., and the quantity en¬
tered for home consumption, in 1825, was 10,766,11.4
lbs In 1828 it increased to 16,522,422 lbs., and at pre¬
sent may be estimated at 22,000,000 lbs., producing a re¬
venue of about L. 580,000. In the year ending January
1831, the quantity imported into the united kingdom from
all parts was 40,952,163 lbs., and the quantity exported to
all parts 20,087,994 lbs. The following is an estimate of
the annual exports of coffee from the principal places
where it is produced, and of its annual consumption in
those countries into which it is imported from abroad at
the present time :
Exports.
Tons.
Mocha, Hodeida, and other Arabian ports 12,000
Sumatra, and other parts of India  6,000
Brazil and the Spanish Main 
 n>o
British West India colonies ^’nno
Dutch West India colonies *,’uuu
French West India colonies, and the Isle of
Bourbon   *   8’0U0
Total.... 123,500
Consumption.
Tons.
Great Britain     Inonn
Netherlands and Holland .••••••••••••; ^000
Germany, and countries round the Baltic.....-32,000
France, Spain, Italy, Turkey in Europe, the ^ ^
Levant,    
America.
.18,500
sans,
C°11 ^pproximation”to the truth as can be obtained.
. a z. « omiavo ^pnrpssure or sink-
Total 129,200
coffee. It next passed to Mecca, wnere me The discrepancy here between the supply and the de-
then the rest of the people, took coffee, from Arabia i I -J t0 be acc0unted for from the
S it Si
S,; citation of coffee. The above, however, is as
to Syria and Constantinople. Ihe dervises declaimed
against it from the Alcoran, which declares that coal is
not of the number of things created by God for food ; and
the mufti accordingly ordered the coffee-houses to be
shut; but his successor declaring coffee not to be coal,
they were again opened. During the war in Candia, the
assemblies of newsmongers making too free with state
affairs, the grand visier Cuproh suppressed the coffee¬
houses at Constantinople; but this did not prevent tie
public from using this beverage; and it has ever since been
close an —  . ,
COFFER, in Architecture, a square depressure or sink
ing in each interval between the modillions of the Conn
thian cornice, and ordinarily filled up with a rose, some
times with a pomegranate or other enrichment.
Coffer, in Fortification, denotes a hollow lodgement
athwart a dry moat, from six to seven feet deep and from
sixteen to eighteen broad; the upper part made of pieces
of timber raised two feet above the level of the moat, wine
little elevation has hurdles laden with earth for its cover-
C O F
Coffin, ing, and serves as a parapet with embrasures. The coffer
js nearly the same with the caponiere ; excepting that the
last is sometimes made beyond the counterscarp on the
glacis, and the coffer always in the moat, taking up its
whole breadth, which the caponiere does not. It differs
from the traverse and gallery in this, that the latter are
made by the besiegers, and the coffer by the besieged.
The besieged generally make use of coffers to repulse the
besiegers when they endeavour to pass the ditch. To save
themselves from the fire of these coffers, the besiegers
throw up earth on the side towards the coffer.
COFFIN, the chest in which dead bodies are interred.
The sepulchral honours paid to the manes of departed
friends in ancient times demand attention, and are ex¬
tremely curious. Their being put into a coffin was con¬
sidered as a mark of the highest distinction. With us,
however, the poorest people are provided with coffins;
for, if the relations cannot afford them, the parish is at
the expense. On the contrary, in the East, coffins are not
made use of; Turks and Christians, as Thevenot assures
us, agreeing in this. The ancient Jews seem to have buried
their dead in the same manner; neither was the body of
our Lord, it should seem, put into a coffin ; nor that of
Elisha (2d Kings, xiii. 21), whose bones were touched by
the corpse that was let down a little after into his sepul¬
chre. However, all agree that coffins were anciently made
use of in Egypt; and antique coffins of stone and syca¬
more wood are still to be seen in that country, not to
mention those said to have been made of a kind of paste¬
board, formed by folding or gluing together many folds of
cloth curiously plastered, and then painted with hierogly¬
phics. The sacred historian expressly observes of Joseph,
that he was not only embalmed, but put into a coffin too,
both of which were in use among the Egyptians.
Bishop Patrick, in his commentary on the passage just
referred to, takes notice of these Egyptian coffins of syca¬
more wood and of pasteboard; but he does not mention
the contrary usage in the neighbouring countries, which
was requisite in order fully to illustrate the text; though
even this, perhaps, would not have conveyed the whole idea
of the sacred author. Maillet apprehends that all were not
inclosed in coffins who were laid in the Egyptian reposito¬
ries of the dead, but that it was an honour appropriated to
persons of consideration; for after having given an account
of several niches found in those chambers of death, he
adds, “ But it must not be imagined that the bodies de¬
posited in these gloomy apartments were all inclosed in
chests and placed in niches. The greatest part were simply
embalmed and swathed after that manner which every one
hath some notion of; after which they laid them one by
the side of another without any ceremony. Some were
even laid in these tombs without any embalming at all, or
such a slight one that there remains nothing of them in
the linen in which they were wrapped but the bones, and
these half rotten. It is probable that each considerable
family had one of these burial places to themselves; that
the niches were designed for the bodies of the heads of
the families; and that those of their domestics or slaves
had no other care taken of them than the laying them on
the ground, after having them embalmed, or even without
that, which undoubtedly was also all that was done even
to the heads of families of less distinction.” After this he
gives an account of a mode of burial practised anciently in
that country, which consisted in placing the bodies, after
they had been swathed, upon a layer of charcoal, and
covering them with a mat, under a depth of sand of seven
or eight feet.
That coffins then were not universally used in Egypt, is
C O II 19
evident from these accounts; and probably none but per- Coggeshall
sons of distinction were buried in them. It is also reason- II .
able to believe, that in times so remote as those of Joseph C‘^'J
they might be much less common than afterwards; and *
consequently, that Joseph’s being put in a coffin in Egypt
might be mentioned with a design to express the great
honours which the Egyptians showed him at his death,
being interred after the most sumptuous manner in use
among that people. Agreeably to this, the Septuagint
version, which was made for Egyptians, seems to repre¬
sent coffins as a mark of distinction.
It is no objection to this account, that the widow of
Nain’s son is represented as carried forth to be buried in
a <rogos, or bier; for the inhabitants of the Levant, who are
well known to lay their dead bodies in the earth uninclos¬
ed, frequently carry them out to burial in a kind of coffin.
Flence Dr Russell describes the bier used for the Turks
at Aleppo as a kind of coffin much in the form of ours,
only that the lid rises with a ledge in the middle. Chris¬
tians, indeed, as he tells us, are carried to the grave on an
open bier; but as the most common kind of bier resem¬
bles our coffins, that used by the people of Nain might
possibly be of the same kind; in which case the word
cogoj wras very proper.
COGGESHALL, a market-town of the hundred of
Lexden, in the county of Essex, forty-five miles from
London, on the river Blackwater. It was a few years ago
a manufacturing town for baize and other woollen goods,
now chiefly made in Yorkshire. It has a good market on
Saturdays. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 2469,
in 1811 to 2471, in 1821 to 2896, and in 1831 to 3227.
COGILPATTY, a town of Hindustan, in the province
of Tinnevelly, ninety-three miles north by east from Cape
Comorin.
COGN AC, an arrondissement in the department of the
Charente, in France, 363 square miles in extent. It con¬
tains six cantons, divided into eighty-eight communes, and
has a population of 44,967 persons. The chief place, of
the same name, is situated in a rich district on the left
bank of the Charente, celebrated for its excellent brandy.
It contains 503 houses and 2827 inhabitants. It is in
long. 0. 25. 11. W. Lat. 45. 41. 49. N.
COGNATE, in Scotch law, any male relation by the
mother.
COGNATION, in the civil law, a term signifying that
line of consanguinity which exists between males and fe¬
males, both descended from the same father, as agnation
is for the line of parentage between males only descended
from the same stock.
COHABITATION denotes the state of a man and a
woman who live together without being legally married.
COHAHUILA, a province of Mexico, in the intendan¬
cy of San Luis Potosi. Its greatest length is 500 miles,
and its greatest breadth 200 miles. The climate is de¬
scribed as pure and healthy, exqept about the middle of
May, when the heat is intense; and sometimes a scorch¬
ing wind is felt, which blisters the face. This province
receives all its merchandise from Mexico by land, and in
return furnishes horses, mules, wines, and the precious
metals. The vine is the chief article of cultivation, toge¬
ther with grain and corn sufficient for home consumption,
and for the supply of the greater part of the neighbouring
province of Texas. It possesses several towns, but none
of any great magnitude. The population amounts to about
70,000. This province lies between long. 101. and 105. W.
and lat. 23. 31. 30. N.
CO-HEIR, one who succeeds to a share of an inheri¬
tance divided among several persons.
20
Cohesion.
COHESION.
The corpuscular forces, on which the mechanical pro¬
perties of the aggregates of matter depend, have been in
some measure considered, as far as they relate to solids,
in the articles Bridge and Carpentry. There are how¬
ever other modifications of these forces, which are prin¬
cipally exemplified in the Cohesion of Fluids, and which
afford us a series of phenomena, highly interesting to the
mathematician, on account of the difficulty of investigat¬
ing their laws, and of considerable importance to the na¬
tural philosopher, from the variety of forms in which they
present themselves to his observation.
Sect. I.—Fundamental Properties of the Cohesion of a
Single Fluid.
The three states of elastic fluidity, liquidity, and soli¬
dity, in all of which the greater number of simple bodies
are capable of being exhibited at different temperatures,
are not uncommonly conceived to depend on the different
actions of heat only, giving a repulsive force to the par¬
ticles of gases, and simply detaching those of liquids from
that cohesion with the neighbouring particles which is
supposed to constitute solidity. But these ideas, however
universal, may be easily shown to be totally erroneous ;
and it will readily be found, that the immediate effect of
heat alone is by no means adequate to the explanation of
either of the changes of form in question.
There can never be rest without an equilibrium offeree ;
and if two particles of matter attract.each other, and yet
remain without motion, it must be because there exists
also a repulsive force, equal, at the given distance, to the
attractive force. If we imagined the atoms of mattei to
be impenetrable spheres, only resisting when their sui faces
came into actual contact, it would follow, that the degiee
of repulsive force exerted at the same distance must be
capable of infinite variation, so as to counterbalance every
possible modification of the attractive force that could
operate between the particles. In this there would be no
mathematical absurdity, and it may sometimes even be
convenient to admit the hypothesis as an approximation;
but we know, from physical considerations, that the actual
fact is otherwise. The particles of matter are by no means
incompressible; the repulsion varies indeed very rapid¬
ly when they approach near to each other; but the dis¬
tance of the particles and the density of the substance
must inevitably vary, in some finite degree, from the ef¬
fect of -every force that tends to produce either compres¬
sion or expansion.
In elastic fluids, the law of the repulsive force of the
particles is perfectly ascertained ; and it has been shown
to vary very accurately in the inverse ratio of their mutual
distances. It is natural to inquire whether this repulsive
force, continued according to the same law, would be cap¬
able of affording the resistance exhibited by the same
bodies in a liquid or solid form, and holding the cohesive
force in equilibrium ; but in order to answer this question,
it would be necessary to determine the law of the varia¬
tion of the cohesive force with the variation of the density.
Now if this force extended to all particles within a given
distance of each other, whatever the density might be, the
number of particles similarly situated within the sphere of
action being as the density, and each one of this number
being attracted by an equal number, the whole cohesion
urging any two particles to approach each other would ob¬
viously, as Laplace has observed, be as the square of the
density ; but since this cohesive force would increase with Cohesion,
the increase of density accompanying compression, more v—
rapidly than any repulsive force like that of elastic fluids,
there could never be an equilibrium between forces thus
constituted : for, as Newton has justly remarked, the force
of repulsion must be supposed to affect the particles im¬
mediately contiguous to each other only, their number
not increasing with the density. Nor is there any reason
to infer, from the phenomena of cohesion, that this force
extends to a given minute distance, rather than to a given
number of particles, as that of repulsion appears to do.
It would indeed be possible to assign a law for the varia¬
tion of cohesion, which would reduce the repulsion of li¬
quids and of elastic fluids to the action of the same force,
without any other modification than that which depends
on the mutual distance of the particles; but this law is in
itself so improbable that it cannot be considered as afford¬
ing an admissible explanation of the phenomena; for it
would be required that the force of cohesion should dimi¬
nish, instead of’ increasing, with every increase of density,
and with a rapidity nineteen times as great as the repul¬
sion increased. For the height of the modulus of elasti¬
city of all kinds of gaseous substances remaining unalter¬
ed by pressure, that of steam would still be only one twen¬
tieth as high as the modulus of elasticity of water, even
if the steam were compressed by 1200 atmospheres ; and
the resistance to any minute change of dimensions would
be twenty times as great in water as in steam of equal
density, and the variation of the repulsion would be in the
same proportion. It is therefore simplest to suppose the
repulsion itself to be also twenty times as great, and the
cohesion little or not at all altered by the effect of a slight
compression or extension ; and we shall have no difficulty
in imagining this abrupt change in the magnitude of the
repulsive force to depend on an increase of the number of
particles to which it extends; supposing that when cohe¬
sion begins to affect them, this number becomes four or
five times as great as before, and that it is not further in¬
creased by a greater increase of density ; although, like the
distance to which the force of cohesion itself extends, it
may be liable to some modification from the effects of a
change of temperature. Ihus it is probable that the num¬
ber of particles co-operating, both in repulsion and in co¬
hesion, is diminished by the effect of heat; for the dimi¬
nution of the elasticity of a spring is much more than pro¬
portional to the expansion of its substance, although the pri¬
mitive repulsive force of the single particles may very pos¬
sibly be as much augmented by an elevation of tempera¬
ture in this case as in that of an elastic fluid : the cohesive
powers of liquids are also diminished by heat, and indeed
in a considerably greater degree than the stiffness of springs,
although there can be no doubt that there is a considerable
analogy in these changes. However this may be, it appears
that the force of cohesion cannot be supposed to vary much
with the density, and it is therefore allowable to consider
it as constant, at all distances, as far as its action extends ;
while that of repulsion, though it may operate in some de¬
gree at distances somewhat greater, may still be consider¬
ed, on account of its greater intensity at smaller distances,
as equivalent to a resistance terminating at a more minute
interval than that to which the action of cohesion extends.
The distance at which cohesion commences between
the particles of gaseous fluids appears to depend entirely
on the temperature, and for any one fluid it is generally
reduced to one half by an elevation of about 100° of Fab-
COHESION.
21
iCohesion, renheit. In whatever way the particles are caused to ap-
proach nearer than this distance to each other, they be¬
come subject to the action of this force, and rush toge¬
ther with violence, and with a great extrication of heat,
until the increased repulsion affords a sufficient resistance
to the cohesion, and the gas is converted into a liquid.
Superficial observers have sometimes imagined that liquids
possessed little or no cohesion; and it has generally been
supposed that their cohesive powers are far inferior to
those of solids. But that all liquids are more or less co¬
hesive, is sufficiently shown by their remaining attached,
in small portions, to every substance capable of coming
into intimate contact with them, in opposition to the effect
of gravitation, or of any other force ; and the cohesion of
mercury is still more fully exemplified by the well-known
experiment of a column, standing at a height much ex¬
ceeding that of the barometer, when it has been brought,
by strong agitation or otherwise, into perfect contact with
the summit of the tube, and is then raised into a vertical
position; the summit of the tube supporting, or rather
suspending, the upper parts, and each stratum the stratum
immediately below it, with a force determined by the ex¬
cess of its height above that of the column equivalent to
the atmospherical pressure. The perfect equality of the
cohesion of a given substance in the states of solidity and
liquidity appears, however, only to have been asserted in
very modern times ; and the assertion has only been con¬
firmed by a single observation of the sound produced by
a piece of ice, compared with the elasticity exhibited in
Canton’s experiments on the compressibility of water; the
results demonstrating that the resistance is either accu¬
rately or very nearly equal in both cases.
The real criterion of solidity is the lateral gdhesion,
which prevents that change of internal arrangement, by
which a fluid can alter its external dimensions without
any sensible difference in the mutual distances of its par¬
ticles taken collectively, and consequently without any
sensible resistance from the force of cohesion. It is pro¬
bable that this lateral adhesion depends upon some sym¬
metrical arrangement of the constituent parts of the sub¬
stance, while fluidity requires a total independence of these
particles, and an irregularity of situation, affording a faci¬
lity of sliding over each other with little or no friction.
The symmetry of arrangement, when continued uniformly
to a sensible extent, is readily discoverable by the appear¬
ance of crystallization; but there are several reasons for
supposing it to exist, though with perpetual interruptions,
in more uniform masses, or in amorphous solids. It is ob¬
vious that the lateral adhesion, confining the particles so
as to prevent their sliding away, performs an office like
that of the tube of a barometer to which the mercury ad¬
heres, or like that of the vessels employed by Canton and
Zimmerman for confining water which is compressed ; and
enables the cohesive and repulsive powers of the substan¬
ces to be exhibited in their full extent. Nor can we ob¬
tain any direct estimate of these powers, from the slight
cohesion exhibited, in some circumstances, by liquids in
contact with the surface of a solid which is gradually
raised, and carries with it a certain portion of the liquid;
an experiment which had been often made, with a view of
determining the mutual attractions of solids and fluids, but
which was first correctly explained, as Laplace observes,
by our countryman Dr Thomas Young, from its analogy
with the phenomena of capillary tubes.
There are, however, still some difficulties in deducing
these phenomena from the elementary actions of the for¬
ces concerned, whatever suppositions we may make re¬
specting their primitive nature. The intermediate general
principle of a hydrostatic force or pressure, proportional
to the curvature of the surface, had been employed long
ago by Segner, and had been considered by him as the Cohesion,
result of corpuscular powers extending to an insensible
distance only. But Segner’s reasoning on this point is by
no means conclusive, and he has very unaccountably com¬
mitted a great error, in neglecting the consideration of
the effects of a double curvature. There is also an over¬
sight in some of the steps of the demonstration attempted
by Dr Young in his Lectures, which has been pointed out
by an anonymous writer in Nicholson’s Journal; and Mr
Laplace’s final equation for determining the angle of con¬
tact of a solid and a liquid, which Dr Young had first
shown to be constant, has been considered as completely
inaccurate, and as involving an impossibility so manifest
as to destroy all confidence in the theory from which it
was deduced. A demonstration which appears to be less
exceptionable was lately published in the Philosophical
Magazine; and it may serve, with some further illustra¬
tions, for the present purpose.
It is only necessary to consider the actions of such of
the particles of the liquid as are situated at a distance from
the surface shorter than that to which the cohesive force
extends; for all those which are more internal must be
urged equally in all directions by the actions of the sur¬
rounding particles. Now it will readily be perceived, that
the first or outermost stratum of particles will cohere very
weakly with the stratum below it, having only its own at¬
traction to bind it down ; that the second will be urged by
a force nearly twice as great; and that the cohesion will
gradually augment by increments continually diminishing,
until we arrive at the depth of the whole interval to which
the force extends; and below this it will remain constant,
the number of particles within the given distance not un¬
dergoing any further change. It has been observed by Mr
Laplace, that this partial diminution of the density of the
surface is likely to be concerned in facilitating the process
of evaporation ; and it has been cursorily suggested in
another quarter, that the polarisation of light by oblique
reflection may be in some measure influenced by this gra¬
dation of density. But its more immediate effect must be
to produce that uniform tension of the surface which con¬
stitutes so important a principle in the phenomena of ca¬
pillary action; for since the cohesion in the direction of
the surface is the undiminished result of the attractions of
the whole number of particles constituting the stratum,
acting as they would do in any other part of the substance,
it follows that a small cubical portion of the liquid, situ¬
ated in any part of the space which wre are considering,
will be pressed laterally by the whole force of cohesion,
but above and below by that part only which is derived
from the action of the strata above it, so that this minute
portion must necessarily tend to extend itself upwards and
downwards, and to thicken the superficial film, and at the
same time to become thinner in the direction of the surface,
and to shorten it in all its dimensions, unless this altera¬
tion be prevented by some equivalent tension acting in
a contrary direction ; and this tension must be always the
same in the same liquid, whatever its form may be, the
thickness of the whole stratum being always extremely mi¬
nute in comparison with any sensible radius of curvature.
Upon these grounds we may proceed to determine the
actual magnitude of the contractile force derived from a
given cohesion extending to a given distance. Supposing
the corpuscular attraction equable throughout the whole
sphere of its action, the aggregate cohesion of the succes¬
sive parts of the stratum will be represented by the ordi¬
nates of a parabolic curve ; for at any distance x from the
surface, the whole interval being a, the fluxion of the force
will be as d# (a — x), since a number of particles propor¬
tional to d# will be drawn downwards by a number propor¬
tional to a, and upwards by a number proportional to x, and
I
22 C O H E
Cohesion, the whole cohesion, at the given point, will be expressed by
ax — ; and this at last becomes £a2, which must be
equal to the undiminished cohesion in the direction of the
surface; consequently the difference of the forces acting
on the sides of the elementary cube will everywhere be as
— ax + -i*2, and the fluxion of the whole contractile
force will be da: (^a2 — ax + W)’ the fluent of which,
when x — a, becomes ^ct3, which is one third of a x 2a2’
the whole undiminished cohesion of the stratum.
We may therefore conclude in general, that the contractile
force is one third of the whole cohesive force of a stratum of'par¬
ticles, equal in thickness to the interval to which the primitive
equable cohesion extends ; and if the cohesive force be not
equable, we may take the interval which represents its mean
extent as affording a result almost equally accurate. In
the case of water, the tension of each inch of the surface
is somewhat less than three grains, consequently we may
consider the whole cohesive and repulsiveforce of the super¬
ficial stratum as equal to about nine grains. Now since there
is reason to suppose the corpuscular forces of a section of
a square inch of water to be equivalent to the weight of a
column about 750,000 feet high, at least if we allow the
cohesion to be independent of the density, their magni¬
tude will be expressed by 252*5 X 750,000 X 12 grains,
which is to 9 as 252*5 X 1,000,000 to 1; consequently
the extent of the cohesive force must be limited to about
the 250 millionth of an inch; nor is it very probable that
any error in the suppositions adopted can possibly have so
far invalidated this result as to have made it very many
times greater or less than the truth.
Within similar limits of uncertainty we may obtain
something like a conjectural estimate of the mutual dis¬
tance of the particles of vapours* and even of the actual
magnitude of the elementary atoms of liquids, as supposed
to be nearly in contact with each other; for if the distance
at which the force of cohesion begins is constant at the
same temperature, and if the particles of steam are con¬
densed when they approach within this distance, it follows
that at 60° of Fahrenheit the distance of the particles of
pure aqueous vapour is about the 250 millionth of an
inch ; and since the density of this vapour is about one
sixty thousandth of that of Avater, the distance of the par¬
ticles must be about forty times as great; consequent¬
ly the mutual distance of the particles of water must be
about the ten thousand millionth of an inch. It is true
that the result of this calculation will differ considerably,
according to the temperature of the substances compared;
for the phenomena of capillary action, which depend on
the superficial tension, vary much less with the tempera¬
ture than the density of vapour at the point of precipita¬
tion : thus an elevation of temperature amounting to a de¬
gree of Fahrenheit lessens the force of elasticity about one
ten thousandth, the superficial tension about one thou¬
sandth, and the distance of the particles at the point of
deposition about a hundredth. This discordance does not,
however, wholly invalidate the general tenor of the con¬
clusion ; nor will the diversity resulting from it be greater
than that of the actual measurements of many minute ob¬
jects, as reported by different observers ; for example, those
of the red particles of blood, the diameter of which may
be considered as about two million times as great as that
of the elementary particles of water, so that each Avould
contain eight or ten trillions of particles of water at the
utmost. If we supposed the excess of the repulsive force
of liquids above that of elastic fluids to depend rather on
a variation of the law of the force than of the number of
particles co-operating Avith each other, the extent of the
force of cohesion would only be reduced to about two
thirds ; and, on the whole, it appears tolerably safe to con¬
clude, that whatever errors may have affected the deter-
S I O N.
mination, the diameter or distance of the particles of wa- Cohesion,
ter is between the two thousand and the ten thousand ''■•’"vx-'
millionth of an inch.
Sect. II.—Relations of Heterogeneous Substances.
We must now return from this conjectural digression to
the regions of strict mathematical argument, and inquire
into the effect of the contact of substances of different
kinds on the tension of their common sufaces, and on the
conditions required for their equilibrium. Whatever doubts
there may be respecting the variation of the number of
particles co-operating AArhen the actual density of the sub¬
stance is changed, there can be none respecting the con¬
sequence of the contact of two similar substances of dif¬
ferent densities ; for the less dense must necessarily neu¬
tralise the effects of an equivalent portion of the particles
of the more dense, so as to prevent their being concerned
in producing any contractility in the common surface ; and
the remainder, acting at the same interval as when the
substance remained single, must obviously produce an ef¬
fect proportional to the square of the number of particles
concerned, that is, of the difference of the densities of the
substances. This effect may be experimentally illustrat¬
ed by introducing a minute quantity of oil on the surface
of the water contained in a capillary tube ; the joint ele¬
vation, instead of being increased, as it ought to be accord¬
ing to Mr Laplace, is very conspicuously diminished; and
it is obvious, that since the capillary powers are represent¬
ed by the squares of the density of oil and of its difference
from that of water, their sum must be less than the capil¬
lary power of water, which is proportional to the square of
the sum of the separate quantities.
Upon these principles Ave may determine the conditions
of equilibrium of several different substances meeting in
the same point, neglecting for a moment the consideration
of solidity or fluidity, as well as that of gravitation, in es¬
timating the contractile poAvers of the surfaces, and their
angular situations. We suppose then three liquids, of
which the densities are A, B, and C, to meet in a line si¬
tuated in the plane termination of the first; the contrac¬
tile forces of the surfaces will then be expressed by
(A—B)2, (A—C)2, and (B—C)2; and if these liquids be
so arranged as to hold each other in equilibrium, whether
Avith or without the assistance of any external force, the
equilibrium will not be destroyed by the congelation of
the first of the liquids, so that it may constitute a solid.
Noav, unless the joint surface of the second and third coin¬
cides in direction with that of the first, it cannot be held
in equilibrium by the contractility of this surface alone ;
but supposing these two forces to be so combined as to
produce a result perpendicular to the surface of the first
substance, this force may be resisted by its direct attrac¬
tion ; the forces which tend to cause the oblique surface
to move either way on it, balancing each other, and the
perpendicular attraction being counteracted by some ex¬
ternal force holding the solid in its situation. Consequent¬
ly the force expressed by (B—C)a, reduced in the propor¬
tion of the radius to the cosine of the angle, must become
equal to the difference of the forces (A—B)2 and (A—C)2;
and if the radius be called unity, this cosine must be
(A—C)2—(A—B)2 _2 AB—2 AC—(IF—C2)
(B—C)2 " (B—C)2
_ ^ A (B + C)^ jg excess 0f twice the density
of the solid above the sum of the densities of the liquids,
divided by the difference of these densities; and when
there is only one liquid, and C = 0, this cosine becomes
COHESION.
23
ohesion. 2 A j vanishing when 2 A B, and the density of the
 ^ B
solid is half of that of the liquid, the angle then becoming a
right one, as Clairaut long ago inferred from other consi¬
derations. Supposing the attractive density of the solid
to be very small, the cosine will approach to — 1, and the
an ale of the liquid to two right angles ; and on the other
hand, when A becomes equal to B, the cosine will be 1,
and the angle will be evanescent, the surface of the liquid
coinciding in direction with that of the solid. If the den¬
sity A be still further increased, the angle cannot undergo
any further alteration, and the excess of force will only
tend to spread the liquid more rapidly on the solid, so that
a thin film would always be found on its surface, unless it
were removed by evaporation, or unless its formation were
prevented by some unknown circumstance which seems to
lessen the intimate nature of the contact of liquids with
dry solids. For the case of glass and mercury we find
— about h and the cosine — f, which corresponds to an
B 8
angle of 139°; and if we add a second liquid, the expres¬
sion will become which will always indicate an
angle less than 180°, as long as C remains less than 1, or
as long as the liquid added is less dense than glass. I here
must, therefore, have been a slight inaccuracy in the ob-
servation mentioned by Mr Laplace, that the suiface of
mercury contained in a glass tube becomes hemispherical
under water; and if we could obtain an exact measure¬
ment of the angle assumed by the mercury under these
circumstances, we should at once be able to infei fiom it
the comparative attractive density of water and glass,
which has not yet been ascertained, although it might be
deduced with equal ease from the comparative height of a
portion of mercury contained in two unequal branches of
the same tube, observed in the air and under water. The
cosine is more exactly — ‘TS5, in the case of the contact of
glass and mercury, and —g- = ’265, whence -g- = ’7755'’
which is a disproportion somewhat greater than that of the
specific gravities; but it must probably vary with the va¬
rious kinds of glass employed.
There is also another mode of determining the angle of
contact of a solid with a single liquid, which has been in¬
geniously suggested by Mr Laplace: it is derived from
the principle of the invariability of the curvature ot the
surface at a given elevation; and its results agree with
those which we have already obtained, except that it does
not appear to be applicable to the case of more than one
liquid in contact with the given solid. Supposing a capil¬
lary tube to be partially inserted into a liquid, if we ima¬
gine it to be continued into a similar tube of the liquid,
leaving a cylinder or column of indefinite length in the
common cavity, then the action of either tube upon the
liquid immediately within it will have no tendency either
to elevate or to depress the column ; but the attraction of
the portion of the tube above the column will tend to raise
it with a certain force, and the lower end of the tube will
exert an equal force upon the portion of the column im¬
mediately below it; and this double force will only be op¬
posed by the single attraction of the liquid continuation
of the tube drawing down the column above it, so that the
weight of the column suspended will be as the excess of
twice the attractive force of the solid above that of the li¬
quid. Now supposing two plates of the solid in question
to approach very near each other, so that the elevation
may be very great in comparison with the radius of cur¬
vature of the surface, which in this case mayr be consider¬
ed as uniform, the weight suspended will then be simply as Cohesion,
the elevation, which will be the measure of the efficient
attractive force, and will vary with it, if we suppose the
nature of the solid to vary, the radius of curvature vary¬
ing in the inverse ratio of the elevation ; but the radius of
curvature is to half the distance of the plates, as unity to
the numerical sine of half the angular extent of the sur¬
face, or the cosine of the angle of the liquid, so that this
cosine will be inversely as the radius, or directly as the
elevation, that is, as the efficient attractive force, which
is expressed by 2 A — B becoming = — I when A va-
, , , • 1 1 — B
nishes, and consequently being always equal to  ^ ,
as we have already found from other considerations. If
we wished to extend this mode of reasoning to the effect
of a repulsive force counteracting the cohesion, we should
only have to suppose the diameter of the tube diminished
on each side by the interval which is the limit of the re¬
pulsion, since beyond this the repulsion could not inter¬
fere with the truth of the conclusions, for want of any
particles situated in the given directions near enough to
each other to exhibit it; and within the stratum more
immediately in contact with the solid, the forces may be
supposed to balance each other by continuing their action
along its surface until they are opposed by similar forces
on the outside of the tube or elsewhere; and indeed such
a repulsive stratum seems in many cases to be required
for affording a support to the extended surface of the liquid
when the solid does not project beyond it. It may also
be shown, in a manner nearly similar, by supposing the
column to be divided into concentric cylinders, that the
superficial curvature of the liquid will not affect the truth
of the conclusion.
Sect. III.—Forms of Surfaces of Simple Curvature.
We may now proceed upon the principle admitted by
all parties, of a hydrostatic pressure proportional to the
curvature of the surface of the liquid, which is equivalent
to a uniform tension of that surface, and which either sup¬
ports the weight or pressure of the fluid within its conca¬
vity, or suspends an equal column from its convexity, whe¬
ther with the assistance of the pressure of the atmosphere,
or more simply by the immediate effect of the same cohe¬
sion that is capable of retaining the mercury of the baro¬
meter in contact with the summit of the tube ; and on this
foundation we may investigate the properties of the forms
assumed by the surface, first considering the cases of
simple curvature which are analogous to some of the va¬
rieties of the elastic curve, and next those of the surfaces
having an axis of revolution, which will necessarily involve
us in still more complicated calculations.
A. Let the height of the curve at its origin he a, the hori¬
zontal absciss z, the vertical ordinate y, the sine of the angu¬
lar elevation of the surface s, the versed sine v, and the rect¬
angle contained by the ordinate and the radius of simple cur¬
vature r ; then the area of the curve will be rs, and y —
(a2 + 2rv).
The fluxion of the curve z is jointly as the radius of cur¬
vature -, and as the fluxion of the angle of elevation, which
V
we may call w, or dz zz — die, and da? — -v/ (1 s ) dz
_ _ s2)^ die,- but v" (1 — s2) dw z= ds, conse¬
quently da: z= - ds, and ydx, the fluxion of the area, be¬
comes equal to yds, and the area itself to rs. In older to
COHESION.
Cohesion, the whole cohesion, at the given point, will be expressed by
ax — j^x2; and this at last becomes |a2, which must be
equal to the undiminished cohesion in the direction of the
surface; consequently the difference of the forces acting
on the sides of the elementary cube will everywhere be as
^a2—ax + and the fluxion of the whole contractile
force will be d« (^a2 — ax + the fluent of which,
when x -zz a, becomes ^-a3, which is one third of a x 2a2>
the whole undiminished cohesion of the stratum.
We may therefore conclude in general, that the contractile
force is one third of the whole cohesive force of a stratum of ■par¬
ticles, equal in thickness to the interval to which the primitive
equable cohesion extends ; and if the cohesive force be not
equable, we may take the interval which represents its mean
extent as affording a result almost equally accurate. In
the case of water, the tension of each inch of the surface
is somewhat less than three grains, consequently we may
consider the whole cohesive and repulsive force of the super¬
ficial stratum as equal to about nine grains. Now since there
is reason to suppose the corpuscular forces of a section of
a square inch of water to be equivalent to the weight of a
column about 750,000 feet high, at least if we allow the
cohesion to be independent of the density, their magni¬
tude will be expressed by 252*5 X 750,000 X 12 grains,
which is to 9 as 252*5 X 1,000,000 to 1; consequently
the extent of the cohesive force must be limited to about
the 250 millionth of an inch; nor is it very probable that
any error in the suppositions adopted can possibly have so
far invalidated this result as to have made it very many
times greater or less than the truth.
Within similar limits of uncertainty we may obtain
something like a conjectural estimate of the mutual dis¬
tance of the particles of vapours* and even of the actual
magnitude of the elementary atoms of liquids, as supposed
to be nearly in contact with each other; for if the distance
at which the force of cohesion begins is constant at the
same temperature, and if the particles of steam are con¬
densed when they approach within this distance, it follows
that at 60° of Fahrenheit the distance of the particles of
pure aqueous vapour is about the 250 millionth of an
inch ; and since the density of this vapour is about one
sixty thousandth of that of water, the distance of the par¬
ticles must be about forty times as great; consequent¬
ly the mutual distance of the particles of water must be
about the ten thousand millionth of an inch. It is true
that the result of this calculation will differ considerably,
according to the temperature of the substances compared;
for the phenomena of capillary action, which depend on
the superficial tension, vary much less with the tempera¬
ture than the density of vapour at the point of precipita¬
tion : thus an elevation of temperature amounting to a de¬
gree of Fahrenheit lessens the force of elasticity about one
ten thousandth, the superficial tension about one thou¬
sandth, and the distance of the particles at the point of
deposition about a hundredth. This discordance does not,
however, wholly invalidate the general tenor of the con¬
clusion ; nor will the diversity resulting from it be greater
than that of the actual measurements of many minute ob¬
jects, as reported by different observers; for example, those
of the red particles of blood, the diameter of which may
be considered as about two million times as great as that
of the elementary particles of water, so that each would
contain eight or ten trillions of particles of water at the
utmost. If we supposed the excess of the repulsive force
of liquids above that of elastic fluids to depend rather on
a variation of the law of the force than of the number of
particles co-operating with each other, the extent of the
force of cohesion would only be reduced to about two
thirds ; and, on the whole, it appears tolerably safe to con¬
clude, that whatever errors may have affected the deter¬
mination, the diameter or distance of the particles of wa- Cohesion,
ter is between the two thousand and the ten thousand
millionth of an inch.
Sect. II.—Helalions of Heterogeneous Substances.
We must now return from this conjectural digression to
the regions of strict mathematical argument, and inquire
into the effect of the contact of substances of different
kinds on the tension of their common sufaces, and on the
conditions required for their equilibrium. Whatever doubts
there may be respecting the variation of the number of
particles co-operating when the actual density of the sub¬
stance is changed, there can be none respecting the con¬
sequence of the contact of two similar substances of dif¬
ferent densities ; for the less dense must necessarily neu¬
tralise the effects of an equivalent portion of the particles
of the more dense, so as to prevent their being concerned
in producing any contractility in the common surface; and
the remainder, acting at the same interval as when the
substance remained single, must obviously produce an ef¬
fect proportional to the square of the number of particles
concerned, that is, of the difference of the densities of the
substances. This effect may be experimentally illustrat¬
ed by introducing a minute quantity of oil on the surface
of the water contained in a capillary tube ; the joint ele¬
vation, instead of being increased, as it ought to be accord¬
ing to Mr Laplace, is very conspicuously diminished ; and
it is obvious, that since the capillary powers are represent¬
ed by the squares of the density of oil and of its difference
from that of water, their sum must be less than the capil¬
lary power of water, which is proportional to the square of
the sum of the separate quantities.
Upon these principles we may determine the conditions
of equilibrium of several different substances meeting in
the same point, neglecting for a moment the consideration
of solidity or fluidity, as well as that of gravitation, in es¬
timating the contractile powers of the surfaces, and their
angular situations. We suppose then three liquids, of
which the densities are A, B, and C, to meet in a line si¬
tuated in the plane termination of the first; the contrac¬
tile forces of the surfaces will then be expressed by
(A—B)2, (A—C)2, and (B—C)2; and if these liquids be
so arranged as to hold each other in equilibrium, whether
with or without the assistance of any external force, the
equilibrium will not be destroyed by the congelation of
the first of the liquids, so that it may constitute a solid.
Now, unless the joint surface of the second and third coin¬
cides in direction with that of the first, it cannot be held
in equilibrium by the contractility of this surface alone ;
but supposing these two forces to be so combined as to
produce a result perpendicular to the surface of the first
substance, this force may be resisted by its direct attrac¬
tion ; the forces which tend to cause the oblique surface
to move either way on it, balancing each other, and the
perpendicular attraction being counteracted by some ex¬
ternal force holding the solid in its situation. Consequent¬
ly the force expressed by (B—C)2, reduced in the propor¬
tion of the radius to the cosine of the angle, must become
equal to the difference of the forces (A—B)2and (A—C)2;
and if the radius be called unity, this cosine must be
(A—C)2—(A—B)2 2 AB—2 AC—(B2—C2)
(B—C)2 ~ (B—C)2
— - ^ which is the excess of twice the density
Xj-" Lv
of the solid above the sum of the densities of the liquids,
divided by the difference of these densities; and when
there is only one liquid, and C = 0, this cosine becomes
COHESION.
Cohesion. 2A ^ vanishing when 2 A = B, and the density of the
solid is half of that of the liquid, the angle then becoming a
right one, as Clairaut long ago inferred from other consi¬
derations. Supposing the attractive density of the solid
to be very small, the cosine will approach to — 1, and the
antrle of the liquid to two right angles ; and on the other
hand, when A becomes equal to B, the cosine will be 1,
and the angle will be evanescent, the surface of the liquid
coinciding in direction with that of the solid. If the den¬
sity A be still further increased, the angle cannot undergo
any further alteration, and the excess of force will only
tend to spread the liquid more rapidly on the solid, so that
a thin film would always be found on its surface, unless it
were removed by evaporation, or unless its foimation woie
prevented by some unknown circumstance which seems to
lessen the intimate nature of the contact of liquids with
dry solids. For the case of glass and mercury we find
about l, and the cosine — f, which corresponds to an
angle of 139° ; and if we add a second liquid, the expres-
sion will become which will always indicate an
angle less than 180°, as long as C remains less than 1, or
as long as the liquid added is less dense than glass. There
must, therefore, have been a slight inaccuracy in the ob¬
servation mentioned by Mr Laplace, that the suiface of
mercury contained in a glass tube becomes hemispherical
under water; and if we could obtain an exact measure¬
ment of the angle assumed by the mercury under these
circumstances, we should at once be able to infer from it
the comparative attractive density of w'ater and glass,
which has not yet been ascertained, although it might be
deduced with equal ease from the comparative height of a
portion of mercury contained in two unequal branches of
the same tube, observed in the air and under water. The
cosine is more exactly — '735, in the case of the contact of
glass and mercury, and -y- = "265, whence y- =
which is a disproportion somewhat greater than that of the
specific gravities; but it must probably vary with the va¬
rious kinds of glass employed.
There is also another mode of determining the angle of
contact of a solid with a single liquid, which has been in¬
geniously suggested by Mr Laplace: it is derived from
the principle of the invariability of the curvature ol the
surface at a given elevation; and its results agree with
those which we have already obtained, except that it does
not appear to be applicable to the case of more than one
liquid in contact with the given solid. Supposing a capil¬
lary tube to be partially inserted into a liquid, if we ima¬
gine it to be continued into a similar tube of the liquid,
leaving a cylinder or column of indefinite length in the
common cavity, then the action of either tube upon the
liquid immediately within it will have no tendency either
to elevate or to depress the column ; but the attraction of
the portion of the tube above the column will tend to raise
it with a certain force, and the lower end of the tube will
exert an equal force upon the portion of the column im¬
mediately below it; and this double force will only be op¬
posed by the single attraction of the liquid continuation
of the tube drawing down the column above it, so that the
weight of the column suspended will be as the excess of
twice the attractive force of the solid above that of the li¬
quid. Now supposing two plates of the solid in question
to approach very near each other, so that the elevation
may be very great in comparison with the radius of cur¬
vature of the surface, which in this case may be consider-
23
ed as uniform, the weight suspended will then be simply as Cohesion,
the elevation, which will be the measure of the efficient -v'w'
attractive force, and will vary with it, if we suppose the
nature of the solid to vary, the radius of curvature vary¬
ing in the inverse ratio of the elevation ; but the radius of
curvature is to half the distance of the plates, as unity to
the numerical sine of half the angular extent of the sur¬
face, or the cosine of the angle of the liquid, so that this
cosine will be inversely as the radius, or directly as the
elevation, that is, as the efficient attractive force, which
is expressed by 2 A — B becoming = — 1 when A va-
2  B
nishes, and consequently being always equal to •—^ ,
as we have already found from other considerations. If
we wished to extend this mode of reasoning to the effect
of a repulsive force counteracting the cohesion, we should
only have to suppose the diameter of the tube diminished
on each side by the interval which is the limit of the re¬
pulsion, since beyond this the repulsion could not inter¬
fere with the truth of the conclusions, for want of any
particles situated in the given directions near enough to
each other to exhibit it; and within the stratum more
immediately in contact with the solid, the forces may be
supposed to balance each other by continuing their action
along its surface until they are opposed by similar forces
on the outside of the tube or elsewhere; and indeed such
a repulsive stratum seems in many cases to be required
for affording a support to the extended surface of the liquid
when the solid does not project beyond it. It may also
be shown, in a manner nearly similar, by supposing the
column to be divided into concentric cylinders, that the
superficial curvature of the liquid will not affect the truth
of the conclusion.
Sect. III.—Forms of Surfaces of Simple Curvature.
We may now proceed upon the principle admitted by
all parties, of a hydrostatic pressure proportional to the
curvature of the surface of the liquid, which is equivalent
to a uniform tension of that surface, and which either sup¬
ports the weight or pressure of the fluid within its conca¬
vity, or suspends an equal column from its convexity, whe¬
ther with the assistance of the pressure of the atmosphere,
or more simply by the immediate effect of the same cohe¬
sion that is capable of retaining the mercury of the baro¬
meter in contact with the summit of the tube; and on this
foundation we may investigate the properties of the forms
assumed by the surface, first considering the cases of
simple curvature which are analogous to some of the va¬
rieties of the elastic curve, and next those of the surfaces
having an axis of revolution, which will necessarily involve
us in still more complicated calculations.
A. Let the height of the curve at its origin be a, the hori¬
zontal absciss z, the vertical ordinate y, the sine of the angu¬
lar elevation of the surface s, the versed sine v, and the rect¬
angle contained by the ordinate and the radius of simple cur¬
vature r ; then the area of the curve will be rs, and y —
(a2 2rv).
The fluxion of the curve z is jointly as the radius of cur¬
vature and as the fluxion of the angle of elevation, which
V
we may call w, or dz zz — dtc, and da; — v/ (1 s2) dz
_ ^/n — s2)- &w ; but (1 s2) dw = ds, conse-
•V \ y y
quently da: zz - ds, and ydx, the fluxion of the area, be¬
comes equal to rds, and the area itself to rs. In order to
24
COHESION.
Cohesion.
find w, we have dw = sds: s - dw — - dv ; whence ydy
y y
— rdv, and y1 = 2rv + aa, y becoming equal to a when
v vanishes.
It may also be immediately inferred, that the area of
the curve must vary as the sine of the inclination of the
surface, from considering that, according to the princi¬
ples of the resolution of forces, the tension being uniform,
the weight which it supports must be proportional to that
sine.
Scholium. The value of r for water at common tem¬
peratures is about one hundredth of a square inch, accord¬
ing to the results of a variety of experiments compared
by Dr Young; or, more correctly, if we adopt the more
recent measurement of Mr Gay Lussac, 'OHS ; for alco¬
hol Mr Gay Lussac’s experiments give r — •0047, and
for mercury r — ’0051. Dr Young had employed *005
for mercury, a number which appears to be so near the
truth that it may still be retained, for the greater conve¬
nience of calculation. Hence, in a very wide vessel, the
smallest ordinate a being supposed evanescent, and y
— ^{Zrv) = T516 yV, the height of the water rising
against the side of the vessel, when =r 1, will be ’1516 ;
and the utmost height at which the water will adhere to
a horizontal surface, raised above its general level, will be
2 ^/r — ’2145. For mercury, y becomes in these circum¬
stances y'(’010247) = *101 and if « = ’735, v — '322,
and the depression of the surface in contact with a verti¬
cal surface of glass becomes *0573; and again, when
v — F735, as in the case of a large portion of mercury
lying on a plate of glass, the height y is *133 ; and if the
glass had no attraction at all for mercury, v would be¬
come 2, and the height •1428. The actual tension ot the
surface of mercury is to that of water as •0051 X 13’6,
or -06936 to *0115 ; that is, a little more than six times as
great; while the angle of contact of mercury with glass,
which is more attractive than water, would have led us to
expect a disproportion somewhat greater. If we take a
mean of these results, and estimate it at seven times, the
value of yV will be reduced by immersing mercury stand-
, . . , . ^ 6 , 13-6 .
mg on glass into water in the ratio or - X v yglg* since
the buoyant effect of the water increases the value of r,
so that \/(2r) will be ’09, and the angle approaching to
180°, the height will be about *127.
B. When the curve is infinite, the absciss x becomes —
1 y r HL ‘—j- ^777“ —4 +v/('D — if ), reckoning
from the greatest ordinate y — 2 /fir ; and the excess of the
length of the curve above the absciss is 2 nfir — y'(4r —y1).
diet 1 — (u
In this case, a being = 0, y2 = 2rv ; but ^ ^—
1 — v 2r — 2rv 2r — yy
find x = -5328 /fr ; and where the inclination amounts Cohesion
to a second, x = 11-28 yr; for example, in the case of
water, yr being T072, the latter value of x will become
1-21, and the former -056; so that the surface must be
considered as sensibly inclined to the horizon at the dis¬
tance of more than an inch from the vessel, but scarcely at
an inch and a half; and for mercury these distances will
be two thirds as great. This circumstance must not be
forgotten when mercury is employed for an artificial hori¬
zon, although, where the vessel is circular, the surface be¬
comes horizontal at its centre ; and in other parts the in¬
clination is materially affected by the double curvature.
Corollary 2. The form of the surface coincides in this
case with that of an elastic bar or a slender spring of in¬
finite length, supposed to be bent by a weight fixed to its
extremity; since the curvature of such a spring must al¬
ways be proportional to its distance from the vertical line
passing through the weight. We may therefore deduce
from this proposition the correction required for the length
of a pendulum like Mr Whitehurst’s, consisting of a heavy
ball suspended by a very fine wire. Now the radius of
curvature of the spring is Bridge, Prop. G) ;
the modulus of elasticity, of which M is the weight, being
for iron or steel about 10,000,000 feet in height: and since
eighty inches of the wire weighed three grains, the thick¬
ness a, supposing it to have been one third or two fifths of
the breadth, as is usual in wire flattened for hair springs,
must have been about fij-j of an inch ; the weight f was
12,251 grains ; and the weight of M of ten million feet must
heenA
X 12 X 10000000 grains; consequently,
3 X 10000000
1000
y(2v — vv) y(4r — 2rr)y(2n/) V (4r-
and, by the common rules for finding fluents, x =
2 yr — y(4r — yy}
■yy)y
2r
4 yr
y2), which vanishes
HL   -7- ( + y (4r
2 y^ + y(4r — yy) K
when y — 2 yr ; and for the length of the curve, since
dz 1 1 2r _ . .
c-; subtracting the
y&y
dy s y(2r — vv) y(4r—3/7/)?/
former fluxional co-efficient from this, we have ... .
y(4r yy)
for the fluxion of the difference; and the fluent of this is
— a/ 4r — y2).
Corollary 1. Hence, where the curve is vertical, we
have
Mere!
12/^ “ 80 X 12251 X 375 X 375y “ 12251 X 375y
1 . . r .
= which is analogous to - in these propositions ;
fynjunty y
consequently yr — ; and the whole value of y(4r—y1)
from y — 2 yr to ?/ = 0, is ^ of an inch. Now, sup¬
posing the spring to have been firmly fixed at the axis
of vibration, the excess of its length above the ordinate
will always be measured by 2 yr — y(4r — y2); but
y(4r — y2) ~ y(4r— 2rv) — yr y(4— 2v), which is
the chord of the supplement of the arc of vibration in the
circle of which the radius is yr = fg; and the ball will
be drawn above its path to a height equal to the distance
between this circle and another of twice the diameter,
touching it at its lowest point; but a perpendicular falling
from this point on the wire would always be found in a cir¬
cle twice as much curved as the first circle ; and if it were
made the centre of vibration, the ball would always be
raised twice as far above its original path as the distance
between the first circle and the second, which is the mea¬
sure of the effect of the curvature ; so that the pendulum
must be supposed to be shortened half as much as this;
that is, in the present instance, of an inch. If, how¬
ever, the spring remained, in Mr Whitehurst’s experiments,
at liberty to turn within the clip, and was firmly fixed at
a considerable distance above, the variation of the length
must have been only that which belongs to half of the arc
of vibration ; that is, one fourth as great as in the former
case, since the versed sine is initially as the square of the
arc ; but since it would affect the spring both above and
below the clip, it would be doubled from this cause, and
would amount to 2^ of an inch; so that the true correc¬
tion would be liable to vary from -00735 to -00367, accord¬
ing to the mode of fixing the wire. But since this error
must have affected both Mr Whitehurst’s pendulums in an
equal degree, and the result was deduced from the dif-
COHESION.
Cohesion, ference, and not the proportion of the lengths, it is free ^ da? _ 2r -{- aa — yy /l , 1 a2 , ^
from any inaccuracy on this account. The calculation, anu &y~ y'(cc—yy) ' 2 * p”’* 4-2 ’
hov/ever, sufficiently proves the necessity of attending to T, f t
the effect of different modes of fixing the spring, in order 5 ’
that no variation maybe made in the different experi- C ^  y*) ; C  
mpnta rnmnarpd without a nrnnpr pnrrpctinn. The elas- \/ (cc—yy) ^ y \/ (cc — yy)
ments compared without a proper correction,
ticity of such a wire as Mr Whitehurst employed, could
not have produced any sensible error, by co-operating with
the force of gravitation, since it did not amount to one ,
two-millionth part of the weight of the ball. ^
C. The relation of the ordinate and absciss may be gene
rally expressed by means of an infinite series. p
When the curve is concave towards the absciss through- J7p~/7
may be compared with the J ^
V {cc —yy)
- hl c—^(cc—yy) - L.
c + V (cc—yy)
r &y _ Vjcc—yy)
- J if k/(cc —
if V(cc—yy)
dy
out its extent, the ordinate may
lengths of hyperbolic and elliptic arcs, as Maclaurin has
- - - -
shown with respect to the elastic curve {Fluxions, § 928)
but his solution fails in the more ordinary cases of the
problem ; and even where it is applicable, the calculation
is very little facilitated by it. Segner has made use of
two different forms of infinite series, each having its pe¬
culiar advantages with respect to convergence in parti¬
cular cases; and other forms may be found, which will
sometimes be more convenient than either of these. The
1 — v
f V{cc
5
™—yy) (
dy   /
—yy) \
2c cyy
1 , 3
8c4?/2
5
2cc
L;
4c2?/4
1
6c2yj
+ d
a ky bit!;/ )
*/{2v — vv)
1
value of the cotangent ^ being in general
2r— 2rv 2r—yy + aa
~\/(4r—2rc)y/'(2rc)~y,(4r—yy + aa) \/{yy — ««)’
we may retain either of these fractions, and expand the
other by means of the binomial theorem.
1. In the first place, making 4r -f- a2 — c2, we have
(C2 —y2)
-i = i +
c
+
f_,]L
c3 ^ 4-2
, da;
and -7- —
dy
f
8-2-3
ff
c7
2r aa
V (yy
1
aa /\ 1
— aa)\c 2 "
4-2
sJ} ■
1 if
+ 2’^ +
4*2
?f_
c6
+
•)
 Pi
V(yy—aa) v
Now, in order to find the fluents of the separate terms,
we have = HL (y + ^ Cw - aa] );
and calling this logarithm L,
/»“vS=7rr'',w-«+Ti,
’if barif
— ^ L; and by combining these fluents we obtain a
second series for x.
3. These series may be employed with advantage where
the initial ordinate is very small, the one being more con¬
venient for the upper, and the other for the lower part of
the curve ; but where the elevation a is more consider¬
able, the form of the curve will be more readily deter¬
mined by means of fluents derived from circular arcs.
Beginning with the expressions  ^7)’ anc^
?/2 = a2 + 2rv, we may seek for a value of x in terms
of v : and since 2i/dij — 2rdv, dy =-dv = , — ,
^ ^ ^ y V{aa+2rvy
and dx=.7= —7 • ,7 —r. The binomial
V (2c — vv) V\aa + 2rv)
 1
(aa 2rv) 2 may then be expanded into a series of
integral powers of v, and the fluents may be found by
means of the equations^^^~7^= e/lT =: w’ ^le arc
/vdv
— = s—w.
= '4*' + A ■ 8)■8w' aml/
2\ , 3tf4 T
' f< ) + L
= (
8-6
■4c2
7-5 _ 7-5-3
 *8c—   •
S-6-4-2
8-6-4
3)
16^ +
c3dc
s
c4dc
s
7-5-3
8-6-4-2
I6?c.
+
 ^_.= PL
V(yy—aa) \6
+ —L; and f]f —3^ ,
‘16 \f (yy — aa)
tf lahf , 7-5a4?/3 7-5*3a6?/
- u “
5 a4?/
16
) V(y2—rf)
4. Another series may be obtained by the expansion of
!nt° *'oM1 + ^+8V2+T6!3b3+-)>
+ '
8-6-4
8-6-4-2
) f(f~
2)
+
7-5-3a3
S-6-4-2
V (2c—cc)
whence —
tly \
fi+i^
yy — ad
L : whence by substitution we have
2r
^ 8-2 V
2r
yy
’,a\
X
yy-
aa\2 \
2r )
the fluxions
_ 2r -|- aa T / 2c aa
X ~ 4c 4- aa ** \2(4c -f- aa)
•(|Vt/-aT+^-L) + .,
1
4c aa,
2. If we reduce
belonging to the series (y1 — a2) zdy, (if — a2) ‘zdy,
1
(if—a2)2 dy ; and the fluents of these are
HL (y + \/[y2 — a2]) = L ; ^y \/(f — a2) —| a2L ;
1 . . i 3ai
V(yy—aa) int° a SeneS’ We have (i f (f ~ <*) + f«2) y V (f — «2) +.-qL> «’hich af-
j aa\ —
~~yy)
VOL. VII.
2 — 1 1 in
~ + 2 f
2 3
lid
4‘2 ’ y4 ‘8’2-3 ’y
7a; +
ford a result somewhat resembling that which is deduced
from the first method.
26
COHESION.
Cohesion. 5. We may also express a? in a series of integral powers
of r/ only, if we suppose it to begin at some point in which
the curve is inclined to the horizon, where the height is
p, calling it at other points p y; and making = r
= a + % + c?/2 + ...; we have then a: = /3+
+ IfJ/3 + — > and the iixevLj\p ^ y~) — y pay
+ tph? + ... + }2atf + J-3 bf + ^ c/ + ..., which
Ay
must be equal to rs (Prop. A.): but s = d/)
1 , which may be developed by means of the
H
general idea of the forms of the curve in different cir- Cohesion
cumstances. The unit of this table is the quantity yV, W"Y'^
which Segner calls the modulus of capillary attraction,
and which for water is *1072 inch. The table begins with
the extreme ordinate, where the curve is vertical: we
have then the least ordinate, a; the greatest ordinate,
where the curve again becomes horizontal; and the absciss
corresponding to the extreme ordinate and to the greatest
ordinate.
V(1 + rr)
Taylorian theorem p (A -f- PI)
M ^
d2(pA) H2
—t- , t taking A = a, and PI = by
dA2 2
cy24-..., whence H2 = ffy2-^ 2iciy3 + (2i(i’q-c2)?/4 +...
H3 — i3?/3 -f 362c?/4 + ...; consequently rs — r<pa ...
r - + T-; ‘ dA//1 j1;;— (by + cy2 + dif
V(l + aa) da /V/( 1 + aa)
+ ey4 + ...)
T 1
+ ^r.d2
2da2 ' “ V(l + aa)
+ 2bcf (2bd + c2)^4 -\- ...)
+ r
. d3
1
-v/fl + aa)
. ( %2)
( fry
2'3da3
+ + ...)
= y + Pad + (hPb + h a>f
+ (^Pc d" + •••; an(l hence by comparing
r t ^
the homologous terms, we find y
-/(1 + aa)
_ P
b — pa —
(1 + aa)\
y/( 1 + aa)’ da
b, and b
= ax + frr3 + car5 + . . . = rs =
3-5
t6 +
4-2 * 8*2’3
+ Sb^cx5 + . • • and ^ = fix5 +
equation
—+ ^-^ + tV + •
r 2’3r 4>'5r
bx + cx3 + dx5
— A ^x3
— ^ • 3b2cx‘
' + # tyx?
, _ a
b — c
r
,; consequently
1
rz —- (1 + ««)!; and in a similar manner we may de¬
termine the subsequent co-efficients ; but the calculation
is somewhat laborious, and has no particular advantages.
6. We may still more readily obtain a similar series for
y in terms of the powers of x with constant co-efficients;
dy
calling ty and making t = fre + cx2 + dx5 + ... whence
yzra + ^^ + ^cx4-!-^ dx6 + ..., and the area fydx
rt
Extreme
Ordinate.
lOOyV
90
80
70
60
50
45
40
35
30
25
20
15
10
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1*9
P8
1-7
1-6
1*5
1-47
1-445
1-428
1-418
1-4142
1-4142
1-4142
1-4142
1-4142
Least
Ordinate.
99-99
89-99
79-99
69-99
59-99
49-98
44J,98
39-97
34-97
29-96
24-96
19-95
14-93
9-90
8-89
7-87
6-85
5-83
4-79
3-74
2-64
1-41
1-27
1-11
•94
•75
•50
•40
•30
•20
•10
•01
•001
•0001
•00001
•000001
Greatest
Ordinate.
100-01
90-01
80-01
70-01
60-02
50-02
45-02
40-02
35-03
30-03
25-04
20-05
15-07
10-10
9-11
8-12
7-14
6-16
5-19
4-24
3-32
2-45
2-37
2-29
2-21
2-13
2-06
2-04
2-02
2-01
2-003
2-000
2-0000
2-0000
2-0000
2-0000
Greatest
Absciss.
•01
•01
•01
•01
•02
•02
•02
•02
•03
•03
•04
•05
•07
•10
•11
•13
•14
•17
•21
•26
•37
•65
•71
•79
•91
1-10
1- 40
P64
P86
2- 24
2-92
5-22
7-52
9-82
12-12
14-43
Terminal
Absciss.
•000001
•000002
•000003
•000004
•000007
•00001
•00002
•00003
•00004
•00006
•0001
•0002
•0004
•001
•002
•003
•004
•007
•01
•02
•06
•22
•27
•33
•47
•65
•96
1-18
1- 44
1-82
2- 49
4-80
7-09
9-39
11-70
14-00
— rt
V(1 + tt)
. ). But t? IP a?
: hence we have the
— 6 + L ^ and d = _ c + | J2 c
— f b\
It is the less necessary to enter into any further detail
of these results, as we have a table calculated by Segner,
with his son’s assistance, which is sufficient to afford us a
It may be observed that the last six values of the least
ordinate are in geometrical progression, while the absciss
increases in arithmetical progression; the difference of
the abscisses 2, 3, being the hyperbolical logarithm of 10,
which is the common multiplier of the ordinates. Al¬
though the table appears to be generally accurate, yet we
cannot always depend on the last figures. Thus the ulti¬
mate difference of the two last columns is made *43, while
it ought to be *53 (Prop. B. Cor. 1). It is scarcely ne¬
cessary to remark, that if we look in the fourth column for
half the distance between two parallel planes of glass, in
a vertical position, the first and second columns will give
us the height to which wrater will rise between them,
where it touches the glass, and in the middle of the in¬
terval.
Sect. IV.—Surfaces of Doable Curvature.
When the liquid is contained in a tube, or when it forms
itself spontaneously into a drop having an axis of revolu¬
tion, it becomes necessary to consider the effect of the
Cohesion.
COHESION.
tension in a direction transverse to that of the principal
section; since the curvature will cause it to exhibit an
equal pressure, whatever the direction of the section to
which it belongs may be; and the curvatures of the sec¬
tions perpendicular to each other will either co-operate
with or counteract each other, according as the con¬
vexities of both are on the same side, or on the opposite
sides, of the surface. But the simple consideration of
the tension supporting the weight of the parts below, or
the equivalent pressure in a contrary direction, will at
once afford us the equations necessary for the solution of
the problem, without any immediate reference to the cur¬
vature in question.
D. The form of a surface of revolution may he determin¬
ed by means of an infinite series.
The fluxion of the weight or mass of the parts con¬
tained within the cylindrical surface, of which x is the ra¬
dius or absciss, and y the ordinate, being always propor¬
tional to yx&x, and the fluent to fyx&x; and the extent
of the circumference supporting it varying also as x,
and the contractile force being diminished when reduced
to the direction of gravitation, in the ratio of the radius
unity to the sine of the elevation s, it wall always be pro¬
portional to xs; so that we have the general equation
fyx&x = mxs. Now if we suppose y incomparably greater
than x, and the surface extremely minute, the variation
of y may be neglected, and we have in this case^^da;
= tyx2-, and supposing also s = 1, and the curve vertical,
iyae2 = mx, and %yx = m, x becoming also equal to the
radius of curvature. But it is easy to perceive that the
height y must be twice as great, for any value of x, as in
the case of a simple curvature, since each portion of the
circumference has here only to support a wedge, which is
only half as heavy as a parallelepiped of the same height;
so that \yx will be equal to yx in Proposition A, and
rn — r.
In order to obtain a series for finding y from the equa-
, dy ,
tion fyxdiX = mxs, we may put the tangent < _ — — or
+ ac3 + rfx5 + ..., whence y = « + ^bx2 + + ^dx^
+ ..., and^da? = ^ax* + ^ cx6 + —g e^8
+ ; and the value of s = being expanded
.11
into a series, as in Proposition C, n G, calling —, or —, g,
we find s =■ ^fyxdx = fo: + cz3 + dx5 + cx7 + ...
— Wx?—t-3b*cx?
\ 3 6c2 + J
x7 + ...
+ lx &5 ic5 + § * 5 &4e + ...
-ft v *7 -•••
2 ?«* + 2^ ^ + Te ^ + frS qdxl + "
e =
f
2-4<
1
C=~qb + J-63
2‘42,6
1
2-42-62-8
1
2-4
q3b +
82 ojq I 105 „
2'4-62-8 qW+ 2-4-G-8 9
652 ^
2-42-62-82T0
fb +
15
1 2-4-G
2645
+
1260
g =
2-4-6-8-10
2-42-62-82-10M0 ^ +
gb7 +
1
105
2-4-G-8
5197
27
Cohesion.
i#3
2-4-62-82-102-12
, 59855 , 70522-5 9W
2-4-6-82-102-12 9 + 2-4-6-8-102-10 9
h =
l =
2-4-6-8T0-12
1
a 26
consequently b — \ ga — —, and a — — —2rb; and by
continuing the calculation, and reducing the values, we
find
2-42-62-
122-14 qGb +
1303034
2-4-6-82-102-122-14
2-4-6-8-10
41800
2-4-62-82--122-14
qW
2.42.62.. 142.16
1
2-42-62--162-18
1
q7b +
q% +
flf + .
339412
2-4-62-82-142-l6
2779888
2-4-62-82--162-18
22941328
k =
l = 2-42-62--182-20qJh ' 2-4-62.82"182-20
We may here observe, that the numerical co-efficients
of the highest powers of b form the series
<l*b* + '
q7W +
fV + .
3
2-4’
3-5
2-4-6’
3-5-7
6
_ _   2-4-6-S’ 6’ 2-4-6-8-10’ 6 ’
the ratio of the successive terms of both continually ap¬
proaching to equality, and those of the next in order
the series Jj, | Jfg. the laws of the
numerical co-efficients in general appear to be wholly in¬
capable of being reduced to any simple form. It will be
convenient for calculation to form tables of the logarith¬
mic values of these co-efficients, which may be continued
by means of successive differences, for as many terms as
are requisite for any practical purpose. The indices, with
lines drawn over them, are to be considered as negative
numbers.
Logarithmic Co-efficients of the Value of the Sine.
3-5-7-9
2-4-62-82-10
2-4-6-82-10
b7
cflp
s = ( 0. 0000000
+ T 0969100 qx?
+ jh 7166987 y2*4
+ 47 0354574 tfx6
+ 67 1323674 g4*8
+ "87 0531861 qbx™
+ if. 8278768 q6x12
+ OT. 4776288 q7xH
+ 45. 0182362 q8x16
+ 18. 4619336
+ 2X. 8184809 q'Ox®
+ ._L. ) bx
+ ^ 3187587 qx?
+ ^ 6375174 yV
+ 47 6482413 yV5
+ 57 4694937 fxs
+ ^ 1456895 ^a;10
+ "87 7008651 y6a512
+ 97 1510234 q7xu
+ FT. 5080209 cfx16
+ IS. 7811595 9V8
+ lK_9774...
+ 167 1026 ... qVx22
+ la 160 q™x*
+ 20. 16 tf13*26
+ 22. 10 q^^xP
+ 24. 0 q^xP
+ _.) &3ar3
+ (37 8927900 qx*
+ 37 5337080 (fx*
+ j4. 8558231 (fx*
+ ^ 9851885 (fx»
+ 6. 9727959 (fx™
q7xu
(fxm
,18
q9x
q^x29
+ 7^ 82 . .
+ _8. 57 . .
+ jh 27 ..
+ H. 97 . .
+ 12. 77 ..
+ ^ ) JAr5
+ (a 5917600 qx2
37 4368580 q2xt
T. 9595058 (fx*
L1_. b7x7
37 3576767 qx2
+ 17 3498514 q2x*
+ ) V'x9
+ (37 1657913 qx2
+ . . . ) Wx*
y
COHESION.
Logarithmic Co-cfficients of the Value of the Ordinate y
= [f] + 0-6989700
+ 2. 4948500 got?
+ T. 9385474 tfx*
+ T. 1323674 fx6
+ J. 1323674 fa?
+ TO. 9740048 fx10
+ 12. 6817488 <fx12
+ 14. 2735087 q^xu
+ IT. 7629636 fx™
+ 19. 1609036 q^x™
+ . . . ) bx2
+ (T. 0969100
+ IT 5406074 qx2
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
~2. 7958800
IT 5337080 qx2
T. 9350043 q2x?
IV. 1313165 (fxs
"4" 1769159 fx*
~S. 08 fx10
Y. 87 q6x12
IT 51 q7xli
~9. 35 fx16
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
_3. 6482413 q2x*
Y. 5486749 ifxG
Y. 2918175 qAa?
Y 9049851 q5x10
Y. 4062959 q^x12
TO. 8090509 q7xli
TT. 1235822 qW6
TV 3576
15. 5176
17. 607 .
19. 637 .
+ 10. 18 q9xls
+ ... ) l?xG
+ Y. 5917600
+ Y. 6709412 qa?
-f 27 1056338 q2x?
•8
•6
•4
•2
' -1
Hence if
. b =
0-3073
•1147
•4160
1-503
' 5-776
14-004
15-774
5-737
2-399
1-2717
1-0638
274
13-214
•8556
•06311
•01155
Cohesior,
200
1-625
•03693
•00486
•0311
•00278
+ (2.
+ 2.
+ LI.
+ (2.
+ . •
+ ••
4368579
4959794 qa?
) b9xw
3119193
) bnx12
r.9^18
. qJxl
_ qwx?0
,.qnx®
: qVix~G
s —
•7248 +-0252
•7237 +-0265
•7160 + -0254 + *0060 + [-0026]
•7211 + -0240 + -0041 + [-0010]
•7345 + -0122 + -0024 + -0007 + [-0003]
•7449+ '0040 +-0008 +-0002+ [-0001]
+ 21. 60
+ 23. 5 514*28
+ ....) Z*3*4
E. The elevation or depression of a liquid contained in a
given tube may be found by reversing the series.
Having a given value of x, the semidiameter of the
tube, and also of s, the elevation or depression of the sur¬
face of the liquid at the point of contact with the solid,
we obtain an equation of the form s := AZ> + BZ>3 + CZ>5
-f . . .; and from this we may determine the central ele¬
vation or depression a = 2rb by the well-known method
of the reversion of series, which give us the value b = -^s
B _ /C 3B2\ - /D, sBC, 12B3\
A* ^ (a8 A7 / (a8 A9+A10 +
But it is more convenient to assume an approximate value
of b, a little less than and to find the corresponding
value of s; then, since ds = Ad Z» + BZ>2d 6 + 5 C Z»4d 6+ ...,
if we make Ab + 3BZ>3 + 5CZ>5+ .. . = 2, we shall have
— : consequently the small increments of s and b will
d6 6 1 J
be to each other as 2 to b, and we obtain the correction
of b from the error of the calculated value of s; and if
the calculation be repeated with the corrected value of b,
the second result will always be sufficiently near to the
truth.
In order to judge of the accuracy of this mode of calcu¬
lation, which Mr Laplace appears to have thought liable
to some undefined objection, it will be necessary to enter
into the details of its different elements, which will suffi¬
ciently show the degree of convergence of the series, and
the greatest possible amount of error.
Values of the Co-efficients of s for Tubes of different Dia¬
meters, r being -005, and s — -75.
D = 2cc s= bx X + b3a? X + ZAc5 X + b7x7 X
1*0 47-176 7190
It appears, upon inspection of this table, that the co-ef¬
ficients of bx alone always determine |{J- of the value of
the quantity required, and these are easily calculated with
perfect accuracy, so that the error must always be far less
than and in fact the actual uncertainty never exceeds
of the whole, at least in the last four examples. The
differences of Mr Laplace’s approximatory calculations
from these results are incomparably greater, so that we
cannot hesitate to consider these differences as errors.
Indeed, when we recollect that in the method employed
by Mr Bouvard, under Mr Laplace’s directions, the radius
of curvature of each of the small portions into which the
curve has been cut up, has been determined from the or¬
dinate at the beginning of the portion, it is obvious that
the curvature thus found must be less than the truth, and
that in order to obtain any required curvature of the
whole surface, the depression must be increased in the
same proportion ; and there is no ready way of appreciat¬
ing the amount of this error. Dr Young had before at¬
tempted to avoid it, in making an estimate of the same
nature, by calculating for the middle of each portion ; but,
from some accident, the numbers of his table, published
in 1807, are generally a little too small, although the me¬
thod which he then employed is nearly the same as that
which Mr Laplace afterwards adopted, except that for
the lowest portion of the curve Mr Laplace had recourse
to an infinite series, applicable only to that part. The
elements deduced in Nicholson’s Journal for 1809, from
Mr Gay Lussac’s experiments, which are r — -0051 and
s — *7353, agree better with the numbers found in Mr
Laplace’s table, than those from which it was construct¬
ed, which were r — -005038 and s rr -729 ; the depres¬
sions being always a little larger than the true results
from the elements assumed.
The value of the ordinate y depends also principally on
the first variable member of the series, although the sub¬
sequent co-efficients are not so inconsiderable as in the de¬
termination of the sine. Thus, taking x — -2, and b —1-503,
we have y — a -813 ba? + -99 ZAr4 + 2*97 ZAc6 + . . .
= -01503 + -0489 + -0054 + -0015 + [-0006] = -0714,
which is the marginal depression, leaving -0564 for the
height of the convex portion y — a. We may determine
the effect of any small variations in this height, in the
same manner as that of the sine of the inclination ; sup¬
posing them to depend on a change of the angle of con¬
tact only, the quantity r remaining unaltered, it is obvious
that q and x must retain their value, while y and b only
_ /,d(y —a)
dZ>
vary, and making Y = AZ> + 3 BZ*3 + . . . = Z>
we have Y : 6 = d (t/ — a) : dZ». In the present instance,
we find Y = -0489 + 3 X -0054 + 5 X -0015 + . ..
= -079; and supposing, as in the example suggested by
Mr Laplace, the variation of the height y — a to be
•00394, which is 2\yth of Y, that of b will be g^th of Z>, or
•075, and the variation of the central depression a, -00075,
which is somewhat less than one fifth of the alteration in
C O H
C O H
29
Cohesion the height of the convex portion ; but in smaller tubes it
II is obvious that the variations of the depression a might
Cohorn, exceed that of the height of the convex portion.
Nothing can be easier or more direct than this part of the
calculation ; and it is remarkable that Mr Laplace should
have considered the awkward contrivance of building up
a curve, like the arch of a bridge, with fourteen blocks on
each side, as possessing any thing like an “ advantage”
over the series in the determination of this variation.
If we wish to find the effect of a small variation of the
diameter of a tube, from D to D D', on the depression
a of the mercury comained in it, we may use for the in-
o! CD^
terpolation the formula — = 10 — 1, C being about
2-9 for tubes between 1 inch and j-th of an inch in dia¬
meter, and being elsewhere easily deduced from the de¬
pressions already known. For variations of the cohesive
power, and of its measure r, we may suppose the whole
of the numbers of the table to be altered in the proportion
of the supposed alteration of ^r, and the change pro-
Cohorn.
duced by restoring the diameter to its former dimensions Cohesion
may then be calculated like any other interpolation. There
is also a more comprehensive formula, which seems to ex¬
press the depression in tubes of all sizes with great accu¬
racy; it is this, a = —  : and it might
D + 48 D3 492 26 D
even be possible to shorten the original calculation by a
comparison of the series with the expansion of this empi¬
rical formula, if it were of any farther importance to faci¬
litate the mode of computation. But for all practical pur¬
poses, it will be sufficient to collect the results already
obtained into a comparative table, arranged in chronolo¬
gical order ; and it is remarkable, that they are all com¬
prehended, without any material exception, between the
two values assigned to each as near the truth in Dr
Young’s first table, the mean of those values never differ¬
ing a thousandth of an inch from the result of the more
correct calculation ; while the error of Lord Charles Ca¬
vendish’s experiments, notwithstanding their general accu¬
racy, sometimes amounts to nearly one hundredth, (l.l.)
Table of the Depression of Mercury in Glass Tubes.
Diame
-ter.
Inches.
1-00
•90
•80
;70
•60
•50
•45
•40
•35
•30
•25
•20
•15
•10
•05
CENTRAL DEPRESSION.
Observed
by Ld Ca¬
vendish.
•005
•007
•015
•025
•036
•050
•067
•092
•140
Dr Young, Phil.
Trans. 1805.
Diagr.
•005
•007
•012
•017
•027
•038
•056
•085
•140
•008
•017
•024
•033
•044
•064
•088
•140
Laplace,
1806.
DrYoung,
1807.
0038
0136
•0045
•0074
•0100
•0139
•0196
•0280
•0404
•0589
•0880
•1424
•2964
Nicholson’s Journal,
1809.
r = -005
s — -750
00031
00060
00115
00220
00411
00799
01100
01516
02093
02902
04064
05800
08620
•14027
•29497
,•=•00.51
s = -7355
00032
00062
00118
00224
00416
00805
01106
01522
02098
02906
04067
05802
08621
14027
•29497
Laplace,
1810.
00128
00244
00462
00868
01174
01591
02165
02985
04117
•05798
•08538
•13940
Correct Calculation.
r = '005
* ■= '750
0003073
001147
004160
01503
•05776
•14004,
,■ = •005038
• = -729
000307
001144
04128
01486
•05696
■13726
Empirical
Formula.
•00031
00059
•00112
•00220
00421
•00799
•01099
01495
02082
•02881
■04025
■05771
•08568
•14002
•29502
Marginal
Depression.
Nich. 1839.
r = -005
* = -750
•0637
•0676
•0690
•0714
•0745
•0787
•0850
•0966
•1171
•1619
•3060
Differ¬
ence.
•0596
•0596
•0580
•0562
•0536
•0497
•0444
•0386
•0309
•0216
•0110
Diame¬
ter.
1-00
•90
•80
•70
•60
•50
•45
•40
•35
•30
•25
•20
•15
•10
•05
COHORN, Menno, Baron de, the Yauban of Hol¬
land, and the contemporary as well as rival of the cele¬
brated French engineer, was born at Leeuwarde, in Frise-
land, in 1641. His father, an officer of distinguished me¬
rit, early inspired him with a taste for military science ; and
having studied mathematics, in which he made great pro¬
ficiency, under his uncle Fullenius, professor at Franeker,
he entered the service with the rank of captain, at the age
of only sixteen. In 1673, he attracted notice at the siege
of Maestricht, and afterwards distinguished himself so
much in the bloody battles of Senef, Cassel, St Denis, and
Fleurus, that he was promoted to the rank of colonel. In
the campaign of 1675, he performed an important service
at the siege of Grave, by successfully employing the
means which he had invented for crossing the fosses of
fortified places, and thus carrying a bastion without a
counterscarp, the access to which was defended only by
the river Meuse; a service for which he received, on the
spot, the warmest commendations of Vauban. At a subse¬
quent period Cohorn ably applied his theory of fortifica¬
tion to the fortress of Coverden, the works of which he
directed; and when war broke out in 1689 between Hol¬
land and France, he distinguished himself by new exploits.
At the siege of Namur he was opposed to Vauban, and
at the head of his own regiment defended Fort William,
which he had himself constructed, in the most gallant and
determined manner; but he was at last compelled to yield
to superior force, and surrendered the work to his great
rival. He had his revenge, however, in 1695, when he
participated in the capture of the same place, which had
been fortified by himself, but which Boufflers was unable
to hold out against King William. The alternate taking
and retaking of Namur, under the direction respectively
of Vauban and Cohorn, is considered as illustrative of the
different styles or systems of these celebrated engineers;
Vauban employing no more artillery than was absolutely
necessary, using his influence to moderate the ardour of
the troops, whom he never permitted to advance except
under the cover of works, and placing his glory in the
most rigid economy of life; whilst Cohorn, on the other
hand, accumulating artillery of all kinds, and sacrificing
every thing to the desire of abridging the siege, by striking
the besieged with surprise and terror, was equally prodi¬
gal of means and of men. “ Vauban avait cerne, reserre,
coupe, morcele les assieges; Cohorn ne s’etait occupe que
de les accabler. C’etait la force substituee a I’industrie,
30 C O I C O I
Cohort ou plutot I’industrle employee a multiplier les moyens de
II destruction.” In 1702, Cdhorn, now appointed lieutenant-
Coimbe- general, published in Dutch his New Method of Fortifying
toor. places, Leewarde, folio ; a classical work, which, several
years afterwards, was translated into French under the title
of Nouvelle Fortification, tant pour un terrain has et humide
que sec et eleve. Hague, 1706, 1711, 1713, 8vo. In 1703
Cohorn conducted several sieges according to the system
above described, forced Bonn to capitulate in the space
of three days, and performed other important services.
But his active career was now approaching to a close,
for, on the 17th March 1704, he died of apoplexy, at the
Hague, whither he had gone, at the invitation of Marl¬
borough, to concert measures with that great commander
for opening the ensuing campaign. Bergen-op-Zoom,
which was fortified by Cohorn, is generally and justly
considered as his masterpiece, and was for many years
believed to be impregnable; but, to the surprise of all
Europe, it was taken by the French under Lowendahl in
1647, though not without suspicion of treachery on the
part of the garrison, which certainly made a very feeble
defence; and, in 1814, an attempt to carry it by a coup-
de-main, planned by the gallant Lord Lyndoch, had near¬
ly succeeded, and, in truth, misgave only by an extraordi¬
nary accumulation of adverse accidents, to which indeed
night attacks are all more or less exposed.
COHORT, in Roman Antiquity, the name of a part, di¬
vision, or regiment, of the Roman legion, comprehending
about 600 men. There were ten cohorts in a legion, the
first of which exceeded the others both in dignity and
in number of men. When the army was ranged in order
of battle, the first cohort occupied the right of the first
line, and the rest followed in their natural order; so that
the third stood in the centre of the first line of the legion,
and the fifth on the left, the second between the first and
third, and the fourth between the third and fifth; while
the five remaining cohorts formed a second line in their
natural order.
COIF, the badge of a sergeant of law, who is called ser¬
geant of the coif, from the lawn coif worn under the cap
when the grade of sergeant is conferred.
COILERE PETTAH, a town of Hindustan in the pro¬
vince of Tinnevelly, thirty-three miles south by west from
Madura. Long. 78. 3. E. Lat. 9. 25. N.
COILLE, a town of Hindustan, in the province of Ba-
har and district of Tyrhoot, sixty-seven miles north by
east from Patna. Long. 85. 41. E. Lat 26. 27. N.
COIMBETOOR, a small province in the south of Hin¬
dustan, situated between the 10th and 12th degrees of north
latitude. It is bounded on the south by Dindigul, on the
east by Salem and Kistnagherry, on the north by Mysore,
and on the west by the province of Malabar. This dis¬
trict is divided into North and South Coimbetoor. The
former is a highly cultivated and productive country, where
wells and reservoirs abound, and are rendered subservient
to the purposes of agriculture. Rice is the grain chiefly
cultivated; and the country also produces sugar, cotton,
tobacco, &c. To the east, the Ghauts rise to the height
of 1500 or 2000 feet above the level of the upper country,
which is better cultivated than in Mysore. The soil in
many places is very good; and the remains of many
hedges, and traces of cultivation, show not only that the
whole country was once cultivated, but that it was culti¬
vated in a manner much superior to that which is now
practised; but it has been greatly injured by the devasta¬
tions of war. When it was invaded by General Meadows,
cultivation came to a stand for two years ; and all the grain
in the country was indiscriminately swept away by the de¬
fending and invading armies. The inhabitants were driven
to the hills, where they subsisted on grain produced in
places inaccessible to the military; but numbers died from Coimbe.
misery and hunger, and great part of the lower country toor.
was in a state of desolation.
Near to the town of Coimbetoor the soil is in general
good, and tolerably clear of rocks and stones. The waste
fields do not appear to amount to more than a half of those
that are arable. There are few hedges, and still fewer trees;
but there is a good deal of rice ground watered by reser¬
voirs. All kinds of soil are also cultivated for gardens ; and
the value of the ground and the rent which it pays are
regulated by the depth of water which stands upon it. The
gardens produce betel and cocoa nut palms, also tobacco;
but throughout the whole province of Coimbetoor the wet
cultivation is little more than three per cent, of the total
cultivation. In South Coimbetoor the rice grounds along
the banks of the Amaravati are extensive, and fully culti¬
vated. Some earths are found in this province impreg¬
nated with muriatic salts, and others with nitrates. Much
of the well water has also a saline taste.
The rains are usually considered as more regular and
greater in quantity above the Ghauts than below; Dr
Buchanan, however, thinks that this is doubtful. The
westerly winds bring the heaviest rains, but the country
below the Ghauts enjoys a considerable portion of the rain
from the other monsoon, which prevents it from ever being
parched up by drought. From April till about the middle
of June the winds are moderate, with a short interval of ten
or fifteen days, when violent squalls come from the west¬
ward, with thunder and lightning, heavy showers, and hail.
In the succeeding two months, for about ten days there
are heavy showers, with fogs on the hills, and in the in¬
terval the heat is moderate, with cloudy weather. From
about the middle of August till December there are oc¬
casional heavy rains, and more temperate weather in the
summer than is usual in Hindustan; and in winter there
are sometimes showers, with heavy dewrs, a very cold air,
and south-easterly winds. The spring is generally dry,
with light breezes from the south, and moderate dews.
Fevers and fluxes are epidemic among the inhabitants from
about the middle of October.
Many sheep are bred in the country, of which there are
two kinds; the one short bodied, with a short small tail;
the other of a thinner make, with long ears and scanty
wool. Though small, they are of good quality, fattening
readily, and making most delicious meat. The pasture,
though it looks bare, seems to be more nutritious than
that on the banks of the Ganges. Here is also a breed
of goats; but they are very inferior to those which are
reared above the Ghauts. A good sheep costs only from
2s. lid. to 2s. 6d. The wild animals are nearly the same
as in other parts of India. In the hills there are many
black bears, which are harmless, living chiefly on white
ants, wild fruit, and the palmyra tree. They are dan¬
gerous when disturbed, and in this case often kill the in¬
truder, though they never devour him. They are very
strong, and not afraid to encounter the tiger.
The inhabitants of Coimbetoor have made little pro¬
gress in the arts of civil life, and are as far inferior to the
people of Mysore in intelligence and in mechanical know¬
ledge as these are to the natives of Madras and Calcutta.
The only manufacture is that of weaving.
The principal towns are Coimbetoor Errood, and Caroor.
At a place called Perura is a celebrated Hindu temple,
which is said to be 3000 years old. It is highly orna¬
mented with numerous figures, some of which are very
indecent. This temple, which is called Mail Chittumbra,
was excepted by Tippoo, with two other places, when he
issued an order for the destruction of the Brahmin tem¬
ples. Coimbetoor was first annexed to Mysore about the
year 1746. It was taken possession of by the British in
C O I
C O I
31
Coimbe- 1783, but was restored to Tippoo at the conclusion of the
toor war. It was again conquered by the British in 1790, and
II was taken final possession of by them in 1799. Since this
Cmn. period it has been governed by a European judge and col-
lector under the presidency of Madras.
Buchanan’s Journey through Mysore, Canard, and Ma¬
labar ; Fifth Report of the Select Committee on Indian Af¬
fairs ; Rennell’s Memoir of a Map of Hindustan, &c.
Coimbetoor, a town of Hindustan, and capital of the
province of the same name. This city suffered deeply,
along with the whole province, in the wars which took place
between the British and the Mysore sovereigns. Since
it fell into the hands of the English, the town has recover¬
ed considerably, and contains 2000 houses, which is con¬
siderably more than half the number it contained under
Hyder’s government. It has a mosque, built by Tippoo,
who sometimes made Coimbetoor the place of his resi¬
dence. It is defended by a citadel or small fort. It was
conquered by the Mysore family about the year 1645, and
the fort was then enlarged. One of Hyder’s deputies built
a house which is called by the natives a palace, but is no¬
thing better than an inconvenient pile of mud, and now
serves as a barrack for cavalry. The hereditary chief of
Coimbetoor is of the Vaylalar tribe. It was twice taken by
the British; first in 1783, and secondly in 1790. It was
afterwards besieged by the troops of the sultan, who, in an
attempt to storm it, were repulsed by a weak garrison ; but
it subsequently surrendered to Tippoo, who broke the ca¬
pitulation and imprisoned the garrison. It came perma¬
nently under the jurisdiction of the British in 1799. Long.
77. 6. E. Lat. 10. 5. N.
COIMBRA, a city of Portugal, in the province of Bey-
ra, containing 1500 inhabitants. The river Mondego passes
through it, and has a well-built bridge across it. After
traversing the province, it enters the sea at the port of
Buarcos. Coimbra is the see of a bishop, but is principally
celebrated for the university w'hich is established there.
This institution, the only one of the kind in the kingdom,
is richly endowed, having an annual rental of two millions
of reals. Besides professors of divinity and other studies
connected with theology, it has teachers of law, mathe¬
matics, and the classics. It has a botanic garden, a chemical
laboratory, cabinets of physics and natural history, an as¬
tronomical observatory, a printing office, and a copious li¬
brary, open for the improvement of the students. What¬
ever may be the mode of communicating knowledge, few
institutions in Europe excel this in the liberal application
of wealth to that purpose. It is the capital of the pro¬
vince in which it stands, and is in longitude 7. 53. 37. W.
and latitude 40. 12. 30. N.
COIN, a piece of metal converted into money by the
impression thereon of certain marks or figures. Coin dif¬
fers from Money as the species from the genus.
Ancient Coins are those chiefly which were current
among the Jews, Greeks, and Romans. Their values and
proportions are as follow :
JEWISH.
Gerah 
10 Becah.
20
1200
60000
120
6000
Shekel.
50
jManeh.
Mina Hebraica j
3000|60|Talent  
Solidus aureus, or sextula, worth.
Siculus aureus, worth 
A talent of gold, worth 
£ s. d.
 0 0 Wo
 0 ° m
 0 0 2|
 5 14 Of
..342 3 9
 0 12 0i
 1 16 6
,5475 0 0
GRECIAN.
Lepton 0
Chalcus ....0
Dichalcus   0
Hemiobolum 0
14
28
56
112
224
336
662
1324
32
48
96
112
1660 384
4
8
16
_24
~48
96
120
Obolus 0
Diobolum 0
Teti'obolum 0
Drachma 0
Didrachmon.
Tetrardstat....2
l^|Pentrad....3
Coin.
d. qrs.
0 0|i-
0 W
0 W
u
5 Of
Of these, the drachma, didrachma, &c. were of silver; the
rest for the most part of brass. The other parts, as tri¬
drachm, tribolus, &c. were sometimes coined. The drach¬
ma is here, according to the generality of authors, suppos¬
ed to be equal to the denarius, though there is reason to
believe that the drachma was somewhat heavier. See
Drachma and Denarius.
£ s. d.
The Grecian gold coin was the stater aureus,
weighing two Attic drachms, or half of the
stater argenteus, and exchanging usually for
twenty-five Attic drachms of silver in our
money 0 16 If
According to our proportion of gold to silver 1 0 9
There were likewise the stater Cyzicenus, ex¬
changing for twenty-eight Attic drachms, or 0 18 1
Stater Philippicus and stater Alexandrinus, of
the same value.
Stater Daricus, according to Josephus, worth
fifty Attic drachms, or 1 12 3£
Stater Croesius of the same value.
roman.
Semilibella 0 0
Libellal
Teruncius.
J2
4
Tu
20
40
s. d.
.0 0
/
,0 0
Sestertius 0 1
Quinarius 1
Victoriatus f 
.0 3
2| Denarius 0 7
qrs.
3
Of these, the denarius, victoriatus, sestertius, and some¬
times the as, were of silver, and the rest of brass. See
As, &c. There were sometimes also coined of brass the
triens, sextans, uncia, sextula, and dupondius.
£ s. d.
The Roman gold coin was the aureus, which
weighed generally double the denarius; the
value of which, according to the first propor¬
tion of coinage mentioned by Pliny, was 1 4 3f
According to the proportion that obtains now
amongst us, worth 1 0 9
According to the decuple proportion, mentioned
by Livy and Julius Pollux, worth 0 12 11
According to the proportion mentioned by Ta¬
citus, and which afterwards obtained, whereby
the aureus exchanged for twenty-five denarii,
its value 0 16 I f
Modern Coins will be treated of under the article Mo¬
ney.
32
COINAGE.
Coinage. Under this head it will be proper to give a brief ac-
count of the constitution of the royal mint, as well as of
the different processes which come under the general term
Coinage ; for all these processes are conducted under va¬
rious checks emanating from the constitution which the
legislature has thought proper to give to this royal esta¬
blishment.
The royal mint attained its constitution of superior of¬
ficers in the eighteenth year of the reign of Edward II.,
and, with very few alterations, continued as then establish¬
ed till the year 1815. Of the alterations in this latter
year we shall have occasion to speak hereafter.
Ancient Edward appointed a master, warden, and comptroller,
establish- king’s and master’s assay-master, and king’s clerk, besides
ment of several inferior officers, whose duties will be mentioned
the mint. hereafter. Previous to this period we have very little in¬
formation as to the system of coinage pursued at the va¬
rious mints which the kings of England had throughout
their dominions. The Reverend Roger Rudding, in his
valuable and laborious Annals of the Coinage of Britain
and its Dependencies, gives it as his opinion that the mo-
neyers were in very early ages the only officers employed
in the fabrication of the money. On the early Anglo-
Saxon coins are found, besides the names of the monarchs,
those of other persons, who are with great probability
conjectured to have been the moneyers, because on the
later Anglo-Saxon money the names of those officers fre¬
quently occur, with the addition of their title of office.
From the circumstance of their names being inscribed on
the coins, it is reasonable to conclude that they were re¬
sponsible for the integrity of the money, and that likewise
they were the principal officers of the mint, because infe¬
rior officers would have given security to their superiors,
whose names would have appeared on the money, as a
pledge to the sovereign that it was duly executed. The
silence also of the Anglo-Saxon laws, and of Doomsday
Book, as to other officers of the mint, whilst they so fre¬
quently mention the moneyers, greatly corroborates the
opinion that they were the only persons employed in the
Anglo-Saxon and early Anglo-Norman mints, except, per¬
haps, occasional labourers; and it is observable, that when
in the reign of Henry I. the money was so much corrupt¬
ed as to call for a sentence of the most exemplary seve¬
rity on the offenders, the punishment is said to have been
inflicted upon moneyers only, without the least notice of
any other officer. This was also the case upon a similar
occasion in the reign of Henry II.
Mr Rudding is unable to determine the exact period
when it became necessary to place some permanent su¬
perintending authority in the mint to prevent the bad
practices of the moneyers; but it is probable, he says,
that such an officer was appointed between the twenty-
sixth of Henry II., when the moneyers alone were punish¬
ed for the adulteration of the money, and the third of Ri¬
chard I., when Henry de Cornhill accounted for the pro¬
fits of the cambium of all England, except Winchester.
It is not improbable that this first warden of the mint
was appointed for the purpose of collecting the revenue
arising from the seignorage charged upon coinage of
bullion.
The object of the warden’s appointment might also ex¬
tend to the inspection of the fabrication of the money,
with a view to prevent the master and his moneyers, or
the moneyers alone, from taking any undue advantage of
the king or the public by the adulteration of the coin.
The most important officer, however, upon the establish- Coinage,
ment of the mint, with a view to the maintenance of the
standard purity of the coin, is the king’s assay-master;
and there are persons mentioned as holding this office in
the sixth of Henry III. As this officer had the assaying
of all the bullion after melting for coinage, and after it
was coined, it is obvious that the very existence of the
credit and honour of the mint and sovereign depended
upon the duties he had to perform; and such an officer
probably existed from the earliest period of the fabrica¬
tion of money, though our records do not accurately de¬
fine the precise date of his appointment.
The next officer of importance in the mint is the comp¬
troller ; and the first whom Mr Rudding’s researches have
discovered held the office between the 5th and 15th of
Edward II. His duty, distinct from that of the other
officers of the mint, is to make out annually a roll, called
usually the comptrol or comptrolment roll, containing an
account of all the gold and silver coined, and to deliver it
on oath before one of the barons of the exchequer. It is
always written upon parchment, and forms a permanent
record of the coinages of the mint.
The king’s clerk and clerk of the papers is the next
check-officer upon the establishment; as king’s clerk, he
acts as a check upon the whole process of the coinage, the
same as the warden and comptroller; as clerk of the pa¬
pers, he keeps a book of record of the transactions of the
mint. Of the creation of this office we have not been able
to find any record.
These are the principal check-officers of the mint, and
no doubt were appointed as mutual checks upon each
other’s integrity, and to watch over the interests of the
king and other importers of bullion into the mint.
There is another officer upon the establishment, whose
duties are important, but of whose origin and appointment
we have not been able to find any notice. His title is the
master’s assay-master, and his duty consists in assaying
every ingot of gold and silver brought to the mint for
coinage; and upon his integrity the master and worker
relies that no bullion shall be received into the office for
coinage but what is conformable to the standard of the
realm.
Mr Rudding remarks (vol. iii. p. 1), that at a very early
period of the history of Britain, when the communication
between its different parts was extremely imperfect, it be¬
came necessary to establish mints and exchanges, not only
in the chief city, but also in various other places, for the
purpose of supplying the neighbouring districts with money
to carry on their commerce. To this necessity alone such
establishments are to be ascribed; and accordingly we
find, that by degrees, as the communication opened, the
subordinate mints and exchanges sunk into disuse, and
one fixed in the metropolis was found to be amply suffi¬
cient for the supply of the whole kingdom.
Athelstan appears to have been the first monarch who
enacted any regulations for the government of the mints.
In his laws, which were promulgated about the year 928,
he provided that one sort of coin only should be current
throughout the kingdom, and granted to various towns by
name a number of moneyers proportionate to their size
and consequence, and to all boroughs of inferior rank one
moneyer each.
These mints were under the control of that within the
Tower of London, from which, as paramount, the dies
were issued, and for which the moneyers paid a regular
COINAGE.
33
Coinage, fee upon every alteration of the coins. They also paid an
—annual rent, which, in the city of Lincoln, amounted to
L.75 (according to the statement of Doomsday Book), a
very considerable sum at that time. The rents of the
other mints were, however, much inferior to this.
To increase the facility of distributing the coins made
at these mints, exchanges were appointed in various places,
from whence new coins were issued, and in which bullion
was purchased for the supply of the mint; and it appears
that our monarchs claimed the exclusive privilege of pur¬
chasing bullion, and appointed proper officers, to whom
they delegated that branch of their prerogative.
It appears to have been the duty of these officers not
only to exchange the current coins of one metal for those
of another, but also to receive wrought plate and bullion,
and foreign coins, according to their fineness respective¬
ly; and as the exportation of the coins of the realm v/as
prohibited, they furnished persons going out of the king¬
dom with foreign coins in exchange for English, and also
supplied merchants and strangers coming into the king¬
dom with English coins in exchange for foreign. These
exchanges of coin were regulated by a table, which was
hung up in the exchanger’s office.
This office has ceased to exist since the reign of Charles
I. Henry earl 6f Holland v/as the last keeper of the ex¬
changes between England and Ireland.
Besides the officers mentioned, there was another of
great importance in early times, who bore the title of cu-
neator. Mr Rudding mentions this officer as being here¬
ditary, and, as far as he had discovered, the only one in
the mint that was so. The engravers of the dies seem to
have been appointed by him, and to have been under
his immediate cognizance. By him the}r were presented
to the barons of exchequer, before whom they took the
usual oath of office; and it was probably his duty to see
that all the dies (as well those which were used in the
paramount mint in the Tower of London, as those which
were issued from thence to the subordinate mints) were
of the same type. This was no doubt a circumstance of
great moment, when so many mints were allowed to be
worked in various parts of the kingdom. When these
mints were abolished, and the mint in the Tower became
the only source from whence coins were derived, the office
sunk into disuse. B}' right of office this officer claimed
the old and broken dies as his fee. An officer of a simi¬
lar kind exists in the mint at this day, who is called clerk
ot the irons, whose duty it is to superintend the manufac¬
ture of the dies for coinage; but he has no power to ap¬
point the engravers of the dies.
In the early history of the mint, as at present, the mas¬
ter of the mint fabricated the coins at certain charges per
pound weight. He had his regular establishment of melt-
ers and moneyers, to whom he paid certain rates for melt¬
ing and making the monies, reserving for himself a certain
fee lor his trouble and responsibility. For in all his en¬
gagements with the crown the master had to bear all
waste and charges arising in and out of the coinage of
gold and silver. Mr Rudding mentions, that in the tenth
of Edward III. the workmen of the mint of London peti¬
tioned the king for an increase of their allowance for coin¬
age, alleging that they were at that time at greater ex¬
pense, and bestowed more labour in forming the monies,
than had been usual in former times, so that they could
not maintain and continue such expense and labour un¬
less their allowance was increased.
The king being willing to grant their petition if just,
commanded John de Wyndesore, warden of the mints of
London and Canterbury, together with Lapone Roger,
and others experienced in such matters, to inquire whe¬
ther the allowance was sufficient, and if not, to deter-
VOL. VII.
mine what addition should be made; and they were or- Coinage,
dered to make their report in chancery, under their seals,
without delay.
A warrant was in consequence issued, and Lapone and
Roger Rikeman, exchangers of London, and Stephen Boke,
having been examined on oath by the warden, the follow¬
ing report was made:—That having inquired diligently
respecting the necessary expenses of the master of the
mint and the workmen, namely, of alloy, clay, and salt, and
other things used in the making of new money, and also
of the expenses occasioned by the waste arising from the
whitening of the halfpennies and farthings, on account of
the increase of the alloy, and from the hardening of the
metal of the said coins in working and coining, they were
of opinion that the work could not be carried on without
an increase of 3d. for each pound at the least; and with
that the workmen ought reasonably to be contented. And
whereas of old they received for all costs, colour, &c.
for a pound of halfpennies 7^d., and for a pound of far¬
things 9jLd., that they should receive for the former lO^d.,
and for the latter 12|d., so that the master should have of
increase 2d., and the workmen Id.
It was the duty of the warden to take an account of all
the bullion of gold and silver intrusted to the master and
worker of the mint to be coined ; and in this duty he was
aided by the comptroller and king’s clerk, who, in their
respective capacities, kept books of entries of the receipt
of bullion, and its delivery in coin to those who brought
the bullion for that purpose. Besides these duties, the
check-officers just named had the superintendence of the
different processes through which the bullion had to pass,
from the assay of the ingot to the delivery of the coin to
the importers ; and it is more than probable, that, in the in¬
fancy of the mint, when the demand for coin was very li¬
mited, the whole processes of the coinage were conducted
in one apartment, and that the master, warden, comptroller,
and other principal officers of the mint, accompanied the
sovereign from place to place in his dominions, and actu¬
ally superintended the fabrication of the coin at the mints
of the towns where he sojourned. The progressive civi¬
lization of the country, the increasing demand for money,
and the more permanent residence of the monarchs in
London, give the mint of the Tower a predominance over
all others; and these circumstances very probably called
for the appointment of other check-officers, who are now
upon the mint establishment, such as the surveyor of the
meltings, whose duties are to superintend the melting of
the pots of gold and silver, and to weigh the proportion of
fine gold or alloy which may be necessary to produce the
standard of the money; to take samples of all pots melted,
and carry them to the king’s assay-master, for him to as¬
certain if the standard has been adhered to by the melter;
and to lock up the said pots, of which samples have been
taken, in the melter’s stronghold, of which he has one
key and the melter another, and there to retain them un¬
til the king’s assay-master has declared that they are of
the proper standard. In the infancy of the mint the du¬
ties of this officer were probably performed in the presence
of the warden, comptroller, and king’s clerk; but the in¬
crease of duties in the mint-office, in the receipt of bul¬
lion and delivering of coin, probably rendered it necessary
to relieve the principal officers from these duties, as well
as from those of another officer called the surveyor of the
money-presses, whose duties consist in seeing that good
dies are used, and clean money made in the coining room.
When these and other officers were in full power, ope¬
rating as checks upon the coinage, and consequently upon
the master and worker, they received their salary and
fees from the warden, as chief of the check branch of the
establishment.
34
COINAGE.
Coinage. The expenditure for the repairs of buildings, officers’
houses, &c. was also paid by the warden of the mint;
and his authority for doing so was by the mint indenture,
in which these duties are detailed. “ And our said so¬
vereign lord the king doth will and command that the
warden or wardens of the mint, for the time being, shall
content and pay to the officers and ministers aforesaid,
such stipends and wages, and such diet, as in schedule
limited and appointed, in manner and form, and during
such term as in the same expressed; and that thereof he
and they shall have due allowance and defalcation upon
his or their accounts. And that the said warden or war¬
dens shall make his or their accounts yearly, as well of
all and every of his or their receipts, as of his or their
payments, and other charges, before the auditors of the
mint for the time being, unless it shall please his majesty
otherwise to appoint the same ; in which account the same
auditors, or others to be appointed by his said majesty to
take the said accounts, shall make unto the said warden
or wardens full allowance, defalcation, and discharge, as
well for all such sum and sums of money as he or they
shall duly prove to have been paid or disbursed for of¬
ficers’ fees and wages, and diet for the said officers, as for
any other necessary charges to be employed in and about
the making of the said monies, or the repairing of the
said offices and houses necessarily to be employed in the
said service, under the avouchment of the said master and
comptroller and assay-master, or any two of them, where¬
of the said master is to be one; and the said accounts so
to be made by the said auditors, or by any other of his
majesty’s special appointment for the same, being stated,
and his debts determined, and his said accounts fully an¬
swered to his majesty, the said warden or wardens, upon
his or their suit to the lord chancellor, or lord keeper of
the great seal, or commissioners of the great seal, shall
have letters patent of his said majesty under the great
seal, to be made on his or their acquittance, without fee
therefor paying; for the making of which said letters pa¬
tent these presents shall be a sufficient warrant and dis¬
charge to the said lord chancellor, or lord keeper, or lords
commissioners for the custody of the great seal, for the
time being, without any further or special warrant to be
sued out for the same.”
Notwithstanding the number of the checks upon the coin¬
age of our money, its history gives us the most undenia¬
ble proofs of their inefficiency, when the arbitrary will of
the sovereign was allowed to set all law and justice aside.
However much we may admire the precautions used by
our ancestors in the formation of the constitution of the
mint, we have still the painful recollection, though its
forms and regulations have existed since the reign of Ed¬
ward III., that they could not prevent a Henry VIII.
from disgracing his reign by perhaps the most wanton
debasement of the currency that was ever, in a similar
period of time, practised in any country in the world.
The same ignorance and injustice disgraced the beginning
of the reign of his son Edward VI.; but the subsequent
acts, even of his short reign, were a good apology for the
impolicy of his measures, and the severest censure upon
the injustice of his father’s acts regarding the currency.
The short reign of Edward VI. prevented that thorough
reformation in the currency which the wisdom of his mea¬
sures began, and which was perfected in the long and glo¬
rious reign of his successor Elizabeth.
Expenses In the early history of our coinage, its expenses were
of the coin-paid by a duty or seignorage upon the money coined; and
age in early besides these expenses, a certain duty was retained for
times.
the sovereign, and formed one of the sources of his reve- Coinage,
nue. The amount of this duty was regulated entirely by
the will of the sovereign, and without any regard to the
principle by which it was assessed; it varied in different
reigns, and was probably in a great measure regulated by
the necessities of the sovereign for the time being. The
mere charge of coinage, as Mr Rudding justly remarks, is
probably as ancient as the invention of coined money; be¬
cause it would soon be discovered that the sovereign, after
having turned his bullion into coins, for the benefit of his
subjects, was no richer than before. It is probable, how¬
ever, that the deduction did not remain long at the simple
expense of coinage, but was soon made a profitable and
easily collected source of revenue. In fact, the preroga¬
tive of coinage being exclusively the sovereign’s, made it
a certain source of revenue. In the earliest mint account
which Mr Rudding has met with, namely, one of the Oth
of Henry III., the profit upon the coinage was 6d. in the
pound. This appears, says Mr Rudding, from the entries
under that year of bullion coined in the mint at Canter¬
bury, when the profit upon L.3898.4d. is stated to have been
L.97. 9s., which is exactly 6d. in the pound. Of that sum
the king had L.60. 18s. 3^d., and the archbishop L.36. 10s.
lO^d.1; and the whole sum of L.97. 9s. is stated to be the
amount of exitus lucri, that is, we presume, the clear profit,
after all the expenses were deducted. And this agrees with
the seignorage which was taken in the 28th year of Edward
I., amounting to Is. 27]-d. upon every pound, out of which
the master had 5^d. for all expenses, and there remained
9d. clear profit to the king. But as this latter date is
about seventy-eight years subsequent to the former, it is
not improbable that the seignorage had been raised in
that time in the proportion of nine to six.
A seignorage continued to be charged upon the coinage Itegula- !
of both gold and silver until the reign of Charles II., who, tions intro
after his restoration, took the expenses of the coinage ofcluce(l V
the money of the Commonwealth upon himself. Charles III
In September 1661, in the 13th year of his reign, a pro¬
clamation was issued, declaring that the gold and silver
coined during the period of the Commonwealth should
not be current after the last day of November in the same
year. At the same time it declared, “ that such of our
subjects in whose hands these moneys shall be found after
the last day of November next ensuing, may not suffer too
great damage or prejudice thereby, we are pleased further
to declare, that all and every person and persons who
shall bring any gold or silver coyn of the stamps and in¬
scriptions aforesaid into our mint in the Tower of London,
shall there receive the like quantity of lawful and current
moneys, weight for weight, allowing only for the coinage.”
On the 7th day of December in the same year, another
proclamation was issued, declaring the money of the Com¬
monwealth current only in payment of taxes, &c. to his
majesty, and to continue so till the 1st day of May next
ensuing. The object of this proclamation was to bring as
much of this money into his majesty’s exchequer as pos¬
sible for the purpose of recoining it. It is in this procla¬
mation that the king takes the expense of coinage upon
himself: “ We being willing,” he says, “ for the ease of
our subjects, to take the charge of the coinage thereof
upon ourself.”
It was in these proclamations that the system began of
charging the government with the expenses of the coin¬
age of this country. The merchants and others, who
were interested in saving both the duty and the expense
of coinage, took advantage of the last-mentioned procla¬
mation, and, by memorials, represented to the king and
1 These totals do not precisely agree, as is frequently the case when sums are stated in Roman numerals.
C O I N A G E.
35
Coinage, his council the great advantage which trade and the coun-
try at large would derive from the sovereign taking upon
himself, as a permanent charge, the expense of coinage;
they also represented that a great increase would take
place in the quantity of money, if coined free of any charge
to the importers of bullion. As these representations
were irreconcilable with the just principles of public
wealth, and as they were brought forward by persons ig¬
norant of the consequences which would attend their exe¬
cution, we doubt much whether they produced the effect
which interested individuals were so desirous of obtain¬
ing. In the 18th year of the same reign an act was pass¬
ed, exempting in future the importers of bullion from all
charge of coinage, and this act has continued in force till
the present day.
As the science of political economy was very little un¬
derstood in the period here meritioned, it is not to be won¬
dered at that the voices of a few interested individuals
could procure the passing of an act so plausible. There can
be no doubt but Charles and his council were swayed by
the apparent knowledge which those individuals evinced
of the practical details of business, and trusted to their
representations being correct; but a practical knowledge
of business, founded upon mistaken principles, must lead
to erroneous conclusions; and it is easy to prove that
Charles and his council were imposed upon by these prac¬
tical men.
This country would at least have been equally rich,
and the quantity of coined money in no degree diminish¬
ed, if the charge of workmanship had been continued upon
the coinage; for the quantity of money in a country that
possesses no mines of its own must be regulated by the pro¬
duce of its land and labour, or, in other words, the quantity
of exchangeable commodities; and as the quantity of ex¬
changeable commodities increased, so would the quantity of
money be increased, except in as far as good husbandry,
or increased value of the precious metals, could make it be
spared to circulate them. As the charge of coinage could
have no effect in diminishing the quantity of the precious
metals that would be imported into the country, the por¬
tion of this bullion that would be brought to be coined
would depend upon the demand for coin ; and this de¬
mand would regulate the profits which the individuals
who did coin could make by it, either in trading with it
themselves, or by lending it to others.
If there were a charge for coinage, there would, strict¬
ly speaking, be a less quantity of bullion imported, be¬
cause we should have a less quantity of money than we
now have; but that money would be more valuable. A
guinea, or 5 dwts. grs., would be more valuable than 5
dwts. grs. of gold bullion; and consequently fewer of
them would be requisite for the circulation of the same
amount of commodities. The effect would, therefore, be
to increase the quantity of commodities, and to lessen the
quantity of bullion or coin.
luestion The policy of Charles’s measures with respect to the
9 to the coinage has been questioned by various writers. And,
lects ot a in fact? the principle of a seignorage, so often agitated, has
ignorage. never jjggn satisfactorily settled. Lord Liverpool, in his
excellent Letter to the King upon the Coins of the Realm,
conceives that a seignorage upon our gold coin, which is the
standard money of our country, would necessarily cause
that measure of property to be imperfect. His lordship
has not favoured us with any account of the nature of the
imperfection that would have been created by charging a
seignorage upon our gold coin. The only imperfection that
could be called into existence, we apprehend, by charging
the expense of coinage upon gold, would be the alteration
which it would make in its value. L.100 of gold coin,
chargeable with an expense of coinage (say of 1^ per
cent.), would, v/hile the king preserved the monopoly of Coinage,
coinage, be more valuable than its weight of uncoined ^-y-***
gold, and consequently would alter the state of debtor
and creditor, as well as require the government to pay her
annuitants, and other branches of her expenditure, in a
currency more valuable than before the charge of seignor¬
age was imposed.
Let us, for example, suppose that we had only coins of
gold in this country, and that a seignorage to the amount
of the expenses incurred in their manufacture was im¬
posed by the legislature, say of 17] per cent.; it must be
evident that L.100 of such coins would be more valuable
than their weight in bullion of the same purity, by the ex¬
pense of the coinage. Every L.100 of such gold currency,
therefore, would purchase not only its weight of bullion,
but per cent, more, as the expense of converting such
bullion into coin. As no legal coin can be obtained but
where this charge is made, the market price of gold would
thus be per cent, under its mint price. If the seignor¬
age exceeded the expenses of the coinage, so as to afford
a profit to the illegal coiner, supposing him to coin money
of the legal standard in weight and fineness, then would
the value of the currency be reduced by such illegal addi¬
tions to its quantity; the market price of bullion would
approach to its mint price, but would fall short of it by
the real expenses of the coinage, and would thus destroy
the profits of the illegal coiner. It will also follow, that
L.100 of such currency would purchase a greater quantity
of any commodity than its weight of bullion of the same
purity would do, and that by the expenses of the coinage,
or 11 per cent. By the imposition of a seignorage, there¬
fore, the price of bullion and commodities would expe¬
rience a fall, limited, however, by the real expenses of the
coinage, no laws having yet been devised to prevent ille¬
gal additions to the currency. We should not, however,
apprehend that the coins fabricated under this system
would in any degree be imperfect; on the contrary, we
think that a considerable national advantage might have
been the result, had such a principle been adopted at the
British mint. As the value of the coins would be increas¬
ed, so would their quantity have been diminished. A
smaller amount of currency would have circulated the
same quantity of commodities ; and the gold thus relieved
from the channel of circulation would, in the hands of in¬
dividuals, have become capital, the nation deriving all the
advantages of its reproduction, with a profit.
The second objection of Lord Liverpool, if well founded,
would certainly render it impolitic in the legislature to
enact a seignorage upon the coins constituting the princi¬
pal measure of property, either as a present or primary
principle in the government of the mint. “ The merchants
of foreign nations who may have any commercial inter¬
course with this country estimate the value of our coins
only according to the intrinsic value of the metal that is
in them; so that the British merchant would, in such
case, be forced to pay, in his exchanges, a compensation
for any defect which might be in these coins; and he
must necessarily either raise the price of all merchandise
and manufactures sold to foreign nations in proportion, or
submit to this loss.”
If the imposition of a seignorage had no effect in aug¬
menting the value of the coins, Lord Liverpool’s objection
would be correct; but we have already stated that the
coins acquire a value proportionate to the expense of the
coinage, which is the natural limit of a seignorage, where
the laws cannot prevent illegal additions to the amount of
the currency. If so, the relation between the foreign and
British merchant would in no degree be changed; they
would continue to buy and sell, with the same advantages as
before the seignorage was imposed. There would, it is true,
36 C O I N A G E.
Coinage, be some differences in price, but not sufficient to affect the All the advantages of a seignorage may be obtained, with- Coinage.
'w-y-w relative interests of the parties. For example, if a seignor- out such seignorage being deducted from the weight of
age of 1A per cent, were imposed upon the currency of the coins.
England, while that of Hamburgh remained without al- From the arguments we have adduced, we. should be
teration, it must be evident, from what has already been justified, we apprehend, in approving of the principle of a
stated, that a fall in the price of British commodities seignorage, even upon the coins vvhich constitute the prin-
would take place in consequence. But this fall in prices cipal measure of property, provided it did not exceed the
would not be confined to British commodities alone ; the mere expense of the coinage of such coins ; for where a
foreign commodities brought to the English market would seignorage is charged, there.is a.tendency, as w.e Lave al-
necessarily undergo the same reduction ; yet the foreign ready noticed, to a fluctuation in the value of that cui-
merchant would not be subject to any loss in consequence rency ; an evil which should be avoided as much as pos-
of this fall in the price of his commodities, for the reduc- sible. Where an extensive paper currency is used, as in
tion in the price of English goods would enable him to England, this evil is considerably increased, even though
buy as much cheaper as would compensate for the dimi- the issuers of it aie liable to pay it in specie on the dc-
nution in the price of his foreign wares; neither would mand of the holders ; still, both their notes and the coin
the British merchant be subject to any loss by the fall in might be depreciated to the fulf extent of the seignorage,
prices, since he would be enabled to buy foreign commodi- before the check wdiich limits the circulation of paper
ties so much cheaper as to compensate for the reduction could operate. If the seignorage on our gold coin were 5
in the price of English commodities. per cent., for example, the currency, by an abundant issue
The exchanges with foreign nations would be regulated of bank notes, might be really depreciated 5 per cent, be-
by the same principle. A merchant in London, for exam- foie it would be the interest of the holders to demand com
pie, wanting to remit L.100 to his correspondent in Ham- for the purpose of melting it into bullion, the legal check
buro-h, to discharge a debt which he owed there, would, to restore it to its proper value. If the seignorage amount-
wfith his L.100 of English currency, augmented 1£ per ed only to the mere expense of coinage, which is about
cent, in value by a seignorage, buy upon the London Ex- 10s. per cent., that would be the whole fluctuation in the
chano-e a bill upon Hamburgh, entitling him to a quantity value of our legal currency, even though bank notes, pay-
of Hamburgh currency, equal in value to L.101. 10s.; and able on demand, formed the most considerable portion
thus would bills upon Hamburgh be said in the London of the circulating medium.
market to be at a discount of H per cent. But England When Charles II. annulled the law for charging a seig-
would not gain by this discount upon Hamburgh bills ; for, norage upon our coins, he must have caused that altera-
let us suppose that a merchant in Hamburgh wished to dis- tion in the value of property which we here state as the
charge a debt in London of L.100, all bills on London, sold reason why we cannot recur to it again, consistently with
in Hamburgh, would, upon the same principle, be sold at a our national honour. And a late act respecting coinage,,
premium equal to the increased value of the currency in which allows a seignorage to be charged upon silver of
England, to which these bills entitled the holders of them. 4d. per ounce, but which directs that no charge whatever
As a nation cannot permanently import to a greater shall be made on gold, it being the standard of property,
amount than it exports, so the holders of bills in London is therefore a wise measure, as it preserves the integrity
upon Hamburgh could not permanently exceed the hold- of that standard which has existed for upwards of a cen-
ers of the bills in Hamburgh upon London; so that the tury, and by which the value of all property has been re¬
discount on Hamburgh bills in the one case, and the pre- gulated.
mium on London bills in the other, would necessarily ba- If a seignorage, therefore, is ever charged, it should be
lance each other ; and hence, if we are correct in our ar- from the first introduction of coined money in a state, and
<mment, neither party would lose or gain, as far as related ought never to fluctuate in amount, as was anciently the
to the exchange, by the imposition of a seignorage upon the case in this country ; because such fluctuations must cause
British currency. as frequent fluctuations in the value of property, an evil
The third objection of Lord Liverpool to a seignorage which cannot be too carefully avoided,
upon the gold currency of England is, “ that no such The next important event in the history of the mint improve-
charge of fabrication has taken place at the British mint was the introduction of the mill and screw, which tookmentsin
for nearly a century and a half past; and, if it were now place soon after the restoration of Charles II. Previously the ma-
to be taken, the weight of the new gold coins must be di- to his reign, the money in circulation was made by forS*
minished to pay for this fabrication.” ing or hammering slips of gold and silver to the proper
It does not necessarily follow that a charge for the fa- degree of thickness, then cutting a square from the slip, Charles II.
brication of our gold coins should diminish their weight to which was afterwards rounded and adjusted to the weight
pay for such fabrication. If the expense of coining L.100 of the money to be made ; after which the blank pieces of
of gold currency at the royal mint was L.l. 10s., the in- money were placed between two dies containing the design
dividual bringing the bullion to the mint, having this of the coin, and the upper one was struck with a hammer,
charge to defray, would not sell his L.100 in coin for its This money was necessarily imperfect, from the difficulty
weight in bullion ; the value of the coin being augmented of placing the two dies exactly over each other when the
by the value of the workmanship, he would readily com- blank piece was between them, as well as from the impro-
mand a quantity of gold bullion more than its weight by bability of a man being able to strike a blow with such
the expense of the coinage, or L| per cent., as has been force as to make all parts of the impression equally perfect,
already stated. This mode would render any change in The mill or press was first introduced from France into
the weight of the coin unnecessary. this country in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, but after a
Lord Liverpool’s last objection is, “ that these new gold few j^ears’ use was abandoned, as too expensive, and the
coins would either differ in weight from those now in cur- hammer coinage resumed.
rency, or, to prevent this evil, the whole of our present The coining press or mill is of French origin, and is
gold coins must be taken out of circulation, brought to the generally ascribed to Antoine Brucher, an engraver, who,
mint, and be recoined.” in 1553,first tried it in the French king’s (Henry II.’s)palace
If we are correct in our answer to his lordship’s third at Paris, for the coining of counters. It continued in use
objection, the last one must necessarily fall to the ground, till 1585, in the reign of Henry III., when it was laid aside,
COINAGE. 37
I „inage. on account also of its being more expensive than the ham-
mer coinage. The machine remained in disuse until 1623,
when Briot, a French artist, who was unable to persuade
the French government to adopt it again, came to Eng¬
land, where it was immediately put in practice under the
direction of Briot, who was appointed chief engraver of the
mint.
Like many other new inventions, it was sometimes used,
then laid aside, and the hammer resumed, for about forty
years. In the year 1662, the mill and screw was completely
established in the English mint, as it had been by the French
in the year 1645. The great improvement which took
place in the form and impression of the coins struck by
this new invention gave them a decided superiority over
the hammer money ; and the excellent and truly philoso¬
phical improvements of the late Mr Boulton, which we
shall hereafter describe, have placed the process of coin¬
ing upon a basis so firm, and so decidedly superior, both
in facility and economy, that we have no fear of return¬
ing to the ancient and less perfect mode of fabricating our
money.
jjroinage The next important feature in the history of our mint
ciulver in Was the extensive silver recoinage of King William, which
uig Wil-amounted to upwards of L.7,000,000 sterling. It was exe-
cuted at several country mints besides the mint in the
Tower of London. The principle upon which this recoin¬
age was executed was a subject of great controversy, and
occupied the talents of Mr Locke, Mr Lowndes, and others.
Mr Lowndes wished to execute the coinage at a rate per
ounce conformable to the market price of silver; overlooking,
at the same time, that the market price exceeding its mint
price, this arose from the deficiency in the weight of those
coins by which silver, as well as all other commodities,
Cltro- was bought and sold. Mr Locke, with that acuteness for
viy o'ca-which he was so justly esteemed, contended that, if 5s.
snied by 2d. of the coin weighed an ounce, that would necessarily be
■ recoin-the market price of silver ; and that its high price arose
from 6s. 4d. of the then currency containing no more than
an ounce of standard silver. Consequent^, if the coinage
was executed at a higher rate than the standard of the
46th of Elizabeth, or 5s. 2d. per ounce, it would be done at
the expense of that justice and integrity betw'een the go¬
vernment and the people, which no government would
sanction that regarded the rights of personal property. Mr
Locke’s arguments were so decidedly just, and so convin¬
cing, that the government carried the whole nation with
them in the measure, though it was heavity felt, owing to
the exhausted state of the country, after the long and ex¬
pensive war it had been involved in.
In the course of a little time after the recoinage w-as
completed, Mr Locke’s reasoning w’as called in question,
from the circumstance of the price of silver exceeding its
mint price, and the consequent disappearance of the coin¬
age, by melting the coins into ingots for sale at the high
market price. As this is an exceedingly curious and in¬
teresting portion of the history of our mint affairs, we may
be allow'ed to state a few facts by way of vindicating the
accuracy of Mr Locke’s theory, and to point out the real
cause why its application to practice failed, as it is gene¬
rally acknowledged that it did ; the greater portion of the
silver recoinage having, before the year 1717, disappeared
from the circulation.
By an Abstract Account of the prices which the Bank of
England paid for gold and silver bullion in each year from
1697 to 1811, it appears that, as early as 1710, they paid
L.4 per ounce for standard gold, and 5s. 3d. for standard
silver ; and it is probable that the same price existed at a
more early date after the recoinage, though the accounts
state no price before 1710. This account we conceive to
be of very great importance, and we think it will satisfac¬
torily explain why Mr Locke’s theory did not permanently Coinage,
produce the effect which the legislature expected from it. —
By a reference to the prices paid for gold by the Bank
of England from 1710 to 1717, it appears that the average
price per ounce was L.3. 19s. Ild. During this period, the
guinea was current for 21s. 6d., at which rate the ounce
of gold was coined into L.3. 19s. 8|d.; for, if one guinea
or 5 dwts. 9||- grains be worth 21s. 6d., 480 grains or 1
ounce will be worth L.3. 19s. 8-|d. It would appear, then,
that the market price of gold was only 2|d. above its mint
price ; and some debasement by wear may have existed
upon the gold currency at this period, causing such excess
of the mint price.
While the mint, therefore, coined gold at the rate of
L.3. 19s. 8|d. per ounce, and silver at 5s. 2d., the relative
proportion was as 15-43 to 1. There is only one quotation
of silver given for the period in question, and it is 5s. 3d.
per ounce. If we take this as the average price for the seven
years in question (and we may be justified in doing so by
the market prices which follow in 1718 and subsequent
years, as extracted from Castaign’s Papers, and laid be¬
fore the House of Commons, and ordered to be printed
4th March 1811) at 5s. 3d. per ounce, the average propor¬
tion of gold and silver in the market would be 15-22 to 1.
But no individual would carry 15-22 ounces of silver to the
mint to be coined into about L.3. 18s. 7d. when these
15*22 of silver would procure an ounce of standard gold
in the market, which could be coined into L.3. 19s. 8fd.
making thereby a profit of about L.l. 7s. 6d. per cent.
While this profit continued, it may reasonably be inferred
that gold, and not silver, would be the standard of our
money.
It was in September 1717 that Sir Isaac Newton deli¬
vered his Report to the Lords of the Treasury, giving
it as his opinion that gold was considerably overrated in
the mint with respect to silver; and, in consequence of
this report, the guinea was, by proclamation dated 22d
December 1717, declared current at 21s. It is of impor¬
tance to observe the effect produced upon the price of
gold by this proclamation; and we are of opinion it will
completely prove, that the silver currency had not ope¬
rated as the standard of value during the period in ques¬
tion. When the guinea became a legal tender at 21s.,
the price of gold became fixed at L.3. 17s. lO^d. per ounce
at the mint; for, if 5 dwts. 9||-grs.be worth 21s., 480 grs.
or 1 ounce will be worth L.3. 17s. l0J-d. This fall in the
price of gold from L.3.19s. 8fd. is Is. 10£d. per ounce, and
is equal to about L.2. 6s. per cent. It appears by the ab¬
stract of prices paid for bullion by the Bank of England,
that in 1718 and subsequent years they paid L.3. 18s. per
ounce for standard gold, which is a fall from L.3. 19s. 8|d.
of Is. 8|d. per ounce ; and if an allowance is made for the
debasement by wear, existing at this period upon the gold
coin, the fall in the market price of gold will be equal to
the reduction in the value of the guinea. But this effect
could not have been produced, unless gold at the period
in question had been the measure of value, and, as such,
the measure of its own price.
From these facts we think the conclusion may be justi¬
fied, that from 1710, and probably a more early period after
the recomage, till the date of Sir Isaac Newton’s report,
the gold money of this country was the standard measure
of property; and that the reduction of the value of the
guinea, thereby making the relative proportion of gold
and silver approximate nearer to those of the market, was
the first step of which we have an authentic record, taken
by government to maintain the principles of Mr Locke's
theory; and as the avowed intention of this report was to
give that rise in value to the silver coin which would pro¬
tect it from the melting pot, and which could be done by
38
COINAGE.
Coinage, lowering that of gold, it may be inferred that the legis-
lature were aware that the gold coin had attained the
prerogative of being the standard of value at this time.
Though the recommendation in Sir Isaac Newton’s re¬
port was carried into effect by making the guinea current
at 21s., yet it did not restore silver to its function as the
standard of our money, and this because the current
value was not made still lower. Sir Isaac Newton seem¬
ed aware of this himself, and recommended that lOd. or
12d. should be taken from the guinea, instead of 6d. I his
however was not done ; and, as the rate of 21s. to the gui¬
nea, the proportion of standard gold to standard silver at
the mint, was as 15*07 to 1, the proportion of the market,
as we find by the prices of gold and silver at this period
in Castaign’s Papers, was about 14|d. to 1; which consti¬
tutes a difference of about three per cent., gold being still
thus much rated above its value to silver; and conse¬
quently, not only was no silver coined, but the good and
heavy coins were still melted for the high price they
brought in the state of bullion. It is surprising that the
government, having seen the operation of the principle
recommended in the report of Sir Isaac Newton, did not
carry it a little farther, and bring the current value of the
guinea to a par with the market proportion of the two
metals, and so render it the interest of the public to cany
silver to the mint to be coined.
Before concluding our observations upon this highly in¬
teresting subject, we must remark, that Mr Locke him¬
self did not impute the high price of silver, after the re¬
coinage, to the cause to which we have here ascribed it.
He attributed it to the permission to export silver bul¬
lion, and to the prohibition of exporting silver coin. This
permission, he said, rendered the demand for silver bul¬
lion greater than the demand for silver coin. Dr Adam
Smith remarks upon this opinion, that the number of peo¬
ple who want silver coin for the common uses of buying
and selling at home, is surely much greater than that of
those who want silver bullion, either for exportation or any
other purpose. There subsists at present a like permission
of exporting gold bullion, and a like prohibition oi export¬
ing gold coin; and yet the price of gold bullion has fallen
below the mint price. But in the English coin, silver was
then, in the same manner as now, underrated in proportion
to gold ; and the gold coin, which at that time was not sup¬
posed to require any reformation, regulated then, as well
as now, the real value of the whole coin.
No other legislative measure having been taken than that
which we have mentioned, founded upon the report of Sir
Isaac Newton, and the market proportion of gold to silver
having seldom rendered it the interest of the public to
coin silver, this accounts satisfactorily for the degiaded
state of our silver currency during the last century.
Itecoina^e In the year 1774 and subsequent years, we had a gene-
of gold in ral recoinage of our gold currency, which forms the next
177-i. prominent feature of our mint history. The avowed ob¬
ject of this recoinage was a reformation of the light and
defective coins then in circulation; and the motive for
doing so was to prevent the new and heavy coins from
being selected from the circulation, and melted for the
high price which the gold brought in the state of bullion.
In fact, L.4 of the gold coin then in circulation would not
weigh more than an ounce; and, by reference to the
prices paid by the bank for gold, we find that this was the
market price. The holders of bank notes demanding new
and heavy coins for them, required the bank to have a
large coinage of gold annually to supply this demand.
These coins were melted, and sold in the state of bullion
to the bank for the high price of L.4 per ounce. To re¬
medy this inconvenience, the recoinage was completed;
and it had the effect desired; for the price of gold, du¬
ring more than twenty years, never exceeded, but was Coinage,
rather under its mint price.
Political economists have disagreed as to the cause of
the high price of gold previously to the recoinage. Dr
Smith says, “ By issuing too great a quantity of paper, of
which the excess was continually returning in order to
be exchanged for gold and silver, the Bank of England
was for many years together obliged to coin gold to the
extent of between eight hundred thousand and a million
a year, or, at an average, about eight hundred and fifty
thousand pounds. For this great coinage, the bank, in
consequence of the worn and degraded state into which
the gold coin had fallen a few years ago, was obliged fre¬
quently to purchase bullion at the high price ot^L.4 per
ounce, which it soon after issued in coin at L.3. 17s. 10^ d.
an ounce ; losing in this manner between 2-£ and 3 per
cent, upon the coinage of so very large a sum. Though
the bank, therefore, paid no seignorage, though the go¬
vernment was properly at the expense of the coinage,
this liberality of government did not prevent altogether
the expense of the bank.”
Mr Ricardo very justly remarks upon this passage, that
“ on the principle above stated, it appears most clear, that
by not reissuing the paper thus brought in, the value of
the whole currency, of the degraded as well as the new
gold coin, would have been raised; when all demands on
the bank would have ceased;” or, in other words, the
price of gold would have fallen to its mint pi ice.
Mr Buchanan is not of this opinion; for he says, “ that
the <rreat expense to which the bank was at this time ex¬
posed was occasioned, not, as Dr Smith seems to imagine,
by any imprudent issue of paper, but by the debased state
of the currency, and the consequent high price of bullion.
The bank, it will be observed, having no other way of pro¬
curing guineas but by sending bullion to the mint to be
coined, was always forced to issue new coined guineas in
exchange for its returned notes; and when the cunency
was generally deficient in weight, and the price of bullion
high in proportion, it became profitable to draw these
heavy guineas from the bank in exchange for its paper,
to convert them into bullion, and to sell them with a pro¬
fit for bank paper, to be again returned to the bank for a
new supply of guineas, which were again melted and sold.
To this drain of specie the bank must always be exposed
while the currency is deficient in weight, as both an easy
and a certain profit then arises from the constant inter¬
change of paper for specie. It may be remarked, how ever,
that to whatever inconvenience and expense the bank was
then exposed by the drain of its specie, it never was ima¬
gined to be necessary to rescind the obligation to pay mo¬
ney for notes.” at xi
Mr Ricardo remarks upon this passage, that ‘ Mr Bu¬
chanan evidently thinks that the whole currency must ne¬
cessarily be brought down to the level of the value of the
debased pieces; but surely by a diminution of the quan¬
tity of the currency, the whole that remains can be ele¬
vated to the value of the best pieces.” With this opinion
of Mr Ricardo we cordially agree; and it is upon this
principle that a seignorage can be laid upon coinage, with¬
out any one directly paying for it as a tax. By restricting
the quantity of a currency, this seignorage may be 10, 20,
or even 50 per cent., and the price of gold neither raised
above its mint price, nor the bank subjected to a run for
guineas. . .
During the period of these important transactions, the New con-
constitution of the mint remained without alteration. It^hutiono
had not, however, escaped the attention of the legislature ;uie '
for we find that, on the 7th of February 1798, his majesty,
by an order in council, was pleased to appoint a commit¬
tee of his privy council “ to take into consideration the
Err
COIN
state of the coins of this kingdom, and the present esta¬
blishment and constitution of his majesty’s mint.” The
first effort of this committee was to advise the erection of
a new mint, with improved machinery; which desirable
object was accomplished between the years 1805 and
1810; and in March 1815, a new constitution was intro¬
duced, founded upon a very valuable report, drawn up
and presented to this committee by the Right Honour¬
able W. Wellesley Pole, who had been appointed master of
the mint in the preceding year.
We cannot better explain the whole constitution and
bearings of the establishment, than by detailing the rules,
regulations, and instructions applicable to the duties of the
different departments.
The proper duties of the Deputy-master and Worker are,
To receive, on account of the master and worker, his
majesty’s own bullion of gold and silver, as well as the
bullion of any other person, brought to the mint for coin¬
age :
To give acknowledgments for the same, specifying the
number of ingots, or parcels of coin, according to the pur¬
port of any invoice or bill delivered therewith :
To see the ingots safely deposited in the care and joint
custody of himself and the master’s assayer, for the pur¬
pose of being assayed, previous to their importation into
the office of receipt:
To cause the ingots, when duly assayed, to be brought
into the office of receipt without delay, there to be weigh¬
ed in the presence of the importers and cheque officers :
To make out a mint bill, to be delivered to the impor¬
ter, testifying the weight, fineness, and value of the seve¬
ral ingots, &c., together with the day and order of the de¬
livery into the mint, and to sign a receipt annexed to the
said bill, witnessed by the comptroller and king’s clerk :
To give directions to the master’s first clerk, for the
combining or potting the ingots for the melting, with the
proper portion of alloy; to see that the same be duly en¬
tered by the said first clerk and melter, in the pot book,
and the said book examined by the comptroller and king’s
clerk ; and to deliver out of the stronghold such ingots and
bullion as are potted, and charge the melter therewith,
according to the standard weight of each pot:
To keep an account of the bars received from the melt¬
ing-house, and delivered to the moneyers, and also of the
scissell returned by the moneyers to the melter, for which
their respective receipts will be given, and entered in the
pot-book, that they may be charged therewith:
To receive the coined monies from the moneyers, after
the same have been duly tried at the pix by the king’s
assayer, comptroller, and king’s clerk; and to deliver the
same to the importer, receiving back at the same time the
mint bill which had been given; or if the same be not
cleared off, to require that such portion thereof as has
been delivered be indorsed on the bill by the parties, by
a receipt, till the whole be discharged :
To seal and lock up in the usual chest, in conjunction
with the king’s assayer and comptroller, the pieces re¬
served for the public trial of the pix, and to make good to
the parties the pieces so taken, by payment in their ster¬
ling value, charging the same to the public expense :
As first executive officer of the mint, to watch over
every branch of the department; to inspect and oversee,
as much as lies in his power, the meltings, assayings, and
all the different processes of the coinage, and to report to
the master on the conduct of the officers:
To draw and indite all letters, instructions, commissions,
and other writings agreed upon and ordered by the master
and worker, for the service of the office, and to have the
same recorded by the clerk of the papers :
A G E. 39
To receive all monies issued at the exchequer or else- Coinage,
where, for the service of the mint; and to keep the pub-
lie account of the master, to be laid annually before the
auditors of public accounts, with the proper vouchers ; the
said account to be signed and attested by the master him¬
self:
To make quarter books of the salaries, wages, allow¬
ances, &c. due to the several officers, clerks, artificers,
and others, belonging to the establishment ; and to make
payment thereof on the quarter days, namely, the 5th of
January, the 5th of April, the 5th of July, and 10th of
October, whenever there shall be funds for that purpose:
also to pay the moneyers’ and melters’ charges for coinage,
according to the rates set forth in their respective agree¬
ments with the master ; the same to be payable out of the
monies issued for the service of the mint, the salaries, &c.
being previously discharged : also to pay the incidental
expenses and disbursements usually incurred in the differ¬
ent offices; and to pay the solicitor his account for dis¬
bursements, in carrying on prosecutions for offences against
the laws relating to the coin, out of such monies as shall
be impressed from time to time for that service, exclusive
of the ordinary allowance :
To receive all the fees arising to the master’s office un¬
der the indenture or otherwise, and to apply the said fees
to the pajuuent of the master’s salary, in the manner di¬
rected by the act 39 Geo. III., and to account for the
same to the lords commissioners of his majesty’s treasury,
by half-yearly statements, showing the deficiency of the fees,
and the sum to be provided, or the excess, as may happen ;
and to make out a yearly account to the treasury:
For this office he is to give the usual security, or such
other as may be required by the lords of the treasury. In
conjunction with the comptroller, he is to inspect and ex¬
amine the accounts of the clerk of the irons, as to the dies
supplied to the engraver and moneyers, and the faulty
ones destroyed: and to attend to the duties prescribed by
the act 14 Geo. III. respecting the standard money weights.
The proper duties of the King's Assayer are,
To keep a book of the assays made by him, of all such
gold and silver as may be brought into the mint, whereby
the quantity and fineness may appear:
If the master of the mint, or the merchant, or importer,
who brings his gold or silver for coinage, may not accord
between them as to the true value of the bullion, or if it
be not malleable and fit for working, or sufficiently nigh to
the standard, according to the customs of the mint, the
king’s assayer is to try the truth in that part, in the pre¬
sence of the master and comptroller, and the master shall
receive the same in manner as it becometh:
To report (after the bullion has been weighed, potted,
and melted) the assay of every several pot, commonly
called the pot assay; which pot assay shall be made of
some bar of the said bullion, to be taken by the comptrol¬
ler, the king’s assayer, or surveyor of meltings, or any one
of them, after the pot is cast out; the said report to be
made in writing, and delivered through the office to the
surveyor of meltings:
To take care that the bars of gold and silver be melted,
and the monies made in fineness agreeably to the indent¬
ed trial plates, made by direction, and ordered to be used
by the royal authority; whereof one trial plate for the
gold, and one for the silver, shall remain with the king’s
assayer:
In conjunction with the other principal officers, to over¬
see and survey the assaying, and melting, and making the
monies, at all times and in all places; and endeavour and
procure that the said monies, and every of them, shall be
properly made and perfected:
40 COIN
Coinage. To see and procure, with the comptroller, and weigher,
and teller, that the balances and weights be put to point
from time to time when they shall need it; so that no de¬
fault be found in them to the hurt of his majesty and his
people:
To make proof, by a process called the pixing, of the
monies before their deliverance to the bringers-in of the
bullion ; the said proof to be made in the presence of the
master and worker, comptroller, and king’s clerk, by an
assay to be taken of the fineness as well as of the weight,
by such quantity, and after such sort, as shall be agreed
on, or as has been customary, namely, by weighing the
pound weight in tale, and taking one piece out of every
journey weight of gold and silver respectively for the assay
of the fineness, as directed by the mint regulations. To
report thereon, and the report to be entered in the pix
books:
In conjunction with the master, and worker, and comp-
troller, to see a portion, namely, one piece out of every
journey weight of the said monies, after they have been
proved to be good, ensealed in a packet, and put into a
box, called the pix-box, to be locked up under the sepa¬
rate keys of the said officers, there to remain until trial
thereof by jury, called the trial of the pix, shall be made
before the king, or such of his council as are usually ap¬
pointed at Westminster, or elsewhere, for that purpose.
He is further bound to instruct in the art of assaying,
the probationer assayer, who shall be nominated by the
king’s assayer, and approved by the master and worker;
and to attend to the duties prescribed by act 14 Geo. III.
respecting the standard money weights.
The proper duties of the Comptroller are,
To enter on record in a journal or ledger all such bul¬
lion of gold and silver as shall from time to time be brought
into the mint; which entry shall comprehend the weight
as declared by the weigher and teller; the fineness as re¬
ported by the master’s assayer; and the value of the said
bullion, the parties’ names that brought it, and what day :
To deposit at the office of receipt in the stronghold, of
which he shall possess a key, in conjunction with the de¬
puty-master and worker, and king s clerk, the bullion,
after it shall have been received, and the assays and weight
thereof made, reported, and.entered, there to remain until
it is required to be delivered by the deputy-master for
the meltings:
In conjunction with the king’s clerk, to take an account
of the ingots delivered by the deputy-master out of the
stronghold for the meltings, according to the entry made
by the master’s first clerk and melter in the pot-book; and
to examine the said book as to the calculations of the
quantities and fineness of all manner of gold and silver
and alloy combined and put to each pot respectively for
the meltings, and to subscribe the same with his initials:
To take also an account, and oversee the weighings, of
the bars and scissell passed through the office between
the melter and moneyers; for which their respective re¬
ceipts shall be entered in the pot-book:
To keep an account of all the deliveries of the monies,
and to ascertain, at the end of every month or oftener,
the balances due by the master to the several importers,
and also the balances in the hands of the moneyers and
melter, and agree the same with the deputy-master, who
is to charge the said moneyers and melter therewith ac¬
cordingly :
In conjunction with the other principal officers, to over¬
see the melting, rolling, sizing, and making the monies at
all times and in all places ; and endeavour and procure that
the said monies, and every of them, shall be properly made
and perfected:
AGE.
To see and procure, with the king’s assayer, and weigh- Coinag!
er, and teller, that the balances and weights shall be put
to point from time to time when they shall need it, so
that no default be found to the hurt of his majesty or his
people:
To attend the proof and trial, called pixing, of the mo¬
nies before their deliverance to the importer, and to try
the weight of some of the pieces in each journey weight
singly, as a check that there may be no great variation
from the true weight; also to retain two pieces from
each journey weight, one to be delivered to the king’s as¬
sayer for his assay, and the other to be locked in the pix-
box, to be tried before the king or his council; to doquet
the parcel containing the pieces for the pix, and with the
other officers enseal the same, and lock it in the pix-box :
To deliver upon oath, before one of the barons of ex¬
chequer, a roll, which shall be called a comptroller’s roll,
containing an account of all the gold and silver monies
coined monthly in the said mint:
In conjunction with the deputy-master, to inspect and
examine the accounts of the clerk of the irons, as to the
dies supplied to the engraver and moneyers, and that the
faulty ones be destroyed :
To attend to the duties prescribed by act 14 Geo. III.
respecting the standard money-weights.
The proper duties of the Superintendent of Machinery and
Clerk of the Irons are,
To inspect, from time to time, the several steam-en¬
gines and boilers, and the machinery, apparatus, and im¬
plements, used in the coinage, and to see that the same
are kept in proper order for immediate working, at all
times:
To oversee and direct, in conjunction with the com¬
pany of moneyers, the artificers and workmen employed
by government about the machinery, in doing all manner
of work that may be expedient; and likewise in the con¬
struction of all the smaller implements and tools neces¬
sary to carry on the coinage, upon the principle of the
machinery erected ; the repairs and work being ordered un¬
der the authority of the master and board of mint officers :
To superintend the working of the machinery, and in¬
struct, to the best of his ability, the officers and money¬
ers in the use and management of it; and to report to the
board upon any neglect or misuse:
To examine the several accounts of expenses incurred
in the machinery, certifying, in pursuance of the agree¬
ments entered into between the master and the money¬
ers, the charges, both in respect to the bills, and also the
wages to the artificers, which shall respectively be borne
both by the government and moneyers.
As Clerk of the Irons,
To superintend the die press-rooms, and purchase, or
procure to be forged, at the cheapest rate, to be approved
by the board, all such dies as shall be ordered by the
board, and to take care that the same are of the best qua¬
lity, and properly forged :
To oversee the workmen in the die press-room, and that
the dies be skilfully sunk and hardened, and properly
turned ; and to attend to all matters and things for the
w'ell ordering and conducting this service :
To keep a true account of all the blank dies, matrixes,
and puncheons for coinage which shall be delivered to the
engravers, or that shall be sunk or stamped by the engra¬
vers, and, after stamping, made fit for use and hardened:
To require the engravers monthly to return as many
dies as shall be found faulty and worn :
To give an account, as often as required, to the master
and comptroller, of the blank dies delivered to the engra-
COINAGE.
. 41
vers, and the faulty ones returned, that a just account may
be kept, and all the faulty dies defaced :
To unlock and be present whenever the great die-press
for multiplying the dies is used ; to be responsible for its
not being applied for improper purposes ; and that no me¬
dals, pattern-pieces, or coin of any description be struck,
but by a written order from the master or his deputy.
The proper duties of the Kings Clerk and Clerk of the
Papers are,
To attend the weighings-in, and enter in his ledger-book
an account of all such bullion of gold and silver as shall be
brought into the mint, describing the weight and fineness
as reported, the parties names that brought it, and the
day;
To deposit at the office of receipt in the stronghold, of
which he shall possess a key in conjunction with the de¬
puty-master and comptroller, the bullion after it shall have
been weighed in, and the weight and assays reported,
there to remain until it shall be required to be delivered
over by the deputy-master for the meltings :
In conjunction with the comptroller, to take an account
of the ingots delivered by the deputy-master to the melt-
er, as set down in the pot-book, and to examine the calcu¬
lations of the pot-book as to the quantities and fineness of
all manner of gold, and silver, and alloy, put to each pot,
and to subscribe the same with his initials :
Also to take an account and oversee the weighing of the
bars and scissell passed through the office between the
me!ter and moneyers, for which their respective receipts
shall be entered in the pot-book :
To attend the pix and deliverance of the monies, and re¬
cord the same, and agree the master’s, melter’s, and mo-
neyer’s balances up to the end of every month :
To enter, as clerk of the papers, in the record-book, all
office-letters, papers, appointments, warrants, and proceed¬
ings of the board :
To assist the deputy-master in the secretary depart¬
ment, and instruct the master’s second clerk in the keep¬
ing of the proper entries of bills and accounts for expenses
incurred, or in making copies of all such papers as shall
be required by the master or his deputy, or by the board.
General Instructions for the common duties of the Principal
Officers before mentioned, to be by them observed.
To make their ordinary habitations and abode in the
houses assigned them within the mint:
To meet in the board-room at the mint office every Wed¬
nesday, after the delivery of the monies, or on such other
day and hour as the master or the service of the mint
shall require, there to form a board; three members, the
master or his deputy being one, are competent to act:
To consult together, and order all business appertaining
to them concerning the office, determining the hours of
attendance of the several officers, the receipts of the bul¬
lion, and the delivery of coin :
To consider and give directions to the solicitor of the
mint, from information laid by him before the board, for
undertaking prosecutions for offences relating to the coin,
and require him to report, from time to time, as to the
state of the prosecutions and convictions :
To take up and employ such smiths, workmen, and la¬
bourers as may be severally wanted in the die department
and assay offices, and for assisting in the porterage and
weighing of the bullion and coin in the office of receipt;
and to order the superintendent of machinery and clerk
of the irons to purchase or procure to be forged all such
dies as are necessary for the coinage or service of the mint;
and to provide all necessaries, and do all manner of busi¬
ness within the mint, as may be needful:
VOL. VII.
To observe, follow, and perform all orders, warrants, or Coinage,
significations of the master and worker, whether grounded
upon warrants from the king, the lords of the committee
of council for coin, or the lords commissioners of the trea¬
sury ; and in all things to obey jointly or severally, in their
respective places, such directions as he shall from time to
time judge necessary and fit to give for the service of the
mint:
To see that the accounts of the office for the receipt of
the bullion and delivery of the coin, as well as the check
and control thereof, be kept in due manner as prescribed;
and that the comptrolment roll of the monies coined month¬
ly be exhibited yearly to the auditors of public accounts:
To see also that the receipts and payments of all mo¬
nies for the service of the mint be charged and accounted
for in the master’s public account; and that all bills, ac¬
counts, and statements belonging thereto be examined and
allowed under at least three signatures of the principal
officers, of which the master’s deputy is to be one, previ¬
ously to its being laid before the audit office :
Also to examine and report to the lords commissioners of
the treasury on the fees derived to the master’s office, and
the application thereof, pursuant to the act 39 Geo. III.
as stated in the receiver’s account, in order that the same
may be declared and passed :
To prescribe to the under officers and servants their
several charges and duties, and to see the due perfor¬
mance of them; and in case of negligence or unfaithful
conduct, to report to the master, or, as far as the board are
authorized, remove them from their situations:
Not to suffer the works of the mint to be viewed with¬
out an order signed by the master ; or any stranger or fo¬
reigner, not having business at the mint, without know¬
ledge of his quality, to have intercourse with the officers
while performing their duties.
The proper duties of the Master s Assayer are,
To receive from the master and worker all manner of
gold and silver ingots brought to the mint:
To deposit the same in the joint custody of the deputy-
master and himself, in the stronghold of the assay office,
till the assays are made :
To cut one or more pieces from each ingot (as he may
think proper), and assay the same :
To make written reports of the assay of each ingot, de¬
scribing the fineness, date, and name or mark of the im¬
porter, and keep a record thereof; also to make such re¬
marks on the quality of the bullion as may be needful for
the master’s information, and to deliver the list usually
given by the importer, of-the purchase assays :
To give instructions for the classing of certain of the in¬
gots together, so that the bullion may be mixed and worked
as close to the standard as possible, and advantages pro¬
cured by the mint assay :
To deliver the ingot when assayed into the office of re¬
ceipt.
The proper duties of the Master s First Clerk and Melter
are,
To superintend and carry on the operations of the melt¬
ings and refinings, according to agreements (stating the
prices and conditions) to be made from time to time be¬
tween the master and melter :
To attend the weighings-in at the office, and rate and
standard the ingots in conjunction w ith the other officers;
and, their several accounts agi'eeing, to enter the same in
his journal, so that no difference may arise between the
deputy-master and himself as to the value of the bullion
delivered to be melted :
To arrange, under the direction of the deputy-master
F
I'
42
COINAGE.
Coinage, from the said journal, and from the list of ingots classed
by the master’s assayer, the combination of the bullion for
melting, and to make the proper calculations of the quan¬
tities and fineness of all manner of gold and silver and
alloy put to each respective pot; and to enter the same
fairly in a book, called the pot-book, and subscribe his
initials to each pot so made up :
To receive the bullion so prepared from the deputy-
master, to be deposited and melted under the joint cus¬
tody and inspection of himself and the surveyor of melt-
ings:
To melt and cast the bars, according to agreement;
and, after they have been assayed and reported standard
by the king’s assayer, to deliver them into the office of
receipt, there to be weighed by the weigher and teller, in
presence of a cheque officer, and passed to the moneyers:
To receive the returns of scissell, light work, and ends,
according to agreement, from the moneyers, to be weigh¬
ed in like manner, the receipts between the moneyers and
melter for the bar and scissell being entered in the pot-
To receive from the deputy-master all such gold and
silver as may be necessary to refine; to make up an ac¬
count in the pot-book of each charge, showing the stand¬
ard amount, to be signed with his initials, and examined
by the comptroller and kings clerk; and to supply a
quantity of fine ingots, equal in standard weight by com¬
putation to the amount delivered to refine, the same to be
assayed by the master’s assayer, and weighed into the
office of receipt, and rated and standarded so as to com¬
bine and pot with the coarse ingots : .
To agree the balances remaining in his hands with the
deputy-master, at the end of each month :
To employ and instruct the master’s second clerk in the
art of melting bullion ; to be ready to do his work at all
times when he shall be warned by the master and woikei ;
to attend to his majesty’s service, as need shall require,
both morning and afternoon; and to work so many hours
every day, Sunday excepted, at such tasks as shall be
thought fit by the master, and appointed by the board.
by the weigher and teller, in the presence of a check- Coinage
officer ; and to take receipts from the melter, to be enter-
ed into the pot-book
To agree with the deputy-master the balance remain¬
ing in their hands at the end of each month,, that they
may be charged therewith ; and from time to time, as the
master shall require, make full payment and deliverance
of all manner of monies, with all convenient speed, in order
to discharge the said balances, or bring in sufficient sup¬
plies of gold and silver, bullion, or ingots, equal in value,
according to the weight and assay7 to be made thereof at
the time : . .
Not to take, either singly by the provost, or jointly by
the company, any apprentice to be instructed m the art
or mystery7 of a moneyer, or any part thereof, without the
license and permission of the master first had and obtain¬
ed under his hand in writing :
To oversee, in conjunction with the superintendent of
machinery, who is to direct the same, the artificers em¬
ployed by government about the machinery, in doing all
manner of work that may be expedient, and in the con¬
struction of the smaller tools and implements for the coin¬
age :
To be ready to do their woilk at all times without denial,
when they shall be warned by the master
Duly to attend his majesty’s service, in the present
way of coining, as need shall require, both morning and
afternoon ; and to work at such tasks, and so many hours
every day, Sunday only excepted, as shall be thought fit
by the master, and appointed by the board, according to
the labour of their respective tasks, and the length of days:
Neither the provost, nor any of the moneyers, their ap¬
prentices, or servants, at any time, to vend, pay, 01 dis¬
tribute any piece or pieces of the coined monies, until the
same shall have been delivered by them, according to the
course of the mint, into the office of receipt, and duly as¬
sayed and pixed.
The proper duties of the Provost and Company of 3Ioney-
ers are.
To superintend and carry on jointly as a company the
several processes for the manufacture of tne coin, in the
rolling, annealing, blanching, cutting out, sizing, and stamp¬
ing, according to agreements (specifying the prices and
conditions) to be made, from time to time, between tne
master and worker and the provost and company :
To receive the standard bars of gold and silver for mak¬
ing the monies, from the melter, at the office of receipt,
there to be weighed by the weigher and teller, in the pre¬
sence of a cheque officer, and to give receipts for the same,
to be entered in the pot-book :
To coin such quantities of the different species of the
monies as shall be directed by the master, according to
agreement, and to bring the said monies, in clean pieces,
into the office of receipt in journey weights, there to be
tried at the pix and weighed :
To deliver the monies proportionally in weight, accord¬
ing to the bars received ; and if any thing lack of the
weight at the time of deliverance, to content and pay unto
the^master the balance at the time of the delivery :
To make out of the bars which shall be delivered- to
them clean and fit to be wrought, seven twelfth parts into
money, so that there be but five parts in twelve scissell :
To return the scissell, light work, and ends to be re¬
melted, proportionally, according to agreement; the.same
to be delivered into the office of receipt, to be weighed
The proper duties of the Chief Engraver are,
To make and frame such draughts and embossments,
or receive such models for engraving, as the master shall
direct:
To engrave from the said designs or models all such
matrixes and dies as the master shall direct, and the ser¬
vice of the mint require :
To oversee from time to time the multiplication of the
puncheons and dies in the die press-room, and to receive
the dies from the superintendent and clerk of the irons,
that they may be delivered to the surveyor of the money-
presses in a proper state for the use of the coinage;
To return monthly to the superintendent and clerk of
the irons, as many dies as shall from time to time be found
faulty and worn by using or otherwise :
Not to work, or 'make, or grave any puncheons, matrixes,
dies, or stamps, for the making or coining of any money,
but only in such places in the mint as shall have been as¬
signed thereunto: . .
To oversee the striking of the monies in the coming
press-room, and to direct all such dies as are faulty to be
taken out of the press, and fresh dies put in, that the
monies may be properly struck.
The proper duties of the Weigher and Teller are,
To weigh at the office of receipt, under the master’s di¬
rection, all manner of bullion brought to the mint to be
coined, or for the service of the king :
To weigh the bullion, according to such weight or
draught, near to a journey w-eight, as has been customary :
All importations to be weighed in the presence of the
deputy-master, or master’s clerk, comptroller, or king s
43
COINAGE.
ijinage. clerk, and tlie importer, who is to state the weight of each
ingot from his list, for the guidance of the weigher:
To declare the weight aloud from his scale, that the
same may be taken down by the officers and importers:
In conjunction with the other officers, to see that the
bullion is free from dirt, and in a fit state for weighing ;
and to do strict justice, as much as in him lies, between
the parties:
To weigh the bars and scissell passed between the
moneyers and melters, and declare the weight of each
draught; and also all supplies of fine ingots received from
the melter; and the balance or supplies of ingots, &c.
made from time to time by the moneyers and melter:
To weigh the coined monies from the moneyers to
be delivered to the importers in even journey weights, or
to declare the plus or minus on each draught, that the
same may be recorded, and the moneyers made answer-
able for the deficiency of weight or balance at the time of
deliverance:
To attend the pix, and tell out the number of pieces
contained in a pound weight Troy of the respective species
of monies to be delivered to the king’s assayer for trial:
To undertake by himself, or by a proper workman in the
mint, according to an agreement of prices and conditions,
to clean and adjust the beams, &c. in the office of receipt,
and to keep the same in order, so that they be always
ready and perfect for working.
The proper duties of the Surveyor of Meltings are.
To survey the meltings of all gold and silver, and to
take care that the ingots or bullion, according to the num¬
ber and description in the pot-book, with their proper al¬
loy only, to be weighed by himself, be put into the pot
which they are respectively set out for:
To see that nothing but scissell, or such returns of ends
as be clean and good, of gold and silver respectively, be
put into the pots of scissell:
During the time the pots are melting, not to absent him¬
self, or to be out of view of the pots so melting, until they
have been poured off:
To take two or more assay pieces from some bar or
portion of each pot cast from the top, middle, or bottom
of the pot, as agreed with the king’s assayer:
To fold up each assay-piece in a paper, doqueted with
a description of the ingots and alloy, or scissell, &c. melt¬
ed in each pot, the number of the pot and the date, and
to deliver the same to the king’s assayer :
To possess a key of the strongholds in the melting
house, and not to suffer any bars of gold or silver to be
delivered out of his custody, until such time as they have
been duly assayed and reported good ; which reports will
be made to him in written notices, transmitted through
the office by the king’s assayer:
To keep a book containing the weight of all such gold
and silver as shall be molten from time to time, with the al¬
loys put into the same.
The proper duties of the Surveyor of the Money Presses are,
To inspect the coining presses, and to have a distinct
and separate lock upon each of the presses:
To be present at the striking of the monies, and not to
suffer the presses to be used for striking any pieces or
coins but such as the master shall direct:
To have the custody of the dies received from the en¬
graver and clerk of the irons, to give out the same for
coinage, and return the faulty ones to the chief engraver,
to be delivered to the clerk of the irons :
To polish the dies, or oversee the doing of the same,
when the moneyers are coining:
To inspect the monies, that they be well made, and free
from brokages and faulty or dirty pieces ; and to do, exe- Coinage,
cute, and perform, all such other works and services in
the said office as the master shall direct and appoint.
The duties of the Probationer Assayer are,
To receive instructions from the king’s assayer for ac¬
quiring a knowledge and proficiency in the art of assaying :
To do all such services in carrying on the business of
the assay-office as the king’s assayer shall require and
the master direct.
The duties of the Masters Second Clerk are.
To make out fair copies and entries of all such accounts
and papers as might be required in the master’s office, and
to do all such services in the said office as the master or
deputy-master shall direct or appoint:
To receive instructions from the master’s first clerk and
melter, in the art and undertaking of the meltings.
The duties of the Assistant Engraver are.
To assist the chief engraver in the engraving of the
reverses, lettering, or such other parts of the dies as the
chief engraver shall appoint:
To receive instruction from the chief engraver in the
art of engraving, and to render all such services in the
department as the chief engraver shall require, and the
master direct.
The duties of the Mint or Bullion Porter are.
To attend the office daily if required; to be present at
all importations and deliveries at the office; and to mark
on the assay paper the weight of each ingot weighed at
the scale:
To arrange, with the assistance of the master’s porter,
the ingots in the stronghold, and put them together in
pots, to be carried down to the melting-house:
To oversee the under porters in giving all proper assist¬
ance at all the weighings, and in the receipt into the mint
of all bullion, and deliverance of monies or bullion :
To give the regular notices for the attendance of the
officers and other persons at the office for business; and
to do all such services as shall be directed by the master
or board.
The proper duties of the Warden of the Mint are.
In conjunction with the master and comptroller, and with
the assistance of the king’s assayer, to make the weights
of a guinea and of a shilling, according to the established
standards, and also parts and multiples of the same, to be
presented to council, and, if approved, to become standard
weights, to be lodged in the mint:
To have the custody of the said weights at the mint, in
conjunction with the piaster and comptroller:
To make, also, in conjunction with the master and comp¬
troller, and with the assistance of the king’s assayer, copies
or duplicates of the said weights, to be lodged with an of¬
ficer called the stamper of money weights :
To summons once, or oftener, in every year, by warrant
under the hands of himself, the master, and comptroller,
the stamper of money weights to appear before them, and
produce the said duplicates of the standard weights, to be
examined and compared with the standard weights lodged
at the mint office in their custody:
To pay the salary allowed to the stamper of money
weights, out of monies to be intrusted to him for that ser¬
vice by the master of the mint:
No person to be appointed to act as deputy to the war¬
den, without the sanction of the lords of the treasury.
44
COINAGE.
Coinage.
The proper duties of the Stamper of Money Weights are,
To attend the summons of the warden, master, and
comptroller, and to have the duplicate weights in his pos¬
session compared with the standard weights at the office,
at least once a year :
To adjust the duplicate weights by the said standard
weights, that all weights for weighing gold and silver
money may be regulated by the said duplicates:
To stamp the weights made use of in weighingthe money,
receiving a fee of one penny on every twelve weights
stamped or marked, pursuant to act of parliament:
No other weights but those stamped by the stamper
of weights to be accepted by law, for determining the
weight of the coins; and persons counterfeiting the
stamps, or altering weights so stamped, to be fined and
imprisoned:
Not to interfere with the weights of the founders’ com¬
pany, if they have their weights sized and marked as
above:
To receive the salary allowed to his office from the war¬
den or his deputy.
fineness ; and the figures on the left hand are the excess Coinage,;
of fineness above standard, and those on the right hand
the excess of alloy beyond standard gold.
Saturday, SCh/i September 1817.
Importation from the Governor and Company of the Bank
of England, of 12 Gold Ingots for Coinage.
The proper duties of the Solicitor of the Mint are,
To attend the board of mint-officers every Wednesday,
or such other day as may be appointed, to lay before them
such information and depositions in regard to persons of¬
fending against the laws relating to coin, and to receive
the board’s orders for acting thereupon :
. To act in conformity to such order in the prosecution
of all such persons as shall clip, counterfeit, melt down,
wash, file, or diminish the current coin of the kingdom,
or alter any counterfeit coin, knowing the same to be
counterfeit, or be guilty of any crime or offence concern¬
ing the said coin or money, or against the laws relating
to them:
For the better carrying on of the prosecutions that may
happen at the same time in different counties, to substi¬
tute and employ such other person as he shall see fit in
his stead:
To make out quarterly accounts of the expenses of the
prosecutions, with the proper vouchers, to be examined
by the board of mint-officers, showing the disbursements
made by him; and to make an abstract account at the
end of every year, of monies received and expended,
that the balance may be ascertained and the account dis¬
charged.
the mint.
Gold.
Bating.
1 17 12
1 17 0
1 17 12
1 17 12
1 17 12
1 17 12
11 5 0
Assay Beport.
No. 1 B. 1 carat grs.
 2 1
 3 1
 4 W. 1
  5 1
 6 1
  7 B. 1
  8 1
 9 1
 10W. 1
 11 1
  12 1
Weight of
Ingot.
15
15
15
15
15
15
15
15
15
15
15
15
Gross 180
Standard 180
Bating.
1 17 12
1 17 12
1 17 12
1 17 12
1 17 12
1 17 12
11 5 0
A mint bill is given to the importer for this bullion,
testifying the weight, and fineness, and value of the seve¬
ral ingots, together with the day and order of the delivery
into the mint. A receipt is annexed to the bill, signed
by the deputy-master, and witnessed by the comptroller
and king’s clerk. When the said bullion is delivered to
the importers in the state of coin, the mint bill is received
back at the same time by the deputy-master and worker.
The first clerk and melter is next required to pot the
gold for melting, and the same is recorded in the pot-book
as follows.
Saturday, 20th September 1817.
FIRST POT.
Usual rou- s^ia^ now proceed to state the regular routine of
tine of bu-the business of the mint, when the processes of the coin-
siness at age are going forward, under the various check-officers
whose duties we have enumerated.
The Bank of England are the usual importers of gold
bullion. When they bring a parcel of gold for coinage,
say, for example, twelve ingots; ou these being brought
to the mint they are deposited with the master’s assay-
master, and under the key of the deputy-master of the
mint, where they remain until the assay-master has made
an assay of every ingot separately. When he is ready to
deliver the assay reports of the said bullion to the master
and worker, or his deputy, the importers are required to
attend in the mint office of receipt, where the said assay
reports are read over by the weigher and teller; and the
same are recorded, according to their numbers, in the
journals of the master, comptroller, and master’s first
clerk. To render this more intelligible to our readers, we
shall insert the form of an importation of gold, by way of
example, and make the same into pots for the process of
melting, which immediately follows its importation. The
letter B is for better, and W for worse, than standard
Nos.
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Bank. Eng. Sept. 20.
1 17 12
1 17 12
1 17 12
15
15
15
15
15
1 17 12
1 17 12
15 0 0 1 17 12
5 12 12 90 0 0 5 12 12
SECOND POT.
Nos.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
Bank Eng. Sept. 20
17 12
17 12
17 12
15
15
15
15
15
17 12
17 12
12.
15 0 0 1 17 12
5 12 12 90 0 0 5 12 12
These pots are delivered to the melter, and placed to
the debit of his account, in the books of the deputy-mas¬
ter, comptroller, and king’s clerk.
If the melter does not immediately melt the bullion
when delivered to him, it is placed in his stronghold, to
which there are two keys, one of which is kept by him¬
self, the other by the surveyor of the meltings.
COINAGE.
45
When the bullion is to be melted, the surveyor of the
meltings is in attendance, and examines that the ingots
correspond with the numbers recorded in the pot-book;
and, when satisfied that they are correct, the ingots belong¬
ing to each pot respectively are charged into the melting-
pot ; and it is his duty to attend until they are melted and
cast into bars, without ever leaving the melting-house.
When the betterness and the worseness of the ingots
do not balance each other, as we see it does in the ex¬
amples above, but when there is an excess of betterness,
which requires an addition of alloy, it is calculated after
the standard of twenty-two carats of fine gold, and two
carats of alloy, being the English standard of gold. The
alloy is weighed by,the surveyor of the meltings, and put
into the melting-pots in his presence. And when there
is an excess of worseness, which requires an addition of
fine gold to produce the standard of the coin, the same is
weighed by the surveyor of the meltings, and put into the
melting-pots in his presence.
The gold is melted in pots made of black lead. Those
chiefly used in the royal mint are of foreign manufacture,
and are less liable to break in annealing than pots of Eng¬
lish manufacture, from their having more black lead and
less clay in their composition. Before the gold is charged
into the pots, the pot is placed in a furnace of fourteen
inches square, and twenty inches deep from the grate.
It is placed on a stand usually cut from the bottom of an
old pot, and is about an inch or inch and half thick. This
is covered with coke dust, which makes the pot part from
it when withdrawn from the furnace, after the metal is
melted. To give depth to the pot, a muffle is placed upon
it, which is in fact an old pot cut in two, and the wide
end fitted to the mouth of the pot. The muffle is covered
with the other half of the old pot, so that it is one pot in¬
verted over another. The object of this contrivance is to
give an additional depth of four inches of fuel above the
pot, by which a more equal degree of heat is given to the
melted gold, which is an object of great importance,
otherwise there might not be an uniform mixture of the
alloy and fine gold, which is easily effected at a proper
degree of temperature. By removing the top which'co¬
vers the muffle, the process of the melting can be inspect¬
ed as required. The furnace is lighted by putting a little
ignited charcoal over the grate and around the melting-
pot. About four inches of coke is put over the charcoal,
leaving the door of the furnace open, and the damper,
which communicates with the flue of the furnace, shut.
As soon as the coke is properly ignited, the furnace may
be filled to the height of the muffle with coke; and leav¬
ing the door still open, and the damper shut, the fire will
gradually burn through, and not endanger the pot by
being too suddenly heated. When the pot is heated to a
bright red, the gold is charged, and generally the pot,
weighing from ninety to a hundred and five pounds Troy,
is melted in one hour. When the metal is thoroughly
melted, it is well mixed or stirred with a rod of black
lead, which is heated to a bright red before putting it into
the metal. The pot is then withdrawn from the furnace,
by first drawing a bar of the grate, which is moveable, on
each side of the pot, and forcing all the fuel into the ash¬
pit; a pair of tongs is then made to encircle the pot, to
which is attached a lever, by which the pot is lifted upon
the top of the furnace. The pot is then carried in ano¬
ther pair of tongs, and its contents poured into two moulds,
which produce two bars of ten inches long, seven inches
wide, and one inch thick. The pot is returned to the
furnace, the bars that were withdrawn replaced, and the
ignited fuel put round the pot, which is charged with more
gold. A pot, by proper treatment, may be used eight or
ten times in the course of a day.
From each pot melted two pieces or samples are cut,
one from the first poured bar, the other from the second.
These are put in papers, marked accordingly by the sur¬
veyor of the meltings, who delivers them wrapt up in a
slip of paper, which contains the numbers of the ingots of
which the pot was composed, their gross weight, with the
quantity of alloy, or of fine gold, as it may happen, which
was added in the melting. The bars of gold, after being
weighed by the melter for his own satisfaction, are placed
in the stronghold, under the key of the surveyor of the
meltings, until the king’s assay-master has reported their
standard quality. If they are found to be the proper stand¬
ard, he sends a written order, authorizing them to be de-
Coinasre.
livered to the moneyers, for the purpose of making coin.
When the bars are delivered to the moneyers for coin¬
age, they are carried by the melter to the office of receipt
and delivery, where they are weighed by the weigher
and teller, in the presence of one of the check-officers, one
of the moneyers, and the melter.
The moneyer gives a receipt in the pot-book to the
melter for the gold so delivered, and the same is placed
to the credit of his account in the books of the deputy-
master, comptroller, and king’s clerk. The same process
is gone through when the moneyers return the portions of
the gold commonly called scissell, which they cannot make
into money, and for the weight of which the melter gives
a receipt in the pot-book, which is placed to the credit of
the moneyers, and debit of the melter’s account.
When silver bullion is imported into the mint, it passes Silver,
through the same preliminary stages as we have seen the
gold pass. The weight of the ingots of silver is from fifty to
sixty pounds Troy each ; and they are numbered, assayed,
weighed before the importers, and potted for melting, the
same as the gold ingots. The only difference is in the pots,
weighing from 400 to 450 Troy lbs. each. The silver is re¬
ported in ounces and dwts.; and the standard computed to
that of 11 ounces 2 dwts. of fine silver, and 18 dwts. alloy.
The pots are melted under the inspection and superin¬
tendence of the surveyor of the meltings, in every respect
the same as the gold, excepting that three samples are
taken for the assay, one from the first, the middle, and last
poured bar of each pot.
The process of melting silver now practised at the royal
mint is a recent invention, and a very great improvement.
The usual mode was to melt it in black-lead pots, and a
considerable coinage of tokens for the Bank of Ireland was
performed with the meltings done in this way. The im¬
portations being entirely Spanish dollars, and the tokens
of that standard, the melter could easily melt them in
quantities of sixty pounds Troy, which was done. The
inconvenience of this mode was severely felt, because in¬
gots of silver of various qualities could not be imported
for coinage, from the difficulty of not being able to blend
several together in one pot, so as to produce the proper
standard of our money. So sensible was government of
this imperfection in the mint, that in the year 1777 Mr
Alchorne, then master’s assay-master, was sent to visit
the mints of Paris, Rouen, Lille, and Bruxelles, and to
collect information as to the arts of coining practised in
those mints, and particularly the art of melting silver in
large quantities. Mr Alchorne’s intimate knowledge of
the English mint, together with his various and extensive
knowledge as a practical chemist, well fitted him for the
important undertaking; and his observations on the coin
and coinage of France and Flanders are exceedingly cre¬
ditable to his judgment and knowledge.
It is worthy of remark, that it is on record in the books
of the mint, that in the recoinage of King William III.
the pots of silver weighed 400 pounds Troy and upwards ;
but every trace as to how this quantity of silver was melt-
46 C O I N A G E.
Coinage, ed is completely lost; and it is only conjectured that it
was done in pots made of wrought iron. But not a ves¬
tige of a melting furnace, fitted for such a purpose, is to
be found in the Tower, nor a single record of the method
practised.
In the year 1758 some trials for melting silver in wrought-
iron pots took place, by means of a blast-furnace; but
they were found so laborious, inconvenient, and profitless,
as to cause the process to be abandoned.
In 1787, when some silver was imported into the mint
for coinage, new experiments were made by the late Mr
Morrison, then deputy-master and worker, who conduct¬
ed the meltings. A blast-furnace was again tried and aban¬
doned. He next attempted to melt the silver in large
black-lead pots, containing from 100 to 120 pounds Troy ;
but the repeated breaking of the pots, although it was at¬
tempted to guard them by outside luting, proved a great
interruption to the business, and serious loss to the melter.
Trial indeed was made with cast-iron pots; but these
were found subject to melt, and the iron got mixed with
the silver. The work too was continually stopped by the
king’s assayer, in consequence of the metal not being of
the proper standard, it being always refined by the pro¬
cess of melting, and lading it with ladles from the pot.
Independently of these considerations, very great diffi¬
culty arose at the office in arranging the potting previous to
the operation. The practice pursued at the mint, in or¬
der to reduce the metal to standard, of combining and
blending the various ingots of better and inferior qua¬
lities, adding what little portion of alloy or fine metal
might be necessary to obtain accuracy, rendered it impos¬
sible, where the ingots weighed from 60 to 80 lbs. Troy,
to pot them of a weight not exceeding 100 lbs. Troy. It
therefore became necessary, in the first place, to reduce
the larger description of ingots to a smaller size by melt¬
ing, and these were again weighed into the office of re¬
ceipt. Hence a double operation took place, occasioning
additional labour, waste, and expense to the melter, and
requiring extraordinary trouble and attendance on the
part of the office. It was very obvious that this mode of
conducting the silver meltings was extremely defective,
and it was in consequence abandoned.
The next experiments made were with a reverberatory
furnace, built after the model of those used in the Lille
mint. But no better success attended these trials, and
the process was, as in former cases, abandoned. The im¬
perfection here arose from the great refinement of the
silver in the melting, by the oxidation of the alloy, which
the usage of the British mint does not allow the melt¬
er to supply, as in the French mints. In the French
mints, as soon as the silver is in fusion, a sample is taken
out and assayed, and copper is added in proportion to the
refinement of the melted silver, which is kept in fusion
while the assay is making; the whole is well stirred, and
immediately laded out and cast into bars.
In the years 1795 and 1798, several further trials were
made by the late Mr Morrison, who was indefatigable in
his endeavours to perfect his department, with a view to
attain the object so much desired, namely, that of melting
large quantities of silver at once, without producing so
much waste and refinement in the metal. In these expe¬
riments he tried three furnaces, each of a different con¬
struction ; and though he came much nearer his point,
there was still an imperfection, arising from the mode
of dipping out the metal from the pot with ladles, which
chilled the metal, and rendered the process extremely
laborious and tedious.
No new experiments were made until the year 1804.
Mr Morrison having died in 1803, Avas succeeded by his
son, as deputy-master and worker of the mint. The ex¬
treme scarcity and defective state of the silver coin at Coin
this time, arising from the defective state of the melting '—i
department, urged Mr Morrison to renew the experiments
of his father. In following these experiments Mr Mor¬
rison had in view the construction of a furnace adapted for
the use of cast-iron pots,—the use of pots of a size capa¬
ble of melting from 400 to 500 lbs. Troy at one charge,—
the adaptation of such machinery as would supersede the
clumsy and wasteful process of lading the silver from the
pots when melted,—and, lastly, the introduction of the
use of moulds made of cast iron, instead of those then
used in the mint, which were made of sand.
In all these objects Mr Morrison, highly to his credit,
succeeded perfectly; and the silver melting department
of the new mint was constructed according to the furnace
first used in the experiments which led to so satisfacto¬
ry a result. The whole has been in use since 1811, and
the department is capable of melting with ease 10,000 lbs.
Troy of silver daily; as was done for several months du¬
ring the recoinage of 1817.
We shall now proceed to a description of the machinery
and furnaces of the silver melting department, together
with the mode of conducting the process.
The upper part of Plate CLXIX. is a perspective view
of the machine for pouring the melted silver into the ingot
moulds.
Fig. 1, AA are the furnaces in which the metal is melt¬
ed. These are air-furnaces, built of fire-brick, in the
usual manner of melting furnaces; but, to render them
more durable, the brick-work is cased in cast-iron plates,
which are put together with screws. BB are the covers
to the furnace; they are held down to the top plate of
the furnaces by a single screw-pin for each; and on the
opposite side of the cover a handle a is fixed. By push¬
ing this handle, the cover is moved sidewise upon its cen¬
tre pin, so as to remove it from the furnace mouth. A
roller is fitted to the cover, to run upon the top plate, and
render the motion easy.
The interior figure of each furnace is circular, thirty
inches deep and twenty-one inches in diameter; the bot-
torn is a grate of cast-iron bars, each bar being moveable,
to admit the air. Upon the grate is placed a pedestal or
stand of cast iron, of a concave shape, covered an inch
thick with coke or charcoal dust, and upon which the pot
is placed in which the silver is melted. The pedestal is
nearly two inches thick, and is fully two inches broader
in its diameter than the pot, the object of which is to pro¬
tect the hip of the pot from the very high heat which the
current of air ascending through the grate, when the fur¬
nace is at work, creates, and which would otherwise melt
the pot. This precaution is essentially necessary, from
the pedestal raising the pot so considerably above the
grate, and from its being entirely surrounded by the fire
in the furnace. ,If the furnace, however, is properly ma¬
naged, there is no risk of melting the pot. On the top
or mouth of the pot is placed a muffle, which is a ring of
cast iron, six inches deep, made to fit neatly into the
mouth of the pot. The use of this muffle is similar to that
used in melting gold, to give a greater depth of fuel in
the furnace than the mere length of the pot, and which
gives a greater degree of perfection to the process. The
muffle is also extremely convenient, by giving a depth to
the pot, if we may so speak, which enables ingots of sil¬
ver to be charged which are longer than the depth of the
interior of the pot. The top of the ring or muffle is co¬
vered with a plate of cast iron, to prevent the fuel from
falling into the pot, and secure the metal from the action
of the atmospheric air when in fusion. Each furnace has
a flue nine inches wide and six inches deep. The flue is
four inches from the top of the furnace, and proceeds in
COINAGE.
' 47
a horizontal direction, and extends to the flue C, which
is nine inches square, and is carried up in a sloping di¬
rection to the stack or chimney, which is forty-five feet
high from the grate of the furnace.
When the furnace doors BB are closed, the current of
air which enters at the grate ascends through the body of
the furnace, and causes the fuel, which is coke, and which
surrounds the melting pot, to burn very intensely. The
degree of heat wanted, however, is very nicely regulated
bya damper, which is fixed in the flue of each furnace,
and exactly fitting the square of the flue, so that any por¬
tion of draught can be given to the furnace that may be
wanted. The damper is a plate of wrought iron, fixed in
a frame, and is easily moved in and out, so as to increase
or diminish the size of the flue. It is fixed in the brick
work of the sloping flue C, about eighteen inches above
the top of the furnace. The furnace doors B have small
holes in them to look into the furnace ; these are closed
by stoppers or plugs of cast iron.
When the furnace is put to work, it is lighted by some
ignited charcoal being put upon the grate, and around the
pot, which is always in its place before the fire is lighted ;
and upon the charcoal about three inches deep of coke
is put, w’hen the door B is shut, and the damper is pulled
out about two inches. When the coke is ignited, a simi¬
lar quantity is put on, and so continued until the furnace
is filled with ignited coke. The object of this precaution
is to prevent the cracking of the cast-iron pot, by being
too suddenly heated ; and it is generally about two hours
before the pot can be brought to a charging heat, to do it
with perfect safety. Before the silver is charged, the pot
is heated to a bright red ; it is then examined, to see if it has
cracked in bringing up, as it is technically called. This
is done by placing a cold iron tool of considerable thick¬
ness in the centre of the pot, which immediately renders
any crack visible to the eye. When satisfied that the pot
is sound, the silver is charged into the pot. With the sil¬
ver is put into the pot a small quantity of coarsely grain¬
ed charcoal powder, which coats the inner surface of the
pot, and prevents the silver from adhering to it. WTen
the silver is brought to the fusing point, the quantity of
charcoal is increased until it is nearly half an inch deep
on the surface of the silver, and which keeps the silver as
much as possible from the action of the common air, and
prevents that destruction of the alloy which would other¬
wise cause a considerable refinement in the metal. Wlien
the silver is completely and properly melted, it is well
stirred with an iron stirrer, so as to make the whole mass
of one uniform standard quality. The pot is then taken
out of the furnace by the crane, and conveyed to the pour¬
ing machine, by which its contents are poured into the
ingot moulds.
Fig. 3 is the crane ; it is supported by a strong column
of cast iron X, which is firmly fixed in masonry beneath
the floor. The gibbet of the crane, marked WTY, is cast in
one piece ; it has a collar at e, which fits upon a pivot form¬
ed at the upper end of the column X. At the lower part
of the gib is a collar, which embraces the column near its
base. On these two supports the gib turns freely round,
so that its extremity W may be placed over either of the
furnaces BB. The wheelwork of the crane is supported
in two frames zz, which are fixed to the gib by three bolts;
it consists of a cog-wheel c upon the end of the barrel on
which the chain winds, and a pinion b, which gives motion
to the cog-wheel. The axis of the pinion has a winch or
handle a at each end, to turn it round. The chain d
from the barrel is carried up over the pulley at c, which is
fitted in a part of the gib immediately over the pivot at
the top of the column X. The chain then passes over the
pulley W at the end of the gib, and has the tongs VT sus¬
pended to it. These are adapted to take up the pot be- Coinage,
tween the hooks or claws T at the lower ends. The two
limbs are united by a joint like shears, and the upper ends
V are connected with the great chain by a few links. The
pot has a projecting rim round the edge, and the tongs
take this rim to lilt the pot out of the furnace. The pot
being wound up to the required height by turning the
handle a, the gib of the crane is swung round to bring the
pot over the pouring machine, and it is lowered down into
it for the convenience of swinging the crane round a worm
which is fixed upon the column X at O, and a worm or
endless screw is mounted in the frame z to work in the
teeth of the wheel. The screw being turned by a winch
on the end of its spindle, will cause the gib to move round
on the column.
Fig. 2 represents that part of the pouring machine in
which the pot is placed. M is an axis which is mounted
in the frame of fig. 1, by the pivots at its ends. To this
axis is fixed a cradle which receives the pot. The cradle
is jointed together so as to open and shut, and the screw
m draws the parts together until they will fit the pot. L
is an arched rack, forming a continuation of the principal
bars of the cradle. When the cradle is in its place, as in
fig. 1, the rack L is engaged by a pinion K, and can there¬
by be elevated so as to pour out the metal at a lip or spout
which is made in the edge of the pot for that purpose.
The axis of the pinion K is turned by means of a winch
D with a train of wheels DE, FG, and HI. The man who
turns this winch stands before the pot, so as to see what
he is doing. The frame of the pouring machine is suffi¬
ciently evident from the figure. It is so made as to leave
an open space beneath for the carriage containing the in¬
got moulds.
Fig. 4 is a separate view of a pair of ingot moulds. The
two parts R and S put together, and form a complete
mould, as shown in fig. 5. The upper edge or mouth is
a little enlarged, to facilitate the pouring of the metal.
The moulds are made of cast iron. The part R has the
bottom and one side formed on it, and the other half S
has one side formed on it. Before the moulds are used,
they are heated in an iron closet, which has flues sur¬
rounding it, and they are then rubbed on the inside with
linseed oil.
PQ, fig. 1, is the carriage into which a row of these
moulds are placed, as shown at fig. 4, and they are screwed
up close by two screws jo/?, so as to hold them tight; the
moulds rest upon a plate, which is suspended by screws q
at each end, and can by that means be raised or lowered
to suit different heights of moulds. The carriage is sup¬
ported on four wheels QQ, which run upon a railway. PP
is a rack fixed to the bottom plate of the carriage; in this
rack a cog-wheel N acts; the cog-wheel is turned by a
pinion, which has a handle O fixed upon it; by turning the
handle the carriage is moved along upon the railway ; and
any one of the moulds 4 can be brought under the spout
of the pot 2; then by turning the handle D the pot can
be inclined so as to pour the metal into the mould until it
is full.
In the silver melting-house there are eight melting fur¬
naces, two cranes, and two pouring machines. Each crane
stands in the centre of four furnaces, freely commanding
the centre of each, and conveys the pots to the pouring
machine. The eight furnaces are worked three times
daily, and each pot contains upon an average 420 lbs.
Troy, making the total melting 10,080 lbs. There are
four men to each four of the furnaces; each party pour
their own pots, and the whole, meltings are finished, from
the time of first charging in the morning, iu little more
than ten hours.
The whole of the silver meltings, as we before observed,
COINAGE.
48
Coinage, are conducted under the superintendence of the surveyor
of the meltings ; and he allows no silver to be delivered to
the company of moneyers by the melter, unless he has a
written order from the king’s assayer master, authorizing
such delivery.
The meltings are performed by contract with the mas¬
ter of the mint and his first clerk, as melter. He is re¬
sponsible to the master for all the bullion he receives, and
delivers weight for weight, which renders his situation one
of considerable risk and great responsibility. He also
finds security for the due performance of the duties of his
office.
The bars of silver of the approved standard are deliver¬
ed over to the moneyers, in the same manner as we have
detailed respecting gold. The moneyers also perform the
various processes of the coinage under contract with the
master of the mint, always delivering weight for weight.
They also give security for the due performance of the
duties of their office.
The first process to which the silver bars are subject¬
ed, is that of flatting, rolling, or laminating, in the rol¬
ling mill. The bars, before they are put through the
rollers, are heated to redness, which makes them much
easier rolled. They are heated in a reverberatory furnace.
Operation When the gold bars are subjected to the same process,
of rolling, they are rolled cold, and a bar of an inch thick can be
reduced to the thickness of a half sovereign without
ever being annealed, and may be reduced much thinner
if necessary, without showing the least symptom of crack¬
ing.
Fig. 6 is an elevation of one pair of rollers, and the wheel-
work for giving motion to them. A is the upper, and B
the lower roller; CC are the standards of the cast-iron
frame which supports them. Each of these standards has
an opening in it to receive the bearing brasses for the pivots
of the rollers. The upper roller is suspended in brasses,
which are regulated by the large screws FF, which admit of
placing the rollers at a greater or less distance asunder.
This is shown by the separate figure of one of the screws ;
hh are the brasses, and li the hole to receive the pivot of
the roller. On the upper part of the screw a collar/is
fitted, and from this two bolts gg descend, and are fas¬
tened to the brasses lih with nuts beneath. By these
the roller is suspended, but by turning the screw round,
the brasses rise or fall. The brasses hh are fitted very
accurately into the grooves or openings in the standards
CC.
For the convenience of turning both screws round toge¬
ther, each has a cog-wheel F fixed on the upper end of it.
These are turned by two worms HH, fixed on a common
axis, which has a handle G in front. See the plan, fig. 8.
By turning this handle the upper roller is either raised or
lowered as is required, but will always be parallel to the
lower one. The two standards CC are firmly bolted down
to the ground-sills DD, which are of cast iron, and are
bedded in the masonry EE. The standards are farther
united by bolts a. At the upper part S is a cross bar fix¬
ed between the standards, to support a small table or plat¬
form, on which the metal is placed when it is to be pre¬
sented to the rollers.
The rollers are put in motion by a steam-engine. The
crank of the engine has a cog-wheel upon it, which turns a
pinion. Upon the axis of this is a very heavy fly-wheel,
which turns with great velocity. On the end of the same
axis is a pinion which turns a large wheel M, and this
gives motion to a long shaft NN, which extends beneath
the rollers, and is continued a sufficient distance in the
same direction, to turn two pair ot rollers, one of which
only is represented in the drawing. At L a wheel is
fixed on this shaft to turn the upper roller A, by means
of a wheel K, which is supported in the standards hh, and Coin I
its axis is connected with a short shaft rlr, with the square
on the end of the roller A; rr are the sockets by which
the shafts are joined, and they admit of a little yielding
when the roller is raised.
The wheel O is fixed on the shaft N, to turn the lower
roller B, by means of the wheel P ; but the wheels P and
O do not touch, being of smaller diameters, and an inter¬
mediate wheel is applied on one side, so that its teeth en¬
gage with both the wheels O and P. By this means the two
rollers A and B are made to turn round in opposite di¬
rections, and then their adjacent surfaces will move toge¬
ther. The wheel P is supported in standards jpp, and its
axis R is connected by a shaft Q with the lower rol¬
ler B.
Fig. 7 is a gauge to ascertain the thickness of the plates,
which are reduced by the operation of the rollers. It con¬
sists of two steel rulers, fixed fast together at one end, and
the other end is a certain distance asunder, forming an
opening between them, which gradually diminishes to no¬
thing. The sides of the rulers are divided. In using this
gauge to determine the thickness of a piece of plate, the
edge of the plate is applied to the opening between the
rulers, and the divisions of the rulers show the distance it
will go into the opening before it fits tight, and the thick¬
ness is ascertained by the number of the divisions.
Plate CLXXI., figs. 3 and 4, represent the machine by
which the plates of metal from the rolling-mill are cut
into slips of a convenient width for cutting out the circu¬
lar pieces or blanks which are to form the coin. This
width is generally that of two crowns, two half crowns,
shillings, &c.
LL is a strong iron frame, which is screwed down to
the ground-sills of the mill, so that the cog-wheel D will
be immediately over the shaft which turns the rolling-mill,
and can be turned by a cog-wheel upon that shaft. The
cog-wheel D is fixed upon an horizontal axis BB, which
is supported in the frame LL. AA is a similar axis placed
at the top of the frame, and turned round by a cog-wheel
C, which engages with the wheel D. On the extreme
end of each axis A and B a wheel or circular cutters E
and F is fixed. The edges of these cutters lie in close
contact laterally, and overlap each other a little. The
edges of the cutters are made of steel hardened, and they
are turned very truly circular, and the edges which over¬
lap are made very true and square. Whilst they are turn¬
ing round, if the edge of a plate of metal is presented to
them, it will be cut or divided just in the same manner as
a pair of shears. H is a narrow shelf, upon which the
plate is supported when it is pushed forwards to be cut,
and G is a guide fixed upon the shelf; the edge of the
plate of metal is applied against this guide, whilst it is
moved forwards to the cutters. The guide is moveable,
and the distance which it stands back from the cutting
edges, or line of contact of the two cutters, EF, deter¬
mines the breadth of the slip of metal which will be cut
off.
To give these slips of metal the exact thickness which
is requisite before they are cut up into blocks, they are
subjected to a more delicate rolling, or they are drawn be¬
tween dies by a machine invented by Mr Barton, the pre¬
sent comptroller of the mint.
Fig. 7, Plate CLXXI., represents the finishing rollers,
viewed at the end of the frame in order to show the man¬
ner of adjusting them; for it is only in those parts that they
differ from the great rollers, a is one of the pivots or cen¬
tres of the upper roller; it is accurately fitted in a collar
of brasses, which collar is held down in a cell at the top of
the standard by a cap d, with two bolts and nuts. These
are not intended for the adjustment of the rollers, as in the
COINAGE.
age. former instance, but the lower roller is moved for this pur¬
pose. The pivot b of the lower roller is received in a brass
bearing, which is moveable in the opening in the standard
frame. The brass rests upon a wedge e, which is fitted in
a cross mortise through the standard. By forcing the
wedge farther in the brass of the lower roller, it will be
moved nearer to the upper roller. The standard at the
other end of the rollers is made in the same manner, and
the wedges of both must be moved at the same time. To
give them motion, a screw /is fitted into each wedge, and
upon these screws are worm-wheels g, which are both
moved by worms cut upon an horizontal axis, then extends
across from one side of the frame to the other, and has a
handle at the end to turn it round by, and move the screws
and wedges both in equal quantity ; l is the table on which
the metal is laid, to present it to the rollers.
Plate CLXX. contains drawings of Mr Barton’s new
machine for drawing the slips of metal between dies, by
which a greater degree of accuracy is obtained in the
thickness of the metal; the operation is similar to wire
drawing.
Figs. 1, 2, and 3 repres^yt a small machine for thinning
the ends of the slips of metal, so that they will enter into
the dies through which the whole of the slip is to be
drawn. It is a small pair of rollers, which are shown on a
large scale in fig. 1 ; A is the upper roller, and B the low¬
er; this has three flat sides, as represented; C is the slip
of metal put between the rollers; D is a stop adjustable
in the line of the motion of the slip of metal C. Fig. 2 is
an end view, and fig. 3 a side view of the frame or machine
in which the rollers are mounted. AB are the rollers,
which are made to turn round together by pinions a 6. F
is a large cog-wheel, which is fixed on the end of the axis
of the lower roller. This cog-wheel is turned by a pinion
G, which is fixed on an axis extended across the machine,
and having a fly-wheel fixed on one end, and at the other
a drum H, to receive an endless strap, by which the ma¬
chine is put in motion ; a crank is formed on the middle of
this axis, and a rod d is joined to the crank to connect it
with the moving blade K of a pair of shears, of which the
other blade L is fixed to the frame. The distance of the
rollers is regulated by a screw ee at the top of each stand¬
ard. These screws have pinions at the top of them, and
are turned round by a pinion which is placed between
them, and engages the teeth of both pinions, so as to give
motion to the two screws at the same time, when the mid¬
dle wheel is turned round by a cross handle which is fixed
to the top of it. If the slips of metal which are to be put
in this machine are not exactly square at the ends, they
are cut off smooth and square by the shears, which keep
constantly moving. rIhe end of the slip is then presented
between the rollers, not on that side which would draw
them in between the rollers, as in common rolling, but on
the opposite side ; when one of the flat sides of the lower
roller comes opposite to the upper roller, then the piece
of metal can be pushed forwards between the two, until
the end stops against the stop D, as in fig. 1 ; then, as
the rollers turn round, and the flat side of the lower rol¬
ler passes by, the cylindrical parts of the roller will
take the metal between, and roll it thinner at the end
which is between the stops and the point of contact of
the rollers.
tig. 5 is a perspective view of the drawing machine at
work.
tig. 7 and 8, a section to show how the slip of metal C
is drawn between the dies by the tongs, fig. 7.
Fig. 4 is a section of the steel dies. They are two cy¬
linders AB of steel, made very hard and extremely true;
these are fitted into two sliders DD, and are held fast by
clamp pieces EE screwed against them. The steel cylin-
VOL. VII.
49
ders are very accurately fitted into their beds in the slides, Coinage,
so that the steel shall be firmly supported and prevented
from bending or turning round, and presenting but a small
portion of their circumference against the slip of metal.
I he sliders D are fitted into a box, fig. 8 and 9; they fit
flat on the bottom of the box, and two clamps FF are
screwed against the sliders, to confine them to the box.
The lower slider is supported by two screwsj/ and the
upper slider is forced down by a large screw G; this has
a cog-wheel fixed on the top of it, with a pinion and lever
to turn the screws round very slowly, and regulate the
distance between the dies. H is a clamping nut, fitted
upon the screw to take off all possibility of shake; the
sliders are also bound fast sidewise, by screws tapped
through the sides of the box, the points of which press
upon steel plates between them and the sliders. In order
to render the contact between the points of the screws,
supporting the under slider and the point of the adjusting
screw, forcing the upper slider, still more complete, two
extending screws are introduced at the ends of the steel
dies between the sliders, by which a sufficient degree of
contact, to overcome the spring of the materials, may be
excited before the dies come into action on the slip of the
metal.
The box of dies is fixed at one end of a long frame, as
is shown in fig. 5. This frame supports two axes AA, one
at each end. Upon these axes wheels are fixed to receive
endless chains BB, which move along a sort of trough or
railway, formed on the top of the frame. The chains are
kept in motion by a cog-wheel C, which is fixed upon the
axis most remote from the box of dies. This cog-wheel is
turned by a pinion D, on the axis of which is a wheel E;
and this wheel is turned by a pinion F, on the axis of the
drum G, which is moved by an endless band proceeding
from some of the wheels in the mill, and which is thrown
in and out of geer at pleasure by a tightening roller. The
slip of metal is drawn through the dies by the chain, with
a pair of tongs, fig. 6 and 7; and ab are the two jaws of the
tongs, which are united with each other by the joint pin
c. This has a small roller or wheel fitted on each end, to
run upon the railway on the top of the frame; dd are a
similar pair of wheels, the axle of which is connected
with two links ee ; this axle passes between the tails of
the tongs, but is not fixed to them. The ends of the links
have a double hook formed on them, as shown at fig. 7.
The tongs run upon their wheels immediately over the
endless chain; so that when the end/ of the links ee is
pressed down, one of the hooks catches on a cross pin of
the chain, as in fig. 7. The axle of the wheels dd, acting
between the inclined parts of the tails of the tongs, tends
to throw them asunder, and, at the same time, the jaws of
the tongs bite with very great force; the links ee draw
the tongs along with the chain BB. The links are car¬
ried a long way beyond the axle of the wheels, and have
a sufficient weight h fastened to them, which will lift up
the hooked end/ and disengage it from the chain, except
when there is a considerable strain on the tongs.
To use this machine, a boy takes hold of the tongs by the
handle r, when they are disengaged from the chain, and
pushes the tongs forward towards the box of dies. The
tongs run freely upon their wheels, and the jaws open
when moved in that direction, because two small pins ii are
fixed across between the links, and, acting on the outsides
of the tails of the tongs, close them together; and this at
the same time opens the jaws. The tongs are pushed up
close to the box of dies, and the jaws enter into a recess
N, fig. 8, which is formed for that purpose. Another boy
takes a slip of metal, which is previously made thin by the
rollers fig. 1, and introduces it between the dies, and also
between the jaws of the tongs, which are open. The boy
G
50
COINAGE.
Coinage.
who holds the tongs now takes the handle s, which is fixed
on the back of the tongs, and holds it fast, whilst with the
other hand he draws the handle r, at the end of the links,
away from the tongs. This has the effect of closing the
jaws of the tongs upon the slip of metal between them.
At the same time he depresses the handle r, and the hook
at the end of the links ee will be caught by the first cross
pin of the chain, which comes beneath them. This puts
the tongs in motion ; but the first action is to close the
jaws and bite the piece of metal with great force, in con¬
sequence of the axletree of the wheels being placed be¬
tween the inclined planes of the tongs. When the tongs
have closed on the metal with all their force, they move
with the chain, and draw the slips of metal through the
dies, which operating upon the thicker parts of the slip
with greater effect than upon the thin, reduces the whole
to an equable thickness. When the whole length is drawn
through, the strain upon the tongs is instantly released;
and the weight lifting up the hook at the other end of the
links, they are ready to be advanced again to the dies, to
draw another bar. The frame, fig. 5, contains two pair of
dies, and the same wheel serves for both. At the mint
are two machines like that shown in fig. 5. Ihey are
placed side by side, with a sufficient space for the boys to
work between them.
These machines were made by Mr Maudslay, under the
directions of the inventor.
The slips of metal produced from this machine are con¬
siderably more uniform in thickness than when finished at
the adjusting rollers; consequently the individual pieces
are made more nearly to the standard weight, which was
the object contemplated in the invention. This has become
a point of great importance in the practice of the mint,
from the remedy on gold in weight being reduced irom
forty to twelve Troy grains. When the pieces cut from
slips of metal prepared by the drawing-machine are pound¬
ed and weighed, which is telling the number of pieces in
a pound Troy, sovereigns or half sovereigns, the variations
from standard either way seldom exceed three grains Troy.
It is reckoned good work from the adjusting rollers when
the variations are under six Troy grains.
The plates of metal, prepared by the adjusting rollers or
the drawing-machine, are cut out into circular pieces near¬
ly of the size of the intended coin. This is done by the
cutting-out press, fig. 1, Plate CLXXI. CCCP is a cast-
iron frame, which is fitted on a stone basement. P is the
screw, which is fitted through the top of the frame, and
actuates a slider F. At the lower end of the slider a steel
punch a is fixed. Its diameter is exactly equal to that of
the pieces which are to be cut out. c is the steel die, which
has a hole in it of a proper size to fit the steel punch ; d is
a box with screws for adjusting the die, so that the hole
in it will be exactly beneath the punch.
The slider F is fitted into a socket G, which guides it
so that it will descend correctly into the hole in the die.
6 is a piece of iron, which is fixed a small distance above
the die c; it has a hole through to admit the punch. Its
use is to hold down the piece of metal when the punch
rises, otherwise the piece would stick to the punch.
On the upper end of the screw a piece Q is fixed, and
an arm projects from it with a weight P at the end; and
it is this weight which gives the necessary momentum to
punch out the piece. D is a spindle fixed upon the piece
Q in the line of the screw; it is supported in a collar A
at the upper end, and above the collar a lever DG! is fix¬
ed; at one extremity of this lever a roller F is fixed, and
this is acted upon by projecting teeth, which are fixed in
the rim of a large horizontal wheel, which is turned round
by the power of the mill. This action is explained by fig. 2,
which is an horizontal plan of the upper part of the axis.
SS is part of the rim of the large wheel, and T one of the Coins
projecting cogs, which, when the wheel turns in the di-
rection of the arrow, will take the roller F, at the end of
the lever FD, and turn the lever round in that direction,
which will wind up the screw and raise the punch out of
the die. Also this action draws a rod II, which is con¬
nected with the lever by a joint; the other end ot this rod
is connected with a bended lever, from the other arm of
which a rod descends and has a piston fixed to it. T-his
piston is fitted into a close cylinder; hence, when the pis¬
ton is drawn up, it makes a vacuum in the cylinder, and
the pressure of the atmosphere on the piston causes a re¬
action ; and the instant that the roller F escapes or slips
off from the tooth T, the re-action of the piston draws the
joint FI back, and makes the screw turn round in that di¬
rection, which causes the punch to descend into the die ;
and it will pierce out a piece from a plate of silver or gold
which is laid upon the die, which piece will be exactly the
size of the punch, which, as before mentioned, is the same
as the intended piece of money. When the machine re¬
quires to be stopped, a catch K is suffered to rise up and
hook the lever G, so that it cannot return by the action of
the exhausted cylinder and pierce the plate. This catch
is shown in fig. 8. At K it is moveable on a joint l, and is
thrown upwards by a spring k. To this spring a cord O
is fastened, and the lower end of the cord has a treadle
fastened to it. The boy who applies the plates of metal
to this machine places his foot upon the treadle, and draws
down the spring and the catch K, and then the machine
will make a cut every time that a cog T of the great wheel
S passes by ; but if the boy relieves the treadle, then the
spring k lifts up the catch K, as in fig. 8; and when the
end of the lever G comes over the catch, it will be caught
thereby, and held fast from returning by the action of
the exhausted cylinder. The joint l of the catch K is
made at the top of a long lever /N, of which m is the cen¬
tre pin, when the lever G is detained by the catch K;
if the end N of the lever is drawn towards fig. 1, it draws
the lever G still farther, so that the roller F will be raised
quite clear of the tooth T of the great wheel, and pre¬
vents any unnecessary wear of the machinery when the
process is stopped.
Twelve of the cutting-out presses, fig. 1, are arranged
in a circle round the great wheel SS, which is turned by
a steam-engine, and has a large fly-wheel fixed upon the
same axis, just above the wheel S, to regulate the motion.
The stone basement on which the presses are fixed is cir¬
cular, and the bearing A are all fixed in a circular iron
frame, which is erected upon the stone basement, by an
iron column placed between each press. The whole forms
a very handsome colonnade, and is placed in the centre
of a circular room, which is lighted by a sky-light in the
dome. The air-cylinders are concealed within hollow pi¬
lasters, which ornament the walls of the room, and appear
to support the dome. I he rod H is jointed to a piece h,
which is fitted to slide upon the lever FG, and is moved
by the screw I, so as to be fixed at any required distance
from the centre, and give a greater or lesser effect to the
re-action of the exhausted cylinder. R, fig. 1, is a strong
wooden spring, against which the balance-weight P strikes
to stop its motion, when it has made its required stroke to
pierce the plate.
This cutting-out machine was invented by the celebrat¬
ed Matthew Boulton of Soho, who had a patent for it in
1790, and prepared it at that time for working the coining
or striking presses; but having invented a better method
of working the latter, he confined this plan to the smaller
presses for cutting out the blanks.
The blanks, after being cut out by the last-mentioned
machine, are carried to the sizing-room, where each indi-
COINAGE.
51
ina^e. vidual piece is adjusted to its standard weight. The light
pieces are selected for re-melting; and the heavy ones,
if not considerably beyond weight, are reduced to their
standard weight by rasping their surfaces witli a coarse
rasp or file. The superior accuracy of Mr Barton’s beau¬
tiful machine has considerably abridged the labour of this
inelegant and unmechanical process.
The pieces thus adjusted are in a state of great hard¬
ness from compression by the rolling and drawing pro¬
cesses, and by which, in fact, their latent heat has been
squeezed out. They attain their softness again by being
heated to a cherry-red heat in a reverberatory furnace;
after which they are boiled in very weak sulphuric acid,
which makes them very clean, and of a very white colour.
When dried, either in warm saw dust or over a very slow
fire, they are in a state for the two next processes, which
are the milling and the coining or stamping.
( oration The operation of milling is to be performed round the
(Inilling. edge, to prevent their being clipped or filed, which was a
fraud commonly practised upon the ancient money made
before the introduction of milling or lettering round the
edge. The construction of the milling-machine will be
easily understood from the inspection of fig. 5 and 6,
Plate CLXXI.; fig. 5 being an elevation, and fig. 6 a plan,
of the same. The parts which operate upon the piece of
money consist of two steel bars or rulers, dd and ee, the
adjacent edges of which are cut or fluted. The bar ee is
immoveable, being fastened down by two clamps hh to a
cast-iron plate DD, forming the base of the whole ma¬
chine ; the other bar dd is prevented from rising by the
pieces gg, but has the liberty of moving backwards and
forwards in the direction of its length, and is guided in
such motion by laying half its thickness in a groove formed
in the plate DD. A rack CC is fixed to the moving ruler,
which engages in the teeth of the wheel B, mounted on
an axis lying across at right angles to the ruler, and sup¬
ported at its ends by two standards rising up from the
plate DD. On one end of the axis a handle is fixed, for
giving motion to the machine. Two blanks are put into
the machine at the same time, as shown at fig. 6 ; and the
ruler ee can be made to approach nearer or recede farther
from the ruler dd by the two screws ff, to take in a dif¬
ferent sized piece between them. The operation of the
machine is very simple. Two blanks being placed between
the edges of the rulers, the handle A is turned round half
a turn, which moves the ruler dd endwise, sufficient to
mark the blank all round the edge. The two milled pieces
are then taken out, and two other blanks are placed be¬
tween the rulers; the handle A being turned half round in
an opposite direction, carries the ruler dd back again to
the position in which it first stood; thus two more blanks
are milled, and so on. The machine is placed upon a
strong wooden bench, to raise it to a convenient height for
the man who turns the handle; the blanks are placed in
the machine by a boy who is stationed on the opposite
side to that where the handle is.
I' eration Plate CLXXII. is the coining-press, which stamps the
i ' itamp- money. Fig. 1 is an elevation of the press; CC B is a strong
’■ cast-iron frame, which is firmly screwed down upon a stone
basement by the screws cc; the upper part B is perfo¬
rated perpendicularly to receive the screw DD. One of
the steel dies which strike the coin is fixed to the lower
end of this screw by a box 4, and the other die is fixed
in a box 6, which is fastened down upon the base of the
press. The heavy balance-weights RR are fixed on the
top of the screw, which, being turned round, presses the
upper die down upon the blank piece of coin which is
laid upon the lower die, and gives the impression, a suffi¬
cient force being obtained from the momentum of the load¬
ed arms RR. The motion is communicated to the screw by
a piece A, which aseends to the ceiling of the coining- Coinage,
room, and is worked by a steam-engine, with machinery,
in the apartment in the room over the coining-room.
Eight presses, similar to No. 1, are placed in a row upon
the stone basement, and very strong oak pillars are erect¬
ed upon the basement, and reach to the ceiling. Each
press is contained between four such pillars, and iron
braces are fixed horizontally from one pillar to another on
the opposite side. These braces support blocks of wood,
against which the ends R R of the arms strike, to stop
them from moving farther than necessary, as, without
such precaution, the hard steel dies would sometimes come
in contact and be broken. The piece of blank coin is con¬
tained within a steel ring or collar whilst it is stamped,
and this preserves its circular figure. The ring is shown
at a large size at W in fig. 5. V is a three-pronged
spring, which always bears the ring upwards ; the opening
through the ring W is made to fit upon the neck of the
lower die T, fig. 6. When the ring is dropped upon the
neck of the die, the upper surface of the ring and of the
die wall be in one plane. The ring admits of being raised
up upon the neck, and will then form a recess or cell,
which is just adapted to receive a piece of money. The col¬
lar W is made to rise and fall upon the neck of the die by
means of the levers GG, fig. 5 ; these are fitted upon
centre pins or joints in a large ring gg, which is placed on
the outside.of the box, fig. 6, containing the lower die T,
and is fixed fast upon it, as shown at 5 and 6, fig. 1, by
clamping the screws gg. The levers GG are forked at
the outer ends, to admit studs at the lower ends of iron
rods EE, which rise up through holes in the solid metal
of the press, and are united to a collar G, fitted on the
upper part of the screw D. When the screw of the press
is turned back, and the upper die is raised up, the rods
raise the outside ends of the short levers G, and the in¬
side ends depress the ring; a blank piece of money is
laid upon the die, and when the screw is turned to bring
the upper die down upon it, ready to stamp the impres¬
sion, the levers G are released, and the triple spring V
lifts the collar up, so that it surrounds the piece of money;
and in this state the blow is struck. Immediately after,
the press returns by its recoil, and then the levers G force
the collar down upon the neck of the die, and leave the
piece free. The lower die is fixed in a box, fig. 6, by four
screws tt, which admit of adjusting it with precision be¬
neath the upper die. The box, fig. G, is screwed down
upon the base of the press by four screws. The upper
die is shown at S, fig. 3, which explains how it is fastened
to the screw ; vv are four screws, by which the die is held
in a box, fig. 3. The box is fitted into a ring or collar, as
shown by the dotted lines F; see also fig. 1. The arms
of the collar F are attached to the rods EE, by two nuts
at each end, and this makes the collar F and the box 3
always follow the screw, and keep a close contact with the
end of the screw, which enters into a cell in the top of the
box, fig. 3, but leaves the screw at liberty to turn round
independently of the box.
Fig. 2 is a ring, which is fastened by its screws wiv to
the screw of the press ; a claw V descends from the ring,
and enters into the cavity o, in the edge of the box, fig. 3,
which cavity is near three times as wide as the claw V,
and therefore allows the screw to turn round for a certain
distance without turning the box, fig. 3; but beyond the
limits of this motion the screw and die will turn round to¬
gether. The intention of this is to press the upper die
down upon the coin with a twisting or screwing motion ;
but if the die was to rise up with a similar motion, it
would abrade and destroy the fine impression ; for this
reason the notch o is so wide as to allow the screw to re¬
turn, and raise the die from immediate contact with the
COINAGE.
52
Coinage, coin before it shall begin to turn round with the same
motion as the screw.
Fig. 4 is a box which is screwed over the box for the
upper die, as shown in fig. 1, in order to keep the upper
die firm in its cell.
The great screw of the press is made cylindrical at the
upper and lower ends, where it is seen at DD, fig. 1, and
these ends are accurately fitted in collars, which are bound
tight by the screws aa; the real screw or worm part,
concealed within the solid metal B, has no other office
than to force the die down, the guidance laterally being
effected by the collars aa.
It now remains to show how the press is made to re¬
move every piece of money which it strikes, and to feed
itself with a fresh blank piece.
Fig. 1, HIK, is a lever, of which I is the fulcrum ; it is
supported on a bar Q, fixed vertically from the cheek of
the press, and steadied by a brace h. The upper end of
the lever is actuated by a sector 7, see fig. 7, which is
fixed upon the screw D. When the screw turns round,
the groove in the sector, being of a spiral curve, will move
the end H of the lever to and from the screw; and the
lower end K of the lever being longer, it moves a consider¬
able distance to and from the centre of the press. 6 is a
socket or groove in a piece of metal, which is fixed to the
perpendicular bar Q, and the upper end of the lever H is
guided in this groove, to prevent any lateral deviation.
The lever K gives motion to a slider L, fig. 8, which is
supported in a socket O, screwed against the inside cheek
of the press, and the slider 8 is directed exactly to the
centre of the press, and on the level of the upper surface
of the die.
Figs. 8, 9, and 10, represent three views of the slider
and socket. NMO is a kind of trough or socket in which
the slider runs. This slider is formed of two pieces hollow¬
ed out on the sides, which are put together; and the two
pieces are held together by screws. O is the part by
which the socket is fastened to the press. The slider is
a thin steel plate jo, see also fig. 10; it is made in two
pieces, P and p, which are united by the joint q. The
extreme end is made with a circular cavity; and, when
the two limbs shut together as represented, they will
grasp a piece of money between them, and hold it by the
edge; but if the limbs are separated, the piece will drop
out. The limb p of the slider is opened or shut by the
same movement which moves the slider endwise in its
socket. Thus a plate L is applied flat beneath the socket
MN, and has an edge turning up and applying to the up¬
right edge of the socket. A pin is fixed into this edge,
and is embraced by the fork at the lower end of the lever
K, fig. 1. By this means the sliding piece L is made to
move on the outside of the socket N. It is kept in its
place by a fillet k, fig. 9, which is screwed to the upright
edge of L, and the fillet enters a groove formed along the
upper surface of the socket N.
The sliding piece L is made to move the steel slider
within the socket by means of three studs, which project
upwards from the bottom plate of L, fig. 10, at rrs, and pass
through grooves in the bottom plate of the slider, so as to
act upon the steel slider P in the manner shown at fig. 10.
The left-hand piece r is received into an opening in the
middle of the slider P, fig. 10. The other two studs r and
s include the shank of the limb between them, and these
studs are cut inclined, so that when the piece L is moved
to the right, the studs rs will close the limb p until they
are shut, and then the studs will carry the slider forward ;
but if the sliding piece L is moved to the left, its studs
will first close the limbs, and will then draw back the
slider. On the top of the socket N a tube M is placed,
and it is filled with blank pieces of coin. The tube is open
at the bottom to the slider, and the pieces rest upon it. CoW-
When the screw of the press is screwed down, the slider -yv ^
P draws back to its farthest extent, and the circle form¬
ed at the end between its limbs comes exactly beneath
the tube M; the limbs being open, a blank piece of coin
drops down into the circle of the slider, then the screw
of the press, in returning, moves the lever HIK and the
piece L ; this acts by its studs upon the moveable limb jo,
and closes it upon the blank piece; the studs having now
found a re-action, push the slider P forwards in its socket,
and carry the piece forward upon the die, as shown in fig.
1, and which will push off the piece last struck. The
screw having now arrived at its highest position, begins
to descend, and the slider L to return ; but the first ac¬
tion of the studs of the sliding piece L is to open the limb
p, and then the slider withdraws, leaving the piece of
money placed upon the die. As the screw of the press
descends, the ring W, fig. 5, rises up to inclose the piece,
as before mentioned, whilst it receives the stroke, and the
slider P at the same time returns to take another piece
from the tube M in the same manner, as before described.
Fig. 11 is a section to show the manner of mounting the
lower die for a coining press. This is used in the French
mint. V is a piece of metal or box as it is placed upon
the base of the press, and held down by a ring with screws
t; this holds it fast, but admits of lateral adjustment. In
the top of the box is a hemispherical cavity to receive the
hemisphere W; the upper side is flat, and the die T is
placed upon it to hold the die down ; it has a small pro¬
jecting rim at the lower edge, and a rim X is screwed
upon the outer edge of the box V, and binds the die down.
The object of this plan is, that the die may always bear
fairly to the money which is to strike.
Fig. 12 and 13 are a divided collar invented by Mr Droz
for striking money with the letters round the edge. X is
a very strong piece of iron, which has a circular opening
through the centre. Into this six segments ww are fitted,
and between them they leave an opening W, the size of
the piece of money. The interior edges of these segments
are engraved with the pattern or device which it is re¬
quired to impress upon the edge of the piece. The seg¬
ments are fitted in the piece X by centre pins r/, fig. 12,
upon one of which pins each segment can rise in the man¬
ner of a centre.
The intention of this is to have a piece of money placed
on the die within the space W; then, when the pressure
is made upon the piece, the die descends some space, and
by this motion the segments close together around the
edge piece, and imprint on the edge of it. When all the
segments come into one plane, the die arrives at a firm
seat, and the metal receives the stroke which makes the
impression on its sftrfaces. The die is suspended in a
sort of cup, which rises and falls with the screw, nearly
the same as the collar F in fig. 1.
The coining room is under the superintendence of the j)iSp0Saic
surveyor of the money presses, whose duties we have al- the coinei
ready described. The money when struck is inspected pieces,
under his directions, and passed through tubes of the dia¬
meter of the different species, which readily detects any
pieces which may have been improperly struck. The
moneyers cannot coin but in his presence, as he has every
press under lock and key.
The money when examined is weighed up in journey
weights for delivery to the importers of the bullion ; the
gold in 15 lbs., the silver in 60 lbs. Troy.
Before this money, however, is delivered to the import-process of
ers, it is carried to the mint office to undergo inspection, pixing.
and to be pixed. The inspector examines the coin as to
its workmanship, and may reject it if faulty. The process
of pixing is more important, as by it the perfection of
COINAGE.
53
the money as to weight and fineness is determined be¬
fore it is delivered to the importers. The process of pix-
ing, as it is called, consists in taking from every journey
weight of gold and silver a pound in tale promiscuously
by the weigher and teller. This is weighed in a very
accurate balance by the king's assayer master, who de¬
clares aloud the minus or plus upon each lb., and which is
recorded by the comptroller, king's clerk, and king’s assay-
master. This determines whether the company of mo-
neyers have made the money within the remedy allowed
upon the pound Troy. As the remedy, however, upon
the pound Troy is divided among the number of pieces in
it, the same pound weighed is handed to the comptroller,
who in a delicate balance weighs several pieces indivi¬
dually ; and, if they exceeded the remedy, he could, in
conjunction with the other check officers, order the coin
to be remelted and recoined at the expense of the money-
ers. From the same pound weight of silver or gold the
comptroller takes two pieces; the one for the king’s as¬
sayer master to assay, in order to prove that the company of
moneyers have in no way or degree deteriorated the qua¬
lity of silver or gold in any of their processes, or from the
time of its having come into their possession. The other
piece is ensealed in a packet, and put into a box, called a
pix box, which is locked up under the separate keys of
the said officers, there to remain until the final trial of the
pix by jury before the king, or such of his council as are
usually appointed at Westminster or elsewhere for that
purpose. When the king’s assay-master has proved the
piece delivered to him to be of the right standard, which,
in this case, is taken as the average of the whole jour¬
ney weight, he authorizes the money to be delivered to
the importers of the bullion. During the period, how¬
ever, in which the assay is making, the money is depo¬
sited in the strong room of the mint treasury, under the
separate keys of the master, comptroller, and company of
moneyers. The money is delivered over to the importers
by the weigher and teller, and in the presence of the mas¬
ter, comptroller, king’s clerk, and one of the moneyers;
the master receiving a receipt for the same, as described
in the duties of the deputy-master and workers.
As the trial of the pix at Westminster is very ancient
and curious, and though done in an open court is yet so
little known, it may not be uninteresting to trace it from
the earliest period in which it is to be found in our record,
to state the changes which it has undergone, and the
manner in which it is conducted in the present times.
The Rev. R. Rudding, to whom we acknowledge our¬
selves highly indebted for much valuable information in
the preceding pages, gives the following account of the
trial of the pix.
“ It does not appear that the ancients had any such
public trial; and the earliest notice of the pix which I
have met with in any modern foreign mint is in the reign
of Philip VI. of France, in the fourteenth century; but
whether the passage in which it occurs relates to a pub¬
lic trial, cannot be determined.
“ The invention of it in this kingdom, or at least its in¬
troduction into our courts, is probabty of high antiquity ;
for in the 9th or 10th of Edward I. it is mentioned as a
mode well known, and of common usage. In one of those
years, the king, by his writ, commanded the barons of the
exchequer to take with them Gregory de Rokesle (then
master of the mint), and straightway, before they retired
from the exchequer, to open the boxes of the assay of
London and Canterbury, and to make the assay, in such
manner as the king’s council were wont to do* and to take
an account thereof, so that they might be able to certify
the king touching the same, whenever he should please.
“ From this record, which is the most ancient hitherto
discovered relating to this trial, it appears that, previous Coinage,
to the above date, it had usually been made before the
king’s council, but that, by the authority of the writ above
quoted, it was then to be held in the court of exchequer,
in the presence of the barons. It was afterwards taken
from their cognizance, and came again under the power of
the lords of the council in the star chamber, where it is
found to have been in the year 1595 (as appears from a
verdict of that date), and w here it continued until 1699,
when it again became subject to the court of exchequer,
under which it has remained to the present time.
“ From memoranda of assays which are still preserved
in that court, it seems that this trial used to be annually;
and the same is stated to have been the regular practice
until the usurpation, when it was held at such times as
the state pleased. At present I believe it is not custom¬
ary for the master to require it to be held until, upon his
removal from the office, it becomes necessary, in order
that he may receive his quietus.
“ As the authority under which these trials are held
occasionally varied, so did likewise the persons who sat as
judges in the court. Thus, as we have seen above, they
were first the members of the king’s council, then the
barons of the exchequer, and again the members of the
privy council, as judges of the star chamber, where some¬
times the king himself presided; as did James I. at an
assay which was made upon the 9th May 1611.
“ In 1643, a committee of lords and commons was ap¬
pointed by order of parliament, for the purpose of making
this trial.
“ At one period (in 1649), the court was held before
the lord president of the council of state, the commis¬
sioners of the great seal, and others of the council of state,
and committee of revenue, by virtue of an act of parlia¬
ment; at another (in 1657) by the lords commissioners of
the treasury, the justices of the several benches, and ba¬
rons of the exchequer, or some of them, under the autho¬
rity of a warrant signed by the protector Cromwell; and
it is now composed of such members of the privy council
as are expressly summoned for that purpose; the lord
high chancellor, or, in his absence, the chancellor of the
exchequer, presiding.
“ The manner in which this trial was formerly conduct¬
ed in the court of exchequer appears, from a verdict of the
11th year of Henry VI. to have been by an assay, made
in the presence of the court, atid of other persons who
were appointed to assist, by the king’s assay-master, and
to have been determined without the intervention of a
Jury-
“ The earliest notice which has occurred, in which the
judgment of professional artists was required to sanction,
as a jury, the judgment of the court, is dated in the 37th
of Elizabeth, when a trial was held in the star chamber.
“ The number of the jurors has occasionally varied con¬
siderably. No less than nineteen names appear to the ver¬
dict of the 37th of Elizabeth ; and in 1651 the moneyers
speak of a jury of twenty-four men, whilst the number
usual at the present time is no more than twelve.
“ As I have not been able to discover any ancient cere¬
monial by which the forms of this trial were regulated, I
must now proceed to state the modern practice of sum¬
moning the court, and conducting the business of it.
“ Upon a memorial being presented by the master of
the mint, praying for a trial of the pix, the chancellor of
the exchequer moves his majesty in council to that pur¬
pose. A summons is then issued to certain members of
the privy council, to meet at the house which is now al¬
lotted to the office of receiver of the fees in his majesty’s
exchequer, at eleven o’clock in the forenoon on a certain
day. A precept is likewise directed by the lord high
C O K
chancellor to the wardens of the goldsmiths’ company,
requiring them to nominate and set down the names of a
competent number of sufficient and able freemen of their
company, skilful to judge of and to present the defaults
of the coins, if any should be found, to be of the jury, to
attend at the same time and place. This number is usu¬
ally twenty-five, of which the assay-master of the com¬
pany is always one.
“ When the court is formed, the clerk of the gold¬
smiths’ company returns the precept, together with the
list of names-; the jury is called over, and twelve persons
are sworn. The president then gives his charge, which
was formerly to be general, like the oath, to examine by
fire, by water, by touch, or by weight, or by all or by
some of them, in the most just manner, whether the mo¬
nies were made according to the indenture, and standaid
trial pieces, and within the remedies. But in 1754 the lord
high chancellor Talbot directed the jury to express pie-
cisely how much the money was within the remedies, and
the practice which he thus enjoined is still continued.
The other parts of the charge necessarily vary, according
to the ability of .the president, and his knowledge of the
subject. ..... . , .
“ When it is concluded, the pix is delivered to the jury,
and the court is commonly adjourned to the house of the
president, where the verdict is afterwards delivered.
“ The jury then retire to the court-room of the duchy
of Lancaster, whither the pix is removed, together with
the weights of the exchequer and mint, and where the
scales which arc used upon this occasion are suspended,
the beam of which is so delicate that it will turn with
six grains when loaded with the whole of those weights,
to the amount of 48 lb. 8 ounces in each scale.
“ The jury being seated, the indenture, or the warrant
under which the master has acted, is read. Then the pix
is opened, and the money which had been taken out of
each delivery, and inclosed in a paper parcel, under the
seals of the warden, master, and comptroller of the mint,
is given into the hands of the foreman, who reads aloud
the indorsement, and compares it with the account which
lies before him. He then delivers the parcel to one of
the jury, who opens it and examines whether the contents
agree with the indorsement.
“ When all the parcels have been opened and found to
be right, the monies contained in them are mixed toge¬
ther in wooden bowls, and afterwards weighed.
“ Out of the said monies so mingled the jury take a
certain number of each species of coin, to the amount oi
one pound weight, for the assay by fire ; and the indented
trial pieces of gold and silver, of the dates specified in the
indenture, being produced by the proper officer, a sufficient
quantity is cut from either of them, for the purpose of
comparing with it the pound weight of gold or silver which
is to be tried (after it had been previously melted and
prepared) by the usual methods of assay.
“ When that operation is finished, the jury return their
verdict, wherein they state the manner in which the coins
C O K
they have examined have been found to vary from the Coina^
weight and fineness required by the indenture, and whe¬
ther and how much the variations exceed or fall short of
the remedies which are allowed; and, according to the
terms of the verdict, the master’s quietus is either granted
or withheld.” {ArchcEologia, vol. xvi.)
We shall conclude our observations upon the subject of Method
coinage by detailing the mode of manufacturing the dies.™al'ingt;
An original die is engraven upon a piece of soft cast steel, ies'
of the size of the money to be made. The table of the
die must be perfectly level or square. The impression
engraved is, of course, cut into the steel, and its depth in
proportion to the relief ultimately wanted upon the coin.
When the engraving is finished, the die, or matrix as it
is called, is hardened. This is a very nice process, and
requires considerable care to perform it. The die is put
into a cast-iron pot, completely embedded in animal char¬
coal, chiefly made from leather. The pot is placed in an
air furnace in which coke is burned, which gives a more
steady and uniform degree of heat. The square of the
furnace is also considerably larger than the pot, that the
die may have the greatest possible equality of tempera¬
ture. When the die has attained its proper degree of
heat, it is withdrawn from the furnace, and immersed in
a large cistern of water, the temperature of which is kept
as uniform as possible by a stream of cold water con¬
stantly flowing in and out of the cistern while the process
of hardening continues. It frequently happens, that, in
this process, either from the steel being faulty or heated
to excess, the die flies in pieces, and the whole labour
of the artist is lost. When, however, the matrix is per¬
fect, it is placed in the multiplying die press, which works
in everv respect like a coining press, but is moved by men.
An impression is taken from the matrix upon a blank die
of cast steel, similar to the mode of impressing the mo¬
ney. The blank die is fixed as the lower die of the coin¬
ing press ; and, by working the screw of the press, which
has very long and heavdy loaded arms, the matrix is made
to strike the"blank die with great force, and bring its im¬
pression in relief upon its surface. The hardness, by com¬
pression of the steel, is so great that an impression of the
matrix cannot be obtained without annealing the die per¬
haps twice or thrice, which is done in iron pots, as in the
case of hardening, but they are allowed to cool gradually.
An impression taken in this way is called a puncheon day
When the engraver has given all the delicate outlines of
the original to it, it is hardened in the same manner as its
original, and used to give impressions to blank dies by a
similar process, the impression being sunk into the dies,
which dies being used for coinage, give the impression
in relief to the money.
This important department of the mint is under the su¬
perintendence of the clerk of the irons, who never suffers
the multiplying press to be used except in his presence.
He has also the care of all the dies, and must account to
the board of management for all matrixes, puncheons, and
dies, made and destroyed in the mint. (e. e.)
COKE, Sir Edward, lord chief justice of the King’s
Bench in the reign of James L, and one of the most dis¬
tinguished lawyers England has produced, was descend¬
ed of an ancient family in Norfolk, and born at Mileham
in 1549. While a student at the Inner Temple, he distin¬
guished himself by stating the case of a cook belonging to
the Temple so exactly, that all the house, who were puz¬
zled with it, admired his pleading, which was also particu¬
larly noticed by the bench. After his marriage with Brid¬
get, daughter of John Preston, Esq. a lady of great for¬
tune, preferments flowed in upon him. The cities of Nor¬
wich and Coventry chose him as their recorder; the county
of Norfolk elected him one of their knights in parliament,
and the House of Commons appointed him their speaker
in the 35th year of Queen Elizabeth. The queen appoint¬
ed him solicitor-general in 1592, and attorney-general the
next year. In 1603 he was knighted by King James;
and in November the same year he managed the trial of Sir
Walter Raleigh, at Winchester, when he treated that ac¬
complished but unfortunate gentleman with a scurrility of
COL
M language hardly to be paralleled. In June this year he was
|| appointed lord chief justice of the Common Pleas, and in
Cingodu. igj3 he became lord chief justice of the King’s Bench,
antl was sworn a member of the privy council. In 1615
he was very active in the discovery and prosecution of the
persons employed in poisoning Sir Thomas Overbury in the
Tower in September 1613; but the contest in which he
engaged not long after with the lord chancellor Egerton,
and some other circumstances, hastened the ruin of his
interest at court, and he was sequestered from the coun¬
cil-table, as well as deprived of the office of lord chief
justice. In 1621 he maintained vigorously in the House
of Commons that no proclamation is of any force against
the parliament; and in the same year, being looked upon
as one of the great incendiaries in the House of Com¬
mons, he was removed from the council of state with dis¬
grace : the king observing, “ that he was the fittest instru¬
ment for a tyrant that ever was in England.” He was
also committed to the Tower, and his papers were seized.
Upon the calling of a new parliament in 1625, the court
party, to prevent his being elected a member, got him
appointed sheriff of Buckinghamshire; but to avoid the
office if possible, he drew up exceptions against the oath
of sheriff, which, however, were overruled, and he was
obliged to undertake the office. In 1628 he spoke warmly
for the redress of grievances, and made a speech, in which
he affirmed that the Duke of Buckingham was the cause
of all the miseries which the country suffered. While he
lay upon his deathbed his papers and last will were seized
by an order of council. He died in September 1634, in
the eighty-sixth year of his age. Of Sir Edward Coke’s
“ learned and laborious works on the laws,” a certain au¬
thor has observed that they “ will be admired by judici¬
ous posterity, while Fame has a trumpet left her, or a
breath to blow therein.” These are, 1. his Reports in
thirteen parts, 1600, folio ; 2. A Speech and Charge at
the Norwich Assizes; 3. his Institutes, of which the best
editions are the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth, by
Hargrave and Butler, 1788, 1789, and 1794; 4. A Trea¬
tise of Bail and Mainprize, 1637, 4to ; 5. Reading on the
State of Fines, 27 Edw. I. 1662, 4to ; 6. Complete Copy-
holder, 1640, 4to. (See Bridgman’s Legal Bibliography ;
and Biographia Britannica, v. Coke.)
COL, one of the Western Islands of Scotland, is annex¬
ed to the county of Argyle. It is thirteen miles long and
nine broad. Long. 7. is. W. Eat. 57. N.
COLABBA, a small island and fortress belonging to
Austria, on the coast of Concan, twenty miles south from
Bombay. Long. 72. 53. E. Eat. 18. 39. N.
COLAIR Lake, a lake of Hindustan, to the south of
Ellore, in the Northern Circars, which is formed by the
overflowings of the Krishna and Godavery, and extends
forty-seven miles in length from west to east, and four¬
teen in breadth from north to south. During the rainy
season the whole of this space is overspread with water,
excepting sixty or seventy islets, in which the inhabitants
remain; but during the remainder of the year the whole
is dry, and in many places well cultivated. The waters
of this lake are distributed in many channels over the ad¬
jacent country.
COLAIRCOTTA, a town of Hindustan, in the North¬
ern Circars, and district of Ellore, situated on the borders
of the Colair Lake, thirty-five miles from Masulipatam.
Long. 81. 20. E. Eat. 16. 38. N.
COLANGODU, a town of Hindustan, in the south¬
eastern division of the Malabar province. This town has
a resemblance to many of the villages in Bengal, though
the houses are in their structure quite different, each being
surrounded with a small garden, while at a little distance
nothing is to be seen except a large grove of trees. The
C 0 L
OD
Colar.
town contains about a thousand houses, many of which Colapoor
are inhabited by Tamul weavers, who import all their cot¬
ton from Coimbetoor. Colangodu is surrounded by a beau¬
tiful country. The high mountains on the south pour down
cascades of prodigious height; and the corn fields are
intermixed with lofty forests and plantations of fruit trees.
The cultivation is, however, but poor. Most of the dry
field is neglected, and the quantity of rice land is not
great. One crop of rice is brought to maturity by the
rains, and in some places the natives have constructed re¬
servoirs, which enable them to have a second crop. Long.
76. 49. E. Eat. 10. 42. N.
COLAPOOR, a small independent Mahratta state, on
the western coast of India, between the 15th and 17th de¬
grees of north latitude. It is bounded on the south by the
Portuguese territory of Goa, on the east and north by the
dominions of the Peshwa, and on the west by the sea. The
country is well watered by many rivers, and is favourable
to the production of rice, of which great quantities are cul¬
tivated. Its principal towns are Yingorla and Raree, both
sea-ports. About the year 1670 this country was overrun
by the celebrated Sevajee, and in 1684 by the armies of
Aurungzebe, who ravaged the country, and burned the
town of Vingorla. In 1804 the maritime trade of India
was greatly annoyed by pirates, who issued from the ports
of the rajah: they were in consequence blockaded by the
Company’s cruizers, and payment wms demanded for all
the damage which had been occasioned by these piracies.
At the same time twro of the most daring depredators
took refuge with the rajah, after their predatory bands
had been dispersed by General Wellesley. It wms in con¬
sequence intimated to him that he would be held respon¬
sible for the good behaviour of those persons to whom he
had granted an asylum, and that unless he restrained their
depredations his own territory would be invaded. This
intimation had the desired effect, and the adjacent terri¬
tories have in consequence enjoyed a degree of tranquil¬
lity to which they had long been unaccustomed.
COLAR, a small district in the eastern extremity of
the Mysore rajah’s territories, situated between the 13th
and 14th degrees of north latitude, and intersected by the
78th degree of east longitude. This country is bounded
on the east by the British district of Chittor. It is in ge¬
neral level, but it contains many bare rocky hills at con¬
siderable distances, with level ground between them. The
hills occupy three fourths of the land, and towards Colar
are very extensive. The road approaching to this place
from the east is between two immense piles of bare granite,
crumbling into fragments that roll down into the plain.
The country is poorly watered, and suffers from the want
of rain. Rice forms a large proportion of its produce. It
produces also various other grains, which are cultivated on
the dry field, besides sugar, cotton, tobacco, and betel
leaf. The tamarind, pipal, mango, &c. thrive well. In the
country round the town of Colar the land is irrigated en¬
tirely by means of reservoirs. There is a good deal of gar¬
den cultivation; at Colar the gardens are in bad order,
but at some other places they are very neat. The soil is
a black rich mould, and it is watered by machines. Nine
miles east of Boodicotta, gold dust is found, and also in
some other parts. Salt is also made by scraping off the
surface of the earth during the dry season, and afterwards
boiling and filtering it. The inhabitants are poor, and their
houses have a miserable appearance, being hidden entirely
by the surrounding walls, which present nothing to the viewr
but a brown dusky mud. The trade and manufactures were
entirely ruined by Tippoo, who prohibited all intercourse
with his enemies’ dominions; but they are now on the in¬
crease, and are in a much better state than they were in
the reign of Hyder.
56 COL
Coiar Colar, a town and fortress, the capital of the above
H district. The town is defended by a strong mud fort,
Colbert, was repairing when it was visited by Dr Buchanan ;
it jias two very lofty walls, and in the town a cavalier of
stone, which commands all the works. It is also defended
by a deep ditch. The town contains 700 houses, many of
which are inhabited by weavers. It was the birth-place of
Hyder Ali, whose father lived and died in it. A hand¬
some mausoleum was erected to his memory by his son;
and near it a mosque, and a college of Mussulman priests,
with a proper establishment of musicians, were endowed to
pray for the repose of his soul, and are still supported by
the British government. On the hill north from the town
was formerly a hill fort, in which resided for some time
Cossim Khan, the general of Aurungzebe, who first car¬
ried the Mussulman authority to the south of the river
Krishna. Colar was the capital of one of the seven dis¬
tricts into which that general divided his conquests. It is
forty miles east-north-east from Bangalore. Long. 78. 19.
E. Lat. 13. 8. N.
COLAR BASIANS, or Colorbasians, a sect of Chris¬
tians in the second century, so called from their leader
Colarbasus, a disciple of Valentinus, wdio, with Marcus,
another disciple of the same master, maintained that the
plenitude and perfection of truth and religion were con¬
tained in the Greek alphabet, and that it was upon this
account that Jesus Christ Avas called the alpha and omega.
This sect was a branch of the Valentinians.
COLARPOOR, a town of Hindustan, in the province
of Berar, and belonging to the Nizam, thirty miles south
from Ellichpoor. Long. 78. 10. E. Lat. 20. 56. N.
COLBERT, John Baptiste, Marquis of Segnelay, one
of the greatest statesmen whom France ever produced,
was born at Paris in 1619, and descended from a respect¬
able family which lived at Rheims in Champagne. His
grandfather is said to have been a wine merchant, and his
father at first followed the same occupation, but afterwards
became clerk to a notary. In 1648, his relation John
Baptiste Colbert, lord of St Pouange, preferred him to the
service of Le Tellier, secretary of state, whose sister he
had married; and here he discovered such diligence and
exactness in executing all the commissions which were
intrusted to his care, that he quickly became distinguish¬
ed. One day his master sent him to Cardinal Mazarin,
who was then at Sedan, with a letter written by the queen
mother, and ordered him to bring it back after that mini¬
ster had seen it. Colbert carried the letter, and refused
to return without it, though the cardinal treated him
roughly, used several arts to deceive him, and obliged him
to wait for it several days. Some time afterwards, when
the cardinal returned to court, and found himself in want
of a secretary or amanuensis, he desired Le Tellier to fur¬
nish him with a fit person for that employment; and Col¬
bert having been presented to him, the cardinal, who had
some remembrance of the young man, desired to know
where he had seen him. Colbert was afraid of putting his
eminence in mind of Sedan, lest the recollection of his
importunacy, in demanding the queen’s letter, should re¬
new the cardinal’s anger; but the cardinal, who divined
character better than any man of his time, was so far from
disliking him for his fidelity to his former master, that he
received him on condition that he should serve him with
equal zeal and devotion.
Colbert applied himself wholly to the advancement of
his master’s interests, and gave so many marks of his dili¬
gence and skill, that the cardinal afterwards made him his
intendant. And he accommodated himself so dexterous¬
ly to the inclinations of the minister, by retrenching his
superfluous expenses and otherwise, that he was intrusted
with the management of the gainful trade of selling bene-
COL
frees and governments. It was by Colbert’s counsel that Colbert.' 11
the cardinal obliged the governors of frontier places to W
maintain their garrisons out of the contributions they had , ^
exacted; a suggestion with which his eminence was ex¬
tremely pleased. He was sent to Rome to negotiate the
reconciliation t>f Cardinal de Retz, for which the pope had
showed some concern ; and to persuade his holiness to
consent to the disincameration of Casto, according to the
treaty concluded with his predecessor Lrban \III. Upon
the whole, Mazarin had so high an opinion of Colbert’s
abilities, and withal so strong a sense of his faithful ser¬
vices, that at his death, which happened in 1661, he ear¬
nestly recommended his protege to Louis XIV. as the
most proper person to regulate the finances, which at that
time stood in great need of reformation. Louis accepted
the recommendation, and made Colbert intendant of the
finances. The latter applied himself to their regulation,
and succeeded in his object, although it procured him
many enemies, and exposed him to some affronts, branee
is also indebted to this minister for establishing her trade
with the East and West Indies ; a project from which she
derived innumerable advantages.
In 1664 Colbert became superintendent of buildings,
and from that time applied himself to the enlarging and
adorning of the royal edifices, which became masterpieces
of architecture in their peculiar style; witness the palace
of the Thuilleries, the Louvre, St Germain, Fontainbleau,
and Chambord. In the same year he founded the Acade¬
my of Inscriptions, and in 1666 the still more celebrated
Academy of Sciences. France also owes to Colbert all the
advantages she has derived from the union of the two seas;
a work begun in 1666, and finished in 1680.
In 1669 Colbert was made secretary of state, and in¬
trusted with the management of naval affairs ; and his ser¬
vices in this department were answerable to the confidence
his majesty reposed in him. He suppressed several offi- I |ei
ces, which were chargeable, but useless; and perceiving
the king’s zeal for the extirpation of heresy, he shut up
the chamber instituted by the edicts of Paris and Rouen.
He proposed several new regulations concerning criminal
courts, and was extremely severe to the parliament of
Thoulouse for obstructing the measures he took to carry
these improvements into execution. His main design in
reforming the tedious methods of proceeding at law, was
to give the people more leisure to apply themselves to
trade ; for the advancement of which he procured an edict,
erecting a general insurance office at Paris for merchants
and others. In 1672 he was appointed minister of state;
but how busied soever he might be in the regulation of
public affairs, he never neglected his own or his family’s
interest and grandeur, nor missed any opportunity of ad¬
vancing either. He had been married many years, and
had sons and daughters grown up, all of whom, as occa¬
sion served, he took care to marry to great persons; for
though he had no reason to doubt of his master s favour,
yet he wisely secured his fortune by powerful alliances.
This great minister died of the stone, on the 6th Sep¬
tember 1683, in his sixty-fourth year, leaving behind him
six sons and three daughters. In his last moments he was
attended by Bourdaloue ; and when his wife attempted to
talk to him of public affairs, he repulsed her, saying, “ Vous
ne me laisserez done pas meme le temps de mourir.” He
was of a middle stature, his mien was low and dejected,
his air gloomy, and his aspect stern. He slept little, and
was very sober. He was of slow conception, but spoke
judiciously of every thing after he had once compiehend-
ed it. He filled the most important offices with high re¬
putation and credit; and his influence diffused itself
throughout every department of the government. _ Upon
the whole, he was a wise, active, public-spirited minister,
I
Go|(ji!ester
Id.
COL
attentive to the interests of his master, the happiness of
the people, the progress of arts and manufactures, and,
in short, to every thing that could advance the credit and
interest of his country. Though an enlightened patron of
science and literature, Colbert was not himself an author.
The work entitled Le Testament Politique de Colbert, pub¬
lished in 1694, is a compilation by another hand, in imita¬
tion of the Testament Politique du Cardinal de Richlieu.
COLCHESTER, a borough-town in the hundred of
Lexden, of the county of Essex, fifty-one miles from Lon¬
don, and situated on the banks of the navigable river
Colne. It was formerly a larger place than at present,
containing sixteen parishes. It had an extensive trade in
baizes, which is now removed to the northern counties.
It is remarkable for its excellent oysters. It is a well-built
town, on the declivity of a hill. It is governed by a mayor,
COL
recorder, twelve aldermen, and thirty-six common-coun-
cilmen. Markets are held on Wednesday and Saturday.
The inhabitants amounted in 1811 to 12,544, in 1821 to v
14,106, and in 1831 to 16,167.
COLCHIS, a country of Asia, east of the Euxine Sea,
north of Armenia, and west of Iberia. It is famous as the
destination of the expedition of the Argonauts, and as the
birthplace of Medea. It was fruitful in poisonous herbs,
and produced excellent flax. The inhabitants were ori¬
ginally Egyptians, who settled there when Sesostris, king
of Egypt, returned from his Indian expedition.
COLCOTHAR, the brownish-red oxide of iron which
remains after the distillation of the acid from the sulphate
of iron. It is used for polishing glass and other substan¬
ces, and is known by artists under the denomination of
crocus, or crocus martis.
57
Colchis
II
Cold.
COLD.
It is often disputed whether cold has any actual exist¬
ence, or should be considered as merely the privation of
heat. Nor is that question of a modern date. Plutarch
attempted to discuss it, in his tract De primo frigido ; and
the reasonings which he there employs, though abun¬
dantly vague, are yet curious. Cold, he says, affects the
senses as well as heat; and it is not less active, since it
condenses and consolidates bodies. He therefore inclines
to the opinion, that cold is a distinct and independent
power in nature. With the Stoic philosophers, he regards
air as by its constitution cold and dark ; and hence water
drawn from a well freezes on being exposed to the atmo¬
sphere, while rivers overshadowed by high banks seldom
freeze, and even where their surface congeals, the heat is
not exhaled, but only driven down nearer the bottom.
T1 dimi- It is contrary to sound physics to admit more principles
nui'in of than are indispensably required, and this argument alone
may be sufficient for the rejection of cold as a distinct
power in nature. What we term cold, in reference to our
feelings, is merely the diminution of heat; but the exist¬
ence and materiality of heat rest on a very different foun¬
dation. The introduction of heat into a body is accom¬
panied by the infusion of a certain extrinsic repulsive
force, and its passage through the mass is connected with
a series of depending internal motions, which imply the
regular expenditure of time and velocity. The contrac¬
tion which follows on the diminution of heat is due to the
mutual attractive powers of the particles of the substra¬
tum, now exerted with less opposition. That expansion,
again, which some fluids manifest in the act of congela¬
tion, proceeds from the operation of the principle of crys¬
tallization, with the recondite nature of which we are still
unacquainted.
The notion that cold has a separate and independent Concentra-
existence, appears, however, to receive some countenance tion of cold
from the elegant experiment of collecting and concentrat-hy^eflec-
ing the frigorific impressions in the focus of a metallic re- lon*
fleeter. This curious fact, which is one of the oldest in physi¬
cal science, has lately been revived, and combined with cir¬
cumstances of peculiar interest. The experiment was first
mentioned about the year 1590, by Baptista Porta, in the
enlarged edition of his Magia Naturalis, when the four
books of which it originally consisted were augmented to
twenty, at the very time that his ingenious countryman
Sanctorio had invented and applied to medical purposes
the air thermometer. Porta relates, that, if a shut eye
be held in the focus of a speculum, before which is placed
a ball of snow, intense cold will be felt on the eye-lid.1
Cavalieri, the celebrated discoverer of infinitesimals, in
his work on the conic sections, printed in 1632, and en¬
titled Lo Specchio Ustorio, extended the experiment to
all impressions which he conceived to be propagated in
straight lines, not only to those of heat and cold, but to
those of sound, and even smell.2 It was afterwards fre¬
quently repeated at Florence, by the Academy del Ci-
mento, with the important addition of the thermometer,
which that learned body had the merit of introducing into
practice. Similar experiments were next performed by
Mariotte in France.
Specula and burning glasses appear in the sequel tounsatjs.
   factory
results.
1 Si quis candelam in loco, ubi spectabilis res locari debet, apposuerit, accedet candela per aerem usque ad oculos, ut illos calore, et
lumine offendet; hoc autem mirabilius erit, ut calor, itafrigus reflectitur, si eo loco nix objiciatur, si oculum retigerit, quia sensibilis,
etiam frigus percipiet.
3 Cavalieri mentions that, with a spherical speculum made of lead, and indifferently polished, he was able to inflame dry substances
by the reflexion of a charcoal fire; and that, with a deep truncated parabolic speculum, badly polished, he produced the same effect in
the open focus, from a small fire of wood at the distance of five feet. Esperienza di questo ho fatto io, che con vno Specchio sferico
di piobo ancor mal polito, hb acceso il fuoco nella materia arida al fuoco di carboni; e di piii 1’hb fatto con la superficie parabolica,
cioe con vn canone parabolico, che hauea il suo foco vicino alia cima, essendo esso specchio parabolico trocato pur nella cima, qual’
era di stagno, e mal polito, lal che opponendolo al fuoco, b alia fiamma di ben poca legna, nella distanza di tre braccia, ponendo
la mano if, dou’era la parte trocato, et il foco della parabola, non vi si potea sostenere, anzi vi s’accese fuoco; la qual cosa potria
alcuno applicare al riscaldamelo delle stanze, b alle distillationi. Pp. 85, 86—In general, says this ingenious mathematician
and philosopher, the same form of speculum which concentrates light and heat must likewise collect cold, which spreads.from its
source, from a mass of snow for instance, in straight lines. The hyperbola is, therefore, the figure which he thinks the best adapted
for the purpose; and he proposes this for condensing the smells radiated from an odoriferous substance. Hora dunque bastera quello,
che si e detto di sopra intorno al lume, e calore, potendo noi nell'istesso tempo intendere le medesime cose anco per ilfreddo, che dilatddosi dal
corpo freddo ad ognii positione per linea retta, e percid nelV infinite linee, che si partono dal corpo freddo, come datla neue, essendoui dentro le
parallele, che sono vnite dallo specchio parabolico, e le diuergenti, che sono vnite dall’ elittico, e le conuergenti vnite dall’ iperbolico,
con opporre alcun di questi specchi ad vna massa di neue, b di ghiacco, sentiremo nel loro foco essere il freddo fatto molto gagliardo,
ma per questo effetto sara piu atto 1’iperbolico di tutti, come quello, che raccogliera maggior quantitii di linee fredde; e questo basti
ancora circa il freddo, potendosi forsi in vn certo modo creder, che talk effetto accadesse anco intorno a gli odori, prouando noi dilatarsipur
quelli dalli corpi odoriferi verso ogni banda. Id. p. 128.
VOL. VII.
H
58
COLD.
Cold.
have been allowed to fall into great neglect. We find
v'—scarcely any mention of their application to physical re¬
searches, till, after the lapse of more than half a century,
Kraft repeated, at St Petersburg, during the severe win¬
ter of 1740, the frigorific experiment of the Italian philo¬
sophers, with a reflector belonging to the cabinet of the
Imperial Academy. Ambitious to operate on a grand
scale, he selected three huge blocks of clear ice, nearly of
a cubical form, each side being two, four, and five feet;
but, to save the trouble of transporting them, he carried
the speculum out of doors. No sensible effect, however,
was then perceived by him, though he used the air ther¬
mometer on account of its extreme delicacy. In 1744,
this academician again resumed the observation, and with
scarcely better success, having obtained only a doubtful
cold of three degrees. The cause of the failure was evi¬
dently his performing the experiment out of doors, and
not in a warm room. The blocks of ice had, by long
standing, acquired almost the same temperature as their
ambient medium. Had the air happened to become sud¬
denly colder, they might, from their relative condition,
have excited impressions even of heat, and thus have per¬
plexed philosophy for many years afterwards.
Such unsatisfactory results, from the action of a mass
of ice of above a ton weight, seem for a long time to have
shaken the belief in former experiments ; and the subject
Resumed ‘ w'as almost forgotten, when Pictet of Geneva, in 1781,
by Pictet, repeated the original observation, on a small scale, indeed,
but with entire success. Since that time a pair of brass
reflectors, with a wire case for holding charcoal or snow,
has been deemed an essential apparatus in every physical
cabinet. The concentration of cold in the focus of a spe¬
culum always excites surprise; and the experiment is of¬
ten exhibited with a sort of mysterious air, as if it esta¬
blished, or at least rendered probable, the distinct and
material existence of cold ; but, in fact, it is not more dif¬
ficult to conceive the impressions of cold to be collected
than those of heat. Both those impressions are only rela¬
tive to the temperature of the atmosphere, which serves
as the medium of their transmission. The one process
terminates with the deposition of a portion of heat, the
other with its abstraction.
The diminution of heat, or the increase of cold, is pro¬
duced in nature under four different circumstances : 1.
By the obliquity or absence of the sun ; 2. by the tenuity
of the higher atmosphere ; 3. by the evaporation which
takes place in dry air; and, 4. by the chilling impression
shot downwards from a clear and serene sky.
1. In our temperate climates the thermometer in win-
of the sun. ter very seldom descends fifteen degrees on Fahrenheit’s
scale, below the point of congelation; but in the higher
latitudes the intensity of the cold is often far greater. In
the northern parts of Sweden and Russia, the rivers and
ordinary lakes are frozen to the depth of several feet;
wine, and even ardent spirits, become converted into a
spongy mass of ice, and, as the cold still augments, it pe¬
netrates the living forests, and congeals the very sap of
the trees, which occasionally burst from this internal ex¬
pansion with tremendous noise. The Baltic Sea has been
repeatedly covered with a solid floor of ice, capable of
transporting whole armies, with all their stores and en¬
gines of war. Those waters, indeed, are only brackish ;
but the more northern ocean itself has often been frozen
to a very considerable thickness. In Siberia and Hud¬
son’s Bay, and even in the northern provinces of Sweden,
mercury has been at some times observed contracted by
exposure into a solid semi-metal; and, consequently, the
cold which then prevailed must have exceeded seventy-
one degrees, or thirty-nine below the commencement of
Fahrenheit’s scale.
Sources of
cold.
Obliquity
2. In elevated tracts the increase of cold is very strik- Cold
ing. Even at an altitude of three miles and a half, the
air is generally sixty-eight degrees colder than at the level kk^atij
of the sea. On the summit of the Andes, therefore, e
thermometer would often sink perhaps under the begin- ce'
ning of Fahrenheit’s scale; and it seems probable that
mercury would naturally freeze in winter on the top of
Mont Blanc. Mountains are hence regarded as the grand
stores or depositaries of cold in the milder climates. In
every country, therefore, the air of subterraneous caves,
and the water of deep springs or wells, are during the
summer months comparatively cold. Hence the obvious
advantage of cellars, in addition to their preserving an
uniform temperature, which is so favourable to the ripen¬
ing of the liquors deposited in them. But the air at the
bottom of an open and very deep pit must be colder than
the mean state of the ground ; for in all the changes which
take place at the surface, the cold air will descend, and
the warm air still float over the mouth of the pit. The
wealthier classes of antiquity were accustomed, accord¬
ingly, to cool the wine for their tables by suspending it
for some time in a bucket let down near the surface of
profound wells.
3. Evaporation is a natural process, by which heat isEvapm
powerfully abstracted by the exhaling moisture, while thistion.
assumes a gaseous constitution in the act of combining
with dry air. The fact seems to have been known in the
warm regions of the East at a very early period of society,
suggested probably by the familiar use of a rude unglazed
pottery for all culinary purposes. The Egyptians, and
other inhabitants of the sultry shores of the Levant, have,
from the remotest ages, cooled the water for drinking in
their porous jars. Athenmus reports, from a history of
Protagorides, that King Antiochus had always a provision
for his table prepared in that way. The water having been
carefully decanted from its sediment into earthen pitchers
(iidgeicug xsga/^/a/s), these were transported to the highest
part of his palace, and exposed to the clear and keen
atmosphere (it'aiOg/agoutr/v), two boys being appointed to
watch them the whole night, and kept constantly wetting
their sides. This labour of sprinkling the surface of the
jars seems to have been afterwards spared, in consequence
probably of the adoption of a more porous kind of earthen¬
ware. Galen, in his Commentary on Hippocrates, relates,
that he witnessed the mode of cooling water, which was
practised in his time, not only at Alexandria, but over all
Egypt. The water having been previously boiled, was
poured at sunset into shallow pans (apyoig otirgaTums), which
were then carried to the house-tops, and there exposed
during the whole night to the wind; and, to preserve the
cold thus acquired, the pans were removed at day-break,
and placed on the shaded ground, surrounded by leaves
of trees, prunings of vines, lettuce, or other slow-conduct¬
ing substances.
The bottles or bags made of goat-skins, in which the
wandering Arabs are wont to carry their scanty provision
of water, allowing a small portion of the liquid to transude
and exhale, render it by consequence comparatively cool,
and better fitted to mitigate or allay the intolerable thirst
created in traversing their sandy deserts. In Guinea, it
is customary to fill gourds or calabashes with water, and
suspend them all night from the outer branches of trees.
The Moors introduced into Spain a sort of unglazed Cooling
earthen jugs, named iwcaros or alcarrazas, which, being vessels
filled with water, present to the atmosphere a surfaceCjIled',,,■
constantly humid, and furnish by evaporation, during thecflr,fl‘‘,s'
dry and hot weather, a refreshing beverage. The same
practice has been adopted by degrees in various parts of
the south of Europe. In India, during certain months,
the apartments are kept comparatively cool, by dashing
Co
polo
jollcc
ice.
If:pi
r
"old.
18 an
n e of
cc cling
iCs
Iilires-
si ‘i
si ivered
Bp a
cllr sly.
Tlir in-
t£ >ity in
tl finer
ie cl ates.
COLD.
59
water against the matting of reeds or bamboos which line
the doors and outside of the walls. Even the more luxu¬
rious mariners, in their voyages between the tropics, are
accustomed to cool their wines by lapping the bottle with
wet flannel, and suspending it from the yard or under the
cabin windows. In all such cases the effect is accelerated,
though not augmented, by the swiftness of the current
of air. What have been called Egyptian coolers, and
lately produced by our potters, are less perfect in their
operation. Being very thick, they require only to be
soaked in water, and the evaporation from their surface
cools the adjacent air. On the inside, however, where the
bottle is placed, the action, in consequence of the confined
humidity, must be enfeebled. In damp weather, these
vessels, it is evident, are entirely useless.
The natives of India likewise are enabled, by directing
a skilful process of evaporation, to procure for themselves
a supply of ice during their short winter. In the upper
country, not far however from Calcutta, a large open plain
being selected, three or four excavations are made in it,
about thirty feet square and two feet deep, and the bot¬
tom covered to the thickness of nearly a foot with sugar
canes or dried stalks of Indian corn. On this bed are
placed rows of small unglazed earthen pans, about an inch
and quarter deep, and extremely porous. In the dusk of
the evening, during the months of December, January,
and February, these are filled with soft water previously
boiled and suffered to cool; when the weather is very fine
and clear a great part of the water becomes frozen during
the night. The pans are regularly visited at sunrise, and
their contents thrown into baskets which retain the ice.
These are now carried to a conservatory, made by sinking
a pit fourteen or fifteen feet deep, lined with straw under
a layer of coarse blanketing. The small sheets of ice are
thrown down into the cavity, and rammed into a solid
mass. The mouth of the pit is then closed up with straw
and blankets, and sheltered by a thatched roof.
4. It was stated in the article Climate, that impres¬
sions of cold are constantly showered down from a clear
and azure sky. These effects are no doubt more conspi¬
cuous in the finer regions of the globe. Accordingly, they
did not escape the observation of the ancients, but gave
rise to opinions which were embodied in the language of
poetry. The term cojg was applied only to the grosser
part of the atmosphere, while the highest portion of it,
free from clouds and vapour, and bordering on the pure
fields of sether, received the kindred appellation of ou&yci.
But this word and its derivatives have always been asso¬
ciated with ideas of cold. We have seen that the verb s^a/-
6yaZp) is used by Athenseus to signify the cooling of a
body by exposure under a serene sky. Homer uses the
term aidgog, in speaking of the reception of his hero, when
overcome with cold and toil.1 The same poet of nature
applies the epithet a/dgqyevTis or a/^rjyevirns, or frigorific,
to Boreas, the north wind.2 The chorus in the Antigone
of Sophocles deprecates the pelting storm, and likewise
the cold («/$£/«) of inhospitable frozen tracts.3 The word
cuQyoi is employed by Herodotus to signify a chill as well
as a dry atmosphere.4 Of the same import is the expres¬
sion in Horace, sub Jove frigido.
In the finer climates, especially, a transpiercing cold is,
therefore, felt at night under the clear and sparkling canopy
of heaven. The natives carefully avoid exposing them¬
selves to this supposed celestial influence ; yet a thin shed
of palm leaves may be sufficient at once to screen them Cold,
from the scorching rays of the sun, and to shelter them
against the chilling impressions rained from the higher at¬
mosphere. The captains of the French gallies in the Me¬
diterranean used formerly to cool their wines in summer
by hanging the flasks all night from the masts. At day¬
break they were taken down and lapped in several folds
of flannel, to preserve them in the same state. The fri-
gorific impression of a serene and azure sky must un¬
doubtedly have concurred with the power of evaporation
in augmenting the energy of the process of nocturnal cool¬
ing practised anciently in Egypt, and now systematically
pursued in the higher grounds of India. As the chilness
accumulated in the ground is greatest in clear nights,
■when the moon shines brightest, it seemed very natural
to impute this effect partly to some influence emanating
from that feeble luminary. It was long imagined that the
lunar beams are essentially cold ; and some philosophers,
at no remote period, have attempted even to prove the
fact by experiment. Mr Boyle, though he rejected judi¬
cial astrology, was yet disposed to admit the notion of
stellar influences.
The obvious mode of cooling water, or other liquids, by Cooling
the infusion of ice or snow, was practised in the warmer with snow,
countries from the earliest ages. It is even mentioned in
the Proverbs of Solomon, “ As the cold of snow in the time
of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to them that send
him.” Aristotle, presuming that the finer parts of water
are dissipated by congelation, maintained that it is perni¬
cious to drink melted snow. This speculative opinion seems
not, however, to have been regarded by the ancients.
Theocritus calls snow-water an ambrosial drink, kotos
uyfigoffios. Xenophon mentions the practice of cooling
wine by the addition of snow. It is related by the histo¬
rians of Alexander the Great, that in his Indian expedi¬
tion, when he laid siege to the city of Petra, he command¬
ed thirty pits to be dug and filled with snow, which was
covered over with oak branches. The luxurious Romans
had excavations regularly formed for keeping snow the
whole year, chaff and other light substances being employ¬
ed to preclude from it the access of heat. But as the snow
preserved in this way could not escape being soiled, in¬
stead of mixing it directly in the drinking cup, a more re¬
fined practice was introduced of surrounding the silver gob¬
let which contained the liquor with a mass of the melting
snow. This improvement was ascribed to the profligate
emperor Nero. Similar modes of storing up snow have
been adopted in all the warm countries. The caves on
the sides of Mount iEtna are considered as natural maga¬
zines for supplying a material which is not only carried
down to Palermo and Messina, but even shipped to the
island of Malta. The Italians formerly cooled their wine
by setting the large glass flasks containing it in wide ves¬
sels of wood or cork, the intervening space being filled
with snow on which water was poured.
Saltpetre or nitre being almost a natural production of Cooling
the East, its property of rendering water cold by solution with nitre,
was probably known from a very remote period to the
oriental nations. This process of cooling is described in
the Institutes of Akbar as the discovery of that enlighten¬
ed prince, who governed India with parental mildness
from the year 1560 to 1605. One part of nitre is direct¬
ed to be thrown into a vessel containing two parts of wa¬
ter ; and a gugglet of pewter or silver filled with pure wa-
1 xai xccpuru nytv is oixov. Odyss. lib. XIV. 318.
2 'Xls S’ on ragipiMi vitpaiis Aio; iKiroriovrcu,
'f'vxpai vTai pivrns aitywyinos Bogitzo. Iliad, lib. xix. 357—8.
Kai Bugstis xifyy'yivirvs, [tiya. xv/tu xvAniSuv. Odyss. lib. V. 296.
3 'bvau.vAu't tfayuti aiQgia,
xai dua’ofjt.l'i^a. (fiuyuv fiiXti. Antigone, 357.
* Qi^fioTt^nv yxg lf-~i to ubcoo rns Tl kiHqixs T>JS $t>otrou.
Euterpe.
60
Cold.
Introdu¬
ced into
Italy.
Cooling
by saline
powders.
Principle
of evapo¬
ration.
COLD.
ter, and Jiaving its mouth close stopped, is then stirred
quickly in the mixture for the space of a quarter of an
hour.
The frigorific property of nitre was probably first com¬
municated from India or Persia to Europe, and seems to
have become known to the Italians about the middle of
the sixteenth century. As early as the year 1550, all the
rich families in Rome cooled the liquors for their tables
by dissolving that salt in water. Into a vessel of cold wa¬
ter the nitre was gradually added in the proportion of a
fourth or fifth part, while a globular bottle with a long
neck, containing the wine or water to be cooled, was
whirled rapidly round its axis. The salt, being afterwards
recovered by crystallization, would always serve the same
purpose again with undiminished effect. In India every
family of distinction keeps a domestic, whose sole employ¬
ment is to cool liquors by this process; but nitre being
cheap in that country, it is used in larger proportions, and
the water charged with it is allowed to become a perqui¬
site of the operator.
The application of salts to produce cold was extended
by Boyle, and afterwards more successfully by Fahren¬
heit. But within these twenty years Mr Walker of Ox¬
ford, and Professor Lowitz of St Petersburg, have resum¬
ed the subject, and produced compound saline powders
possessed of intense frigorific power. The solution of salts
in water expanding that liquid, augments its capacity for
heat, and consequently depresses its temperature. This
effect is likewise the greater in proportion to the quantity
of saline matter which can be dissolved. But after water
is saturated with one species of salt, it can still absorb
some portion of another. Hence the frigorific effects of
solution are always increased by employing a compound
dry powder. Nitre and sal-ammoniac, or the nitrate of
potash and the muriate of soda, in equal parts, added in
the form of a dry powder to three parts by weight of wa¬
ter, will sink Fahrenheit’s thermometer forty degrees. But
equal parts of the muriate of ammonia and of the nitrate
of potash, with one part and a half of the sulphate of soda
or common Glauber’s salt, will cool down three parts of
water forty-six degrees. A still greater effect, amounting
to fifty-seven degrees, is produced by dissolving equal
parts of the nitrate of ammonia and of the carbonate of
soda in one part of water. The frigorific action is in
general augmented by throwing the desiccated powder
into dilute acid instead of water. Thus three parts of the
phosphate of soda, and two parts of the nitrate of ammonia,
joined to rather more than one part of weak nitric acid,
will sink the thermometer seventy-one degrees.
These changes induced on the temperature of the li¬
quid menstruum are no doubt considerable, yet they are
still only transient, and the process requires some address
and manipulation, not always readily attained. But the
principle of evaporation, when rightly understood, leads to
a far easier mode of cooling liquids, which may be prolong¬
ed at pleasure. A close investigation of that principle, at
the very commencement of his philosophical labours, has
conducted Professor Leslie through the whole train of his
discoveries on the subject of refrigeration. The process
of evaporation had not then been examined with attention.
The depression of temperature which always accompanies
it was hastily supposed to be proportibnal to the x-ate with
which the moisture is dissipated, and to be therefore aug¬
mented by every circumstance that can accelerate this ef¬
fect. If water, contained in a porous vessel, expose on all
sides its surface to a current of air, it will cool down to a
certain point, and there its temperature will remain sta¬
tionary. The rapidity of the current must no doubt has¬
ten the period of equilibrium, but the degree of cold thus
induced will be still the same. A little reflection may dis- Cold
cover how this happens. Though the humid surface has
ceased to grow colder, the dispersion of invisible vapour,
and the corresponding abstraction of heat, still continues
without intermission. The same medium, therefore, which
transports the vapour, must also furnish the portion of heat
required for its incessant formation. In fact, after the wa¬
ter has been once cooled down, each portion of the ambient
air which comes to touch the evaporating surface must,
from its contact with a substance so greatly denser than
itself, be likewise cooled to the same standard, and must
hence communicate to the liquid its surplus share of heat,
or the difference between the prior and the subsequent
state of the solvent, which is proportional to the diminu¬
tion of temperature it has suffered. Every shell of air
which encircles in succession the humid mass, while it ab¬
sorbs, along with the moisture which it dissolves, the mea¬
sure of heat necessary to convert this into steam, does at
the same instant thus deposit an equal measure of its own
heat on the chill exhaling surface. The abstraction of heat
by vaporization on the one hand, and, on the other, its de¬
position at the surface of contact, are therefore opposite
contemporaneous acts, which soon produce a mutual ba¬
lance, and thereafter the temperature induced continues
without the smallest alteration. A rapid circulation of the
evaporating medium may quicken the operation of those
causes ; but so long as it possesses the same drying quali¬
ty, it cannot in any degree derange the resulting tempe¬
rature. The heat deposited by the air on the humid sur¬
face becomes thus an accurate measure of the heat spent
in vaporizing the portion of moisture required for the satu¬
ration of that solvent at its lowered temperature. The dry¬
ness of the air is therefore, under all circumstances, pre¬
cisely indicated by the depression of temperature produ¬
ced on a humid surface which has been exposed freely to
its action.
Guided by these views, Mr Leslie was enabled to con- Hygro.
struct a correct hygrometer, that should indicate the dry- meter.
ness of the air, from the diminution of temperature which
a small body of water, exposed on all sides, suffers by eva¬
poration. His efforts again to improve this instrument led
him next to the invention of the differential thermometer,
which was converted into an hygrometer by having one of
its balls covered with cambric, lint, or tissue paper, capa¬
ble of being easily wetted. Reduced to such a delicate
and commodious form, it detected with the utmost preci¬
sion, and under all circumstances, the relative condition of
the air in regard to dryness.
It appears that absorbent substances, exposing a broadCooling
surface, are capable of assimilating to their previous stateeffectedl
the air confined over them. Flannel, for instance, which
has been intensely dried, will support a remarkable degree absorb
of dryness in a close receiver. The trap-rock and com-ents.
pound clays, brayed into a coarse powder, and desiccated
before a strong fire, will exert a more powerful and ex¬
tended action. But dried oat-meal will act with equal
energy, and for a longer time. Of the saline substance^,
the muriate of lime absorbs moisture with the greatest and
most protracted force. After it has become drenched with
humidity, it may likewise be recovered again, though the
process of restoring it unaltered is rather troublesome.
But the best and most powerful absorbent is the concen¬
trated sulphuric acid, or the oil of vitriol of commerce,
which continues for a long time to attract moisture with
almost undiminished force, and possesses besides the valua¬
ble property, after it has become charged with humidity,
of being easily restored again by the application of heat to
its original strength.
To cool water in any climate or state of the atmosphere, Mode of
we have only therefore to put it into a small porous vessel, Focee'
a r
c o
id. presenting on all sides a humid surface, and to suspend
w this within a close wide cistern, of which the bottom is
covered with a layer of sulphuric acid. The broad sur¬
face of the acid absorbing the moisture as fast as it diffu¬
ses itself through the confined air, keeps that medium con¬
stantly at a point of extreme dryness, and thus enables it
to support, with undiminished vigour, the process of eva¬
poration.
In practice, the cistern or refrigeratory, having a broad
cylindrical form, from twelve to sixteen inches in diameter,
and composed of dense well-glazed earthenware (see Plate
CLXXIII. fig. 7), is placed in a cellar or other cool place,
and charged with sulphuric acid to the height of about
half an inch from the bottom. One of the porous earthen
pots, being filled up to the lip with water fresh drawn from
the well, is set upon a low porcelain stand in the middle
of the cistern, to which the lid or cover is then carefully
adapted. In the space of from three to perhaps five
hours, the cooling is nearly completed, and the pot
should now be removed; for though the water will be
kept at the same degree of coldness as long as it remains
shut up within the refrigeratory, the acid would be un¬
necessarily weakened by the incessant absorption of mois¬
ture.
pt of The production of cold is greater when the cistern is
;)wer. large, or when a small pot is used, insomuch that the ef¬
fect will be diminished one half if the humid surface
should equal that of the acid, the opposite actions of such
surfaces inducing an exactly intermediate state with re¬
spect to dryness and moisture in the condition of the aerial
medium. The power of evaporation is also diminished in
the low temperatures. Thus, if the atmosphere were at
95° by Fahrenheit, the water within the refrigeratory
might be cooled down 36°, or brought to 59°; but if the
thermometer be at 50°, the water can be cooled only 18°,
which brings it to the freezing point. This seems to be a
very convenient property, since the power of the refrige¬
ratory is always the greatest at the season when its appli¬
cation is most wanted.
It is easy, therefore, by such means to cool water in our
climate at all times to near the freezing point, and, even
under the torrid zone, to reduce it to the temperature of
60°, which in those regions is sufficient perhaps for essen¬
tial comfort.
By supplying a succession of porous earthen pots, the
acid will continue to act with scarcely diminished force,
till it has absorbed half its weight of moisture; during
which time it will have assisted in cooling about fifty times
that quantity of the water exposed to evaporation. At
this stage the dilute acid should be drawn off, and a charge
of concentrated acid again introduced into the refrigera-
tory.
e for This method of procuring cold, it will readily be per-
tic ceived, could be employed with advantage for various do-
;es. mestic purposes. For instance, butter may in summer be
kept cool for the table, by putting it, after being washed
with water, into a wet porous pot, and shutting this up for
a couple of hours in the refrigeratory. To cool wine suf¬
ficiently, one bottle only is used at a time in the smallest
refrigeratory. A sheath of stocking or flannel, previously
soaked in water, being drawn over the body of the bottle,
it is laid in a reclined position on one of the porcelain
sliders, near the surface of the acid, and allowed to re¬
main shut up during the space of three or four hours.
The refrigerating combination here employed produces
its effect, by a sort of invisible distillation carried on by
the play and circulation of the included air. The minute
portions of moisture which successively combine with the
contiguous medium, must abstract from the mass of water
as much heat as would support them in the state of va-
61
pour, or would in ordinary cases convert them into steam. Cold.
This vapour again being conveyed through the air, is at-
tracted by the sulphuric acid, and, recovering its liquid
constitution, deposits the heat which it had borne away.
The acid is therefore warmed at the expense of the water
subjected *to evaporation, and the whole performance of
the apparatus consists in a mere transfer and interchange
of condition.
CONGELATION
Is the passage of any substance from the liquid to the so- Congela-
lid form, in consequence of the abstraction of heat. Thetion.
conversion of water into ice could not fail to draw the no¬
tice of men in all ages. The minute and divided fragments
of the same production which descend from the clouds in
the shape of snow or hail, displayed the various powers of
nature. The ancients imagined that water which has lain
for ages in a frozen state acquires at last a permanent con¬
solidation. They extended accordingly the name of ice
(x£utfraXXof or crystal) to the pure and pellucid kind of
quartz which often occurs on the sides of lofty moun¬
tains, near the boundary of perpetual congelation.
It was early remarked that melted ice has the lightness \yater
and quality of boiled water. In fact, the portion of air loses its air
combined with ordinary water is discharged in the act ofin the act
freezing, as well as in that of boiling. Water thus deprived freez-
of its air is therefore prepared for a readier congelation.in^'
The ancients accordingly, we have seen, always boiled the
water which they designed afterwards to cool. Aristotle
relates, in his Meteorology, that the fishermen who cast
their nets in the Pontine Lake, used to carry in close ves¬
sels boiled water, for the purpose of sprinkling the reeds,
that these might quickly freeze together, and cease to dis¬
turb the fish by their rustling noise. The expulsion of
air from water during the progress of congelation, was
afterwards fully proved by Mariotte, one of the earliest
members of the French Academy of Sciences. If two
wine glasses, filled, the one with water from the well, and
the other with water recently boiled, be exposed to the
frost, the ice of the latter will seem almost uniformly pel¬
lucid, while the ice of the former will appear charged with
small air-bubbles crowding towards the centre of the
mass, to which they are driven by the advance of the con¬
gelation.
That congelation shoots at angles of 120 degrees, was
first observed in the beginning of the seventeenth cen¬
tury by the great Kepler; and this ardent and inventive
genius, in an elaborate dissertation, which he printed as a
new year’s present, investigated the various forms and
modifications of the icy crystals. The subject ivas next
discussed by Des Cartes and Bartholinus, and about a
century afterwards resumed by Mairan, and may be con¬
sidered as a step towards the general theory of crystallo¬
graphy, which has been since reared by the patience and
ingenuity of Haviy.
Other liquids, such as vinegar, dilute mineral acids, imperfect
weak spirits, and saline solutions, are likewise capable ofcongela-
being frozen; but they yield an ice distinctly differenttion.
from that of pure water, resembling an aggregation rather
than an uniform solid, and wanting consistency, strength,
and clearness. The frost appears to seize on the water
only, and to fill the compound liquid with close spicular
shoots, entangling the stronger acid or brine in their in¬
terstices. It was a mistake, therefore, to assert that the
ice of sea-water is really fresh. In the process of melt¬
ing, some portion of the brine may probably flow off, but
the residue still is always brackish. This fact is even po¬
sitively stated by the missionary Crantz, in his accurate
account of Greenland. The very intelligent and enter¬
prising navigator Mr Scoresby reckons the specific gra-
L D.
62
COLD.
Cold.
vered in
I.talv
vity of the spongy salt-water ice to be ‘873, while that of
fresh-water ice amounted to ’937.
Artificial The ancients were altogether unacquainted with artifi-
congela- cial congelation, and with any cold, indeed, below that of
tion disco- freezing. The application of nitre to the cooling of water
seems, before the close of the sixteenth century, to have
suggested to the Italians the experiment of mixing it with
snow. A very intense degree of cold was thus generated,
capable of converting speedily into solid ice a body of wa¬
ter contained in a smaller vessel immersed in the dissolv¬
ing mixture. Sanctorio, who may be regarded as the
father of modern physics, mentions, in his Commentary
on Avicenna, that he produced the same effect by em-
row thin tube of glass, filled with water, and cased on the Coii],
outside with lint soaked in ether, be suspended above the
pump, and the exhaustion quickly made, a cylinder of ice
will be formed.
The same property is manifested in a higher degree
by a singular liquid, discovered by Lampadius in 1796,
by distilling a mixture of pyrites and charcoal. It was
called at first the alcohol of sulphur, but now more appro¬
priately the sulphuret of carbon. According to Dr Mar-
cet, who has completed the investigation of its properties,
a thermometer having its bulb covered with lint wetted
by this liquid, and held in the open air, will sink not fewer
than sixty degrees; but if the same experiment be per-
ftl'
ploying common salt instead of nitre, in the proportion of formed within the exhausted receiver of an ah-pump, the
the third part of the snow, and had repeatedly performed alcohol of the barometer will even descend to eighty-
the experiment in the presence of a numerous auditory,
and gradu- From Italy this discovery was gradually communicated
ally com- over the rest of Europe. In the course of the seven-
municated teenth century iced creams, fruits, and various confitures, _ >
to the rest were first prodUCed on the tables of the luxurious. The which then prevent any farther action. T
ot Europe. fomoug coflfeeilouse5 Procope, was founded at Paris in likewise corrode the valves of the pump, and soon render
’it quite useless. Neither ether, therefore, nor the sul¬
phuret of carbon, could be applied in practice with any
sort of advantage to the production of ice, even on the
two degi-ees below zero. It must be observed, however,
that these effects produced by the evaporation of ether,
and of the sulphuret of carbon, are quite evanescent, and
that the receiver becomes soon charged with their fumes,
Those fumes
firsta;
1660, by a Florentine of that name, a vender of lemonade,
who was very successful in the art of preparing rich ices.
Thirty years afterwards the use of such artificial delicacies
1’endered
more in¬
tense.
in that city had become quite common.
The cold resulting from the addition of saline powders
smallest scale.
^           We have now to relate a discovery which will enable New®
to snow~or~pounded^ice, depends on the powerful attrac- human skill to command the refrigerating powers of na-ofarth,
tion of those salts, which restores the frozen mass to its ture, and, by the help of an adequate machinery, to create
liquid form, and therefore augments its capacity for heat, cold and produce ice, on a large scale, at all seasons, and
Fahrenheit fixed the commencement of his thermometri- in the hottest climates of the globe; but to explain this
cal scale at the temperature of the compound of salt and interesting subject with greater clearness and accuracy,
snow, conceiving it to be the lowest possible ; but much it is requisite to trace the successive advances which con-
lower degrees of cold are now produced. One part ot the ducted to the result. Where a conclusion appeals sirnple,
‘■ ... .... tjie care]ess observer is apt to suppose it easily attained;
yet, though sound philosophy tends always to simplifica¬
tion, the rare quality of simplicity is scarcely ever the
flash of intuition, but the slow fruit of close and patient
investigation. In pursuing the researches with his hy¬
grometer, Professor Leslie was early induced to inquire
into the condition of the higher atmosphere, and its rela-
v,  w    tions to humidity. He thus detected a fact of great im-
Still^more intense cold might be produced, if the ingre- portance in meteorology, and pointing at various ulterior
dients were, before their mixture, cooled down to conge- views. t .
lation. Thus4 five parts of the muriate of lime, added to As rarefaction enlarges the capacity of air for heat, soinvesti;
four parts of snow, will sink the thermometer to forty it likewise augments the disposition to hold moisture; at tion of.
decrees below the beginning of the scale, or the limit of the same time that the removal of the oi dinary pressure PnnciF
freezing mercury; and if the muriate of lime were crys- facilitates the expansion ot the liquid matter, and Its con-
’ ”” version into a gaseous form. Accordingly, if the hygro¬
meter be suspended within a large receiver, from which
a certain portion of air is quickly abstracted, it will sink
with rapidity. In summer, the additional dryness thus
muriate of soda, or purified common salt, being added to
two parts of dry snow or pounded ice, will sink the ther¬
mometer five degrees below zero. One part of sal-ammo¬
niac, and two of common salt, joined to five parts ot snow,
will bring it seven degrees lower; but equal parts of the
nitrate of ammonia and common salt, joined to two parts
and a half of snow, will depress the thermometer twenty-
five degrees below the freezing point
taliized, the effect would be ten degrees more. The same
extreme energy is exerted on adding four parts of dry
caustic potash to three parts of snow.
The mineral acids likewise, in a diluted state, produce
similar effects. Two parts of weak sulphuric acid, joined produced amounts to about fifty hygrometric degrees each
to three of snow, will sink the thermometer to twenty- time the air has its rarefaction doubled; so that, suppos-
three degrees below zero. The muriatic and nitric acids, ing the operation of exhausting to be performed with ex¬
in nearly the same proportions, will depress it from four pedition, and the residuum reduced to a sixty-fourth part,
to seven degrees more.’ By repeating the applications, the hygrometer would mark a descent of 300°. But this
therefore, a most intense cold may be created; yet, to effect is only momentary, for the thin air veiy soon be-
succeed completely, a skilful manipulation is required, comes charged with moisture, and, consequently, ceases
The saline matters should be reduced to a fine powder,
and the freezing mixtures should be made in very thin
vessels, not larger than will barely hold them. In this
way, by successive stages of cooling, Mr Walker once ob-
to act on the wet ball of the hygrometer. The cold, how¬
ever, excited on the surface of that ball, by such intense
evaporation, will have previously frozen the coating.
The increased power of aqueous solution which air ac-
tained the enormous cold of ninety-one degrees below the quires as it grows thinner, being ascertained and carefully
commencement of Fahrenheit’s scale. investigated, the object was to combine the action of ab-
The mere evaporation of some very volatile liquids is sorbent with the transient dryness produced within a re¬
sufficient to produce excessive cold. Thus, if a thermo- ceiver by rarefaction. The sentient ball of the hygrome-
meter, having its bulb covered with lint, be dipped in the ter being covered with dry salt of tartar, the instrument
common or sulphuric ether, it will, on exposure to the first indicated increasing dryness, and afterwards, as the
air, sink perhaps thirty or forty degrees. This effect is rarefaction proceeded, it changed its course, and marked
augmented under the receiver of an air-pump. If a nar- humidity. The same variation of effect nearly was ob-
COLD.
63
5)1(1.
Fir-up'
ylie*
served when the hygrometer had been wetted as usual
with pure water, and a broad saucer containing the mild
vegetable alkali wTas placed on the plate of the air-pump.
It was thus proved that the action of this imperfect absor¬
bent is soon overpowered by the tendency to vaporization
in attenuated air, and that, beyond a certain limit, it sur¬
renders its latent moisture.
Mr Leslie resolved, therefore, to try the effect of sul¬
phuric acid, whose peculiar energy as an absorbent he
had, under other circumstances, already ascertained; but
various incidents prevented bim, for a considerable time,
from resuming his philosophical inquiries. At last he
began those projected experiments, and was almost imme¬
diately rewarded by the disclosure of a property, the ap¬
plication of which blazed on his fancy. In the month of
June 1810, having introduced a surface of sulphuric acid
under the receiver of an air-pump, he perceived with plea¬
sure that this substance only superadded its peculiar at¬
traction for moisture to the ordinary effects resulting from
the progress of exhaustion ; and, what was still more im¬
portant, that it continued to support with undiminished
energy the dryness thus created. The attenuated air was
not suffered as before to grow charged with humidity;
but each portion of that medium, as fast as it became
saturated by touching the wet ball of the hygrometer,
transported its vapour to the acid, and was thence sent
back denuded of the load, and fitted again to renew its
attack with fresh vigour. By this perpetual circulation,
therefore, between the exhaling and the absorbing sur¬
face, the diffuse residuum of air is maintained constantly
at the same state of dryness. The sentient ball of the
hygrometer, which had been covered with several folds
of wetted tissue paper, was observed, at an early stage of
the operation, suddenly to lose its blue tint and assume a
dull white, while the coloured liquor sprung upwards in
the stem, where it continued for the space of a minute
stationary, and again slowly subsided. The act of conge¬
lation had therefore at this moment taken place, and the
paper remained frozen several minutes, till its congealed
moisture was entirely dispersed. Pursuing this decisive
intimation, the hygrometer was removed, and a watch-
glass filled with water substituted in its place. By a few
strokes of the pump the whole was converted into a solid
cake of ice, which being left in the rare medium, continu¬
ed to evaporate, and, after the interval of perhaps an hour,
totally disappeared. A small cup for holding the water
was next adopted, and the whole apparatus gradually en¬
larged.
The powers both of vaporization and of absorption be¬
ing greatly augmented in the higher temperatures, the
ytl same same limit of cold nearly is in all cases attained by a cer¬
tain measure of exhaustion. When the air has been rare¬
fied 250 times, the utmost that, under such circumstances,
can perhaps be effected, the surface of evaporation is cool¬
ed down 120 degrees of Fahrenheit in winter, and would
probably sink near 200 in summer. Nay, a far less tenui¬
ty of the medium, when combined with the action of sul¬
phuric acid, is capable of producing and supporting a very
intense cold. If the air be rarefied only 50 times, a de¬
pression of temperature will be produced, amounting to
80 or even 100 degrees of Fahrenheit’s scale.
We are thus enabled, in the hottest weather, to freeze
a mass of water, and to keep it frozen, till it gradually
wastes away, by a continued but invisible process of eva¬
poration. The only thing required is, that the surface of
the acid should approach tolerably near to that of the
water, and should have a greater extent; for otherwise
the moisture would exhale more copiously than it could
be transferred and absorbed ; and, consequently, the dry¬
ness of the rarefied medium wTould become reduced, and
Cold.
it I
Effi lint
)OW
it a
iieru
Mo'
e Hi¬
res.
•of
pnx ding.
its evaporating energy essentially impaired. The acid
should be poured to the depth perhaps of half an inch, in ^
a broad flat dish, which is covered by a receiver of a form
nearly hemispherical; the water exposed to congelation
may be contained in a shallow cup, about half the width
of the dish, and having its rim supported by a narrow por¬
celain ring, upheld above the surface of the acid by three
slender feet. (See fig. 1 and 2, Plate CLXXIII.) It is of
consequence that the water should be insulated as much
as possible, or should present only a humid surface to the
contact of the surrounding medium; for the dry sides of
the cup might receive, from communication with the ex¬
ternal air, such accessions of heat as greatly to diminish,
if not to counteract, the refrigeratingeffects of evaporation.
This inconvenience, however, is in a great measure ob¬
viated, by investing the cup with an outer case at the in¬
terval of about half an inch. If both the cup and its case
consist of glass, the process of congelation is viewed most
completely; yet when they are formed of a bright metal,
the effect appears on the whole more striking. But the
preferable mode, and that which prevents any waste of
the powers of refrigeration, is to expose the water in a
pan of porous earthenware. If common water be used, it
will evolve air bubbles very copiously as the exhaustion
proceeds; in a few minutes, and long before the limit of
rarefaction has been attained, the icy spiculos will shoot
beautifully through the liquid mass, and entwine it with
a reticulated contexture. As the process of congelation
goes forward, a new discharge of air from the substance
of the water takes place, and marks the regular advances
of consolidation ; but after the water has all become solid
ice, which, unless it exceed the depth of an inch, mayge-
nerally be effected in less than half an hour, the circle of
evaporation and subsequent absorption is still maintained.
A minute film of ice, abstracting from the internal mass
a redoubled share of heat, passes, by invisible transitions,
successively into the state of water and of steam, which,
dissolving in the thin ambient air, is conveyed to the acid,
where it again assurhes the liquid form, and, in the act of
combination, likewise surrenders its beat.
In performing this experiment, the object is generally j\j0(]erat0
to seek at first to push the rarefaction as far as the cir-rarefactjon
cumstances will admit. But the disposition of the water sufficient
to fill the receiver with vapour being only in part subdued to main-
by the action of the sulphuric acid, a limit is soon opposed fain the
to the progress of exhaustion; and the included air canlce'
seldom be rarefied above a hundred times, or till its elas¬
ticity can support no more than a column of mercury about
three tenths of an inch in height. A smaller rarefaction,
perhaps from ten times to twenty times, will be found suf¬
ficient to support congelation after it has once taken place.
The ice then becomes rounded by degrees at the edges,
and wastes away insensibly, its surface being incessantly
corroded by the play of the ambient air, and the minute
exhalations conveyed by an invisible process to the sul¬
phuric acid, which, from its absorbing the vapour, is all
the time maintained above the temperature of the apart¬
ment. The ice, kept in this way, suffers a very slow con¬
sumption ; for a lump of it, about a pound in weight and
two inches thick, is sometimes not entirely gone in the
space of eight or ten days. During the whole progress of
its wasting, the ice still commonly retains an uniform
transparent consistence; but, in a more advanced stage,
it occasionally betrays a sort of honeycombed appearance,
owing to the minute cavities formed by globules of air,
set loose in the act of freezing, yet entangled in the mass,
and which are afterwards enlarged by the erosion of the
solvent medium.
But almost every practical object is attained through
far inferior powers of refrigeration. Water is the most
COLD.
Elegant
mode of
freezing.
Progress
of conge¬
lation.
easily frozen, by leaving it, perhaps for the space of an
hour, to the slow action of air that has been rarefied only
in a very moderate degree. This process meets with less
impediment; and the ice formed by it appears likewise
more compact, when the water has been already purged
of the greater part of its combined air, either by distilla¬
tion or by long-continued boiling. The water which has
undergone such operation should be introduced as quick¬
ly as possible into a decanter, and filled up close to the
stopper, else it will attract air most greedily, and return
nearly to its former state in the course of a few hours.
The most elegant and instructive mode of effecting
artificial congelation, is to perform the process under the
transferrer of an air-pump. A thick but clear glass cup
being selected, of about two or three inches in diameter,
has its lips ground flat, and covered occasionally, though
not absolutely shut, with a broad circular lid of plate glass,
which is suspended horizontally from a rod passing through
a collar of leather (see fig. 6, Plate CLXXIII.) 1 his cup
is nearly filled with fresh distilled water, and supported by
a slender metallic ring, with glass feet, about an inch
above the surface of a body of sulphuric acid, perhaps
three quarters of an inch in thickness, and occupying the
bottom of a deep glass basin that has a diameter of neai-
ly seven inches. In this state the receiver being adapted,
and the lid pressed down to cover the mouth of the cup,
the transferrer is screwed to the air-pump, and the rare¬
faction, under those circumstances, pushed so far as to
leave only about the hundred and fiftieth part of a resi¬
duum ; and the cock being turned to secure that exhaus¬
tion, the compound apparatus is then detached from the
pump, and removed to some convenient apartment. As
long as the cup is covered, the water will remain quite
unaltered; but on drawing up the rod half an inch or
more, to admit the play of the rare medium, a bundle of
spicular ice will, after the lapse perhaps of five minutes,
dart suddenly through the whole of the liquid mass; and
the consolidation will afterwards descend regularly, thick¬
ening the horizontal stratum by insensible gradations,
and forming in its progress a beautiful transparent cake.
On letting down the cover again, the process of evapora¬
tion being now checked or almost entirely stopped, the
ice returns slowly into its former liquid condition. In
this way the same portion of water may, even at distant
intervals of time, be repeatedly congealed and thawed
successively twenty or thirty times. During the first
operations of freezing, some air is liberated; but this ex¬
trication diminishes at each subsequent act; and the ice,
free from the smallest specks, resembles a piece of the
purest crystal.
This artificial freezing of water in a cup of glass or me¬
tal affords the best opportunity of examining the progress
of crystallization. The appearance presented, however, is
extremely various. When the frigorific action is most in¬
tense, the congelation sweeps at once over the whole sur¬
face of the water, obscuring it like a cloud: but, in ge¬
neral, the process advances more slowly; bundles of spi-
culae, from different points, sometimes from the centre,
though commonly from the sides of the cup, stretching
out and spreading by degrees with a sort of feathered tex¬
ture (see fig. 4). By this combined operation, the sur¬
face of the water soon becomes an uniform sheet of ice.
Yet the effect is at times singularly varied; the spicular
shoots, advancing in different directions, come to inclose,
near the middle of the cup, a rectilineal space, which, by
unequal though continued encroachment, is reduced to a
triangle; and the mass below, being partly frozen, and
therefore expanded, the water is gradually squeezed up
through the orifice, and forms by congelation a regular
pyramid, rising by successive steps; or, if the projecting
force be greater, and the hole more contracted, it will dart Cold
off like a pillar. The radiating or feathered lines which ^rr
at first mark the frozen surface are only the edges of very
thin plates of ice, implanted at determinate angles, but
each parcel composed of parallel planes. This internal
formation appears very conspicuous in the congealed mass
which has been removed from a metallic cup, before it is
entirely consolidated. Sea-water will freeze with almost
equal ease, but it forms an incompact ice, like congealed
syrup, or what is commonly called water-ice.
When cups of glass or metal are used, the cold excited
at the open surface of the liquid extends its influence gra¬
dually downwards. But if the water be exposed in a po¬
rous vessel, the process of evaporation, then taking effect
on all sides, proceeds with a nearly regular consolidation
towards the centre of the mass, thickening rather faster
at the bottom, from its proximity to the action of the ab¬
sorbent, and leaving sometimes a reticulated space near
the middle of the upper surface, through which the air,
disengaged by the progress of congelation, makes its escape.
When very feeble powers of refrigeration are employed, Singut
a most singular and beautiful appearance is, in course ofmodfe
time, slowly produced. If a pan of porous earthenware, don c '
from four to six inches wide, be filled to the utmost withProce;5
common water till it rise above the lips, and planted above
a dish of ten or twelve inches diameter, containing a body
of sulphuric acid, and then a broad round receiver placed
over it; on reducing the included air to some limit between
the twentieth and the fifth part of its usual density, ac¬
cording to the coldness of the apartment, the liquid mass
will, in the space of an hour or two, become entwined with
icy shoots, which gradually enlarge and acquire more so¬
lidity, but always leave the fabric loose and unfrozen be¬
low. The icy crust which covers the rim, now receiving
continual accessions from beneath, rises perpendicularly
by insensible degrees. From each point on the rough sur¬
face of the vessel, filaments of ice, like bundles of spun
glass, are protruded, fed by the humidity conveyed through
its substance, and forming in their aggregation a fine silvery
surface, analogous to that of fibrous gypsum or satin-spar.
At the same time, another similar growth, though of less
extent, takes place on the under side of the pan, so that
continuous icy threads might appear vertically to trans¬
pierce the ware. The whole of the bottom becomes like¬
wise covered over with elegant icy foliations (see fig. 5).
Twenty or thirty hours may be required to produce those
singular effects; but the upper body of ice continues to
rise for the space of several days, till it forms a circular
wall of near three inches in height, leaving an interior
grotto lined with fantastic groups of icicles. In the mean¬
while, the exfoliations have disappeared from the under
side, and the outer incrustation is reduced, by the absorb¬
ing process, to a narrow ring. The icy wall now suffers
a regular waste from external erosion, and its fibrous struc¬
ture becomes rounded and less apparent. Of its altitude,
however, it loses but little for some time ; and even a de¬
position of congealed films along its coping or upper edge
seems to take place at a certain stage of the process.
This curious effect is owing to a circumstance which, as
it serves to explain some of the grand productions of na¬
ture, particularly the icebergs of the arctic circle, merits
particular attention. The circular margin of the ice, be¬
ing nearer the action of the sulphuric acid than its inner
cavity, must suffer, by direct evaporation, a greater loss
of heat; and, consequently, each portion of thin air that
rises from the low cavity, being chilled in passing oyer
the colder ledge, must deposit a minute corresponding
share of its moisture, which instantly attaches itself and
incrusts the ring. Whatever inequalities existed at first
in the surface of the ice, will hence continually increase.
r
co:
COLD.
ild.
H"’
Ai cial
la-
Siest
Artificial congelation is always most commodiously per¬
formed on a large scale. Since the extreme of rarefaction
is not wanted, the air-pump employed in the process ad¬
mits of being considerably simplified, and rendered vastly
tid ,est more expeditious in its operation. Two or three minutes
t,e' rn1Je at most will be sufficient for procuring the degree of ex-
a ° haustion required, and the combined powers of evapora¬
tion and absorption will afterwards gradually produce their
capital effect. In general, plates of about a foot in dia¬
meter should be preferred, which can be connected at
pleasure with the main body of the pump. The dish hold¬
ing the sulphuric acid is nearly as wide as the flat receiver ;
and a set of evaporating pans belongs to it, of different
sizes, from seven to three inches in diameter, which are
severally to be used according to circumstances. The
largest pan is employed in the cold season, and the smaller
ones may be successively taken as the season becomes
sultry. On the whole, it is better not to overstrain the
operation, and rather to divide the water under different
receivers, if unusual powers of refrigeration should be re¬
quired. As soon as the air is partly extracted from one
receiver, the communication is immediately stopped with
the barrel of the pump, and the process of exhaustion is
repeated on another. In this way, any number of receivers,
it is evident, may be connected with the same machine.
If we suppose but six of these to be used, the labour of a quar¬
ter of an hour will set as many evaporating pans in full ac¬
tion, and may, therefore, in less than an hour afterwards,
produce nearly six pounds of solid ice. The waste which
the water sustains during this conversion is extremely
small, seldom indeed amounting to the fiftieth part of the
whole. Nor, till after multiplied repetitions, is the action
of the sulphuric acid considerably enfeebled by its aque¬
ous absorption. At first that diminution is hardly percep¬
tible, not being the hundredth part when the acid has ac¬
quired as much as the tenth of its weight of water. But
such influence gains rapidly, and rises with accelerated
progression. When the quantity of moisture absorbed
amounts to the fourth part by weight of the acid, the
power of supporting cold is diminished by a twentieth ;
and, after the weights of both these come to be equal, the
refrigerating energy is reduced to less than the half. Sul¬
phuric acid is hence capable of effecting the congelation
of more than twenty times its weight of water, before it
has imbibed near an equal bulk of the liquid, or has lost
about the eighth part of its refrigerating power. The acid
should then be removed, and concentrated anew by slow
distillation.
Lla- When the exhaling and absorbing surfaces are rightly
night disposed and apportioned, the moderate rarefaction, from
pnect- twenty to forty times, which is adequate to the freezing
t*1 of water, may be readily procured by the condensation of
" steam. In all manufactures where the steam-engine is em¬
ployed, ice may, therefore, at all times be formed in any
quantity, and with very little additional expense. It is
only required to bring a narrow pipe from the condensing
vessel, and to direct it along a range of receivers, under
each of which the water and the acid are severally placed.
These receivers, with which the pipe communicates by
distinct apertures, may, for the sake of economy, be con¬
structed of cast iron, and adapted with hinges to the rim
of a broad shallow dish of the same metal, but lined with
lead to hold the acid.
The combined powers of rarefaction and absorption are
capable of generating much greater effects than the mere
freezing of water. Such frigorific energy, however, is at
all times sufficient for effecting the congelation of mercury.
Accordingly, if mercury, contained in a hollow pear-
shaped piece of ice, be suspended by cross threads near a
broad surface of sulphuric acid under a receiver ; on urg-
VOL. VII.
Cold.
.■ani-
te.
ela.
of
ury.
ing the rarefaction, it will become frozen, and may remain
in that solid state for the space of several hours. But this
very striking experiment is easily performed without any
foreign aid. Having introduced mercury into the large
bulb of a thermometer, and attached the tube to the rod
of a transferrer, let this be placed over the wide dish con¬
taining sulphuric acid, in the midst of which is planted a
very small tumbler nearly filled with water. After the
included air has been rarefied about fifty times, let the
bulb be dipped repeatedly into the very cold but unfrozen
water, and again drawn up about an inch ; in this way it
will become incrusted with successive coats of ice, to the
thickness perhaps of the twentieth part of an inch. The
water being now removed, the pendant icicle cut away
from the bulb, and its surface smoothed by the touch of a
warm finger, the transferrer is again replaced, the bulb
let down within half an inch of the acid, and the exhaus¬
tion pushed to the utmost. When the syphon-gage has
come to stand under the tenth of an inch, the icy crust
starts into divided fissures, and the mercury, having gra¬
dually descended in the tube till it reach its point of con¬
gelation, or 39 degrees below zero, sinks by a sudden con¬
traction almost into the cavity of the bulb ; and the appa¬
ratus being then removed and the ball broken, the metal
appears a solid shining mass, that will bear the stroke of
a hammer.
But a still greater degree of cold may be created, by Still great-
applying the same process likewise to cool the atmo-er cold cre-
sphere which encircles the apparatus itself. A glass ma-atetl*
trass was blown nearly of a hemispherical shape, its bot¬
tom quite flat, and about three inches in diameter, and its
neck about half an inch wide and cut square over. The
whole w as covered with a coat of patent lint, which takes
up water very copiously. A portion of sulphuric acid was
next introduced, forming a layer of perhaps a quarter of
an inch thick; and a spirit of wine thermometer, having
its bulb also cased with wetted lint, wras then inserted
within the matrass,^ brass ring attached to the tube se¬
curing it in the right position. Things being thus arran¬
ged, the matrass or flat bottle, with its thermometer, was
placed on a slender stool with glass feet, about an inch
above the sulphuric acid in the broad basin, and the large
receiver luted over it. The air was then partly extracted,
till the gage came below one inch. In a few minutes the
lint was frozen entirely, and looked white. After an in¬
terval of a quarter of an hour, to allow time for the eva¬
poration of that icy coat to cool down the interior appa¬
ratus, the pump was again urged, and the exhaustion
pushed to about three tenths of an inch. In a short while
the inclosed thermometer sunk not fewer than 180 de-
and remained stationary till the ice had wasted
grees,
away.
It is obvious, therefore, that the refrigerating powers
could be pushed still further by a judicious combination
of the apparatus. An idea of the mode of proceeding may
be formed from the inspection of figure 8. It would be
easy to show that the maximum effect is obtained, when
the dimensions of the successive cases rise in a geometri¬
cal progression. The action, however, is not doubled for
each additional case, but increased rather more than one
half.
These plans are difficult in the execution, and, though Simpler
they enlarge our conceptions of the extent of the descend-mode of
ing scale of heat, yet they furnish merely speculative re-congela-
sults. A very important practical improvement has beentl0n>
lately made in the process of artificial congelation. Sul¬
phuric acid is certainly a cheap and most powerful agent
of absorption; but the danger in using such a corrosive
liquid, especially by unskilful persons, formed always a
serious obstacle to its general adoption. Mr Leslie had
COL
early noticed the remarkable absorbent quality of our
mouldering whinstone or porpbyritic trap; and in April
1817 he substituted that material, grossly pounded and
dried before a kitchen fire, instead of sulphuric acid, and
pounded actually froze a body of water with great facility. This
whinstone, earth will attract the fiftieth part of its weight of moisture
before its absorbent power is reduced to the one half, and
is hence capable of freezing the sixth part of its weight of
water. It may be repeatedly dried, and will, after each
operation, act with the same energy as at first,
m- pn-ched But an absorbent still more convenient and powerful
oatmeal, afterwards occurred to Mr Leslie ; namely, parched oat¬
meal. With a body of oatmeal of a foot in diameter, and
rather more than an inch deep, he froze a pound and a
Gf>
Cold
II
Cole.
COL
quarter of water, contained in a hemispherical porous cup. Cold
The meal is easily dried and restored again to its action. ||
In a hot climate the exposure to the sun alone might
prove sufficient. By the help of this simple material, '“'"vx
therefore, ice may easily and safely be produced in any
climate, and even at sea.
Other substances could no doubt be employed as ab¬
sorbents. But, except the muriate of lime, or what is
called the oil of salt desiccated, none hold out any pro¬
spect of success. Dried common salt will barely effect
congelation ; and stucco, or the sulphate of lime, depriv¬
ed of its water of crystallization, which might seem to
promise a powerful absorption, has scarcely any efficacy
whatever. (b.)
EXPLANATION OF PLATE CLXXIII.
Fig. 1 represents a large air-pump intended for the pur¬
pose of freezing water, consisting of six receivers, each of
them having a broad glass saucer for holding sulphuric
acid, and a small poi'ous earthen cup containing the water.
Fig. 2, a section of the above, showing the communica¬
tion between the receivers and the body of the pump.
Fig. 3, the lever key for opening and shutting the cocks.
Fig. 4, the more ordinary appearance of the surface of
the water in the porous cup, at the moment when the act
of congelation begins.
Fig. 5, the very singular kind of ice, striated, columnar,
and cavernous, which, under a slight rarefaction, but in
cold weather, rises slowty and changes its form by de¬
grees, while part of the remaining water is drawn through
the substance of the cup, and covers the outside with a
thick icy collar above those irregular foliations.
Fig. 6 represents an elegant mode of almost instantane¬
ously freezing within a transferrer. Above the saucer of the
sulphuric acid is placed a glass cup holding water, and the
air having been previously exhausted, and the instrument
detached from the pump, on pulling up the rod, the water,
now left exposed to the most powerful evaporation, quick¬
ly runs into spicular ice, which gradually increases and
consolidates into a pure transparent mass. The lid being
let down again upon the glass cup, the action ceases, and
the ice returns slowly to the state of water.
Fig. 7, a refrigeratory for cooling water at all times to a
moderate degree, without the operation of an air-pump;
a body of sulphuric acid lying at the bottom of the pan,
while a porous vessel containing water is set in the centre
of the refrigeratory, and the air is confined about it by
replacing the lid.
Fig. 8 exhibits a system of vessels for producing spon¬
taneously great cold. It consists of a series of leaden or
pewter vessels, placed one within the other, and whose
surfaces form a descending geometrical progression, being
covered externally with soft wet lint, and holding each of
them a portion of sulphuric acid. The powerful evaporation
maintained by this arrangement causes the interior ves¬
sels to become successively colder, and thus augments by
a repeated multiplication the final effect. Placed under
the receiver of the air-pump, this system of evaporating
vessels, with no very high degree of exhaustion, and at
all seasons, excites ultimately the most intense cold yet
produced, far exceeding what is required for the congela¬
tion of mercury.
COLDINGHAM, supposed to be the Colonia of Pto¬
lemy, and called by Bede the city Coldana and of Colud
( Coludum), situated on the borders of Scotland, about two
miles from Eyemouth,- was a place famous many ages ago
for its convent. This was the oldest nunnery in Scotland,
for here the virgin-wife Etheldreda took the veil in 670;
but from the ancient name Coludum, it should seem that it
had before been inhabited by the religious order called Cul-
dees. In 870 it was destroyed by the Danes ; but its name is
rendered immortal by the heroism of its nuns, who, to pre¬
serve themselves inviolate from those invaders, cut off their
lips and noses; and thus rendering themselves objects of
horror, were, with their abbess Ebba, burnt in the monas¬
tery by the disappointed savages. After this it lay deserted
till the year 1098, when King Edgar founded on its site a
priory of Benedictines in honour of St Cuthbert, and be¬
stowed it on the monks of Durham.
COLDSTREAM, a town of Scotland, in Berwickshire,
situated upon the north bank of the Tweed. It is an ir¬
regularly-built but thriving town, the chief thoroughfare
from Edinburgh to Newcastle and other parts in that direc¬
tion passing through it. The Tweed is here crossed by a
strong bridge of five arches. Coldstream is nearly nine
miles east from Kelso, and fourteen west from Berwick.
The population of the town and parish amounted in 1821
to 2675.
COLE, William, a well-known botanist, was born at
Adderbury, in Oxfordshire, about the year 1626, and studied
at Merton College, in Oxford. He at length removed to
Putney, near London, and published The Art of Simpling,
and Adam in Eden, or Natures Paradise. Upon the re¬
storation of King Charles II. he was made secretary to
Dr Duppa, bishop of Winchester; but died two years
after, at the age of thirty-seven.
COLERAIN, a borough, market, fair, and post town of
Ireland, in the county of Londonderry and province of
Ulster. It is situated on the east bank of the Lower Bann.
Formerly it was a place of great consideration, being the
chief town of a county, erected by Sir John Perrot during
his government of Ireland; whereas it is now only the
head of one of the baronies in the county of Londonderry;
but it is still a corporation. It consists of a square called
the Diamond, where the market is held. Small streets
diverge from each angle of the Diamond, and the general
appearance of the place is elegant and respectable. It
possesses a church, market-house, several meeting-houses
of dissenters, and various genteel residences. The linen
trade is carried on extensively; and this is one of the
principal markets in Ulster for the sale of that manufac¬
ture. A small import trade exists here, the tide coming
up to the town, and the river being navigable; but the sea
entrance of the bar is difficult and dangerous. The salmon
fishery of this place is very productive. It is distant 159
miles north of Dublin. The population amounts to 1530.
COLESHILL, a market-town of the hundred of Hem-
lingford, in the county of Warwick, 104 miles from Lon¬
don. It is a well-built town, situated on a hill, at the bottom
of which runs the river from whence it takes its name.
It has a market on Wednesday. The population in 1811
amounted to 1639, in 1821 to 1760, and in 1831 to 1853.
COLESHY, a town of Southern India, in the province
of Travancore. It has a small harbour, which is secure
from all winds, under the protection of some rocks. Here
the Danes had formerly a factory. It is thirty-three miles
north-west from Cape Comorin. Long. 77. 11. E. Lat. 8,
12. W.
COLET, John, dean of St Paul’s, the son of Henry
Colet, knight, was born in London in the year 1466. His
education commenced in St Anthony’s school in that city,
whence, in 1483, he was sent to Oxford, and probably to
Magdalene College. After seven years study of logic and
philosophy, he took his degrees in arts. About the year
1493, Mr Colet went to Paris, and thence to Italy, pro¬
bably with the design of improving himself in the Greek
and Latin languages, which at that time were imperfectly
taught in our universities. On his return to England in
1497, he took orders, and returned to Oxford, where he
read lectures gratis on the epistles of St Paul. At this
period he possessed the rectory of St Dennington in Suf¬
folk, to which indeed he had been instituted at the age of
nineteen ; and he was also prebendary of York, and canon
of St Martin’s le Grand in London. In 1502 he became
prebendary of Sarum, in 1505 prebendary of St Paul’s,
and immediately after dean of that cathedral, having pre¬
viously taken the degree of doctor in divinity. He was
no sooner raised to this dignity than he introduced the
practice of preaching and expounding the Scriptures;
and soon afterwards established a perpetual divinity lec¬
ture, three days every week, in St Paul’s Church ; an insti¬
tution which gradually made way for the Reformation.
About the year 1508, Dean Colet formed his plan for the
foundation of St Paul’s school, which he completed in
1512, and endowed with estates to the amount of L.122
and upwards. The celebrated grammarian William Lyle
was the first master, and the company of mercers were
appointed trustees. The dean’s notions of religion were
so much more rational than those of the contemporary
clergy, that they deemed him little better than a heretic ;
and on this account he was so frequently molested that
he at last determined to spend the rest of his days in
peaceful retirement. With such intention he built a house
near the palace of Richmond ; but being seized with the
sweating sickness, he died in 1519, in the fifty-third year
of his age, and was buried on the south side of the choir
of St Paul’s, where a stone was laid over his grave, with no
other inscription than his name. Besides the preferments
above mentioned, he was rector of the guild ot Jesus at St
Paul’s, and chaplain to King Henry VIII. Dean Colet,
though a Catholic, was an enemy to the gross superstitions
of the church of Rome. He disapproved of auricular con¬
fession, the celibacy of priests, and such other tenets and
ceremonies as have since been condemned by all protestant
dissenters from the church of Rome. He wrote, 1. Abso-
lutissimus de octo Orationis partium constructions Libellus,
Antwerp, 1530, 8vo; 2. Rudimenta Grammatices, London,
1539,8vo ; 3. Daihj Devotions ; 4. Epistolce ad Erasmum ;
5. Commentaries on different parts of the sacred books,
and a number of works on theology.
COLGONG, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Bahar, and district of Monghir, delightfully situated on the
south-east bank of the Ganges. The surrounding country
is well stocked with game of all sorts, from the rhinoceros
and tiger to the quail and ortolan. It is 102 miles north¬
west from Moorshedabad. Long. 87.10. E. Lat. 25.14. N.
COLIBERTS (Coliberti), in Law, were tenants in soc- Coliberts
cage, and particularly such villeins as were manumitted or
made freemen : but they had not an absolute freedom ; for ^
though they were better than servants, yet they had supe¬
rior lords to whom they paid certain duties, and in that
respect might be called servants, though they were of a
middle condition between freemen and servants.
COLIGNI, Gaspard de, admiral of France, was born
at Chatillon-sur-Loin in 1517. He signalized bimself in
bis youth, during the reigns of Francis I. and Henry II.,
and was made colonel of infantry and admiral of France
in 1552. Henry II. employed him in the most important
affairs; but after the death of that prince he embraced
the reformed religion, and became the chief of the Hu-
gonot or Protestant party. He strongly opposed the
house of Guise, and rendered this opposition so formi¬
dable that it was thought he would have overturned the
French government. On the peace concluded after the
battles of Jernac and Montcontour, Charles XL deluded
Coligni into security by his deceitful favours; and though
he recovered from one attempt on his life, when he attend¬
ed the nuptials of the prince of Navarre, yet he fell in
the dreadful massacre of the Protestants perpetrated on
St Bartholomew’s day, 24th August 1572, and his body
was treated with wanton brutality by a fanatical and ex¬
cited populace. History has preserved the name of the
wretch who assassinated the admiral. He was a Bohe¬
mian or Gipsy, called Berne, whom Guise had employed
for the purpose, and who, even in that day of blood, dis¬
tinguished himself for more wanton barbarities than his
fellow murderers.
COLINDA, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Bengal, and district of Tipperah. It is situated on the high
road between Dacca and Chittagong, and is principally
inhabited by weavers, who manufacture a strong cotton
cloth called baftah, of an excellent quality, remarkable for
the raw material it contains. It is seventy-three miles
south-east from Dacca. Long. 91. 6. E. Lat. 22. 58. N.
COLISEUM, or Coliseum, in the ancient architecture,
an oval amphitheatre, built at Rome by Vespasian, in the
place where stood the basin of Nero’s gilded house. The
word is formed from colossceum, on account of the colossus
of Nero that stood near it, or, according to Nardini, from
the Italian coliseo. In this amphitheatre were placed sta¬
tues representing all the provinces of the empire; and in
the middle stood that of Rome, holding a golden apple in
her hand. The term coliseum is also applied to another
amphitheatre of the Emperor Severus. In these colisea
were represented games, and combats of men and wild
beasts ; but there is now little remaining of either of them,
time and war having reduced them to ruins.
COLLAR, in Roman antiquity, a sort of chain put ge¬
nerally round the neck of runaway slaves after they were
re-taken, with an inscription round it, intimating that
they were deserters, and requiring that they should be
restored to their proper owners, in the event of their again
running away.
Collar, in a more modern sense, an ornament consisting
of a chain of gold, enamelled, and frequently set with ci¬
phers or other devices, with the badge of the order hanging
at the bottom, worn by the knights of several military
orders over their shoulders, on the mantle, while its figure
is drawn round their armories. Thus the collar of the
order of the garter consists of S. S., with roses enamelled
red, within a garter enamelled blue, and the George at the
bottom.
Knights of the Collar, a military order in the republic
of Venice, called also the order of St Mark, or the Medal.
The doge and the senate conferred this order; but the
knights wore no particular habit, only the collar, which the
68 COL
Collarass doge put around their neck, with a medal, in which was
II represented the winged lion of the republic.
Collect. COLLARASS, a town of Hindustan, in the province
0f Agra, and district of Narwar. It is situated on the bank
of a small river, and is surrounded by an old stone wall of no
strength. It was taken in 1781 by the British troops; but
they were obliged to retreat before a large Mahratta army,
led by Scindia. The surrounding country is woody, inter¬
sected by ravines, and thinly inhabited. Except in the
immediate vicinity of the Sinde river, it is ill supplied
with water during the dry season. Long. 77. 42. E. Lat.
25. 13. N.
COLLATERAL, any thing, place, country, &c. situ¬
ated by the side of another.
Collateral, in genealogy, those relations which pro¬
ceed from the same stock, but not in the same line of as¬
cendants or descendants, yet are as it were beside each
other. Thus uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, and cousins,
are collaterals, or in the same collateral line. Those in
a higher degree, and nearer the common root, represent a
kind of paternity with regard to those more remote.
Collateral Succession. When a defunct, for want of
heirs descended of himself, is succeeded in his estate by
a brother or sister, or their descendants, the estate is said
to have gone to collateral heirs.
COLLATION, in the canon law, the giving or bestow¬
ing of a benefice on a clergyman by a bishop, who has it
in his own gift or patronage. It differs from institution in
this, that institution is performed by the bishop upon the
presentation of another, and collation is his own gift or pre¬
sentation ; and it differs from a common presentation, as it
is the giving of the church to the person, whereas presen¬
tation is the giving or offering of the person to the church.
But collation supplies the place of presentation and insti¬
tution, and amounts to the same as institution, where the
bishop is both patron and ordinary. Anciently the right
of presentation to all churches was vested in the bishop;
and now, if the patron neglects to present to a church, this
right returns to the bishop by collation. But if the bishop
neglects to collate within six months after the elapse of
the patron, then the archbishop has a right to do it; and
if the archbishop neglects, then it devolves to the king;
the one as superior, to supply the defects of bishops, the
other as supreme, to supply all defects of government.
Collation, in common law, the comparison or presen¬
tation of a copy to its original, to see whether or not it be
conformable; or the report or act of the officer who made
the comparison. A collated act is equivalent to its ori¬
ginal, provided all the parties concerned were present at
the collation.
Collation, in Scotch law, the right which an heir has
of throwing the whole heritable and moveable estates of
the deceased into one mass, and sharing it equally with
the others in the same degree of kindred, when he thinks
such share will be more than the value of the heritage to
which he had an exclusive title.
COLLECT, Collection, a voluntary gathering of mo¬
ney for some pious or charitable purpose. Some say the
name collect, or collection, was used by reason that those
gatherings were anciently made on the days of collects and
in collects, that is, in assemblies of Christians; but, more
probably, quia colligebatur pecunia.
Collect is sometimes used to signify a tax or imposi¬
tion raised by a prince for any pious design. Thus histories
say, that in 1166 the king of England, on going into Nor¬
mandy, appointed a collect for the relief of the Holy Land,
at the desire and after the example of the king of France.
Collect, in the liturgy of the church of England, and
in the mass of the Catholic Church, denotes a prayer, ac¬
commodated to any particular day, occasion, or the like.
COL
In general, all the prayers in each office are called Colleg,.
collects; either because the priest speaks in the name of Pettaj
the whole assembly, whose sentiments and desires he II
sums up by the word oremus, “ let us pray,” as is ob- y^0 Jjr
served by Pope Innocent III.; or because those prayers
are offered when the people are assembled together,
as is the opinion of Pamelius in his commentary on Ter-
tullian.
The congregation itself, however, is in some ancient au¬
thors called collect. The popes Gelasius and Gregory are
said to have been the first who established collects. De-
spence, a doctor of the faculty of Paris, wrote a treatise
on collects, their origin, antiquity, authors, and the like.
COLLEGAL PETTAH, a town of India, in the pro¬
vince of Coimbetoor, situated on the borders of Mysore.
It has two large temples, and contains 600 houses ; and is
a mart for the traders between Seringapatam and the coun¬
try below the Ghauts, near the Cavery. It is thirty-one
miles east-south-east from Seringapatam. Long. 77. 14.
E. Lat. 12. 13. N.
COLLEGE, an assemblage of several bodies or socie¬
ties, or of several persons into one society.
College, among the Romans, was applied indifferently to
those employed in the offices of religion, government, the
liberal and even mechanical arts and trades ; so that an¬
ciently the word signified what we now call a corporation
or company.
In the Roman empire, there were not only the college of
augurs and the college of capitolini, or of those who had
the superintendence of the capitoline games ; but also col¬
leges of artificers, collegium artijicum ; college of carpen¬
ters, fahricorum or fahrorum tignariorum ; of potters,yb/?*:-
lorurn ; of founders, cerariorum ; the college of locksmiths,
fahrorum serrariorum; of engineers of the army, tignario¬
rum ; of butchers, laniorum ; of dendrophori, dendropho-
rorum ; of centonaries, centonariorurn ; of makers of mili¬
tary cassocks, sagariorum ; of tent-makers, tabernaculario-
rum ; of bakers, pistorum ; of musicians, tibicinum, and
so forth. Plutarch observes, that it was Numa wdio first
divided the people into colleges, which he did that each
consulting the interests of his college, and occupying him¬
self therewith, might thus be prevented from entering
into any general conspiracy against the public repose.
Each of these colleges had distinct meeting places or
halls, and also a treasury and common chest, a register, a
person to represent them upon public occasions, and acts
of government. They had the privilege of manumitting
slaves, of being legates, and of making by-laws for their own
body, provided these did not clash with those of the go¬
vernment.
There are various colleges among the moderns, found¬
ed on the model of those of the ancients. Such are the
three colleges of the empire, viz.
College of Electors, or their Deputies, which formerly
assembled in the diet of Ratisbon.
College of Princes, or the body of princes, or their de¬
puties at the diet of Ratisbon.
College of Cities is, in like manner, the body of de¬
puties which the imperial cities send to the diet.
College of Cardinals, or the Sacred College, a body
composed of the three orders of cardinals.
College is also used for a public place endowed with
certain revenues, where the several branches of learning are
taught. An assemblage of several of these colleges consti¬
tutes an university. The erection of colleges is part of
the royal prerogative, and it is not to be done without the
king’s license.
The establishment of colleges or universities is a re¬
markable period in literary history. The schools in cathe¬
drals and monasteries confined themselves chiefly to the
COL
teaching of grammar, and there were only one or two mas-
ters employed in that office. But, in colleges, professors
were appointed to teach the different parts of science.
The first obscure mention of academical degrees in the
university at Paris, from which the other universities in
Europe have borrowed most of their customs and institu¬
tions, occurs a. n. 1215.
College of Civilians, commonly called Doctors' Com¬
mons, a college founded by Dr Harvey, dean of the arches,
for the professors of the civil law residing in London ;
wrhere also usually reside the judge of the arches court
of Canterbury, the judge of the admiralty, of the preroga¬
tive court, &c. with other civilians, who all live, as to diet
and lodging, in a collegiate manner, commoning together;
whence the appellation of Doctors' Commons. Their house
being consumed in the great fire, they all resided at
Exeter House in the Strand till 1672 ; when their former
house was rebuilt, at their own expense, in a very splen¬
did manner. To this college belong thirty-four proctors,
who make themselves parties for their clients, manage
their causes, &c.
College of Physicians, a corporation of physicians in
London, who, by several charters and acts of parliament of
Henry VIII. and his successors, have certain privileges, in
virtue of which no man, though a graduate in physic of any
university, may, without license, under the said college-
seal, practise physic in or within seven miles of London ;
with power to administer oaths, fine and imprison offenders
in that and several other particulars, to search the apothe¬
caries’ shops, &c. in and about London, to see if their
drugs, &c. be wholesome, and their compositions accord¬
ing to the form prescribed by the college in their dispen¬
satory. By the said charter they are also freed from all
troublesome offices, such as serving on juries, being con¬
stables, keeping watch, providing arms, &c.
Of this college there are a president, four censors, eight
electors, a registrar, and a treasurer chosen annually in
October; the censors have, by charter, power to survey,
govern, and arrest, all physicians, or others practising
physic, in or within seven miles of London, and to fine,
amerce, and imprison them at discretion. The number
of fellows was anciently thirty, till King Charles II. in¬
creased their number to forty ; and King James II. giving
them a new charter, allowed the number of fellows to be
enlarged so as not to exceed fourscore ; reserving to him¬
self and successors the power of placing and displacing
any of them for the future.
Edinburgh College of Physicians was erected on the
26th November 1681. The design of this institution was,
to prevent the abuses daily committed by foreign and illi¬
terate impostors, quacks, &c. For this reason, his majes¬
ty, at the time mentioned, granted letters patent to erect
into a body corporate and politic, certain physicians in
Edinburgh, and their successors, by the title of the Pre¬
sident and Royal College of Physicians at Edinburgh,
with power to choose annually a council of seven, one of
whom to be president: and these are to elect a treasurer,
clerk, and other officers ; to have a common seal; to sue
and be sued ; to make laws for promoting the art of phy¬
sic, and regulating the practice thereof, within the city of
Edinburgh, town of Leith, and districts of the Canongate,
West Port, Pleasance, and Potterrow, through all which
the jurisdiction of the college extends. Throughout this
jurisdiction no person is allowed to practise physic, with¬
out a warrant from the college, under the penalty of L.5
sterling the first month, to be doubled monthly afterwards
while the offence is continued ; one half the money arising
from such fines to go to the poor, the other to the use of
the college. They are also empowered to punish all licen¬
tiates in physic within the above-mentioned bounds, for
COL
69
faults committed against the institutions of the college; College
and to fine them of sums not exceeding 40s. On such °c- li .
casions, howrever, they must have one of the bailies of the t^ -
city to sit in judgment along with them, otherwise their
sentence will not be valid. They are also empowered to
search and inspect all medicines within their jurisdiction,
and throw out into the street all such as are bad or un¬
wholesome ; and that they may the better attend their pa¬
tients, they are exempted from watching, warding, and serv¬
ing on juries. They are, however, restrained from erecting
schools for teaching the art of physic, or conferring degrees
on any person qualified for the office of a physician; but
are obliged to license all such as have taken their degrees
in any university, and to admit as honorary members all
the professors of physic in the universities of Scotland.
These privileges and immunities are not, however, to in¬
terfere with the rights and privileges of the apothecary
surgeons, in their practice of curing wounds, contusions,
fractures, and other external operations.
Edinburgh College of Surgeons. This is an institution,
by which the surgeons of Edinburgh are incorporated into
a royal college, and authorized to carry into execution a
scheme for making provision for their widows and children.
They have also the privilege of examining and licensing, it
found qualified, all practitioners in surgery within certain
bounds.
College of Justice, the supreme civil court of Scot¬
land ; otherw ise called Court of Session, or of Council and
Session. See Scotland.
Sion College, or the college of the London clergy, has
time out of mind been a religious house, sometimes under
the denomination of a priory, sometimes under that of a
spital or hospital. At its dissolution under 31st Henry VIII.
it was called Elson’s Spital, from the name of its founder,
a mercer, in 1329. At present it is a composition of both,
namely, a college for the clergy of London, who were in¬
corporated in 1630, in pursuance of the will of Dr White,
under the name of the President and Fellows of Sion Col¬
lege ; and an hospital for ten poor men and as many women.
The officers of the corporation are the president, two deans,
and four assistants, who are annually chosen from among
the rectors and vicars of London, and are subject to the
visitation of the bishop.
College of Heralds, commonly called the Heralds
Office, a corporation founded by charter of King Richard
III. who granted them several privileges, such as freedom
from subsidies, tolls, offices, &c. They had a second char¬
ter from King Henry VI.; and a house built near Doc¬
tors’ Commons by the Earl of Derby in the reign of King
Henry VII. was given them by the Duke of Norfolk in the
reign of Queen Mary, which house is now rebuilt.
This college is subordinate to the earl marshal of Eng¬
land, and the members are assistants to him in his court of
chivalry, usually held in the common hall of the college,
where they sit in their rich coats of his majesty’s arms.
College of Heralds in Scotland, consists of the lyon
king at arms, six heralds, and six pursuivants, with a num¬
ber of messengers.
COLLEGIANS, Collegiani, Collegiants, a religi¬
ous sect formed among the Arminians and Anabaptists
in Holland, about the beginning of the seventeenth cen¬
tury, and so called because of their colleges or meetings
twice a week, where every one, females excepted, had the
liberty of expounding the Scripture, praying, &c. They
are said to have been all either Arians or Socinians; they
never communicated in the college, but met twice a year
from all parts of Holland at Rhinsberg, a village two miles
from Leyden, where they communicated together; and
they admitted every one who presented himself, without
regard to his sect or opinion, provided he professed his
70
C O L
COL
Colliery.
Collegiate faith in the divinity of the Holy Scriptures, and his reso¬
lution to live suitably to their precepts and doctrines. They
have no particular ministers, but each officiates as he is dis¬
posed. They never baptize without dipping.
COLLEGIATE, or Collegial, churches, are those
which have no bishop’s see, yet have the ancient retinue
of the bishop, the canons and prebends. Such are West¬
minster, Rippon, Windsor, &c. governed by deans and
chapters. Collegiate churches, in Scotland, are those
where two ministers serve the cure as colleagues; divid¬
ing the duty between them in such proportions as may be
arranged or convenient, and generally preaching alter¬
nately.
COLLIER, Jeremy, a learned English nonjuring divine,
born in 1650, and educated in Caius College, Cambridge.
He had first the small rectory of Ampton, near St Ed¬
mund’s Bury, in Suffolk, which, in six years, he resigned, in
order to proceed to London, where, in 1685, he was made
lecturer of Gray’s Inn ; but the change of government that
followed soon rendered the public exercise of his function
impracticable. He was committed to Newrgate for writing
against the revolution ; and again, for carrying on a corre¬
spondence which that change of events made treasonable;
but he was released both times without trial, by the inter¬
vention of friends. It is observable that he carried his
scruples so far as to prefer confinement to the tacit ac¬
knowledgment of the jurisdiction of the court by accept¬
ing his liberty upon bail. Conformably to these princi¬
ples, he next acted a very extraordinary part with two Col[;.
other clergymen of his own way of thinking, at the exe- ||
cution of Sir John Friend and Sir William Perkins for the Colli*
assassination plot; namely, by giving them solemn absolu- 'w\t
tion, and by imposition of hands. After this he absconded,
and continued under an outlawry till the day of his death.
These proceedings having put a stop to his activity, he
employed his retired hours more usefully in literary works.
He had already distinguished himself by several political
and controversial pieces; but in 1698 he attempted to re¬
form our theatrical entertainments, by publishing his Short
view of the Immorality and Profaneness of the English Stage,
which engaged him in a controversy with the wits of the
time. As he defended his censures not only w ith wit, hut
with learning and reason, it is allowed that the decorum
observed by succeeding dramatic writers has been mainly
owing to his animadversions. He next undertook a trans¬
lation of Morreri’s Historical and Geographical Dictio¬
nary, a work of extraordinary labour, and which appeared
in 4 vols. folio, 1701, 1705, 1721. After this he published
An Ecclesiastical History of Great Britain, chiefly of Eng¬
land, in 2 vols. folio, 1708 and 1714. His Essays upon
several Moral Subjects, in 3 vols. 8vo, published between
1697 and 1709, display considerable learning and ability,
and are written in an agreeable style. In 1701 he pub¬
lished a translation of Antoninus's Meditations. His last
work was a volume of Practical Discourses, published in
1725. He died of the stone on the 26th April 1726.
COLLIERY.
History of A colliery or coal-work is a place where coals are ex-
coals. tracted or quarried out from the stratified masses below
ground, and brought to the surface by means of machi¬
nery.
It is generally agreed that our cannel coal is the lapis
ampelites of the Romans, though it seems to have been
used by them only for making toys, bracelets, and the like.
But of that common fuel which we denominate coals the
native Romans were entirely ignorant. It is certain that
coals are not, as some have imagined, the lapis obsidianus
of Pliny, about which there have been great disputes ; nor
the gagates or jet, which others, again, have taken for the
lapis obsidianus, though the lightness and texture of the
latter show plainly that it was neither stone nor coal. In
fact, there are no beds of this mineral in the whole com¬
pass of Italy. The great line of it seems to sweep round
the globe from north-east to south-west; ranging at no
distance from the south-easterly parts of our island, as is
generally imagined, and visiting Brabant and France, but
yet avoiding Italy.
The primeval Britons, however, appear to have used coal;
and in the precincts of Manchester particularly, which are
furnished with an inexhaustible abundance of it, they could
scarcely have remained ignorant of the combustible mate¬
rial around them. The currents there frequently bring
down fragments of coal from the mountains; and in their
long and winding course through the parish, the Britons
would soon mark the shining stones in the channels, and
by the aid of accident, or the force of reflection, And out
the utility of them. But we can advance still nearer to
a certainty. Several pieces of coal were discovered in the
sand under the Roman way to Ribchester, when both were
dug up at the construction of a house in Quay Street. The
number of pieces, several of them as large as eggs, was not
less than forty ; and a quantity of slack was dug up along
with them. These circumstances show that the coals had
been lodged upon the spot before the road made by the
Romans covered it. That ground being in the neighbour¬
hood ofMancenion} the Britons had there deposited a quan¬
tity of coals, probably for the use of the garrison ; and many
of the smaller fragments and some of the slack were buried
in the sand upon which they were laid. And that the Bri¬
tons in general were acquainted with this fuel is evident
from its appellation amongst us at present, which is not
Saxon, but British, and subsists among the Irish in their
o-gual, and among the Cornish in their kolan, to this day.
The extensive beds of fuel, therefore, with which the
kingdom of England and the precincts of Manchester ore
so happily stored, were probably first noticed by the skill,
and opened by the labour, of the Britons, some time be¬
fore the arrival of the Romans among us; and the nearer
quarries in the confines of Bradford, Newton, and Man¬
chester, would naturally attract the notice and invite the
inquiries of the Britons, in preference to any others. The
current of the Medlock, which washes the sides of them,
bringing down specimens of the riches within, would lodge
many of them about the Castlefield, and allure the Britons
successively to a collection of the one and a search after
the other.
But even for ages after the discovery, wood continued
to compose the chief fuel of the nation. In the year 852,
a grant was made of some lands by the abbey of Peterbo¬
rough, under the reservation of certain boons and pay¬
ments in kind to the monastery, as one night’s enter¬
tainment, ten vessels of Welsh and two of common ale,
sixty cart loads of wood and twelve of pit coal, where we
see that the quantity of coal was only one cart load to five
of wood. The latter naturally continued the principal
. M
if lie
:ahcs
Sta
ik
1 That is, “ the place of tentsan ancient British town, the site of which was the present Castlefield at Manchester.
Ct '
COLLIERY.
7!
>17. article of our fuel as long as the forests and thickets were
ready at hand ; and this they continued to be till a very
late period. The first public notice of the former is stated
by Mr Hume to have been in the time of Henry III. who,
in the year 1272, granted a charter to the town of New¬
castle, giving the inhabitants a license to dig coals ; aad
the first statute relating to this article was the 9th Henry
V. cap. 10, ordaining all keels in the port of Newcastle to
be measured by commissioners before carriage of coals, on
pain of forfeiture. But they were not brought into com¬
mon use till the reign of Charles I. and were then sold
for about seventeen shillings a chaldron.1 In some years
after the restoration, there were about 200,000 chaldrons
burnt in London ; in 1670 about 270,000 chaldrons ; at the
revolution the consumption was upwards of 300,000 chal¬
drons ; and at present 1,600,000 are annually consumed
there. There is, besides, an immense consumption in other
parts of Britain, and in Ireland. In Scotland they supply
their own consumption, and also export. In Ireland, though
they have coal, yet they take annually a considerable quan¬
tity both from England and from Scotland.
The most remarkable colliery or coal-work that we have
ever had in this island was that wrought at Borrowstoun-
ness, under the sea. The strata of coal were found to
stretch under the bed of the sea at this place, and the col¬
liers had the courage to work these near half way over,
there being a mote half a mile from the shore, where there
was an entry that went down into the coal-pit under the
sea. This was made into a kind of round quay, or mote
as they call it, built so as to keep out the sea, which
flowed there twelve feet. Here the coals were laid, and
a ship of that draught of water could lay her side to the
mote and take in the coal. This famous colliery belonged
to the Earl of Kincardine’s family. The fresh water
which sprung from the bottom and sides of the coal-pit
was drawn out upon the shore by an engine moved by
water, that raised it forty fathoms. This coal-pit conti¬
nued to be wrought many years, to the great profit of the
owners, and the wonder of all who saw it; but at last an
unexpected high tide destroyed the whole at once, and
the labourers, not having time to escape, perished in it.
Cxcilence There are several other countries in Europe which pos-
ftblBri-sess considerable coal mines, as France, Liege, Germany,
ish il. an(i Sweden; while, on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean,
namely, in Newfoundland, Cape Breton, Canada, and some
of the New England provinces, coal has been discovered
and wrought. But in all these countries the coal is of a
quality much inferior to the British, and entirely unfit to
be used in many manufactures ; so that they import coal
from Britain for various manufactures.
The terrestrial matter which composes the solid parts
of the earth is disposed in strata, beds, or layers, the un¬
der surface of one bearing against or lying upon the upper
surface of that below it, which last bears or lies on the
next below in the same manner. And these strata consist
of very different kinds of matter, such as freestone, lime¬
stone, metalstone or whinstone, coal, &c. as will be parti¬
cularly specified in the sequel. Some of the strata are of
considerable thickness, being often found from 100 to 200
feet or upwards, nearly of the same kind of matter from
the superior to the inferior surface; and others are found
of the least thickness imaginable, one inch or less.
All these strata are divided or parted from each other
laterally, either by their even, smooth, polished surfaces,
with very thin lamina of soft or dusty matter betwixt
them, called the -parting, which renders them easily sepa¬
rable ; or else only by the surfaces closely conjoined to
>itu
>f tl
trat
each other, without any visible matter interposed betwixt Colliery,
them; yet the different substances of the strata are not
in the least intermixed, though sometimes they adhere so
strongly together, that it is very difficult to part or dis¬
join them; in this last case they are said to have a bad
parting.
Besides this principal division or parting laterally, there
are, in some strata, secondary divisions or partings also
laterally, separating, or approaching towards a separation
of the same stratum, into parts of different thicknesses,
nearly parallel to each other, in the same manner as the
principal partings divide the different strata from each
other; but these secondary ones are not so strong or visi¬
ble, nor do they make so effectual a parting, as the prin¬
cipal ones; and they are only met with in such strata as
are not of a uniform hardness, texture, or colour, from the
upper to the under surface.
There are other divisions or partings, called backs, in
almost every stratum, which cross the lateral ones longi¬
tudinally, and cut the whole stratum through its two sur¬
faces into long rhomboidal figures. These again are cross¬
ed by others called cutters, running either in a direction
oblique or perpendicular to the last-mentioned backs, and
also cut the stratum through its two surfaces. Both these
backs and cutters generally extend from the upper, or su¬
perior stratum down through several of the lower ones ; so
that these backs and cutters, together with the lateral
partings before mentioned, divide every stratum into in¬
numerable cubic, prismatic, and rhomboidal figures, ac¬
cording to the thickness of the stratum, and the position
and number of the backs and cutters. Sometimes they
have a kind of thin partition of dusty or soft matter in
them, and sometimes they have none, like the first-men¬
tioned partings ; but the softer kind of strata generally have
more backs and cutters than the harder kind, and they do
not extend or penetrate through the others.
To explain this a little further, let A, B, C, D, E, F, Plate
G (fig. 1), represent the principal partings before men- ^
tioned, or the upper and under surfaces of any stratum; 1”‘
then a, b, c, d, e, f will represent the secondar}' lateral
partings, nearly parallel to the principal ones; g, h, i, k, l,
m, the longitudinal partings, called backs ; n, o, p, q, r, s,
the cross partings called cutters, crossing the last-mention¬
ed ones either obliquely or perpendicularly.
In all places where the strata lie regularly, they are di¬
vided and subdivided in the manner above mentioned; and
sometimes they extend in this manner throughout a pretty
large district of country; but yet it is often otherwise, for
their regularity is frequently interrupted, and the strata are
broken and disordered by sundry slips, chasms, breaches,
or fissures, differently denominated according to their vari¬
ous dimensions and the matter with which they are filled,
such as, dikes, faults, hitches, and troubles, which shall be
explained in order.
Dikes are the largest kind of fissures. They seem to Dikes,
be nothing but a crack or breach of the solid strata, occa¬
sioned by one part of them being broken away and having
fallen from the other. They generally run in a straight line
for a considerable length, and penetrate from the surface
to the greatest depth ever yet reached, in a direction some¬
times perpendicular to the horizon, and sometimes oblique¬
ly. The same kind of strata are found lying upon each other
in the same order, but the whole of them greatly elevated
or depressed, on the one side of the dike as well as on the
other. These fissures are sometimes two or three feet wide,
and sometimes many fathoms. If the fissure or dike be of
any considerable width, it is generally filled with hetero-
1 Campbell’s Political Survey.
72
COLLIERY.
Hitches.
Colliery, geneous matter, different from that of the solid strata on
each side of it. It is sometimes found charged with clay,
gravel, or sand; sometimes with a confused mass of dif¬
ferent kinds of stone lying edgewise; and at other times
with a solid body of freestone, or even whinstone. When
the fissure is of no great width, as suppose two or three
feet only, it is then usually found filled with a confused
mixture of the different matters which compose the ad¬
joining strata, consolidated into one mass. If the dike
runs or stretches north and south, and the same kind of
strata are found on the east side of the dike, in a situation
with respect to the horizon ten or twenty fathoms lower
than on the other side, it is then said to be a dip-dike or
downcast-dike, or slip of ten or twenty fathoms to the east¬
ward ; or counting from the east side, it is then said to be
a rise-dike or upcast of so many fathoms westward. If the
strata on one side are not much higher or lower with re¬
spect to the horizontal line, than those on the other, but
only broken off and removed to a certain distance, it is then
said to be a dike of so many fathoms thick; and from the
matter contained between the two sides of the fissuie or
dike, it is denominated a clay-dike, stone-dike, and so on.
A hitch is only a dike or fissure of a smaller degree, by
which the strata on one side are not elevated or separated
from those on the other side above one fathonn These
hitches are denominated in the same manner as dikes, ac¬
cording to the number of feet they elevate or depress the
There are dikes, though they are not often met with in
the coal-countries, cavities of which are filled with spar,
the ores of iron, lead, vitriol, or other metallic or mineral
matters ; and it is pretty well known that all metallic veins
are nothing else than what in the coal countries are called
dikes, or slips, or faults.
The strata, as mentioned above, are generally found ly¬
ing upon each other in the same order on one side of the
dike as on the other, and nearly of the same thicknesses;
appearing to have been originally a continuation of the
same regular strata, and the dike only a breach made by
some later accident, perpendicularly or obliquely through
them, by which one part was removed to a small distance,
and depressed to a lower situation than the other. Tut
this is not the only alteration made in the strata by dikes ;
for generally all the strata are, to a considerable distance
on each side of the dike, in a kind of shatteied condi¬
tion, very tender, easily pervious to water, and debased
greatly in their quality, while their inclination to the hori¬
zon is often altered.
Troubles may be denominated dikes of the smallest de¬
gree ; for they are not a real breach, but only a tendency
towards it, which has not taken full effect. I he strata
are generally altered by a trouble from their regular site
to a different position. Where the regular course of the
strata is nearly level, a trouble will cause a sudden and
considerable ascent or descent; where they have in their
regular situation a certain degree of ascent or descent, a
trouble either increases or alters it to a contrary position :
And a trouble has tnese effects upon the strata in common
with dikes, that it greatly debases them from their origi¬
nal quality; that the partings are separated ; that the backs
and cutters are disjoined, and their regularity disordered ;
that the original cubic and prismatic figures of which the
strata were composed are broken, and the dislocation filled
with heterogeneous matter; and that the whole strata are
reduced to a softer and more friable state.
Din and The strata are seldom or never found to lie in a true
rise of the horizontal situation, but generally have an inclination or
strata. descent, called the dip, to some particular part of the ho¬
rizon. If this inclination be to the eastward, it is called
an east dip and a west rise; and according to the point of
Troubles.
the compass to which the dip inclines it is denominated Co%
and the ascent or rise is to the contrary point. This in- Wy/
clination or dip of the strata is found to hold everywhere.
In some places it varies very little from the level, in others
very considerably, and in some so much as to be nearly
iu a perpendicular direction. But whatever degree of in¬
clination the strata have to the horizon, they are generally
found, if not interrupted by dikes, hitches, or troubles, to
lie in the regular manner first mentioned. I hey .gene¬
rally continue upon one uniform dip until they are broken
or disordered by a dike, hitch, or trouble, by which the
dip is often altered, sometimes to a different part of the
horizon, and often to an opposite point; so that on one
side of a dike, hitch, or trouble, if the strata have an east
dip, on the other side they may have an east rise, which is
a west dip; and, in general, every considerable alteration
in the dip is occasioned by the circumstances last men¬
tioned.
To illustrate what has been said, see fig. 2, where a, b, Plate
c, d, &c. represent a course of strata lying upon each other, CLX./
having a certain inclination to the horizon. AB is a 2
downcast dike or slip, which depresses the strata oblique¬
ly to e,f, g, h, &c. lying upon each other in the same or¬
der, but altered in their inclination to the horizon. CD
represents a clay or freestone dike or fault, where the
strata are neither elevated nor depressed, but only broken
off and removed to a certain distance. EF represents a
hitch, which breaks off and depresses the strata only a
little, but alters their inclination to the horizon. GH re¬
presents a trouble, where the strata on one side are not
entirely broken off from those on the other, but only in a
crushed and irregular situation.
As some particular strata are found at some times to
increase, and at other times to diminish, in thickness, whilst
others remain the same, consequently they cannot be all
parallel; yet this increase and diminution in thickness
come on very gradually.
The strata are not found disposed in the earth accord¬
ing to their specific gravities, for we often find strata of
very dense matter near the surface ; and perhaps at fifty, or
even a hundred fathoms underneath, we meet with strata
of not half the specific gravity of the first. A stratum of
iron ore is very often found above one of coal, though the
former has twice the gravity of the latter; and, in short,
there is such an absolute uncertainty in forming any judg¬
ment of the disposition of the strata from their specific gra¬
vities, that it cannot in the least be relied upon.
It has been imagined by many, that hills and valleys
are occasioned by those breaches in the strata before men¬
tioned called dikes; but this is contradicted by experi¬
ence. If it was so, we should meet with dikes at the
skirts of the hills, and by the sides of the valleys, and the
sea-shore ; but instead of this, we generally find the strata
lying as uniformly regular under hills and valleys, and be-
neatlr the bottom of the sea (as far as has been yet tried),
as in the most champaign countries. It may happen, in¬
deed, that a dike is met with in some of these places;
but that, being only a casual circumstance, can never be
admitted as a general cause. Whatever irregiflarities are
occasioned in the solid strata by dikes, or other slips and
breaches, are commonly covered over and evened by those
beds of gravel, clay, sand, or soil, which lie uppermost, and
form the outward surface of the earth. Wherever these
softer matters have been carried off, or removed by acci¬
dent, as on the tops of hills and the sides of the valleys,
there the solid strata are exposed, and the dip, rise, and
other circumstances of them may be examined; but no
certain conclusions can be drawn, merely from the un¬
evenness and inequalities of the outward surface.
The preceding observations upon the general disposi-
ij#
tie^1
m
to 2.
COLLIERY.
73
Cilery,
5
ini
the
rder
ch
ie.
Pla
CIX
ig-
tion of the solid strata, are equally applicable to the strata
of coal as to those of stone or other matter.
All the strata of the coal formation do not lie or bear
upon each other in any certain or invariable order. Though
there be found the same kinds of strata in one colliery or
district as in another, yet they may be of very different
thickness. In some places there are most of the hard
kinds, in others most of the softer ; and in any one district
it rarely happens that all the various kinds are found, for
some kinds perhaps occur only once or twice, whilst others
occur ten or twenty times before we reach the principal
stratum of coal.
In order to explain this, suppose the strata in the pit at
ryj A, fig. 3, to lie in the order a, b, c, &c. they may be so
much altered in thickness, by reason of some of them in¬
creasing and others diminishing, at the distance of B, that
they may be found there of very different thickness; or
if they are examined in a pit at D, by reason of its lower
situation, and the strata there not being a continuation of
those in the other places, they may be very different both
in their order and thickness, and yet of the same kinds.
Though they be thus found very different in one colliery
or district from what they are found to be in another, with
respect to thickness and the order in which they lie upon
each other, yet we never meet with a stratum of any kind
of matter that does not belong to some of those above de¬
scribed.
To illustrate how the various strata lie in some places,
and how often the same stratum may occur betwixt the
surface and the coal, we shall give the following example.
The numbers in the left-hand column refer to the classes
of strata before described, to which each belongs; the
second column contains the names of the strata; and the
four numeral columns to the right hand express the thick¬
ness of each stratum, in fathoms, yards, feet, and inches.
Example.
No.
Soil and gravel 
Clay mixed with loose stones...
Coarse brown sandstone, with soft
partings 
White post, with shivery partings,
Black shiver or bleas, with iron¬
stone balls 
Coarse splintycoal 
Soft gray shiver 
Brown and gray post, streaked with
black  
Black shiver, with beds and balls of
ironstone  
Gray and black metalstone  
White and brown post 
Black and gray shiver, streaked
with white  
Soft gray sandstone, with shivery
partings 
Yellow and white post, with sandy
partings 
Black and dun shiver, with iron
stone balls   
White post streaked with black, and
black partings  
Gray shiver, with ironstone balls...
Brown and black metalstone 
Hard slaty black shiver 
Coal, hard and fine splint 
Soft black shiver 
Coal, fine and clear 
Hard black shiver  
Total fathoms : 25
Paths. Yards. Feet. Inches,
In this instance the species of sandstone only occurs
VOL. vii.
twice, post five times, whilst the shiver occurs no less than Colliery,
nine times. V—
To apply the foregoing observations to practice, suppose
it were required to examine whether there was coal in a
piece of ground adjoining to or in the neighbourhood of
other collieries:
In the first place, it is proper to be informed, at some of Methods of
the adjacent collieries, of the number and kinds of strata; searcllin£
the order in which they lie upon each other; to what point *or coa^'
of the horizon, and in what quantity, they dip; and whe¬
ther there be any dikes, hitches, or troubles, and in what
course they stretch. Having learnt these circumstances, Rule 1.
search in die ground under examination where the strata
are exposed to view, and compare these strata with the
other. If they be of the same kinds, and nearly correspond
in order and thickness, and be lying in a regular manner,
and agree by computation with the dip and rise, it may
safely be concluded that the coal is there; and the depth
of it may be judged of from the depth of the coal in the
other colliery, below any particular stratum which is vi¬
sible in this.
If the solid strata are not exposed to view, either in Rule 2.
the hills or valleys of the ground under examination, then
search in the adjoining grounds; and if the same kind of
strata are found there as in the adjacent colliery, and
there is reason, from the dip and other circumstances, to
believe that the ground to be examined has been stretched
through, it may then be concluded that the coal is there,
as well as these other strata.
Suppose a colliery is on the side of a hill at A, fig. 3, Plate
and you would search for coal at B, on the other side of
the hill, but in a much lower situation ; by observing the^S*
several strata lying above the coal at A, and the point to
which they dip, which is directly towards B, if clear of
dikes, you may expect to find the same kind of strata on
the other side of the hill, but much lower down. Accord¬
ingly, if some of the strata are visible in the face of the
precipice C, they may be compared with some of those in
the pit at A ; or, if they are not to be seen there, by
searching in the opposite hill they may perhaps be dis¬
covered at the place F; where, if they be found in the
manner before mentioned, and there be reason to believe
that they extend regularly from the first place to this, it is
more than probable that the coal, as well as these strata,
will be found in the intermediate ground.
If the ground to be examined lie more to the rise of the Rule 3.
coal, as at E, which being supposed to be on a flat, per¬
haps the solid strata there may be wholly covered by the
gravel, clay, &c. of the outward surface lying upon them.
In this case, by measuring the horizontal distance and the
descent of ground from A to E, computing the quantity
of ascent or rise of the coal in that distance, and compar¬
ing these together, it may be judged at what depth the
coal will be found there, supposing that it lies regularly.
Thus, suppose the coal at A eighty yards deep, the dis¬
tance from A to E 500 yards, and that the coal rises one
yard in ten of horizontal distance :
Then, from the depth of the pit   80
Deduct the descent of ground from A to E,
suppose 24
This remainder would be the depth, if the coal
was level 56
But as the coal rises one in ten yards, then de¬
duct what it rises in 500 yards, which is 50
And the remainder is the depth of that coal
at E 6 yards.
Or suppose that the place at B is 500 yards the con-Rule 4.
K
74
COLLIERY.
Colliery, trary way, or to the full clip of the coal at A; if a view of
v-^V^ the solid strata cannot be obtained, then by proceeding in
the same manner as before, the depth of the coal at that
place may be computed. Thus,
To the depth of the coal at the pit A 80
Add the descent or inclination of the coal in
500 yards, which, as before, is 50
This sum would be the depth if the ground
was level 130
But as the ground descends towards B, de¬
duct the quantity of that, which suppose...80
Remains the depth of the coal at B 50 yards.
Rule
If the place to be examined be neither to the full dip
nor full rise, but in some proportion towards either, the
same method may be pursued, computing how much the
coal rises or dips in a certain distance in that direction.
If there is known to be a dike in the workings of the
pit at A, which elevates or depresses the strata towards
the place under examination, then the quantity of the ele¬
vation or depression must be accordingly added to or de¬
ducted from the computed depth of the coal at that place.
Suppose there is an upcast dike of ten fathoms or twenty
yards towards B, then deduct twenty from fifty, the depth
before computed, and there will remain thirty yards or
fifteen fathoms for the depth of the coal at B.
But it often happens that coal is to be searched for in
a part of the country at so considerable a distance from
all other collieries that, by reason of the intervention of
hills, valleys, unknown dikes, &c. the connection or rela¬
tion of the strata with those of any other colliery cannot
be traced by the methods last mentioned; in which case
a more extensive view must be taken of all circumstances
than was necessary in the former one ; and a few general
rules, founded on the foregoing observations, and on con¬
clusions drawn from them, will assist in determining, some¬
times with a great degree of probability, and sometimes
with absolute certainty, whether coal be in any particular
district of country or not.
The first proper step to be taken in such a case is to
take a general view of that district of country intended to
be searched, in order to judge, from the outward appear¬
ance or face of the country, which particular part is the
most likely to contain those kinds of strata favourable to
the production of coal; and consequently such part being
found, it is the most advisable to begin with the examina¬
tion of it.
Mountain- Though the appearance of the outward surface gives no
eus situa- certain or infallible rule to judge of the kinds of strata ly-
tions. jng beneath, yet it gives a probable one; for it is general¬
ly found that a chain of mountains or hills rising to a great
height, and very steep on the sides, is commonly compos¬
ed of strata much harder than, and of different kinds from,
those before described wherein coal is found to lie, and
therefore unfavourable to the production of coal; and these
mountainous situations are also more subject to dikes and
troubles than the lower grounds ; so that if the solid strata
composing them gave even favourable symptoms of coal,
yet the last circumstance would render the quality bad
and the quantity precarious. And, on the whole, it may
be observed, that mountainous situations are found more
Hills and favourable to the production of metals than of coal. It is
valleys. likewise generally found that those districts abounding
with valleys, moderately rising hills, and interspersed with
plains, sometimes of considerable extent, do more com¬
monly contain coal, and those kinds of strata favourable
to its production, than either mountainous or champaign
countries; and a country so situated, especially if at some
|«!e
considerable distance from the mountains, ought to be the Colli
first part appointed for particular examination. Plains, or y Cell"
level grounds of great extent, generally situated by the^bin; ^
sides of rivers, or betwixt such moderate rising grounds
as those last described, are also very favourable to the
production of coal, if the solid strata, and other circum¬
stances in the higher grounds adjoining, be conformable;
for it will scarcely be found, in such a situation, that the
strata are favourable in the rising grounds on both sides
of the plain, and not so in the space betwixt them. But
though plains be in certain circumstances so favourable
to the production of coal, yet it is often more difficult to
be discovered in such a situation than in that before de¬
scribed ; because the clay, soil, and other lax matter,
brought off the higher grounds by rains and other acci¬
dents, have generally covered the surfaces of such plains
to a considerable depth, which prevents the exploration
of the solid strata there, unless they be exposed to view
by digging, quarrying, or some such operation.
That part of the district which abounds with moderate
hills and valleys being fixed upon as most proper to begin
the examination at, the first step to be taken is to examine
all places where the solid strata are exposed to view, which
are called the crops of the strata, as in precipices, hollows,
&c. tracing them as accurately and gradually as the cir¬
cumstances will allow, from the uppermost stratum or
highest part of the ground to the very undermost; and if
they appear to be of the kinds before described, it will be
proper to note in a memorandum book their different thick¬
nesses, the order in which they lie upon each other, the
point of the horizon to which they dip or incline, the
quantity of that inclination, and whether they lie in a re¬
gular state or order. This should be done in every part of
the ground where they can be seen, observing at the same
time, that if a stratum can be found in one place which
has a connection with some other in a second place, and if
this other has a connection with another in a third place,
&c. then, from these separate connections, the joint corre¬
spondence of the whole may be traced, and the strata
which in some places are covered may be known by their
correspondence with those which are exposed to view.
If by this means the crops of all the strata cannot be
seen, which is often the case, and if no coal be discover¬
ed by its crop appearing at the surface, yet if the strata
which have been viewed consist of those kinds before de¬
scribed, and are found lying in a regular order, it is suffi¬
ciently probable that coal may be in that part of the dis¬
trict, although it be concealed from the sight by the sur¬
face of the earth or by other matter. Therefore, at the same Rule
time that the crops of the strata are under examination,
it will be proper to take notice of all such springs of wa¬
ter as seem to be of a mineral nature, particularly those
known by the name of iron water, which precipitate a mud
or sediment of the colour of rust or iron, having a strong
astringent taste. Springs of this kind proceed originally
from those strata which contain beds or balls of iron-ore;
but by reason of the tenacity of the matter of those strata,
the water only disengages itself slowly from them, descend¬
ing into some more porous or open stratum below, where,
gathering in a body, it runs out to the surface in small
streamlets or rills. The stratum of coal is the most general
reservoir of this water ; for the ironstone being lodged in
different kinds of shiver, and the coal commonly connect¬
ed with some of them, it therefore descends into the coal,
where it finds a ready passage through the open backs
and cutters. Sometimes, indeed, it finds some other stia-
tum than coal to collect and transmit it to the surface,
but the difference is easily distinguishable ; for the ocheiy
matter in the water, when it comes from a stratum of coal,
is of a darker rusty colour than when it proceeds from any
r
C ery.
COLLIERY.
75
1U 7-
other, and often brings with it particles and small pieces
of coal; therefore, wherever these two circumstances con¬
cur in a number of these kinds of springs, situated in a
direction from each other answerable to the stretch or to
the inclination of the strata, it may be certain the water
comes off coal, and that the coal lies in a somewhat higher
situation than the apertures of the springs.
There are other springs also which come off coal, but
are not distinguishable from common water, otherwise
than by their astringency, and their having a blue scum
of an oily or glutinous nature swimming upon the surface of
the water. These, in common with the others, bring out
particles of coal, more especially in rainy seasons when
the springs flow with rapidity. If a number of these kinds
are situated in the direction of the strata, as above de¬
scribed ; or if the water does not run forth as in springs,
but only forms a swamp, or an extension of stagnant water
beneath the turf; in either case, it may be depended upon
that this water proceeds from a stratum of coal.
If the stratum of coal is not exposed to view, or cannot
be discovered by the first method of searching for the crop,
although the appearance of the other strata be very favour¬
able, and afford a strong probability of coal being there ;
and if the last-mentioned method of judging of the parti¬
cular place where the crop of the coal may lie, by the
springs of water issuing from it, should, from the defi¬
ciency of those springs, or other circumstances, be thought
equivocal, and not give a satisfactory indication of the
coal; then a further search may be made in all places
where the outward surface, or the stratum of clay or earth,
is turned up by ploughing, ditching, or digging, particu¬
larly in the lower grounds, in hollows, and by the sides of
streams. These places should be strictly examined, to
see if any pieces of coal be intermixed with the substance
of the superior lax strata; if any such be found, and if
they be pretty numerous, and in detached pieces of a firm
substance, with the angles perfect or not much worn, and
the texture of the coal distinguishable, it may be con¬
cluded, that the stratum of coal to which they originally
belonged is at no great distance, but in a situation higher
with respect to the horizon ; and if there be also found
along with the pieces of coal other mineral matter, such
as pieces of shiver or freestone, this is a concurrent proof
that it has come only from a small distance. Though the
two methods before mentioned should only have produced
a strong probability, yet if this last-mentioned place, where
the pieces of coal, &c. are found in the clay, be in a situa¬
tion lower than the springs, such a circumstance, when
joined to the other two, amounts to little less than a
moral certainty that a stratum of coal exists a very little
above the level of the springs. But if, on the contrary,
these pieces of coal are found more sparingly interspersed
in the superior stratum, and if the angles are much fret¬
ted or worn off, and very little of other kinds of mineral
matter is connected with them, it may then be concluded
that they have come from a stratum of coal situated at a
greater distance than in the former case ; and by a strict
search and an accurate comparison of other circumstances,
that particular place may be discovered with as much cer¬
tainty as the other.
After the place is thus discovered where the stratum
of coal is expected to lie concealed, the next proper step
to be taken is to begin digging a pit or hole perpendicu¬
larly down, in order to reach the coal. If the coal has no
solid strata above and beneath it, but be found only em¬
bodied in the clay or other lax matter, it will not be there
of its full thickness, nor so hard and pure as in its perfect
state when inclosed betwixt two solid strata, the upper¬
most called the roof, and the undermost called the pave¬
ment, of the coal. In such situations therefore it becomes
necessary, either to dig a new pit, or to work a mine for- Colliery,
ward until the stratum of coal be found included betwixt
a solid roof and pavement, after which it need not be ex¬
pected to increase much in its thickness : yet as it goes
deeper or farther to the dip, it most likely will improve
in its quality ; for that part of the stratum of coal which
lies near the surface, or only at a small depth, is often de¬
based by a mixture of earth and sundry other impurities
washed down from the surface, through the backs and
cutters, by the rains ; whilst the other part of the stratum
which lies at a greater depth is preserved pure, by the
other solid strata above it intercepting all the mud wash¬
ed from the surface.
The above methods of investigation admit of many dif¬
ferent cases, according to the greater or less number of
favourable circumstances attending each of the modes of
inquiry ; and the result accordingly admits every degree
of probability, from the most distant, even up to absolute
certainty. In some situations the coal will be discover¬
ed by one method alone, in others by a comparison of
certain circumstances attending each method ; whilst in
others again, all the circumstances that can be collected
only lead to a certain degree of probability.
In the last case, where the evidence is only probable,
it will be more advisable to proceed in the search by bor¬
ing a hole through the solid strata in the manner here¬
after described, than by digging or sinking a pit, this being
both cheaper and more expeditious; and in every case
which does not amount to an absolute certainty, this ope¬
ration is necessary to ascertain the real existence of the
coal in that place.
We shall now suppose that a certain district, situated
within a few miles of the sea or some navigable river,
being examined, all the circumstances which offer only
amount to a probability of the coal being there, and that
boring is necessary to ascertain it. We shall therefore
describe the operation of boring to reach the coal; next
the method of clearing it from water, commonly called
tvinning it; and then all the subsequent operations of
working the coal and raising it to the surface, leading it to
the river or harbour, and finally putting it on board the
ships.
Suppose that the ground A, B, C, D, fig. 4, has been of boring
examined, and that, from the appearance of the strata, for the coal,
where they are visible, as at the precipice D, and several^kT?
other places, they are found to be of those kinds usually"/-^*1,
connected with coal, and that the point to which they rise s‘
is directly west towards A ; but the ground being flat, and
covered to a considerable depth with earth, &c. the strata
cannot be viewed in the low grounds; therefore, in this
and all similar situations, the first hole that is bored for a
trial for coal should be on the wrest side of the ground, or
to the full rise of the strata, as at A, where boring down
through the strata 1, 2, 3, suppose ten fathoms, and not
finding coal, it will be better to bore a new hole than to
proceed to a great depth in that place. Proceeding, there¬
fore, as far to the eastward as B, where the stratum 1 of the
first hole is computed to be ten or twelve fathoms deep, a
second hole may be bored, where, boring down through
the strata 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, the stratum 1 is met with, but no
coal. It would be of no use to bore farther in this hole, as
the same strata would be found which were in the hole
A ; therefore, proceeding again as far to the eastward as it
may be computed that the stratum 4 of the second hole will
be met with at the depth of ten or twelve fathoms, a new
hole may be bored C, where, boring through the strata 9,
10, 11, 12, the coal is met with at 13, before the hole pro¬
ceed so deep as the stratum 4 of the former. It is evi¬
dent, that by this method of procedure, neither the coal
nor any other of the strata can be passed over, as the
76 COLL
Colliery, last hole is always bored down to that stratum which was
nearest the surface in the former hole.
The purposes for which boring is used are numerous,
and some of them of the utmost importance in collieries.
In collieries of great extent, although the coal be known
to extend through the whole grounds, yet accidental turns,
and other alterations in the dip, to which the coal is lia¬
ble, render the boring of three or more holes necessary,
to determine exactly to what point of the horizon it dips
or inclines, before any capital operation for the winning of
it can be undertaken; because a very small error in this
may occasion the loss of a great part of the coal, or at least
incur a double expense in recovering it.
Fig. 5. Suppose A, B, C, D, fig. 5, to be a part of an extensive
field of coal, intended to be won or laid dry by a steam-en¬
gine ; according to the course of the dip in adjoining collier¬
ies, the point C is the place at which the engine should be
erected, because the coal dips in the direction of the line
AC, consequently the level line would be in the direction
CD ; but this ought not to be trusted to. Admit that two
holes, 1, 2, are bored to the coal in the direction ol the sup¬
posed dip, at two hundred yards distance from each other,
and a third hole, 3, at two hundred yards distance from
each of them : suppose the coal is found at the hole 1 to be
twenty fathoms deep, and at the hole 2, ten fathoms deep¬
er, but at the hole 3, only eight fathoms deeper than at 1:
then, to find the true level line and dip of the coal, say,
as ten fathoms, the dip from 1 to 2, are to two hundred
yards, the distance, so are eight fathoms, the dip from 1
to 3, to one hundred and sixty yards, the distance from 1
on the line 1, 2, to a, the point upon a level with the hole
3; and again say, as eight fathoms, the dip from 1 to 3,
are to two hundred yards, the distance, so are ten fathoms,
the dip from 1 to 2, to two hundred and fifty yards, the
distance from 1, in direction of the line 1, 3, to b, the
point upon a level with the hole 2. Then let fall the per¬
pendicular 1, c, which will be the true direction of the
dip of the coal, instead of the supposed line AC ; and by
drawing ED and DF parallel to the other lines, the angle
D, and no other place, is the deepest part of the coal, and
the place where the engine should be erected. If it had
been erected at the angle C, the level line would have
gone in the direction c b, by which means about one third
part of the field of coal would have been below the level
of the engine, and perhaps lost, unless another engine was
erected at D.
Boring not only shows the depth at which the coal lies,
but its exact thickness, its hardness, and its quality, whether
close burning or open burning, and whether any foul mix¬
ture is in it or not; also the thickness, hardness, and other
circumstances of all the strata bored through; and from
the quantity of water met with in the boring, some judg¬
ment may be formed of the size of an engine capable of
drawing it, where an engine is necessary. When holes are
to be bored for these purposes, they may be fixed, as nearly
as can be guessed, in such situations as to suit the places
where pits are afterwards to be sunk; by which means
most of the expense may be saved, as these pits would
otherwise require to be bored, when sinking, to discharge
their water into the mire below. There are many other
uses to which boring is applied, as will be explained here¬
after.
For these reasons boring is much practised in England,
and is brought to great perfection; and as the operation
is generally intrusted to a man of integrity, who makes it
his profession, the accounts given by him of the thickness
and other circumstances of the strata are the most accu¬
rate imaginable, and are trusted to with the greatest con¬
fidence ; for as very few gentlemen choose to take a lease
of a new colliery which has not been sufficiently explored
IER Y.
by boring, it is necessary that the account should be faith- Collin #
ful, being the only rule to guide the landlord in letting his rV"
coal, and the tenant in taking it. In Scotland it is not so
generally practised, that operation being commonly left
to any common workman; whence it happens, that it
never has been in any esteem, the accounts given by the
mere operators being so imperfect and equivocal as not
to merit any confidence.
The tools or instruments used in boring are very simple.
The boring rods are made of iron, from three to four feet
long, and about one inch and a half square, with a screw
at each end, by which they are screwed together, and
other rods added, as the hole increases in depth. The
chisel is about eighteen inches long, and two and a half
broad at the end, which being screwed on at the lower
end of the rods, and a piece of timber put through an eye
at the upper end, they are prepared for work. The ope¬
ration is performed by lifting them up a little and letting
them fall again, at the same time turning them a little
round; by a continuance of which motions, a round hole
is fretted or worn through the hardest strata. When the
chisel is blunt, it is taken out, and a scooped instrument,
called a wimble, put on in its stead, by which the dust or
pulverized matter which was worn off the stratum in the
last operation is brought up. By this substance the borers
know exactly the nature of the stratum.they are boring
in; and by any alteration in the working of the rods,
which they become sensible of by the handling, they per¬
ceive the least variation of the strata. The principal part
of the art depends upon keeping the hole clean, and ob¬
serving every variation of the strata with care and atten¬
tion.
The established price of boring in England was some
time ago five shillings per fathom for the first five fathoms,
ten shillings per fathom for the next five fathoms, and fif¬
teen shillings per fathom for the next five fathoms; and
so continually increasing five shillings per fathom at the
end of every five fathoms, the borer finding all kinds of
boring instruments ; but if more than one foot in thickness
of whin occur, he is paid per day.
It is exceedingly uncommon to meet with a stratum ofOfwinri
coal which is naturally dry, or whose subterranean springs the coal
or feeders of water are so very small as to require no
other means than the labour of men to draw off or con¬
duct them away ; for it most commonly happens that the
stratum of coal, and the other strata adjacent, abound so
much in feeders of water, that before access can be had
to the coal, some other methods m^st be pursued to drain
or conduct away these feeders; therefore, after the deep¬
est part of the coal is discovered, the next consideration
is as to the best method of draining it, or, in the miner’s
language, of winning the coal.
If the coal lies in such an elevated situation that a part
of it can be drained by a level brought up from the lower
grounds, then that will be the most natural method ; but
whether it be the most proper or not, depends upon cer¬
tain circumstances. If the situation of the ground be
such that the level would be of great length, or have to
run through very hard strata, and if the quantity of coal
it would drain, or the profits expected to be produced by
that coal, should be inadequate to the expense of carrying
it up ; in such case some other method of winning might
be more proper. Or suppose, in another case, it should be
found that a level can be had to a colliery, which will cost
L.2000, and require five years to bring it up to the coal,
and that it will drain thirty acres of coal when completed;
yet if it be found that a steam-engine, or some other ma¬
chine, can be erected on that colliery for the same sum
of money, in one year, which will drain fifty acres of the
same coal, then this last would be a more proper method
COLLIERY.
than the level; because four years profit would be re¬
ceived by this method before any could come in by the
other; and after the thirty acres drained by the level were
all wrought, a machine of some kind would nevertheless
be necessary to drain the remaining twenty acres ; so that
erecting a machine at first would be on all accounts the
most advisable.
Where a level can be driven in a reasonable time, and
at an adequate expense, to drain a sufficient tract of coal,
it is then the most eligible method of winning, because
the charge of upholding it is generally less than that of
upholding steam-engines or other machines.
If, after consideration of every necessary circumstance, a
level is judged the most proper, it may be begun at the place
appointed, in the manner of an open ditch, about three feet
wide, and carried forward until it be about six or seven
feet deep from the surface, taking care to secure the bot¬
tom and sides by timber work or building, after which it
may be continued in the manner of a mine, about three
feet wide, and three feet and a half high, through the
solid strata, taking care all along to keep the bottom upon
a level, and to secure the roof, sides, and bottom, by tim¬
ber or building, in all places where the strata are not
strong enough to support the incumbent weight, or where
they are liable to decay by their exposure to the fresh
air. If the mine has to be pushed a very long way before
it reach the coal, it may be necessary to sink a small pit,
for the convenience of taking out the stones, and rubbish
produced in working the mine, as well as to supply fresh
air to the workmen ; and if the air should afterwards be¬
come damp, then square wooden pipes made of deals close¬
ly jointed, commonly called air-boxes, may be fixed in the
upper part of the mine, from the pit bottom all the way to
the end of the mine, which will cause a sufficient circula¬
tion of fresh air for the workmen. Perhaps in a great
length it will be found proper to sink other pits upon the
mine, and by proceeding in this manner it may be car¬
ried forward until it arrive at the coal; and after driving
the mine into the coal a few yards to one side, the first
coal-pit may be sunk.
If a level is found impracticable, or for particular rea¬
sons unadvisable, then a steam-engine, or some other ma¬
chine, will be necessary, which should be fixed upon the
deepest part of the coal, or at least so far towards the dip
as will drain a sufficient extent of coal to continue for the
time intended to work the colliery ; but whether a steam-
engine or any other machine is used, it will be of great
advantage to have a partial level brought up to the en¬
gine-pit, if the situation of the ground admit of it at a
small charge, in order to receive and convey away the
water, without drawing it so high as to the surface; for
if the pit were thirty fathoms deep, and if there were a
partial level which received the water five fathoms only
below the surface, the engine by this means would be
enabled to draw one sixth more water than without it;
and if there were any feeders of water in the pit above
this level, they might be conveyed into it, where they
would be discharged without being drawn by the engine.
The engine-pit may be from seven to nine feet wide;
and whether it be circular, oval, or of any other form, is
not very material, provided it be sufficiently strong; though
a circular form is most generally approved. If any feeders
of water are met with a few fathoms from the surface, it
wdl be proper to make a circular or spiral cutting about
one foot deep, and a little hollowed in the bottom round
the circumference of the pit, in order to receive and con¬
duct the water down, without flying over the pit and in¬
commoding the workmen. If the strata are of so tender
or friable a nature as not to bear this operation, or if the
water leaks through them, then it will be necessary to in¬
sert in the cutting before mentioned a circular piece of tim- Colliery,
ber called a crib, hollowed in the same manner, to collect
the water; and a second may be inserted two or three
yards below the first, with a sloping niche down the wall
or side of the pit, to convey the water from the former
into it; proceeding by some of these methods until the
pit is sunk fifteen or twenty fathoms, at which place it
will be pi'oper to fix a cistern or reservoir for the first
or upper set of pumps to stand in : for if the pit be thirty
fathoms, as supposed, it would be too great a length for
the pumps to be all in one set from bottom to top ; there¬
fore, if any extraordinary feeders are met with betwixt
fifteen and twenty fathoms deep, it will be best to fix
the cistern where it may receive them and prevent their
descending to the bottom; observing that the upper set
of pumps be as much larger than the lower one as the ad¬
ditional feeders may require, or if there be no additional
feeders, that it be a little smaller.
After the upper cistern is fixed, the operation may be
pursued by the other set of pumps in much the same man¬
ner as has been described, until the pit is sunk to the coal;
which being done, it would be proper to sink it six or
eight feet deeper, and to work some coal out from the dip
side of the pit, to make room for a large quantity of water
to collect, without incommoding the coal-pits when the
engine is not working.
It would exceed the proper bounds of this article to Accidents
enumerate all the accidents to which engine-pits are liable to which
in sinking; we shall therefore only recite a few whichengine-pits
seem important. are liable.
If a quicksand happens to lie above the solid strata
next the surface, it may be got through by digging the
pit of such a wideness at the top (allowing for the natu¬
ral slope or running of the sand) as to have the proper
size of the pit on the uppermost solid stratum, where, fix¬
ing a wooden frame or tub as the timber-work of the pit,
and covering it round on the outside with wrought clay
up to the top, the sand may again be thrown into the
excavation round the tub, and levelled with the surface.
If the quicksand should happen to lie at a considerable
depth betwixt the clay and solid strata, then a strong tub
of timber, closely jointed and shod with iron, of such a
diameter as the pit will admit, may be let down into it;
and by fixing a great weight upon the top, and by work¬
ing out the sand, it may be made to sink gradually until
it reaches the I’ock or other solid stratum below; and
when all the sand is got out, if it be lightly calked and
secured, it will be sufficient.
It sometimes happens that a stratum of soft matter lying
betwixt two hard and solid ones produces so large a quan¬
tity of water as greatly to incommode the operations. In
such a case, a framework of plank, strengthened with
cribs and closely calked, will keep back the whole or the
greater part of it, provided the true strata which include
it are of a close texture; or let an excavation of about
two feet be made in the soft stratum quite round the cir¬
cumference of the pit, and let that be filled close up be¬
twixt the hard strata with pieces of dry fir timber, about
ten inches square, inserted endwise, and afterwards as
many wooden w’edges driven into them as they can be
made to receive : if this be well finished, little or no water
will find a passage through it.
It rarely happens that any suffocating damp or foul air
is met with in an engine-pit; the falling of water, and the
working of the pumps, generally causing a sufficient cir¬
culation of fresh air; but that kind of combustible vapour
or inflammable air which will catch fire at a candle is of¬
ten met with. It proceeds from the partings, backs, and
cutters of the solid strata; exhaling from some in an insen¬
sible manner, whilst from others it blows with as great
78
COLLIERY.
Colliery, impetuosity as a pair of bellows. When this inflammable
air is permitted to accumulate, it becomes dangerous by
taking fire, and burning or destroying the workmen, and
sometimes by its explosion it will blow the timber out of
the pit and do considerable damage. If a considerable sup¬
ply of fresh air is forced down the pit by air-boxes and a
ventilator, or by dividing the pit into two by a close par¬
tition of deals from top to bottom, or by any other means,
it will be driven out, or so weakened that it will be ot no
dangerous consequence ; or when the inflammable air is
very strong, it may be safely carried off by making a close
sheathing or lining of thin deals quite round the circum¬
ference of the pit, from the top of the solid strata to the
bottom, and lengthening it as the pit is sunk, leaving a
small vacancy behind the sheathing, when the combusti¬
ble matter which exhales from the strata, being confined
behind these deals, may be vented by one or two small
leaden pipes carried from the sheathing to the surface, so
that very little of it can transpire into the area of the pit.
If a candle be applied to the orifice of the pipe at the sur¬
face, the inflammable air will instantly take fire, and con¬
tinue burning like an oil lamp, until it be extinguished by
some external cause. Upon the whole, every method
should be used to make the pit as strong in every part,
and to keep it as dry as possible ; and whenever any acci¬
dent happens, it should be as expeditiously and thorough¬
ly repaired as possible before any other operation be pro¬
ceeded in, lest an additional one follow, which would more
than double the difficulty of repairing it.
Of working The first operations, after sinking the engine-pit, are
the coal, the working or driving a mine in the coal, and sinking
the first coal-pit. The situation of the first coal-pit should
be a little to the rise of the engine-pit, that the water
which collects there may not obstruct the working of the
coals every time the engine stops ; and it should not exceed
the distance of twenty, thirty, or forty yards; because,
when the first mine has to be driven a long way, it be¬
comes both difficult and expensive. If there be not a
sufficient circulation of fresh air in the mine, it may be
supplied by the air-boxes before described, and a ventila¬
tor, until it arrives below the intended, coal-pit, when the
pit may be bored and sunk to the coal in the manner pre¬
viously mentioned.
After the pit is thus sunk down to the coal, the next con¬
sideration should be the best method of working it. The
most general practice in Scotland is to excavate and take
away a part only of the stratum of coal in the first work¬
ing of the pit, leaving the other part as pillars for support¬
ing the root; and after the coal is wrought in this manner
to such a distance from the pit as intended, then these
pillars, or so many of them as can be got, are taken out
by a second working, and the roof and other solid strata
above permitted to fall down and fill up the excavation.
The quantity of coal wrought away, and the size of the
pillars left in the first working, are proportioned to the
hardness and strength of the coal and other strata adja¬
cent, compared with the incumbent weight of the superior
strata.
The same mode of working is pursued in most parts of
England, differing only as the circumstances of the col¬
liery may require ; for the English coal, particularly in the
northern counties, being of a fine tender texture, and of
the close burning kind, and also the roof and pavement of
the coal in general not being so strong as in Scotland,
they are obliged to leave a larger proportion of coal in
the pillars for supporting the roof during the first time of
working; and in the second working as many of these
pillars are wrought away as can be done with safety.
The Scotch coal in general being very hard, and of the
open burning kind, it is necessary to work it in such a
manner as to produce as many great coals as possible, CollieK
which is best effected by taking away as large a propor- yy
tion of the coal as circumstances will admit in the first
working. On the contrary, the English coal being very
tender, cannot possibly be wrought large ; nor is jt of
much importance how small they are, being of so rich a
quality ; so that a larger proportion may be left in pillars
in this coal than could with propriety be done in the
other; and, when all circumstances are considered, each
method seems well adapted to the different purposes in¬
tended.
The ancient method of working was, to work away as
much of the coal as could be got with safety at one work¬
ing only, by which means the pillars were left so small as
to be crushed by the weight of the superior strata, and
entirely lost. As great quantities of coals were lost by
this method, it is now generally exploded, and the former
adopted in its place, by which a much larger quantity of
coal is obtained from the same extent of ground, and at a
much less expense in the end.
The exact proportion of coal proper to be wrought
away, and to be left in pillars at the first working, may be
judged of by a comparison of the circumstances before
mentioned. If the roof and pavement are both strong, as
well as the coal, and the pit about thirty fathoms deep,
then two thirds, or probably three fourths, may be taken
away at the first working, and one third or one fourth left
in pillars. If both roof and pavement be soft and tender,
then a larger portion must be left in pillars, probably one
third or nearly one half; and in all cases the hardness or
strength of the coal must be considered. If tender, it
will require a larger pillar than hard coal; because, by
being exposed to the air after the first working, a part of
it will moulder and fall off, by which it will lose much of
its solidity and resistance.
The proportion to be wrought away and left in pillars
being determined, the next proper step is to fix upon such
dimensions of the pillars to be left, and of the excavations
from which the coal is to be taken away, as may produce
that proportion. In order to form a just idea of this,
see a plan of part of a pit’s workings (fig. 6), supposed to Plate
be at the depth of thirty fathoms, and the coal having aCLX:,
moderate rise. A represents the engine-pit ; B the coal¬
pit ; AaB the mine from the former to the latter; BC the
first working or excavation made from the coal-pit, com¬
monly called the winning mine or winning headway, nine
feet wide ; hhhb, &c. the workings called rooms, turned off
at right angles from the others, of the width of twelve
feet; cccc, &c. the workings called ihroughers or thirlings,
nine feet wide, wrought through at right angles from one
room to another; ddd, &c. the pillars of coal left at the first
working for supporting the roof, eighteen feet long and
twelve feet broad; DD two large pillars ot coal near the
pit bottom, fifteen or twenty yards long, and ten or fifteen
broad, to support the pit, and prevent its being damaged
by the roof falling in; ee the level mine wrought in the
coal from the engine-pit bottom, four or five feet wide -,ff,
&c. large pillars of coal left next the level, to secure it from
any damage by the roof falling in; gg a dike which de¬
presses the coal, one fathom; lih, &c. large pillars and bai-
riers of coal left unwrought, adjoining to the dike where
the roof is tender, to prevent its falling down. The coal
taken out by the first working in this pit is supposed to be
one third of the whole ; and allowing the rooms to be twelve
feet wide, and the thirlings nine feet wide, then the pillars
will require to be twelve feet wide and eighteen feet long ;
for if one pillar be in a certain proportion to its adjoining
room and thirling, the whole number of pillars will be in
the same proportion to the whole number of rooms and
thirlinore in the nit. Suppose ABCD (fig. 7) to be a pil-Ug' /
COLLIERY.
79
lar of coal eighteen feet long and twelve feet broad, its
area will be 216 square feet; ACHE the adjoining thir¬
ling, twelve feet by nine feet, and its area 108 square feet;
BAEFG the adjoining room, twenty-seven feet long and
twelve feet broad, and its area 324; square feet, which
added to 108, gives 432 square feet, or two thirds wrought,
and 216 square feet left, or one third of the whole area
FGHD.
It is proper to observe, that in the prosecution of the
workings, the rooms to the right of the winning headway
should be opposite to the pillars on the left, and the first,
third, and fifth pillar, or the second, fourth, and sixth, ad¬
joining to the said headway, should be of such a length
as to overlay the adjoining thirlings, as in the plan the
pillar 2 overlays the thirlings 1 and 3, and the pillar 4
overlays the thirlings 3 and 5. This will effectually
support the roof of the main road BC, and will bring the
other pillars into their regular order, by which means
each pillar will be opposite to two thirlings. A larger
proportion of coal than common should also be left in
all places which are intended to be kept open after the
second working, such as the pit-bottoms, air-courses, roads,
and water-courses, or where the roof is tender, as it gene¬
rally is near dikes, hitches, and troubles ; and if the roof
should continue tender for a considerable space, it will
perhaps be found proper to leave a few inches of coal ad¬
hering to the roof, which, together with a few props of
timber fixed under it, may support it effectually for a long
time. The level mine ee, and the winning headway BC,
should be wrought forward a considerable length before
the other rooms, in order to be driven through any dikes
that might interpose, otherwise the progress of the work¬
ings might probably be stopped a considerable time wait¬
ing until a course of new rooms were procured on the other
side of the dike. Suppose the dike gg, fig. 6, to depress
the coal six feet or one fathom, and that it rises in the
same manner on the under side of the dike as it does on
the upper side; in such a case the only remedy would be
to work or drive a level mine through the strata of stone,
from the engine level at e over the dike, until it intersect
the coal at i, and from thence to drive a new level mine
in the coal at ii, and a new winning headway ik. In order
to gain a new set of rooms, and to supply fresh air to this
new operation, a small mine might be driven from the
room/*, and a hole sunk down upon the level room ii;
therefore, if the level mine ee was not driven so far for¬
ward as to have all these operations completed before the
rooms and other workings were intercepted by the dike,
the working of the pit might cease until these new places
were ready.
If there be two or three strata or seams of coal in the
same pit, as there often are, having only a stratum of a few
feet thick interposed betwixt them, it is then material to
observe that every pillar in the second seam be placed im¬
mediately before one in the first, and every pillar in the
third seam below one in the second; and in such a situa¬
tion the upper stratum of coal ought to be first wrought,
or else all the three together; for it would be unsafe to
work the lower one first, lest the roof should break, and
damage those lying above.
It sometimes becomes necessary to work the coal lying
to the dip of the engine or the level, which coal is con¬
sequently drowned with water, and must therefore be
drained by some means before it can be wrought. If the
quantity of water proceeding from it be inconsiderable, it
may then be drained by small pumps laid upon the pave¬
ment of the coal, and wrought by men or horses, to raise
the water up to the level of the engine-pit bottom ; or if
the feeders of water be more considerable, and the situa¬
tion be suitable, the working rod of these pumps might be
connected with those in the engine-pit, by which means
the water would be raised up to the level; but if the
quantity of water be very great, or if, from other circum¬
stances, these methods may not be applicable, then the
engine-pit may be sunk as deep below the coal as may be
necessary, and a level stone mine driven from its bottom
to the dip of the strata, until it intersect the stratum of coal,
from whence a new level mine might be wrought, which
would effectually drain it. Suppose AB, fig. 8, to be a
section of the engine-pit, BC the coal drained by the en¬
gine, BD the coal to the dip of the engine intended to be
drained; then if the engine-pit be sunk deeper to E, a
stone mine may be wrought in the direction FD, until it
intersect the coal at D, by which the water will have a
free passage to the engine, and the coal will be drained.
If there be another stratum of coal lying at such a depth
below the first as the engine-pit is intended to be sunk to,
the upper seam may in some situations be conveniently
drained by driving a mine in the lower seam of coal from
E to F, and another in the upper one from B to D; and
by boring a hole from D to F, the water will descend to
F", and, filling the mine EF, rise up to the engine-pit bot¬
tom at E, which is upon a level with D.
Whenever it is judged necessary to work the pillars,
regard must be had to the nature of the roof. If the roof
is tender, a narrow room may be wrought through the
pillar from one end to the other, leaving only a shell of
coal on each side for supporting the roof during the time
of working. Suppose ABCD, fig. 7, to be a pillar of coal
eighteen feet long and twelve feet broad ; if the roof is not
strong, the room 1, 2, 3, 4, of eight feet wide, may be
wrought up through that pillar, leaving a shell of two
feet thick on each side ; and if it can be safely done, a
part of these shells may also be wrought away by working
two places through them, as at 5 and 6. By this means
very little of the coal will be lost; for two thirds of the
whole being obtained by the first working, and above two
thirds of the pillar by the second working, the loss upon
the whole would not exceed one tenth ; but it may be ob¬
served that some pillars will not produce so great a pro¬
portion, and others perhaps cannot be wrought at all; so
that, upon the whole, there may be about one sixth, one
seventh, or, in some situations, but one eighth part of the
coal lost. If the roof be hard and strong, then as much
coal may be wrought off each side and each end of the
pillar as can be done with safety, leaving only a small
piece standing in the middle ; and when the roof is very
strong, sometimes several pillars may be taken entirely
out without any loss of coal; and in general this last me¬
thod is attended with less loss, and produces larger coals,
than the former. In all cases it is proper to begin work¬
ing those pillars first which lie farthest from the bottom
of the pit, and to proceed working them regularly away to¬
wards the pit; but if there be a great number of pillars
to the dip of the pit, it is the safest method to work these
out before those to the rise of the pit are commenced
withal.
There is no great difference in the weight of different
kinds of coals, the lightest being about seventy-four pounds
avoirdupois, and the heaviest about seventy-nine pounds,
the cubic foot; but the most usual weight is seventy-
five pounds the foot, which is eighteen hundredweight
and nine pounds the cubic yard. The statute chaldron is
fifty-three hundredweight; or, when measured, is as fol¬
lows : 268*8 cubic inches to the Winchester gallon ; four
and a half gallons to the coal peck, about three pounds
weight; eight coal pecks to the boll, about 247^- pounds;
and twenty-four bolls to the chaldron of fifty-three hundred¬
weight. If one coal measuring exactly a cubic yard, and
nearly equal to five bolls, be broken into pieces of a mo-
Colliery.
80
COLLIERY.
Colliery.
derate size, it will measure seven coal bolls and a half
If broken very small it will measure nine bolls, which
shows that the proportion of the weight to the measure
depends upon the size of the coals; therefore accounting
by weight is the most rational method.
the coal pillars ; but if it has already made some progress, Collie
J-' —• f       ~ J AW'- —Ji
then the best method is to work away as many of the yv
A table of the weight and quantity of coal contained in
one aci’e Scotch measure, allowing one sixth part to be
lost below ground, in seams of the following thickness.
Thickness of Coal.
Feet. Inches.
Weight in Tons.
Quantity in
Chaldrons.
3068
3835
4602
5369
6136
6903
7670
8437
7204
1158—
1447 +
1736 +
2026 +
2315 +
2604 +
2894 +
3183 +
3473 +
Of crushes
and sits.
We shall next mention some of the various methods of
bringing the coals from the rooms and other workings to
the bottom of the pit. Where the stratum of coal is of a suf¬
ficient thickness, and has a moderate rise and dip, the coals
are most advantageously brought out by horses, who draw
out the coals in a tub or basket placed upon a sledge. A
horse by this means will bring out from four to eight hun¬
dredweight of coals at once, according to the quantity of
ascent or descent. In some collieries they have access to
the workings by a mine made for them, sloping down from
the surface of the earth to the coal; and where that con¬
venience is wanting, they are bound into a net, and lower¬
ed down the pit. "if the coal be not of such a height as
to admit horses, and has a moderate rise like the last, then
men are employed to bring out the coals: they usually
draw a basket of four or five hundredweight of coals fix¬
ed upon a small four-wheeled carriage. I here are some
situations in which neither horses nor men can be pro¬
perly used, particularly where the coal has a great degree
of descent, or where many dikes occur. In such a case
the coals are best brought out by women called bearers,
who carry them in a kind of basket upon their backs, usu¬
ally a hundredweight or a hundredweight and a half at
once.
When the coals are brought to the bottom of the pit, the
baskets are then hooked on to a chain, and drawn up the
pit by a rope to the surface, which is commonly effected by
a machine called a gin, wrought by horses. There are other
kinds of gins for drawing coals, some wrought by water,
others by the vibrating lever of a steam-engine. After
the coals are got to the surface, they are drawn a small
distance from the pit, and laid in separate heaps; the
larger coals in one heap, the smaller pieces called chews
in another, and the culm or pan-coal in a separate place.
There is an accident of a very dangerous nature to
which all collieries are liable, and which has been the ruin
of several; it is called a crush or a sit. When the pillars
of coal are left so small as to fail, or yield under the
weight of the superior strata; or when the pavement of
the coal is so soft as to permit the pillars to sink into it,
which sometimes happens, by the great weight that lies
upon them; in either case the solid stratum above the
coal breaks and falls in, crushes the pillar to pieces, and
closes up a great extent of the workings, or probably the
whole colliery. As such an accident seldom comes on
suddenly, if it be perceived in the beginning, it may some¬
times be stopped by building large pillars of stone amongst
coal pillars adjoining to the crush as may be sufficient to
let the roof fall freely down; and if it makes a breach of
the solid strata from the coal up to the surface, it will
very probably prevent the crush from proceeding any far¬
ther in that part of the colliery. If the crush begins in
the rising part of the colliery, it is more difficult to stop it
from proceeding to the dip, than'it is to stop it from going
to the rise when it begins in a contrary part.
Another circumstance proper to be taken notice of is Foul a
the foul or adulterated air so often troublesome in collie¬
ries. Of this there are two kinds; the black damp or
styth, which is of a suffocating nature; and the inflamma¬
ble or combustible damp. Without staying to inquire in
this place into the origin and effects of these damps, it
may be sufficient to observe, that, in whatever part of any
colliery a constant supply or circulation of fresh air is
wanting, there some of these damps exist, accumulate in a
volume, and become noxious or fatal; but whenever there
is a good circulation of fresh air, they cannot accumulate,
being mixed with and carried away by the stream of air,
as fast as they generate or exhale from the strata. Upon
these principles are founded the several methods of ven¬
tilating a colliery. Suppose the workings of the pits A
and B (fig. 6) to be obnoxious to the inflammable damps ;piate
if the communication was open betwixt the two pits, theCIX:
air which went down the pit A would proceed immediate¬
ly along the mine a, and ascend out of the pit B; for it
naturally takes the nearest direction, so that the air in all
the workings would be stagnant; and they would be ut¬
terly inaccessible from the accumulation of the combusti¬
ble damp. In order to expel this, the air must be made
to circulate through all the different rooms by means of
collateral air-courses made in this manner. The passage
or mine a must be closed up or stopped by a partition of
deals, or by a wall built with bricks or stones, to prevent
the air passing that way. This building is called a stop¬
ping. There must also be stoppings made in the thir-
lings 111, &c. between the pillars ff &c. which will direct
the air up the mine e, e, until it arrives at the innermost
thirling 2, which is to be left open for its passage. There
must also be stoppings made at the side of the mine a at
m m, and on both sides of the main headway BC at bb,
&c.; then returning to the innermost thirling 2, proceed to
the third row of pillars, and build up the thirlings 2 2, &c.
leaving open the thirling 3 for a passage for the air; and
proceeding on to the fifth row of pillars, build up in the same
manner the stoppings 3 3, &c. leaving open 4 for an air-
course. And by proceeding in this manner to stop up
the thirlings or passages in every other row of pillars, the
current of fresh air will circulate through and ventilate
the whole workings in the direction pointed to by the
small arrows in the plan, clearing away all the damps and
noxious vapours that may generate. When it is arrived
at C, it is conducted across the main headway, and car¬
ried through the other part of the pit’s workings in the
same manner, until it returns through n n, to the pit B,
where it ascends; and as the rooms advance farther, other
stoppings are regularly made. In some of those stoppings
on the sides of the main headway, there must be doors
to admit a passage for the bringing out of the coals from
the rooms to the pit, as at 5 5. These doors must be con¬
stantly shut, except at the time of passing through them.
There are other methods of disposing the stoppings so
as to ventilate the pit, but none which will so effectually
disperse the damps as that above described. If the damps
are not very abundant, then the course of stopping 1 1 1,
&c. in the level mine, and the others at bbb, &c. in the
main headway, without any others, may perhaps be suffi-
itlli
COLLIERY.
81
Colj 'W
nd
P
)fl
P-
Ofii-
ning
cient to keep the pit clear. If at any time the circulation
of the fresh air is not brisk enough, then a large lamp of
fire may be placed at the bottom of the pit B, which, by
rarefying the air there, will occasion a quicker circulation.
Most of the larger collieries send their coals to the ships
for the coasting trade or exportation; and, as the quanti¬
ty is generally very large, it would take a greater number
of carts than could conveniently be obtained at all times
to carry them, besides the considerable expense of that
manner of carriage ; they therefore generally use waggons
for carrying them along railways, laid with timber or iron,
by which means one horse will draw from two to ten tons
at a time, when, in a cart, not above one ton could be
drawn.
The first thing to be done in making a railway of tim¬
ber, is to level the ground in such a manner as to take off
all sudden ascents and descents ; to effect which it is some¬
times necessary to cut through hills, and to raise an em¬
bankment to carry the road through hollows. The road
should be formed about twelve feet wide, and no part
should have a greater descent than one yard perpendi¬
cular in ten of a horizontal line, nor a greater ascent than
one yard in thirty. After the road is formed, pieces of
timber about six feet long and six inches diameter, call¬
ed sleepers, are laid across it, being eighteen or twenty-
four inches distant from each other. Upon these sleepers
other pieces of timber, called rails, of four or five inches
square, are laid in a lateral direction, four feet distant
from each other, for the waggon-wheels to run upon;
which being firmly pinned to the sleepers, the road may
then be filled with gravel, and finished.
The waggons have four wheels, either made of solid
wood or of cast iron. The body of the carriage is longer and
wider at the top than at the bottom, and usually has a kind
of trap-door at the bottom, which, being loosed, permit^
the coals to run out without any trouble. The size of a
waggon to carry fifty hundredweight of coals is as fol¬
lows :—
Feet. Inches.
Length of the top 7 9
Breadth of the top 5 0
Length of the bottom   5 0
Breadth of the bottom 2 6
Perpendicular height 4 3
Railways were at first made with timber, as above de¬
scribed, but are now generally made with cast or bar iron
rails, laid upon blocks of stone; for a particular account
of which see Wood on Railways.
What is above described was the common method of
winning and working coal forty years ago, and is yet in
general use. We shall now describe improvements which
have been made and adopted with success in many of the
English and Scotch coal-mines.
What is generally called the winning of a colliery, is
the draining of a field of coal, so as to render the several
seams accessible, by pits to be sunk from the surface.
In order to determine the most eligible situation for a
winning, it is requisite that the field of coal to be obtained
by it should have been previously explored by the methods
above stated.
Supposing the field of coal (see profile A, B, Plate
CLXXIV. fig. 1) to have been explored , by the borings
a, b, c, d, and the crop of the seams e, and that it is deter¬
mined to win the tract of coal in the seams C, D, extend¬
ing from the ravine at a, to the crop of the seams at e.
In this case an adit or day-level drift or mine, rf, is set
in from the ravine near to a, and is carried forward in a
direct line until it cuts the seam C at f. This day-level
drift also cuts the bore-hole b at-/ by which the strati¬
fication from 6 to f is drained, and a coal-pit is then sunk
VOL. VII.
upon the bore-hole bf, from the surface to the seam C, Colliery,
with great facility.
In prosecuting the working of the coal from the pit f,
towards the bore-hole C, a downthrow slip-dike gg is met
with, which depresses the seam C to E. The extent of
this depression is ascertained by driving an horizontal
stone-drift from where the seam C terminates at the dike
g g to h, and by putting down the bore-hole i.
The day-level drift is then continued from f till it cuts
the seam at E ; and by carrying it forward to the bore-hole
C, another coal-pit, cj, is obtained, in the same manner as
at b.
From j the working of the seam is carried on progres¬
sively until the upthrow slip-dike kk is met with. An ho¬
rizontal drift is then extended from l to m, from which one
boring is made upwards to the seam C, and another down¬
wards to the seam D, by which the position of both seams
is proved. The day-level drift may then be extended from
the pit cj through the dike kk into the seam D to n, to
open out the bore-hole d, on which another coal-pit may
be sunk through the seam C to the seam D, which may
also be wrought by the pit d n, as well as the seam C.
The workings in both seams may now be carried on from
the pit d n till they encounter the whin dike o o, which
must be set through by carrying a drift through it on the
same line of ascent as the seam leading to it, as dikes of
this description seldom alter the level of the strata which
they intersect. From the whin dike the working of both
seams may be carried on without further difficulty to the
crop of the coal at e.
This tract of coal, or colliery, may now be supposed to
be wrought to the utmost extent that is available, by the
day-level winning, and that it is determined to win the
coal lying below this level by a steam-engine.
An engine-pit, F G, is, therefore, sunk upon the day-
level drift f, and through the seam C to D, below which
the pump-well or lodge H is dug. After the sinking of the
engine-pit is completed, a drift is carried forward towards
the rise of the seam to L, where it will cut the bore-hole
bf, and allow the coal-pit to be sunk from/1 to L ; and the
dike gg having been already explored, the water-course,
or engine-level drift, is carried forward from the lodge at
H, till it cuts the lower seam D at K, and thence forward
in the seam D till it cuts also the bore-hole cj and the
upthrow dike kk successively, by which the whole extent
of the seam D from G, by K to k, is drained and wrought
by the pits b and c, which have been sunk by the bore-holes
discharging the water from them into the engine-level.
It will be readily seen by referring to the profile, that
the engine lifts the water no higher than the day-level
drift/, by which it is discharged from the pump at r into
the day-level drift, and thence into the ravine at a. The
dip part of the upper seam C may also be won as far as S,
by extending the engine level drift from the lodge H to
S, as shown by the dotted lines.
This mode of winning collieries can, however, onlybe pur¬
sued where the localities of the situation render it eligible ;
but as it frequently happens that collieries are to be won
where the surface of the ground is so nearly horizontal as
not to admit of any benefit being derived from a day-level
drift, it is necessary in such cases to draw the water to the
surface by one or more steam-engines, as the case may re¬
quire.
It frequently happens in situations of this kind, as in the
neighbourhood of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, that great diffi¬
culties are encountered in the sinking through quicksands
and very large feeders of water, some of which have been
ascertained to communicate with the river Tyne.
The quicksands lie at various depths from the surface,
as low as thirty fathoms and upwards; but the largest
82
COLLIERY.
Colliery, feeders of water are seldom met with at a greater depth
•'"'Y'"*-'' than fifty fathoms. The quicksands vary much in thick¬
ness, as the feeders of water do in quantity; but a feeder
which discharged nearly 4000 gallons per minute has been
met with in one shaft. As it would be impracticable to
draw such a quantity of water from the bottom of those
deepmines, except at an expense which could not be afford¬
ed, they are always stopped back by what is called tub¬
bing and wedging, which is done by fixing w'ater-tight cy¬
linders of wood or cast iron within the circumference of
the shaft, so as completely to dam back the water, and
prevent its falling to the bottom of the pit. In some cases
water has been dammed back in this manner to the height
of seventy fathoms, and at an expense of L.120 per fa¬
thom, or upwards. Quicksands are also passed through and
dammed back by tubs or cylinders of wood or cast iron,
which are generally lowered down by ropes from the top
of the pit, until they pass through the sand, and rest on
the solid strata below.
As the sinking of the pits under the above circumstan¬
ces is attended with great expense and difficulty, no more
are sunk than what may be barely necessary to work the
destined part of coal below, and in some cases a whole
colliery is wrought by one pit.
In situations of this kind, where the whole of the opera¬
tions of the mine, as the drawing of coals and water, as
well as the ventilation of the workings, are to be carried
on by one pit, it follows that such pits must be made of
large diameter, and divided into separate shafts.
They have, therefore, been sunk from nine to sixteen
feet in diameter, and divided into two, three, and four se¬
parate shafts by brattice, or partitions of deal boards, ac¬
cording to the circumstances and extent of the mine.
Plate CLXXIV. fig. 2, represents a pit of nine feet dia¬
meter, which is divided by the brattice or partition a, b,
into a coal shaft A, and an engine shaft B.
Fig. 3 represents a pjt of sixteen feet diameter, divided
by the partitions a, b, c, into two coal shafts AA, and an
engine shaft B.
Fig. 4 represents a pit of sixteen feet diameter, divided
into three coal shafts AAA, and an engine shaft B, by the
partitions a, b, c, d.
In practice it has been found that the mode of dividing
the shaft, as shown by fig. 2, is the most eligible.
Collieries have been wrought td a great extent by pits
of this description; the workings have been sometimes
carried to the distance of two miles from the bottom, and
the height of the air-course has exceeded thirty miles.
Several of the pits constructed in this manner in the New¬
castle district exceed 100 fathoms in depth, and some are
nearly 150 fathoms deep.
Most of these large double pits have powerful steam-
engines upon them for pumping water; they are general¬
ly of Mr Watt’s construction, double power, and usually
exceed 100 horses’ power, besides one or two more of the
same construction for drawing coals, of from twenty to
thirty horses’ power.
As the principal feeders of water lie near the surface,
the pumping engine is generally erected when the sinking
commences. The pumps, which are now invariably made
of cast iron, are suspended by ropes, and lowered down by
capstans as the sinking proceeds.
Hods of fir timber six or seven inches square, called
ground-spears, are placed, according to the size of the
pumps they have to bear, one on each side of the column
or set of cast-iron pipes, to which they are firmly tied at
every nine feet by cords called lashings. A five-fold block
is fixed to the top of each ground-spear, the tail-ropes or
falls of which pass round capstans placed near the top of
the pit, by which the column of cast-iron pipes in the pit
can be raised or lowered at pleasure. A column of pipes, Collie,-
generally called a “ set of pumps,” suspended in this way, 'WY/
is as steady as if it was firmly fixed in a frame of timber.
Pumps of sixteen to eighteen inches diameter may be car¬
ried to the depth of fifty fathoms in this way, if necessary;
but, in this case, it is expedient to add a third pair of
blocks.
It is, however, only in cases of necessity that columns
of pipes of this length are suspended on ground-spears and
ropes, as, if circumstances will permit, the column of pipes
ought to be firmly fixed in a cistern at the depth of twen¬
ty-five or thirty fathoms; but in many cases no dry situ¬
ation can be met with in which to place the cistern, till
the pit is sunk below the level of the large top-feeders,
and consequently below the tubbing, in which it has not
yet been found practicable to fix a cistern.
While the pipes are suspended in the manner above
described, they are called sinking sets; after they are fix¬
ed on cisterns they are called standing sets.
Fig. 5 represents the method of suspending cast-iron
pipes for sinking, aa, The iron blocks and ground ropes,
with their falls, bb, leading to the capstans placed in any
convenient situation near the top of the pit.
dd, The iron UU’s which connect the blocks with the
tops of the ground-spears ee.
c, The hoggar-pump, generally made of fir staves, and
fixed by an iron flange and bolts to the uppermost cast-
iron pipe. Always when the increased depth of the pit
requires an additional pipe, the hoggar- pump is taken off,
and put on the top of the new pipe again.
f, The hoggar or leathern case, which delivers the water
into the laundry box.
g, The flexibility of the hoggar enables it to accommo¬
date itself to the gradual lowering of the pipes as the
depth of the pit increases.
hh. The bottom rods which connect the ground-spears
with the wind-bore of the pumps. The wings ii are cast
upon the wind bore, for the purpose of attaching the bot¬
tom rods to it by slots or bolts.
kkk, The lashings by which the pipes are fixed to the
ground-spears.
m, The pump-rod, wrought by the engine.
n, The snore-holes of the pump, which are plugged up,
or kept open, as may be required by the sinkers.
Fig. 6. shows the method of fixing a standing set of
pumps.
a, The bunton, made of the root end of a large oak, ten
feet long and three feet square; but the larger the better.
The inner end, which is the thickest, is placed in a recess
cut in the stone, and the outer end is supported by an
abutment of solid stone b, left in the pit.
The inner end of the bunton is firmly held down by
wooden props cc.
f, The cistern in which the pumps are placed, and into
which the water from another set, either of sinking or
standing pumps, may be delivered. The cistern is firmly
fixed upon the bunton, and a recess is made in the side
of the pit to receive it, and props d may be placed to fas¬
ten it down. The larger the cistern the better; there is
no rule for regulating its size ; but it ought, if possible, to
be large enough to contain as much water as will supply
its own pump, until the pump below delivers into it when
the engine begins to work.
g. The set of standing pumps placed in the cistern.
hhhh. The bunions, with their cross collarings, ini.
The buntons have one end fixed in the shaft wad, and
the other is fastened to a cleat k, which is nailed to the
shaft brattice ll.
Fig. 7 shows a plan of the manner of fixing a bunton
and cistern for supporting a stand-set of pumps.
j.;.
loll
COLLIERY.
83
f th tiif-
renine-
ods i
orki::.
L. aaaa Shows the recess cut in the side of the pit, with
inj tiie bunton laid in its place. The inner end of the recess
is cut dove-tailed, and the bunton wedged into it. so that
it is prevented from moving forward by the shock of the
pumps when the engine is at work. The dotted lines
show the situation of the cistern when placed on the bun-
ton.
b, The pumps in the cistern.
cc, The situation in which the succeeding sets of pumps
may be placed.
d, The main or shaft brattice.
e, The bunton to which the cross collarings//are nail¬
ed, for securing the pumps in their proper position.
As all the operations of the engineers should be per¬
formed in the engine-shaft, without interrupting the draw¬
ing of coals in the other shafts of a double pit, as much
room as possible should be preserved in the engine-shaft,
by occupying as small a space in collaring the pumps as
circumstances will permit.
For this purpose, iron stirrups have for some time been
introduced in the place of cross collarings of wood, with
great advantage.
If the cross collaring, g, fig. 7, was extended to the
brattice, as shown by the dotted lines, and fixed to it by
a cleat, in the same manner as the bunton e; by putting
an iron stirrup round the pump, with its ends passed
through the collaring#, and fastened behind by the screw-
nuts n, the bunton e and cross collarings ff may be dis¬
pensed with, which will give much more room in the en¬
gine-shaft.
. Thus far we have described the most improved me¬
thods of winning a colliery of considerable extent and
depth. There are two distinct methods of working the
coal, the narrow, and the long or broad way. The narrow
way is commenced by cutting passages through the coal,
both lengthwise and across, leaving rectangular pillars be¬
tween the passages. By the first operation one third of
the coal is generally taken out; but where the strength
of the coals and the firmness of the roof will permit, a
greater or less proportion of the pillars which remain are
afterwards removed, commencing with the most distant,
and ending with those nearest the pit. By the broad
way, the coal is wrought out at once, frequently for a
length of 150 yards in one face, without leaving any pillars
of coal to support the r’oof. The former method is adapt¬
ed to beds of coal which occur at a considerable depth
beneath the surface, from 50 to 150 fathoms ; the latter
to beds which lie nearer the surface, espepially if they
have a tolerably strong roof.
An improved system having, within the last twentyyears,
been brought to a state of high perfection, by the ingeni¬
ous Mr Buddie of Wall's End, we are happy in being en¬
abled to avail ourselves of the description of it, as given,
under his correction, by Mr Griffith, in his excellent Re¬
port on the Leinster Coal District. By means of Mr Bud¬
die’s plan, from seven eighths to nine tenths of the coal is
at present raised ; whilst, previous to the adoption of his
system, but one half, and frequently less, was all that
could be obtained; and, therefore, through his exertions,
the coal owners of the north of England may be said to
have increased their property at least one third, as more
coal than is equal to that proportion is now raised out of
the same area than could be effected according to the old
system.
Mr Buddie’ s ingenuity has not been confined to the im¬
provement of the method of working coal; he has also in¬
troduced a more perfect system of ventilation, and has
put in practice many simple but excellent contrivances,
not only to prevent the accumulation of inflammable air in
any part, but also by using hanging doors, which yield to
the blast of inflammable air, and are not carried away, to Colliery,
prevent a general explosion throughout the mine when
any cavity containing inflammable air is broken into acci¬
dentally as the works extend. By this means, when the
first blast is over, the lives of the colliers and horses in
the distant parts are preserved. We shall at present
confine ourselves to the different methods of working and
supplying fresh air to the most distant parts of an exten¬
sive collier^'’, by one or more pits.
Plate CLXXV. fig. 1, represents the plan of the improved
system of working and ventilating collieries in Newcastle-
upon-Tyne. A represents the pit; B, the furnace ; C, under
level drift; D, the staple or air-pit; E, water level line;
F, district commencing first working ; G, district beginning
to take off the pillars ; H, district finished the first work¬
ing ; L, double doors.
The circle below the letter A is intended to represent
a pit or shaft, divided from top to bottom by a boarded
partition nicely joined, so as to prevent the communica¬
tion of air from one side of the pit to the other. Through
the right-hand division of this pit, which is called the
downcast, the air descends. Having passed through all
the excavations that have been made through the mine,
which are represented by the white or uncoloured divi¬
sions, it passes up the left-hand division of the pit. To
aid the draught of air, a great fire is made in the furnace
at B, which rarefies the air, and causes it to ascend more
quickly through the upcast pit or division. The arrows
point out the direction of the course of the air throughout
the mine, and the red marks are walls or stoppings built
to force the passage of the air in particular directions.
The dark-coloured parts in the plate represent the un¬
wrought part of the coal.
The principal advantage of the new mode of working
is, that it divides the mine into any convenient number of
districts, each of which is to be wrought out in its turn,
and the roof suffered to close in. But to prevent the
crush created by the falling in of the roof in one part, from
communicating with and injuring the coal in another, a
great protecting pillar or wall of coal is left between each
division. By examining the figure, the several divisions
or districts may be easily traced, by observing the line of '
large pillars.
The first operation of working the coal is represented
clearly in the district E. From the bottom of the pit two
parallel passages are cut, three yards broad and twelve
yards asunder, at convenient distances; cross-cut pas¬
sages, or headings, are driven to connect the parallel pas¬
sages, and thereby create a complete circulation or cur¬
rent of air.
The parallel passages are then continued until air again
becomes deficient; a second heading is then cut, and the
first is carefully closed up, so as to force the air round a
lengthened circuit. This process is continued uninter¬
ruptedly round the district, as represented in fig. 1. The
district being thus surrounded, broad passages, called
boards or rooms, are then commenced at the lower end of
the district, and are cut at regular distances upward, to¬
wards the parallel passages first described. The breadth
of the boards, and that of the pillars of coal left between
them, is continually varied, according to the nature of the
strata which form the roof and floor of the mine. In the
district F, the boards are represented in progress; this is
also the case in the district K ; when the boards and head¬
ings have been made throughout a whole district, this is
represented by those of G and H. The next operation is
to remove all the pillars ; those at the farthest extremity
of the district are first cut out. This operation is perform¬
ed either by commencing at one end, and proceeding re¬
gularly to the other, or by cutting the pillar in the middle,
if r
84
COLLIERY.
Colliery, and setting a number of men to work at it. But this must
depend on the strength of the roof. A few of the pillars
of the district BG are represented as being removed, and
the whole of the coal that could be carried away is repre¬
sented as being wrought out of district I, nothing except
the trifling quantity represented by the black lines being
left behind. When the pillars of the district G have been
wrought out nearly to the boundary pillar between the
districts I and G, the boundaries should be-divided by
boards and headways, and a considerable portion of them
may thus be removed.
Owing to the frequent mistakes of sinking pits in impro¬
per situations, the pit A is placed in a position with re¬
spect to the colliery, that is frequently seen in practice,
namely, a great part of the coal field lying to the dip, or
under the natural water level of the pit. By observing
the direction of the dip and rise, as represented on the
plan by the great arrow, it is evident that, without some
contrivance, no coal could be level or water-free below a
line drawn across the pit A, at right angles to the arrow;
and consequently, half the coal of the districts F and G,
and the whole of the district K, must have been left be¬
hind. To overcome this evil, the pit A is supposed to be
sunk below the coal to a depth more than equal to the le¬
vel of the coal at M; and a drift or passage is supposed
to be horizontally cut through the strata beneath the bed
of coal, till it meets the coal at M. By this means the dis¬
trict K may be freed from water. Had the pit been ori¬
ginally sunk nearer to M, all the expense and trouble of
driving the stone drift would have been avoided 1
lar is removing. In this case the centre part is left, and Collin
both ends are carried away.
The consequence of working the boards too wide is re¬
presented in the elevation, fig. 3. The pillars on either side
of the board g, are represented as much broken both at
top and bottom by the pressure of the roof and floor, and
the coal is rendered useless. Besides, the passage through
the board is nearly closed by the approach of the roof and
floor towards each other. The board h represents the
appearance in elevation of one that is driven of a proper
width. In this case the coal on both sides is solid, and
the roof and floor remain in their original positions. In
working all collieries, it is better to drive the boards too
narrow than too broad. In the first case, when the pillars
are to be removed, the roof and the coal are both sound,
and the whole of it may with safety be removed; but, in
the latter, the centre of the pillars only, as represented by
bb in the plate, can be removed.
We shall now lay before our readers Mr Griffith’s ac¬
count of the broad method of working. A good account
may also be found in Mr Farey’s Survey of Derbyshire.
Many of the shallow and thin beds of coal in Yorkshire
are worked in the broad way; but the breadth of the banks
vary in almost every colliery, from certain local circum¬
stances. We shall describe one, the principles of which
may be applied to any shallow colliery; and the proper
breadth of the banks, which depends on the nature of the
roof, will be determined better by practice than precept.
Fig. 4 represents a very simple and excellent method
of working in the broad way. A shaft is divided into two
W
It frequently happens, that the stoppages or walls built parts, in the manner already described; BBB are double
to direct the ventilation interrupt the communication from drifts, with proper headings for air ; CC and DD are banks,
the various parts where the coal is working to the pit bot- each thirty yards broad ; the dotted marks represent three
tom. When this happens, a door is placed at a convenient rows of wooden pillars which support the roof. The light
distance on either side of the wall, which may then be re- shade represents the parts already worked out where the
moved; and the leader of the coal waggons, as he passes
along, opens the first door, and having led his waggons
past, shuts it, and then opens the second door, by which
means the regular ventilation of the mine is constantly
preserved.
According to the plan just described, very extensive
roof has fallen.
The first operation in the work is to drive the several
double drifts. Those on each side of the pit must be com¬
pleted to the full extent before any other workings can
go on. The three double drifts at right angles to the
first may then be commenced; and, having advanced
collieries are worked from one pit; and passages or boards, twenty or thirty yards, the great working or bank may be
amounting in the aggregate to thirty miles in length, are commenced by breaking down the coal along the lines EE
perfectly ventilated by a single pit. upwards. The coals are drawn from the face cf the banks
The mode of passing the air through the different pas- on both sides, through the openings or headings by which
sages or boards varies according to circumstances. When the air is introduced, as represented by the arrows. I
a very quick current is required, the air is passed up one and F are double doors to prevent the air from the left
board and down the next, or as represented in the plate, bank returning directly to the pit; by this means it is
or up two boards and down two, or up three boards and forced along the face ot the workings in the right bank,
down three. But in small collieries, or where no inflam- The first banks being proceeded on to a certain distance,
mable air is met with, the passages of air round the boun¬
daries of a district, as that of F, leaving all the ends of the
passages or boards open for the air to circulate, is found
sufficient. At the great collieries at Newcastle, the ven¬
tilation consists of a current of air of thirty-six square feet,
moving with a velocity of three feet in a second
a third and fourth may be commenced to the right and
left, and others may be wrought to the rise by connecting
the rise drifts by cross ones at right angles to them, and
working upwards from the cross drifts in the manner that
has been described.
According to this plan, a very extensive colliery may
The different modes of removing the pillars according be worked from one pit; but horses should be used to
to circumstances, are represented in fig. 2, Plate CLXXV.
aa, cc, d, and e, are the different modes of working pillars,
where it is necessary to preserve the air-courses. The pil¬
lars are wrought in the manner represented at bb, where
the outer parts are much damaged and cracked by the
draw the coal under ground; and if the coal be thin,
part of either the floor or roof must be removed to give
sufficient headway. The most approved method of con¬
veying the coals from the face of the work to the pit bot¬
tom is the following: First, a light cast-iron railway must
pressure of the roof and door ; and ff when the roof is be laid from the pit bottom through all the main passages
not sufficiently strong to remain up while the whole pil- of the colliery, and, branching from these, small movable
1 There are, however, many reasons which may render it expedient, in particular cases, to avoid fixing the engine-pit on the low¬
est level of the coal-field; as when a slip or dike divides a small portion of the lower part of the field from the rest, &c. In this case
the coal wrought to the dip of the pit may easily be brought up to the drawing-pit by a high pressure engine, fixed in some conve¬
nient station at the head of an inclined plane.
COL
railways should be laid, from the nearest point of the main
passage, or mother-gate as it is usually called, to the face
of the workings. When the collier has broken down the
coals, another man, known by the name of putter, hurrier,
&c. is employed to fill the coal into a wicker basket or
wooden box, placed on a wooden carriage with iron wdieels;
this is pushed to the mother-gate, along the railway, and
the putter returns with an empty box, which has been
placed in the mother-gate; a waggon-boy arrives from
the pit, leading a horse, which draws six carriages chained
COL 85
together, each having an empty box on it. These boxes Coliing-
are lifted off; and, by means of a small crane, the full wood,
boxes are successively raised and placed on the carriages,
which, when thus laden, are drawn by the horse along the
railway to the pit bottom, whence the boxes are drawn
up to the surface, and the empty ones returned.
The reader w ill find much useful information on the
ventilation of mines in Mr Buddie’s valuable tract, en¬
titled The First Report of the Sunderland Society for pre¬
venting Accidents in Coal Mines.
COLLINGWOOD, Cuthbert, first Lord Collingwood,
a celebrated naval commander, was born at Newcastle-
upon-Tyne, on the 26th of September 1750. He was
early sent to school, and when only eleven years of age
was put on board the Shannon, then under the command
of Captain, afterwards Admiral, Brathwaite, a relation of
his own, and to whose care and attention he was in a great
measure indebted for that nautical knowledge which shone
forth so conspicuously in his subsequent career. After serv¬
ing under Captain Brathwaite for some years, and also under
Admiral Roddam, he in 1774 went to Boston with Admi¬
ral Graves, who in the year following presented him with
a lieutenancy. After occupying the same rank in two
other vessels, he was in 1779 made commander of the Bad¬
ger, and shortly afterwards post-captain of the Hinchin-
broke, a small frigate. In the spring of 1780 that vessel,
under the command of Nelson, was employed upon an ex¬
pedition to the Spanish Main, where it was proposed to
pass into the Pacific by a navigation of boats along the
river San Juan, and the lakes Nicaragua and Leon. The
attempt failed, and most of those engaged in it became vic¬
tims to the deadly influence of the climate. Nelson was
promoted to a larger vessel, and Collingwood succeeded
him in the command. It is a fact worthy of record, that
the circumstance of the latter succeeding the former
should so very frequently have occurred from the time
when they first became acquainted, until the fatal day
when the star of Nelson “ dropp’d from its zenith,” and set
in the bay of Trafalgar, giving place to that of Colling¬
wood, less brilliant certainly, but not less steady in its
lustre.
After commanding in another small frigate, Collingwood
was promoted to the Sampson of sixty-four guns; and in
1783 he was appointed to the Mediator, destined for the
West Indies, where, with Nelson, who had a command on
that station, he remained until the latter end of 1786.
With Nelson he warmly co-operated in carrying into exe¬
cution the provisions of the navigation laws, which had
been infringed by the United States, whose ships, not¬
withstanding the separation of the countries, continued to
trade to the West Indies, although that privilege was by
law exclusively confined to British vessels. In 1786 Col¬
lingwood returned to England, where, with the exception
of a voyage to the West Indies, he remained until 1793,
in which year he was appointed captain of the Prince, the
flag-ship of Rear-admiral Bowyer. About two years pre¬
vious to this event he had entered into the matrimonial
state. This alliance was a fortunate one, and continued
to be a solace to him amidst all those privations to which
the life of a seaman must ever subject him.
As captain of the Barfleur, Collingwood was present at
the celebrated naval engagement which was fought on
the 1st of June 1794, and on that occasion he displayed
equal judgment and courage. On board the Excellent
he shared in the victory of the 14th of February 1797,
when Sir John Jarvis humbled the Spanish fleet olf Cape
St Vincent. His conduct in this engagement was the
theme of universal admiration throughout the fleet, and
greatly advanced his fame as a naval officer. After block¬
ading Cadiz for some time, he returned for a few weeks to
Portsmouth to repair. In the beginning of 1799 he was
raised to the rank of vice-admiral, and hoisting his flag
in the Triumph, joined the Channel fleet, with which he
proceeded to the Mediterranean, where the principal na¬
val forces of France and Spain were assembled. Colling¬
wood continued actively employed in watching the enemy
until the peace of Amiens restored him to more tranquil
delights in the bosom of his family.
The domestic repose, however, which he so highly re¬
lished was cut short by the recommencement of hostilities
with France; and, in the spring of 1803, he quitted the
home to which he never again returned. The duty upon
which he was employed was that of watching the French
fleet off Brest; and in the discharge of it he displayed the
most unwearied vigilance. Nearly two years were spent
in this employment; but Napoleon having at length ma¬
tured his plans and equipped his armament, service of a
more active description was immediately to be expected.
The grand struggle, which the nations looked forward to
with breathless suspense, and which was to decide the
fate of Europe and the dominion of the sea, was close at
hand. The enemy’s fleet having sailed from Toulon, Ad¬
miral Collingwood was appointed to the command of a
squadron, with orders to pursue the enemy. The com¬
bined fleets of France and Spain, after spreading terror
throughout the West Indies, returned to Cadiz. On their
way thither they bore down upon Admiral Collingwood,
who had only three vessels with him; but he succeeded
in eluding the pursuit, although chased by sixteen ships
of the line. Ere one half of the enemy had entered the
harbour he drew up before it and resumed the blockade,
at the same time employing an ingenious artifice to con¬
ceal the inferiority of his force. But the combined fleet
was at last compelled to quit Cadiz, and the battle of
Trafalgar immediately followed. The brilliant conduct of
Admiral Collingwood upon this occasion has been much
and justly applauded. It is unnecessary to enter into a
full detail of the battle (for an account of which see the
article Britain) ; but a short outline is necessary, in or¬
der to show that no small portion of the glory of that day
belongs to Collingwood. The French admiral drew up
his fleet in the form of a crescent, and in a double line,
every alternate ship being about a cable’s length to wind¬
ward of her second, both ahead and astern. The Bri¬
tish fleet bore down upon this formidable and skilfully
arranged armament in two separate lines, the one led by
Nelson in the Victory, and the other by Collingwood in
the Royal Sovereign. The latter vessel was the swift¬
est sailer, and shooting considerably ahead of the rest
of the fleet, was the first engaged. “ See,” said Nelson,
pointing to the Royal Sovereign, as she penetrated the
centre of the enemy’s line, “ see how that noble fellow
Collingwood carries his ship into action !” Probably it
was at the same instant that Collingwood, his mind kindled
86 COL COL
Colling- up with the same generous and ennobling sentiments, and
wood, as if in response to the observation of his great command-
er, remarked to his captain, “ What would Nelson give to
be here !” The consummate valour and skill evinced by
Collingwood had a powerful moral influence upon both
fleets. It inspired with unbounded confidence in their
commanders those who scarcely needed any incentive to
do their duty in the bravest manner: and, on the other
hand, the French admiral, struck with the noble daring
displayed, was seized with a dark presentiment of the
fate which a few short hours too fatally realized. It was
with the Spanish admiral’s ship that the Royal Sovereign
closed; and with such rapidity and precision did she pour
in her broadsides upon the Santa Anna, that the latter
was on the eve of striking in the midst of thirty-three
sail of the line, and almost before another British ship
had fired a gun. Several other vessels, however, seeing
the imminent peril of the Spanish flag-ship, came to her
assistance, and hemmed in the Royal Sovereign on all
sides ; but the latter, after suffering severely, was relieved
by the arrival of the rest of the British squadron, and not
long afterwards the Santa Anna struck her colours. The
result of the battle of Trafalgar, and the expense at which it
was purchased, are well known. On the death of Nelson,
Collingwood assumed the supreme command, and by his
skill and judgment greatly contributed to the preservation
of the British ships, as well as of those which were cap¬
tured from the enemy. He was raised to the peerage,
and received the thanks of both houses of parliament, with
the grant of a pension of L.2000 per annum.
From this period until the death of Lord Collingwood no
great naval action w'as fought; but he was much occupied
in important political transactions, in which he displayed
uncommon tact and judgment. Being appointed to the
command of the Mediterranean fleet, he continued to
cruize about, keeping a watchful eye upon the movements
of the enemy. But his health, which had begun to decline
previously to the action of Trafalgar in 180b, seemed en¬
tirely to give way; and he repeatedly requested govern¬
ment to be relieved of his command, that he might return
home; but he was urgently requested to remain, on the
ground that his country could not dispense with his ser¬
vices. This conduct has been regarded as harsh, and cer¬
tainly it does not appear very amiable when we consider
the age of Lord Collingwood, his long and active services,
and the arduous nature of the enterprise in which he had
embarked. But it cannot be denied that the remarkable
good sense and political sagacity which he displayed in the
various transactions with which he was connected at that
critical and eventful period, in some measure affords a pal¬
liation of the conduct of the government which decreed
that he should perish at his post. And it puts the esti¬
mation in which he was held in a very conspicuous point
of view, that amongst the many able admirals, equal in
rank and duration of service, none stood so prominently
forward as to command the confidence of ministers and of
the country to the same extent as he did. After many
fruitless attempts to induce the enemy to put to sea, as
well as to fall in with them when they had done so (which
circumstance materially contributed to hasten his dissolu¬
tion), he expired on the 7th of March 1810.
Lord Collingwood’s merits as a naval officer were in
every respect of the first order. In original genius and
romantic daring he w’as inferior to Nelson, who indeed had
no equal in an age fertile in great commanders. In sea¬
manship, in general talent, and in reasoning upon the
probability of events from a number of conflicting and
ambiguous statements, Collingwood was equal to the hero
of the Nile; indeed many who were familiar with both
give him the palm of superiority. His political penetra¬
tion was remarkable ; and so high was the opinion gene- Collir,,;
rail)' entertained of his judgment, that he was consulted
in all quarters, and on all occasions, upon questions of ge¬
neral policy, of regulation, and even of trade. In his mo¬
ral character he was distinguished for benevolence and
generosity. His acts of charity were frequent and boun¬
tiful, and the petition of real distress was never rejected
by him. He was an enemy to impressment and to flog¬
ging ; and so kind was he to his crew, that he obtained
amongst them the honourable name of father. Between
Nelson and Collingwood a close intimacy subsisted, from
their first acquaintance in early life till the fall of the for¬
mer at Trafalgar. In their lives they did not so much dif¬
fer as in the manner of their deaths. The one expired in
the arms of victory, while the other died piecemeal with
harassing fatigue and care in the pursuit of an enemy
whom he had sought with unexampled perseverance to
encounter, but in vain. In death they are not divided,
lying side by side in the Cathedral of St Paul’s. The
selections from the public and private correspondence of
Lord Collingwood, published in 2 vols. 8vo in 1828, con¬
tain some of the best specimens of letter-writing that our
language affords.
COLLINS, Anthony, a polemical writer, born at Hes¬
ton, near Hounslow, in the county of Middlesex, in 1676,
was the son of Henry Collins, a gentleman of about L.1500
a-year. He was first bred at Eton College, and then went
to King’s College, Cambridge, where he had for his tutor
Mr Francis Hare, afterwards Bishop of Chichester. He
was subsequently a student of the Temple ; but not relish¬
ing the law, he soon abandoned the study. Fie was an in¬
genious man, and the author of several curious books. His
first remarkable piece was published in 1707, being en¬
titled An Essay concern™y the Use of Reason in Propo¬
sitions, the Evidence whereof depends on Human Testimony.
In 1702, he entered into the controversy between Mr
Clarke and Dr Dodwell concerning the immortality of the
soul. In 1713, he published his discourse on Free-think¬
ing, which made a prodigious noise. In 1725 he retired
into the county of Essex, and acted as a justice of peace
and deputy-lieutenant for the same county, as he had be¬
fore done for that of Middlesex and the liberty of West¬
minster. The same year he published a Philosophical
Essay concerning Human Liberty. In 1718 he was chosen
treasurer of the county of Essex; and this office he dis¬
charged with great credit. In 1724 he published his His¬
torical and Critical Essay on the Thirty-nine Articles. Soon
afterwards he published his Discourse of the Grounds and
Reasons of the Christian Religion; to which is prefixed
An Apology for Free Debate and Liberty of Writing;
which piece was immediately attacked by a great number
of authors. In 1726 appeared his Scheme oj Literary
Prophecy considered, in a. View of the Controversy occa¬
sioned by a late Book, entitled A Discourse of the Grounds,
Sec. In this Discourse he mentions a manuscript disserta¬
tion of his, showing that the Sibylline oracles were a for¬
gery executed in the times of the primitive Christians,
who, for that reason, were called Sibyllists by the Pagans;
but it never appeared in print. Flis Scheme oj Literary
Prophecy was replied to by several writers, and particularly
by Dr John Rogers, in his Necessity of Divine Revelation
asserted; in answer to which our author wrote A Letter
to the Reverend Dr Rogers, on the occasion on this publi¬
cation. His health began to decline some years before
his death ; and he w'as much afflicted with the stone,
which at last put an end to his life, at his house in Har¬
ley Square, in 1729. He was interred in Oxford Chapel,
where a monument, with an epitaph in Latin, was erected
to his memory. His curious library was open to men of
letters, to whom he readily communicated all the assist-
COL
dU. ance in his power; he even furnished his antagonists with
books to confute himself, and directed them how to give
their arguments all the force of which they were capable.
He was, independently of his scepticism, a sincerely good
man.
Collins, William, an admired poet, was born at Chi¬
chester about the year 1724. He received his classical
education at Winchester, after which he studied at New
College in Oxford, was admitted a commoner of King’s
College in the same university, and at length elected a
demy of Magdalene College. Whilst at Oxford he ap¬
plied himself to the study of poetry, and published his
Oriental Eclogues; after which became to London. He
was naturally possessed of an ear for all the varieties of
harmony and modulation ; his heart was susceptible of the
finest feelings of tenderness and humanity, and was par¬
ticularly carried away by that high enthusiasm which
gives to imagination its strongest colouring; and he was
at once capable of soothing the ear with the melody of
his numbers, of influencing the passions by the force of
pathos, and of gratifying the fancy by the luxury of de¬
scription. With these {towers he attempted lyric poetry,
and in 1746 published his Odes descriptive and alle¬
gorical ; but the sale of this work being not at all an¬
swerable to its merit, he, from a feeling of indignation,
burnt the remaining copies. Being a man of a liberal
spirit and small fortune, his pecuniary resources were un¬
happily soon exhausted; and his life became a miserable
example of necessity, indolence, and dissipation. He pro¬
jected books which he was well able to execute, and be¬
came in idea an historian, a critic, and a dramatic poet;
but he wanted the means and encouragement to carry
these ideas into execution. Day succeeded day, for the
support of which he had made no provision ; and he was
obliged to subsist, either by the repeated contributions of
friends or the generosity of casual acquaintance. His spi¬
rits became oppressed, and he sunk into a sullen despon¬
dence. Whilst in this gloomy state of mind, his uncle
Colonel Martin died, and left him a considerable fortune.
But this came too late for enjoyment; he had been so
long harassed by anxiety and distress, that he fell into a
nervous disorder, which at length reduced the finest un¬
derstanding to the most deplorable childishness. In the
first stages of this disorder he endeavoured to relieve him¬
self by travelling, and passed into France; but his grow¬
ing malady obliged him to return ; and having, with short
intervals, continued in this pitiable state till the year 1756,
he died in the arms of his sister.
The following character of the poetry of Collins is drawn
by Mrs Barbauld, and is extracted from an essay prefixed
to an edition of his works published in 1797. “ He will
be acknowledged to possess imagination, sweetness, bold
I and figurative language. His numbers dwell on the ear,
and easily fix themselves in the memory. His vein of sen¬
timent is by turns tender and lofty, alw'ays tinged with a
degree ot melancholy, but not possessing any claim to ori¬
ginality. His originality consists in his manner, in the
highly figurative garb m which he clothes abstract ideas,
in the felicity of his expressions, and his skill in embody¬
ing ideal creations. He had much of the mysticism of
poetry, and sometimes became obscure, by aiming at im¬
pressions stronger than he had clear and well-defined ideas
to support. Had his life been prolonged, and had he with
ife^ enjoyed that ease which is necessary for the undis-
turbed exercise of the faculties, he would probably have
risen fin- above most of his contemporaries.”
ihe last and best edition of his works is that published
, ^ l!e Jifv. A. Dyce in 1827, in 8vo. It contains his Life
by Dr Johnson, observations on his waitings by Dr Lang-
horne, and biographical and critical notes by the editorf
C O L 87
COLLINSON, Peter, an eminent naturalist and anti- Coilinson.
quary, descended of an ancient family, was born on the
paternal estate called Hugal Hall, or Height of Hagai, near
Windermere lake, in the parish of Stavely, about ten miles
from Kendal, in Westmoreland. Whilst a youth, he disco¬
vered an attachment to natural history. He began early
to make a collection of dried specimens of plants, and had
access to the best gardens at that time in the neighbour¬
hood of London. He became early acquainted with the
most eminent naturalists of his time, and Drs Derham,
Woodward, Hale, Lloyd, and Sloane, were amongst his
friends. Amongst the great variety of articles which form
that superb collection, now, by the wise disposition of Sir
Hans and the munificence of parliament, the British Mu¬
seum, small was the number of those with whose history
Mr Gollinson was not well acquainted ; he being one of the
few who visited Sir Hans at all times familiarly. Their in¬
clinations and pursuits in respect of natural history being
the same, a firm friendship had early been established be¬
tween them. Peter Coilinson was elected a fellow of the
Royal Society on the 12th of December 1728, and perhaps
was one of the most diligent and useful members, not only
in supplying them with many curious observations himsehj
but in promoting and preserving a most extensive corre¬
spondence with learned and ingenious foreigners in all
countries, and on every useful subject. Besides his atten¬
tion to natural history, he minuted every striking hint that
occurred either in reading or conversation; and from this
source he derived much information, as there were very
few men of learning and ingenuity who were not of his
acquaintance at home; and most f oreigners of eminence
in natural history, or in arts and sciences, were recom-
mended to his notice and friendship. His diligence and
economy of time were such, that though he never appear¬
ed to be in a hurry, he maintained an extensive corre¬
spondence with great punctuality; acquainting the learned
and ingenious in distant parts of the globe with the dis¬
coveries and improvements in natural history in this coun¬
try, and receiving the like information from the most emi¬
nent persons in almost every other. His correspondence
with the ingenious Cadwallader Golden, Esq. of New
York, and the celebrated Dr Franklin of Philadelphia, fur¬
nish instances of the benefit resulting from his attention
to all improvements. Ihe latter of these gentlemen com¬
municated his first essays on electricity to Mr Collinson,
in a series of letters, which were then published, and have
since been reprinted in an edition of the doctor’s discoveries
and improvements. Perhaps, at some future period, the
account of the management of sheep in Spain, published
in the (rentleman s Magazine for May and June 1764, may
not be considered as among the least of the benefits ac¬
cruing from his extensive and inquisitive correspondence.
His conversation, which was cheerful and entertaining,
rendered his acquaintance much desired by those who
had a relish for natural history, or were studious in cul¬
tivating rural improvements; and it secured him the in-
timate friendship of some ot the most eminent personages
in this kingdom, distinguished for their taste in planting
and horticulture, as well as for their rank and dignity. Pie
was the first who introduced the great variety of seeds
and shrubs which are now the principal ornaments of
every garden; and it was owing to his indefatigable in¬
dustry that groves transplanted from the western conti¬
nent may be seen flourishing as luxuriantly in their seve¬
ral domains as if they had already become indigenous to
Britain. He had correspondents in almost every nation in
Europe, and some in Asia, nay even at Pekin; who all
transmitted to him the most valuable seeds they could col¬
lect, in return for the treasures of America. The great Un-
neeus, during his residence in England, contracted an inti-
88
COL
COL
CoUinua mate friendship with Mr Collinson, which was strength-
mentum" ed by a multitude of reciprocal good offices, and continued
|| to the last. Besides his attachment to natural history, he
Colman. was very conversant with the antiquities of our own coun-
-v-'-"' try, on account of which he was elected a member of the
Society of Antiquaries in April 1737; and he supplied
them often with many curious articles of intelligence and
observation respecting both our own and other countries.
He died in 1768, leaving behind him many materials for
the improvement of natural history.
COLL1QUAMENTUM, in Natural History, a very
transparent fluid in an egg, observable after two or three
days incubation, containing the first rudiments of the chick.
It is included in one of its own proper membranes, dis¬
tinct from the albumen. Harvey calls it the oculus.
COLLIQUATION, in Chemistry, is applied to animal,
vegetable, and mineral substances, tending towards fusion.
COLLUMPTON, a market-town in the hundred of
Hayridge, in Devonshire, 165 miles distant from London,
and situated on the river Culm, which runs into the
Exe. It had considerable trade in making serges, which
is now much diminished. Ihe market, which is held on
Saturday, is well attended. The inhabitants amounted in
1811 to 2917, in 1821 to 3410, and in 1831 to 3813.
COLLUTHIANS, a religious sect who rose about the
beginning of the fourth century, on occasion of the indul¬
gence granted to Arius by Alexander, patriarch of Alex¬
andria. Several people being scandalized at so much con¬
descension, and, among the rest, Colluthus, a priest of the
same city, he made this a pretence for holding separate
assemblies, and by degrees proceeded to the ordination of
priests, as if he had been a bishop, pretending a necessity
for this authority in order to oppose Arius. To his schism
he added heresy, teaching that God did not create the
wicked; that he was not author of the evils which befal
men; and other doctrines equally heterodox. He was
condemned by a council held at Alexandria by Osius, in
the year 330.
COLLYBUS, (KoXXuGos), in Antiquity, the same with
what is now called the rate of exchange.
COLLYRAi, or Collyrides, in Antiquity, a certain
ornament of hair, worn by the women on their necks. It
was made up in the form of the small roundish cakes xo?.-
Xupai, collyrce.
COLLYRIDIANS, in church history, a sect, towards
the close of the fourth century, denominated from a little
cake, called by the Greeks xoXXugiS/a, collyridia, which
they offered to the Virgin Mary. This sect, it seems,
consisted chiefly of Arabian women, who, out of an ex¬
travagant devotion to the Virgin, met on a certain day
in the year to celebrate a solemn feast, and to render di¬
vine honours to Mary as to a goddess, eating the cake
which they offered in her name. St Epiphanius, who re¬
lates the history of this superstitious cermony, ridicules it.
COLMAN, George, a miscellaneous and theatrical
writer, was born at Florence about the year 1733. He
was the son of Mr Colman, at that time British resident at
the court of the Duke of Tuscany, and of a sister of the
Countess of Bath. He received the early part of his
education at Westminster School, where Lloyd, Churchill,
and some others, who afterwards became distinguished
literary characters, were among his intimate companions.
While at school he appeared in the character of a poet,
having addressed a copy of verses to his cousin Lord
Pulteney, which were afterwards published in the ma¬
gazine of St James. He was next sent to Christ Chui ch
College, Oxford, where he gave many proofs of his lively
genius, uniting with Thornton in producing a weekly pe¬
riodical paper entitled the Connoisseur, which was con¬
tinued from January 1754 to September 1756, and after¬
wards published in 4 vols. 12mo. Although this work met Colaj
not with an equal share of approbation with the World, |j
the Adventurer, and the Rambler, which made their ap- Cologi
pearance much about the same time, yet it may with jus-
tice be affirmed, that some papers of it are superior to
any which these performances contain, for a ludicrous de¬
lineation of the current manners, which has always been
considered as an essential department of every periodical
work. When Mr Colman took the degree of A. M. he
left the college and resided in London. He entered at
Lincoln’s Inn, and in proper time was admitted to the
bar ; but literary pursuits were much more consonant to
the bent of his genius. He published in 1760 a dra¬
matic piece of great humour, called Polly Honeycomb,
which was successfully acted in Drury Lane; and the fol¬
lowing year he gave the world his comedy of the Jea¬
lous Wife, deemed the best which had for many years
appeared. By the demise of Lord Bath he came into the
possession of a handsome fortune, and it was further aug¬
mented by the death of General Pulteney in 1767. He
still continued to write for the stage, and produced, along
with Garrick, the Clandestine Marriage. He also trans¬
lated the comedies of Terence into a kind of blank verse,
which gained him considerable applause.
Soon after this he made a purchase of Haymarket
theatre from Mr Samuel Foote, which he supplied with
pieces either original or translations, and selected the
ablest actors, particularly in comedy. To a translation
he made of Horace’s Art of Poetry, he prefixed an ingeni¬
ous account of the intention of its author; and added im¬
portance to the whole work by many critical notes. The
Genius, and the Gentlemen, were other two of his perfor¬
mances, as also a number of small pieces of the humorous
kind. His understanding was much impaired by a stroke
of the palsy, which seized him in the year 1789, in conse¬
quence of which melancholy event his son was intrusted
with the management of the theatre. He died in the
month of August 1794, in the 62d year of his age.
COLMAR, an arrondissement of the department of the
Upper Rhine, in France. It extends over 660 square
miles, and contains thirteen cantons, with 142 communes,
and 156,970 inhabitants. The chief place, a city of the
same name, is situated on a beautiful plain, with a canal
connected with others extending to Basle in Switzerland.
It was formerly more completely fortified than it is at
present. It is the seat of the local judicatures, and has
an institution for the instruction of artillery officers. It
contains 1278 houses, and 11,033 inhabitants. There are
some large cotton manufactories, and near to it are royal
establishments for refining saltpetre and making gunpow¬
der. It is said that 1600 pounds of the latter can be fa¬
bricated daily. There is one of the finest nursery gardens
in France, with an orangery 150 feet in length. It is in
long. 7. 29. 55. E. and lat. 48. 4. 44. N.
COLMENAR, Viejo, a town situated on the Spanish
river Manzanares, in the province of Guadalaxara, with
4000 inhabitants. In its manufactories of cloth seventy-
seven looms are employed. There is a stone bridge over
the river.
COLNA, a town of Bengal, and district of Jessore, plea¬
santly situated on the south-west bank of the Muddmutty
or Naugunga river, which is navigable at all seasons of the
year. It is situated eighty-three miles north-east from
Calcutta. Long. 89. 38. E. Lat. 23. 11. N. #
COLOGNA, a city of the delegation of Verona, in the
Austrian kingdom of Venetian Lombardy. It is on the
canal of Frasene, and is a place of much trade in silk and
its other products. It contains 3550 inhabitants. Long.
12. 13. 6. E. Lat. 45. 18. 11. N.
COLOGNE, one of the governments into which the
liter
*
COL
COL
89
Co|?ie
'old uia-
Prussian dominions on the Rhine are divided. It is bounded
on the north by Dusseldorf, on the east by Arensburg, on
the south by Coblentz, and on the west by Aix-la-Cha-
pelle. It extends over 1350 square miles, or 864,000 acres ;
and in 1827 it contained 367,580 inhabitants, of whom
296,400 were Catholics, 48,600 Protestants of the Lu¬
theran confession, and the rest Calvinists, Menonites, and
Jews. It comprehends fifteen cities, seven market-towns,
and 583 villages.
Cologne, a city, the capital of the government of
that name. It stands on the left bank of the Rhine,
along which it extends in the form of a semicircle. Its
appearance is magnificent, from the extent of the walls,
and eighty-three towers that rise above the other build¬
ings. The streets are narrow, the houses large and lofty, Cologne
and, from being on a low situation, the place is far from H
being cleanly. The cathedral is a most magnificent pile, Colombia,
though yet unfinished. It is venerated on account of its v—
sanctity, derived from the monkish stories of the kings,
and the reliques of the eleven thousand virgins; and it
contains the master-piece of Rubens, who was a native
of this city. It has given birth to other men of cele¬
brity, Cornelius Agrippa the astrologist, and Barthold
Schwartz, who in 1330 discovered gunpowder. It is a
place of great trade on the Rhine, and the seat of various
manufactures, especially the distilled water which bears
the name of the city. These give occupation to the in¬
habitants, who amounted in 1817 to 54,938.
COLOMBIA.
lour ti¬
es.
!Ate
Mou
-ains •
The republic of Colombia, in South America, was form¬
ed on the 17th of December 1819, by the congress of Ve¬
nezuela, assembled in St Thomas de Angostura, through
the influence of General Bolivar, and was afterwards con¬
firmed by the general constituent congress of the whole
country, held at the city of Rosario de Cucuta on the 22d of
July 1821. It received the name of Colombia, in honour
and remembrance of Columbus, the celebrated discoverer
of America. It comprises the whole territory which for¬
merly constituted the viceroyalty of New Granada and
Quito, and the captain-generalship of Venezuela. The
eastern boundary is formed by the Atlantic Ocean, and
extends from Cape Nassau, at the mouth of the river Es-
sequibo, in 7. 39. north latitude and 53. 47. west longitude,
to Cape Gracias a Dios, in the province of Honduras, in
15. 1. north latitude and 82. 46. west longitude, including
the islands of Margarita, St Andrews, and others. Its
boundaries to the north with Guatemala are not yet well
defined, but highly important to both countries, on account
of the proposed water communication between the Atlan¬
tic and Pacific Oceans, at the lake of Nicaragua. On the
Pacific, the western boundary commences at Golfo Dulce,
in 8.20. north latitude and 83. west longitude, and extends
along the Pacific, including the adjacent islands, as far as
the river Tumbes, in 3. 34. south latitude and 86. 30. west
longitude. This river, and a well-defined boundary form¬
ed by lofty chains of mountains and by rivers, divide Co¬
lombia on the south from Peru, Brazil, and the British
colonial possessions on the Essequibo. The point where
Colombia, Peru, and Brazil unite, is at the junction of the
rivers Yabari and Maranon, in 4. 20. south latitude and
71. 50. west longitude; while the territories of Colombia,
Brazil, and those of Britain, are conterminous at the Sier¬
ras de Tumicuraque, in 1. 30. north latitude and 58. west
longitude.
The extent of territory comprised within these limits
is estimated at 92,000 square leagues, of which 58,300 be¬
longed to New Granada and Quito, and 33,700 to Vene¬
zuela. The population of these, before the revolution,
was estimated, the former at 2,000,000, and the latter at
900,000.
Colombia is traversed from south to north by the Cor¬
dillera of the Andes, and contains many of the most ele¬
vated mountains that charactei’ize the extensive and im¬
portant range which, with scarcely any interruption, ex¬
tends from one end of America to the other. It general¬
ly runs parallel to the coast of the Pacific Ocean, which
on an average is about 150 miles distant from it. The
highest elevation in Colombia is at Chimborazo, near the
equator, the height of which is estimated at 20,100 feet.
This was long considered as the highest mountain in Ame-
VOL. VII.
rica, until it was ascertained that the mountains of So-
rata and Illimani, near La Paz, in Bolivia, are more ele¬
vated. (See Bolivia.) On approaching the isthmus of
Panama the Cordillera gradually decreases in elevation, and
there nearly ceases; but to the north it again becomes ele¬
vated, and traverses the whole northern continent of Ame¬
rica to the Polar Ocean. In the centre of New Granada
the Andes are separated into three parallel ridges, which
extend from 2. 30. to 5,15. of north latitude. The eastern
ridge divides the waters of the river Magdalena from those
of the Meta and other western tributaries of the Orino¬
co ; and none of its mountains reaches the limits of per¬
petual snow. The central ridge divides the rivers Mag¬
dalena and Cauca, and is the highest of these ranges;
many of its mountains, such as Quindiu, Baragan, and
Guanacas, having their summits continually covered with
snow. The western ridge divides the Cauca from the
coast of the Pacific, but in no part exceeds 4500 feet in
altitude, and is nearly lost in tbe province of Darien.
These three ridges unite to form one chain at Pasto, in 1.
15. north latitude, a very rugged and mountainous coun¬
try, but of less elevation. To the south the Andes di¬
vides into two parallel ranges, which cross the equator,
and are again re-united at Asuay. Along the two inter¬
vening ranges are found the lofty and snowy mountains of
Chimborazo, Cayamba, Cotopaxi, Pichincha, Antisana, and
others, the greater part volcanic, and often in a state of
activity. From the Andes, between 3. and 6. of north
latitude, a lateral branch of mountains proceeds to the
eastward, and gives origin to the Guaviare, Meta, and
other rivers. At the place where it crosses the Orinoco
it gives rise to the cataracts of Maypure and Atures.
Farther eastward this chain becomes more elevated, divid¬
ing the waters of the Orinoco from those of the Maranon,
and separating Brazil from Colombia; and, before its ter¬
mination, it forms the line of separation between Colom¬
bia and the British possessions of Essequibo, Berbice, and
Demerara, and constitutes the mountains of Parime, in
which is situated the volcanic mountain of Duida, 8465
feet above the level of the ocean.
North from Bogota the central ridge of the Andes loses,
near Honda, its great elevation; and decreasing in size,
it passes Antioquia, and terminates near Mompox. The
eastern range, less elevated, continues to the province of
Socorro, and separates the waters of the Magdalena from
those of the Orinoco. At the lofty paramo of Almorsa-
dero, where the Andes form one group, from which arise
tributaries to the rivers Apure, Zulia, and Magdalena, the
Cordillera divides into two branches; the eastern proceed¬
ing to the north-east, along the maritime provinces of Me¬
rida, Coro, Caraccas, and Cumana, and reaching in some
' M
90
COLOMBIA.
Colombia, parts of its course the limits of perpetual snow. The Ne-
'Y"'""*' vada of Merida is 15,000 feet, and the Silla of Caraccas
8420, but the average height of the range is only 4500
feet. The western branch proceeds northward by Ocana
to form the Sierra Peripa, which is situated west of the
lake of Maracaybo, and terminates near Santa Martha, in
the elevated and snowy mountain called Sierra Nevada.
The mountains and intermediate valleys of Colombia,
which constitute so marked a portion of its territory, con¬
tain the greater part of the population, as well as the prin¬
cipal cities, such as Caraccas, Bogota, Quito, Popayan, Cu-
6093, and others, and are the principal seats of agriculture
and the arts.
Rivers. The other parts of Colombia form the extensive llanos
or plains through which run the rivers Carjueta, Meta,
Guaviare, Casanare, Apure, and a variety of other tribu¬
taries of the Orinoco. It is of great extent, the distance
from the mouth of the Orinoco to the foot of the Andes
being 380 leagues. To the south of the equator it is ter¬
minated in the country south of the river Caqueta; and
on the east by the Cordillera of Parime, commencing at
Angostura. The extent of these plains is estimated at
about 17,000 square leagues, and their elevation above
the sea does not exceed forty or fifty toises. To the south
they are covered with immense forests, and contain very
few inhabitants; but north of the Meta the foiests aie
less abundant, the greater part of the country being in¬
undated during several months of the year by the over¬
flowing of the rivers, and covered by extensive herds of
cattle and horses, and a more numerous population. Ihe
climate of these plains is hotter and less healthy than
on the mountains; and the vegetation throughout is ex¬
tremely vigorous and luxuriant, the whole countiy teem¬
ing with animals, birds, fishes, reptiles, and insects, in
endless variety of form and description. The llanos are
traversed by a number of large rivers, the greater part
of which are tributaries of the Orinoco. Many of these
are navigable to a great extent, more especially the Apure
and the Meta. By the latter, water communication for
vessels of considerable size may be obtained from the At¬
lantic, at the mouth of the Orinoco, to within a few leagues
of Bogota, the capital of New Granada, a distance of about
1500 miles. By means of the Cassiquiari, one of the south¬
ern branches of the Orinoco, this river communicates
with the Rio Negro, a tributary of the river Marahon,
and establishes a water communication between the two
largest and most extensive rivers in the universe. So
great an extent of internal communication as that fur¬
nished by these numerous rivers will produce the greatest
advantages when these countries become more populous
and civilized. The large river Magdalena drains the coun¬
try between the eastern and central ridges of the Cordil¬
lera, in New Granada, and is navigable to within a short
distance of Bogota. The rivers on the coast of the Paci¬
fic are of less importance, being short and rapid in their
course. The most important is that of Guayaquil, which
is navigable to a great extent, and gives free admission
and exit to the commerce of Quito, and the other parts of
the republic of the Equator, all of which concentrates it¬
self at the port of Guayaquil. In the province of Choco
a water communication between the Atlantic and Pacific
Oceans may be formed at little expense and trouble. The
river Atrato, which traverses that province, enters the
Gulf of Darien ; it is navigable, and at its upper extremity
only a little way distant from another river, which enters
the Pacific. A small communication was at one time
formed betwixt them, which allowed boats laden with pxo-
duce to pass from one sea to the other; but this commu¬
nication was interrupted by the jealous colonial policy of
the Spaniards. Should the projected communication take
place between the Atlantic and Pacific, by the lake of Colo;;
Nicaragua and the river San Juan, it will be equally in-
teresting and valuable to Colombia and Guatemala , as the
former power claims the Atlantic coast of that part of the
isthmus, while the Pacific coast corresponding to it forms
an integral part of the territory of the Central republic of
Guatemala. The extensive lake of Maracaybo, and its
large tributary rivers, also greatly augment the internal na¬
vigation of Colombia; and it is already traversed by steam
vessels, as are likewise the Orinoco and the Magdalena.
Colombia, from its extensive and diversified surface, its Prod
climate embracing all the intermediate gradations of tem-tionu
perature, from the heats of the torrid zone to the lines of
perpetual snow, presents a country calculated by nature
to become one of the most opulent and prosperous on the
face of the globe ; but until lately the political circumstan¬
ces in which it has been placed have greatly retarded the
development of its numerous and abundant natural resour¬
ces. During the time it was under the dominion of Spain,
the cultivation of the vine and the olive, the breeding of
the silk-worm, and the working of iron mines, were pro¬
hibited in South America, under severe penalties, lest they
should interfere with the productions and fabrics of Spain.
The foreign commerce of Colombia was fettered by mo¬
nopoly, and its intercourse with the neighbouring countries
subject to numerous restrictions and prohibitions. All Eu¬
ropean supplies came from Cadiz, although not even a fourth
part of them was the produce of Spain. They were pro¬
cured principally from I ranee, England, Holland, and the
Hanse Towns, and paid heavy transit duties at C adiz, and
again on their landing in South America, which so greatly
enhanced the price to the consumer, that such commodi¬
ties were generally beyond the reach of the poorer classes.
rpfig demand indeed was very limited compared to the
amount of population to be supplied; and there was com¬
paratively little exit for the more bulky productions of the
country, which were of comparatively small value, and
often lost to the cultivator for want of consumers, which
would have been numerous had commerce been open to
all nations. In time of war in Europe, Spain was incapable
of protecting her commerce, and the intercourse of that
country with her American colonies was suspended or
greatly diminished ; the consequence of which was, that an
extensive contraband trade arose, wheiein the principal
commercial nations of Europe chiefly participated: but
by this means the bulky articles of produce could not be
exported, and hence these were generally paid for in spe¬
cie or bullion. The average imports into Colombia from
Spain were calculated at eleven millions of dollars annually,
and about half that amount by the contraband trade. The
agricultural branches of industry, and the mining of the
precious metals in Venezuela and New Granada, experien¬
ced much injury and diminution during the disastrous war
of independence, and many districts previously in a high
state of cultivation were reduced to comparative sterility.
The congress, therefore, on the termination of the war,
granted exemption from all contributions, for ten years to
all lands where cacao was cultivated, for seven years to land
producing coffee, and for four years to those producing in¬
digo, with the view of encouraging the cultivation of these
staple articles : and the commerce of the interior was en¬
couraged by the abolition of internal duties. Besides these
articles, Colombia produces cotton, sugar, tobacco, rice,
maize, wheat, barley, and a variety of other useful articles.
Its native productions are principally timber in great abun¬
dance and variety, adapted for ship-building and almost
every other purpose ; dye-woods, cinchona bark, gums, bal¬
sams, and a variety of medicinal and other useful substan¬
ces. Cattle exist in great abundance on the extensive plains
of Venezuela and Casanare, and horses and mules are also
COLOMBIA.
91
b’a abundant. The riches of the mountainous districts consist
principally of the valuable mines and washings of gold, sil¬
ver platina, and other metals. These have been less pro¬
ductive than formerly, especially during the revolutionary
war, but will resume their importance as the country con¬
tinues tranquil, and property becomes secure. On the ter¬
mination of the war of independence, nay even during its
continuance, the commerce of Colombia assumed a differ¬
ent aspect; and the inhabitants, although at first beset
with many embarrassments, were enabled at length to trade
directly with the countries whose productions and manu¬
factures were most necessary for them. l>ut the amount
of this traffic has as yet been very limited, from the impo¬
verishment of the country, and the falling off in the culti¬
vation of the most valuable articles of produce which has
been consequent on the war of independence,
nerce. A more complete account of the commerce of the dif¬
ferent states which constituted the republic of Colombia,
will be given when these states, now independent of each
other in respect to their interests, shall merit considera¬
tion; but some idea may be formed of the nature, value,
and extent of its exterior commerce with Great Britain
and the United States, from the following tables, the first
of which is applicable to a period of six years ending with
1827.
The official value of imports into Great Britain from
Colombia during six years was L.321,092. 13s. 6d. and
consisted of the following articles:
_ . Quantities entered
Quantities for Home
Imported. Consumption.
Coffee 2,607,151 lbs  52 lbs.
Copper unwrought 1045 cwts 
Cortex Peruvianus 15,472 lbs 8245 lbs.
Dyewoods, Fustic 3401 tons 1548 tons.
Logwood 568 tons  306 tons.
Nicaragua 2088 tons 1084 tons.
Number of raw hides 2791  1034
Weight of raw hides 2603 cwts  989 cwts.
Indjiro 243,839 lbs 162,201 lbs.
Mother-of-pearl shells 671,398 lbs 617,471 lbs.
Cotton wool 1,841,264 lbs.... 1,756,001 lbs.
During the same period the official and declared value
of the exports from Great Britain to Colombia were as
follows:
Official value of British and Irish produce and manufac¬
tures L.2,064,633 12 0
Do. of foreign and colonial merchan¬
dise .!  148,075 0 6
Linens entered by value, declared value, L.5846. 7s.
Machinery and mill-work, do. L.7953. 10s.
Silk manufactures, do. L.14,985. 11s.
Woollens entered by the piece, 24,298 pieces.
Do. by the yard, 228,917 yard*.
Do. at value, declared value, L.1540.
All other articles, declared value, L.71,006. 19s. lOd.
Foreign and Colonial Merchandise.
Cottons of India, 78,869 pieces.
Do. of Europe, entered by piece, 165 pieces.
Do. do. by square yard, 30,552^ yards.
Number of single shawls, 245.
Value of do. L.605. 13s. 2d.
Linen entered by piece, 260 pieces.
Do. by the ell, 6978 ells.
Do. by square yards, 38 yards.
Do. at value, L.95. 12s. 7d.
Paper stained for hangings, 16,116 square yards.
Quicksilver, 64,176 lbs.
Silk manufactures of India, entered by piece, 1988 pieces.
Do. by weight, 820,120.
Number of single shawls, 744.
Do. of Europe, entered by weight, 2534 lbs. 4 oz.
Do. at value, L.4328, 4s.
Spices, including pepper, L.45,089.
Brandy and geneva, 6308 gallons.
Rum, 5592 gallons.
Wines, 32,380 gallons.
Woollens, by the piece, 327 pieces.
Do. by the yard, 1628 yards.
Do. at value, L.175.
All other articles, L.10,142. 15s. 2d.
The commerce of the United States of North America
with Colombia during the year ending in September 1830
was as follows:
Value of imports from
Colombia 1,120,095 dollars = L.260,019 4 0
Colombia.
Total     L.2,212,708 12 6
Declared value of British and Irish produce and manufac¬
tures dui'ing six years L.1,438,036 17 8
The articles of export from Great Britain to Colombia
during the above period were as follows:
British and Irish Produce and Manufactures.
Apparel, millinery, and slops, declared value, L.24,606.
8s. 6d.
Arms and ammunition, do. L.55,818. 16s. lid.
Cotton entered by yards, 18,856,708 yards.
Do. hosiery and small wares, declared value, L.26,979. 8s.
Earthenware of all kinds, 1,511,638 pieces.
Glass of all kinds, declared value, L.23,559. 12s. 8d.
Hardware and cutlery, 5359 cwts. 2 qrs. 20 lbs.
Number of hats of all sorts, 51,943.
Iron and steel, wrought and unwrought, 870 tons. 16 cwts.
1 qr. 1 lb.
Leather and saddlery, declared value, L.15,177. 9s.
Linens entered by the yard, 4,641,354 yards.
= L.63,346 8
— 36,051 12
Value of exports to Colombia—
Domestic produce.. 316,732
Foreign produce ....180,258
496,990 dollars = L.99,398 0 0
The exports of Colombia are principally cacao, coffee,
indigo, cotton, hides, live cattle, horses, mules, timber,
dye-stuffs, cinchona bark, bullion and uncoined gold and
silver, platina, &c. Its imports are principally cotton and
woollen fabrics from Great Britain ; linen and silks from
France ; wines, brandies, iron, and cutlery; paper and
other articles from the various countries of Europe. The
tariff is formed generally on judicious principles, such as
are calculated to favour commerce ; but it differs consider¬
ably in its details in the three separate states into which Co¬
lombia is now permanently divided, according to the prin¬
cipal productions and circumstances of each. Every en¬
couragement has been given by the government and people
of Colombia to promote the immigration of industrious
Europeans, who enjoy there all the privileges and rights
of the natives of the country, and have some exemptions
which are denied to the latter. They enjoy liberty of con¬
science, although toleration has not yet been expressly
established by law ; but circumstances are rapidly prepar¬
ing the public mind for these and other equally important
innovations. The mountainous parts of Colombia enjoy a
mild, healthy, and genial climate, well suited for European
agriculture ; and emigrants from Great Britain will every¬
where be received with the most friendly feelings, in con¬
sideration of the important aid they received from the
people of that country during their war of independence.
92
COLOMBIA.
Colombia.
Popula¬
tion.
Indians, free coloured people, and negro slaves, who exist Colo^
in very different proportions in the different sections of the V\r
country. inhabit;
ants.
Venezuela, i New Granada.
Quito.
Durinsr the period of tranquillity which has followed the Indians, free coloured people, and negro slaves, who exist Colony
war of independence, no systematic estimates have been »rnr,ort,nna .n thp diffprent. sections of the
made of the population ; but it is expected that, when the
first census is made, there will be found a considerable in¬
crease. The estimates of the population of New Granada
are more to be depended upon than the others, as they
were taken by census during the Spanish government, and
again in 1820 and 1821. The number of uncivilized in¬
digenous Indians in Colombia was estimated at 200,000,
but they are not included in the table; and if to this we
add those who, from various motives, evaded being includ¬
ed in the census, the whole population will be about three
millions.
Whites 
Indians 
Free coloured people..
Negro slaves 
Total.
200,000
207,000
433,000
60,000
900,000
877,000
313,000
140,000
70,000
1,400,000
157,000
393,000
42,000
8,000
600,000
1,234,000
913,000
615,000
138,000
2,900,000
Population and Territorial Division of Colombia in 1824.
r
Departments.
Orinoco....
Venezuela
Apure 
Zulia..
Boyaca.
Provinces.
Population
ofProvinces.
Cundina-
marca...
Cauca.
Magdalena
Isthmus...
Equator...
Asuay 
Guayaquil.
{
(
{
{
•I
i
1
Population
of Depart¬
ments.
Cumana 
Guayana....
Barcelona...
Margarita...
Caraccas....
Carabobo...
Varinas 
Apure 
Maracaybo.
Coro 
Truxillo 
Merida 
Tunja 
Socorro 
Pamplona 
Casanare 
Bogota  
Antioquia  
Mariquita  
Neiva.... 
Popayan  
Buenaventura
Paste 
Choco 
Carthagena...
Santa Martha.
Rio Hacha...
Panama 
Veragua 
Pichincha 
Imbahura 
Chimborazo...
Cuenca...' 
Loxa 
Jaen&Maynas
Guayaquil 
Manabi 
70,000
30,000
45,000
15,000
  J
48,7001
30,000 {
33,400 f
50,000 )
200,000 ^
150,000 l
75,000 r
19,000 J
172,000
104,000 (
45,000 r
50,000 J
107,000 }
21,000 (
42,100 C
22,000 )
170,000)
62,000 V
7,300)
50,000 |
30,0001
165,218 )
65,235 [
127,246 )
89,345)
35,000 k
16,000 )
; g g
Total.
160,000
350,000
130,000
162,100
444,000
371,000
193,000
239,300
80,000
357,699
140,343
90,000
12
2,717,442
The preceding table, however, gives a comparative esti¬
mate with reference to that made before the revolution;
and the diminished number may be attributed to the pro¬
tracted and sanguinary war of independence, in which it
is calculated that no less than 400,000 perished in the
field of battle, on the scaffold, and otherwise ; of which
250,000 fell in Venezuela, and 150,000 in New Granada.
The inhabitants of Colombia are divided into whites,
Their relative proportions are indicated in the preced¬
ing table ; and these have undergone little change since
1810, excepting that in Venezuela and New Granada the
number of negro slaves was greatly diminished during the
war of independence, in which they took an active and
important part, at first in favour of the Spaniards, and af¬
terwards in the cause of independence, by which means
many obtained their freedom. The number of slaves has
also been greatly diminished by the judicious measures
adopted by the congress of Cucuta in 1821, to bring slavery
eventually to an end in Colombia. Since that period all
children of slave parents have been born free ; and by well-
judged regulations, a gradual system of emancipation has
been introduced. Children of slaves are not absolutely
free from birth, but are invested with a prospective free¬
dom, to be rendered complete at a period when they are
fully capable of acting for themselves. At first it was fix¬
ed at eighteen years of age; but this having been found
practically to be too early, has been changed. During
the intermediate period they are subject to the authority
of the proprietor of the mother, who has certain duties
to perform towards them in relation to education, and
has a right to their services under certain conditions, as
a remuneration for their maintenance in childhood and
the loss of the services of the mother during their infan¬
cy. A fund to emancipate the most deserving slaves is
formed from the property of persons dying without heirs,
and by a per centage on the succession to property, the
rate exacted being diminished in proportion to the pro¬
pinquity of the heirs. Any instance of cruelty commit¬
ted on slaves by their proprietors, if proved before the
competent tribunals, is punished in proportion to its ex¬
tent, by allowing the slave to find another master, or by
manumission without ransom; and if under very aggra¬
vated circumstances, the proprietor is rendered legally
incapable of being a slave owner, and is obliged to sell
the remainder of his slaves. These wise and beneficent
measures have been productive of the best effects; the
number of slaves is rapidly diminishing; and it is con¬
fidently anticipated, that in the course of ten or fifteen
years hence there will be no slaves in Colombia. The co¬
loured people and slaves are treated with more kindness
and consideration, and better protected by the laws, in Co¬
lombia and other parts of South America, than in the co¬
lonial possessions of other countries; and the results are
highly satisfactory, for many of the coloured people in Ve¬
nezuela have distinguished themselves by their acquire¬
ments in the mechanical arts, and by even higher attain¬
ments. Some of them have served in the legislature and
other official situations, with credit to themselves and be¬
nefit to their country.
The great mass of the population of Colombia was keptEduca
in the most profound ignorance during the three centuries
of Spanish government. Four fifths of the inhabitants, com¬
prehending the Indians, slaves, artizans, and labourers, did
not even learn to read or write, from the want of primary
schools, none of which were ever established by the Spa¬
nish government. The few which existed were owing to
COLOMBIA.
93
Ibia. individual beneficence, or to the municipalities. So igno-
rant were the greater number of the inhabitants, that
they only knew imperfectly a small catechism used in
their devotions, and the exterior forms of their religion,
which they were accustomed to from early age. No moral
instruction of any kind was given except by the clergy
from the pulpit, and even this to a very limited extent.
The children of the more opulent classes, as proprietors,
merchants, and persons engaged in the various adminis¬
trative departments, had greater advantages; but they
were too often only taught reading, writing, and arithme¬
tic. Some, however, pursued their studies in the colleges,
and prepared themselves for the only employments to
which the Creoles could then aspire, namely, to become
clergymen or lawyers. Universities and colleges existed in
Caraccas, Bogota, and Quito, and other public seminaries of
education in Merida, Popayan, Carthagena, Panama, Santa
Martha, and Cuenca, from some of which have issued the
most illustrious men of the country ; but the whole system
of education there pursued, was so very imperfect and de¬
fective, that the scholars remained comparatively ignorant
of the actual state of science and philosophy in Europe.
The object of the authorities and of the clergy evidently
was to keep them as ignorant as possible, that they might
prove more obedient and submissive to their power. With
only a few exceptions, every possible obstacle was present¬
ed to the acquisition of useful knowledge by the Creoles,
more especially on political matters, which were prohibit¬
ed by law, under severe penalties. The unjust and iniqui¬
tous tribunal of the inquisition likewise contributed its
power and influence in excluding knowledge from these
countries, by prohibiting the introduction of the most va¬
luable foreign publications; so that any progress made in
science and literature, and more especially on subjects
connected with politics, could only be accomplished in
secret, and under the greatest difficulties. Latterly, how¬
ever, the French language was cultivated with zeal in Co¬
lombia, and the inhabitants became familiar with the lite¬
rature of France.
Great changes have occurred since the commencement
of the revolution, and all these obstacles to the diffusion
of knowledge have been removed ; but the sanguinary war
of so many years called off the attention of the youth from
these occupations, and the lives of numbers of the most
intelligent and best educated citizens were sacrificed to
gratify the vindictive passions of the leaders of the roy¬
alists. One of the latter, Morillo, observed that none but
labourers, artizans, and miners, ought to be left in Ameri¬
ca; and that all the lawyers, judges, missionaries, and pub¬
lic functionaries, should be brought from Spain, by which
means alone the colonies could be preserved. Neverthe¬
less, of late years great progress has been made in all the
departments of science, and in other branches of knowledge;
and there is now free ingress to books .from all quarters,
their prohibition belonging entirely to the civil power. The
liberty of the press has been established, and the nume¬
rous periodicals and newspapers which are continually
published in all parts of the country, tend greatly to en¬
lighten the community, and familiarize them with their
rights and duties as freemen.
In 1821 the congress assembled in Cucuta passed three
laws relative to education. The first ordered the esta¬
blishment of primary schools in every parish in Colombia,
and Lancasterian schools in all the principal cities, whence
they might be gradually extended to the other parts of
the republic; the second decree suppressed all the con¬
vents in Colombia containing a less number of regularly-
qualified friars than nine, and appropriated their property
and revenues to the furtherance of education; and the
third decree was, that the capellanias de jure devoluto,
formed by private individuals for the use of their relatives Colombia,
or descendants, should, on all such claims legitimately
ceasing, not devolve on the bishops and clergy as foi*-
merly, but be devoted to augment the funds for the foun¬
dation and endowment of colleges to be established in
each of the provinces. These wise measures of the govern¬
ment and its agents have produced the happiest results,
and schools have been established in almost every parish,
where young people are taught reading, writing, the ge¬
neral principles of morals and religion, and the principal
rights of man in society. New colleges have been founded
in different provinces, and the old ones re-established on
improved principles, where numbers of young men are in¬
structed in the natural sciences, legislation, and political
economy. The encouragement given has attracted to
these seminaries of education many accomplished teach¬
ers and professors, and some distinguished foreigners ; and
the whole population of Colombia, with very few excep¬
tions, now see with the utmost pleasure the prospect of
their country possessing all those advantages of educa¬
tion which were denied to their ancestors. These be¬
neficial measures experienced some interruption in their
progress in consequence of the suspension of some of the
laws regarding education at the time when Bolivar at¬
tempted to overturn the established constitution of Colom¬
bia, and establish his own code in its stead. Since his de¬
cease, the respective legislatures of the three states which
formerly constituted the republic of Colombia have used
efficient measures to remedy these evils, and to render
them again subservient to the important cause of improve¬
ment.
Jury trial has been introduced in Colombia for offen- Laws,
ces committed against the press and in commercial mat¬
ters ; and the first efforts to establish so important an in¬
novation into their judicial proceedings have hitherto been
attended with the most favourable results. The juries
for offences against the press consist each of twenty-four
members, and are annually elected by the municipality
of the capital town of each province, the municipality
having been previously elected by the citizens. For com¬
mercial matters, the juries are formed by each party nam¬
ing five persons in his confidence ; and each party can ob¬
ject to three of those nominated by his opponent, leaving
four efficient members, with whom the sheriff is united.
Before these juries are formed, it is the duty of the ma¬
gistrates to call each of the parties, and endeavour to in¬
duce them to settle amicably their disputes. The deci¬
sions of the commercial juries may be appealed to the
supreme court of justice, for any amount above a hundred
dollars.
While under the dominion of Spain, no religion was per-xteligion.
mitted in Colombia excepting the Catholic, the clergy of
which ruled the inhabitants in all matters, even remotely
connected with religion, in the most despotic manner; and,
with the powerful assistance of the tribunal of the inquisi¬
tion, were successful, for nearly three centuries, in keeping
the whole community immersed in the most debasing ig¬
norance and superstition ; every avenue being carefully
closed against the entrance of knowledge. They accu¬
mulated great riches ; and by a variety of means possessed
themselves of a considerable portion of the earnings of the
people. The king of Spain possessed from the pope the
right of patronage to all the ecclesiastical benefices in
America, a power which was delegated to the viceroys
and governors. This formed a strong inducement to the
clergy to attach themselves to the government and policy
of Spain, and their influence was great in keeping the
people in subjection to its authority. In the early part of
the revolution they were extremely active in opposing its
progress; but afterwards many of them became patriots,
04 COLOR
Colombia, and rendered essential services to the cause of their
w-'y'w' country.
There are two archbishops and nine bishops in Colom¬
bia. In Venezuela the bishops of Merida and Guayana
are suffragans to the archbishopric of Caraccas. In New
Granada the bishops of Santa Martha, Carthagena, and
Popayan are suffragans of the archbishoprics of Santa Fe
de Bogota; the other bishops, however*, as those of Pana¬
ma, Quito, Cuenca, and Maynas, are suffragans of Lima.
During the revolution, the number of these dignitaries
diminished so much, from death and other causes, that at
length all became vacant, excepting those of Merida and
Popayan ; and these vacancies could not be filled up with¬
out the intervention of the pope, with whom direct inter¬
course was suspended during the revolutionary war. Since
that time, however, it has been a disputed point between
the government and his holiness to whom the right of pa¬
tronage should belong ; the former urging its claim to this
right in virtue of the cession made of it by the pope to
the king of Spain, who had always exercised it in South
America, and to whom they have now succeeded as right¬
ful possessors of this important power; while the^ latter
disputed this pretension, and claimed the whole right of
patronage to himself. Negotiations were carried on be¬
tween Home and Colombia on this matter during 1825 and
1826, but without any satisfactory results. In 1827, how¬
ever, a provisional arrangement was acceded to by both
parties, and carried into effect, in order to fill up the va¬
cant sees. The names of three clergymen, selected by the
government of Venezuela, for each see, were presented to
the pope, who chose one of their number to fill the vacan¬
cy ; and since that time the same practice has been con¬
tinued, but no specific agreement has yet been made. In
1824 the secular clergy of Colombia amounted in all to
1891 persons, including two bishops, 875 curates in pro¬
perty, 705 curates not proprietors, forty-nine ecclesiastical
cabildos, thirty-four chaplains, and 178 of the minor or¬
ders. At the same period there were in existence seventy-
three convents, containing 1178 monks, and thirty-one
nunneries, containing 2083 nuns and other inmates. I he
number of these had been considerably diminished in con¬
sequence of the decree of the congress in 1821, which
suppressed every monastery having less in number than
nine efficient friars. In the same year forty of these esta¬
blishments were closed, and their funds applied for the pur¬
poses of education. Since that time others have shared
the same fate, and their number is now considerably re¬
duced.
The influence of the secular and regular clergy in Co¬
lombia, formerly so great, was much diminished during the
revolution, in consequence of the increase of intelligence,
and the general diffusion of knowledge consequent to that
event. They still, however, possess considerable influence
among the people, especially in those parts of Colombia
which are most secluded from intercourse with other
countries, as in the provinces of Quito and some parts of
New Granada; but in Venezuela this influence has been
greatly diminished. In 1825 a clergyman of Bogota pub¬
lished a pamphlet against toleration, which was printed
and published there without opposition, and had an ex¬
tensive circulation. In 1826 the clergy of Venezuela
agreed at one of their ecclesiastical cabildos to approve of
it, and cause it to be reprinted for circulation in Vene¬
zuela. This decision was carried into effect; but so wary
were the members of the meeting, that only one of their
number, the Canonigo Santana, signed it. The procurator
of Caraccas considering this writing as a violation of the
constitution, accused it as seditious, and as calculated to
excite odium towards strangers, and had the canonigo ar¬
rested and put in prison. In eight days afterwards he was
I B I A.
tried by a jury of the press, who convicted him of sedition Coloif
and a violation of the laws ; and he was sentenced to pay w,
a fine, and suffer imprisonment for one or two months.
The clergy are now all amenable to the civil law, the pri¬
vilege which they formerly enjoyed, of being only tried by
the ecclesiastical courts, having been abolished in all cases
not purely spiritual.
In 1830, when the constituent congress of Venezuela was
engaged in forming the constitution of that state, after its
separation from the republic of Colombia, no mention was
made of the established religion of the country, as the
members concurred in opinion that they were not entitled
to legislate on the religious belief of the community. This
omission excited the apprehensions of the clergy, who
made strenuous but ineffectual endeavours to influence
the congress; and, when required to take the customary
oath to the constitution, the archbishop and bishops of
Venezuela refused to do so, assigning as their reason the
omission indicated. On this occasion, the government of
Venezuela, with Paez at its head, acted with much firm¬
ness and decision; for although these dignitaries of the
church were decided patriots, and much esteemed by all,
they were displaced from their respective sees, and were
banished from their country to the Antilles. During their
absence various reforms in the church took place, and
others were in progress; on hearing which, they took
alarm, and obtained permission to return to their respec¬
tive sees, upon promising to take the customary oath to
the constitution.
The tribunal of the inquisition has been abolished for
ever in Colombia, and its property confiscated to the state.
The clergy are allowed to exercise the ecclesiastical juris¬
diction on matters purely spiritual, but their authority ex¬
tends only to Colombians and foreign Catholics, and cannot
interfere with foreigners who are temporary or permanent
residents, and who do not intermeddle with the Catholic
religion.
Increased knowledge and republican institutions will in
time lessen still more the influence of the Catholic clergy
in these countries. Although the Roman Catholic apos¬
tolic religion is still the established religion of Colombia,
yet other creeds are not excluded either by the constitu¬
tion or the laws. Free discussion on religious matters is
permitted; a spirit of reform in ecclesiastical affairs is
gradually forming throughout the country; and the feel¬
ings which formerly existed against heretics have been
greatly diminished, and now exist only among some fana¬
tics and bigoted persons.
The first attempt at revolution in Venezuela was madeHistc
in 1797, by the influence of three state prisoners, confined
on account of their political principles, and who had been
sent as prisoners for life from Spain to La Guayra. By
their eloquence and persuasive manners they acquired
much influence with the officers and soldiers, by whom
they were viewed as victims of despotism, and sufferers in
the cause of liberty. The principles which they professed
extended rapidly, and they found many supporters among
the various classes of the community. The whole plot
w*as, however, at length discovered by the government,
and measures were taken to arrest all the conspirators.
The two principal movers, Gual and Espaha, made their
escape; and the authorities violated their engagements to
those who surrendered. Of seventy-two who had been
arrested, seven were condemned to death, others to the
galleys and temporary imprisonment, and the remainder
were sent to Spain. Their plan was well concerted, and,
although unsuccessful, laid the foundation in Caraccas of
those liberal principles which subsequently led to the libe¬
ration of the country.
The knowledge of a revolutionary spirit existing in
II
COLOMBIA.
95
,bia. Venezuela induced General Miranda to use his influence
to organise an expedition in Europe, in order to liberate
his native country from the dominion of Spain; and after
experiencing many disappointments in England and else¬
where, he at length sailed for Venezuela in 1806, with a
small force chiefly collected in the United States. He
encountered many difficulties; but at length, aided by a
body of men which he received from the British admiral on
that station, he landed at La Vela de Coro on the 2d of
August, defeated the Spaniards, and obtained possession of
two forts, cannon, stores, and ammunition. He then took
possession of the city of Coro, whence he issued a procla¬
mation to the inhabitants of these countries. Although
he had numerous friends throughout the country, yet the
smallness of his forces prevented his being joined by any
considerable number of the inhabitants. The Spaniards
prepared a considerable force to oppose him, upon which
he retired from Coro towards the sea coast, and made an
unsuccessful application for reinforcements from the Bri¬
tish authorities. He was at length obliged to evacuate
Venezuela, and retire to Trinidad. The country remained
tranquil during 1807; but in 1808 the occurrences con¬
nected with Napoleon’s invasion of Spain tended greatly
to loosen the ties connecting the inhabitants of the new
and the old world, and, with the previous essays made to¬
wards independence, at length gave rise to a revolution in
some of its features unexampled in history.
The invasion of Spain by Bonaparte in 1808, and the sub¬
sequent events in that country which deprived it of its le¬
gitimate authorities, gave rise to the formation of juntos in
Seville and Asturias, and a regency, all of whom at different
times assumed the supreme authority, and communicated
with the American colonies, calling upon these to acknow¬
ledge their authority, and to co-operate with them against
Napoleon. The colonies did not immediately avail them¬
selves of so very favourable an opportunity of asserting
their freedom, but rather sympathized with the distress¬
ing situation of the royal family, and the efforts of the Spa¬
niards to liberate themselves from French dominion. Al¬
though almost the whole of the American governors were
favourable to the views of Napoleon, yet they were reso¬
lutely opposed by the Creoles of South America, who,
early in 1810, transmitted ninety millions of dollars to the
central junto of Spain, to enable it to carry on the war with
France. On the 10th of August 1809, the principal inha¬
bitants of Quito, to provide for their own security, esta¬
blished a separate government, to which at first the Spa¬
nish authorities acceded. By favouring the formation of
a junto, and the free declaration of opinions, they became
effectually acquainted with the sentiments and views of
the friends of liberty. Meanwhile troops were prepared and
marched from Lima and Santa Fe to Quito, and on their
arrival overpowered the friends of the junto, and dissolved
the new administration. Assurances of forgiveness were
given by Cruz de Castillo, the Spanish chief, to the pa¬
triots ; but these were soon violated by their arrest and
imprisonment. On the 2d of August of the following
year, during a false alarm caused on purpose by the sol¬
diers, the greater part of the patriots, with their most dis¬
tinguished leaders, were massacred in their prisons, and the
troops from Peru were permitted to plunder the inhabi¬
tants with impunity. These outrages exasperated the in¬
habitants so much that they armed themselves with knives
and bludgeons, and attacked the troops from Lima, who
fired upon the people. The consequences would have been
fatal to the Spaniards, had not the president and the au-
diencia published an act of oblivion, and ordered the troops
to leave the city. A junto was formed at Quito by the
influence of Montufar, commissioner of the regency to
Quito, of which Hiuz de Castillo was declared president.
The country, however, was not tranquil under the govern-Colombia,
ment of this junto. Those opposed to the revolution unit-
ed with the troops from Lima, who had not left the coun¬
try, with others from Panama and Guayaquil under Mo¬
lina, who was named president of Quito by the regency.
The new president entered the territory of Quito at the
head of his troops, but was opposed by the junto, whose
forces were at length defeated ; and subsequently Montes,
the successor of Molina, after various actions with the
Quitenos, at length conquered the province, and entered
the city of Quito on the 6th of November, laying waste
every thing before him, killing or taking prisoners every
one opposed to him, and putting to death every fifth per¬
son left to defend the city, while the bishop and other re¬
fugees were pursued by his troops.
After the dispersion of the central junto in Spain, the
people of Caraccas, having no hopes of accommodation
with the captain-general Emparan, named deputies, who,
together with the municipality of Caraccas, assumed the
reins of government on 19th April 1810, in the name of
Ferdinand, with the title of supreme junto. The captain-
general and the royal audiencia were seized and sent to
the United States; the alcabala, tributes of the Indians,
and slavery, wrere abolished ; and the freedom of com¬
merce and agriculture was established. Similar juntos
were formed in other parts of Venezuela, with the excep¬
tion only of Coro and Maracaybo ; and they acted in con¬
cert with that of Caraccas, which informed the regency of
Spain what had happened, and offered every aid in their
power against the French. These communications, how¬
ever, were received in a very different spirit by the re¬
gency, who condemned all the proceedings which had
taken place, and used every means to prevent the further
progress of these measures; declared the coast of Vene¬
zuela to be in a state of blockade, and sent Corta-Varria
to reduce them to subjection. At first he had recourse
to conciliatory measures to induce them to dissolve the
junto ; but these proving ineffectual, he employed spies and
emissaries to produce a counter revolution. Some hostili¬
ties were carried on by the adherents of the junto against
the Spaniards at Coro, but without any satisfactory re¬
sults. General Miranda reached Venezuela early in 1811,
although contrary to the desire of the supreme junto, who
feared lest he might implicate them more deeply with
Spain than they had yet become. About this time the
British government made an ineffectual attempt to settle
the disputes between the regency of Spain and the new'
American authorities.
In New Granada, on hearing of the dispersion of the
central junto of Spain, the inhabitants of Santa Fede Bogota
renounced their allegiance to their Spanish governors, and
formed a junto on the 20th of July 1810, acknowledging
the Spanish regency, and electing the governor president;
but suspicions arising of his intentions, he was sent with
his lady and the principal members of the audiencia to
Carthagena, and thence to Spain. The authority of the
regency was then thrown off, and the other provinces were
invited to send deputies to the capital to deliberate on the
measures necessary during the captivity of the king. The
provinces of Tunja, Pamplona, Casanare, Carthagena, So¬
corro, Antioquia, Citara, Neyva, and Mariquita, declared
in favour of the revolution. Tacon, governor of Popayan,
opposed the new government, and raised a force to attack
it; but he was met and defeated by Baraya, near Popay¬
an, early in 1811. He fled to Pasto, and being unable
to raise a sufficient force to encounter the patriots, he gave
liberty to all the slaves, who were numerous, and dispos¬
ed to rise; but finding himself still too weak to take the
field, he retired to San Buenaventura, on the coast, where
he was afterwards completely defeated by Baraya. A
9(] COLO
Colombia, manifesto issued by the junto of Carthagena on the 19th
of September 1811, from its unguarded and incautious lan¬
guage, sowed dissension among the provinces, and pre¬
vented them from acting in union and concert with each
other, and eventually produced the most injurious conse¬
quences to the cause of independence. A treaty of alli¬
ance, however, was formed with the new authorities of Ca-
raccas; and the dissensions in New Granada having at
length somewhat subsided, the congress again assembled
at Bogota, but was only partially attended. The deputies
of Pamplona, Neyva, Antioquia, and Carthagena, on 27th
November 1811, formed a compact, which was dissented
from on the part of Santa Fe de Bogota, where there took
place an assembly of the people, who, on the 17th of Apiil
1812, ratified a provincial constitution which had been
presented to them. , t\/t i
The congress of Venezuela met on tne 2d of March
1811, when a constitution, previously prepared by a com¬
mittee appointed by the supreme junto for that purpose,
was presented for consideration. Miranda having differed
in opinion from the rest of the committee, did not attend
during their deliberations, but presented to them a plan of
his own, prepared for South America some years before,
and very analogous to that of the cojonial government.
This circumstance, associated with his haughty temper
and restless character, greatly diminished his influence in
public affairs, and raised up many enemies to him, al¬
though he was held in high estimation by the fi lends of
independence, for his talents and services. On the 5th of
July a motion was carried in congress, declaring Venezu¬
ela* independent of Spain. The act of independence of
Venezuela was published on the 11th, and on the 30th a
manifesto was presented to the world, stating the reasons
of their declaration of independence of Spain, and of all
other nations.
While these occurrences took place at Caraccas, some
Spaniards residing at Valencia, led by a friar, roused the
coloured population there, and obtained possession of the
city, where preparations were made, and troops raised, to
resist the new government. The citizens of Caraccas were
then called to arms, and many of the conspirators were ar¬
rested. An army was sent to Valencia under Miranda, who,
after an injudicious and unsuccessful attack, at length
stormed and took the city. Miranda now wished to attack
the Spaniards at Coro with his army of 4000 men, to which
the government agreed. But many patriots, considering it
dangerous to the liberties of their country to enhance too
much the power of Miranda, used all their efforts, and,
aided by the congress, were successful in frustrating his
intentions. The discussion of the new constitution now
occupied the public attention, and strenuous efforts were
made to impress the minds of the community with a fa¬
vourable opinion of the constitution of the United States.
On the 23d of December, after receiving the approval of
the representatives, the promised constitution was pre¬
sented to the people for their approval. It was liberal in
its principles, perhaps more so than the state of society
then warranted. Valencia was fixed on as the place for
the assembling of congress early in 1812. About this
time every thing prospered in Venezuela. The govern¬
ment was popular, and the people contented ; the army
efficient, and in a respectable state ; commerce flourished,
and the prospects of a happy and fortunate futurity pre¬
sented themselves ; when the scene was at once changed
by a terrific earthquake on the 26th of March 1812, which
laid Caraccas, the capital, La Guayra, San Felipe, and
other places in ruins, burying therein about 20,000 of
their inhabitants, and which, from the existing political
circumstances of the country, produced the most injurious
and fatal effects to the cause of liberty. This dreadful ca-
MB X A.
tastrophe occurred on Holy Thursday, the anniveisaiy of
their renouncing the allegiance of Spain , a circumstance J (-\,,
made use of by the priests to influence the people with the
belief that it was a judgment from Heaven for their re¬
cent political changes, to which the former were all reso¬
lutely opposed, as the revolution had depiived them of
many of their wonted privileges ; and fearing the result of
future innovations, they operated powerfully on the minds
of the community. While the clergy were thus actively
employed in Caraccas and elsewhere, Monteverde, the
Spanish chief, was not idle, but reduced Barquisimeto,
Araure, and San Carlos; and the government had not
sufficient troops to oppose him, as the greater pait of the
army had been sent to Guayana, where they were dimi¬
nished in number by desertion. Miranda, therefore, re¬
solved to evacuate Valencia, and took possession of the
strong position of La Cabrera, near the lake of Valencia,
which he soon afterwards relinquished, on perceiving the
royalists on the top of the mountain Periquito ; he then
retired to La Victoria, where he was attacked by the roy¬
alists, whom he repulsed with considerable loss.
To these disasters were added the loss of the castle of
Puerto Cabello, which, from want of sufficient care on the
part ofits commander Colonel Bolivar, fell into the hands of
the royalists, in consequence of a conspiracy on the part of
the prisoners there confined, and of the garrison, and proved
a valuable acquisition, as it opened up a ready communica¬
tion with Puerto Rico for receiving supplies. With all these
disadvantages, the patriot army was sufficiently numerous
to give hopes of success had Miranda acted with energy
and decision ; but, whether from fear, or from a conviction
that his countrymen required to be better trained under
the Spanish government for the acquisition of their liber¬
ties, he turned a deaf ear to the clamour of bis army to
act with more decision, or relinquish the command to ano¬
ther ready to proceed with more vigour. Instead of lis¬
tening to the general desire, some of those most active in
the cause of their country were treated by him with the
utmost rigour and injustice. And it was to his indecision
and inactivity, and neither to the consequences of the
earthquake nor the efforts of the clergy, that Venezuela was
so soon subjected to the vengeance of the Spaniards. .In
these circumstances, Miranda formed a capitulation with
Monteverde, to the effect that the constitution presented
by the Cortes to Spain should be that of Caraccas; that
private property should be respected ; that there should be
no persecution on account of previous opinions; and that
permission should be given to all to emigrate who wished
to do so. Caraccas now fell into the hands of the royalists.
Miranda and others proceeded to La Guayra to embark for
Carthagena, but he was seized and delivered to the Spa¬
niards by Colonel Las Casas, commander of La Guayra,
with the concurrence of Colonel Bolivar, Dr Pena, and
others. The former, perhaps, was influenced by a desire
to conciliate the favour of the Spaniards, by whom he was
afterwards employed; Pena probably acted in revenge of
the imprisonment of his father by Miranda; but Bolivar
could only be influenced by feelings of indignation that
he had so rashly sacrificed his countrymen to the ven¬
geance of the Spaniards, and now attempted to escape,
leaving them to their fate. Monteverde, however, in vio¬
lation of the capitulation, and of the acknowledged rights
of civilized nations, immured Miranda and a thousand
other patriots in the dungeons of La Guayra and Puerto
Cabello. Miranda was chained to the floor of his prison,
from which he wns at length released by the intervention
of some British officers, and eventually sent to Cadiz,
where this martyr of South American independence died
in confinement.
In consequence of the capitulation, Cumana and Mara-
!ol(
COLOMBIA.
97
cavbo surrendered to tlie Spaniards, and the departments
of Merida, Truxillo, and Guayana, were reduced under
their power; the whole of Venezuela being in their pos¬
session in August 1812. Monteverde, instead of endea¬
vouring to conciliate the good will of the inhabitants of
Venezuela, distinguished himself by the most cruel and
vindictive measures, and the prisons were crowded with
patriots. _
The royalists at Santa Martha now carried on hostilities
against Carthagena, at first with considerable advantage,
ifut the government of Carthagena obtaining supplies from
different quarters, carried on a successful warfare against
the Spaniards, and not only retook the districts which had
previously been taken, but possessed themselves of much
of the country previously held by the royalists. They
took Santa Martha on the 6th of January 1813, and, with
the means they possessed, would easily have taken from
the royalists the important province of Rio de la Hacha,
had not the patriot commander acted with so little policy
that the inhabitants rose in revolt, and obliged him to re¬
tire with his forces to Carthagena, after which Carthagena
confined itself to the defence of its own frontier, and the
navigation of the Magdalena, which had previously been
interrupted by the royalists. In the south of New Gra¬
nada Samano was placed in command of the royalists,
took the city of Popayan, and prepared to oppose the pa¬
triots from the‘capital, where Narino and the congress
prepared an army of 8000 to resist them. It marched to
meet them under the command of Narino, and defeated
the royalists in battle, at first at El Alto del Palace, and
again at Calibio near Popayan. The royalists retreating to¬
wards Pasto, were reinforced and commanded by Ayme-
ric, who superseded Samano. Nariho organized a popular
government at Popayan, and marched with his army to
Pasto ; but he met with many serious obstacles to his pro¬
gress, from the rugged and mountainous nature of the
country, and the hostility of the inhabitants, who have been
invariably attached to the cause of the royalists. At
length he reached the vicinity of Pasto with one division
of his army; but means having been employed to convey
to the remainder of his forces a report of his defeat, they
were much alarmed. The royalists took advantage of this
occurrence to attack the detached division under Narino,
who was defeated and taken prisoner in June 1814. The
remainder of the patriots retreated to Popayan under Ca¬
bal, and were pursued by the royalists under Aymeric.
Narino was sent prisoner to Quito and Lima, and hence
to Cadiz in Spain, where he was liberated in 1820, during
the revolution which then took place in that city.
In Venezuela, during 1813 and 1814, the inhabitants
were so exasperated by the cruelties and oppression of the
Spaniards, that they determined to renew the struggle for
independence, and hostilities commenced in the province
of Cumana under Marino, who took possession of Maturin,
and repelled two attacks of the royalists, the latter under
Monteverde in April.
In these circumstances, Bolivar with 600 men having
crossed the Andes from New Granada, surprised and de¬
feated the royalists at Cucuta, and took possession of the
department of Merida, after defeating them again at La
Grita. Briceno was sent to Guadalito to raise cavalry to
invade Varinas; but wras defeated and taken prisoner, with
his officers, all of whom, with some of the principal inhabi¬
tants of Varinas, were put to death by the governor. Boli¬
var'\vas so much exasperated at the cruelty of these pro¬
ceedings, that he then resolved to retaliate on the Spaniards
who might become his prisoners in the same way; and from
that time the war became one of extermination on both
sides, and was named guerra a muerte.
With his army greatly augmented, Bolivar marched to-
VOL. VII.
wards Caraccas, and defeated the royalists in several en- Colombia,
gagements ; upon which their general, with the remainder
of his troops, retired to Puerto Cabello. Soon afterwards
Caraccas capitulated to Bolivar, who issued an amnesty,
and permission to all who were so disposed to leave Ve¬
nezuela. It was not ratified, however, by Monteverde,
who was at Puerto Cabello, and who also refused an ex¬
change of prisoners proposed to him by Bolivar. But the
governor of Caraccas embarked at La Guayra with all
the public and private treasure he could collect, leaving
behind him about 1500 Spaniards at the mercy of the
patriots. The whole of Venezuela was soon in the posses¬
sion of the patriots, Marino liberating the eastern, while
Bolivar delivered the western provinces.
Monteverde having been reinforced from Europe, again
acted on the offensive; but he was defeated with the loss
of nearly all his troops, and being severely wounded, was
obliged to retire with the remains of his army to Puerto
Cabello; upon which other endeavours were made on the
part of the patriots to bring about a change of prisoners;
but Salomon and Isueta, who succeeded Monteverde, im¬
prisoned the envoy, and afterwards exposed the patriot
prisoners in their possession to the shot of the besiegers.
This brutal conduct of the royalists produced retaliation
on the part of the patriots, and thus a war of extermina¬
tion was generally established. Puerto Cabello still held
■•out, although deficient in provisions; and the royalists un¬
der Cevallos issued from Coro, and fought four actions
with the patriots, in three of which the latter were victo¬
rious.
Venezuela remained under military government, as Bo¬
livar did not consider it in a state fit for the re-establish¬
ment of the republican congress; but as the inhabitants
became discontented in consequence of some irregulari¬
ties which took place, an assembly of the municipality,
clergy, proprietors, and others, was held on the 2d of Ja¬
nuary 1814, when Bolivar gave them an account of his
operations and intentions in the invasion of Venezuela,
and resigned the supreme authority. He was, however,
reinstated by the assembly with dictatorial power, until a
re-union should be accomplished between the provinces
of Venezuela and New Granada.
In the state of weakness and defeat to which the Spa¬
niards had been reduced in Venezuela, they at length had
recourse to means the most unjustifiable to recover the
ground they had lost, raising the slaves of Venezuela in
arms against their masters. At that time the whole slave
population amounted to about 70,000. In this enterprise
the Spaniards employed active and efficient agents, who
were sent from Guayana, Puerto Cabello, Coro, and Mara-
caybo, and were so successful that they soon collected a
considerable number of them, and commenced hostilities
in various parts of the country, accompanied with the
greatest atrocities. Boves advanced from the Orinoco,
and in his march to Caraccas, 400 miles distant, commit¬
ted the most horrible and atrocious ravages, putting to
death every one who did not join him. In this way he
collected an army of 8000 men, of whom only about fifty
were Europeans, the remainder being coloured men and
slaves. They rushed like a torrent on the mountainous
districts, and took possession of Valencia and Ocumare.
Puy and Yanez having conquered Varinas, joined their
forces with that of Boves in February 1814.
At this time the prisoners of war at Caraccas and La
Guayra entered into a conspiracy against the govern¬
ment, and owing to the continual atrocities committed
by the royalists, and the precarious condition of the pa¬
triots, Bolivar, in a moment of frenzy, ordered them all,
to the amount of 800, to be put to death ; a proceeding
which was immediately imitated by the governor of Pu-
98
COLOMBIA.
Colombia, erto Cabello, who killed all the patriot prisoners in his
power. The war now raged in Venezuela with the ut¬
most violence, neither age nor sex being spared on the part
of the royalists. The success was various ; hut Bolivar and
Marino having at length defeated their opponents at San
Mateo and Boca Chica, they obliged Boves to retire to
the llanos, and Cevallos to San Carlos. The latter, how¬
ever, being reinforced by Calzada and Cagigal, the new
captain-general, with reinforcements, advanced to meet
the patriots, with whom an obstinate battle was fought on
the 28th of May 1814, in which the royalists were entirely
routed, with the loss of 500 men, and their stores of arms
and ammunition. At this period Bolivar dispatched di¬
visions of his army under Urdaneta and Marino to reduce
Coro and San Fernando de Apure, the strongholds of the
royalists. In the mean time Boves marched with a large
force of cavalry against Bolivar, who, after an obstinate
resistance at La Puerta on 15th June, with his diminished
forces, was driven from the field. Marinos division hav¬
ing been attacked by Cagigal and Calzada, and his com¬
munication with Bolivar cut off, he was obliged to retire
to Cumana. Urdaneta, unable from the distance to assist
the others, retired with his forces to Cucuta, on the fron¬
tiers of New Granada. All was now confusion in Carac-
cas and other parts of Venezuela, and many of the peo¬
ple, discontented with the military government of Bolivar,
and the conduct of some of his officers, took part with the
royalists. The siege of Puerto Cabello was abandoned,
and the troops, with many of the inhabitants of Carac-
cas, who greatly dreaded the cruelty of Boves and his
followers, embarked at La Guayra for Cumana, and the
remainder in great numbers proceeded to the same place
by land, along with Bolivar and the few soldiers remain¬
ing with him. Caraccas and La Guayra surrendered to
Boves in July. Valencia was at length taken, and the
officers and the greater part of the soldiers were put to
death, notwithstanding the terms of the capitulation agreed
upon. At this period the utmost license was given by
the Spaniards to their followers, who were principally
slaves and people of colour, so that wherever they went,
neither age nor sex was protected from their violence and
brutality, and the country was enveloped in mourning and
bloodshed. The patriots were followed by Boves, and de¬
feated at Araguita, near Barcelona, on which Bolivar em¬
barked with some of his chosen officers for Carthagena. The
patriots assembled under the command of Rivas and Ber¬
mudez at Maturin, where they repulsed with great slaugh¬
ter the attacks of the royalists under Morales and Boves,
and also on various subsequent occasions. But they were
at length overpowered by the Spaniards at Urica on the
5th of December 1814, when the notorious Boves was kill¬
ed. Soon afterwards Maturin was also taken by them, when
they put all the inhabitants to death, with scarcely any
exception, as they had likewise done on several previous
occasions. Rivas was taken prisoner and shot; and Ber¬
mudez with his few followers embarked for the island of
Margarita, where he maintained the republican govern¬
ment, until the arrival from Spain of Morillo with 1.0,000
soldiers, and a decree from Ferdinand ordering all the
South Americans to lay down their arms. All hopes of
reconciliation were now at an end; and there being no
alternative left them but slavery or independence, many
persons previously undetermined now declared for the
cause of their country.
On hearing of the occurrences in Venezuela, the retreat
of the army of Popayan, and the restoration of Ferdinand
to the throne of Spain, the congress of New Granada be¬
came aware of the dangers which menaced them, and is¬
sued a spirited proclamation on the 1st September, inti¬
mating these things to the people, and calling upon them
to exert their utmost efforts to repel the Spaniards and Colomiy
preserve their liberties. The disputes between the presi- u
dent Alvarez and the congress about the confederation,
however, still continued, and greatly impeded the mea¬
sures pursued by the latter in defence of their country.
About the end of 1814, Bolivar arrived in Tunja, where
the congress was then assembled, and, in accordance with
an arrangement entered into with this body, placed himself
at the head of the Venezuelian division, which had retired
by Cucuta under Urdaneta, after the defeat of Bolivar;
and having been reinforced, he marched in December to
Santa Fe de Bogota, which he took by storm, and brought
Alvarez to terms ; so that the congress removed to the ca¬
pital, and, being possessed of full powers, acted with much
vigour and decision, intrusting the executive power to
three persons of well-known principles and talents. The
congress at last obtained the confidence and support of
the people by the wisdom and energy which they display¬
ed. As a measure of greater security, all Spaniards were
expelled from the country, but the power of selling their
properties was reserved to them. The army of Popayan
was reinforced, and measures taken to protect Pamplona
from the attacks of the royalists of Maracaybo, and to
obtain possession of the strong position of Santa Martha.
This latter expedition was undertaken under the guidance
of Bolivar, who was placed in command of the army, and
appointed captain-general of New Granada and Venezuela;
but his efforts were rendered ineffectual through the op¬
position of Carthagena, which he was at length obliged to
besiege in form. While the patriots were occupied in
these intestine disputes, Morillo availed himself of the oc¬
casion to obtain a footing in the country; so that Bolivar
was at length obliged to give up the remains of his army
to garrison Carthagena, which he had previously taken,
and then to leave the country. Morillo then besieged
Carthagena, and the Spanish army invaded the provinces
of New Granada in three divisions, by different routes, and
with such an overwhelming force that the efforts of the
patriots, however strenuous, were insufficient to resist
them. Carthagena was taken ; the patriots were defeated
at Cachiri and Los Remedies; and Morillo entered Bo¬
gota in triumph in June 1816. By his own acknowledg¬
ment, however, it was known that he had met with the
most determined resistance, not only on the part of the
people, but of the clergy. On obtaining possession of
New Granada, Morillo committed the greatest cruelties
and outrages on the inhabitants, and bathed the country in
the blood of the best of her sons. Upwards of six hun¬
dred of the principal persons of the capital and other parts
of New Granada, including almost all the most able, learn¬
ed, and patriotic individuals, were put to death in cold
blood, and without any form of trial. So complete was the
extermination on this occasion, that he boasted in one of
his letters, afterwards published, that he had not left alive
in New Granada a single person of sufficient talent and in¬
fluence to carry on the revolution.
The conduct of the Spaniards in Venezuela was so over¬
bearing and oppressive, that many who were at first fa¬
vourable to their cause were induced to take part against
them, and to join the disbanded soldiers and other parti-
zans of independence in forming guerilla parties, and carry¬
ing on a desultory warfare, which was prosecuted with con¬
siderable success against the Spaniards, principally under
the direction of Monagas, Piar, Zaraza, Roxas, and others,
in the interior plains of Guayana, Cumana, Barcelona, Ca¬
rinas, and Caraccas. These harassed the royalist detach¬
ments sent against them, and frequently defeated them.
At this time Arismendi obtained possession of part of the
island of Margarita, where he was joined by an expedition
fitted out at Aux Cayes by Bolivar and Brion, which, sailing
COLOMBIA.
CflMjia. in March 1816, captured some Spanish ships of war, and, within the walls of the town. Next day hostilities were
along with Arismendi’s force, obtained entire possession renewed with great slaughter on both sides, but to the ad-
of the island, excepting the fortress of Pampatar. Boli- vantage of the patriots, who, in the night of the 14th, made
var proceeded to Carupano, near Cumana, where he land- an assault on the town, at the time when Morillo was in
ed, and arming the guerillas who joined him, sailed for the act of evacuating it with his army, a part of which was
Ocumare, where he landed on the 6th of July, and issued intercepted and destroyed. While at Calabozo an inef-
a proclamation offering freedom to all slaves joining his fectual attempt was again made by Bolivar to introduce a
standard. Advancing from Ocumare he took Maracay more humane system of warfare than that hitherto pursued,
and La Cabrera; but the royalists under Morales having and he sent twelve royalist officers and twenty soldiers to
met him, when separated a little from the advance of his Morillo with a letter proposing an exchange of prisoners;
army, attacked the rear-guard, and having defeated it with but the only reply received was finding, on his advance next
considerable loss, obliged Bolivar to re-embark. The ad- day, twelve patriot officers and twenty soldiers, placed
vance under Macgregor, on finding thecommunication with across the road, having been previously butchered by order
Bolivar cut off, took the road to Barcelona; and although of Morillo. In these circumstances Bolivar was obliged, by
actively pursued by the royalists, this person was enabled, the general wish of his army, to pursue a similar practice
by his knowledge of the country, and his confidence in with the Spaniards who became prisoners. The royalists
his troops, not only to repulse them on several occasions, having been pursued, were again defeated by Bolivar at
but to obtain possession of Barcelona, whence he com- Sombrero, and at length retreated to Barbacoas and Cu-
municated with the patriot generals in Cumana and Guay- matagua ; it being evidently the policy of Morillo to draw
ana. The Spaniards evacuated Pampatar on the 2d of the patriots into the mountainous country, where his well-
November; on which Arismendi, with his troops, joined disciplined infantry would have a decided superiority over
the patriots at Barcelona. Bolivar, on his defeat at Ocu- that of the patriots, and where their cavalry would be less
mare, returned to Aux Cayes, where, having obtained re- efficient and less numerous, Paez and his llaheros having
inforcements, he sailed for Margarita, and landed there returned to resume the siege of San Fernando de Apure,
in December 1816, on which he published a proclamation which was soon afterwards precipitately evacuated by the
calling together a general congress; and proceeding to royalists. In the mean time, finding that the patriots had
Barcelona, he there organized a provisional government, established and extended themselves in the upper coun-
While at this place he was attacked in Februarj'and March; try, Morillo augmented his army from the garrisons of
but the royalists were repulsed with great loss. It was, Caraccas, La Guayra, and Puerto Cabello, by means of
however, at length taken by them on the 7th of April. The which the patriot cavalry were surprised and defeated at
royalists were defeated in Guayana on the 11th of April, La Cabrera on the 14th March, and Bolivar with his army
by Piar, who obliged them to shut themselves up in An- was obliged to retreat towards Villa de Cura and La Puerta,
gostura and Guayana la Vieja. Paez also fought a battle closely pursued by the royalists. At La Puerta an obsti-
near San Fernando de Apure, against a force of two thou- nate and sanguinary action took place, in which the pa-
sand men under Morillo, on their way from Bogota to re- triots were routed and dispersed with great slaughter, only
inforce the royalists in Venezuela, and obtained consider- Bolivar and a few of his army escaping. On this occa-
able advantages over them, which enabled him to take sion Morillo was severely wounded, and conveyed to Va-
possession of Calabozo, and of the plains of the provinces lencia in a hammock. Bolivar, with his army so much di-
of Guayana, Varinas, Cumana, Barcelona, and Caraccas. minished, was again attacked by the royalists under Cal-
Angostura was besieged by Bolivar and Brion, and was zada, who at Rincon de los Toros endeavoured to cut off
taken on the l-7th of July. About the same time Marino his communication with the plains. The action was obsti-
defeated the Spaniards near Curiaco. nately contested ; but Bolivar was defeated and compelled
Morillo, fully aware of the great importance of the to retire to Calabozo, where he was rejoined-by the divi-
island of Margarita, on account of its favourable position sions under Paez and Cedeno. On the 26th of March
for exterior commerce, and communicating with the coast Paez defeated the royalists under La Torre, and obliged
of Venezuela, invaded it with a large body of troops, and them to retire to Valencia.
took Pampatar. The inhabitants, however, united and In May, Morillo, on recovering from his wound, col-
zealous in the cause of independence, and equally hardy lected his forces in order to continue the war ; and, at San
and resolute in their habits, retired to Assumption and the Jose, Bolivar had a narrow escape from being surprised
mountains, whence an active guerilla warfare was carried and taken prisoner by Colonel Lopez. On the plains of
on against the royalists, and with such effect that a scarcity Cojedos Morillo encountered the army of Paez, and both
of provisions soon took place, which obliged him to eva- claimed the victory ; but the result was most favourable to
cuate the island after six weeks possession, during which the royalists, as Paez’s cavalry suffered so severely that
time he had committed numerous acts of cruelty and op- they retired to the Apure to remount. The Spaniards,
pression on its inhabitants. In October the patriot army however, were obliged to retire from Calabozo, in conse-
was augmented by the arrival of officers, troops, and mili- quence of the successful hostilities of their opponents,
tary stores from England. Paez soon renewed hostilities, and one of his divisions
( Bolivar, now supreme chief, civil as well as military, pub- routed the Spaniards at Coro. On the 25th he was in pos-
lished a law distributing the national property among his session of the whole province of Varinas, and the low'er
followers according to their rank in the army, and orga- plains of Caraccas; having obliged the royalists, 1300 in
nized at Angostura a provisional government, toadminister number, under Calzada, to retire to Guanare. In the
public affairs until the congress should be assembled. On mean time Marino took Cariaco; and Admiral Brion hav-
the 31st January 1818 he joined the army with reinforce- ing dispersed the Spanish fiotilla, took, in the Orinoco,
ments at the mouth of the Apure, and, leaving sufficient royalist vessels laden with artillery, 10,000 stand of arms,
force, to blockade San Fernando de Apure, then in the and other warlike stores. On the 24th of July, he also
possession of the royalists, advanced with his principal took Guayana la Vieja by surprise. Morillo had now esta-
forces against Morillo, then encamped at Calabozo. The blished his headquarters at San Carlos,
royalists wrere attacked with so much vigour by the cavalry In October 1818, Bolivar appointed at Angostura a
under Paez, that one of their regiments of horse was near- council of government for foreign relations ; and writs were
ly destroyed, and they were compelled to take refuge issued on the 22d for the assembling of a congress at An-
99
Colombia.
' ^
100 COLOMBIA.
Colombia, ^ostura or Caraccas. His departure for the army having on the 25th January, and the Araueo on tne 5th Febi uaiy, Col
for some time been delayed by the defeat of Marino at and traversed to some extent the plains beyond it in seal cii w
Cumana by the Spaniards, he at length joined the divi- of Bolivar and his army, oi whose position he was entnely
sion under Paez. ignorant. Paez was forbidden by Bolivar to risk any serious
General Santander was sent by Bolivar from Guayana, encounter with the enemy, his force in point oi number be-
with arms and wrarlike stores, in order to organize the ing much inferior to that of the royalists, but to cany on a
friends of independence in Casanare ; communications hav- desultory warfare, and to cut oft then resources. nu|et*
W been opened with that part of New Granada by the to the country and mode oi warfare, the llamros and other
Apure and Casanare rivers. He arrived most opportunely cavalry of Paez, unincumbered with any baggage, cou t al-
at Pore on the 1st of October, and at once tranquillized, ways advance or retreat at pleasure on the shortest notice ;
by his superior authority and influence, the disputes for while the infantry, artillery, and baggage of the roya i»ts
supremacy previously existing among the patriot leaders in impeded all their movements, in a country full o ong
Casanare. He was generally acknowledged as the supreme grass, marshes, and creeks. the royalist cavalry alone
civil and military chief, and in six months he had under his were unable to cope with the llaneros of 1 aez ; and t icy
command aforce of 2000 infantry and cavalry ready to meet could not with safety separate from their infantry and ar-
the enemy. Since the entrance of Morillo into Bogota in tillery without exposing either to danger from their oppo-
1816, Casanare was almost the only part of New Granada nents, who were always ready to take advantage of any
where the patriots of these provinces could find a safe opportunity presenting itself to attack them.
asylum ; for Samano, who succeeded Morillo in the com- vanced guards and foraging parties were generally inter-
mand in New Granada, proved himself a fit successor to cepted and cut off to a man ; and at length they w cie un-
that vindictive chief. By his cruel and sanguinary con- able to feed their horses at any distance from their en-
duct he kept the prisons continually filled with patriots, campment, or even to cut glass ioi them, without the sup-
the oreater part of whom were shot, after a summary trial, port of their infantry. Iheir communication with the
Almost the only place of security for the patriots of New mountainous districts w^as suspended by the pati iotgueiiila
Granada were the plains of Casanare, where the popula- parties; they began speedily to be in want ot provisions
tion were all favourable to the cause of independence, and and other supplies, and lost numbers of men and horses
were protected from the influence of the Spaniards by the by sickness and other causes. ....
nature of their country, and their peculiar occupations and The danger and difficulty of his situation increasing
mode of warfare. It not only served as an asylum to the daily, Morillo was obliged to retreat; and having recrossed
patriots, but afforded numerous points frorti which to keep the Arauco on the loth, harassed by I aez and his fol-
up a correspondence with the friends of the cause in the lowers, he encamped at Achaguas, a position which he
mountainous districts, into which they made frequent hos- was obliged to evacuate for want of provisions on the ap-
tile incursions. When any of them fell into the hands of proach oi the rainy season, and to retire to San Canos,
the royalists, they were immediately put to death. Sa- This measure was accelerated by the intelligence receiv-
mano intended to have invaded Casanare with a large ed that Santander in Casanare had defeated and anmhi-
force, but was dissuaded from doing so by Morillo. He, lated a body of royalists 1500 strong on their way from
however, sent among them several large expeditions under Bogota to join Moriilo. Santanuer then advanced towards
Barreyro and others ; but such as did not lose their lives, Tunja, whose patriotic inhabitants received from him aims
or desert during these expeditions, were always in a few and other warlike stores, which he had obtained from An-
weeks obliged to return to the mountains with greater loss gostura.
in men, horses, and materiel, than the patriots whom they About this time Sir Gregor Macgregor landed at i orto
invaded, and who maintained against them a desultory and Bello with a small expedition from England. He was
harassing warfare, cutting off their provisions and other successful in obtaining possession ot that place; but ow-
resources. On his arrival, Santander pursued a similar ing to defective discipline and want ol caution they were
policy, avoiding any general engagement, his object being surprised by the royalists. I heir leader and a few otaeis
to preserve his army, lest any misfortune should befal that escaped to their ships and sailed; but the greater part
of Bolivar. He issued a proclamation, calling on his coun- were taken prisoners, and treated with such rigour and se-
trymen to join his standard, and placed himself in com- verity that very few of them eventually survived. .
munication with the patriot guerilla parties who had risen On the 15th of February 1819 the congress was instal-
up in Popayan, on the banks of the Magdalena, and other led at Angostura, the proceedings being opened by Bolivar
parts of the neighbouring provinces. in a long speech, explanatory of his views relative to the
Early in 1819 the cause of independence in Venezuela new constitution. Zea was elected president or the con-
assumed so favourable an aspect, that Morillo assembled the gress, into whose hands Bolivar resigned tne authoiity
royalist divisions of La Torre, Calzada, and Morales, and which he had previously exercised; but it was immediate-
advanced on San Fernando de Apure, which, although re- ly restored to him again by the congress, which terminat-
cently fortified, as the strongest position commanding the ed its sittings on the 17th. Bolivar then proceeded to
plains west of the Orinoco, the patriots were obliged to join the army which was assembling at Montecal, and had
abandon after destroying it by fire, as it was unable to re- been augmented from various quarters, especially by a con¬
sist a force of 5000 marching against it; and they retired siderable accession of British troops, and was preparing to
behind the Apure and Arauco, having previously secured march across the plains of the Apure and Casanare in order
their families and other valuables near the lagoon of Cu- to unite with Santander, and penetrate into New Granada,'
nivachi, on the banks of the Orinoco. Bolivar, with the for the purpose of liberating it from the power of the Spa-
patriot infantry and artillery, retired to a place of security niards ; Paez being left with the greater part of the cavalry
on the opposite side of the Orinoco, such forces being use- to watch and to check the movements ot Morillo, Calzada,
less on these plains. The whole of the patriot cavalry were and Morales. These had no apprehension of the proceed-
left under the command of the intrepid Paez, who had ings of Bolivar, as they did not conceive it possible that
also with him some of the British troops who had recent- he would, during the rainy or winter season, attempt to
ly espoused the cause of independence, and who with his cross the inundated plains arid the snowy mountains into
followers nobly acquitted themselves of the duties impos- New Granada; but such was the period chosen by Boil¬
ed upon them. Paez with his army crossed the Apure var to undertake this arduous enterprise; and between
COLOMBIA.
101
jiia. the rivers Apure and Arauco he began his march towards
L Guadalito in the end of May. They at length crossed the
Arauco and many other large rivers on the plains of Ca-
sanare, now flooded in consequence of the rainy season,
which greatly impeded their prggress, more especially that
of the infantry and artillery, which had to traverse whole
districts inundated with water; and after undergoing in¬
numerable sufferings, and surmounting all obstacles, they
united with the fo’-ces of Santander on 15th June.
Their march, being through a friendly country, was not
molested by the enemy until they came into collision with
the first advanced post at Paya on 27th June, which, al¬
though most advantageous by nature, and defended by
their best troops, was taken by the patriots. After un¬
dergoing many sufferings and hardships in crossing the
lofty Andes at this season of the year, they reached the
valley of Sogamoso,* and descended towards Tunja, where
they had many friends waiting their arrival. The royal¬
ists, however, took up an excellent position on the heights
of Bargas, between that city and the Andes, which on the
20th the patriots made an unsuccessful attempt to force;
but on the 25th they attacked them from another quarter,
and after an obstinate and sanguinarjr contest, in which
the British companies greatly distinguished themselves, at
length defeated the enemy with considerable loss, and
obtained possession of the city and province of Tunja,
with Socorro and Pamplona, where they received supplies
of all kinds, and numerous reinforcements. The royalists
on the 7th August attempted to pass the bridge of Boyaca,
in order to place themselves in communication with the
capital. While thus employed, they were attacked by the
patriots, and an obstinate battle took place, in which the
royalists were at length surrounded and compelled to sur¬
render ; General Barreyro and the whole army, except
about fifty of the cavalry, being made prisoners. So com¬
plete a victory as this decided the fate of New Granada;
and it is a very remarkable coincidence, that the last battle
fought and lost by the ancient inhabitants of the country
took place on the same spot.
No further obstacles presenting themselves to the pro¬
gress of the patriots, they marched towards Bogota, the
capital, which Bolivar and his army entered on the 10th,
seventy-five days after leaving Montecal, amidst the ac¬
clamations of the inhabitants, who expressed the Utmost
joy and gratitude for their deliverance. Samano, the cruel
and bigoted viceroy, had for some time previously been
committing his accustomed cruelties on the patriots; but
on learning the near approach of the liberating army, he
redoubled his measures of cruelty and oppression, and
employed the basest and most unjustifiable means to ac-
"complish his purposes, sentencing many to death, and con¬
fiscating the property of persons accused on the slightest
evidence. Among the victims on this occasion was a young
lady of good family, named Polycarpa Salavarrieta, whose
devotion to the cause of her country had induced her to
communicate to the patriots the most valuable intelligence
respecting the movements of the royalists. Her proceed¬
ings were discovered, and she was shot with her betrothed
lover in the plaza of Bogota, on which occasion she evin¬
ced the most heroic devotion to her country and to the
cause of liberty. The cruel treatment, by the Spanish
authorities, of all those suspected of attachment to the
cause of independence, produced effects the reverse of
those which its authors anticipated, and increased in a
remarkable manner the number of their determined ad¬
versaries; accordingly, on the entrance of the victorious
army they were joined by numbers of New Granadians.
Samano, detested and despised by both parties, deceived
the royalist troops in the capital as to the state of affairs,
and escaped in the disguise of a capuchin friar, proceed-
ing down the Magdalena on the 9th. He was followed by Colombia,
the principal Spanish authorities, who, dreading the ven-
geance of the victorious patriots, fled with such precipi¬
tation as to leave one million of dollars behind them in the
public treasury. Calzada with some followers retreated
to the south of New Granada, but was followed by a di¬
vision of the patriots, who took active measures to de¬
stroy the remaining influence of the Spaniards there. An¬
other division marched against Santa Martha, and a third
by Cucuta to unite with Paez, who had the command of
the western army of Venezuela, which, during the expedi¬
tion of Bolivar to liberate New Granada, had been actively
and successfully employed in carrying on hostilities against
the Spaniards, wherever they had stations or establish¬
ments on the plains. Marino commanded the eastern
army of Venezuela. A large body of English troops under
D’Evereaux joined the patriots of Colombia ; but, owing
to the mismanagement of the authorities in landing them
first on the barren island of Margarit a, insubordination and
discontent ensued, and many returned to Europe and there
circulated unfounded reports, calculated to injure the cause
of independence. Strenuous exertions were also made to
obtain from Angostura supplies of arms for the New Gra¬
nadians, who came forward in great numbers to join the
army.
Morillo, on being made aware of the. march of Bolivar
to New Granada, sent La Torre to take the command of
the army there; but he did not reach Cucuta until the
4th of March, a few days before the battle of Boyaca, and
the triumphant entrance of the patriots into Bogota. A
proposal for an exchange of prisoners was made by Boli¬
var at this time to the Spanish authorities, but was not
productive of any satisfactory consequences. On the 21st
of September, Santander, governor and vice-president of
New Granada, addressed a proclamation to the people,
calling upon them to support him in his endeavours to
defend and govern the country.
Bolivar now departed for Venezuela, and his reception
at Angostura afforded a most gratifying spectacle, as he
was hailed by all as the liberator and father of his country.
The congress of Venezuela, in accordance with the desire
of the people of New Granada to unite with them, pub¬
lished, on the 17th of December 1819, the fundamental
law by which New Granada and Venezuela were in future
to be united into one state, under the name of the re¬
public of Colombia, and the public debts contracted by
each of them were to be consolidated into one; and pro¬
viding also that a general congress should assemble at Cu¬
cuta early in 1821. On the 24th of December Bolivar de¬
parted amply provided with supplies of arms and ammuni¬
tion for the army of New Granada assembled at Pamplona,
and that of Paez in Varinas, it being his intention to con¬
centrate his army from all parts, to march against Morillo,
and complete the liberation of Venezuela; and, on the 20th
of January, a manifesto was issued to the people of Colom¬
bia, by Zea, the president of the congress. About this
time Ferdinand of Spain also published a proclamation to
bis South American subjects, holding out additional in¬
ducements to them to return to their allegiance; a docu¬
ment which was answered by an article that appeared in
the Correo de Orinoco. In evidence of the disposition of
the king of Spain at this time to conciliate, Morillo sent
commissioners to the congress to propose a cessation of
hostilities until a reconciliation could be effected. Let¬
ters of similar import were also received from him by the
various patriot generals, but all were replied to in the same
spirit and determination, that absolute independence was
the only basis on which they could treat; and the three
commissioners of Morillo were not allowed to approach
nearer to Angostura than the Orinoco.
COLOMBIA.
Colombia. An Ineffectual attempt was now made by Montilla from
Margarita against Rio de la Hacba, in which, with the aid
of the Irish legion of 800 men, he drove 2500 Spaniards
off the field. These foreigners, however, proved afterwards
so mutinous and insubordinate that they were sent to Ja¬
maica. Montilla and Brion then attacked and took Sava-
nilla at the mouth of the Magdalena, and the whole of the
surrounding country declared for the patriots. 1 he Mag¬
dalena was cleared of the Spanish gun-boats by the ga -
lantry of Massa and some volunteers, who, descending t le
river in canoes, attacked and hoarded them, althougi su¬
perior in force, and thereby rendered the navigation of the
river uninterrupted throughout its whole extent. Cartha-
gena alone remained in possession of the royalists, but was
speedily invested by the patriots. .
Bolivar, having changed his intention of attacking x o-
rillo, proceeded to New Granada, and at Cucuta conclud¬
ed with La Torre an armistice of one month, preparatory
to a more lasting accommodation. He then proceeded to
Mompox and Baranquilla to superintend the preparation
of an expedition against Santa Martha; but its departure
was delayed for some time by a sally of the garrison o
Carthagena, in which they put the patriots to flight, and
sacrificed many lives and much property. Bo ivar had a
narrow escape from being taken at this time. 1 he expedi¬
tion having sailed, took Fort Cienega by storm, after kill¬
ing 690 royalists, and next day Santa Martha surren¬
dered to Brion. The whole surrounding country now de¬
clared for independence; the militia and a consideiable
body of the Spanish cavalry having joined the patriots,
which compelled La Torre to retire towards Caraccas, in
order to save the remainder of his army from the contagion
of example. On the 25th of November an armistice for six
months was concluded between Bolivar and Morillo, foi
the purpose of sending commissioners to Spain to treat of
a permanent reconciliation; but although this object was
not eventually attained, yet the measure was productive
of the most beneficial consequences, in bringing to an end
the war of extermination, which had prevailed during so
many years; it being agreed by both parties that, in the
event of hostilities being renewed, their reciprocal treat¬
ment of each other should be regulated according to the
principles established among civilized nations. Iwo days
afterwards a meeting took place between Bolivar and Mo¬
rillo, at the headquarters of the latter, when the most
friendly intercourse ensued; passports were granted to
many of the patriot officers to visit their families in the
districts still occupied by the royalists, and officers carry-
in0- the gratifying intelligence were dispatched to all parts
of the country. On the 8th of November Guayaquil tie-
dared its independence, the troops having joined with the
inhabitants for this purpose, and united itself to the Co¬
lombian republic. Vargas, a descendant of the ancient
caziques, and colonel in the Spanish army, raised the stand¬
ard of liberty at Carora, when the whole territory as¬
sumed so favourable an aspect for the cause of indepen¬
dence, that Morillo proceeded to embark for Spain, ac¬
companied by Echevarria and Revenga, the two Colom¬
bian commissioners, in order to hasten the conclusion of
peace between Colombia and Spain; and a proclamation
of Bolivar, dated the 7th of November 1820, diffused joy
and gladness all over Colombia. In January 1821 the
province of Cuenca declared its independence; and this
example was soon followed by Hambate, Riobamba, and
Quaronda. On the 10th of March Bolivar wrote La Torre,
the new royalist commander in chief, stating the circum¬
stances which would oblige him to renew hostilities on
the 28th of April, when the armistice terminated, unless
peace was previously concluded; an intimation in which
• La Torre concurred, and then all prospects of peace and
tranquillity were for the time given up; but the
wa.. V4....VJ    —-   o • war Coloul)t
w h ich" fob owed was carried on in a mild and humane man-
ner compared with the preceding part of the contest.
The Spanish generals La Torre and Morales prepared
for the termination of the ajmistice, by collecting and con¬
centrating all their forces near Gilencia and Lalahozo;
but Caraccas having been left unprotected, induced the
patriot general Bermudez to invade it with 1300 men, who
overcame all the opposition ollered, the capital yielding
on condition that the new enactments relative to the mode
of carrying on the war should be observed. The adherents
of the royalists fled to La Guayra with all the property
they could collect, and sailed for Puerto Cabello, the go¬
vernor and troops of La Guayra accompanying them ; and
on the 15th of May this port was taken possession of by
the patriots. Coro was also now abandoned on hearing of
the preparations making to attack it, and the garrison
sailed for Cura^oa. On the 4th of May the Colombian
flotilla under Padilla, consisting of thirty gun-boats, got
into the harbour of Carthagena, and cut off the commu¬
nication of the city with Bocachica, when the former was
closely besieged.
On the 25th of May the patriots were driven out of Ca¬
raccas and La Guayra, by a superior force of royalists,
without Bermudez offering any opposition. On the 27th,
Morales left Pereira with 1500 men to defend the capi¬
tal, and joined La Torre at Valencia. Hostilities were
then renewed between Pereira and Bermudez; but the
former was at first unsuccessful, in consequence of which
the people of La Guayra retreated to Puerto Cabello on
the 22d. On the following day Bermudez attempted to
enter the capital by force of arms, but was repulsed and
obliged to retire by the royalists. Bolivar and Paez hav¬
ing united their forces in Varinas, marched towards Va¬
lencia, and met the royalist army on the 24th of June at
Carabobo, when the royalists were completely defeated.
The British troops greatly distinguished themselves on
this occasion. This battle decided the cause of indepen¬
dence. Of 6000 royalist troops, composing the elite of
their army, only 400 escaped to Puerto Cabello. Only a
small part of the patriot army was engaged, and they had
not above 200 killed and wounded. Pereira was soon
obliged to take refuge in La Guayra, and Bolivar entered
Caraccas with his army on 30th June, and immediately
surrounded La Guayra with 4000 men. 1 he garrison,
consisting of 900 men, was reduced to extremities from
want of provisions, and was only relieved from its pre¬
carious situation by the mediation ot the French admiral
Jurien, then at anchor in the roads. A capitulation was
signed between the contending parties, and the royalists
were all embarked on board the French ships of war. Ihe
royalists sent a division of troops by sea to Coro from
Puerto Cabello, which were opposed at these places by the
patriots, who were distributed over the various parts of Ve¬
nezuela where the Spaniards still exercised any influence,
in order to protect the inhabitants from their incursions.
The national constituent congress having assembled in
the city of Rosario de Cucuta, received the report of the
committee of legislation, on the plan ot a constitution tor
Colombia, dated the 3d of July 1821; and having review¬
ed it in detail, the scheme, as amended by the congress,
was at length published on the 30th of Augifst 1821, and
does much honour to its framers, from the liberal and
beneficent spirit which pervades it. Its principles were
republican, according to which the deputies and senators
were to be nominated by electoral colleges appointed by
the citizens, and each to hold his seat for a specified period.
The jurisdictions of the legislative, judicial, and executive
departments were accurately defined, so as not to inter¬
fere with one another, and yet act in harmony, so as to
COLOMBIA.
103
t|ia. render persons and property secure, and the laws equal
tnJ to the whole community. Bolivar was now re-elected pre¬
sident, according to the regulations of the new constitution;
and Santander, who had already distinguished himself by
his judicious management of public affairs at Bogota, was
elected vice-president of the republic.
The congress confirmed the grants previously made to
the military by the congress of Venezuela, in reward of
their services in favour of independence ; and also passed
laws relative to the salaries and appointments of the mili¬
tary and civil officers employed by the government. The
senators, according to the constitution, were named in Oc¬
tober for the first time by the congress ; and they resolved
to remove the sessions of the congress from Cucuta to Bo¬
gota, as the most eligible place for the seat of government.
The congress closed its labours on the 14th of October,
with an address to its constituents, stating what it had
done to promote education and knowledge, to abolish sla¬
very, to improve the revenue by the more judicious re¬
gulation of its various departments, to establish a free press,
and a variety of other improvements. Some days previous¬
ly, Bolivar issued a decree authorizing Santander to ex¬
ercise the functions of the executive power during his ab¬
sence with the army; and before his departure he publish¬
ed a proclamation to the people of Colombia, expressing
his full approbation of the excellent constitution which
had been conferred upon them.
Some time previously to this, 800 men had been sent by
Bolivar from Esmeraldas to Guayaquil, under Colonel Mac¬
intosh, to proceed against Quito, while he advanced by
way of Pasto. Soon afterwards, Guayaquil, by a decree,
placed itself under the protection of Colombia ; and about
the same time Cumana, which had held out so long for
the royalists, surrendered to Bermudez on the 15th of
October, and the garrison of 1500 men were sent to Por¬
to Rico. An expedition was in course, of preparation
at Carthagena against Panama, the inhabitants of which,
taking advantage of the departure of their governor, Gene¬
ral Cruz Murgeon, who, in combination with the royalists
of Quito, intended to attack Guayaquil, rose against the
remaining authorities, and established their independence
of Spain.
Morales, who remained commander-in-chief of the roy¬
alists after the departure of La Torre, made an ineffectual
attempt at Cura^oa to raise funds to enable him to carry on
the war; and on his return to Puerto Cabello he marched
with a body of troops, took possession of Coro, and de¬
feated, and pursued nearly to Maracaybo, a body of pa¬
triots sent against him. An attempt was also made by
the royalists to obtain possession of the city of Maracaybo;
but they were defeated by the patriots, and all either killed,
or made prisoners and sent to Jamaica. Puerto Cabello,
however, was still held out by the royalists, although
strictly blockaded on the land side by the patriot army
under Paez; yet, owing to the inefficiency of the Colom¬
bian marine, it was plentifully supplied with provisions
and other necessaries from Curacoa.
! In the southern provinces of Colombia the war was
vigorously carried on. Sucre formed a convention with
the Spanish general Aymeric in the end of 1821, but hos¬
tilities were renewed early in 1822. Bolivar, at the head
of a large army, proceeded by way of Pasto to Quito, and
encountered the royalists under Murgeon, on the heights
of Curiaco, on the 7th of April, when, after an obstinate
defence, they were defeated, and many prisoners taken,
their chief dying from the wounds he received: nearly
all their ammunition was also captured. The army of
Sucre, approaching Quito from Guayaquil, defeated the
royalists at Rio Bamba, a hundred miles from Quito, and
took possession of that town. On the 28th of May he
fought an action with the Spaniards at Pichincha, near Colombia.
Quito, in which he was completely victorious; and the w'
remains of the royalist army, together with the city of
Quito, capitulated to the patriots. On this occasion, as
well as at Rio Bamba, the Colombian army was assisted
by a division from Peru, which behaved with much gal¬
lantry ; so that, on these occasions, for the first time, the
patriot troops of Buenos Ayres, Chili, Peru, and Colombia,
fought side by side in the cause of freedom. Afterwards
the greater part of the royalist troops joined the patriot
army. Hostilities still continued in the province of Pasto,
where the rugged and mountainous country presented al¬
most insurmountable obstacles to the progress of Bolivar
and his army ; but he at length reached the city of Pasto,
where the Spanish authorities capitulated on the 6th of
June ; and thus the war of independence in the south was
brought to a conclusion.
In Venezuela, at this period, some efforts were made
by the royalists on the side of Coro, and with success; but
their resources soon becoming exhausted, Morales em¬
barked with the whole of his troops at Coro for Puerto
Cabello. On the 3d of August, Morales, with 2000 troops
from Puerto Cabello, marched against Valencia and Carac-
cas; but lie was met and defeated by Paez at Birgirama,
and very few of his troops escaped. On the 5th the roy¬
alists also made an attack on Ocumare, but were defeated
with great loss, and surrendered to the patriots, leaving
Puerto Cabello, the only place in Colombia in the posses¬
sion of the Spaniards; to the reduction of which the at¬
tention of the patriot army was now principally directed.
During 1823, Morales established himselfat Maracaybo;
but the fiotillji of Padilla forcing the passage into the lake
of Maracaybo, embarked the troops under Soublette, and
defeated and took the royalist flotilla, with Morales and
his followers, all of whom became prisoners, and were sent
to the Havannah. During this period Paez commanded
the army besieging Puerto Cabello, and every exertion w'as
made to obtain possession of it. The forts commanding
the approach to it fell into the hands of the patriots,
who at length, in November 1823, succeeded in taking
the town of Puerto Cabello by storm ; a battalion of their
number swimming, in the night time, across an exten¬
sive salt lake which divided it from the mainland, entered
the town and took the royalists in flank while engaged
in defending it in front against a feigned attack of the
patriots. The castle surrendered in a few days subse¬
quently, after a siege of two and a half years’ continuance.
With the surrender of Puerto Cabello, the whole terri¬
tory of the republic remained in the power of the patriots,
and the Spaniards were deprived of the only stronghold
which they, had with great exertion been enabled to pre¬
serve so long. At length the war of independence ter¬
minated, a war which, in many of its characteristics, is
unexampled in the annals of nations, and in which it lias
been estimated that in Venezuela a number nearly equal
to one third of its population perished.
There was now nothing to prevent the free progress of
their institutions; and the time appeared to have arrived
when their beneficial consequences might be experienced.
The congress made exertions to frame laws, which, al¬
though not always the most perfect, had at least a ten¬
dency to promote the public good. Some order was given
to judicial proceedings, which were assimilated in certain
instances to the jury system, to the complete establish¬
ment of which every one aspired who knew the defects
of the Spanish laws in these respects. It was declared
that the government of Colombia, as such, should in future
enjoy the exclusive right of church patronage, previously
exercised by the king of Spain through his governors in
America, under the name of royal vice-patrons. A law
COLOMBIA.
was passed, regulating the import duties and the other
public contributions; treaties of friendship and alliance
with Great Britain and the United States were made and
approved of; severe penalties were adjudged against theft
and robbery, and the modes of trial simplified ; the terri¬
tory of the republic was divided into departments, pro¬
vinces, cantons, and parishes, and the duties assigned to
the magistrates established in them clearly defined; besides
which, many other laws were enacted, explanatory of or
abrogating the existing ones.
The executive government vigilantly watched over their
due fulfilment, and issued decrees to facilitate their ope¬
ration, at the same time promoting, by every means in
their power, the public welfare within their jurisdiction.
The exterior credit of Colombia increased rapidly at th
period, and the mission of Zea to Europe produced a fa¬
vourable change in public opinion, owing to the open and
liberal manner in which he conducted the affairs of Co¬
lombia in England; foreign trade was greatly increased,
large capitals were transferred from Europe to Colombia,
and commerce flourished. Agriculture was promoted and
increased, and in every respect Colombia was m a tran¬
quil and prosperous condition until tne yeai ~o,
may be considered as the date of the commencement of its
misfortunes. . ...
General Faez, who had governed Venezuela in military
aftairs since 1821, exceeded the limits of his powers, and,
particularly in the application of the militia laws, violated
the guarantees of the citizens. He was in consequence
accused before the congress by the municipality of Carac-
cas, who presented detailed statements of the infractions
of the laws which he had committed. As the accusation
appeared to be well founded, it was admitted by the con-
oress; Paez was displaced from his command, and order¬
ed to appear in the capital of the republic, to take his
trial, according to the constitution.
Had this valiant warrior, who was second only to 13oii-
var in public estimation, for his services in liberating his
country, submitted to the judgment of the constituted au¬
thorities of his country, obedience to the laws would have
been permanently established in Colombia, and associate!
with the consequent order and prosperity; but instead o
adding this additional sacrifice to those he had previously
made, and subjecting himself to a trial, which his very
obedience would have rendered favourable, he yielded to
the influence of offended pride, and the councils of some
designing and insidious friends, who suggested to him
disobedience and rebellion. Some disturbances pi ©ced¬
ed this event, produced for the express purpose of repre¬
senting that the troops were displeased at being deprived
of their beloved commander. His adherents, by these
means, obtained from the municipality of Valencia a de¬
claration in favour of Faez, authorizing him to resume the
command, for the purpose of preventing greater evils.
The venerable Pehalver, governor of the province, would
not agree to this proceeding, but chose rather to expose
his life to the fyry of a mutinous populace, than stain his
illustrious name by such an act of weakness and disobe¬
dience to the laws. Having been successful in their first at¬
tempts to legalize these transactions, their exertions ob¬
tained similar declarations from many of the other munici¬
palities of Venezuela. They flattered the people with
the promise of federation, which all desired, and left no
effort untried to accomplish their purposes, by proclaim¬
ing reforms which, according to the constitution, could
not be permitted before 1831; and, finally, a commission
was sent to Bolivar, requesting him to come and inter¬
pose his influence. AH these transactions took place
among the conspirators and partizans of Faez; but al¬
though the people seemed tranquil, they ardently desired
their punishment, and the restoration of order, and were Col0*#f
resolved to wait until the year indicated, to improve or Wr/T
ratify their social agreement. Mo act was ever more re¬
probated, and the Venezuelians declined accepting of re¬
forms which were so desirable to them, because oflered to
them by illegal means. The eastern provinces declared
against Paez ; and some battalions withdrew themselves
in entire bodies from the authority of him whom they had
on so many previous occasions followed to battle. Many of
his most intimate friends abandoned him on this occasion,
and the fortress of Puerto Cabello declared against him.
The vice-president of the republic, Santander, took the re¬
quisite measures to enforce the laws ; and the time was ap¬
parently not far distant, when an infraction so serious, and
of such momentous consequences, would be deservedly
chastised. A man of such undaunted valour and resolution
might have made some resistance; but what qould his
efforts have accomplished against the people, the aimy,
and the government united ?
But Bolivar, who had been in Peru since 1823, thought
very differently. This celebrated chief, to whom has been
principally owing the independence of three of the Spa¬
nish American states, it must be stated, was not a republi¬
can in his principles, notwithstanding the distinguished ser¬
vices which he conferred upon his country; for it is necessary
to make a distinction between the cause of independence
and that of freedom. With respect to the one, he was en¬
titled to the utmost gratitude on the part of his country¬
men, as all the energies of the Spaniards against his ac¬
tivity, talents, and truly heroic constancy, were unavail¬
ing But it is a subject of regret that the same thing can-
mTt be said with regard to the other. It is evident that
many think differently; but his actions speak for them¬
selves, and it is necsssary particularly to refer to them
from the intimate connection of Bolivar with the country.
In 1810, he refused to participate in the first revolution ol
Caraccas in favour of independence, when he was aware
that they intended to establish institutions resembling
those of the United States of North America. In 181J,
he presented to the congress at Angostura a project of a
constitution, which two years afterwards was negatived
by the constituent congress of Cucuta, and which was
very similar to the British system, which served him as
a model; and in the discourse with which it was accom¬
panied he evinced his anti-republican ideas with sufficient
clearness. This project, with some few alterations, was
the same which he presented to the Bolivian republic, and
which, in the exuberance of their gratitude, was at once
accepted of, although they were aware that a president
for life, inviolable, and with the power of naming his suc¬
cessor, only differed from a king in the name. I he efforts
making in Peru to establish there the Bolivian code were
in progress, and with the most favourable prospects of suc¬
cess. It therefore only remained to have it also establish¬
ed in Colombia, where it had met with so great opposition;
and the rebellious movements of Faez appeared to bolivar
an excellent occasion of doing so. As soon as he was aware
of these transactions, he dispatched from Lima a young
man of talent named Guzman, in the character of his com¬
missioner ; and it is affirmed that he gave this person some
blank papers with his signature alone affixed, that he
might fill them up and direct them according to circum¬
stances. He also wrote some letters desiring his friends
to attend to whatever Guzman might communicate to
them. This commissioner appeared in the south of the
republic, and spoke against the civil war; exaggerated its
consequences; represented Colombia in the most melan¬
choly point of view; and suggested, as the only means ot
evading so many evils, that they should submit theinse yes
to the decision of Bolivar, who would hasten to then ai >
lolufeia,
COLOMBIA.
105
and who had sent him for the purpose of announcing to gratulating him that he still fully approved of the inviola- Colombia,
them his desire to be again useful to his native country. bility of the constitution, and exhorting him to support it
The letters which Guzman delivered produced the de- at all risks. His answer was short, cold, and evasive. He
sired results, and raised the merit of Bolivar, who by appointed Ilevenga his general secretary, with whom be
their contents seemed to be inspired, from the precision soon set out for Venezuela, previously issuing the decree
with which affairs and persons were delineated, addressing of 23d November, investing himself with all the extraor-
himself to every one according to his situation. In pub- dinary powers allowed by the 128th article of the consti-
lic meetings likewise Guzman acquitted himself with great tution of Colombia, and declaring that in his absence these
tact’ sometimes recommending the Bolivian constitution, powers might be exercised by the vice-president feantan-
*it other-times excusing Bolivar for having offered it to der throughout the whole of the tenitory where lie could
Colombia, and not unfrequently saying nothing on the not himself exercise them. The reasons assigned for these
subject - following always the views of the persons with determinations were, the unsettled state of the country,
whom he conversed or associated, and assuring every one, the fears lest the Spanish government should again renew
that whatever the political opinions of Bolivar might be, hostilities, and the desire which many of the people had
he was incapable of injuring the cause of freedom, and expressed that he should assume them. Duiing his jom-
would act in accordance with the general wish of the peo- ney from Bogota to Caraccas, he was engaged in issuing
pie. The additional renown acquired in Peru by Bolivar decrees on the different branches of the public administra-
during his absence from Colombia, and the marked predi- tion, sometimes suspending the operation of the existing
lection he always evinced towards his own countrymen, laws, at others correcting them, and in fact changing
insured him the general love and regard of the communi- every thing as he thought proper. He took several bat¬
ty. Thus it was that the people, the government, and talions along with him; but they were unnecessary, as,
even the rebels themselves, with one voice, cried out for immediately on his arrival at Puerto Cabello on the 31st
Bolivar. December 1826, he invited Paez to an interview in the
In some places, as at Guayaquil and Asuay, they car- vicinity of Valencia, and, notwithstanding the apprehen-
ried their enthusiasm so far as to declare in favour of the sions suggested to him by some persons belonging to Ve-
Bolivian code, and some even recommended the absolute nezuela, that*Paez or his adherents intended to assassi-
power of a dictator. Santander, in the exercise of the nate him, yet, whether from hardihood, or because he did
executive power as vice-president, disapproved of these not believe Paez to be capable of so base an action, he dis-
proceedings as seditious, and contrary to the constitution regarded them, and presented himself in the camp of that
which all had sworn to observe inviolate until 1831 ; and officer with the utmost confidence. The details of the in-
sent a dispatch to Bolivar expressive of its impropriety, terview have never been published; but the results were,
and of the fatal consequences which would be produced that they embraced each other, and the troops under the
if allowed to continue with impunity, and of the little ne- command of Paez, and the whole of the revolted territory
cessity the Liberator had for the tremendous power of die- of Venezuela, were placed at the disposal of Bolivar ; so
tator, when his presence alone as defender of the consti- that on the 10th of January 1827, at three p. m., about
tution was sufficient to deter its violators. But Bolivar eight months after the movement of Paez, Bolivar enter-
took no public notice of these transactions, notwithstand- ed the city of Caraccas in triumph. The enthusiasm with
ino- that they were elsewhere repeated after his arrival in which he was received in all the towns through which
Colombia. he passed was very great, particularly in Caraccas, his na-
At length he disengaged himself from the Peruvians, tive city, where the inhabitants expressed the utmost gra-
who, although in reality they wished to get rid of him, from tification at again seeing their illustrious fellow-citizen, af-
a spirit of contradiction, or some other cause, made the ter an absence of six years, employed in gaining triumphs
greatest efforts to detain him. The clergy, the army, the over the common enemy, and extending the domains of
municipality and corporations, even the ladies, and all in liberty. The impression that he had come to establish
town and country, united in requesting him to remain, order, and the manner in which he fed the public expec-
The electoral colleges adopted the Bolivian constitution tation, kept every one in a state of excitement. During
without restriction, and named Bolivar president for life, the ceremony of the entry, Bolivar placed Paez by his side
in order to persuade him to remain. But Bolivar, firm in the same triumphal car, which had been prepared with
as a rock, informed them, that although his inclinations great splendour, and took the necessary precautions_ to
prompted him to accede to their wishes, his country had prevent any thing being said or done which could give
called upon him, and that it was his paramount duty to offence to the latter.
obey, as serious dissensions had arisen in Colombia during When the rejoicings were concluded, the labour com-
his absence, which he alone could tranquillize ; that Peru menced of introducing the Bolivian code into Colombia
possessed men of sufficient eminence to govern it with ef- on the ruins of the existing constitution. Bolivar de¬
ficiency; and that if they should ever be in danger, he sired it with ardour; and, judging from the satisfactoiy
would be ready to succour them. He expressed his gra- manner in which he had been received, he believed that
titude to the Peruvians for their adoption of the Bolivian any thing proposed by him would be immediately adopt
constitution, and their nomination of him as president for T     *nr
life; but stated that he belonged to Colombia, and that
if permitted by that state to accept of the honour confer-
red on him, he would then give it due consideration, espe¬
cially as he was anxious to serve Peru by every means in
his power. He embarked at Callao on the 3d of Septem¬
ber 1826, and arrived at Guayaquil on the 14th, and im¬
mediately proceeded to Bogota, which he entered on the
14th of November. He was received by the vice-president
Santander in the principal hall of the palace, surrounded
by all the public functionaries, the municipality, and other
public bodies ; and after the preliminary ceremonies were
gone through, Santander-addressed himself to Bolivar, con-
VOL. VII.
ed". In an enthusiasm which sprung from gratitude and
patriotism, he fancied he perceived an absolute abandon¬
ment to his will ; a mistake which emboldened the para¬
sites who surrounded him. Thus deceived, or raised in his
own estimation, he began to work conformably; and as Ve¬
nezuela in his opinion gave the example to the other parts
of Colombia, all his attention was confined to that state.
He declared all the provinces in her territory to be under
his immediate protection, and subjected them to his parti¬
cular decrees, so that the authority of the vice-president
charged with the executive power had no share in them.
He changed almost all the public functionaries, dissolved
the battalions who had' declared in favour of the constitu-
106 COLO
Colombia, tion, and allowed those to remain who had supported Paez
in his disobedience. He issued a decree consigning to
oblivion the occurrences of 1826, comprehending the in¬
surrection of that chief. He was surrounded by persons
of the same sentiments. Even the enemies of independ¬
ence seemed at this period to be in greater favour with him
than the friends of the constitution of Cucuta, of whom he
only spoke in terms of ridicule ; and as his heart and head
were occupied with the Bolivian code, all the evils, and even
the insurrection of Paez, were attributed to that of Cucuta.
His inferior officers held similar language ; the periodical
publications re-echoed the note, and these issued from the
palace, having, it is affirmed, been written under the direc¬
tion of Bolivar. They recommended the necessity of a
strong and vigorous government. They said it was neces¬
sary to accustom themselves to “ see Bolivar in the govern¬
ment, and the government in Bolivar.” And finally, they
spoke of the empire of the Andes, or the confederation of
Peru, Bolivia, and Colombia, under the same code and pre¬
sident, as an occurrence certain and speedy. To these three
nations seemed at length to be confined the flattering hopes
of the great American confederation, which at this time
it was proposed to carry into effect, and for which purpose
a congress was convoked at Panama ; its professed object
being to strengthen the union then subsisting between the
states recently formed, to unite their forces, in case of an
attack, to settle any differences which might arise among
them, and to be on their guard in respect to the policy
of Europe. It may be supposed that Bolivar expected to
become chief of it, with the title of protector, or such like,
knowing that the idea had originated with him, and that
he had invited the different nations to send representa¬
tives to Panama. Bolivia, Peru, Colombia, Guatemala, and
Mexico, sent each two representatives ; but neither Chili
nor Buenos Ayres sent any. Great things were anticipat¬
ed from this august assembly, and the deputies believed
they had the destinies of America in their hands; but
their labours produced no other result than some prepa¬
ratory proclamations full of learning. Bolivar seemed sa¬
tisfied in Venezuela. But this satisfaction was incomplete ;
for numerous cares from other quarters crowded around him.
The congress then in session at Bogota was engaged in
considering the renunciation of the presidency which he
had sent from Caraccas, couched in the most decided terms;
and not being indifferent to the results, he knew that
many of the senators would vote in the affirmative. He had
likewise promised a convention composed of deputies from
all parts of Colombia, and the congress, yielding to his
desire, discussed the project; but Santander and the libe¬
ral deputies, believing that such a body would only serve
to legalize the views of Bolivar, opposed it, stating that
the congress had not the power to accelerate the period
fixed upon at the formation of the constitution for its re¬
vision. From this and other circumstances Bolivar was fully
aware that Santander had resolved to support the exist¬
ing constitution, and by means of it would be enabled to
injure his reputation and diminish his influence, both
within and without Colombia. Finally, Peru, taking ad¬
vantage of his absence, annulled the Bolivian code, and,
unmindful of past obligations, repaid Colombia and Bo¬
livar with insults, which the latter resolved to avenge
at all hazards. The auxiliary Colombian division which
had remained in Peru, instead of opposing these proceed¬
ings, rose against their principal officers, and declared
their determination to sustain the constitution of Colom¬
bia, which had been violated at Guayaquil and Asuay ; at
the same time declaring their determination to embark for
the purpose of establishing order and supporting the go¬
vernment, a declaration which was approved of by Santan¬
der, but viewed by Bolivar as a crime. All these reasons
M B i A.
obliged the latter to leave Venezuela and proceed to the Colony
capital of the republic, which was the centre of all the v—yv
operations now in progress.
After sending some troops in advance, he left Caraccaa
on the morning of the 7th June, leaving Venezuela under
the authority of Paez as principal chief. His departure
in no respect resembled his reception in Caraccas; he was
only accompanied by his military and other attendants,
and the contrast was so remarkable as to be sufficient to
convince any one of his diminished influence. On his ar¬
rival at Bogota, he had the satisfaction to find the decree
sanctioned convoking the convention or constituent con¬
gress of deputies, notwithstanding the opposition of San¬
tander ; and he ascertained at the same time that his re¬
nunciation of the presidency had not been admitted, al¬
though the pointed expressions used against him by some
of the senators, especially by Sehores Uribe and Soto,
who declared that Bolivar’s position at the head of affairs
in Colombia had become extremely dangerous to its wel¬
fare, and to the independence of the neighbouring repub¬
lics, were by no means calculated to excite pleasant re¬
flections. The latter even stated to the senate that by
day and night, nay even when asleep, he had been awak¬
ened to be advised to admit the renunciation of Bolivar,
and that the senator who did not do so ran the risk of losing
his head. With these two decrees the business of the
congress terminated; but Santander, aware of the ap¬
proach of Bolivar, required of them to remain united in
order to receive his oath of obedience to the constitution,
before delivering over to him the executive power ; which
ceremony Bolivar performed, and then entered on the
duties of president. The congress was immediately dis¬
solved, but not until it had approved of all the decrees
issued by him since his return to Colombia.
The elections for the convention, and the affairs of Peru,
afforded him abundant occupation. On the results of the
former depended the success of his plans; and with respect
to Peru, affairs had come to such a state that recourse to
arms had become unavoidable ; but as the critical state in
which Colombia then was rendered a war very inconveni¬
ent, he employed some time in exacting satisfaction ; and
a correspondence between the two parties was entered
into, which, instead of producing peace, engendered mu¬
tual animosity, on account of the insults and threats which
it contained. All his attention was therefore now di¬
rected to the convention which was to meet at Ocana on
the 2d of March 1828, but which did not assemble until
some days afterwards, and under no very favourable au¬
spices. The opinion so decidedly expressed by Bolivar
in favour of a vigorous government, a symbolical name
given to the Bolivian code, caused much embarrassment to
the deputies, the greater part of whom were either known
republicans, or pacific persons, who desired the welfare of
their country, but who from their own honourable feeling
could not persuade themselves of the truth of all that had
been attributed to Bolivar, and who besides feared the se¬
rious consequences likely to follow their not acceding to his
wishes. The remainder consisted of the ardent defenders
of the new measures proposed; but in a young country,
recently emancipated from a state of slavery, and where
public spirit had not yet been formed, the influence and the
innumerable resources possessed by a man like Bolivar
were equivalent to physical power, and calculated to attract
numbers to him. The army on its part also augmented
these embarrassments; for the various regiments hasten¬
ing to gain the favour of Bolivar, evinced their attachment
to his person, and made daring proposals to the convention
in favour of a vigorous government. Such proceedings
appeared criminal to the assembly, who required Bolivar
to correct them ; but as he took no measures for that pur-
COLOMBIA.
107
bia. pose, their insolence increased with their numbers. Final-
ly, the rumours of a conspiracy, which it was supposed
General Padilla was forming at Mompox, augmented
greatly the difficulties of their situation; for Bolivar not
only sent troops to the neighbourhood of the place of ses¬
sion, but he himself removed to Bucaramanga, only a few
leagues distant from Ocana; from which place he main¬
tained an official correspondence with the convention, and
a private one with his partizans belonging to it. The
style of the former was very different from that which he
ought to have used to the sovereign assembly represent¬
ing the nation, if only by way of example. Their har¬
mony and unanimity began to disappear, and parties arose
among them ; one supported by the influence of Bolivar ;
while the others, depending on the justice of their cause,
maintained themselves in opposition, notwithstanding the
conciliatory measures of the moderate party. In this way
some months passed over without agreeing to any thing;
until at length the Bolivian deputies, perceiving that it rvas
impossible to obtain any thing From the ultra-liberals, and
that even the moderate members also became equally
zealous in proportion to the efforts made to render them
favourable to the wishes of Bolivar, determined to sepa¬
rate themselves from the convention, for the purpose of
rendering the subsequent labours of that body useless.
Accordingly twenty-one of their number retired from
the convention; and two thirds at least being necessary
to give validity to their decisions, according to the de¬
cree of convocation, while the number of those who re¬
tired was more than one third, it was found necessary to
put an end to their proceedings. As those who had retired
were either friends or relations of Bolivar, or defenders of
his opinions; as he took no steps to oblige them to fulfil
the sacred duties confided to them by their constituents,
notwithstanding the convention required it of him, and
the duty was obligatory on him; and as ultimately many
of them went immediately to unite with him ; the inhabit¬
ants of Colombia attribute to Bolivar the dissolution of
the convention of Ocana. Thus the body in question at
length terminated its proceedings without accomplishing
any thing.
About this period some military men and others favour¬
able to him proclaimed Bolivar supreme chief or dictator at
Bogota; and there were not wanting persons who re-echo¬
ed this proclamation, since they perceived that there could
be no cause of apprehension to those who were in his fa¬
vour. He stated, that with the greatest reluctance, and
only as a proof of his obedience, he would consent to sub¬
ject himself to the responsibility of the dictatorship ; and
he proceeded directly to the capital to perform his duties.
Now commenced all the disasters which had thus been pre¬
paring. Notwithstanding that, by the decree calling toge¬
ther the convention, the representatives were declared in¬
violable and irresponsible for their opinions expressed in
the convention, such as evinced the greatest determination
in favour of the liberal system were expelled from their
country, and the honoured patriots Soto, Gomez, and others,
were obliged to leave New Granada. Nearly the whole of
those of Caraccas were ordered to expatriate themselves;
but the only instances in which it was carried into effect
were those of Chaves, Irribarren, and Tovar. Such was the
merit of this last, that when he inquired what was the
crime for which he was driven out of his country, in the
establishment of which he had during eighteen years made
sacrifices of all kinds, he was officially answered, that his
opinions were contrary to the new order of things, and
that history showed that not only criminals, but also vir¬
tuous men, had been expelled the country of their birth,
which they had faithfully served. There was likewise pub¬
lished a special decree for trying those who might com¬
mit the crime of conspiracy; and its enactments were a Colombia,
complete violation of all civil rights and guarantees. Bolivar
declared the vice-presidency extinct, and Santander was
appointed minister of Colombia to the United States. The
number and privileges of the army were considerably aug¬
mented ; the militia were invested with the military pri¬
vileges, and rendered amenable to the military laws and
tribunals; and as every one w7as obliged to enter the mili¬
tia, nearly all were placed beyond the protection of the
civil authorities, and at the mercy of their commanders;
tribunals and regulations of police .particularly oppres¬
sive were also established. Of the state of the public press
some idea may be formed from what has already been
stated, and also from the two following occurrences. Colo¬
nel Bolivar, aide-de-camp to the dictator, made a vow
that he would mutilate the fingers of Dr Azuero, judge
of the supreme tribunal of justice, whom he considered
as the author of an article written with much warmth
against these oppressive measures, and the military em¬
ployed in promoting them. He availed himself of an ac¬
cidental meeting to beguile his intended victim to a more
retired part of the city of Bogota, where he attempted to
execute his- purpose, treated him in the most brutal
manner, and would to all appearance have put an end to
his existence, had not General Cordova, who was acciden¬
tally passing, rescued him from danger. Such was the
impression produced on the mind of Azuero by this trans¬
action, that he made a representation to the Liberator,
requesting him either to punish the aggressor or to shoot
the complainant, otherwise he would consider it his duty
to cry out more loudly against the oppression and op¬
pressors of his county. The other instance was that of
Colonel Ferguson, also aide-de-camp of Bolivar, who went
with some soldiers to the printing office of one of the libe¬
ral newspapers, where they destroyed the printing press,
scattered the types over the streets, and burnt publicly all
the printed copies which were found. But neither Fergu¬
son nor Bolivar were reprehended or punished by General
Bolivar, whom they accompanied until they were eventual¬
ly killed by the persons engaged in the conspiracy which
soon afterwards took place.
The popularity of Bolivar had diminished to such a de¬
gree, and the discontent of the public had increased so
greatly, that some young men of consideration in society,
and of the principal families, formed a conspiracy to as¬
sassinate the Liberator, believing that the same person who
had previously wmn all their hearts when they only view
ed him as the author of their independence, the ornament
of Colombia, and the brightest star of South America, was
the origin of all the evils which affected their country. The
conspirators were arranging their plans when one of their
numberwas imprisoned, a circumstance which obliged the
others to anticipate the event; so that at midnight on 25th
September 1828 they attacked the palace, killing the sen¬
tinels, and breaking the doors of the apartment where they
believed Bolivar to be sleeping. But he had fortunately
escaped by a window. Colonel Ferguson, however, was not
so fortunate; for, hearing the noise at the bottom of the
stair, he rushed into the street, and was killed by the
commandant Carujo, who had just.then disarmed the guard.
Their intentions having been thus frustrated, they endea¬
voured in vain to obtain some other advantages during the
remainder of the night. They liberated General Padilla,
who was still in confinement, killing Colonel Bolivar, who
had him in charge. They attempted to storm the barracks
of the battalion Bargas; and, declaring that Bolivar was no
more, they endeavoured to gain some adherents, and de¬
fended themselves to the last; but being at length weaken¬
ed, pursued, and overpowered in every quarter, they were
not able even to escape, and, with the exception of Luis
108
COLOMBIA.
Colombia. Vargas Tejada, the whole were taken. This occurrence
was sufficiently remarkable to convince Bolivar of the
change which had occurred ; but all who observed his con¬
duct during the war of independence will be aware that
his resources, activity, and perseverance, were increased
according to the difficulty of his situation. On the other
hand, flattered with the splendour of his own glory, proud
of his services to his country, and also deceived by the
sycophants who surrounded him, he believed that the dis¬
content was confined to those engaged in the assault, and
that for his preservation from the others, energy alone was
necessary. Fourteen of them were shot, among whom
was General Padilla, so celebrated for his triumphs over
the Spaniards at Margarita, Carthagena, and the Lake of
Maracaybo. Various other persons were also condemned to
death ; a sentence, however, which was commuted into less
severe punishments. Among this number was Geneial
Santander, who for six years had governed Colombia, du¬
ring which time the prosperity of the republic had been
greatly augmented. In the process published in 1832 by
order of the congress of New Granada, when he was still
absent, we find, that instead of having any part in the con¬
spiracy, he disapproved of it as soon as he was aware ot its
existence; that they had never communicated to him the
place or the day, nor who were the conspirators, and only
spoke in general and ambiguous terms; that in conse¬
quence of his objections, they promised to desist fiom
their intentions, and left him strongly impressed with the
belief that nothing would happen; that notwithstanding
all this, he called the attention of some of the members of
government to the dangerous situation in which the na¬
tion was placed, on account of the general discontent
which prevailed ; and finally, that a short time before, he
had saved the life of Bolivar during another conspiracy
which had been planned, and which Santander by his in¬
fluence and exertions succeeded in putting down. YV hat
then were the grounds on which the punishment of death
was passed on him? The sentence states them to be his
known opposition to Bolivar, his great attachment to the
constitution of Cucuta, and lastly and principally, being a
military man, that he was under an obligation, according to
the military laws, formally to make known to the authorities
any existing conspiracy. In this way they considered him
as a military man in relation to the punishment, but as a
civilian in every other respect, since the tribunals, the pro¬
ceedings, &c. were different from those of the military
code ; besides which, he was not only not in active ser¬
vice, but had accepted a diplomatic appointment, as al¬
ready stated. Although Bolivar commuted his sentence
into depriving him of his military rank and honours, and ba¬
nishing him to Europe, with a prohibition against his land¬
ing in any part of the new world, under the penalty of hav¬
ing all his property confiscated, which in the mean time
was placed under the management of the government,
yet Santander was immured by General Montillain a dun¬
geon in one of the castles of Carthagena, from which he
was not liberated until after many months of suffering and
restraint, when he proceeded to Europe. In advancing
the energetic system determined on, Bolivar issued a de¬
cree, on the day after the conspiracy, declaring that, since
the moderation with which he had until then exercised
the absolute authority conferred upon him by the people
had produced an effect so very contrary to what was
expected, in future he would invest himself with all the
powers of the dictatorship without any restriction. He
ordered the vigilance of the administration to be redou¬
bled ; recommended the strictest military subordination ;
prohibited the use of the works of Jeremy Bentham in the
universities; issued a decree suppressing all the pro¬
fessorships on political rights and the rights of nations, as
injurious to the youth ; and took a number of other similar Colomtijj-
measures. But these proceedings naturally injured more
than they improved the position of the government. It was
soon made known that General Obando and Colonel Lo¬
pez had proclaimed the constitution in the south of Colom¬
bia ; so that, although the Peruvians had already entered
the territory of Colombia, Bolivar was so much occupied
with his own countrymen that he was prevented from direct¬
ing his attention to that quarter. The conciliatory means
employed with these two chiefs were, however, productive
of favourable results; and he was at length enabled to
march to the southern extremity of Colombia to meet the
Peruvians. The victory gained over them at Tarqui on
the 27th of February 1829 was decisive; and the treaty
formed in consequence with Peru was most honourable to
Colombia, which by it was completely indemnified and satis¬
fied. Bolivar had promised, and indeed convoked, another
convention in Bogota, which was to be installed in January
1830 ; and he was returning to attend to it, when he ascer¬
tained that the brave General Cordova had also proclaim¬
ed the constitution at Antioquia, his native place; and as
the activity and influence of this young man, who had been
so much distinguished for his gallantry in Peru, were so
w'ell known, General O’Leary was immediately sent with
troops to attack him. The number of Cordova’s adhe¬
rents was too small to resist the attack. Of this he was
fully aware ; but his brave and decided character induced
him to prefer death to surrendering on the conditions of¬
fered to him. Before the action, and during its continu¬
ance, he refused to accept the pardon offered to him, un¬
til he was assured that the constitution would be re-esta¬
blished ; an agreement which O’Leary was very far from
entering into, as he required him to surrender at dis¬
cretion. Cordova at length shut himself up in a house,
which he defended to the last extremity, until he was
himself wounded, and the greater part of his followers
killed, when the firing ceased from within. The command¬
er, Hand, an Irishman, then entered to observe the scene,
and had the cruelty to put an end to the existence of the
brave Cordova, who was still alive.
The triumph over Peru, the result of the negotiation
with Obando and Lopez, the extermination of the party of
Cordova, and the fortunate issue of the elections for the
new convention, which had fallen principally on those fa¬
vourable to the Bolivian code, greatly elevated the hopes
of Bolivar. He now believed that the republican spirit,
which had hitherto opposed his designs, and retarded the
organization of Colombia under the system which he ap¬
proved of, had disappeared. In this persuasion he wrote
a letter to Paez, eulogizing the future convention with the
name of the “ admirable.” He at the same time lamented
the state of the nation, and declared that he only wished
to know what the people desired, in order to comply with
it; and he authorized them to express themselves with
perfect freedom. Paez sent the letter to the chief of
the police of Caraccas, who called together a popular
meeting of the inhabitants of that city on the 25th of
November 1829. But although the prefect of the pro¬
vince was a relative of Bolivar, and a decided supporter
of his opinions, and co-operated on this occasion in the
expectation that the result of such a meeting would be
favourable to the object for which it w'as called, yet his
conclusions proved as erroneous as those of the author
of the letter; for the inhabitants of Caraccas, instead
of proclaiming Bolivar, declared that they did not desire
any longer to depend upon his authority ; that their wish
was that Venezuela should separate itself from New
Granada, where he governed; that a congress should be
assembled from all the provinces of Venezuela, to orga¬
nize a popular representative government, alternative and
pi)13'
rr
COLOMBIA.
109
responsible; that by this separation no alteration should
in any degree take place with regard to their engagements
with other nations; and finally, that they desired peace,
friendship, and union with the other sections of Colombia.
Of these resolutions, which were the result of two days’
discussion, and the principal reasons which produced them,
a copy was sent to General Paez by a commission of four
persons, appointed by the inhabitants. Paez was in Va¬
lencia, thirty-six leagues distant from Caraccas, and the
opinion of a chief like him at the head of the military
force of Venezuela was of great importance to the inha¬
bitants of Caraccas, however just their cause; but Paez,
impressed with the importance of the duties imposed upon
him by his situation, and the deference due to public opi¬
nion, replied, that since the Liberator had desired to know
the wishes of the Venezuelians, they were entitled to ex¬
press themselves freely, and he assured them that they
would on no occasion be molested in doing so; that if the
whole of Venezuela should identify itself with Caraccas,
he said he wras only a subject of the majority, to whose
decision he respectfully submitted ; for although he great¬
ly respected Bolivar, he respected still more the voice of
the nation, the only source of legitimate authority.
In fact, before the end of the year 1829, the whole of the
provinces, towns, and villages of Venezuela had proclaimed
the same principles as Caraccas; in consequence of which
Paez convoked a congress, which met at Valencia on the
6th May 1830. It was composed of some of the most aged
and experienced patriots, and all its proceedings were
marked by an earnest desire to contribute to the welfare
of the country. They sanctioned the constitution, which
was to regulate Venezuela on the basis of the republican
system proclaimed in the year 1810; the army was re¬
duced in number to those absolutely necessary to preserve
the fortified stations; and all the military who were not in
actual service were rendered amenable to the civil autho¬
rities. They recognised on the part of Venezuela their en¬
gagements with other nations, declaring inviolate the do¬
mestic and foreign debt; and they resolved to arrange the
terms of payment in conjunction with the other sections of
Colombia. Lastly, they determined that Venezuela should
again unite with Cundinamarca and Quito on principles
of federation, as soon as these states should be properly
constituted.
Although Caraccas had sent to Bolivar on the 24th of
December 1829 a representation stating the evil conse¬
quences likely to ensue from any opposition toils resolutions
expressed on the 25th November, and beseeching him not
to stain his reputation by making war against his native
country, but that, on the contrary, he would allow them
to organize themselves in peace, and that he might co¬
operate with his influence in the'ir favour, yet Bolivar
was taking the most active measures to prepare for the
invasion of Venezuela, when the constituent congress, de¬
nominated by himself the admirable, met at Bogota. In
accordance with the practice he had observed with all
preceding congresses, Bolivar resigned his authority ; but
this constituent congress, although composed of his own
adherents, did not imitate their predecessors; they ad¬
mitted his resignation, and General Bolivar, for the first
time since 1812, was divested of the supreme authority ;
so great an impression had the proceedings in Venezuela
produced in Colombia. Besides, the admirable congress
formed a constitution somewhat liberal, and named a com¬
mission of their own body to present it to Venezuela;
selected as successor to Bolivar in the command, Dr Joa¬
quin Mosquera as president, and General Domingo Cay-
cedo as vice-president, both true and honourable patriots ;
and used their utmost endeavours to conciliate and win
over the people of Venezuela. But the congress of that
country, who saw nothing advantageous in all these pro- Colombia,
posals, who had already formed a constitution more suit-
able to their country, and who were fully aware that the
central system which they were now invited to adopt was
the most opposite to their interests, as they had experien¬
ced during a period of nine years that they had lived un¬
der it, refused the invitation, replying that Venezuela was
ready to unite itself with Cundinamarca and Quito by an
agreement of federation, but in no other way. The Eng¬
lish vice-admiral, Elphinstone Fleming, was at this time
in Venezuela, and contributed materially to the pacific or¬
ganization of the state, since by his knowledge and expe¬
rience he prevented a rupture. He spoke to each party with
equal freedom, and recommended peace to both; an im¬
portant service, of which the people of Venezuela have a
lively and grateful recollection, and they will not soon for¬
get the interest he took in preventing a civil war.
When Bolivar saw that his renunciation was accepted,
and that the edifice which he had raised was falling to
pieces, he requested and obtained permission to leave the
country and proceed to Europe. Fully aware that his
presence was the principal obstacle to the tranquillity and
happiness of his country, he had still an opportunity of
saving some part of his reputation, by banishing himself,
and allowing his countrymen to act with freedom. He,
however, disembarked his luggage, which had been sent
on board ship, and remained at Carthagena, to the mani¬
fest injury of his own credit and the peace of Colombia.
His presence there was to some persons an object of com¬
passion, to others a pretext for committing crimes; but to
the military men in particular he served as a magnet to
give movement to their swords. Quito, under the command
of General Flores, withdrew its allegiance to the govern¬
ment and constitution established by the admirable con¬
gress. Cundinamarca was studded with military parties, who
proclaimed Bolivar. The president Mosquera laboured in
vain to establish order, to calm the passions, and to render
the new code efficient. Affairs at length reached such a
state, that the commander of the battalion, Callao, and some
militia, summoned the administration to surrender; and
after an attack, in which the blood of the republicans
flowed in great abundance, its commander occupied the
capital of Colombia, proclaimed Bolivar, and placed Ge¬
neral Urdaneta provisionally at the head of the govern¬
ment, until Bolivar should arrive to perform these duties.
Even Venezuela, although already constituted, did not
fail to suffer on this occasion. The Bolivian agents pre¬
vailed upon General Monagas to revolt, and by his influ¬
ence some of the eastern provinces refused obedience to
the government of Venezuela, to whose constitution they
had recently sworn; and it is painful to say, that Cartha¬
gena was the source of all these evils, ihere Bolivar re¬
sided, surrounded by those instruments which were de¬
stroying Colombia and himself. The malignant adulation
of these men was the atmosphere which he respired; he
saw nothing except what they allowed him to see, neither
did he hear any thing but what they told him. On the
other hand, his health was greatly impaired in conse¬
quence of continued indisposition, aggravated by depres¬
sion of spirits; and in this state of bodily and mental
weakness he was induced to affix his name to a proclama¬
tion, in which, instead of reproving and reprehending the
factious, he accepted their offers, and gave some obscure
hints of his intentions to place himself at their head. But
Bolivar was now nothing in Colombia. The congress which
he had himself called together admitted his renunciation,
named another chief in his place, and sanctioned a code
which was already in operation in New Granada. T he pro¬
clamations in favour of Bolivar were therefore criminal,
and it became a crime to receive them. These proclama-
110 COLOMBIA.
Colombia, tions, however, were prevented from proving so injurious nearly the same as that of Venezuela, declaring their reach-Coloin
as they might have done by the death of Bolivar, an event ness to unite in federation with the other states to re-or-
which, by destroying the centre, dissipated all the hopes ganize Colombia. It restored Santander to the rank and
of the factious. His death took place at one p. m. on the honours of which he had been dispossessed by the govern-
17th December 1830, in the village of San Pedro, near ment of Bolivar ; approved of his entire conduct, and
Santa Martha, after an illness of several months, increased called him back to his country as-one of her most il-
in consequence of a life of great agitation. lustrious sons. Ihe public debt was also declared sacred,
Thus terminated the existence of the founder of three and directions were given to regulate its ultimate pay-
nations, all of which he left in a state of commotion, ment in concert with the other states. At length Santan-
We are unwilling on the present occasion to decide whe- der was elected provisional president, and the congress
ther Bolivar intended to perpetuate his own power, or was dissolved, to allow the constitution to be put in force,
whether he at last resolved to establish a monarchy in as was immediately done. In the month of October, the
Colombia, anticipating that time will reveal secrets which elections of president and of the deputies had been carried
distance and other reasons render inscrutable to us at pre- into effect; and Santander having returned, assumed the
sent; but judging from his actions, it is evident that he reins of government, having been, by a great majority,
never conceived that the new American states, formerly elected president for the first constitutional period; so that
Spanish, could be governed by institutions similar to those the prospects now presented to New Granada are those of
of the United States. If such had been his opinions, the permanent tranquillity and happiness. The state of the
imputations of his countrymen would have been unjust; Equator or Quito has been indebted to the influence of
but having used his utmost endeavours to render his will General Flores for its preservation from the civil war, and
paramount to that of the nation, and employed for that is governed according to a constitution which was formed
purpose the means intrusted to him for very different in 1831 by a convention of its representatives. This state
purposes, he was quite inexcusable. It cannot, however, be has made declarations similar to those of Venezuela and
denied that Bolivar loved his country; that to him is due Cundinamarca, relative to the payment of the public
the emancipation of Colombia, Peru, and Bolivia, and per- debt, and the re-organization of Colombia on principles
haps also a considerable extent of other parts of Spanish of federation. General Flores has been named constitu-
America; and that his services, in this point of view, en- tional president, and, under his administration, order has
title him to the gratitude of the Americans, and to the ad- been maintained, and prosperity has begun to appear,
miration of those who know that through his means were It now only remains for the three states to unite, by
broken asunder the chains which for three hundred years means of the commissioners appointed to arrange the kind
held in slavery a numerous population, who now, in the of agreement which is to bind them together, which, ac-
enjoyment of freedom, occupy an important place among cording to the public opinion throughout these countries,
independent nations. will be on the basis of common interest, so as to avoid all
On the death of Bolivar, the political commotions gra- grounds of future dispute ; or, to use the words of the 227th
dually ceased, and peace and tranquillity began to prevail article of the constitution of Venezuela, an agreement re-
all over Colombia. General Monagas was reconciled to gulating and representing the high relations of Colombia,
the government of Venezuela on the 24th of June 1831, Thus, diplomatic legations, war and peace, the currency,
the constitutional system was re-established in the dis- the domestic and foreign debt, and the military force of
turbed provinces, and since that time all has been order each state, will probably be the object of the attributes
and harmony. Venezuela is governed by its own constitu- of the general government, more or less modified, as the
tion and laws, and it has a congress, which meets in the convention which is about to assemble may judge proper,
beginning of each year. The representative body is di- The amount of the foreign debt of Colombia was six
vided into two chambers, and its attributes are in relation millions sterling in 1824, since which time no interest has
to the general interests; while in each province there is been paid; consequently it has increased during the last
a kind of minor legislature for local and economical affairs, eight years to about nine and a half millions, by an accu-
The executive, which consists of a president and vice-pre- mulating interest of six per cent, annually. The influ-
sident, endeavours to accommodate itself to the state of ential classes throughout Colombia are fully impressed
public opinion. Strict economy, and a moderation truly with the great importance of re-establishing on a firm
republican, have succeeded to the extravagant expendi- basis the national credit; and it is confidently anticipated
ture which had been produced by the excitement of gigan- that their respective legislatures will, at an early period,
tic projects, with manifest injury to the morals of the people, exert themselves to accomplish this important object,
as well as to the public treasury. The conduct of General The extensive tracts of uncultivated lands, and various
Paez during this new epoch in Colombia has been so ex- other resources, are available for this purpose; and, with
emplary as to cause his errors in 1826 to be more effectu- the economical system now introduced into the admini-
ally consigned to oblivion, than by the decree of Bolivar stration of public affairs, will greatly facilitate so desirable
already mentioned. His submission to the congress, his an end. The latest intelligence from Bogota and Carac-
attachment to the liberal system, his zeal in promoting cas, which reaches to the end of the year 1832, indicates
obedience to the laws, and in using every exertion to avoid that these countries are tranquil and prosperous, and have
a civil war, have procured for him the respect and confi- every prospect of its continuance. There is now no proba-
dence of all. He was almost unanimously elected presi- bility of their being again engaged in any civil or foreign
dent in 1831; since which time his moderation and disin- war. Any recourse to such means have been rendered un-
terestedness have been such, that the duties of the su- necessary by the judicious principles which have regulated
preme magistracy have been principally performed by the their conduct in the late separation of Colombia into the
vice-president Urbaneja. three separate and independent states of Venezuela, New
Cundinamarca has likewise been tranquil since 1831. Granada, and Quito, each of which takes cognizance of all
The factious having laid down their arms, the country has the internal affairs of its respective territory, and only acts
been governed by the vice-president Caycedo in the ab- in union on general and exterior affairs. Their different
sence of the president Mosquera; and the people proceed- constitutions, which, with little variation, are the same
ed to the election of deputies, to form the convention of as that of Cucuta, passed in 1821, have made such favour-
New Granada, which, in 1832, sanctioned a constitution able impressions on the minds of the people, in conse-
COL
COL
111
c<
C(.ny-
ttel
quence of the beneficial results which they have already
experienced from it, that its authority is now paramount
to every other. No danger need be anticipated in future,
since the good sense and patriotism of the people have so
successfully defended its integrity against such powerful
assailants as Generals Paez and Bolivar. The former, so
much beloved in Venezuela for his heroism and gallantry
in the cause of independence, was not permitted with im¬
punity to deviate in the slightest degree from the regula¬
tions established by the laws of his country; and the latter,
the idol of his country, and almost worshipped for his
great and meritorious services in the same noble cause,
no sooner forgot his duty to his country, and attempted
to overthrow its constitution, which experience had proved
to be so beneficial, than the people rose with one accord
in its defence, and hurled from the elevated station which
he had so long held over their hearts and country, the dis¬
tinguished individual who had opposed them and attempt¬
ed to destroy their liberties. But for these unfortunate
occurrences, there is no reason to believe that civil dissen¬
sions of any kind would have occurred in Colombia, as the
previous and subsequent periods of their history sufficiently
demonstrate. It may be observed of them, as of the other
new states of South America, that, considering the state
of servitude, and of moral and intellectual debasement, in
which they were kept for three centuries under the domi¬
nion of Spain, and almost in complete ignorance of the na¬
ture and existence of those valuable institutions which they
now enjoy, it is not surprising that, inexperienced as they
have all been in political science, they should have com¬
mitted some errors, and have occasionally engaged in civil
dissensions, in consequence of ambitious and unprincipled
men usurping the authority over their countrymen. Yet
it augurs well for the future prosperity of these countries
that such attempts have in no instance been attended with
permanent success, the people being too much alive to the
importance of free institutions to submit to any serious Colonnade
privation of them. They possess a great facility of ac- fl
commodating themselves to existing circumstances which Colony,
cannot be easily avoided; but being fully aware of the
advantages of liberal institutions, they keep them steadily
in view, and will sooner or later have them firmly esta¬
blished in their respective countries. In Europe, almost
the only intelligence circulated respecting these states
has been their errors and civil dissensions, which alone
give a very incorrect view of their moral and political con¬
dition. Careful observation, however, evinces that they
are all making rapid advances- in the arts and institutions
of civilized life, and will ere long with justice assume an
important station in the scale of civilized nations. When
the advantages which they naturally possess for com¬
merce, agriculture, mining, and all branches of industry,
the beauty and salubrity of their climates, and the mild
and amiable character of their inhabitants, are sufficiently
well known and appreciated, the surplus population of
Europe will resort in crowds to those favoured regions,
to participate in all the advantages of their abundant re¬
sources and free institutions.
The congress and government of Venezuela have adopt¬
ed efficient measures to encourage immigration, by con¬
ceding exemptions and privileges to such foreigners as
desire to settle in their country. In an order circulated
to the governors of the provinces, by the minister of the
interior, dated 19th November 1831, the government, after
acknowledging their obligations to those foreigners who
have assisted their country in its struggle for independence,
invite others to settle among them. The inhabitants con-
■curring in these sentiments, societies have been formed to
aid such as may arrive, to whom it is proposed to give land
for cultivation, free of expense for a certain period.
Account of Colombia, 1822; Historia de Colombia, por Re-
strepo, 1827 ; Memoirs of General Miller, 1830. (u. u.)
COLONEL, in military matters, the commander in chief
of a regiment, whether of horse, foot, or dragoons. Skinner
derives the word from colony, being of opinion that the
chiefs of colonies, called coloniales, might give name to
chiefs or commanders of forces.
Colonel-Lieutenant, an officer who commands a regi¬
ment of guards, of which the king, prince, or other person
of the first eminence, is colonel. Colonel-lieutenants had
always a colonel’s commission, and are usually general
officers.
Lieutenant-Colonel, the second officer in a regiment,
who is at the head of the captains, and commands in the
absence of the colonel.
COLONNADE, in Architecture, a range of columns, a
peristyle of a circular figure, or a series of columns dis¬
posed in a circle, and insulated on the inside.
A Polystyle Colonnade is that the number of whose
columns is too great to be taken in by the eye at a single
view. Such is the colonnade of the church of St Peter’s at
Rome, consisting of 284 columns of the Doric order, each
above four feet and a half diameter, all in Tiburtine marble.
COLONUS, a husbandman or villager, who was bound
to pay yearly a certain tribute, or at stated times of the
year to plough a certain part of the lord’s land; and hence
is derived the word clown, which is synonymous with the
Dutch boor.
COLONY.
Introduction.—Meaning of the term Colony.— Two Spe¬
cies of Colonies; 1. That in the Conception of which the
Idea of Population predominates ; 2. That in the Con¬
ception of which the Territory predominates.
t The term “ colony” has not been used with much pre¬
cision. Dr Johnson defines it “ A body of people drawn
from,the mother country to inhabit some distant place
and it would not be easy to find a short expression better
calculated to embrace all the particulars to which the
name is ever applied. Yet this will be found to include
some very heterogeneous objects ; nay, more, to embrace
particulars to which the term “ colony” really does not
extend. When the French Protestants, for example, set¬
tled in great numbers in England, and in the united pro¬
vinces, they were “ a body of people drawn from the mo¬
ther country to inhabit a distant placebut did not for that
reason become a colony of France. Let the first part of
the definition be supposed to be correct, and that a colo¬
ny must of necessity be “ a body of people drawn from the
mother countrysomething more is necessary to complete
the definition than the idea of inhabiting a distant place;
for not every sort of inhabiting constitutes them a colony.
It seems necessary that, inhabiting a distant place, they
should not come under the authority of any foreign go¬
vernment, but either remain under the government of the
112
COLONY.
Colony.
mother country, or exist under a government of their own.
Of colonies remaining under the government of the mo¬
ther country, the West India islands of the different Euro¬
pean states afford an example. Of those existing under a
government of their own, the most celebrated example is
found in the colonies of the ancient states of Greece. The
United States of America, as they constituted an example
of colonies of the first sort before the revolution which dis¬
joined them from the mother country, so they may be re¬
garded asconstituting an example of colonies of the Grecian
sort, now that they exist under a government of their own.
Our resentment at their preferring to live under a govern¬
ment of their own has indeed often prevented us from
regarding them in the endearing light of a colony 01 daugh¬
ter country. It has made us much rather apply to them
the name of enemies, and in our feelings towards them
has mixed up a greater proportion of the hostile than the
friendly ingredients. . .
Again, the term “ colony” is sometimes employed in a
sense in which the idea of a body of people drawn from
the mother country hardly seems to be included. _ I bus
we talk of the British colonies in the East, meaning, by
that mode of expression, the East Indies. Yet it can
hardly be said that any body of people is drawn from the
mother country to inhabit the East Indies. Tdiere is no¬
body drawn to inhabit, in the proper sense of the word.
A small number of persons, such as are sent to hold pos¬
session of a conquered country, go; and in this sense all
the conquered provinces of the ancient Roman empire
might be called what they never have been called, colo¬
nies of Rome. .
In the meaning of the term “ colony, the predominant
idea among the ancient Greeks and Romans appears to
have been that of the people, the egress of a body of peo¬
ple to a new and permanent abode. Among the moderns,
the predominant idea appears to be that of the territory,
the possession of an outlying territory ; and, in a loose way
of speaking, almost any outlying possession, if the idea of
permanency is united, would receive the name of a “ co¬
lony.” If we use the term with so much latitude as to
embrace the predominating idea, both of ancients and mo¬
derns, we shall say that a colony means an outlying part
of the population of the mother country, or an outlying
territory belonging to it, either both in conjunction, 01 any
one of the two by itself.
Sect. \.— Of that Class of Colonies in the Conception of
which the Idea of the People is the predominating Idea.
Of this sort wTere the Roman and the Grecian colonies,
and of this sort are some of the British colonies.
1. The Roman colonies arose out of a peculiarity in the
situation of the Roman people. In Rome, as in other
countries, the lands were originally regarded as belonging
to the state, and as belonging to the people when the
people took the powrers of government to themselves. A
sense of convenience there, as everywhere else, rendered
the land private property by degrees ; and, under a form
of government so very defective as the Roman, the in¬
fluence of the leading men enabled them in a short time
to engross it. The people, when reduced to.misery, did
not altogether forget that the land had once been regard¬
ed as theirs, and every now and then asserted their claims
in so formidable a manner that, when aided by circum¬
stances, they compelled the ruling few to make something
of a sacrifice. They did not indeed compel them to give
up the lands which they had appropriated ; but it always
happened that, in the countries conquered by the Romans,
a portion of the lands was public property, and continued
to be cultivated for the benefit of the Roman state. When
the importunity of the people for a division of lands began
to be troublesome or formidable, a portion of these lands
was generally resorted to, enough to take off the most fiery
of the spirits, and, contenting the leaders, to quiet the po¬
pulace for a time. I he portion of land set apart for the
purpose was divided at the rate of so much for every man;
and a sufficient number of persons to occupy it, and to
form a community, were sent out, more or less provided
with the various supplies which were necessary for com¬
mencing the settlement.
In the nature of an establishment of this description
there is no mystery, and hardly any thing which requires
explanation. The colonists lived in a Roman province,
under Roman laws, and differed not materially from the
people of any other local jurisdiction. Being once got rid
of, no further advantage was expected from them than from
the other inhabitants of the country, in paying taxes, for
example, and furnishing men for the army. In a few
instances, in the planting of colonies, some benefit was
looked to in the way of defence, when they were esta¬
blished in newly-conquered countries, the people of which
were not yet patient under the yoke, or when they were
placed in the way of invading enemies. But not much
advantage of this sort can be derived from a colony which
in general has more need to receive than ability to yield
protection.
These colonies were planted wholly for the benefit of
the Roman aristocracy. They were expedients for pre¬
serving to them the extraordinary advantages and powers
they had been enabled to assume, by allaying that impa¬
tience of the people, under which the retention of their
usurpations became difficult and doubtful. The wonder
is that the people were so easily contented, and that,
having the means of intimidating the aristocracy to so
great a degree, they did not insist upon greater advan¬
tages. And the pity is that they understood so little
what was for their advantage. If, instead of demanding
a portion of land, the benefit of which, at best, was only
temporary, they had demanded good laws, and had ob¬
tained efficient securities for good government, securities
against that prevalence of the interests of the few over
the interests of the many, which existed to so great an
extent in the Roman government, as it has existed, and
still does exist, in almost all other governments; they
would have rendered to themselves, and would have ren¬
dered to the human race, the greatest of all possible ser¬
vices. But the human mind had not then made sufficient
progress to see distinctly what was the real object of good
government, or what the means which would be effectual
in attaining it.
2. We next come to the class of colonies which are
exemplified in the case of those sent out by the Greeks;
and we take them in order subsequently to the Roman,
because there is something in them for which rather more
of explanation is required. Of those early migrations
which carried a Greek population into Asia Minor, and at
a later period into Italy and Sicily, we have not a suffi¬
cient number of historical facts to know very accurately
the cause. It may be, that internal commotions, and as
frequently a superabounding population, were the source
from which they were derived. When, of two contend¬
ing parties, one acquired the ascendency, they frequently
made the situation of their opponents so painful to them,
and sometimes also the shame ot defeat was so great, that
the vanquished party chose rather to live anywhere than
be subject to the power and contempt of those over whom
they had hoped to domineer. The leaders proposed emi¬
gration ; and a great part of those who contended under
their banners, were ready to depart along with them. In
this way they might remove in large bodies, and, carrying
^■y
COLONY.
113
(Vjw. with them all their moveable effects, would be in circum-
stances, when they established themselves on a fertile soil,
to attain, in a little time, a great degree of prosperity. All
this seems necessary to account for the flourishing state
of the Greeks in Asia Minor, among whom arts and sci¬
ences flourished sooner, and civilization made still more
rapid strides, till checked by Persian domination, than in
the mother country itself, where a more dense population
and a less fertile soil opposed obstructions to the happiness
of the people and the progress of the human mind.
There is nothing in modern times which so much re¬
sembles the colonization of Asia Minor by the Greeks, as
the colonization of North America by the English. Of the
first English planters of North America, a large propor¬
tion went out to escape the oppression of a predominat¬
ing religion, as the Greeks did to escape the oppression
of a predominating political party. One difference there
was—that the English did not go off at once in any con¬
siderable bodies, under distinguished leaders, or with any
great accompaniment of capital, the means of future pro¬
sperity. Accordingly, the prosperity of the British colo¬
nies in North America was much less rapid and much less
brilliant than that of the Grecian colonies in Asia Minor.
Another great difference there was, in that the English
colonies, though they made a sort of subordinate govern¬
ment for themselves, were still held to be subject to the
government of the mother country. The Grecian colonies
became states, in all respects independent, owning no go¬
vernment but that which they established for themselves;
though they still looked to the mother country for protec¬
tion and assistance, and held themselves under a very
strong obligation to befriend and assist her in all her dif¬
ficulties.
In regard to those detachments of the population of the
Grecian states, which resulted either from political dis¬
gust or political oppression, there is nothing which stands
in need of explanation. The motive which gave rise to
them is familiar and obvious; and the sort of relation in
which they and the mother country stood to one another,
importing mutual benevolence, but no right in the one to
command, or obligation on the other to obey, every body
can immediately understand.
There were other occasions, however, on which the
Greeks sent out colonies ; and these are the colonies which
are commonly meant, when the Grecian principle of colo¬
nization is spoken of by way of distinction. These were
resorted to when the population of the mother country
became superabundant, and relief was demanded by a di¬
minution of numbers. This is a ground of colonization,
which, since the principle of population has been shown to
exert so great an influence upon the condition of human
beings, deserves profound regard. We shall not, there-
| fore, pass it by without a few observations.
A population is said to be redundant: when is it so?
Not when it is numerically either great or small, but sole¬
ly and exclusively when it is too great for the quantity
of food. Any one country produces or procures a certain
quantity of food in the year. If it has a population greater
than such a quantity of food is sufficient to maintain, all
that number which is over and above what it is capable of
maintaining, is a redundancy of population.
A curious phenomenon here presents itself. A redun¬
dancy of population in the states of ancient Greece made
itself visible even to vulgar eyes. A redundancy of popu¬
lation in modern Europe never makes itself visible to any
but the most enlightened eyes. Ask an ordinary man,
ask almost any man, if the population of his country is
too great; if the population of any country in Europe is,
or ever was, too great. So far, he will tell you, is it from
being too great, that good nolicy would consist in making
VOL. VII.
it, it possible, still greater; arid he might quote, in his
own support, the authority of almost all governments,
which are commonly at pains to prevent the emigration of
their people, and to give encouragement to marriage.
rIhe explanation of the phenomena is easy; but it is
also of the highest importance. When the supply of food
is too small for the population, the deficiency operates, in
modern Europe, in a manner different from that in which
it operated in ancient Greece. In modern Europe the
greatest portion of the food is bought by the great body
of the people. What the great body of the people have to
give for it, is nothing but labour. When the quantity of
food is not sufficient for all, and when some are in danger
of not getting any, each man is induced, in order to secure
a portion to himself, to give better terms for it than any
other men, that is, more labour. In other words, that
part of the population who have nothing to give for food
but labour, take less wages. This is the primary effect,
clear, immediate, certain. It is only requisite farther to
trace the secondary or derivative effects.
When we say, that in the case in which the supply of
food has become too small for the population, the great
body of the people take less wages, that is, less food, for
their labour, we mean that they take less than is neces¬
sary for comfortable subsistence ; because they would
only have what is necessary for comfortable subsistence
in the case in which the supply of food is not too small for
the whole.
The effect, then, of a disproportion between the food
and the population, is not to feed to the full measure that
portion of the population which it is sufficient to feed, and
to leave the redundant portion destitute; is to take, ac¬
cording to a certain rate, a portion of his due quantity
from each individual of that great class who have nothing
to give for it but ordinary labour.
What this state of things imports is most easily seen.
The great class who have nothing to give for food but or¬
dinary labour, are the great body of the people. When
every individual in the great body of the people has less
than the due quantity of food, less than would fall to his
share if the quantity of food were not too small for the
population, the state of the great body of the people is the
statp of sordid, painful, and degrading poverty. They are
wretchedly fed, wretchedly clothed, have wretched houses,
and neither time nor means to keep either their houses or
their persons free from disgusting impurity. Those of
them who, either from bodily infirmities, have less than
the ordinary quantity of labour to bestow, or, from the
state of their families, need a greater than the ordinary
quantity of food, are condemned to starve ; either wholly,
if they have not enough to keep them alive, or partially,
if they have enough to yield them a lingering, dileased,
and, after all, a shortened existence.
What the ignorant and vulgar spectator sees in all this
is not a redundant population, it is only a poor population.
He sees nobody without food who has enough to give for
it. To his eye, therefore, it is not food which is wanting,
but that which is to be given for it. When events suc¬
ceed in this train, and are viewed with these eyes, there
never can appear to be a redundancy of population.
Events succeeded in a different train in the states of
ancient Greece, and rendered a redundancy of population
somewhat more visible, even to vulgar and ignorant eyes.
In ancient Greece, the greatest portion of the food was
not bought by the great body of the people ; the state of
whom, wretched or comfortable, legislation has never yet
been wise enough much to regard. All manual labour,
or, at least, the far greatest portion of it, was performed,
not by free labourers serving for wages, but by slaves,
who were the property of the great men. The deficiency
p
Colony.
COLONY.
of food, therefore, was not distributed in the shape of ge-
neral poverty and wretchedness over the great body ot
the population, by reduction of wages; a case which al-
fects with very slight sensations, those who regard them¬
selves as in no degree liable to fall into that miserable si¬
tuation. It was felt, first of all, by the great men, in the
greater cost of maintaining their slaves. And what is telt
as disagreeable by the great men, is sure never to continue
long without an effort, either wise or foolish, for the re¬
moval of it. This law of human nature was not less faith¬
fully observed in the states of ancient Greece, tor their
being called republics. Called republics, they m reality
were aristocracies ; and aristocracies of a very bad descrip¬
tion They were aristocracies in which the people weie
cheated with an idea of power, merely because they were
able, at certain distant intervals, when violently excited,
to overpower the aristocracy in some one particular point,
but they were aristocracies in which there was not one
efficient security to prevent the interests of the many fio
being sacrificed to the interests of the few ; they were aris¬
tocracies, accordingly, in which the interests of the many
were habitually sacrificed to the interests of the few
meaning by the many, not the slaves merely, but the great
body of theyfree citizens. This was the case in all the states
of Greece, and not least in Athens. This is not seen in
reading the French and English histories of Greece. It is
not seen in reading Mitford, who has written a History oj
Greece for no other purpose but that of showing that the
interests of the many always ought to be sacrificed to the
interests of the few ; and of abusing the people of Greece,
because every now and then the many in those coun¬
tries showed that they were by no means patient under
the habitual sacrifice of their interests to those of the
few. But it is very distinctly seen, among other occa¬
sions, in reading the Greek orators, in reading Demos¬
thenes for example, in reading the oration against Ahdias,
the oration on Leptines, and others, in which the license
of the rich and powerful, and their means of oppressing
the body of the people, are shown to have been excessive,
and to have been exercised with a shameless atrocity,
which the gentleness and modesty of the manners of mo¬
dern Europe, even in the most aristocratically despotic
countries, wholly preclude. ^
In Greece, then, any thing which so intimately affect¬
ed the great men, as! the growing cost of maintaining then-
slaves, would not long remain without serious attempts
to find a remedy. . . ,
It was not, however, in this way alone that a redundant
population showed itself in Greece. As not many of the
free citizens maintained themselves by manual labour,
they had but two resources more, the land, and profits of
stock. Those who lived on profits of stock, did so com¬
monly by employing slaves in some of the known arts and
manufactures, and of course were affected by the growing
cost of maintaining their slaves. Those who lived on the
produce of a certain portion of the land, could not but
exhibit very distinctly the redundancy of their numbers,
when, by the multiplication of families, portions came to
be so fin- subdivided, that what belonged to each indivi¬
dual was insufficient for his maintenance.
In this manner, then, it is very distinctly seen, why, to
vuffiar eyes, there never appears, in modern Europe, to
be any redundancy of population, any demand for reliev¬
ing the country by carrying away a portion ot the people ;
and why, in ancient Greece, that redundancy made itself
be very sensibly perceived ; and created, at various times,
a perfectly efficient demand for removing to distant places
a considerable portion ot the people.
But what if that redundancy of population which shows
itself in modern Europe, in the effects of reduced wages,
Coltj
W
and a poor and starving people, should suggest to rulers
the policy of ancient Greece, and some time or other re-
commend colonization ? A few reflections may be well be¬
stowed upon a supposition of this kind. _ , t ,
In the first place, it should be very distinctly understood
what it is we mean when we say, in regard to such a coun¬
try as Great Britain, for example, that the supply of food
is too small for the population ; because it may be said im¬
mediately, that the quantity of food may be increased m
Great Britain, a proposition which no man will think ot
denying. ' . , ■ c
Let us suppose that, in any given year, this yeai for ex¬
ample, the food in Great Britain is too small for the peo¬
ple by 10,000 individuals. It is no doubt true, that addi¬
tional food sufficient to supply 10,000 individuals might be
raised next year ; but where would be the amelioration, it
10 000 individuals were at the same time added to the
numbers to be fed? Now, the tendency of population is
such as to make, in almost all cases, the real state of the
facts correspond with this supposition. Population not
only rises to the level of the present supply of food; but,
if you go on every year increasing the quantity of food,
population goes on increasing at the same time, and so
fast, that the food is commonly still too small for the peo¬
ple. This is the grand proposition of Mr Malthus’s book;
it is not only quite original, but it is that point ot the sub¬
ject from which all the more important consequences flow;
consequences which, till that point was made known, could
not be understood.
When we say that the quantity of food in any country
is too small for the quantity of the people, and that, though
we may increase the quantity of food, the population will
at the same time increase so fast that the food will still
be too small for the people ; we may be encountered with
another proposition. It may be said, that we may increase
food still faster than it is possible to increase population.
And there are situations in which we must allow that the
proposition is true. . ,
In countries newly inhabited, or in which there is a
small number of people, there is commonly a quantity of
land, yielding a large produce for a given portion of la¬
bour. So long as the land continues to yield in this liberal
manner, how fast soever population increases, food may in¬
crease with equal rapidity, and plenty remain. When po¬
pulation, however, has increased to a certain extent, all
the best land is occupied ; if it increases any farther, land
of a worse quality must be taken in hand; when land of
the next best quality is all exhausted, land ot a still in¬
ferior quality must be employed, till at last you come to
that which is exceedingly barren. In this progress it is
very evident that it is always gradually becoming more
and more difficult to make food increase with any given
degree of rapidity, and that you must come at last to a
pomt where it is altogether impossible. _ _
It may, however, be said, and has been said in substance,
though not very clearly, by some of Mr Malthus’s oppo¬
nents, that it is improper to speak of food as too small for
the population, so long as food can be made to_ increase at
an equal rate with population; and though it is no uoubt
true that, in the states of modern Europe, food does not
actually increase so fast as the population, and hence the
poverty and wretchedness of the people; yet it would be
very possible to make food increase as fast as population,
and hence to make the people happy without diminishing
their numbers by colonization ; and it is owing to unfavour¬
able, or to ill-contrived institutions, that such is not the
effect universally experienced. . .
As this observation has in it a remarkable combination
of truth and error, it is worthy of a little pains to make the
separation.
COLONY.
115
There can be no doubt that, by employing next year a
greater proportion of the people upon the land than this
year, we should raise a greater quantity of food; by em¬
ploying a still greater proportion the year following, we
should produce a still greater quantity of food; and, in
this way, it would be possible to go on for some time, in¬
creasing food as fast as it would be possible for the popu¬
lation to increase. But observe at what cost this effect
would be attained. As the land yields gradually less and
less to every new portion of labour, it would be necessary
to employ, gradually, not only a greater and greater num¬
ber, but a greater and greater proportion of the people in
raising food. But the greater the proportion of the people
which is employed in raising food, the smaller is the pro¬
portion which can be employed in producing any thing
else. You can only, therefore, increase the quantity of
food, to meet the demand of an increasing population, by
diminishing the supply of those other things which mini¬
ster to human desires.
There can be no doubt that, by increasing every year
the proportion of the population which you employ in
raising food, and diminishing every year the proportion
employed in every thing else, you may go on increasing
food as fast as population increases, till the labour of a
man upon the land is just sufficient to add as much to the
produce as will maintain himself and raise a family. Sup¬
pose, where the principle of population is free frpm all re¬
striction, the average number of children reared in a fa¬
mily is five; in that case, so long as the man’s labour,
added to the labour already employed upon the land, can
produce food sufficient for himself and the rearing of five
children, food maybe made to keep pace with population.
But if things were made to go on in such an order till
they arrived at that pass, men would have food, but they
would have nothing else. They wmuld have neither clothes,
nor houses, nor furniture. There would be nothing for
elegance, nothing for ease, nothing for pleasure. There
would be no class exempt from the necessity of perpetual
labour, by whom knowledge might be cultivated, and dis¬
coveries useful to mankind might be made. There would
be no physicians, no legislators. The human race would
become a mere multitude of animals, of a very low de¬
scription, having just two functions, that of raising food,
and that of consuming it.
To shorten this analysis, let us then assume what will
hardly be disputed, that it is by no means desirable for
human nature to be brought into a situation in which it
would be necessary for every human being to be employ¬
ed, and fully employed, in the raising of food; that it
never can be desirable that moi’e than a certain proportion
should be employed in the raising of food ; that it must
for ever be desirable that a certain proportion should be
employed in producing other things which minister to hu¬
man desires; and that there should be a. class possessed
of leisure, among whom the desire of knowledge may be
fostered, and those individuals reared who are qualified to
advance the boundaries of knowledge, and add to the
powers and enjoyments of man.
It is useless, then, to tell us that we have the physical
power ol increasing food as fast as population. As soon as
we have arrived at that point at which the due distribu¬
tion of the population is made between those who raise
food and those who are in other ways employed in con¬
tributing to the well-being of the members of the commu¬
nity, any increase of the food faster than is consistent
w'ith that distribution can only be made at the expense
of those other things, by the enjoyment of which the life
of man is preferable to that of the brutes. At this point
the progress of population ought undoubtedly to be re¬
strained. Population may still increase, because the quan¬
tity of food may still be capable of being increased, though
not beyond a certain slowness of rate, without requiring to
the production of it a greater than the due proportion of
the population.
Suppose, then, when the due proportion of the popula¬
tion is allotted to the raising of food, and the due propor¬
tion to other desirable occupations, that the institutions
of society were such as to prevent a greater proportion
from being withdrawn from those occupations to the rais¬
ing of food. It would, surely, be very desirable that the
institutions of society should secure this important object.
If population, in that case, should go on at its full rate of
increase, or, in other words, faster than with such a distri¬
bution of the population it would be possible for food to
be increased, what would be the consequences ? The an¬
swer is abundantly plain. All those effects would take
place which have already been described as following upon
the existence of a redundant population in modern Eu¬
rope, and in all countries in which the great body of those
wdio have nothing to give for food but labour, are free
labourers. Wages would fall; poverty would overspread
the population; and all those horrid phenomena would
exhibit themselves which are the never-failing attendants
on a poor population.
It is of no great importance though the institutions of
society may be such as to make the proportion of the po¬
pulation kept back from the providing of food rather
greater than it might be. All that happens is, that the
redundancy of population begins a little earlier. The un¬
restrained progress of population would soon have added
the deficient number to the proportion employed in the
raising of food; and, at whatever point the redundancy
begins, the effects are always the same.
W hat are the best means of checking the progress of
population, when it cannot go on unrestrained, without
producing one or other of two most undesirable effects,
either drawing an undue proportion of the population to
the mere raising of food, or producing poverty and wretch¬
edness, it is not now the time to inquire. It is, indeed,
the most important practical problem to which the wis¬
dom of the politician and moralist can be applied. It has,
till this time, been miserably evaded by all those who
have meddled with the subject, as well as by all those
who were called upon by their situation to find a remedy
for the evils to which it'relates. And yet, if the super¬
stitions of the nursery w^ere discarded, and the principle
of utility kept steadily in view, a solution might not be
very difficult to be found; and the means of drying up
one of the most copious sources of human evil, a source
which, if all other sources of evil were taken away, would
alone suffice to retain the great mass of human beings in
misery, might be seen to be neither doubtful nor difficult
to be applied.
The only question to which wre are here required to find
an answer, is that of colonization. When the population
of a country is full, and its increase cannot go on at its
most rapid pace, without producing one of the two evils of
redundancy, a portion of the people, sent off to another
country, may create a void ; and till this is filled up, popu¬
lation may advance as rapidly as before, and so on for any
number of times.
In certain circumstances, this is a better resource than
any scheme for diminishing the rate of population. So
long as the earth is not peopled to that state of fulness
which is most conducive to human happiness, it contri¬
butes to that important effect. It is highly desirable, on
many accounts, that every portion of the earth, the phy¬
sical circumstances of which are not inconsistent with hu¬
man well-being, should be inhabited, as fully as the con¬
ditions of human happiness admit. It is only in certain
Colony.
116
COLONY.
Colony- circumstances, however, that a body of people can be ad-
vantageously removed from one country for the purpose
of colonizing another. In the first place, it is necessary
that the land which they are about to occupy should be
capable of yielding a greater return to their labour than
the land which they leave; otherwise, though reiict is
given to the population they leave behind, their own cir¬
cumstances are not better than they would have been had
they remained.
Another condition is, that the expense of removal fiom
the mother country to the colonized country should not
be too great; and that expense is usually created by dis¬
tance.
If the expense is too great, the population which re¬
mains behind in the mother country may suffer more by
the loss of capital than it gains by the diminution ot num-
beit*has been often enough, and clearly enough, explained,
that it is only capital which gives employment to labom ;
we may, therefore, take it as a postulate. A certain quan¬
tity of capital, then, is necessary to give employment to
the population which any removal for the sake of colo¬
nization may leave behind. But if, to afford the expense
of that removal, so much is taken from the capital of Lie
country that the remainder is not sufficient for the em¬
ployment of the remaining population, there is, in that
case, a redundancy of population, and all the evils which
it brings. For the well-being of the remaining population,
a certain quantity of food is required, and a certain quan¬
tity of all those other things which minister to human hap¬
piness. But to raise this quantity of food, and this quantity
of other things, a certain quantity of capital is indispensa¬
bly necessary. If that quantity of capital is not supplied,
the food and other things cannot be obtained.
On the subject of that class of colonies, in the concep¬
tion of which the idea of the people is the predominating
idea, we have now explained the principle which is exem¬
plified in the Roman, and that which is exemplified in the
Grecian cases; belonging to the same class there are Bri¬
tish colonies, in which another and a very remarkable
principle is exemplified. The Greeks planted coionies for
the sake of getting rid of a redundant population ; the
British, for the sake of getting rid of a delinquent popula¬
tion. _ .
3. The brilliant idea of a colony for the sake ot getting
rid of a delinquent population, if not peculiar to English
policy, is, at any rate, a much more remarkable part of the
policy of England than of that of any other country. We
have not time here to trace the history of this singular
portion of English policy; nor is it of much importance.
Every body knows, that this mode of disposing of delin¬
quents was carried to a considerable height before this
country lost her dominion over the North American colo¬
nies, to which she annually transported a considerable
number of convicts. It will suffice, for the present occa¬
sion, to offer a few observations on the natuie ot such an
establishment as that of New South Wales.
Considered in the light of its utility as a territory, the co¬
lony of New South Wales will be included in the investi¬
gation of that class of colonies, in the conception ot which
the idea of territory is the predominating idea. At present
it is to be considered in its capacity of a place for re¬
ceiving the delinquent part ot the Biitish population.
In dealing with a delinquent population, the end to be
aimed at, the security of the non-delinquent, embraces
two particulars; security from the crimes ot this or that
individual delinquent himself, and security from those of
other men who may be tempted to follow his example.
The first object is comparatively easy. It is not diffi¬
cult to prevent an individual trom doing any mischief.
What is chiefly desirable is, that the individual who is CoU|
proved to be a delinquent, should be so dealt with, that the ''■^w
mode of dealing with him may be as effectual as possible
in deterring others from the commission of similar offences.
In pursuit of the first object, securing society from the
crimes of the convicted individual, there is a good mode
and a bad mode. The best of all modes, unquestionably,
is the reformation of the oftender. Wherever this can be
accomplished, every other mode, it is evident, is a bad
Now, in regard to the reformation of the offender,
there is but one testimony, that New South Wales, oj all
places on the face of the earth, except, perhaps, a British
prison, is the place where there is the least chance for the
reformation of an offender, the greatest chance of his being
improved and perfected in every species of w ickedness.
If it be said, that taking a man to Newr South Wales at
any rate affords to the British community security against
the crimes of that man, we may answer, that putting him
to death would do so. And we further pronounce, that
saving a man from death, with the mind of a delinquent,
and sending him to New South Wales, to all the effects
of his vicious propensities, is seldom doing even him any
good.
It is, however, not true that sending a delinquent to
New South Wrales secures the British community from
his future offences. A very great proportion of those who
are sent to New South WTales find the means of returning;
and those who do so are in general, and may abvays be
expected to be, the very worst.
We have a high authority for this affirmation. The
committee of the House of Commons, who were appointed
in the session of 1812 “ to inquire into the manner in
which sentences of transportation are executed, and the
effects which have been produced by that mode ot punish¬
ment,” stated solemnly in their report, that “ no difficul¬
ty appears to exist among the major part of the men who
do not wish to remain in the colony, of finding means to
return to this country. All but the aged and infirm^easi-
ly find employment on board the ships visiting New South
Wales, and are allowed to work their passage home. But
such facility is not afforded to the women, fhey have no
possible method of leaving the colony, but by prostituting
themselves on board the ships whose masters may choose
to receive them. They wTho are sent to New South \\ ales,
that their former habits may be relinquished, cannot ob¬
tain a return to this country, but by relapsing into that
mode of life which, with many, has been the cause of all
their crimes and misfortunes. To those who shrink from
these means, or are unable, even thus, to obtain a passage
for themselves, transportation for seven years is converted
into a banishment for life ; and the just and humane pro¬
visions of the law, by which different periods of transpor¬
tation are apportioned to different degrees of crime, are
rendered entirely null.”
So much, then, with regard to the reformation of the
individual, and security from his crimes, neithei of which
is attained, But, even on the supposition that both were
ever so completely attained, there would still be a ques¬
tion of great importance, namely, whether the same effects
could not be attained at a smaller expense ? It never
ought to be forgotten that society is injured by every
particle of unnecessary expense ; that one of the most re¬
markable of all the points of bad government is that of
rendering the services of government at a greater than
the smallest possible expense ; and that one ot the most
remarkable of all the points of good government is that ot
rendering every service which it is called upon to rendei,
at the smallest possible expense.
In this respect, also, the policy of the New South Wales
establishment is faulty beyond all endurance. The cost
COLONY.
117
Co| w. of disposing in this way of a delinquent population is pro-
digious. We have no room for details, and there is no
occasion for proof; the fact is notorious ; whereas, on the
contrary, it is now well known that, in houses of industry
and reformation upon the best possible plan, that, for ex¬
ample of Mr Bentham’s Panopticon, which has no parallel,
there is little or no expense, there is perfect security
against the future crimes of the delinquent, and that to a
great degree, by the best of all possible modes, his refor¬
mation.
If the mode of dealing with a delinquent according to
such an institution as that of New South Wales is thus
wretched, as far as regards the securing of the communi¬
ty from the future crimes of the convicted delinquent, it
is not less so in what regards the deterring of all other
men from following similar courses to those of the delin¬
quent.
It is very evident that this last is by far the most im¬
portant of the two objects. It is now agreed that this is
the end, the only good end, of all punishment properly so
called; for mere safe custody and satisfaction to the in¬
jured party are not, in the proper sense of the word, pu¬
nishments ; they are for other ends than punishment, in
any point of view in which it is ever contemplated.
The great importance of this above the previous case
consists in this, that when you take security against the
crimes of the convicted delinquent, you take security
against the crimes of only one man, and that a man in
your hands, with whom you can deal as you please. When,
by means of the mode of dealing with him, you deter all
other men from following similar courses, you provide se¬
curity, not against one man alone, but many men, any
number of men, of men undetected, and not in your
power, each of whom may be guilty of many crimes be¬
fore he can be stopped.
On this point it is only necessary, for form’s sake, to
write down what is the fact; for every human being of
common reflection must anticipate the observation before
it is made. If an assembly of ingenious men, in the cha¬
racter of legislators, had taken pains to devise a method of
dealing with delinquents, which, while it had some appear¬
ance of securing society from the crimes of the detected
individual, should be, to the greatest possible degree, de¬
void both of the reality and even the appearance of any
efficacy of deterring other men from the pursuit of similar
courses, they could not have devised any thing better cal¬
culated for that preposterous end than the colony of New
South Wales. Nothing can operate where it is not. The
men to be operated upon are in England; the example
which should operate is in New South Wales. Much
more might be said, but it is unnecessary. In the great
majority of cases a voyage to New South Wales has not
even the appearance of a punishment. Men of that de¬
scription have neither friends nor affections. They leave
behind nobody whom they like, and nobody who likes
them. What is it to such men that they are for a while
or for ever taken away from England, along very fre¬
quently with the only sort of persons with whom they
have any connection, the companions of their debauche¬
ries and of their crimes ?
Sect. II.— Of Colonies, in the conception of which the idea
of Territory is the predominating idea.
Of this sort are most of the colonies of the states of
modern Europe; the British possessions, for example, in
the East and West Indies.
The question is, in what wray or ways, abstracting from
t ie questions of population, an outlying territory, consi-
ered merely as territory, is calculated to become advanta¬
geous; or, in other words, what reasons can any country
have for desiring to possess the government of such ter¬
ritories ?
I here are two ways which will easily present them¬
selves to every mind, as ways in which advantage may
accrue to the governing country. First, these outlying
dominions may yield a tribute to the mother country;
secondly, they may yield an advantageous trade.
1. Where Tribute to the Mother Country is the benefit she
proposes.
This will not require many words, as few persons are
much in error on the subject. In regard to the West
Indies, no such idea as that of a tribute has ever been
entertained. Even in regard to those taxes which a vain
and unprofitable attempt was made to impose upon the
formerly existing colonies in North America, they were
never dreamt of as a tribute, and never spoken of but in
a sense contrary to the very idea of a tribute, that of re¬
imbursing to the mother country a part, and no more than
a part, of that which they cost her in governing and de¬
fending them.
W ith regard to the East Indies, w^e believe, there exists
more or less of prejudice. Under the ignorance in which
Englishmen have remained of East India affairs, it floats
in the minds of a great many persons, that, somehow or
other, a tribute, or what is equivalent to a tribute, does
come from the East Indies. Never did an opinion exist
more completely without evidence, contrary to evidence,
evidence notorious, and well known to the persons them¬
selves by whom the belief is entertained. India, instead
of yielding a tribute to England, has never yielded enough
for the expense of its own government. What is the proof?
That its government has always been in debt, and has been
under the necessity of continually augmenting its debt,
till it has arrived at a magnitude which it has often itself
described as alarming.
So far is India from yielding a tribute to Great Britain,
that, in loans ancl aids, and the expense of fleets and ar¬
mies, it has cost this country enormous sums. It is no
doubt true, that some acts of parliament have assumed
the existence of a tribute from India, or what has been
called a surplus revenue, for the use of the nation. But
parliament, we have pretty good experience, cannot make
things by .affirming them. Things are a little more stub¬
born than the credulity of Englishmen. That, in general,
is obedient enough to the affirmations of those who lead
the parliament, and who have sometimes an interest in
leading it wrong. Facts take their own course, without
regard to the affirmations of parliament, or the plastic
faith of those who follow them.
A general proposition on this subject may be safely ad¬
vanced. We may affirm it, as a deduction from the ex¬
perienced laws of human society, that there is, if not an
absolute, at least a moral impossibility, that a colony
should ever benefit the mother country by yielding it a
permanent tribute.
Let any body but consider what is included in the word
government; and when he has done that, let him then tell
himself that the colonies must be governed. If he has
the sufficient degree of knowledge and reflection, no fur¬
ther proof will be necessary.
^No proposition in regard to government is more uni¬
versal, more free from all exception, than this, that a go¬
vernment always spends as much as it finds it possible or
safe to extract from the people. It would not suit the li¬
mits of the present design, to run over the different go¬
vernments of the world for the experimental proof of this
proposition. We must invite every reader to do it for
himself. Of one thing we are perfectly sure, that the
Colony.
COLONY.
more profoundly he is read in history, the more thorough
]v vvill he be convinced of the universality or the tact.
Now then, consider whether this universal fact be not
inconsistent with the idea of a tribute from a colony.
The government of the mother country itselt cannot keep
its expenses within bounds. It takes from the people al
it can possibly take, and is still going beyond its resources.
But if such is the course of government at home, things
must be worse in the colonies. The farther servants are
removed from the eye of the master, the worse, generally
speaking, their conduct will be. The government o the
colonies, managed by delegates from home, is sure to be
worse, in all respects, than the government at home; and,
as expense is one of the shapes in which the badness of
government is most prone to manifest itself, it is s ,
above all things, to be in proportion to its resources more
expensive. Whatever springs operate at home to i estrain
the badness of government, cannot fail to °Pe^e with di¬
minished force at the distance of a colony. I he cone
sion is irresistible. If the government of the mother
country is sure to spend up to the resources of the coun¬
try and if a still stronger necessity operates upon tl e
government of the colony to produce this effect, how can
it possibly afford any tribute? _ .
If it be objected to this conclusion, that this propensity
of governments to spend may be corrected, we answer,
that this is not the present question. Take governments
as, with hardly any exception, they have always been
Fthis is a pretty wide experience], and the effect is cer¬
tain. There is one way, to be sure, of preventing tie
great evil, and preventing it thoroughly ; but there is only
one In the constitution of the government, make the in¬
terest of the many to have the ascendency over the inte¬
rest of the few, and the expense of government will not
be large. The services expected from government may,
generally speaking, be all rendered in the best possible
manner, at very little expense. Whenever the interests
of the many are made, in the framing of governments, to
have the ascendency over the interests of the few, the
services of government will always be rendered at e
smallest possible expense. So long as the interests of the
few are made to have the ascendency over the interests
of the many, the services of government are all sure to
be rendered at the greatest possible expense. In almost
all governments that have ever yet existed, the interest
of the few has had an ascendency over the interests of
the many. In all, , the expense of government has, ac¬
cordingly, been always as great as, in existing circum¬
stances, the people could be made, or could be made with
safety, to give the means of making it.
One other supposition may be urged in favour of the
tribute. The expense, it may be said, of governing the
received. It is evident that this sort of bargain may sub- Colon,.
sist between any two states whose circumstances it may ^
S1SC ueiwucu a J . . _   *1,„„ or,/! rUno-litPV pniin.
suit, anl is not confined to a mother and daughter coun¬
try.5 It is, therefore, no part of the question i elating to
colonies.
2. Where Profits of Trade are the advantage sought by the
Mother Country.
We have now investigated the first of the modes in
which a colony, considered as territory merely, may be
expected to benefit the mother couritry; and we have
seen the chances of good which it affords. The second
of these modes, namely, the trade, by means of which it is
supposed that colonies may benefit the mother country, is
atopic of some importance; for it is on account of the
trade that colonies have remained an object of affection
to Englishmen. It is on account of trade solely that the
colonies in the West Indies are valued; and though an
idea of something like a tribute from the East Indies has
till this time maintained a place in the minds of the un¬
thinking part of the community, still it is the trade which
has been supposed to be the principal source of the ad¬
vantage which has been ascribed to what we call the
British empire in the East. r .
In the idea of deriving a peculiar advantage from the
trade of the colonies, is necessarily included the idea of
monopoly. If the trade of the colony were free, other na¬
tions would derive as much advantage from it as the mo¬
ther country; and the mother country would derive as
much advantage from it if the colony were not a colony.
Dr Smith affirms that this monopoly can never be of
any advantage—must always, on the contrary, be a source
of great disadvantage to the mother country.
If the trade of the colony is left open to, all the mer¬
chants of the mother country, it will no doubt, happen
that the competition of these merchants, one with ano¬
ther, will make them sell as cheap in the colony as they
can afford to sell, that is, buy as dear as they can afford
to buy. The produce of the colony will, m that case, go
as cheap to the foreign as to the home consumer.
There is another case, namely, that in which the traue
of the colony is placed in the hands of an exclusive com¬
pany. In that case it is true that the mother country
may obtain a great quantity of the goods of the colony
for a less quantity of her own than otherwise she would
do. The goods of the mother country are in that case
placed, with regard to the goods of the colony, in the si¬
tuation in which those commodities which can only be
produced in a limited quantity, particular wines, for ex¬
ample, which can only be produced on one particular spot,
are placed with regard to all the rest of the goods in the
world. It is evident that any quantity of the rest of the
tribute. The expense, it may be salt, g g js‘ ;n t|ie wor\(\ may be given for those wines, if people
colony by a deputation from the mother country may g^ desirou^ t0 possess them; that there is no
escaped by allowing the colony to govern . .. . . j t ti,at quantity, but the unwillingness of
case the colony will not choose to Pj a tribute If the in short, to Uiat t^ ^ y^ ^ pos.
^.TlTmoth^y^it by force, the s.s, SdTof
S'Te d/of government is ins’nted.
If it be urged that the colony may continue to pay a tn- I he exclusive company, oy nmiung^ 4 _ J
bute to the mother country, and that voluntarily, because
the mother country may be of use to it; that, we may an¬
swer, is a bargain, not a tribute. The mother country,
for example, may yield a certain portion of defence. But
the colony is saved from the expense of providing for it¬
self that defence which it receives from the mother coun¬
try, and makes a good bargain if it gets it from the mo¬
ther country cheaper than it could be provided by itse .
In this case, too, the expense incurred by the mother
country is apt to be a very full equivalent for the tribute
goods of the mother country which they chose to send to
the colony, might compel the colonists to give for that
limited quantity any quantity of the produce of their own
land and labour which their desire to obtain the goods
of the mother country would admit. If the goods of the
mother country were goods which excited a very strong
desire, if they were goods of the first necessity, the ne¬
cessary materials of food or the instruments of theii in
dustry, there would be no limit but one to the greatness
of the quantity of their own produce, which they might
COLONY.
119
w/-. be compelled to pay for a given quantity of the produce
of the mother country. When nothing was left to the
colony of the whole produce of its labour, but just enough
to keep the labourers alive, it could not go any farther.
Up to that point, if dependent for articles of the first ne¬
cessity, it might, by an exclusive company, undoubtedly
be stript.
Even where the monopoly is not confined to an exclu¬
sive company, but extended to all the merchants of the
mother country, she might still, in one supposable case,
draw an ordinary advantage from the trade of the colony.
The facts would be these. Whatever foreign goods the
colony bought, she would still be obliged to purchase from
the mother country. No doubt, the competition of the
merchants of the mother country would, in this case, com¬
pel them to sell as cheap to the colony as to any other
country. Wherein, then, would consist the advantage ?
In this, that England might thus sell in the colony, with
the usual profits of stock, certain kinds of goods, which
not being able to manufacture so cheaply as some other
countries, she would cease to manufacture, except for the
monopoly. But still a very natural question arises : What
advantage does she derive from forcing this manufacture,
since she makes by it no more than the ordinary profits of
stock, and might make the ordinary profits of stock by the
same capital in some other employment ? The answer is,
that she might, by this means, obtain a greater quantity of
the goods of the colony by a given quantity of the pro¬
duce of her own labour, or, what comes to the same thing,
an equal quantity of the goods of the colony by a less
quantity of the produce of her own labour, than she could
in a case of freedom.
It may be seen to be so in this manner. England de¬
sires to purchase, say 10,000 hogsheads of sugar. This is
her consumption. For this she will give, of the produce
of her own labour, whatever quantity it is necessary to
give. She wishes, however, to give as little as possible ;
and the question is, in what way she may give the least.
The sugar is worth, say L.500,000. England sends goods to
the colony which sell for L.500,000. Now, apply the sup¬
position introduced above. Suppose that, if trade were
free, these goods from England, which the manufacturers
and merchants of England cannot afford to sell for less
than L.500,000, could be had for L.400,000 from some
other country. In that case it is evident, that the same
quantity of these same goods with which England, under
the monopoly, purchased 10,000 hogsheads of sugar, would
now purchase only 8000; for that is the ratio of the
L.400,000 to the L.500,000. What then would happen,
supposing England still to resolve upon having 10,000
hogsheads of sugar ? One of two things must of necessity
happen. Either she will purchase the sugar with the
same goods, or she will not. If she purchase it with the
same goods, it is evident that she must give a greater
quantity of goods; she must give one fifth more of the
produce of her labour ; one fifth more of her industrious
people must be withdrawn from administering to other
productions, and employed in enabling her to obtain the
same quantity of sugar. This quantity of produce, in
that case, the mother country saves by means of the mo¬
nopolized trade of the colony; this quantity she loses by
losing such a colony. But undoubtedly the mother coun¬
try would, in such a case, endeavour to purchase the sugar,
not with such goods as she purchased it with before,
but with other goods. She would endeavour to purchase
it with goods which she could manufacture as cheaply as
any other country; but supposing the colony had no de¬
mand for any goods which the mother country could af¬
ford as cheap as any other country, even in that case the
mother country would still have a resource. If there was
any country in which she could sell such goods for money, Colony,
she could purchase the same quantity of sugar for the same y"^''
quantity of the produce of her own labour as before.
It is not then true, according to Dr Smith, that in no
case can the mother country derive any peculiar advan¬
tage in the way of trade, from the possession of colonies.
We see that there are two cases in which she may derive
an advantage in that way. It remains to inquire what
that advantage is ultimately worth ; not only what it is in
itself independently, but what it is, after compensation is
made for all the disadvantages with which the attainment
of it is naturally attended.
We are first to inquire what is the value of that advan¬
tage, all deductions made, which the mother country may
derive, through an exclusive company, from the trade of
a colony ?
It is very evident, in the first place, that whatever the mo¬
ther country gains the colony loses. Now, if the colony
were part of the dominions of a foreign state, there is a cer¬
tain way of viewing such questions, in which that result
would appear to be perfectly desirable ; but, suppose that
the colony, which is the fact, is not part of the dominions of
a foreign state, but of the same state; that it is, in truth,
not part of a different country, but of the same country;
its subjects not part of a different community, but of the
same community; its poverty or riches not the poverty
or riches of another country, but of the same country.
How is the result to be viewed in that case ? Is it not
exactly the same sort of policy as if Yorkshire were to be
drained and oppressed for the benefit of Middlesex ?
What difference does it make, that one of the portions of
the same empire is somewhat farther off than another ?
Would it, for that reason, be more rational to pillage Caith¬
ness than to pillage Yorkshire for the sake of Middlesex ?
Does the wealth of a state consist in the wealth of one
part, effected by the misery of another ? What opinion
must we form of such a rule for guiding the policy of
state ? Assuredly7 this would be a contrivance not for in¬
creasing her wealth and happiness upon the whole: it
would be a contrivance for diminishing it. In the first
place, when, from one or two parties, equally provided
with the means of enjoyment, you take a portion to give
it to the other, the fact is,—a fact too well established,
and too consonant with the experience of every man, to
need illustration here,—that you do not add to the hap¬
piness of the one so much as you take from the happiness
of the other, and that you diminish the sum of the happi¬
ness of the two taken together. This in truth is the foun¬
dation upon which the laws for the protection of property
rest. As the happiness of one man is, or ought to be, of
no more value to the state than the happiness of another
man, if the man who takes from another man a part of his
property, added to his own happiness as much as he took
from the happiness of the other, there would be no loss of
happiness upon the whole, and the state would have no
ground in utility on which to interfere.
But this is not all. Not only is the quantity of hap¬
piness diminished upon the whole, but by that opera¬
tion which gives the mother country an advantage by
the trade of the colony, the quantity of produce of the
community is diminished upon the whole. The subjects
of the state, taken as a whole, not only enjoy less than
they would otherwise enjoy, but they produce less than
they would otherwise produce. The state is not a richer
state; it is, on the contrary, a poorer state, by means of
such a colonial policy.
By means of such a policy, a portion of the capital of
the state is employed in a channel in which it is less pro¬
ductive than it would have been in the channel into which
it would have gone of its own accord. It is a point esta-
COL
Wished in the science of political economy, that it is not
good policy to confine consumption to any sort ot home
manufacture, when it can be purchased more cheaply
abroad. It is upon this ground that we have laughed at
the late and present outcries of the Germans, because
the English sell their goods cheaper than they can make
them. The reason is, because when a country continues
to consume an article made at home, which it could get
cheaper from another country, it does neither more nor
less than insist that it shall employ a certain number of
men’s labour in providing it with that article, more than
it would be necessary to employ if it imported the article;
and, of course, it loses completely the benefit of these men s
labour, who would otherwise be employed in producing
for it something else. The country is, therefore, the poorer
by the whole value of these men’s labour. The case is
exactly the same where the colonies are confined to the
manufactures of the mother country. When the colony
is obliged to employ, for the purpose of obtaining a cer¬
tain quantity of goods from the mother country, the laboui
of a greater number of men than she would be obliged to
employ to get the same quantity of goods from another
country, she loses the labour ot all that additional num¬
ber of men. At the same time the mother country does
not gain it; for if the mother country did not manufac¬
ture for the colony, her capital would be liberated to
another employment, and would yield the same profits in
that as it did in the former employment.
We have still, however, to examine that extraordinary
case which we before supposed, in which the mother
country cannot produce any sort of commodity whatso¬
ever as cheap as other countries, and, if tiade were hce,
of course would sell nothing in a foreign market. The
case here is somewhat altered. In liberating the colony
from the monopoly of the mother country, there would be
no change of capital from a less to a more productive em¬
ployment ; because, by the supposition, the mother coun¬
try has not a more productive employment to which her
liberated capital can be sent. Events would succeed in
the following order: The colony would obtain the goods
which it demanded, with a smaller portion of its own la¬
bour, and would hence be more amply supplied with goods.
But it is not supposed that this event would give to its
industry a more beneficial direction. In the case of a su¬
gar colony, at any rate, its industry would remain in the
same channels as before. Such would be the effects in
regard to the colony. What would they be in regard to the
mother country ? If her capital is no longer employed in
manufacturing for the colony, she can always, indeed,
employ it with the same profit as before. But she still
desires the same quantity of sugar, and her goods will not
go so far as before in the purchase of it. Whatever fail
would be necessary in the price of her goods to bring
them upon a level with the goods of other countries, is
equivalent, as far as she is concerned, to a rise of the same
amount in the price of sugar. In this case the mother
country would lose exactly as much as the colony would
gain. The community, taken as a whole, would be nei¬
ther the richer nor the poorer for driving the things out
of the free into the compulsory channel. The people of
the mother country would be so much the richer, the
people of the colony would be so much the poorer.
This, however, still remains to be said. There is only
one case in which this sort of monopoly would not dimi¬
nish the produce of the community, and render it positive¬
ly poorer upon the whole. There is only that one case,
supposed above, in which the mother country has not one
commodity which she can sell as cheap as other countries.
Now this may fairly be regarded as a case, if not altogether,
at any rate very nearly, impossible. It is not easy to con-
O N Y.
ceive a country so situated, as not to have advantages in Colony,
regard to the production of some sorts of commodities, yv
which set her on a level with other countries. As long as
this is the case, she can obtain money on as good teims
as any other country ; and if she can obtain money on as
<rood terms, she can obtain sugar, and eveiy thing else.
The question, then, as to the benefit capable of being
derived from a colony through the medium of^ an exclu¬
sive trade, is now brought to a short issue. Iheie is no
benefit except through the medium of a monopoly. There
is only one case in which the monopoly does not make the
whole community poorer than it would otherwise be. In
that case, it does not make the community richer than it
would otherwise be ; and that case is one wnich can either
never be realized, or so rarely, as to be one of the rarest
of all exceptions to one of the most constant of all gene¬
ral rules. The policy of holding a colony for the benefit
of its trade, is, therefore, a bad policy. ,
To these conclusions one or two ot the doctrines of Ur
Smith will be seen to be opposed, and, therefore, require
a few words of elucidation.
If an advantage, in the two cases just explained, would
arise from colonies, it would be counterbalanced, he says,
by the disadvantage attending the rise in the profits of
Both parts of this doctrine may be disputed. In the
first place, it may be disputed whether the monopoly of
the colony trade has any tendency to raise the profits ot
stock in the mother country. In the next place, it may
be disputed whether a high rate of profits in any country
has any tendency to lay it under any disadvantage in its
traffic with other nations.
First, it may be disputed whether the monopoly of the
colony trade would increase the profits. The expulsion
of foreign capital would create a vacuum, whence, accord¬
ing to Smith, a rise of profit, and an absorption of capital
from the mother country. The question is, whether capi¬
tal would not flow into the colonies from the mother coun¬
try, till it reduced the profits in the colony to the level
of the profits in the mother country, instead of raising
those in the mother country in any degree toward a level
with those of the colony. That it would do so, appears
to be capable of demonstration. Mr Ricardo’s argument
would be very short. Nothing, he would say, can raise
the profits of stock, but that which lowers the wages of
labour. Nothing can lower the wages of labour, but that
which lowers the necessaries of the labourer. But nobody
will pretend to say that there is any thing in the mono¬
poly of the colony trade which has any tendency to lower
the price of the necessaries of the labourer. It is, there¬
fore, impossible that the monopoly of the colony tiade can
raise the profits of stock. By those who are acquainted
with the prof ound reasonings of Mr Ricardo, in pi oof o
the two premises, this argument will be seen to be com¬
plete. There is not a demonstration in Euclid, in which
the links are more indissoluble. Io those who are not
acquainted with those reasonings, we are aware that the
propositions will appear mysterious ; and yet we are afraid
that, in the few words to which we are confined, it will
not be possible to give them much satisfaction.
With regard to the last of the two propositions, that no¬
thing can lower the wages of labour but that which lowers
the necessaries of the labourer, we may confine ourselves
to that combination of circumstances which marks the ha¬
bitual state, without adverting to the modifications exem¬
plified in those states of circumstances which are to be re¬
garded as exceptions. The habitual state ot population is
such, that wages are at the lowest terras ; and cannot e
reduced lower without checking population, that 4*
cing the number of labourers. In this case, it is selt-evi
COL
\
dent that nothing can lower the wages of labour but
lowering the necessaries of the labourer. In all, then,
except the extraordinary cases, which it would require
too many words here to explain, in which a country is but
partially peopled, and in v/hich part of the best land is
still unemployed, the proposition of Mr Ricardo is indis¬
putable, that nothing can lower the wages of labour ex¬
cept a fall in the necessaries of the labourer.
Let us next consider the proposition, that nothing can
raise the profits of stock but that which lowers the wages
of labour.
One thing is perfectly clear, that if the whole of what
is produced by the joint operations of capital and labour
were, whatever it is, divided, without deduction, between
the owner of the stock and the labourers whom it employs,
in that case, whatever raised the wages of labour would
lower profits of stock, and profits of stock could never rise,
except in proportion as wages of labour fell. The whole
being divided between the two parties, in whatever pro¬
portion the one received more, it is certain that the other
would receive less.
But what is here put in the way of supposition, namely,
that the whole of what is produced by the joint operations
of capital and labour, is divided between the capitalists and
the labourers, is literally and rigidly the fact. It is, then,
undeniable, that nothing can raise the profits of stock but
that which lowers the w^ages of labour.
The wdiole produce, without any exception, of every
country, is divided into three portions, rent, wages, and
profits. If there were no rent, and the wdiole were divid¬
ed into profits and wages, the case would be clear; be¬
cause nothing could be added to the one without being
detracted from the other.
Rent, however, does, in reality, make no difference.
Rent is no part of the joint produce of labour and capital.
It is the produce, exclusively, of a particular degree of
fertility in particular lands ; and is yielded over and above
a return to the whole of the labour and capital employed
upon that land, over and above a return equal to the joint
produce of an equal portion of labour and capital in any
other employment.
So much, then, for Dr Smith’s opinion, that the mono¬
poly of the colonial trade raises the profits of stock. Let
us next inquire if it be true, that a rise in the profits of
stock, if it were produced by the monopoly, would occa¬
sion, as he supposes, any discouragement to the foreign
trade of the mother country.
It would occasion this discouragement, he says, by rais¬
ing prices. If, then, it can be shown that it would cer¬
tainly not raise prices, every reason for supposing that it
would afford any discouragement to foreign trade is taken
away. But that a high rate of profits does not and cannot
raise prices, is evident from what has been deduced above.
The whole produce of the joint operations of labour and
capital being divided between profits and wages, in what¬
ever degree profits rise, wages fall; the cost of production
remains the same as before.
Not only does a variation in the state of wages and pro¬
fits give no obstruction to foreign trade,—a variation even
in the cost of production gives no obstruction. A nation ex¬
ports to another country, not because it can make cheaper
than another country; for it may continue to export, though
it can make nothing cheaper. It exports, because it can, by
that means, get something cheaper from another country
than it can make it at home. But how can it, in that case,
get it cheaper than it can make it at home ? By exchanging
for it something which costs it less labour than making it
at home would cost it. No matter how much of that com¬
modity it is necessary to give in exchange. So long as
what it does give is produced by less labour than the
VOL. VII.
O N Y. 121
commodity which it gets for it could be produced by at Colony,
home, it is the interest of the country to export. Suppose
that the same quantity of corn which is produced in Eng¬
land by the labour of one hundred men, England can pur¬
chase in Poland with a quantity of cotton goods which
she has produced with the labour of ninety men; it is
evident that England is benefited by importing the corn
and exporting the cotton goods, whatever may be the
price of the cotton goods in Poland, or the cost of produ¬
cing them. Suppose that the cotton goods could be pro¬
duced in Poland with the labour of eighty-five men, that
is, less than they are supposed to be produced with in
England. Even that would not hinder the trade between
them. Suppose that the same quantity of corn which is
raised in England with the labour of one hundred men, is
raised in Poland with the labour of eighty; in that case,
it is plain that Poland can get with eighty men’s labour,
through the medium of her corn, the same quantity of
cotton goods, which would cost her the labour of eighty-
five men, if she was to make them at home. Both nations,
therefore, profit by this transaction,—England to the ex¬
tent of ten men’s labour, Poland to the extent of five men’s
labour; and the transaction, in a state of freedom, will be
sure to take place between them, though England is less
favourably situated than Poland with regard to both arti¬
cles of production.
In what manner this class of transactions is affected by
the intervention of the precious metals—in what manner
the precious metals distribute themselves, so as to leave
the motives to this barter exactly the same as they would
be if no precious metal intervened—it would require too
many wTords here to explain. The reader who recurs for
that explanation to Mr Ricardo, the first author of it, will
not lose his time or his pains.
One other disadvantage of the colony trade is adduced
by Dr Smith. It turns the capital of the country out of
a more into a less profitable employment, by turning it
from the home to a foreign trade; from a foreign of quick
to a foreign of slow returns; and from a foreign to a car¬
rying trade. This doctrine, too, requires some explana¬
tion ; and more, to be sufficiently clear, than can here be
bestowed upon it. The home trade is not necessarily
more advantageous than the foreign; nor the foreign of
quick, than the foreign of slow returns; nor any of them
all, than the carrying trade. These trades, it may be al¬
lowed, increase the gross produce of a country, in the or¬
der in which Dr Smith has arranged them. But a coun¬
try is happy and powerful, not in proportion to its gross,
but in proportion to its net revenue; not in proportion to
what it consumes for the sake of production, but to what
it has over and above the cost of production. This is an *
important fact, which, in almost all his reasonings, Dr
Smith has overlooked. It will hardly, however, be denied,
that in various circumstances, any one of these trades, the
carrying trade itself, may be more conducive to a net re¬
venue than any of the rest, and in a state of freedom
will be sure to be so, as often as the interest of individuals
draw s into that channel any portion of the national stock.
We have now', therefore, considered all those cases
which, in the study of colonial polic}', can be regarded in
the light of species or classes. There are one or two sin¬
gular cases, which are of sufficient importance to require
a separate mention.
3. Where Maritime Strength is the object sought by the Mo¬
ther Country.
That English law which established the monopoly of
the colonies, at least of the transatlantic ones, professes to
have in view, not trade so much as defence. The reason
of that round-about policy is in this manner deduced. The
Q
122
COLONY.
,11 enilnrs for the supply of that navy. The sailors Colon,
Colony, defence of England stands very much upon her navy ; er ) the sailors of the maritime trade. ^
—navy depends altogether upon her sailors; the colony ^ certain extent requires for its supply a
trade and its monopoly breed sailors ; therefore colon t Jade 0f onlv a certain extent. If it goes beyond
ought to be cultivated, and their trade monopolized. extent all the excess is useless with regard to the
Upon the strength of this reasoning, in which, for a eNow, wbat reason has ever been as-
long time, it would have appeared to be little less t a PP]y ^ e the maritime traffic of Great Britain
impiety to have discovered a flaw, the navigation laws, a fe P ; h h mon0p0ly of the colonies, afford a
they aVe called, were embraced with a passionate fond- ° of sailors to a sufficient navy? None
ness by Englishmen. . . . • „ tll_ whntsoever • none that will bear to be looked at. But till
Nothing is worthy of more attention, in tracin0 of that sort, and a reason of indubitable strength,
causes of political evil, than the facility with which ma - d h u of the navigation laws remains to-
kind are governed by their fears, and the degree of con- ^^^ition. In that case it deserves no-
stancy with which, under the influence of that pass.on, the world must allow. It is a
they are governed wrong. The fear of Englishmen t. “ S inteJference with the free and natural course of
an enemy in their country has made them do an tnfin, e v olent “^e^ of the com.
number of things which had much greater tendency 0 ■ wouM ot]lerwise iead them, without any case be-
brKrnt,i^ ins to a>)i>earwhich re<iuires thatvio,entd'sturb-
them so much mischief, as in the taking f ®ecu^'eS discussion of this supposed benefit of colonies we
enemies. When sufficiently frig rtenet, » r shall not pursue any farther ; for it is a signal proof of the
found little difficulty in persuading them, that they J, diffusion of liberal ideas, that the policy of the navigation
could have securities enough. Hence come large stand- diflusion oU.be^ of ridiJule in the British par-
effects of liament, and finds even there but a small number of de-
“ A fur, share mankind, that
in nothing is the rigid exercise ot a sound temperance
more indispensable to the well-being of the community
than in this. It is clear to reason, were reason allowed
fenders
4
Where Profit from Mines of the Precious Metals is the
object of the Mother Country.
There is another singular case, created by mines of the
than in this, it is ciear iu iGa0ut., ^ A colony may be formed and retained
to be the guide in these matters, that the provision o p - of the ld a„d silver it may produce.^ Of
defence should always be kept down to the lowest pos- fo^ 1 ^ we have something ot a specimen
sible, rather than always >niscd to the highes P - the ^nanish colonies of Mexico and Peru. The ques-
terms. At the highest possible terms, the provision foi de- m ^ , advantage can ever be derived from
fence really does ffil the mischief to a community which ‘ion is whether Iffie answer to this question
a foreign enemy could do ; often does a giea ea m - doubtful - but it is not very easy, within the limits
than he would. A moderate provision against evils of ^ ^onfined? t0 ma4 the evidence of it per-
frequent and sudden occurrence, a provision stnct y pi o one case and in one ease
portioned to the occasion, and not allowed o go beyond fectly ^eal ybe derived. That is the case in
it, will save more evil than it produces. A hc)onc ‘ . f c ]iec coionygContains the richest mines in the world,
infallibly produces more evil than it prevents. It enfeebles in lhe world always, in the case of the
by impoverishing the nation, and by degrading with po- . . , supply the whole world; because from
verty and slavery the minds of those from whom its de- precious afforded Reaper than the
fence must ultimately proceed. It makes the country, m ^ workin wiU anow them to be afforded from
this manner, a much easier prey to a powerful enemy than expe mineg . Sand the principle of competition soon
if it had been allowed to gather strength by the accum - l > h duce 0f all other mines from the market,
lation of its wealth, and by that energy in the defence of ex£fcStl ke^rUC^icU contains the richest mines may
their country which the people of a well-governed coun- ^ 1matters J t0 gain from foreign countries, on all
try alone can evince. ^ t . -p . „r„„:nns mPtals which she sells to them, nearly the
jTfthe'mines, which, next to he,,, ave the most in
woifld not contribute to strength, but weakness. Uns the woil .
is an important admission. There is, then, a line to be
drawn ; a line between that extent of navy which contri¬
butes to strength, and that extent which, instead of con¬
tributing to strength, produces weakness, purely it is a
matter of first-rate importance to draw that line correctly.
What attempt has ever been made to draw that line cor¬
rectly? What attempt has ever been made to draw it at
e worm. , , ■.
She must always sell the metal so cheap as to exclude
the metal of those other mines from the market ; that is,
a trifle cheaper than they can afford to sell it. But it e
mines are sufficiently fertile, the metal may cost her much
less in working than the price at which she may thus dis
pose of it. All the difference she may put in her exche¬
quer. In three ways this might be done. The govern-
? What attempt has ever been made to draw it at quei. in ^ J » itge]f. ^ nii ht let them
mT Can any body point out any land-marks winch have ment . u n]i ,',t lropose a tax upon the
been set up by the proper authority * Or, has the matter to f u mineP in any 0ne of these ways it might
been always managed without measure or rule ? And has produce ot f N t tjie world, on ac-
Tt not thus} alwaysWn an easy task to keep the navy in a derive a sort f ‘ ‘bate ^om ^rest o^ ^ thera.
state of excess always beyond the hne which separates the count of the goW without Veing taxed,
degree that would contribute to stiengti ion, it tc0,v ullowed to be worked by the people at large; because,
been to have too ^
C O L
•0]c Could the tax at the mine be duly regulated, that would
^ ^ be the most profitable mode ; because the private adven¬
turers would work the mines far more economically than
either the government or an exclusive company.
It is evident that this is a mode of deriving advantage
from the possession of the richest mines of the precious
metals, very different from that which was pursued by the
Spanish government, and which has been so beautifully
exposed by Dr Smith. That government endeavoured
to derive advantage from its mines by preventing other
countries from getting any part of their produce, and by
accumulating the whole at home. By accumulating at
home the whole of the produce of its mines, it believed
(such was the state of its mind) that Spain would become
exceedingly rich. By preventing other countries from re¬
ceiving any part of that produce, it believed that it would
compel them to continue poor; and if all countries con¬
tinued poor, and Spain became exceedingly rich, Spain
would be the master of ail countries.
In this specimen of political logic, which it would not
be difficult to match nearer home, there are two assump¬
tions, and both of them false. In the first place, that a
country can accumulate, to any considerable extent, the
precious metals; that is, in any other way than by lock¬
ing them up, and guarding them in strongholds. In the
next place, that, if it could accumulate them, it would be
richer by that means.
The first of these assumptions, that a country can keep
in circulation a greater proportion than other countries of
the precious metals, “ by hedging in the cuckoo,” as it is
humorously described by Dr Smith, has been finely ex¬
posed by that illustrious philosopher, and requires no ex¬
planation here.
On the second assumption, that a country, if it could
hedge in the precious metals, would become, richer by
that process, a few reflections appear to be required.
It is now sufficiently understood, that money, in any
country, supposing other things to remain the same, is
valuable just in proportion to its quantity. Take Mr
Hume s supposition, that England were walled round by
a wall of brass, and that the quantity of her money were
in one night, by a miracle, either raised to double or re¬
duced to one half. In the first case, every piece would be
reduced to one half of its former value; in the second case,
it would be raised to double its former value, and the value
of the whole would remain exactly the same. The coun¬
try would, therefore, be neither the richer nor the poorer;
she would neither produce more nor enjoy more on that
account.
It is never, then, by keeping the precious metals, that
a country can derive any advantage from them; it is by
the very opposite, by parting with them. If it has been
foolish enough to hoard up a quantity of the produce of
its capital and labour in the shape of gold and silver, it
may, when it pleases, make a better use of it. It may ex¬
change it with other countries for something that is use¬
ful. Gold and silver, so long as they are hoarded up, are
of no use whatsoever. They contribute neither to enjoy¬
ment nor production. You may, however, purchase with
them something that is useful. You may exchange them
either for some article of luxury, and then they contribute
to enjoyment; or you may exchange them for the mate¬
rials of some manufacture, or the necessaries of the la¬
bourer, and then they contribute to production; then the
eftect 6f them is to augment the riches, augment the ac¬
tive capital, augment the annual produce of the country.
So long as any country hoards up gold and silver, so long
as it abstains from parting with them to other countries
for other things, so long it deprives itself of a great ad¬
vantage.
O N Y. 123
Conclusion.— Tendency of Colonial Possessions to produce Colony.
or prolong had Government.
If colonies are so little calculated to yield any advan¬
tage to the countries that hold them, a very important
question suggests itself. What is the reason that nations,
the nations of modern Europe at least, discover so great
an affection for them ? Is this affection to be wholly
ascribed to mistaken views of their utility, or partly to
other causes ?
It never ought to be forgotten that, in every country,
there is “ a few,” and there is “ a manythat in all
countries in which the government is not very good, the
interest of “ the few” prevails over the interest of “ the
many,” and is promoted at their expense. “ The few”
is the part that-governs, “ the many” the part that is go¬
verned. It is according to the interest of “ the few” that
colonies should be cultivated. This, if it is true, accounts
for the attachment to colonies, which most of the coun¬
tries, that is, of the governments of modern Europe, have
displayed. In what way it is true a short explanation will
sufijciently disclose.
Sancho Panza had a scheme for deriving advantage from
the government of an island. He would sell the people for
slaves, and put the money in his pocket. “ The few,” in
some countries, find in colonies a thing which is very dear
to them: they find, the one part of them, the precious
matter with which to influence—the other, the precious
matter with which to he influenced; the one, the precious
matter with which to make political dependents—the other,
the precious matter with which they are made political
dependents; the one, the precious matter by which they
augment their power—the other, the precious matter by
which they augment their riches. Both portions of the
“ ruling few,” therefore, find their account in the posses¬
sion of colonies. Ihere is not one of the colonies that does
not augment the number of places. There are governor¬
ships and judgeships, and a long train of et ceteras; and
above all, there is not one of them but what requires an
additional number of troops, and an additional portion of
navy. In every additional portion of army and navy, be¬
side the glory of the thing, there are generalships, and
colonelships, and captainships, and lieutenantships; and
in the equipping and supplying of additional portions of
army and navy there are always gains which may be
thrown in the way of a friend. All this is enough to ac¬
count for a very considerable quantity of affection main¬
tained towards colonies.
But beside all this, there is another thing of still greater
importance; a thing, indeed, to which, in whatever point
of view we regard it, hardly any thing else can be esteem¬
ed of equal importance. • The colonies are a grand source
of wars. Now wars, even in countries completely arbitrary
and despotical, have so many things agreeable to the ru¬
ling few, that the ruling few hardly ever seem to be hap¬
py except when engaged in them. There is nothing to
which history bears so invariable a testimony as this. No¬
thing is more remarkable than the frivolous causes which
almost always suffice for going to war, even when there is
little or no prospect of gaining, often when there is the
greatest prospect of losing by it, and that, even in their
own sense of losing. But if the motives for being as much
as possible in war are so very strong, even to governments
which are already perfectly despotic, they are much
stronger in the case of governments which are not yet
perfectly despotic, of governments of which the power is
still, in any considerable degree, limited and restrained.
There is nothing in the world, where a government is
in any degree limited and restrained, so useful for getting
rid of all limit and restraint as wars. The power of almost
124
Colony, all governments is greater during war than during peace.
But in the case of limited governments, it is so in a very
remarkable degree. . . , „ ,
In the first place, there is the physical force ot the
army, and the terror and awe which it impresses upon the
minds of men. In the next place, there is the splendour
and parade, which captivate and subdue the imagination,
and make men contented, one would almost say happy, to
be slaves. All this surely is not of small importance. I hen
there is an additional power with which the government
is intrusted during war. And, far above all, when the go¬
vernment is limited by the will of only a certain portion
of the people, as it is under the British government by
the will of those who supply with members the two houses
of parliament, war affords the greatest portion of the pre¬
cious matter with which that will may be guided and se¬
cured. Nothing augments so much the quantity ot that
portion of the national wealth which is placed at the com¬
mand of the government as war. Of course, nothing puts
it in the power of government to create so great a num¬
ber of dependents, so great a number of persons bound
by their hopes and fears to do and say whatever it wishes
them to do and say.
COLONY.
that its possessions far exceed the total of those of all other Colon?,
countries, and those of each of the other countries are not Wv
of importance to require more than a summary mention.
1. British Colonies.
' Of the proposition, that colonies are a grand source of merit.
•» r» 1    1 ^n i WQ VC that exnense bv A hi
The following enumeration is taken from a paper en¬
titled “ Return from each colony or foreign possession of
the British crown, stating the date at which each colony
or possession was captured, ceded, or settled; the num¬
ber of the population, distinguishing white from coloured,
and free from slaves, at the latest period, and as far as the
same can be complied with ; and whether haying legisla¬
tive assemblies, or governed by orders of the king in coun¬
cil ; stating also the value of exports and imports into
each of those colonies for each of the past three years for
which the same can be made out; printed by an older of
the House of Commons, under date 23d September 1831.
North America.—1. Lower Canada; 2. Upper Canada;
3. New Brunswick; 4. Nova Scotia; 5. Cape Breton; 6.
Prince Edward’s Island ; 7. Newfoundland.
Of these, all but the last are governed by a governor,
council, and legislative assemblies. Newfoundland is go¬
verned by a governor, council, and British acts of pailia-
VJ1 Hit: iji  ~ y i
wars, and of additional expense in wars, that expense by
which the ruling few always profit at the cost ol the sub¬
ject many, it is not probable that much of prool will be
re Witlfregard to additional expense, it can hardly appear
to be less than self-evident. Whenever a war breaks out,
They may be considered as agricultural colonies; tim¬
ber, however, being a considerable article in some, and
fishery a main occupation in others.
Their a^^regate population, according to the latest cen¬
sus, in 1829, was 911,229. The official value of the im-
(V-mn them all into the united kingdom in the same
to be less than self-evident. Whenever a war breai<s out, p ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ of orts from jt L.2,064,126.
additional troops, and an additional portion of } W t indies.—\. Antigua; 2. Barbadoes ; 3. Dominica;
always required for the protection of the colonies. Even West IMies^ ^ Mongerrat; 7. Nevis. 8. St
“SKe ; /o.
«i.e r and Esseqi,ibo; 18-Berb,ce;
amounts to, of a small additional portion, not to spea o • the fourteen enumerated first are governed by
■" ^ Sffer > - “by 8 7:
”f SSrS exceedingly .he causes and g 0^^ lus-
Ce» before*reaping^heVruUs’of ^bitt'^r’expeHence. try0. Cotton and coffee are also cultivated in some of them
Whatever brings you in contact with a greater number of to “ y^^^Yopulation, free and slaves, in 1829,
states, increases, in the same proportion, those clashings were slaves,
of interest and pride, out ol which the pretexts for wa a official value of their imports into the united king-
frequently created. It would exhibit a result which pro- l.9087, and of their exports therefrom
bably woffid surprise a good many readers, if any body fin 18f waS ^JU8 ’
would examine all the wars which have afflicted this coun- L.5,521,169. - - ' ' *
try from the time when she first began to have colonies,
and would show how very great a proportion of them have
grown out of colony disputes.
Sect. III.—Sketch of Existing Colonies.
The history and theory of colonial policy having been
Colonies other than those of North America and the
West Indies.—\. Gibraltar ; 2. Malta and Gozo ; 3. Cape of
Good Hope; 4. Sierra Leone and Gambia; 5. Ceylon; b.
Mauritius; 7. New South Wales; 8. Van Diemen sLand;
9. Swan River. . , i
The government in the three first is by a governor, and
The history and theory of colonial policy having been ^^rnor and council - of" he fifth and sixth by a governor,
Sin vS; geue^outlS the ~ ^ovdcvs ^
« ThctotaUf the populatiou in this Casa is
excirdea^rp^^igtro"^^
" r dominion’ Slh^tate' Chichi undct the management of the Ea,
COLON Y.
125
India Company; a part which, in point of importance, ex-
J ceeds all the rest, and of which the circumstances are pe¬
culiar and anomalous.
In this dominion, the whole continent of India, from the
frontier of the Burman empire to the riyer Sutledge, may
be said to be included, since the military power of the
whole is exclusively in our hands; and those parts, the
civil government of which remains with the native princes,
are under our absolute control.
The outlying territories under the government of the
Company are Prince of Wales Island and the island of
Sincapore in the Straits of Malacca, with some parts on the
coast of the adjoining continent, of small importance ; and
the island of St Helena, which alone has now a separate
government, by a governor, and orders from the court of
directors.
India is divided into three presidencies or governments,
Bengal, Madras, and Bombay ; each government composed
of a governor and council, under orders and instructions
from the court of directors, subject to the control of the
commissioners for the affairs of India. The government
of Bengal, under the title of governor-general and coun¬
cil, has a controlling power over the other two govern¬
ments.
Of the territories in India of which the military power
is in our hands, but the civil government still confided to
the native princes, the principal are, the territory of the
Nabob (now called King) of Oude, Rajpootana, the terri¬
tories of a few Mahratta princes, those of the Nagpore
Rajah, those of the Nizam, those of Travancore, and those
of two rajahs of our own making the Rajah of Mysore and
the Rajah of Sattarah.
According to the best computation, the population in
India subject to the government, both military and civil,
of the East India Company, amounts to 89,577,206, spread
over a territory of 422,990 square miles. Besides this,
there is a territory of 91,200 square miles, of the popula¬
tion of which no statement can be given.
The extent, by computation, of the country still in part
administered by its native chiefs, under the names of al¬
lied or protected princes, is 614,610 square miles; of the
population of which no account has been taken. This is
a territory nearly one third larger than that comprised
under the sole administration of the British government;
no part of it, however, is so densely peopled as the lower
provinces of Bengal. But, making allowance, and more
than sufficient, for that fact, we may assume, that the po¬
pulation subject to the dependent princes is not less than
that under the civil as well as military authority of the
British government; making the whole population in In¬
dia dependent upon the British government, and substan¬
tially its subjects, about ISChOOOjOOO.1
This represents India as a colony of a very peculiar de¬
scription ; and perhaps the name of colony would not with
propriety be given to it, if we had any other general title
under which we could arrange it. When the foreign ter¬
ritory which a state conquers contains a large population
of its own, and so much of the population of the conquer¬
ing state as is necessary to its government, or at least so
much, and but little more, is sent to it, or goes there, such
territory is commonly retained, for the sake of a tribute
demanded from it, and is denominated a tributary coun¬
try. But that is not the case with India, from wliich no
tribute has ever been obtained; nor has tribute been ever
looked to as the object of our policy in retaining it. Our
object in originally forming our connection with it wras
commerce; and our first territorial acquisitions were
made for the sake of commerce, for the protection of Colony,
commerce, or for extending the sphere of its operations.
Afterwards other acquisitions were made for the sake of
the first, which could not, it seemed, be held in security
without addition to the last; and there has been a pro¬
gress in this way, from one acquisition to another, the
sum total of which is the enormous territory now placed
under British rule.
If it be asked, for what advantage is all this territory
governed by Great Britain, it is much more easy to an¬
swer the question on the side of India than that of Eng¬
land. It is of immense importance for a people so greatly
behind Europeans in all the advantages of civilized life,
and whose institutions and habits had acquired a fixity
which seemed to preclude improvement among them¬
selves, to be relieved from the paralyzing operation of
their own rude government, and placed under the rule of
a more enlightened and active people, provided that rule
is not carried to the extreme of oppression. And no one
can reasonably doubt, that the prospects opened to the
vast population of India, by the continuance of the British
rule, as it is, and as it will be under successive improve¬
ments, are of the most gratifying kind. The Indian peo¬
ple will be gradually elevated to the level of European in¬
telligence, all the blessings of which will then flow upon
them.
With regard to the people of Great Britain, it cannot
easily be disputed that their great advantage from this
dominion consists in the consciousness of being the in¬
struments in so good a work; and that is a distinction of
which undoubtedly they may be proud. There is no
other instance in the history of mankind, of a foreign ter¬
ritory held by another state, for the good of the people of
that territory: there is no other instance of one people
held in subjection by another, and the power exercised
not only with so much real advantage to the subject people,
but with such a constant, and vigilant, and minute care of
their interests.
In other respects, our gains may be easily computed.
We have the advantage, it may be said, of the commerce
with India. There is an inveterate habit in England of es¬
timating, not commerce in general, but commerce with this
or that country, in addition to others, far beyond its value.
They who are under the dominion of this blind persuader
do not reflect that commerce is exchange, and that Eng¬
land, or any other country, can exchange only to the
extent of what she has got to exchange. But can any
body doubt that England could exchange all that she has
got to exchange, which is but a limited amount, if India
“ were in the deep sea sunk ?” To make out their argu¬
ment, then, they must say, that we exchange on better
terms with India than we could with any other country;
but if they do say so, it will puzzle them to make good
their position.
There is one source of advantage which, though it may
easily be overrated, and probably is by most people, is
worth something; and that is, the outlet which India fur¬
nishes to the sons of a number of families in the higher
grades of the middle rank in England, who are sent to ad¬
minister the government as civil and military officers. In
an over-peopled country, this, to its extent, is a relief. It
has a tendency to keep at rather a higher level than it
would otherwise fall to, the reward of the labour of edu¬
cated men. And the fortunes which Indian gentlemen
bring home, if greater than the fortunes they would have
made at home, are an addition to the capital of the
country.
1 For these statements, see Appendix to Report from Select Committee of House of Commons, on the Affairs of the East India Company,
\
126
COL
COL
Coiopho- It is often said that we limit our advantages by our own
nite senseless policy, by restraining the most of Englishmen to
I' India. This is another case in which men dream of riches,
Coloratura. believe their dreams when awake. Ihere are two
wavs in which Englishmen may go out to India with
honest views, as labourers or as capitalists. If we ask in
which of these ways it is supposed they will go out, we
may be told, in both. Let us see.
In respect to labourers, India is an overstocked country,
and wages are so low, that Englishmen would not live
upon them. Out of doors work, moreover, which is near¬
ly all the work of the country, cannot be performed by
Englishmen under such a climate. And another obstruc¬
tion is, that English labourers cannot pay the expense of
the voyage. In fact, it is not alleged by persons who have
every knowledge of the circumstances, that English la¬
bourers, to any amount worth regarding, can ever find
their way to India. . t- ,
Then comes the question of capitalists. To what e -
tent is it reasonable to suppose that they, under a system
of free admission, would establish themselves in India
Employment of European capital would be euher on the
land or in manufactures ; for, as to the mere commercial
part, buying, selling, and carrying, it is both a minor part,
and is actually supplied.
When people look at a large object, not with the eyes
of the understanding, but those of the imagination, glaring
through the medium of all the avaricious passions, they
easily give to it gigantic dimensions, and cherish a delusion.
First, as to the land; nobody imagines that the ordi¬
nary products of the land, the food of the people, can be
raised by Englishmen more cheaply than by the natives;
or that Englishmen will find a motive to establish them¬
selves as farmers and agriculturists in India. Ihe case is
different in regard to products intended for the Euiopean
market. English capital is employed in the growth of the
indigo plant; and some other articles may be looked to,
of which sugar and cotton are the chief. But all together,
these products imply a very limited demand for capital.
Indigo has already been supplied in excess; and know¬
ing how cheaply sugar and cotton can be furnished fiom
the other side of the Atlantic, we must regard a success¬
ful competition from India as hopeless.
Then, what are the manufactures in which there is to
be a demand for capital ? None can be named but cotton
and silk. Of raw silk, there is some probability that attei
a time a considerable supply may be drawn from India.
The cotton manufacture we are now supplanting by actual
importations from this country.
The truth then appears to be, that for the employment
of labour and capital, by Europeans, there is little scope
in India. If Englishmen were allowed to go for the pur¬
pose of seizing lands, and collecting plunder from the na¬
tives, there would be a harvest, doubtless, of a few years,
and no more. But this, we may hope, will not be granted. If
so, and if permission to them extends only to the honest
employment of their labour and capital, it will not, how ^
free soever, carry many of them to India, or much increase '■•'yv
the advantages we derive from it. . T j* • .1
The revenue of the British government m India in the
year 1829-30 was L.2l,695,207 ; and the net surplus m
India, after paying all charges, including interest of debt,
was L.1,140,598. T j- r +1
The value of the goods exported to India from the unit¬
ed kingdom was in 1829 L.4,348,859; the value of the
goods imported from India into the united kingdom in the
same year was L.6,920,90b.1
2. Foreign Colonies.
Under this head we shall do little more than name the
possessions retained by the several countries, as the par¬
ticulars of each will be stated under its own title.
Spanish Colonies.—Cuba and Porto Rico, tvvo of the most
valuable of the West India islands, the first decidedly the
most valuable of all. The products and population corre¬
spond wdth those of other West India islanus. Spam also
possesses the Philippine Islands, in the South Sea, near
the coast of China, which have been of little value to that
country, and, as a commercial station, can never be of
much importance, till the condition of the adjoining coun-
tries is very much altered.
Dutch Colonies.—In the West Indies, Holland possesses
the islands of Cura^oa, St Eustatius, Saba, and part of bt
Martin; and on the continent of South America, Hutch
Surinam, the most valuable of all these possessions. In
the Eastern Seas the Dutch have Java, the Moluccas,
Bencoolen on the coast of Sumatra, Macassar, a part of
Celebes, and Banda. Some forts which they possess on
the coast of Africa are only held for the benefit 01 the
siave trade.
French Colonies.—In the West Indies, Guadeloupe,
Martinique, Marie-Galante, Deseada, the two last of small
dimensions and importance; and Cayenne on tne coast of
Guiana. Senegal and Goree in Africa belong to France,
as also the island of Bourbon in the Pacific, St Mane m
Madagascar ; and Pondicherry, Chandernagore, and Mahe,
in the East Indies.
Danish Colonies.—These, in the West Indies, are the
islands of St Croix, a valuable island, and St Thomas, and
St John. In India, Denmark still possesses the small
towns and forts of Tranquebar and Serampore. It has
also a few forts on the coast of Guinea.
Swedish Colonies.—The Swedes have only the small
island of St Bartholomew in the West Indies.
Portuguese Colonies.—part of South America can
now be considered as a colonial possession of lortuga.
In Africa it has Madeira, the Azores, and 116 y_eicle
islands, with its settlements in Angola and Mosambique.
It possesses in the East Indies, Goa, Demaun, and Dm;
and in the Eastern Archipelago, Macoa, a place of impor¬
tance, chiefly from the accommodation it affords to those
who trade with China in the river of Canton. (a. a. k.)
COLOPHONITE, in 3Iineralogy, a variety of garnet
o-enerally possessing a dark colour* and a vitreous, half
fused-like appearance. It occurs massive, or in large
oranular concretions; has a specific gravity of 4*0, and is
met with in the beds of magnetic iron at Arendal m Nor¬
way, in Piedmont, and also in Ceylon.
COLORATURA, in Music, denotes all manner of va¬
riations, trillos, diminutions, and the like, serving to make
a song agreeable.
COLOSSUS, a statue of enormous or gigantic size. The
tost eminent specimen of this kind was the Colossus of
hodes, a statue of Apollo, so high that ships passed with
ill sails betwixt its legs. It was the workmanship 0
Jiares, a disciple of Lysippus, who spent twelve years m
niking it. But it was at length overthrown by an eartli-
uake, after having stood 1360 years. Its heigh was x
core and six feet; and there were few people who coul
athom its thumb. When the Saracens became possessed
1 Parliamentary Papers.
COL
ost
fi
olo
"J
of the island, the statue was found prostrate on the ground ;
and they sold it to a Jew, who loaded nine hundred camels
with the brass. The basis which supported it was a tri¬
angular figure ; and its extremities were sustained by sixty
pillars of marble. There was a winding staircase to go up
to the top of it, where might be discovered Syria, and the
ships proceeding to Egypt, in a great looking-glass, sus¬
pended about the neck of the statue.
Among the antiquities of Rome there are seven colos-
suses; namely, two of Jupiter, as many of Apollo, one of
Nero, one of Domitian, and one of the Sun.
COLOSTRUM, the first milk of any animal after bring¬
ing forth its young, called in some places beestings. It
is remarkable that this milk is generally cathartic, and
purges the meconium ; thus serving both as aliment and as
medicine. An emulsion prepared with turpentine dis¬
solved with the yolk of an egg, is sometimes called by this
name.
COLOUR, a property inherent in light, by which, ac¬
cording to its various proportions or quantities, or from
some other cause, it excites different vibrations in the optic
nerve, which, propagated to the sensorium, affect the mind
with different sensations. See Chromatics and Optics.
Colour, in Dyeing. See Dyeing.
Colour, in Heraldry. The colours generally used in
heraldry are, red, blue, black, green, and purple, which
the heralds call gules, azure, sable, vert or sinople, and pur-
pure; tenne or tawny, and sanguine, are not so common ;
and as to yellow and white, called or and argent, they
are metals, not colours.
The metals and colours are sometimes expressed in
blazonry by the names of precious stones, and sometimes
by those of planets or stars.
OEnomaus is said first to have invented the distinctions
of colours, to distinguish the gundillae of combatants at
the Circensian games ; the green for those who represented
the earth, and the blue for those who represented the sea.
Colour, in the Human Species, difference of. See
Complexion.
Colour, m Painting, is applied both to the drugs, and
to the tints produced by those drugs, variously mixed and
applied.
The principal colours used by painters are red and white
lead or ceruse; yellow and red ochres; several kinds of
earth, umber, orpiment, lamp black, burnt ivory, black
lead, cinnabar or vermilion, gamboge, lacca, blue and green
ashes, verdigris, bistre, bice, smalt, carmine, ultramarine.
Of these colours, some are used tempered with gum-
water, some ground with oil, others only in fresco, and
others for miniature.
Painters reduce all the colours they use under these
two classes, of dark and light colours; dark colours in-
I elude black, and all others that are obscure and earthy, as
umber, bistre, and the like. Under light colours are com¬
prehended white, and all others that approach nearest
to it.
Painters also distinguish colours into simple and mi¬
neral. Under simple colours they rank all those which
are extracted from vegetables, and which will not bear
the fire; as the yellow made of saffron, French berries,
lacca, and other tinctures extracted from flowers, used by
; limners, illuminers, and others. The mineral colours are
those which, being drawn from metals, &c. are able to bear
the fire, and therefore used by enamellers.
_ Changeable and permanent colours form another divi¬
sion of colours. Changeable colours are such as depend
on the situation of the objects with respect to the eye, as
that of a pigeon’s neck, taffeties, and the like ; the first,
however, being attentively viewed by the microscope, each
fibre of the feathers appears composed of several little
COL 127
squares, alternately red and green, so that they are fixed Colour,
colours.
Water-Colours are such as are used in painting with
gum-water or size, without being mixed with oil. See
Painting.
Colour, in Plants, is an attribute found to be very va¬
riable. Different colours are observed, not only in differ¬
ent individuals of the same species, but likewise in dif¬
ferent parts of the same individual. Thus, marvel of Peru
and sweet-william have frequently petals of different co¬
lours on the same plant. Three or four different colours
are frequently found upon the same leaf or flower, as on
the leaves of the amaranthus tricolor, and the flowers of
the tulip, auricula, three-coloured violet, and others. To
produce the most beautiful and striking variety of colours
in such flowers, is the principal delight and business of the
florist.
The primitive colours, and their intermediate shades or
gradations enumerated by botanists, are as follow :
Water-colour, hyalinus.
White.
Lead-colour, cinereus.
Black, niger.
Brown, fuscus.
Pitch-black, ater.
Yellow, luteus.
Straw-colour, Jlavus.
Flame-colour, fulvus.
Iron-colour, gilvus.
Red.
Flesh-colour, incarnatus.
Scarlet, coccineus.
Purple.
Violet-colour, cceruleo-purpureas.
Blue, cceruleus.
Green.
These colours seem to be appropriated to particular
parts of the plant. Thus white is most common in roots,
sweet berries, and the petals of spring flowers; water¬
colour in the filaments and styles; black in the roots and
seeds, but rarely in the seed-vessel, and scarcely ever to
be found in the petals. Yellow is frequent in the antherae,
or tops of the stamina ; as likewise in the petals of autum¬
nal flowers, and the compound ligulated flowers of Lin¬
naeus. Red is common in the petals of summer flowers,
and in the acid fruits; blue and violet-colour in the pe¬
tals ; and green in the leaves and calyx, but rarely in the
petals. In the interchanging of colours, which in plants
is found to depend upon differences in heat, climate, soil,
and culture, a sort of elective attraction is observed to
take place. Thus, red is more easily changed into white
and blue, blue into white and yellow, yellow into white,
and white into purple. A red colour is often changed
into a white, in the flowers of heath, mother of thyme, be-
tony, pink, viscous campion, cucubalus, trefoil, orchis, fox¬
glove, thistle, cudweed, saw-wort, rose, poppy, fumitory,
and geranium. Red passes into blue in pimpernel. Blue
is changed into white in bell-flower, greek-valerian, bind¬
weed, columbine, violet vetch, milk-wort, goat’s rue, viper’s
bugloss, comfrey, borrage, hyssop, dragon’s head, scabious,
blue-bottle, and succory ; but it is changed into yellow in
crocus. Yellow passes easily into white in melilot, agri¬
mony, mullein, tulip, blattaria, or moth-mullein, and corn
marigold. White is changed into purple in wood-sorrel,
thorn-apple, peas, and daisy.
Although plants are sometimes observed to change their
colour upon being moistened with coloured juices, yet that
quality in vegetables seems not so much owing to the na¬
ture of their nourishment, as to the action of the internal
and external air, heat, light, and the primitive organiza-
128
COL
COL
Colour, lion of the parts. In support of this opinion, we may ob-
   . Se, ve, that there is far less variety in the colours of roots,
than of the other parts of the plants ; the pulp within the
skin being usually white, sometimes yellow, rarely red.
That this effect is produced by their small intercourse
with the external air, appears from the circumstance, that
the upper parts of roots, when they happen to stand naked
above the ground, are often dyed with several colours.
Thus the tops of sorrel roots turn red; those of tuimps,
mullein, and radishes, become purple; and many others
are converted into green, whilst those parts of the same
roots which lie more under ground are commonly white.
The green colour is so proper to leaves, that manJ’ ™
those of sage, the young sprouts of St Johns wort, a
others which are reddish when in the bud, acquire a pe
feet green upon being fully expanded. In like manner,
the leaves of the sea-side grape (polygonum), which when
young are entirely red, become, as they advance in growth,
perfectly green; except the middle and transveise ribs,
which retain their former colour.
As flowers gradually open and are exposed to the an,
they throw off their old colour and acquire a new one ; in
fact, no flower has its proper colour until it is fully expand¬
ed. Thus the purple stock-julyflowers are white or pale
in the bud ; and in like manner bachelors buttons, blue¬
bottle, poppy, red daisies, and many other flowers, though
of divers colours when blown, are all white in the bud.
Nay, many flowers change their colour thrice successive¬
ly. Thus, the very young buds of lady s looking-glass,
bugloss, and the like, are all white ; the larger buds purple
or murrey; and the open flowers blue. .
With respect to the colours of the juices of plants, we
may observe, that most resinous gums are tinctured; some,
however, are limpid ; and that which drops from the do¬
mestic pine is clear as rock-water. The milk of some plants
is pale, as in burdock; of others white, as in dandelion, eu-
phorbium, and scorzonera; and of others yellow, as in lo-
vage, and greater celandine. Most mucilages have little
colour, taste, or smell. Of all the colours above enume¬
rated, green is the most common to plants, and black is
the most rare. .
Colour being a quality in plants so apt to change, ought
never to be employed in distinguishing their species.
These ought to be characterized from circumstances not
liable to alteration by culture or other accidents. Ihe
same inconstancy of colour observed in the flowers is
likewise to be found in the other parts of plants, berries
frequently change from green to red, and from red to
white. Even in ripe fruits, the colour, whether white,
red, or blue, is apt to vary; particularly in apple, pear,
plum, and cherry trees. Seeds are more constant in point
of colour than the vessel which contains them. In the
seeds, however, of the poppy, oats, pea, bean, and kidney-
bean, variations are frequently observed. The root, too, al¬
though not remarkably subject to change, is found to vary
in some species of carrot and radish. Leaves frequently
become spotted, as in a species of orchis, hawk-weed, ra¬
nunculus, knot-grass, and lettuce; but seldom relinquish
their green colour altogether. Those of some species of
amaranthus, or flower-gentle, are beautifully coloured. 1 he
spots which appear on the surface of the leaves are of cliffei-
ent colours, liable to vary, and not unfrequently disappear
altogether. The leaves of officinal lung-wort, and some
species of sow-bread, sorrel, trefoil, and ranunculus, are
covered with white spots ; those of dog s-tooth violet, with
purple and white ; those of several species of ranunculus
and orchis, with black and purple ; those of amaianthus
tricolor, writh green, red, and yellow ; those of ranunculus
acris, and a species of bog bean, with red or purple. Ihe
under surface of the leaves of some species of pimpernel
and the sea-plantain is marked with a number of dots or Colon,
points • a white line runs through the leaves of Indian ^
reed, black-berried heatb, and a species of Canary grass:
and the margin or brim of the leaf, in some species of
box, honeysuckle, ground-ivy, and the evergreen oak, ,s
of a silver-white colour. The whole plant is often found
to assume a colour that is unnatural or foreign to it. The
varieties in some species of eryngo, mug-wort, orrach,
amaranthus, purslane, and lettuce, furnish examples of this.
Such being the inconstancy of colours in all the parts
of the plant, specific names derived from that quality are
very properly deemed erroneous by Linnaeus; whether
they respect the colour of the flower, fruit, seeds, roots,
leaves, or express in general the beauty or deformity of
the entire plant, with a particular view to that circum¬
stance. But of this impropriety, committed by former
botanists, Linnaeus himself is not always guiltless. Ihus
the two species of sarracena, or the side-saddle flower, are
distinguished by the colour of their petals into the yellow
and purple sarracena; although the shapes and figure of
the leaves afford much more constant as well as striking
characters. The same may be said of his lupinus albus
and luteus ; reseda alba, glauca, and lutea ; angelica atro-
purpurea; dictamnus albus ; lamium album ; selago cocci-
nea : sida alba ; passiflora rubra, lutea, incarnata, and ca-
rulea ; and of many others, in which the specific name is
derived from a character or quality that is so liable to vary
in the same species. , . . . c
We shall conclude this article with observing, that of
all sensible qualities, colour is the least useful in indicat¬
ing the virtues and powers of vegetables. I he following
general positions on this subject are laid down by Lin-
nrnus, and seem sufficiently confirmed by experimentA
yellow colour generally indicates a bitter taste; as *n gen~
tian, aloe, celandine, turmeric, and other yellow flowers.
Red indicates an acid or sour taste; as in cranberries, bar¬
berries, currants, raspberries, mulberries, cherries, the fruit
of the rose, sea-bbekthorn, and service-tree. Herbs which
turn red towards autumn have likewise a sour taste ; as sor¬
rel, wood-sorrel, and bloody dock. Green indicates a crude
alkaline taste, as in leaves and unripe fruits. A pale co¬
lour denotes an insipid taste ; as in endive, asparagus, and
lettuce. White promises a sweet luscious taste; as in
white currants and plums, sweet apples, &c. Lastly, black
indicates a harsh, nauseous, disagreeable taste ; as in the
berries of deadly night-shade, myrtle-leaved sumach, herb-
christopher, and others, many of which are not only un¬
pleasant to the taste, but pernicious and deadly in then
effects.
Colours, Incapacity of distinguishing. Of this extia-
ordinary defect in vision we have several instances in the
Philosophical Transactions for 1777. One of the persons
there mentioned lived at Maryport in Cumberland. Ihe
account was communicated by Mr Huddart to Ur 1 nest-
ley, and is as follows : “ His name was Harris, by trade a
shoemaker. I had often heard from others that he could
discern the form and magnitude of all objec ts very distinct¬
ly, but could not distinguish colours. This report having
excited my curiosity, I conversed with him frequently on
this subject. The account he gave was this : that he na
reason to believe other persons saw something in objects
which he could not see; that their language seemed to
mark qualities with precision and confidence, which he
could only guess at with hesitation, and frequently with
error. His first suspicion of this arose when he was about
four years old. Having by accident found in the street a
child’s stocking, he carried it to a neighbouring house to
inquire for the owner; he observed the people called it a
red stocking, though he did not understand
gave it that denomination, as he himself thought it com-
lou
■pvij\
COL
nletely described by being called a stocking. This circum¬
stance, however, remained in his memory, and, together
with subsequent observations, led him to the knowledge
^ He^lso observed, that when young, other children
could discern cherries on a tree, by some pretended dif¬
ference of colour, though he could only distinguish them
from the leaves by the difference of their size and shape.
He observed also, that by means of this difference of co¬
lour they could see the cherries at a greater distance than
he could, though he could see other objects at as great a
distance as they, that is, where the sight was not assisted
by the colour. Large objects he could see as well as
other persons ; and even the smaller ones, if they were not
enveloped in other things, as in the case of cherries among
the leaves.
« j believe he could never do more than guess the name
of any colour ; yet he could distinguish white from black,
or black from any light or bright colour. Dove or straw
colour he called white, and different colours he frequently
called by the same name ; yet he could discern a differ¬
ence between them when placed together. In general, co¬
lours of an equal degree of brightness, however they might
otherwise differ, he confounded together. Yet a striped
ribbon he could distinguish from a plain one ; but he could
not tell what the colours were with any tolerable exact¬
ness. Dark colours, in general, he often mistook for
black; but never imagined white to be a dark colour, nor
dark to be a white colour.
« He was an intelligent man, and very desirous of un¬
derstanding the nature of light and colours; for which
end he had attended a course of lectures on natural phi¬
losophy.
“ He had two brothers in the same circumstances as to
sight, and two other brothers and sisters, who, as well as
their parents, had nothing of this defect.
“ One of the first mentioned brothers, who is now liv¬
ing, I met with at Dublin, and wished to try his capacity
to distinguish the colours in a prism ; but not having one
by me, I asked him whether he had ever seen a rain¬
bow : .he replied, he had often, and could distinguish the
different colours; meaning only that it was composed of
different colours, for he could not tell what they were.
“ I then procured and showed him a piece of ribbon ;
he immediately, and without any difficulty, pronounced it
a striped, and not a plain ribbon. He then attempted to
name the different stripes : the several stripes of white he
uniformly and without hesitation called white; the four
black stripes he wras deceived in ; for three of them he
thought brown, though they were exactly of the same
shade with the other, which he properly called black.
He spoke, however, with diffidence as to all those stripes;
and it must be owned that the black was not very dis¬
tinct. The light green he called yellow; but he was not
very positive ; he said, “ I think this is what you call yel¬
low.” The middle stripe, which had a slight tinge of red,
he called a sort of blue. But he was most of all deceived
by the orange colour, of which he spoke very confidently,
saying, “ This is the colour of grass ; this is green.” I
also showed him a great variety of ribbons, the colour of
which he sometimes named rightly, and sometimes as dif¬
ferently as possible from the true colour.
“ I asked him whether he imagined it possible for all
the various colours he saw to be mere difference of light
and shade, and that all colours could be composed of these
two mixtures only. With some hesitation he replied, no,
he did imagine there was some other difference.
“ It is proper to add, that the experiment of the striped
ribbon was made in the day time, and in a good light.”
Colours, in the Latin and Greek churches, are used
VOL. vn.
COL
129
to distinguish several mysteries and feasts celebrated Cohan
therein. II
Five colours only are regularly admitted into the Latin
church ; namely, white, green, red, violet, and black. The
white represents the mysteries of our Saviour, the feast
of the Virgin, those of the angels, saints, and confessors ;
the red, the mysteries and solemnities of the holy sacra¬
ment, the feasts of the apostles and martyrs ; the green,
the time between pentecost and advent, and from epi¬
phany to septuagesima; the violet denotes advent and
Christmas, vigils, rogations, and votive masses in time of
war; lastly, the black is for the dead, and the ceremonies
thereto belonging.
In the Greek church the use of colours is almost abo¬
lished, as well as among us. Red was, in the Greek
church, the colour for Christmas and the dead.
COLRAN, or Coleroon River, the northern branch
of the Cavery, from which it separates below the island
of Seringham, near Trichinopoly, and falls into the sea at
Dericotta, after a course of about eighty miles.
COLT, the young of the horse kind. See Farriery.
COLTIE, a term used by timber merchants, for a de¬
fect or blemish in some of the annular circles of a tree,
by which its value is much diminished.
COLUBER, in Zoology, the name of a genus of ser¬
pents.
COLUMB-KILL. See Iona.
COLUMBA, the Pigeon, a genus of birds. See Or¬
nithology.
COLUMBA, St, in allusion to whose name the island
of Icolmkill, one of the Hebrides, received its ancient
name of Iona, which is derived from a Hebrew word, sig¬
nifying a dove. In the year 565, this holy man, insti¬
gated by his zeal, left his native country of Ireland, with
the pious design of preaching the gospel to the Piets. It
appears that he left his native land with warm resentment,
vowing never to settle within sight of that hated island.
He made his first trial at Oronsay; but finding that place
too near to Ireland, he succeeded to his wish at Fly, which
was the name of Iona at the period of his arrival.
Columba wa^ soon distinguished for the sanctity of his
manners; and a miracle which he wrought so operated on
the Pictish king Bradeus, that the latter immediately
made a present of the little island to the saint. It seems
that his "majesty had not only refused Columba an au¬
dience, but had even proceeded so far as to order the pa-
lace-gates to be shut against him. The saint, however,
was not to be excluded in this way, and by the power of
his word instantly caused the gates to fly open. As soon
as he was in possession of Iona, Columba founded a cell ot
monks, borrowing his institutions from a certain oriental
monastic order. It is said that the first religious persons
in Iona were canons regular, of whom the founder was the
first abbot; and that the monks, till the year 716, differed
from those of the church of Rome, both in the observa¬
tion of Easter and in the clerical tonsure. In this insular
retreat Columba led an exemplary life, and was highly
respected for the sanctity of his manners. He is the first
on record who pretended to the faculty of second-sight;
for he is said to have told the victory of Aidan over the
Piets and Saxons at the very instant it happened. He
had the honour of burying in this island Convallius and
Kinnatil, two kings of Scotland, and of crowning a third.
At length the saint, worn out with age, died in Iona in
the arms of his disciples, and was interred there ; but, as
the Irish pretend, his corpse was in after times translated
to Down, where, according to the epitaph, his remains
were deposited beside those of St Bridget and St Patrick.
See Pinkerton’s Lives of the Saints, art. Columba; and
Johnson’s Tour to the Hebrides.
130
Columba-
Columbus.
COL
COL
COLUMBANUS, a saint and poet, was born in Ireland,
and brought up to a religious life among the disciples of
St Columba. He made uncommon progress in learning,
and very early in life distinguished himself for poetical
abilities by the composition of a book of psalms, and a
number of moral poems, intended also to be set to music.
Jonas, a writer of ecclesiastical history, mentions that
Columbanus belonged originally to a monastery of the
name of Benchor. The same monastery is mentioned by
St Bernard in his life of his friend St Malachi; and he
relates that it sent out a great number of monks, who
spread themselves all over Europe. Columbanus passe
from Britain into France in the year 589, and founded the
monastery of Luxeville, near Besan?on. He had been
kindly received and patronized by King Childebert; but
he was afterwards expelled from France by the wicked
queen Brunichild. He retired to Lombardy in Italy,
where he founded the monastery of Bobbio. _
COLUMBIA, a post-town in Richland district, South
Carolina. It is situated opposite to the confluence of the
Saluda and Broad Rivers, which here unite to form the Con-
o-aree. The town is a handsome and flourishing place, and
is the seat of the state government. The population
amounts to about 4000. Long. 81. 7. W. Lat. 33. 57. N.
Columbia River, a large river of North America, which
rises according to Mackenzie, in the Rocky Mountains,
about Ion-. 121. W. and lat. 54. 23. N. and, after a course
of about 1500 miles, flows into the Pacific Ocean between
Point \dams and Cape Disappointment, in long. 123. 54.
W and lat. 46. 19. N. The three great tributaries of this
river are the Multnomah, 139 miles from its mouth, Lewis,
413, and Clark’s, 600 miles. The tide flows up to within
seven miles of the great rapids, a distance of 183 miles.
Vessels of 300 tons burden can ascend to the Multnomah,
and large sloops may ascend as far up as the tide. The
entrance of the Columbia lies between breakers which ex¬
tend from Cape Disappointment to a point on the south¬
ern shore, over a sort of bar or extensive flat. Ingress and
caress is difficult at all seasons, and from October to April
extremely dangerous. It is the opinion of experienced na¬
vigators that it should not at any time be entered by load¬
ed vessels of 400 tons burden. The westerly wind prevails
on this coast, and the sea breaks upon the bar with great
V10COLUMBRETES, a cluster of islands belonging to
Spain, off the coast of Valencia.
COLUMBUS, or Congregation of St Columbus, a so¬
ciety of regular canons, wdio formerly had one hundred
abbeys or monasteries in the British isles.
Columbus, Christopher, the celebrated navigator and
discoverer of the western world, was born in the city of
Genoa, about the year 1446. Although several illustrious
families have contended for his alliance to them, his father
Domenico and his ancestors appear to have followed the
trade of woolcombers or carders, and were of humble though
reputable origin. Columbus received bis education at the
university of Padua, and, having evinced an early passion
for the sea, entered into nautical life at the age of four¬
teen. The first voyage in which we have any authentic
accounts of his being engaged, was a warlike expedition
fitted out at Genoa in 1459, when, associated with hardy
and daring adventurers, he acquired so much distinction
as to be intrusted with a separate command. After this,
it is supposed, he was employed in various commercial,
pious, and predatory expeditions against the Mahomme-
dans and Venetians, in company with a famous corsair of
his own name and family, and acquired reputation and ex¬
perience in his profession. His son Fernando relates, that
in an engagement off the coast of Portugal with foui Ve¬
netian galleys, returning richly laden from Flanders, the
vessel on board which he served, and one of the \enetianColimi
ships to which it was grappled, took fire. Columbus threw
himself into the sea, seized an oar which was floating near
him, and by this means, and his dexterity in swimming,
reached the shore, although two leagues distant. Proceed¬
ing thereafter to Lisbon, he was induced.to take up his re¬
sidence in that capital.
Columbus became acquainted in Lisbon with the most
eminent men in science and maritime art, whom the en¬
couragement of Prince Henry of Portugal had attracted
around him. At this period (anno 1470) he was in the
vigour of manhood, of an engaging appearance, grave, cour¬
teous, and affable in his deportment, moderate and simple
in his diet and apparel, eloquent in discourse, possessing
high magnanimity, and a temper which, though irritable,
was under the control of a gentle and enthusiastic piety.
Here he married Dona Felipa, daughter of Bartolomeo
Mofiis de Palestrello, an Italian cavalier lately deceased,
and a distinguished navigator, who had discovered and co¬
lonized the island of Porto Santo. Having obtained posses¬
sion of the journals and charts of this sea captain, and also
hearing accounts of his voyages from his widow, Columbus
was seized with an irresistible desire of visiting unknown
regions. In order to indulge it, he made a voyage to Ma¬
deira, and continued during several years to trade with
that island, the Canaries, Azores, the settlements in Gui¬
nea, and the other places which the Portuguese had dis¬
covered on the continent of Africa. By the experience
acquired in such a number of voyages, Columbus became
one of the most skilful navigators in Europe.
At the commencement of the fifteenth century the in¬
telligence of Europe, and particularly of Portugal, was
directed in seeking everywhere for the “ scattered lights
of geographical knowledge.” T-he lofty and enterprising
mind of Prince Henry, matured by diligent researches and
laborious investigation, conceived the idea of the circum¬
navigation of Africa ; and under his auspices the Cape of
Good Hope was doubled, and the commerce of the East
thrown open to maritime adventure. At this period,
whilst invention and skill were well nigh exhausted in the
projection and accomplishment of this eventful discovery,
the existence of the western World was never dreamt of;
the Atlantic Ocean was regarded with awe and wonder,
“ 'seeming,” says Washington Irving, “ to bound the woild
as with a chaos, into which conjecture could not pene¬
trate, and enterprise feared to adventure. 4 he danger
and tediousness of the voyage by Africa first set Columbus
to ruminate whether a shorter and more direct ^passage
to the East Indies could not be found out; and alter long
consideration, he became thoroughly convinced that, by
sailing across the Atlantic in a westwardly direction, new
countries, probably forming a part of the vast continent
of India, would infallibly be discovered. He was led to
this conviction by the theories of the ancients and the
discoveries of the moderns, aided by his own experience
and the advancement of science. Adopting as a funda¬
mental principle, that the earth was a terraqueous globe,
traversable round from east to west, he acquired a notion
of its true figure. His eminent biographer, Washington
Irving, relates, that “ he divided the circumference from
east to west at the equator, according to Ptolemy, into
twenty-four hours, of fifteen degrees each, making three
hundred and sixty degrees. Of these he imagined, com¬
paring the globe of Ptolemy with the earlier map of
Marinus of Tyre, that fifteen hours had been known to
the ancients, extending from the Canary or Fortunate
Islands, to the city of Thinse, in Asia, the western and
eastern extremities of the known world. The Portuguese
had advanced the western frontier one hour more by the
discovery of the Azores and Cape de Verde Islands; stil
1»
✓
COLUMBUS.
131
js. about eight hours, or one third of the circumference of
the earth, remained to be explored. This space he ima¬
gined to be occupied in a great measure by the eastern
regions of Asia, which might extend so far as to approach
the western shores of Europe and Africa. A navigator,
therefore, by pursuing a direct course from east to west,
must arrive at the extremity of Asia, or discover any in¬
tervening land. The great obstacle to be apprehended was
from the tract of ocean that might intervene; but this
could not be very wide, if the opinion of Alfraganus the
Arabian were admitted, who, by diminishing the size of
the degrees, gave to the earth a smaller circumference
than was assigned to it by other cosmographers ; a theory
to which Columbus seems generally to have given much
faith. He was fortified also by the opinion of Aristotle,
Seneca, Pliny, and Strabo, who considered the ocean as
but of moderate breadth, so that one might pass from Ca¬
diz westward to the Indies in a few days.”
Columbus received a decided confirmation of his theory
in 1474, not only from Paolo Toscanelli, one of the ablest
cosmographers of the day, and from the narrative of Mar¬
co Polo, a Venetian traveller, whose map proved of great
assistance to our navigator in his first voyage of discovery ;
but also from the observations of several more modern na¬
vigators. Martin Vicenti, a Portuguese pilot, proceeding
farther westward than usual, found a piece of artificially
carved timber floating on the sea, and, as it was wafted by
a westerly wind, conjectured that it might have come from
some unknown land in that direction. Pedro Correo, the
brother-in-law of Columbus, found a similar piece of wood
on Porto Santo; and had also seen canes of an enormous
size floating upon the waves, which resembled those de¬
scribed by Ptolemy as growing in India. After a course
of westwardly winds, trees torn up by the roots were often
driven upon the coast of the Azores ; and at one time the
dead bodies of two men, with singular features, different
from those of any known race of people, were cast upon
the island of Flores.
On these grounds Columbus formed the vast and daring
enterprise which was destined to hand down his name to
posterity with unfading honour; and, firmly established in
a belief of the successful result of his projects, “ he never,”
says Irving, “ spoke in doubt or hesitation ; but with as
much certainty as if his eyes had beheld the promised
land. A deep religious sentiment also mingled with his
thoughts, and gave them at times a tinge of superstition,
but of a sublime and lofty kind. He looked upon himself
as standing in the hand of heaven, chosen from among
men for the accomplishment of its high purpose ; he read,
as he supposed, his contemplated discovery foretold in
holy writ, and shadowed forth darkly in the prophecies.
The ends of the earth were to be brought together, and
all nations, and tongues, and languages, united under the
banners of the Redeemer.”
The disturbed state of Portugal under Alphonso retard¬
ed the progress of discovery. The compass, though in gene¬
ral use, had not gained that reliance which induced mariners
! fearlessly to brave the dangers of the deep; and the pro¬
ject of a voyage through boundless wastes appeared extra¬
vagant and impracticable. Nothing daunted, however, by
these disheartening symptoms, Columbus pursued his fa¬
vourite schemes with ardour, and longed to put them into
execution. So perilous an adventure was not, however,
to be attempted without the patronage of some sovereign
power,; and John II. of Portugal having at this juncture
ascended the throne, and being favourably inclined to the
cause of discovery, Columbus made his proposals, which
were graciously received by the monarch, and referred
to a learned junto, consisting of Roderigo and Joseph, two
physicians, and DiegoJJrtiz, bishop of Ceuta, all men of
learning and science. Unfortunately, however, these were Columbus,
the persons who had been the chief directors of the Portu-
guese navigations, and had advised to search for a pas¬
sage to India by an opposite course to that which Colum¬
bus recommended as shorter and more certain. They
could not therefore approve of his proposal without sub¬
mitting to the double mortification of condemning their
own theory and of acknowledging his superiority. The
result of their conferences therefore was, that they recom¬
mended the king to fit out a caravel privately, and attempt
the proposed discovery by the designated route, which they
ascertained from charts and details craftily obtained from
Columbus. John, in an evil hour, had the weakness to
adopt this perfidious counsel. The caravel departed, but
the pilots had neither the genius nor fortitude of Colum¬
bus ; their courage failed, and putting back to the Cape
de Verde Islands, they returned from thence to Lisbon,
execrating the project as extravagant and irrational.
This ungenerous and unworthy attempt roused the in¬
dignation of Columbus, who immediately quitted Portugal,
taking with him his infant son Diego, and made applica¬
tion to the government of Genoa'; but this republic, wea¬
kened by the reverses of war, rejected a proposal that
would have restored their ancient splendour, and might
for a long period have “ perpetuated the golden w.and of
commerce in the failing grasp of Italy.” Columbus next
carried his proposition to Venice, where he was equally
unsuccessful. He also sent his brother Bartholomew to
lay his plans before Henry VII. of England, having in
the mean time sailed himself for Spain, where he arrived
after having exhausted all his means.
Columbus, in this state of abject poverty, met with great
hospitality from Friar Juan Perez de Marchena; and, en¬
couraged by this worthy ecclesiastic and his friends, and
assisted by the generosity of Martin Alonzo Pinzon, he
set out for the Castilian court at Cordova in the spring of
1486. The moment was unpropitious for such a proposi¬
tion, the Spanish sovereign being at the time engaged in
military preparations against the Moorish kings. At length,
through the intercession of Cardinal Gonzalez, he obtain¬
ed an interview, and submitted his project to Ferdinand.
True science had as yet made so little progress in Spain,
that most of those to whom the consideration of his plan
was referred were utterly ignorant of the first principles
on which our adventurer founded his hopes. Some, from
mistaken notions concerning the dimensions of the globe,
contended that the voyage could not be performed in less
than three years : others concluded that Columbus would
find the ocean of infinite extent, according to the opinion
of some ancient philosophers; or that if he should steer
beyond a certain point, the convex figure of the globe
would present a kind of mountain, up which the vessel
could never sail with the most favourable wind. Even
without entering into particular discussion, some rejected
the scheme in general, making use of that maxim of the
ignorant, “ that it is presumptuous in any person to sup¬
pose that he alone possesses knowledge superior to all the
rest of mankind united.” Worn out with a series of disap¬
pointments and delays, and supporting himself by making
maps and charts, Columbus, despairing of the Spanish pa¬
tronage, began to look to other courts, in hopes of meet¬
ing more encouragement. He had already made prepara¬
tions for this purpose, and taken measures for the disposal
of his children during his absence, when Juan Perez solicit¬
ed him to defer his journey, making application at the same
time to Isabella, the result of which was a gracious invita¬
tion of Columbus back to court, accompanied with the pre¬
sent of a small sum to equip him for the journey. The mo-
narchs were now pledged to attend to his proposals, and
negotiations were set on foot to carry them into execu-
COLUMBUS.
Columbus, tion.
Columbus appeared before the persons appointed
to confer with him, with the same confident hopes of suc¬
cess as formerly, and insisted on the same high recom¬
pense. He proposed that a small fleet should be fitted
out under his command to attempt the discovery, and sti¬
pulating that he should be invested with the titles and
and refractory that it required the utmost address of Colum-
bus to maintain his authority. The appearances of land,
though frequent, were in many instances deceiving , and at
last the seamen broke forth into loud clamours, and insisted
upon abandoning the voyage. Fortunately, however, on
pulating that he should be invested witn tne uues a. u “ “he Manifestations of land were such
privileges of admiral and viceroy of all the seas and lands the folio g « y. i ht jn tjie evening Colum-
he should discover, with one tenth of all gains either by “ s"» “Xed^lS^g ile^g at a'di^nTe: and",he
trade or commerce. He further offered to fmm^ an “^tP^ning Ld was clearly seen about two leagues
eighth of the cost, on condition of enjoying a g i- . . nqie sail0rs now burst forth into the most extra-
the profits. His terms were, however, deemed maflm s- ^^t transpoSs ^ themselves at the feet of
sible; the negotiation bioke off, and Colum . & CT|mbus implored his pardon, and pronounced him to be
nation, mounting his mule, was 0" the ro d ColumbuMm^ed ^ than human sagaci-
France^when* he^as^vertaken'by'a^messenger^Vom^he i/and fortitude, to accornplish a design so far bevond the
again to ravoui ms unuci -
now completed, and the capitulations were signed by
Ferdinand and Isabella at Santa Fe on the 17th of April
1492. The articles of agreement were to the following
effect: That Columbus should be constituted high ad¬
miral in all the seas, islands, and continents he should
IICIO IdllUC-U, o IXC- y V ^ 1 ]\
(and with his great footstep impressed the new world).
Columbus and his followers threw themselves on their
knees; and rising, the admiral drew his sword, planted the
cross, hoisted the royal standard, and in the presence of
the astonished natives, who imagined that the Spaniards
miral in all the seas, islands, ana com ■ , , , droppecl from heaven, took possession of these new
el^yeTby theS,higb admiraT oT caSu his district, countries in the names of the ^tnia^sovereigns, giving
He was also nominated viceroy and governor general over ^ and settled a colony in
S33=SS£HS«r2
ever. Columbus, or his lieutenant, was to be sole judge
of all causes and disputes arising out of traffic between
those countries and Spain. He was further permitted to
contribute an eighth part of the expense of expeditions
to the countries he expected to discover, and was en¬
titled in return to an eighth part of the profits. A prin¬
cipal object of Columbus in this undertaking was the pro¬
pagation of the Christian faith, to which he was a zealous
devotee. Expecting to arrive at the extremity of Asia,
for a long time through the wickedness of the captain,
who had gone in search of gold. After encountering
several violent tempests, Columbus arrived in the Tagus,
near Lisbon, on the 4th of March 1493. He was treated
with the most honourable attentions by the couit^of Por¬
tugal, and finally reached the port of Palos on tne 15th
of March. .
The triumphant return of Columbus excited the most
unbounded transport. Wherever he went the air rang
XTs “hat kingdom an cantpy of bLarfe of gold, survouaded by fbeir priocij.a!
sumcc-io VJL    o
fits which might accrue from the success of the expedition.
The arrangement being finally completed, Columbus set
sail on the 3d of August 1492, in three small vessels,
only one of which (commanded by himself) was com¬
pletely decked. The two others were commanded by
Martin Alonzo Pinzon and Vicente Yahez Pinzon. The
nobility. When he approached they stood up, and, rais-
ino- him as he kneeled to kiss their hands, ordered him to
be°seated in their presence, and give a circumstantial ac¬
count of his voyage. When he had finished his oration,
which he delivered with much modesty and simplicity, the
kinp- and queen, kneeling down, offered up solemn thanks
«Xti«Dtad sailed neariy200ieag'ue7t”o'the westward, to God for the discovery. Every possible mark of honour
wileii Columbus perceived that the needle of the compass, that could be suggested by gratitude or admuation
: St et iuP, 1 ad varied" a circumstance which tilled conferred on Columbus ; the former cap.tulat.on was coa-
rte ni ofs with consternation. For this phenomenon he firmed, his family was ennobled, and a fleet ordered to be
was obliged to invent a reason, which, though it did not equipped, to enable the navigator to go m quest of those
satisfy himself, yet served to dispel their fears. As the more opulent countr.es winch he st.ll confidently expect-
<snnadron advanced, various indications of land, such as birds ed. to find. „ . , ,• t v-
Zne from the west, the water becoming less salt, and occa- The successful attainment of the splendid discovery of
sionally covered with weeds, animated and supported the Columbus, great and manifold as were lts adv£^age
courage of the crew ; but at length murmurs and fears be- mankind, was the prelude to the dark and troubled ei
Z uf mevad amongst them. They had sailed for eleven of his life. By his second voyage to the western wor d
days wafted by a most propitious breeze, over a tranquil he no doubt in part realized his expectations, ex en
seJ without lowering orshifting a sail. The rude seamen his discoveries, and came back to bpain wUh substa
be4n to be alarmed that no other winds blew but caster- proofs of success ; but the ostensible purpose ofhib
lv°and that it would therefore be impossible for them ever was to obtain reparation ot injurious imputatio
to’return home A few light breezes from the west allay- had been heaped upon him, and generally to have his p
XrTtand several small sing- leges confirmed and enlarged so as to enable him to ex -
fug birds Tame in Te morning and flew away at night, cite his authority over the colonists, who had become re-
its.fractory and unmanageable. But his third voyage only
V accelerated his disastrous fate. The newly discovered
possessions were distracted with the horrors of rebel¬
lion. The verdant and blooming isles, the expected abodes
of peace and happiness, were converted into theatres of
sanguinary conflicts and misery ; and Columbus found him¬
self an object of fear and execration. It was during this
voyage that he landed on the coast of Paria, in South
America. Meanwhile, his enemies in the old world were
not idle. An investigation into his conduct was instituted
under the control of Francisco Bovadilla, who wras em¬
powered, should he find the charge of mal-administration
proved, to supersede Columbus, and assume the govern¬
ment of Hispaniola. The result was, that he and his bro¬
thers Diego and Bartolomeo, after having been treated
with the greatest indignities, wrere sent to Spain in chains.
From these disgraceful bonds he was immediately on his
arrival released by the Spanish monarchs; but his com¬
plaints were tardily acknowledged ; he again sunk into ob¬
scurity, and was reduced to such straitened circumstances
that, according to his own account, “ he had no place to
repair to except an inn, and very frequently had not
wherewithal to pay his reckoning.”
At length he was again employed in a fourth voyage,
with restricted powers. But the result was unpropitious ;
and he returned to Spain, dejected in mind and worn
out with bodily infirmities. Death at last relieved him
from his earthly afflictions. He expired on the 20th of
May 1506, commending, with his latest breath, his spirit
to God. A marble tomb was reared over his dust, bearing
the inscription,
A Castilla y a Leon,
Nuevo niondo dio Colon.1
Columbus was a man of great and original genius, ener¬
getic in his conduct, and possessed of lofty, daring, but
noble ambition. “ The magnanimity of his nature,” says
Irving, “ shone forth through all the troubles of his stor¬
my career. Though continually outraged in his dignity,
braved in his authority, foiled in his plans, and endanger¬
ed in his person, by the seditions of turbulent and worth¬
less men, and that, too, at times when suffering under
anguish of body and anxiety of mind, enough to exaspe¬
rate the most patient, yet he restrained his valiant and
indignant spirit, and brought himself to forbear, and rea¬
son, and even to supplicate.” His piety, though tinctured
with superstition, was genuine and fervent. If on certain
occasions his religion displayed itself in harshness and se¬
verity, the spirit of the age he lived in must be adverted
to in palliation of his conduct. His temperament was
deeply imbued with poetic enthusiasm. “ It spread,” re¬
marks Irving, “ a golden and glorious world around him,
and tinged every thing with its own gorgeous colours. It
betrayed him into visionary speculations, which subjected
him to the sneers and cavils of men of cooler and safer
but more grovelling minds. It filled his mind with solemn
and visionary meditations on mystic passages of the Scrip¬
tures, and on the shadowy portents of the prophecies.”
“ His soul,” observes a Spanish writer, “ was superior to
the age in which he lived. For him was reserved the
great enterprise of traversing a sea which had given rise
to so many fables, and of deciphering the mystery of his
age.” “ With all the visionary fervour of his imagination,”
adds Washington Irving, “ its fondest dreams fell short of
the reality. He died in ignorance of the real grandeur of
his discovery. Until his last breath he entertained the idea
that he had merely opened a new way to the old resorts
of opulent commerce, and had discovered some of the
wild regions of the East. He supposed Hispaniola to be Columbus,
the ancient Ophir which had been visited by the ships of
king Solomon, and that Cuba and Terra Firma were but
remote parts of Asia. What visions of glory would have
broken upon his mind could he have known that he had in¬
deed discovered a new continent, equal to the old world in
magnitude, and separated by two vast oceans from all the
earth hitherto known by civilized man ! and how would his
magnanimous spirit have been consoled, amidst the afflic¬
tions of age and the cares of penury, the neglect of a fickle
public and the injustice of an ungrateful king, could he have
anticipated the splendid empires which would arise in the
beautiful world he had discovered, and the nations, and
tongues, and languages which wrere to fill its lands wdth
his renown, and to revere and bless his name to the latest
posterity!” It will be remarked that Mr Irving, in ac¬
cordance with the generally entertained belief of all his
biographers, alludes to Columbus as being the first dis¬
coverer of the American continent. It has, however, been
lately ascertained that the earliest navigator who touched
the American continent was Sebastian Cabot, who dis¬
covered Newfoundland and Labrador in June 1497, near¬
ly a year previous to the visit of Columbus on the coast
of Paria; and it seems more than probable that Columbus
was aware of Cabot’s discovery. "See Cabot.
Few subjects have afforded more abundant matter for
learned discussion than the records that from time to time
have appeared relating to Columbus. His birth-place
alone has given rise to much ingenious and unprofitable
speculation. That point, as well as the dates of his birth,
and several voyages, are now pretty correctly ascertained.
The curious in such investigations are referred to the Spa¬
nish and Italian authors, particularly to Dissertazione del¬
la Patria di Christophero Colombo, Firenze ; the Lives of
Columbus, by Bossi and Spotorno; and the Relations des
Quatre Voyages enterpris par Christopher Colomb, par M.
F. de Navarette, ouvrage traduit de I’Espagnol, Paris,
1828. See also Memorials of Columbus, by Spotorno ; and
Histoire de I’Amiral Colomb, par Fernando Colomb.
In addition to these points of minor and less general in¬
terest, several controversies have arisen bearing upon the
claims of Columbus to the discovery of the western world ;
but such disputes, at least in so far as they affect the dis¬
covery of the Columbian archipelago, are proved to be idle
and futile ; as no doubt now remains of Columbus having
been the first navigator of the old world who reached the
island of San Salvador, and the first who determined the
existence of the western w orld. One of the most current
slanders on our navigator's fair fame, as related by Inca
Garcilaso, was, that Alonzo Sanchez, sailing to the Ca¬
naries in 1484, reached the island of St Domingo, and
communicated his voyage and route to Columbus. Some
other Spanish writers notice the event without giving the
name of the author of the discovery. Oviedo considers
these relations as mere vulgar fables. We are, however,
told by Columbus himself that he took advantage of such
accounts as were transmitted to him by Spanish and Por¬
tuguese mariners, some of whom had sailed westward so
far as to perceive what they considered to be indications
of land. Gallo and Giustiniani, authors contemporaneous
with Columbus, assert that Bartholomew Columbus first
conceived the idea of western discovery, and communi¬
cated it to his brother; but Columbus has been triumph¬
antly vindicated from these ungenerous aspersions by the
unanimous testimony of the Spanish writers, among whom
Las Casas, who knew both brothers, and preserved many
papers belonging to Columbus, merits especial credence.
» To Castile and to Leon, a new world gave Colon.
134
COL
Columella But if any doubts remained, they are completely removed
II by the written declaration of Ferdinand and Isabella, who,
Column. Jn a communication dated the -ith of August 1494, write
thus to the admiral: “ One of the principal reasons for
which your discovery (the first) has caused so much joy to
us is, that it is to be ascribed to your genius (por ser in-
ventada), and that it has been commenced and terminat¬
ed by your own individual endeavours, by your courage,
your perseverance, and industry.”
COLUMELLA, Lucius Junius Moderatus, a cele¬
brated Roman writer on agriculture, was a native of Cadiz,
and lived under the emperor Claudius. He composed his
wrorks about the year 42 of our era. These consist of a
treatise on agriculture, entitled De Re Rustica, 3nd. an¬
other Re Arboribus. The treatise Re Re Rustica is divid¬
ed into twelve hooks, of which the tenth is in verse ; that
Re Arboribus is ordinarily printed along with the foi mer,
in which case it forms a thirteenth or supplemental book.
The first edition is that of Jenson, Venice, 1472, folio, very
rare, under the title Rei Rusticce Authores vara, Cato,
Varro, Columella, Palladius Rutilius; the second, that
published at the same place in 1482, folio ; the third, that
of Bologna, with explanations and commentaries by Be-
roaldus, 1494, folio. But the most complete and accurate
edition is that of Gesner, entitled Rei Rusticce Scriptores
veteres Latini, cum notis variorum, et ex nova Matth. Ges-
neri recensione, Leipsic, 1735, two vols. in 4to. The two
works of Columella were printed separately, at Strasburg
in 1543, 8vo; at Lyons in 1548, 8vo; and at Bologna,
with interpretations by Bio, in 1520, folio. They have
been translated into the German, the Italian, and the
French.
COLUMN, in Architecture, a round pillar made to sup¬
port and adorn a building, and composed of a base, a shaft,
and a capital. See Architecture.
Columns, denominated from their use.—Astronomical
column is a kind of observatory, in the form of a very high
tower built hollow', with a spiral ascent to an armillary
sphere placed on the top, for observing the motions of the
heavenly bodies.
Chronological Column, that which bears some histori¬
cal inscription digested according to the order of time ; as
by lustres, olympiads, fasti, epochas, annals, and the like.
At Athens there were columns of this kind, on which was
inscribed the whole history of Greece, digested into olym¬
piads.
Funeral Column, that which bears an urn in which are
supposed to be inclosed the ashes of some deceased hero,
w'hose shaft is sometimes overspread with tears and
flames, the symbols of grief and of immortality.
Gnomonic Column, a cylinder on which the hour of the
day is represented by the shadow of a style.
Historical Column is that whose shaft is adorned with
a basso relievo, running in a spiral line its whole length,
and containing the history of some great personage. Such
are the Trajan and Antonine columns at Rome.
Hollow Column is that which has a spiral staircase in
the inside, for the convenience of ascending to the top; as
the Trajan column, the staircase of which consists of a hun¬
dred and eighty-five steps, and is illuminated by forty-
three little windows, each of which is divided by tambours
of white marble. The Monument or fire-column at Lon¬
don has also a staircase, but it does not reach to the top.
These kinds of columns are also called columnce, coclidece,
or cochlidece.
Indicative 'Column is that which serves to show the
tides, &c. along the sea coasts. Of this kind there is one
of marble at Grand Cairo, on which the overflowings of
the Nile are expressed. By this they form a judgment of
the succeeding seasons; when the water, for instance, as-
COL
cends to twenty-three feet, it is a sign of great fertility in Colw
Egypt. _ t
Instructive Column is that raised, according to Jose¬
phus (lib. i. cap. 3), by the sons of Adam, on which were
engraven the principles of arts and sciences. Baudelot
tells us, that the son of Peisistratus raised another of this
kind, of stone, containing the rules and precepts of agri-
culture.
Itinerary Column is a column with several faces, placed
in the cross ways in large roads, serving to show the dif¬
ferent routes by inscriptions thereon.
Lactary Column, at Rome, according to Festus, was a
column erected in the herb market, which had a cavity in
its pedestal, in which young children abandoned by their
parents out of poverty or inhumanity were exposed to be
brought up at the public expense.
Legal Column. Among the Lacedaemonians there were
columns raised in public places, on which were engraven
the fundamental law's of the state.
Limitrophous or Boundary Column, that which shows
the limits of a kingdom or country conquered. Such was
that which, Pliny says, Alexander the Great erected at the
extremity of the Indies.
Manubiary Column, from the Latin manubice, spoils of
the enemy; a column adorned with trophies built in imi¬
tation of trees, on which the spoils of enemies were an¬
ciently hung.
Memorial Column, that raised on occasion of any re¬
markable event, as the Monument of London, built to per¬
petuate the memory of the burning of that city in 1666.
It is of the Doric order, fluted, hollow, with a winding
staircase, and terminated at the top with waving flames.
There is also another of the kind, in form of an obelisk,
on the banks of the Rhine, in the Palatinate, in memory
of the famous passage of that river by the great Gustavus
Adolphus and his army.
Menian Column, any column which supports a balcony
or meniana. The origin of this kind of column Suetonius
and Ascanius refer to one Menias, who having sold his
house to Cato and Claccus, consuls, to be converted into
a public edifice, reserved to himself the right of raising a
column on the outside, to bear a balcony, whence he might
see the shows.
Military Column, among the Romans, a column on
which was engraven a list of the forces in the Roman army,
ranged by legions in their proper order, with the design
of preserving the memory of the number of soldiers, and
of the order observed in any military expedition. They
had another kind of military column, which they called
columna bellica, standing before the temple of Janus, at
the foot of which the consul declared war by throwing a
javelin towards the enemy’s country.
Milliary Column was a column of marble raised by
order of Augustus in the middle of the Roman forum,
and whence, as a centre, the distances of the several ci¬
ties and stations of the empire were reckoned, by other
milliary columns disposed at equal distances on all the
great roads. This column was of white marble, the same
with that which is now seen on the balustrade of an edi¬
fice in the capitol at Rome. Its proportion is massive, be¬
ing a short cylinder, the symbol of the globe of the earth.
It was called milliarium aureum, as having been gilt, at
least the ball, by order of Augustus. It was restored by
the emperors Vespasian and Hadrian, as appears by the
inscriptions.
Sepulchral Column was anciently a column erected on
a tomb or sepulchre, with an inscription on its base. Those
over the tombs of persons of distinction were very large;
those for the common people, small. The latter are called
stellce and cippi.
o
'oil-11
I
Coi H
COM
Statuary Column, that which supports a statue. Such
was that erected by Pope Paul V. on a pedestal before
the church of Santa Maria at Rome, to support a statue of
the Virgin, which is of gilt brass. This column was dug
up in the temple of Peace; its shaft is a single block of
white marble, forty-nine feet six inches in height, and five
feet eight inches in diameter, of the Corinthian order.
The term statuary column may likewise be applied to
Caryatides, Persians, Termini, and other human figures
which perform the office of columns, and which Vitruvius
calls telamones and atlantes.
Triumphal Column, a column erected among the an¬
cients in honour of a hero, the joints of the stones, or
courses of which, were covered with as many crowns as he
had performed military expeditions. Each crown had its
particular name, as vallaris, which was fitted with spikes,
in memory of having forced a palisade ; muralis, adorned
with little turrets, or battlements, for having mounted an
assault; navalis, of prows and beaks of vessels, for hav¬
ing vanquished at sea ; ohsidionalis, or graminalis, of grass,
for having raised a siege; ovans, of myrtle, which ex¬
pressed an ovation, or little triumph; and triumphalis, of
laurel, for a grand triumph.
COLUMNARIUM, in Roman antiquity, a tribute de¬
manded for every pillar of a house. It was first laid on
by Julius Caesar, in order to put a stop to the extravagant
expenses laid out on buildings.
COLURES, in Astronomy and Geography, two great
circles supposed to intersect each other at right angles
in the poles of the world, and to pass through the solsti¬
tial and equinoctial points of the ecliptic. See Geo¬
graphy.
COLURI, a little island in the Gulf of Engia, in the
Archipelago, formerly called Salamis. The principal
town is of the same name, and situated to the south side,
at the bottom of the harbour, which is one of the finest
in the world. The famous Grecian hero Ajax, who makes
such a figure in Homer’s Iliad, was king of this island. It
is now, however, but a poor place, its commodities con¬
sisting of wheat, barley, tar, rosin, pit-coal, sponges, and
potashes, which they carry to Athens. It is seven miles
south from Athens, and is separated from the continent
by a strait about a mile in breadth.
COLYBA, or Colybus, a term in the Greek liturgy,
signifying an offering of corn and boiled pulse, made in
honour of the saints, and for the sake of the dead.
Balsamon, Goar, Leo Allatius, and others, have written
on the subject of colyhce. The substance of what they
have said is as follows: The Greeks boil a quantity of
wheat, and lay it in little heaps on a plate, adding beaten
peas, nuts cut small, and grape-stones, which they divide
into several compartments, separated from each other by
leaves of parsley. A little heap of wheat, thus seasoned,
they call xoAuSa. They have a particular formula for the
benediction of the colyhce, in which, praying that the chil¬
dren of Babylon may be fed with pulse, and that they may
be in better condition than other people, they beseech
God to bless those fruits, and the persons who eat them,
because offered to his glory, to the honour of such a saint,
and in memory of the faithful deceased. Balsamon as¬
cribes the institution of this ceremony to St Athanasius;
but the Greek Synaxary refers it to the time of Julian the
apostate.
COLYTON, a market-town of the hundred of that name,
in Devonshire, 151 miles from London, and situated on
the river Cole, at its junction with the Axe. The trade
formerly carried on in serges is nearly lost. The inhabi¬
tants amounted in 1811 to 1774, in 1821 to 1945, and in
1831 to 2182.
COMA, a small town of Syria, on the road from Alep-
c
M
135
Coma
Berenices
Aions.
po to Bassora, containing a warm spring. It is 150 miles
east-south-east from Aleppo.
Coma Berenices, Berenice’s hair, in Astronomy, a mo- H.
dern constellation of the northern hemisphere, composed ombina-
of unformed stars, between the Lion’s tail and Bootes.
This constellation is said to have been formed by Conon,
an astronomer, in order to console the queen of Ptolemy
Euergetes for the loss of a lock of her hair, which was
stolen out of the temple of Venus, where she had dedi¬
cated it on account of a victory obtained by her husband.
COMBAT, in a general sense, denotes an engagement,
or a difference decided by arms.
Combat, in our ancient law, was a formal trial of some
doubtful cause or quarrel, by the swords or hastens of two
champions. This form of proceeding was very frequent,
not only in criminal, but in civil causes ; being founded on
a supposition that God would never grant the victory but
to him who had the best right. See Battle.
COMBINATION properly denotes an assemblage of
several things, two by two.
COMBINATIONS, in Mathematics, are the different
collections or groups which may be formed out of a given
number of things, taking a certain number at a time, with¬
out any regard to the order in which they may follow each
other.
Combinations are thus distinguished from permutations,
a term used to express the different ways in which the
things which constitute a combination may be arranged.
For example, let the thipgs to be combined be the four
letters a, b, c, d. These may evidently form six combina¬
tions taken two by two, viz.
ab, ac, ad, be, hd, cd.
Taken three by three, four combinations may be form¬
ed, viz.
abc, abd, acd, bed.
There is only the single combination abed of all the four.
There may, however, be twenty-four permutations of the
four letters, and of these, six begin with a, viz.
abed, abdc, acbd, aedb, adbc, adeb.
It is evident that a like number may begin with each of
the remaining letters.
The doctrine of combinations, like every other mathe¬
matical speculation, may be considerably extended. The
most interesting problem, however, is this.
Problem.—A number of things denoted by the letters
a, b, c, d, &c. being given ; to find in how many ways they
may be combined two by two, three by three, four by
four, &c.
Solution.—Let n denote the number of things. The
number of ways they can be combined
. . n(n — 1)
two by two is —^,
J 1*2
three by three, --- ^ ^
four by four ;
and in general the number of combinations, taking them m
by m, is
n(n— 1) (n — 2) (n — 3) (n — m— 1)
l • 2 • 3 • 4 m
Suppose, for example, it were required to find how
many combinations may be formed out of thirteen cards,
all different from each other, taken four at a time.
, 13-12-1M0 r/lt ^ .
Here we have —.— = 715 combinations.
P2-3-4
It is observable that the expressions
n n(n—1) n(n—1) — 2)
? 12 ’ 1 • 2 • 3 ’
136
C O M
C O M
I
Combooco-which denote the number of times the things can be taken
nam one by one, two by two, three by three, &c. are the co¬
ll . efficients of the second, third, fourth, &c. terms of a bino-
Cl>e“unii10 n,ial raised t0 the Wth 1’?u^ (ALGEB-uV | JS’
, j fore, their sum increased by an unit will be (1 + ) >
X and hence the number of all the possible combinations o
n things is 2n — 1. . . , ,
The theory of combinations is of great use m the doc¬
trine of chances or probabilities; for the numerical mea¬
sure of the probability of the occurrence of an event is a
fraction whose numerator is the number of cases in which
the event may happen, and denominator the number in
which it may both happen and fail; and these are deter¬
mined by the doctrine of combinations. I bus, it it were
required to find the chance of drawing any four specified
cards out of a pack of fifty-two, we must find how many
combinations of four may be formed out of fifty-two things.
The number, by the formula, will be
52,5T50*49  970795 •
T2'3'4<
and since each is as likely to happen as any one of the re¬
mainder, the probability of drawing the ^four specified
cards will be measured by the fraction 970725
pear. On making the constitution of trial it was consi- Coml,;
dered, that though the money did answer ?mmm> etpon- tie,
dere, it might be deficient in value, by being mixed with J
copper, brass, or other alloy. .. c a col]
COMBUSTION, a term denoting the operation ot fire
The following works may be consulted on the theory of
combinationsJames Bernoulli Ars Corjcctandi, cap. 2.
•This was translated and published by the late Baron Ma-
seres, in a volume of tracts entitled The Doctrine oj Per-
mutations and Combinations, &c.; Dr Wallis’s Algebra;
and most treatises of algebra, among the latest ot which
is Peacock’s, Cambridge, 1830. T .r • „
COMBOOCONAM, a town of Southern India, in the
province of Tanjore. This was the ancient capital of the
Chola race, one of the oldest Hindu dynasties of which
any traces remain, and from whom the whole coast ot Co¬
romandel, properly Cholamundel, derives its name. It
still retains many visible indications ot its ancient splen¬
dour. Its inhabitants are now chiefly Brahmins, whose
habitations are neat, and the district is thriving. Some
of the tanks and pagodas are represented by travellers
as very fine, and as indicating the former splendour ot
the town. The surrounding country is in a high state of
cultivation. ... c j- ^ ^ c
COMBUMPADOO, the principal town ot a district ot
the same name, in the Nizam s territories, and province of
Hyderabad. It is eighty miles east of the city of Hyder¬
abad. Long. 79. 56. E. Lat. 17. 23. N. The district is
situated between the seventeenth and eighteenth degrees
of north latitude. . .
COMBUST, in Astronomy. When a planet is in con¬
junction with the sun, or not distant from it above half its
disk, it is said to be combust, or in combustion.
According to Argol, a planet is combust, 01 in combus¬
tion, when not above eight degrees and thirty minutes
distant from the sun, either before or after him.
COMBUSTIO Pecuniae, the ancient way of trying mix¬
ed and corrupt money, by melting it down upon payments
into the exchequer. In the time of King Henry II. a
constitution was made, called the trial by combustion ; the
practice of which differed little or nothing from the pre¬
sent method of assaying silver. But whether this exami¬
nation of money by combustion was to reduce an equation
of money only to sterling, viz. a due proportion of alloy
with copper, or to reduce it to pure silver, does not ap-
upon any inflammable substance, by which it smokes,
flames, and is reduced to ashes. . . , .
COMEDY, that branch of dramatic poetry which gives
a view of common and private life, recommends virtue, and
corrects the vices and follies of mankind by means of ridi¬
cule. See the article Drama. _
This last kind alone was received among the Romans,
who nevertheless made a new subdivision of it into an¬
cient, middle, and new, according to the various periods
of the commonwealth. Among the ancient comedies were
reckoned those of Livius Andronicus ; among the middle,
those of Pacuvius ; and among the new, those ot ie-
rence. They likewise distinguished comedy according to
the quality of the persons represented, and the dress they
wore, namely, into togatce, prmtextatce,, trabeatcB, and taber-
,nance, which last agrees pretty nearly with our farces.
Among us, comedy is distinguished from iarce; the tor-
mer representing nature as she is, while the latter dis¬
torts and overcharges her. They both paint from the life,
but with different views ; the one to make nature known,
the other to make her ridiculous.
COMENIUS, John Amos, a grammarian and protes-
tant divine, bora in Moravia in 1592. He entertained
a design to introduce a new method of teaching lan¬
guages; for which purpose he published some essays in
1616, and had prepared some others, when the Spaniards
pillaged his library, after having taken the city of Fulnec,
where he was minister and master of the school. Come-
nius fled to Lesna, a city ot Poland, and taught Latin
there. The book he published in 1631, under the title ot
Janua Linguarurn Reserata, gained him a prodigious re¬
putation, insomuch that he was offered a commission tor
regulating all the schools in Poland. The parliament of
England also desired his assistance to regulate the schools
in that kingdom. He arrived at London in 1641, and would
have been received by a committee to hear his plan, had
not the parliament been occupied with other matters. He
therefore went to Sweden, being invited by a generous
patron, who settled upon him a stipend which delivered
him from the fatigues of teaching; and now he employed
himself wholly in discovering general methods for those
who instructed youth. In 1657 he publisher the differ¬
ent parts of his new method of teaching. He was not
only occupied with the reformation of schools; but he
also filled his brain with prophecies, as the tall ot Anti¬
christ, the Millennium, and such like. At last Comenius
took it into his head to address Louis XIV. of I ranee, and
to send him a copy of the prophecies of Drabicius; insi¬
nuating, that it was to this monarch God had promised
the empire of the world. He became sensible at last ot
the vanity of his labours, and died in 16/1. .
COMERCOLLY, a flourishing town of Bengal, in the
district of Rajishy. It is situated on the eastern bank ot
the Nouganga, which is open at all seasons ot the year;
and it is^ in consequence a great mart of the commerce
which is carried on between the north-west provinces and
Calcutta. The East India Company have here a com¬
mercial factory for the purchase of cotton and silk goods.
It is 64 miles south-east from Moorshedabad. Long. 0^.
11. E. Lat. 23. 52. N.
137
COME T.
et< In the article Astronomy we have given a general de-
scription of the orbits and physical appearances of comets.
In the present article it is our purpose to give a solution
of the problem of determining the approximate elements
of a comet’s orbit from three geocentric observations,—
a problem of very great importance in astronomy, since it
is only from the circumstance of moving in the same or¬
bit, that the identity of a comet, in its successive revolu¬
tions, can be inferred with certainty.
The astronomy of comets may be said to have origi¬
nated with Tycho Brahe, who showed that, by reason of
the smallness of their parallaxes, their distances from the
earth must be greater than that of the moon. Before this
era they had been generally regarded as meteors casually
engendered in the atmosphere, and having no permanent
duration or connection with the solar system. The con¬
clusions of the Danish astronomer were confirmed by the
observations of Galileo, Snell, and Kepler, on the comet
which appeared in the beginning of the seventeenth cen¬
tury; and as it was now certain that the comets do not
belong to the earth, but move in the region of the planets,
the determination of their orbits, and their relations to
the other known bodies of the universe, became a problem
of the highest interest. Kepler attempted to represent
their apparent paths by supposing them to move in straight
lines, with a variable velocity; and on this hypothesis the
orbits of several comets were computed by Dominic Cas¬
sini, with a degree of success that might appear remark¬
able, were it not known that the apparent path of a comet
differs little from a straight line during a considerable
portion of the time that it is visible from the earth. But
it could not fail soon to be perceived that the hypothesis
of rectilinear motion is not only improbable in itself, but
inconsistent with accurate observation. Hevelius demon¬
strated, in his Cometoffraphia, published in 1668, that the
path of the comet of 1665 was curvilinear, and concave
towards the sun ; and he even supposed the orbit might be
a parabola, without hinting, how-ever, that the sun is placed
in the focus. But the individual who, before the grand
discoveries of Newton, approximated most nearly to a cor¬
rect knowledge of the true nature of the cometary orbits,
was Ddrfel, protestant minister of Wieda, a village near
Plauen, in Upper Saxony. Ddrfel observed the comet of
1680-1, from the 22d of December till the end of the fol¬
lowing January, and recognised its identity on its emerg¬
ing from the sun’s rays, after passing through the perihe¬
lion of its orbit; and he proved the orbit to be a parabola,
having the sun in the focus. The observations of Ddrfel
were published in 1681, consequently before the appear¬
ance of the Principia, in a small work, which has become
so extremely rare, that neither Montucla nor Delambre
had been able to procure a copy of it. To Ddrfel, there¬
fore, belongs the honour of having been the first to point
out the true orbit of a comet, though his merit has passed
almost unnoticed in consequence of the more important
discoveries which followed so soon after. It is not known
whether Newton was aware of the observations of Ddrfel;
but it is certain that the latter had no idea of the great
principle of attraction, in virtue of which the comets as
well as the planets perform stated revolutions about the
sun.. In his hands the parabolic orbit was simply an astro¬
nomical hypothesis, connected with no system, and framed
only to satisfy a few observations. Newton, on the other
and, demonstrated that the comets form a part of the so¬
ar system, that they describe orbits about the sun in vir-
vol. VII.
tue of his attractive force, obeying the same laws of mo- Comet,
tion as the planets; and he showed, moreover, in what
manner the elements of their orbits may be computed, on
the parabolic hypothesis, from three geocentric observa¬
tions of tbeir longitudes and latitudes.
Newton has given, in the Principia, two different solu¬
tions of the problem of determining a parabolic orbit from
three observations. In the first he supposes that a small
portion of the trajectory may be regarded as a straight
line, described with a uniform motion, so that its seg¬
ments, intercepted by straight lines drawn from the earth
to the comet, at the times of the respective observations,
are proportional to tbe intervals of time between the ob¬
servations. According to this supposition, the ratio of
these segments is known. It follows, also, since the por¬
tion of the trajectory included between the extreme ob¬
servations is a straight line, that its projection on the
plane of the ecliptic is also a straight line, and divided si¬
milarly to the trajectory itself, by the projections of the
straight lines joining the places of the earth and the co¬
met. In order, therefore, to determine the projected or¬
bit, it might seem to be only necessary to draw a straight
line in such a manner that its segments, intercepted by
straight lines Avhose positions are given (being determined 4
by the observed longitudes), shall have to each other given
ratios. But this problem, in the case in which there are
only three observations, or three given straight lines, is
altogether indeterminate; for having assumed any point
whatever in one of the three given straight lines, it is al¬
ways possible to draw through that point a straight line,
which shall be divided into segments having a given ratio,
by the other two given straight lines. But it is obvious
that the position of the transversal line will be different
for every different position of the assumed point; conse¬
quently the number of solutions is infinite. When the
number of observations is four, the problem is to draw a
straight line, so that it may be divided into parts having
given ratios to one another, by four straight lines given in
position. In this state of the data, it becomes, generally
speaking, determinate, and admits of only a single solu¬
tion. This problem had been already resolved by Dr
Wallis and Sir Christopher Wren, and to their solutions
Newton added two others of his own. There is still a
case, however, in which, even when four straight lines
are given, the problem is indeterminate; and it happens,
by a remarkable coincidence, that it is this case precisely
which occurs in the application to the cometary motions.
If the position of the four given lines is such that two
transversal lines can be drawn so that the segments of
both of them are respectively proportional to given lines,
then innumerable other straight lines may be drawn which
shall be all cut in the same ratio. Now this is the case
with regard to the four straight lines which join the places
of the earth and comet at the instants of the respective
observations. During the short interval that elapses be¬
tween the extreme observations, the earth, as well as the
comet, may be regarded as moving in a straight line with
a uniform velocity ; so that the orbit of the earth, and the
trajectory of the comet, are both divided into segments
proportional to the intervals between the observations, and
consequently proportional to each other. This circum¬
stance, which was first pointed out by Boscovich, renders
the problem inapplicable to astronomy; for although the
earth’s motion should not be regarded as entirely rectili¬
near and uniform, yet the data necessarily approach so
.38
Cornel.
COMET.
near to the indeterminate case, that no satisfactory con¬
clusion can be deduced from them. Hence all attempts
to compute the orbit of a comet in this manner have
failed. (See Playfair’s Memoir on the Origin and Inves¬
tigation of Porisms, in vol. iii. of the Edinburgh Transac¬
tions, or in the third volume of his Works.)
The second method proposed by Newton forms Propo¬
sition 41 of the third book of the 'Principia. Though un¬
exceptionable in theory, it leads, when actually applied
to the determination of an orbit, to computations exces¬
sively complicated and laborious, and is consequently now
entirely disused. It is probable that it was this method
which was followed by Dr Halley, who computed the or¬
bits of a great number of comets, though he has nowhere
explained the process of computation he adopted. It is
illustrated by Dr David Gregory in his Astronomm Phy-
sica, and by Lemonnier in his Theorie des Cometes.
The problem of the comets remained for many years in
the state in which it was left by Newton, and astronomeis
were still in want of a practical method by which a para¬
bolic orbit could be determined with tolerable ease and
accuracy. In the absence of a direct solution, it was
usual to have recourse to the methods of trial and enor,
and to approximate, by successive suppositions, to an or¬
bit that would nearly represent the observations. _ Hus
method was practised by Bradley, and by Lemonnier in
his Institutions Astronomiques. Lacaille also published a
method of the same kind in 1746, which was long follow¬
ed by the continental astronomers, and is recommended
by Delambre as possessing some advantages over those
which are now generally preferred. In fact, all the me¬
thods which have yet been devised involve more or less
of hypothesis, and require to be corrected by successive
trials. Various other solutions of the problem weie pub¬
lished about the same time, among which, those of Sejour,
Hennert, TemplehofF, and Bouguer, may be mentioned,
though they are now entirely abandoned. The celebrated
Boscovich, also, in the third volume of his Opera Perti-
nentia ad Opticam et Astronomiam, undertook to consider
this subject; and the solution which he gave is remarka¬
ble, as being the first in which the velocity of the comet
in its orbit was taken into account as one of the essential
conditions of the problem. It is, however, excessively com¬
plicated, and contains a mixture of algebraic formulae and
graphical operations susceptible of very little accuracy.
Delambre, in speaking of this method, doubts if it was
ever employed in the actual computation of an oibit by
any astronomer, excepting the author himself, oi peihaps
some of his friends, though it is destitute neither of sci¬
ence nor address. (Astr. du XVIII™ Siecle, p. 653.)
But the most important work which appeared on the sub¬
ject of the cometary motions, previous to the investigations
of Lagrange and Laplace, was that of Lambert, entitled
Insigniores Orbit re Oometaruni Proprietates. Among the
formulae which it contains relative to the motion of a body
in a parabolic orbit, there is one, extremely remarkable on
account of its elegance, which gives the time of describ¬
ing an arc in terms of its chord, and the tivo ladn vec-
tores drawn through its extremities. I his formula, which
retains the name of Lambert's Theorem, though Gauss has
shown that it really belongs to Euler, is of great use in
the cometary theory, as it affords a very easy means of
correcting the hypothetical values which it is necessary to
substitute in the equations of the problem. Lambert also
pointed out rules for determining, without solving the
equations, whether the distance of the comet from the
sun is greater or less than the distance of the sun fiom the
earth; a knowledge of which circumstance affords con¬
siderable aid in forming a first hypothesis, and serves to
abridge the preliminary computations.
Notwithstanding the repeated attempts of so many ce- Co
lebrated astronomers and mathematicians, the problem of'w"'t
determining a cometary orbit had not received a direct or
satisfactory solution, when it was taken up by Lagrange in
the Berlin Memoirs for 1778. After examining and point¬
ing out the defects of the different methods then known,
Lagrange gave a new method, which has formed the basis
of the greater part of the analytical solutions which have
been proposed since. Hie principle of his analysis is at
once simple and direct. It will be recollected that^ the
data of the problem are three observed positions of the
comet, or three geocentric longitudes and latitudes. La¬
grange first gives formulae to express the co-ordinates of
the comet at the epochs of the first and thiid obsei yations,
in terms of its co-ordinates at the second observation; he
then proceeds to substitute these values in the differential
equations of motion; and in this manner, without making
any hypothesis respecting the nature of the orbit, he ob¬
tains the necessary number of independent equations for
eliminating the three co-ordinates, together with their
differential co-efficients, leaving three final equations, in
which the unknown quantities are the three distances^ of
the comet from the earth at the epoch of the respective
observations. On eliminating twm of these distances, the
resulting equation is found to rise to the eighth degree.
It is easily reducible to the seventh; but unfortunately
there are no other means of determining its roots than by
repeated trials according to the methods of false position.
Assuming, however, that a sufficiently approximate value
of the comet’s distances from the earth has been found, in
this way, it is thence easy to deduce its corresponding
radii vectores, or distances from the sun, together with the
angles they include, from which data all the elements of
the orbit can be determined without difficulty.
Theoretically considered, the solution of Lagrange may
be considered as perfect; but when it comes to be actual¬
ly applied in the computation of an orbit, difficulties arise
which can only be overcome, or eluded, by certain modi¬
fications of the general method, which the illustrious au¬
thor has not explained. He did not himself attempt the
applications, or he could not have failed to perceive, and
would doubtless have provided for, the circumstances
which, in following his method, occasion so much embar¬
rassment to the computer. Lagrange made some import¬
ant additions to his original analysis in the Berlin Me¬
moirs for 1783, and it is also explained in the second vo¬
lume of the Mecanique Analytique.
Another method of obtaining a solution of the problem,
entirely different from the above, was purposed by Laplace
in the Memoirs of the Academy of {sciences of I aris for
1780, and is developed with all the necessary details, m
the second book of the Mecanique Celeste. Ihe peculiaii-
ty of Laplace’s method consists in its being supposed that
a small portion of the orbit is accurately known from ob¬
servation ; that is to say, it is assumed that the longitude
and latitude of the comet at a given epoch, together with
the first and second differentials of those quantities, have
been precisely determined. From these data the elements
of the orbit can be deduced more simply than by any other
method yet proposed ; but it is found in practice that the
determination of the first and second differentials of the
comet’s longitude and latitude is generally a matter of dif¬
ficulty or uncertainty, and in some cases altogether im¬
practicable. Laplace had at first imagined, that when a
considerable number of observations have been obtained,
as is most frequently the case, the differential values ot
the longitude and latitude would be found with greater
accuracy by combining the whole of the observations , ut
it was subsequently shown by Legendre, that when more
than a few observations are employed, the enors unavoi
COME T.
139
ably introduced in the arithmetical operations necessary
for interpolating the observed places of the comet, are
such as to increase, instead of diminishing, the errors of
observation. It is therefore advantageous to confine our¬
selves to the number of observations strictly necessary,
namely three ; and to employ the remaining observations
in correcting the elements deduced from these three.
With three observations only, it cannot be expected that
the results will have a high degree of accuracy ; but when
approximate values of the elements of an orbit have been
found, it is in general easy to introduce such corrections
as will give an orbit representing the observations within
the limits of unavoidable errors. Laplace’s method affords
the simplest means of obtaining such approximations of
any hitherto proposed, and is applicable perhaps in as great
a number of cases as any other; it is consequently very
frequently adopted by computers. Cases indeed occur in
which it fails altogether, as happened in regard to the
comet of 1814; but the same thing takes place with every
other method that has yet been devised ; nor is it always
possible to discover, till actual trial has been made, the
particular circumstances connected with the position or
motion of the comet, which render one method more ap¬
plicable than another.
Of the numerous methods of determining the approxi¬
mate elements of an orbit from three observations, that of
Olbers is one of the simplest and most direct, though the
approximations which it gives are not very exact. Olbers
supposes the orbit to be a parabola; a supposition which
gives one equation more than the number of unknown
quantities. He supposes, moreover, that the chord of the
arc which joins the places of the comet at the epoch of
the first and third observations, is divided, by the radius
vector corresponding to the middle observation, into seg¬
ments proportional to the intervals of time between the ob¬
servations. The last supposition can only be admitted
when the intervals between the observations are nearly
equal; if a considerable inequality exists in the intervals,
and more especially, if, at the same time, the radius vec¬
tor of the comet is less than that of the earth, it leads to
very inaccurate results. The author, indeed, shows how
the errors of the hypothesis may be in some degree cor¬
rected; but, after all, his approximation includes only
quantities of the second order in respect of the time.
This may be sufficient in some cases ; but in general it will
be necessary to include quantities of the third order. The
method of Olbers is explained at considerable length in
the third volume of Delambre’s Astronomic.
In 1806 Legendre published his Nouvelles Methodespour
la determination des Orbites des Cometes; a work very re¬
markable, not only by reason of the important light it
threw on the question under consideration, but alsoon ac-
count of its containing the first exposition of the method
of combining the results of a great number of observations,
known by the name of the method of least squares, and
which is so extensively useful in many questions of natu¬
ral philosophy and astronomy. The method of determining
an orbit given in this memoir is in some respects the same
as that of Lagrange ; but the equations of the problem are
put under a form which admits of an easier application, and
gives surer results ; and the circumstances are fully deve¬
loped and explained, which had so frequently caused La¬
grange s method to fail in actual trial. Legendre also adopt¬
ed a different method of treating the fundamental equations
of the problem. Instead of deducing the elements of the
orbit from two radii vectores and the contained angle, he
eliminates those radii, and deduces expressions for the
three rectangular co-ordinates of the comet at the epoch
of the mean observation, and their three differential co¬
efficients regarded as functions of the time. When the co¬
ordinates and their differential co-efficients-have been de- Comet,
termined, the elements of the orbit can be easily deduced
from them by known methods applicable to orbits of all
descriptions. In the case in which the intervals between
the observations are equal (and this condition can in gene¬
ral be satisfied by interpolating the observed places of the
comet), the equations take a remarkably simple form, and
the analytical solution is obtained with great facility. In
the general case, that is to say, when the intervals between
the observations are unequal, the equations are somewhat
more complicated ; but they have still an analogous form,
and the additional labour required for their computation
is perhaps compensated by the absence of preliminary in¬
terpolation, and by the greater certainty that arises from
employing directly the data furnished by observation.
This method of determining an orbit is exhibited in a
vei-y clear and elegant manner by Pontecoulant in his
Theorie Analytique du Systeme da Monde, tome ii.
In the Transactions of the Royal Society for 1814, Mr
Ivory has given a method of obtaining a first approxima¬
tion to the orbit of a comet, explained with all the perspi¬
cuity and analytical elegance which so peculiarly characte¬
rize the writings of this eminent and justly celebrated ma¬
thematician. Mr Ivory’s solution is founded on the same
principles as that of Olbers, but it gives a nearer approxi¬
mation, and is also adapted to a case in which the ordi¬
nary methods fail, namely, when the comet and the earth
are nearly at the same distance from the sun. Like Olbei’s,
and indeed Newton, Mr Ivory supposes the chord of the
parabolic arc, described in the interval between the ex¬
treme observations, to be divided by the radius vector
corresponding to the middle observation in the ratio of
the times between the observations ; a supposition which,
as we have already remarked, though it simplifies the ana¬
lysis and computations, cannot always be admitted, and
which, in fact, leads, in some cases, to very sensible errors.
It has been objected to this solution, that it is needlessly-
encumbered with auxiliary formulae.
The facility with which an orbit can be computed ac¬
cording to this method, induced Legendre to resume the
investigation of the subject, in order to obtain, if possible,
from the same method, more approximate elements. In
1820 a second supplement was published to the Nouvelles
Methodes, containing a solution grounded on the same prin¬
ciples as those of Olbers and Ivory. Instead of assuming,
however, like those two mathematicians, the chord of the
parabolic arc to be divided by the radius vector of the
middle observation in the ratio of the elapsed times, Le¬
gendre finds an expression for the value of each of its seg¬
ments in terms of the time; and the degree of approxi¬
mation ultimately obtained depends on the number of
terms of the series expressing those values that are in¬
cluded in the computation. This method possesses seve-
ral advantages. In the first place, it requires no prelimi¬
nary interpolations ; in the second place, it is simple, and
can be understood without a very high degree of algebraic
skill; and lastly, which is of most importance, it will be
found to give, wTe believe, in a great majority of cases,
especially when the intervals between the observations
are considerably unequal, a nearer approximation than any
of the other methods, with the same degree of labour. For
these reasons we have adopted it in the present article.
In particular cases other methods may be found more appli¬
cable ; but the same objection may be made to those of La¬
place, Olbers, and indeed every other which has been pro¬
posed. No method will answer equally well in every case.
The last work on this subject to which we shall refer is
a paper by Mr Lubbock, in the Memoirs of the Royal As¬
tronomical Society, vol. iv. part i., 1830. We have already
remarked, that the final equation which gives the radius
140
COMET.
d?X
It2
+
J=0'
i v_ n
d(2 + ~ ’
cPz
Comet, vector of the comet, or its distance from the earth, rises of the orbit. With these data we are enabled to compute Cot, (joiiiet
to the seventh degree, and that consequently the solution the other elements by the methods employed for deter-
of the problem can only be obtained by the method of mining the elliptic orbits of the planets,
trial and error. Mr Lubbock proposes the following me- The problem of determining a cometary orbit resolves
thod of finding a value of the radius vector by means of a itself into two parts. In the first it is required to assign
quadratic equation. The accelerating forces acting on the an orbit which will represent all the observations made
comet, in the direction of the three rectangular co-ordi- during a single appearance of the comet; and m the se¬
nates of its orbit, the sun’s mass being unit, are, cond, to compute the effects of the disturbing forces of
the planets, so as to predict the changes which will take
place in the form and position of the orbit during an inde¬
finite number of revolutions. T\\e perturbations, however,
which are computed in the same manner whether the dis¬
turbed body be a comet or a planet, form a problem of
Physical Astronomy by far too important to be under¬
taken in this place. We will therefore confine ourselves
to the approximate determination of a parabolic orbit from
three observations. The method which we have follow¬
ed, as we have already intimated, is that which was pro¬
posed by Legendre in the second Supplement to his Nou-
velles Methodes.
+
dt2 ' i3
— 0
from the integration of which the following equation is
obtained, which gives the square of the velocity, namely,
dx2 + dy2 + dz2
dt2 r
r2 = x2 + 3/2 + &
+
1
— =0.,
a
•(1)
But since r2 = x2 + yz + z2? we have also, in conse¬
quence of the above three equations,
cPr dx2 + dy2 + dz2
2dt2
dt2
therefore,
cPr 2
2dt2
1
-, or
r
d?r 1 i_ i -
2dt2 r a
0....(2)
On eliminating — between the equations (1) and (2),
the problem is reduced to the solution of a quadratic.
But this method, in consequence of the smallness of the
quantities which enter into equation (2), is attended with
no practical advantage. In certain cases, when the state
of the observations is favourable, it may be employed in
finding an approximation to the value of r ; but in general
it will not give r more nearly than may be guessed at from
certain criteria established by Lambert, by means of which
we can estimate the comparative distances of the comet
and the sun from the earth. At all events it gives only an
approximation, which must be corrected by subsequent
trials
Let C°, C, C' be the places of the comet at the instants
of the first, second, and third observations respectively.
Let the interval between the first and second observations
be denoted by 0, and that between the second and third by
The reduction of the problem to the solution of a qua- 0'; then, if the epoch, or instant from which the time is
dratic equation is not new; it was already accomplished reckoned, be made to fall on the second observation, and
by Sejour, and also by Olbers. (See Delambre, Astr. du be denoted by t, the epochs of the first and third obser-
XVIIIme Siecle, p. 733.) vations will be respectively t — 0, and t + &• Next, let
In all the methods which we have here alluded to, it is x,y, z, be the rectangular co-ordinates of C referred to the
assumed that the comet moves in a parabolic orbit, and their plane of the ecliptic and a straight line drawn through S,
success is owing entirely to this assumption. But it is cer- the centre of the sun, to the first point of Aries, the ori-
tain that the true orbit of some comets, and most probably gin of the co-ordinates being at S. Similarly, let x°, y°, z°,
of all comets, is an ellipse, and not a parabola. The ques- be the co-ordinates of C°, and x!, y\ z’, those of C'. The
tion will therefore naturally suggest itself, whether it first step of the process is to find expressions for x°, y°, z°,
would not be better to investigate an ellipse at once, than and a/, y', z', in terms of x, y, z, the latter being regarded
to concern ourselves about a parabolic orbit, which, with
whatever care it may be computed, can never be perfect¬
ly exact, nor even be expected to satisfy observations
made at considerably distant intervals. To this it may
be replied, that on the first appearance of a comet it can
seldom be of any use to seek an ellipse, the computation
of which is greatly more tedious. For every practical
purpose it is sufficient to have a parabola which represents
the observations within a few seconds; first, because in
the case of a comet the observations are scarcely ever
more accurate than the computations founded on this as¬
sumption ; and, secondly, because the approximation ob¬
tained by supposing the orbit to be a parabola, will enable
us to determine the position of the node, the inclination
of the orbit, and the perihelion distance, more exactly than
we can expect to find them on the return of the comet,
the perturbations of the planets giving rise to variations
in the elements of the orbit probably exceeding the errors
of the first computation. It is enough that we are able
to recognise its identity. When this has been done we
have the periodic time, and consequently the greater axis
as functions of the time t.
By Taylor’s theorem we have
. dx 6 . d2x (P
x =x-^-i + -dF-f2-
dt
d3x
dt3'
d3x
+ , &c.
1-2-3
, dx d , d2x ff2 . d3x
x — x + dt- ! + ^2-1-2 + dt3 ' 1-2-3 +’ ’ ’
in which series the intervals 6 and P may be regarded as
so small, that the values of x° and x' will be determined
with sufficient exactness when the terms affected with the
fifth, and all the higher powers of d and 0', are omitted.
Let r°, r, r', be the three radii vectores of the comet
corresponding to the three observations, or the distances
SC°, SC, SC'. The accelerating forces acting on the co¬
met at C in the directions of the co-ordinates are express¬
ed by the equations
d2x  x cPy   y ddz  z~
df2 ~ r3’ dt2 ~ r3’ dt2 r3’
the mass of the sun being assumed to be unit, and the
mass of the comet being neglected in comparison of that
of the sun.
COMET.
By differentiating the first of the above equations, we SC in D, and let the ratio of C°D to C'D be that of A to
set Make A -f- A' = 1, and the chord C°C' — c ; we have
cPx _ dx .
dt3 r^dt
I'dv
or, by making --—k,
cPx 3k
3xr^dr 3xrdr dx
rGdt
ir’dt ridt'
1 dx
'fi' dt'
then C°D = Ac and C'D = A'c. Farther, let DC = er,
so that SD = r (1 — c), e being an infinitely small quanti¬
ty of the second order in respect of 6 and ff, which are sup¬
posed infinitesimals of the first order.
In order to find the ratio of A to A', suppose the three
points C°, D, C', to be projected on the plane of the eclip¬
tic ; then the projections of the lines C°D and C'D will
on' r ai *'xv'» wi me imes jl» anu e u will
Differentiating again, and making the necessary reductions, necessai be to one another in the same ratio as these lines
we obtain themselves, that is, as A to A'. But the co-ordinates of the
3-5-k2
+ pr)
. 2‘3'k dx
x+~-dt-
we obtain
d^x _ / 3 dk
dt^ \ r5 dt
fP'T
If we now substitute these values of —-r-, and —r,
dt2 dt3 dt3
in the foregoing series for x° and od, we shall have, on re¬
jecting the superfluous terms,
2-3k
1-2-3-4
/, J_ ^
X\ r3 ’ 1-2 r5 ‘ l-S’S/
dxf . . 1 P ,
+ di{-d + ^'T*3 +
(^ l^2, 3k (f3 \
a r3-\-2+
, 2-3k 0’4 x
)
&3
1-2-3 ’ ^
For the sake of abridging, let us assume
, _ _02 _
V ~ 2? 2r»
- . , d3 , ^04
Vr=\
ff2
2r3
and we shall have
kP
Sr6’
P
kP
Ar5 ’
, dx
x° = vx + u
dt
od ■=. v'x u'
~ dt
It is evident that y° y' and z° z' may be expressed ex- tern of eouations •
actly in the same manner; hence the co-ordinates of the Am' 4- A'?/   0 a O. A'- 1
comet at the first and third observations are given in terms ’ + Am — 0, A + A — 1. (3)
of its co-ordinates at the middle observation and their
differential co-efficients, by the following system of equa¬
tions, due to Lagrange :
From the second and third of these we get A =
o _ , dx
— VX + M —
^ dt
o . dy
y°=vy+uft
o . dz
z° — vz u —
^ dt
. .dx
xt — v'x uf —
' dt
=z v'y + u,C^
, — , , , dz
z' — v'z JL. u' —
^ dt
A' =
and consequently from the first, 1 — e
u'v — uvf %v
(1)
W M U'  M
Hence
A' =
w
-, 1—c =
v! — W v!—u ~ v! — u ^
The accuracy of the values now found of A, A', and e,
■JT VttlUCO HU vv 1UU11U Ul A, A? aim e,
If from these equations we eliminate ^^.dz , „ will depend on the number of terms of the series repre-
dP dP dP sented by m, u', and w, that are taken into account.
We shall distinguish three different degrees of approxi¬
mation.
■ vu.
find, on making w — vv!
v!x0 — ux’ = wx, u’y° — uy' — wy, u'z0 — uz’ = wz; (2)
but from the values of v, u, v', u\ given above, we have
evidently
“’ = («'+<) + + ^(«' + ey (f-e);
therefore, by eliminating v, u, and w, from equations (2),
there results
*(yv—y*°) + y (z°od—z'x°) + z(xy — x'y°) = 0,
an equation to a plane, which denotes that the three points
I. Retaining only the first terms of the series, or those
which depend on the simple powers of 0 and 0', we have
u — — 6, v! — 0', m? = 0' _j- 0, and v! — m = 0' + 0,
whence
A =
f +
A' =
f +
e = 0 ;
(5)
A d
consequently that is to say, the chord which joins
no n n/ • 1 — “■*“*' ^>unn.a y
of thp 5 a^<j.Bl,:uate^ ^be same plane with S, the origin the places of the comet at the extreme observations is di-
co-oi mates. vided, by the radius vector belonging to the middle obser-
2TottK vation, into segments proportional to the intervals between
m c ord of the arc C°C' intersect the radius the observations. This is the approximation of Newton
projections of C°, D, and C', in the direction of the axis
of x, are respectively a?°, (l —e)x, and a/,- therefore also
(1 — e)x — #0 : a/ — (1 — e) a;:: A: A',
whence
A {^—(l—e)*} = a'{(1—e)*—a?°};
and, since A + A' = 1,
Aa/ + X'x° = (1 — e) x.
Substituting in this last equation the values of a/ and x°
given by equations (1), we get
(Am' + X’v) x + (Am' + A'm) ^ = (1 — e) * y
and by proceeding in the same manner, we shall find rela¬
tively to y and z,
(X^ + X'*) 2, + (Xrf + Xu) !| = (l-e) y;
dz
(At/ + A'm)0 + (Am' + A'm) ~=(l—e) z.
In these last equations the quantities XV are
independent of any particular values of v u ti v!; they
cannot therefore hold true, unless we have also the two
equations of condition At/ -f- A'm = 1 — e, and \v! -f. Am
= 0- Joining to these the equation A -j- A' — 1, we shall
have, in order to determine A, A', and e, the following sys-
142
COMET.
Comet, and Olbers. In the method we are about to follow, the
results thus obtained serve only to direct the subsequent
calculations.
II. By including a second term of the series represent¬
ed by u, u': and w, we have
consequently,
6(rr')2
+
Gr5’
,„ = ^ + « + ^±i2,«'
i!
Gr3’
X =
(.Gfr:
ji——4
i. 6(r°r)2 )
6(r°rY
}■
V + 6-
Gr3
+
P + P
G r3 ’
whence by division,
whence
X =
6'd
Gr3
X — ■ +
6'(ff + ey
■{
{
G(rr')2
+
P
6(r°r,y
P
}
}•
u—u
ff + 6-
6P
Q’+
P — ffd + P find
6(rr/)2 6(r°r)2
By proceeding in a similar manner with respect to X', we
and therefore by division
X =
+
0 1 d'-f- 6 Gr3
In like manner, from the equation X' =
ff -
Gr3
- we find
X' =
ff
f -JL
L 6(rrf)
P
ff+b (ff+6f l G(rr')2
To find e, we have in this case
w Gr3
6(r°r')
i}
4^
(^+^) (ff—6)
X’ = ^ "
ff +6-
ff + 6-
P +
But 1
f)’ _j_ 0 Gr3
(«■ +
= i
Gr5
(^‘-O
Gr3
P_±J'6
Gr3
G?*3
(<’+<){ i - ^ (y+O (»•-»)}
(«'+<) + ^^+0(^-0}
X =
X' —
y+
+
hence, on dividing and neglecting the terms which involve
Whence we have in this case the following values of the fourth and higher powers of & and ff,
X, X', and e, namely, i _ i ffQ MO (ff — 6)
ffO /ff — 6\~] ~e~1~2?+ 2ra
0'+0\ GP ) kO , kO , c o ^ — ^3 , £
But r° = r , r' =. r + —, therefore r rr/ _ r3 ^
(6) r ~ r
7,2 A’A
(ff — 0)r —. The last term of this expression is a
quantity of the order of those that may be neglected; there-
1 i h(ff — 0)
o ff+9
2P
\ 6P J
The values of X, X', and e, thus found, will be sufficient- t-ore simply
ly exact in ordinary cases; but it will sometimes be ne- ^ ^
cessary to carry the approximation farther, and to include   :
the third terms of the series represented by u, v!, and Wr r°rr'
r3
P + k(ff — 0)r P P
Substituting this in the above expression for 1 — e, it be¬
lli. In order to obtain convenient expressions when comes
a third term of the series is taken into account, it will be _ _ off _ ffO
necessary to introduce the extreme radii vectores r° and ^ e * 2Prr,'> w^ience e 2r°rp'
¥- For this PurP°se we suPP°se ^ = dr, and r- I( fol|ows> therefore> that ^ third degree of approxi.
rdr
— r + dr; but we have already assumed h — -—jj, mation gives
, c j hdt kO
theretore dr — — — —.
r r
M
Hence
r , r°r — P ■
r
■ M,
X' =
ff+ 0
ff
+ O'O r P Oy__ |
(0'-{-0)2 \ Gfrr')2 6(r0r)2 )
ff+Q “ (^+^)2 L G(rr')
{
Q(rr'y
ff2
0*
Q(r°r)-
6(r°r)2
}
(?)
whence (r°r)2 = P
1
6(/,0r)2
In the same manner we find
1 1
- 2 kO, and consequently
i _ 2_ +
Gr3 — kkO Gr2 4r5
2r°r7J
6(r/)2
3. We now proceed to apply the above results to the so¬
lution of the problem.
Let a°, a, a', be the three geocentric longitudes of the co¬
met at the instants of the first, second, and third observa¬
tions respectively; b°, b, b', its three geocentric latitudes;
Gr3 4- bkff 6P 4r5 f° £’ the tliree curtate distances, that is to say, the three
. . * distances of the comet from the earth projected on the
Substituting these expressions in the series denoted by u piane 0f the ecliptic ; A°, A, A', the three corresponding
   * heliocentric longitudes of the earth; and It0, R, R'> the
r d2 r O'2 ■) three radii vectores of the earth. Finally, let X°l0,
i 1 — f v! — 0 )\ 3 V > XY, X'Y', be the co-ordinates of the earth, referred to the
t 6(VV)2) l Gfrr')2 J centre of the sun, so that
6P
M
4^
and we get
•— u = 0 f 1-
COME T.
X° = R° cos. A°, X =: R cos. A, X' = 'R' cos. A' 1 /Q,
Y° = 11° sin. A°, Y = R sin. A, Y' = R' sin. A' j ^
For the sake of abridging, let us assume
m° — cos. a° n° = sin. a° p° = tan. b°
n ~ sin. a p ~ tan. b
n! = sin. a' p = tan. b
m — cos. a
m! = cos. a!
:S
(12)
(13)
V = 1 —
2R3
2R3
_ P
ops"’ ^ ^ + ops "t" Tuli'
v/ = 1 !2
2R3 2R5’
and we shall have
X° = VX -F U
at
\J' = &■
2R3
2R3
4R5’
ill5’
X' = V'X + U'
dX
(it
the symbols Y, U, R, K, having now the same significa¬
tion relatively to the orbit of the earth which v, m, r, A,
had before relatively to the orbit of the comet.
In consequence of these last equations, and of the equa¬
tions (4), we have
X X' — — u^' X U^' ^
}/ X° —
(i e)x
u'V
u' — u
w
v! — u
-.X +
1/ 1
X,
v!—u dt
u'U dX
v!—u dt
and substituting these values, in the first of equations
M =
V_My/.
X +
w'U — mU'
dX
dt
Substituting now for v!, u, V, V', their values in terms of
9 and P, we obtain u'V — uV =#+ 4 — && ^ ^
but
Gr* + V2R5 + 4^3—J — 0;
(9)
■ u = d -f-
^'3 + d3 h
-
fir3
then, on transferring the origin of the co-ordinates from
the centre of the sun to the earth, we shall have relative¬
ly to the points C°, C, C',
x0 = m0g° + X° x = mS + X x' = m'g' + XA
y°=?i0s° + Y0 y = nS-±.Y ^=%Y + Y'V (10)
z° — p° g° Z = PS z=p's )
It has already been shown (2) that
X a/ -{- Y a;0 = (1 — e) x,
and it is obvious that the same condition must be fulfilled
in regard to y and z, or the projection of the chord C° C'
on the other two co-ordinate planes. Hence we have the
following system of equations :—
X a/ -f- V x° — (1 — e) x = O'j
XP + \'y°— h—e)y = 0[ (11)
X z' -P X' 2° — (1 — e) Z = 0)
Substituting in these last equations (10) the values of
x, y z, x° y° z°, xf y' z\ given in equations (9), and making
at the same time
M = XX' + X'X° — (1 — e)X)
N = XY' + X'Y° — (1 —- e)Y j
we obtain
0 = X m' / + X' ni° f — (1 — e) m g -j- M"!
0 = X n' g' + X' g° — (1 — e) re g _p N V
0 = X y g' -p X>° g° — (1 —e) Pi )
on which equations the solution of the problem essential¬
ly depends. Before we proceed to their discussion, how¬
ever, it will be necessary to find more convenient expres¬
sions for M and N.
4. In order to express X° Y°, X' Y', the co-ordinates of
the earth, which belong to the extreme observations, in a
function of the time, and of the co-ordinates X Y relative
to the time 0 = 0, let us assume, as in § 2.
re'V — reV'
2R3 ^ 2R
v! — u
In like manner we have
6 R3/
therefore, by division,
u'U — reU' _ 0'0 (0' _ 0) / 1 1 \
u’ — u 6 V73 ~ Raj'
The value of M therefore becomes
M= {‘-Sf + wd'-v}*
+
0'0 (0' _ ^) / i l\dX
6 Vr3 R3J dt’
K0'0
It will be remarked that the quantity —— J   (0’—0)
2R3 1 2R5 v 7
is exactly analogous to that which has already been de¬
noted by e. Let us therefore suppose it to be represented
by E, and the last equation will become
dX
6 V r3 R3) dt
but on rejecting quantities involving higher powers than
the third of 0 and 0', we have obviously
_ 0'0(0'-0)/l 1\
(e- E) g— -J ;
therefore ultimately
M
= (o-E) {
X +
0'— 0
dX \
’ dt j ’
Since the epoch or instant from which the time is reck¬
oned is supposed to fall on the second observation, it is
y  0
evident that —-— is the instant corresponding to the
mean time of the three observations. Let the value of
X at this instant be denoted by X1} and the corresponding
values of R and A by R, and A,, then
M = (e — E)Xj.
By proceeding exactly in the same manner with regard
to N, we shall find
N = (e — E)Y1;
therefore, on substituting for X and Y their values in
terms of R and A, we have at the mean time of the three
observations
M = (e — E) Rj cos. Ax 1
N = (e — E) Rj sjn. Aj j
(14)
2R3
5. We now r-esume the equations (13). The unknown
quantities which they contain are the three curtate distan-
ees g° g g', together with r, the radius vector of the comet,
which is involved in the values of X, X', and e. They may be
combined in various ways, and the different combinations
will afford so many different expressions for g°, g, and g',
which will be more or less easily computed according to
the circumstances of the case. The most obvious solu-
143
Comet.
therefore, by dividing, and retaining only the terms which
do not exceed the third order in respect of 0'' and 0,
u'V — uV' M K0'0
u' — u 2R3 2Rs ™
whence
COME
For this
T.
tion will be obtained by eliminating g°, g, and o
purpose the third of equations (13) gives
o _ (! —e)pi — Xp'g
^ \’p° ’
and on substituting this value of g° in the first and second
of these equations, they become respectively
0 = (tri'p0 — m0p') Xg' + (m°p — mp° ) (1 — e) £ + P°^
0 = (n'p° — n°p') Xg' + (n°p — np°) (1 — e) g + P°N*
On eliminating X g' from the two equations now found,
we get
_ p° (rip° — ny) M — (rriy0 — m°pf) N __
? “ \ire(m'p0—m0p')(n0p—np° )—(m0p—mf)(p>:f-~n0pr)
| R2 + 2gRcos.(A —a)-f
COS.26
}3.(^
+ R^)2-A2Rf>, Come:
an equation which becomes by reduction
1 (m°hJ — w°M) / — (m'N — n'M)p
-e (m'ri
mn°)pr
1—e {m'n0—m0ri!)p + (mn'—m'n)p° + (m°n
and on restoring the values of M, 1m, m, n,p, &c. given by
equations (14) and (9), and recollecting that sin. {x — y)
— sin. x cos. y — cos. x sin. y, we get
x
sin. (AI—a') tan. b°
sin. (A, — a°) tan.^/
sin(a°—fif)tan.& 4" sin.(a'-—a)tan.i° + sin.(a a )tan.6
Let us assume
P^sin^Aj—a°)tan.&'—sin^A!—a')tan.&°
Q=sin.(a°—a')tan.& + sin.(a'—a)tan.6° + sir
this assumption gives
U y, L
Rr
P
Q'
1 — e
an equation of the eighth degree in respect of the un¬
known quantity g. It is evident, however, that on be¬
ing developed, A2 R6 will disappear from both sides of it,
after which the whole will be divisible by g; it belongs,
therefore, in fact, only to the seventh degree. On being
resolved by approximation it will give a value of g, but in
practice it is more commodious to determine r and g simul¬
taneously from the equations (16) and (17), by the or¬
dinary methods of false position.
7. Although the equations (16) and (17) thus appear
to lead to a complete solution of the problem, it seldom
happens in practice that an orbit can be determined in
this manner. The reason of this is, that the quantity
which we have represented by Q is always very small (it
is not difficult to prove that it is of the third order in re¬
spect of 6), and liable to be greatly affected by the errors
of observation. If Q = 0, we have the equation
sin.(a°—a')tan.£ + sin.(a'—a)tan.£° + sin.(a—ao)tan.A,=0,
which denotes that the three apparent places of the comet
are situated in the same great circle of the sphere. Ihe
value of Q therefore depends solely on the deviation of the
comet s apparent path from a great circle of the heavens,
during the short interval between the extreme observa¬
tions ; and this deviation is in general so small, that a
slight error of observation, which it is impossible to guard
against, may cause it to become evanescent, or even to
change its sign. On this account the equation (16), which
is called by Legendre the doubtful equation, can only be
employed in very favourable circumstances; and it be¬
comes necessary, in the greater number of cases, to have
’ ’ ~ ‘ Some conclusions
but on carrying the approximation only to quantities of the recourse to other methods of solution
out on carrying ^ ^ / 1 _ J_\ may, however, be deduced from it, which will materially
third order in respect of the time, y  - — y (y — jyj 1 assist in guiding the subsequent calculations.
In the first place, as the curtate distance g is necessari-
d'$PR • HI
therefore if we make = h, the last equation will
become
i =
(16)
6. The equation which has now been obtained contains
two unknown quantities g and r ; but another equation be¬
tween the same variables may be readily found from the
equations (10). These give, on restoring the values of m,
n, p, X, and Y x
x = 6 cos. a -f- R cos' A,
y — b sin. a -f- R sin. A,
z = g tan. b,
whence, by squaring and adding
x2 + ^2 + Z2 = + tan.2&) + 2gR cos.(A —«) + R2;
i 1
but x2 + y2 + z2 — r2; and 1 + tan. 2b =
ly a finite quantity, if the denominator of the fraction ex¬
pressed by h vanishes, that is, if Q — 0, the numerator
must vanish at the same time. Now this can happen only
in two ways: either by supposing P = 0, or =r -gy
If we suppose P — 0, we have the equation
sin. (A! — a0) tan. b! — sin. (Aj — a’) tan. b° = 0,
which indicates that the place of the sun at the instant
-, corresponding to the mean time of the three obser-
cos.2A
(17)
therefore
r2 = R2 + 2g R cos. (A — a) + —y;
We have now arrived at two equations between r and g,
by means of which the values of those quantities become
In order to eliminate r, let equation (16) be put
vations, is situated in the same great circle of the sphere
with the three apparent places of the comet. Now it is easy
to see, that although the sun may not be exactly in the same
great circle with the three apparent places of the comet,
yet if it is near one of the intersections of that circle with
the ecliptic, the quantity P will be very small, and the
equation (16) in consequence will not lead to any satisfac¬
tory result.
In the second place, if Q vanishes while the value ot r
continues so great that its sign would not be changed by
supposing its component parts to vary to the extent of the
errors of observation, we must then have = gg, or r _
known.
under the form
r3 + R3g) - £R3,
the square of which is
r6 (A + R3g)2 r= A2 RG;
then, by substituting in this the value of r6 given by equa¬
tion (17) raised to the cube, there results
R; that is to say, the comet and the earth are at the same
distance from the sun. This circumstance, therefore, also
renders equation (16) indeterminate. It may be remarked,
however, that in this case wre obtain an easy approxima¬
tion to the value of g from equation (17), which, when r
is equal to R, becomes
o r= 2 R cos.2 b cos. (180 -f- A — a),
COMET.
145
where 180 -{- A is the longitude of the sun at the instant the motion of the comet in longitude is greater than its Comet,
of the middle observation. motion in latitude. "
In the third place, when the quantities P and Q are It may be proper to remark, that on employing the
both so great that their signs can be determined without equations (18) or (19) to determine the ratio of the cur-
ambiguity, equation (16) will show whether the distance tate distances, we may suppose in the first trials e=0,
of the comet from the sun is greater or less than the ra¬
dius vector of the earth. For since £ is necessarily posi- E = 0, X =:
X'
tive, the sign of must be the same as that of e — E or
1 1 . p .
__ — — ; consequently, the sign of being known, we
also know whether r is greater or less than R.
8. Since the state of the observations will seldom per-
r + D & -\-
equations (19) become simply
0 _ 0' + 0 js sin. (a'— a )'
^ & sin. (a' — a°)
,  (f 6 g sin. (a — a°)
On this supposition the
(20)
s 0 sin. (a! — a ),
. 11. From what has now been shown it may be inferred
mit equation (16) to be employed with advantage, it be- t]laf (;]le equations (13) can in general be used only in de-
comes necessary to attempt some other combination of the termining the ratios of g° and g' to g; on account of the
three fundamental equations (13). Instead of eliminating smallness and consequent uncertainty of the denominator
the three curtate distances g, g°, g' from these equations, Q, they leave the absolute value of g indeterminate. It is
we may determine two of them, tor example g° and g', in therefore necessary to seek some other equation among
terms ol the third, g; by which means we shall obtain at the variables employed, before we can obtain a complete
least the latios of these distances to one another, ibis solution of the problem. For this purpose we must have
may be effected in various ways ; but we shall confine our
selves to the two following combinations, the one or other
of which will be applicable in every case.
Let the first of the equations (13) be multiplied by N,
and the second by M ; the difference of the products is
recourse to some of the properties connected with the co¬
met’s motion in its orbit. No hypothesis has as yet been
made respecting the nature of the orbit. If we suppose
it to be a parabola, the laws of parabolic motion will give
a new equation, without introducing any other variable
Xg'(N»f—M?j') -f- X'g°(Nw0—MA°)—(1—e)g(Nm—Mm)—0. than those which have already been employed, which may
(18)
Combining this with the third equation, so as to elimi¬
nate first g' and then g°, we get
__(1 —e)g (Nto — Mm) pi — (Nm' — Mm')^>
^ X' (Nm° — Mm°) jt/ — (N/m' — Mm') p°
(1 —e)g (Nmi° — Mm°) p — (Nm — Mm) p°
X (Nm° — Mm0)// — (Nm' — Mm') p° ’
and, on substituting the values of M, N, m, &c. before
found,
0_(1—e)g sin.(Aj—«)tani>'—sin^Aj—a')tan.3
^ X' ‘sin.(A1—a°)tani/—sin.(Aj—a')tanA°
(_(1—e)g sin.(Ax—a°)tan.6—sin.(Aj—a) tan A
X sin^Aj—a°)tan.6'—sin.(Ax—a') tan.6°
These two equations will give the ratios , in all
g g
cases when the common denominator (the quantity we that is,
have already denoted by P) is not so small as to render
the expressions indeterminate. In general they will be
most applicable when the motion of the comet in latitude
is greater than its motion in longitude.
The other combination to which we have alluded, is
formed by employing only the two first of the equations
(13). Let the first be multiplied by m', and the second
by ml; the difference of the products gives
0 _ (1 — e) g (/mm' — win) -f- Nm' — Mm'
X' (m°n' — m’n°)
In like manner, if we multiply the first by m°, and the se¬
cond by m°, in order to eliminate g°, we find
, _ (1 — e) g (m°M — mn°) -f Nm° — Mm°
either be combined with equation (16), for the purpose of
determining r and g directly, or which may be employed
to correct the results obtained by assigning a hypothetical
value to g in the equations (18) or (19). There are va¬
rious methods of introducing the condition derived from
the nature of the parabolic motion; but, in the method of
solution which we here follow, it is most convenient to
employ the theorem of Lambert, which gives the time of
describing a parabolic arc in terms of its chord, and the two
radii vectores drawn to its extremities. Before demon¬
strating this theorem, however, it wall be proper to show
howr the chord may be computed.
Let c be the chord which joins C0C'. The co-ordinates
of its extremities being x'y’z', x0y°z0, we have
c2 = (x!—x°)2 + (y — ?/0)2 + (z'—z0)2
= x''2 + y2 + z'2 + x°'2 + y°2 -p z02
— 2x'x° — Zy'y0 — 2z'z° ;
I £
X (;m°m' — m!n°)
On substituting the values of M, N, m, m, &c. in these
last equations, they become
_ (1—e)g. sin.(a'—a) (e—E)Rxsin.(Ax—a')'
X' sin. (a' — a°)
(1—e)g. sin.(q—a°)—(e—EjRTsin.fA,—a°)
X sin. (a' — «°)
flie equations now found will be most applicable when
VOL. vix.
(19)
2 — r-2 _}_ r°2 — g (x'x° + y'y° + z'z°).
But by reason of the equations (8) and (10),
x'x° — tjfm'm0 + Mi0g°R' cos. A' + m'g'R° cos. A° +
R'R° cos. A' cos. A°,y'y° — ^0n’n° + M°g0R' sin. A +
M'g'R0 sin. A0 + R'R° sin. A' sin. A°, and z'z° = £fp'p0,
therefore, by adding and substituting for m, n, p, &c. their
values given in equations (9)
xlx° + y’y0 + z'z0 = g'g° cos. (al—a°) + g°R' cos. (A'—a0)
+ g'R° cos.(A°— a!)
+ g'g° tan. V tan. IP -l-R'R0cos.(A'—A° )
hence, denoting the right hand side of this equation
by F,
c2 — r'2 -j- r02 —2F. (21)
Comparing this last equation with
c2 =: P2 + r°2 — 2r'r° cos. p,
which is given by the triangle C°SC', we have F — r'r°
F
cos. p, or cos. © = p—, p being the angle included between
the two radii vectores P and r°.
12. We now proceed with the demonstration of Lam¬
bert’s theorem.
According to the doctrine of central forces, when a
x
146
COMET.
Comet, body describes an orbit in virtue of a force varying in-
versely as the square of the distance, the square of the
velocitv at the distance r is given by the equation
Again, the triangle C^SC' gives the equation
c2 = r72 + r°2 — 2)-'r° cos. p,
Coir.,
but tan. -t <p — v; therefore, from the trigonometrical for-
1 1 _ dx1 , dtf1
r a dt2 dt1"1
mulae, cos. <p —
in which a is the major axis of the orbit, and the sum of
the masses is supposed equal to unit. In the case of the
parabola, the major axis is infinite, and the equation be¬
comes simply
1 __ doc2 , d}f
r ~ dt1 dt2%
1 + v2
(y + r0)2 — c2
„ whence, substituting and reducing,
4rV°
Let D be the perihelion distance SP, and -v]/ tlie true an®"
maly, or the angle PSC. We have then x — r cos. y,
, dx3 , dy3 _dr2 + r2dy nnn
y = r sin. ^ whence + ^2 ~ —^2 ’ and con
sequently
dt2 ‘ dt2
2  dr2 + r2d^
1 + v2
For the sake of abridging, we shall put
^ y r° c — 2s, i* + r° — c — 2d,
whence P + r° = s + d, c = s — d, and (/ + r°)2 —c2
= ksd. Comparing these with the above equation, we
r'r° (r!r° — sd)2
have c—v—-0 = sd, whence v = j 
1 + v* (sd)2
Now the polar equation to the parabola gives
»=D ( H- u°y, / = D (1 + ««) = D.
r dt2
But from the property of the parabola r — 2D — r cos. ;
whence r (1 + cos. = 2D, or r cos.2 = D, there¬
fore
therefore sd —
rV° _D0(l + u°‘2)
1 + v‘2
1 + u02 _ (sd)2
1 — u°v D
and consequently,
r = D (1 + tan.2 ^).
Let tan. ; then dr — %Dudu ; and du cog>21.^
2du
From the same values of r° and P we get
( \ + v2
P + r° = D(l +u°2) 1 1 +
.1
= 1^(1 + tan‘2 whence d^ = Substitut
2  dr2 + ^dy2
(1 — u°v)2 j
_ 2D (1 + m°2) , De2 (1 + u°2)2
1 U°V 1 — u°v ’
ing these expressions in the equation - — 
it
but P + r° — s + P, and
1 + u°2 V sd
becomes dt2 = 2D3 (1 + u2)2 du2, whence dt — V2D3
1 — u°v
D
-, therefore
(1 -f u2) du; which, on being integrated, becomes
t = V2D3 (u + ±u3).
Let ii°, u’ be the values of u in this equation at the
times £+$’,£ — d respectively; we have then
t + VZD3 (u' + ^u13)
V2D3 (u° + ±u°3),
and, by subtracting,
ff + 6 = V2D^ {u' — u° + —m0)}.
In order to transform this expression into another con¬
taining only rV and c, let -vj/0 be the anomaly correspond- or
ing to C°, ^ that corresponding to C', <p — ^ — y° =
angle C°SC', and tan. = v. We have then -4/' — '4'° +
. v2ysd , /r. *>/s
s -{■ d — 2Vsd -i g—, whence v = \/D •
V sd
1 “j- ZfP ^
Substituting these values of v and ^ 7^ in the equa-
1 — u°v
tion for the time, it becomes
d + 0' = a/2Vsd(ys — A/d) | 1 + ^ ^ } ’
that is
d + 6' = ~ (a/s — Vd) (5 + + d),
a/2 § 2
+ — (s3 — d3) ;
angle anu urn. ■jjf' — v. vr e nave uien J
and consequently tan. ^ ^ — tan’ 2 ('4° "i" ?*) “ and, finally, on restoring the values of s and d,
tan. •^'4^° -p tan. % <p u° v _ _ . - & j~ tr — L tr> -i- r° A- — 4 (P -1- r° — c
-, that is, u
f __ u° v
■ u°v
1 — tan. tan. tp’
put
7a— v! — u° + (u'3 — u°3),
we shall have evidently
Now, if we
0 -j- 0' = A (P + P3 -P c) — 1 (P + P5 — c) (24)
Z = (u’ — u°) {l -p ys (id1 + u'u° + m02)}
= (u’ — u°) {1 — J [(«' — m0)2 + 3m'm°] }’
11° V
therefore, substituting ^for u',
1 — u°v
Z -
V (1 + M02)
1  u‘
that is,
r7_V(l + «o2)2f
’ °v)2 \
f02) f 1 'li°2 u°v J 1 ^S(I + W°2)2 "l _
4T-\ 1 — u°v 1 3 (1—tl°v)2 J ’
This is the very elegant theorem found by Euler, but
commonly attributed to Lambert, by means of which we
are enabled to correct the hypothetical values successively
given to g, till a value of that quantity is found which will
satisfy all the equations as nearly as the observations will
admit. .
13. We shall now collect into one view the ditferent
processes indicated in the preceding investigations; and
in order to throw every necessary light on the subject, we
shall give at the same time an example of the actual com¬
putation of an orbit from Legendre. The comet is that
of 1805, and the data from which the computation is made
are contained in the following table:
(1
1-P A
V2 (1 + uo2) \ _
1 — u°v j 5
hence the formula for the time becomes
^ (1 — u°v)2 \ 3 1 11° V )
Epochs.
October 22*68488
30*68670
34*72088
Longitudes.
a0 = 163° 20' 53"
a = 183 48 32
a1 = 191 46 15
Latitudes.
b° = 22° 59' 53"
b = 15 37 21
ly = 12 2 29
apt-
COMET.
6 = 9-1387708
6 + 9' = 9-3160643
6' — 8-8413373
6 + 6' = 9-3160643
6+6
= 9-8227065
6 + 6'
9-5252730
given in the formulae (6.) In the present case, on account
of the great inequality between 6 and 6', the values of f
and g deduced from the supposition of E = 0, e = 0, &c.
would not have that degree of approximation which would
render them of any use in directing the subsequent hypo¬
theses ; we may therefore have recourse at once to the se¬
cond degree of approximation. The formulae (6) give
-E v - 6ff
6~ 2^ 2R3’
6
/ 6'(6-6')\ 6' /
i” l1 x-mti-f1 +
6 + 6’’ \ Gr3
from which we deduce
1 —c
X
1—e
X'
+
6f(26 + 6’)\
dr3 )’
6(26’ + 6)^
Gr3
It may be here remarked, that although the computa¬
tions are considerably shortened when 6 = 6', a condition
which may in general be satisfied by interpolation, yet it
is preferable to avoid any preliminary calculations, and to
employ the direct results of observation. The intervals,
however, should not be greatly different; and as the so¬
lution is founded on the supposition that quantities of the
fourth order in respect of the time may be neglected, the
longest interval cannot safely exceed ten days. In the
present example, 6 is considerably greater than 6'; it there¬
fore affords no facilities for computation, and the approxi¬
mations must be carried as far as the method admits.
II. The places of the sun at the time of the respective
observations are next to be taken from the solar tables.'
These places, increased by 180°, give the three longitudes
of the earth A°, A, A'. The same tables also give the
corresponding distances R , R, R ; and the quantities A2 Jn order to convert these formulae into numbers, we
and R which denote the longitude and radius vector of must recollect that if 6 is a small number in comparison
the earth at the time £ -f- ^ (0 + 0), corresponding to the - 1
mean epoch of the three observations, will be obtained with
sufficient accuracy by assuming Aj = 4 (A° -{- A + A'),
and log. Rj x log. (R°RR').
At the epochs given in the above table, we find from
the solar tables,
A0 = 29° 19' 50" log. R°...9-997421
A =37 19 48 log. R ...9-996496
A' =41 22 26 log. R'...9-996053
By taking a mean among these numbers we shall have
Aj =36° 0' 41"
log. Ri... 9-9966567.
e
X
E
X
dj+D
2r3 ’
[6 + 6')
2R3 ’
e
X'
_E
X'
6 + ff)
2r3 ’
2R3 '
of a, we have log. (a -f 6) = log. a + ^ M, where M de¬
notes the modulus of the tables, or the number 4342945,
the logarithm of which is 6-6377843; and reciprocally, if
we have log. x ’ ’ ’ ’
log. a + l/, then x = a + —. Accord¬
ing to these formulae
1 1 — e . 6 + 6'
log. —— log. ——-
6’(26 + ?)
Now log.
X
+ 6’ _
Gr3
M.
0*1772935; and to find the number
III. With the results now found, we may proceed to ^26 + 6’)
•mpute the quantities P, Q from the expressions given in ■ - ^— M, we have 26 + 6' = 20*03782 days, therefore
§ 5, namely,
P = sin. (Aj—a°) tan. 6'—sin. (Aj — a') tan. 5°
Q = sin. (a° — a') tan. 6 + sin. (a' — a) tan. 6° +
sin. (a — a0) tan. #.
For this purpose the following logarithms are required:
sin. (o' —a ) 9-1414978 tan. 6° 9-6278110
sin. (ft' —ft°) 9-6775831 tan. 5 9-4465812
sin. (ft ~a°) 9-5435305 tan. 1/ 9-3290147
sin. (ft' —A1) 9-6133857
sin. («° — A1) 9-9004139
On computing P and Q by means of these numbers, we
find P =: 0-0046585, and Q = 0-0002617. The signs of
both are positive, and though Q is thus a very small num¬
ber, yet its sign could not become negative without sup-
log. (26 + 6') = 1-3018505
add 8-2355821
log. 6' = 8-8413373
8-3787699
log. 6= 0-7781513
, 6(26 + 6')
7-6006186
If therefore we denote by (L) the number whose loga¬
rithm is L, we shall have
1 — c M
    = 0-1772935 — (7-6006186) ;
lot
147
I. The first step is to compute the arc described by the posing errors in the observations amounting to four or five Comet
mean motion of the earth m the time 0 + 0. Let this arc minutes. By reason of the smallness of P and Q no use v—
be represented by 0; then since 0 and 0' are expressed in can be made of the equation (16) ; we can only infer from
_2ff (0 + 0) since P and Q have the same sign, that r < R ; that is
mean solar days, we have © - 2* being the to say, the distance of the comet from the sun is Jess than
the sun’s distance from the earth.
circumference of a circle whose radius is unit, and IV. it is now necessary to make a supnosition with ro-
365-25638 the mean solar days in a sidereal year. The gard to the value g. In general a few trials mil suffice to give
logarithm of ® will therefore be found by adding the an approximate value, by means of which p° and c' mnv ho
constant logarithm 8-,.355821 (which is the logarithm of computed from the formulae (19) or (20), according tcfthe
to the logarithm of t + f. d!fferent “+ In the *+ trials've + sllPP“e E = 0,
365-25638/ n . _ 6 v _ g , .
From the above table we have 0 = 8-00182 days, * 0+0'’ 0 + 0'’ 1(?n aPi)10xlmatl°ns
0’ — 4-03418 days, 0 + 0' = 12-03600 days ; hence taking f° the values of g° and g' have been obtained on this sup-
the logarithms of these numbers, and adding 8-2355821, position, we must employ the more exact expressions
we have the following results expressed in logarithms ; eiven in the formnim 7fi.i In thp nrpspnr pqco ™
COMET.
and passing to numbers
= (0-1772935) — (7-7779121) L
By proceeding in the same manner, we find
log> = 0-4747270 — (7-8022223)
whence
1
= (0-4747270) — (8-2769493) -
X' V ' ' ' r*
The following logarithms are found without difficulty:
log. - = log. = 7-8563716
° x 2
log. = log. = 8-1538051
X'
log. | = log.
2r3
6'(0 + O _
= 7*8668836
l°g-77= l0g-
= 8-1643171.
2R3
2R3
In the present example the motion in longitude is more
considerable than in latitude ; it is therefore preferable to
employ the equations (20), namely,
n — e) gsin. (a' — a) + (E — e) Rt sin, (a' At)
^ =  X' sin. (a'-a0)
-e) g sin. (a — a°) 4~ (g — E) R, sin, (a0 Aj ) _
X sin. (a' — a°)
to compute which, the following logarithms are requirec..
in addition to those already found, namely,
sin.(a' —aj_ =9-4639147
r02 = 0*9881934 — f(0*1403596) + f2(0-0719354), Conw
r°' = 0-9819876 — ( (0*2363369) + f (0-0193249).
Tlie chord c is determined by the equation
^ = Z2 + r° —2F,
in which F —
R°R'cos. (A'—A°) + £=j'{cos. (a’ — a°) + tan. 5’ tan.6°}
+ f R' cos. (A'—a°) + S’E3 cos. (A° — a')*
On taking the logarithms of the constant quantities, this
becomes
F = 0-963404‘2
Lastly, the error of the hypothesis will be found from
the equation of the time
6(*+ <0 = (^ + *' + c)2 + (r3 + S—cf = 1-2422687.
As the present object is merely to illustrate the method
of computation, it is unnecessary' to begin with an assump¬
tion very far from the truth. Suppose, in the first place,
- — 0*6 = (9-7781512). This will give the following re¬
sults :
r? = 0*3797624 = (9*5795120), r = (9*7897560)
f = (9*6695087), o' = (9*8389800)
r0- = 0*6003290 = (9-7783893)
r- = 0*2906613 = (9*4634172)
rz- + r*2 = 0*8909903
2F = 0*7537670
log.
lot
log.
log.
sin. («'-
R j sin. (a' ■
•«°)
"Al^-9-9324593
sin. (a':— a°)
sin, (a — ff°)_ _ 9.3059474
sin. (a' — a°)
Rj sin. (a°—A
=0-2194875,
1 —e
, &*c. the above two
sin. (a' — a°)
by adding which to the values of
equations become
f = ^(9-9386417) — i (7-7408640)
+ (8-0967764) — ^ (8-0862644)
= ^(0-0432409) — i (7-6438595)
— (8*0863711) + ^ (8-0758591)
V. Having assumed a hypothetical value of p. the ra¬
dius vector r will be obtained from the equation (17),
r2 = R2 + 2gR cos. (A —a) + f sec.2 b,
which, on taking the logarithms of the known quantities,
becomes
r2 = 0-9839930 — ^ (0*2185267) + f (0-0326962) ;
and on substituting this value of r in the above two equa¬
tions, we shall obtain the values of f and g'.
It is now necessary to calculate r°, r', and c. With
regard to r° and r', we have the two equations, correspond¬
ing to equation (17),
ro2 — ro2 + 2g°R0 cos. (A° — a°) + g02 sec.2 b°,
r'2 = R'2 = 2^R'cos. (Ax — aO + g'2 sec.2 fr,
which being reduced to numbers, become
c2 = 0*1372233 = (9-1374278)
= (9*8891946) = 0*7748089
r' = (9*7317086) = 0*5391475
r° + r'  = 1*3139564
c = (9*5687139) = 0*3784366
r0 + 7' + e = «= 1-6843930
r* + r* —c = b = 0*9435208
— 2*1860775
b* = 0*9164888
a‘- — b2 = 1*2695887
but 6(i) + tT) = 1-2422687
Error -f *0273200
For a second hypothesis let us make g = 0*58 =
(9*7634280>. On going through the same calculations,
there will result
r° + 7'-j-c = a= 1*6833303, = 2*1840703
r° + rJ — c=b = 0*9631377, b2 = 0*9452192
a# _ = 1-2388511
6(«) + 0 = 1-2422687
Error — *0034176
Let n =
•0034176
— = 0*11119, then the true
•02732 + *0034176
value of anv quantity which is denoted by A in the first
hypothesis, and by B in the second, will be B — n (B A).
Computing from this formula, there results,
r = (9*6569463) r° = (9*8906184)
g =(9*7650651) r =(9*7935971)
e- = (9*8259598) r' = (9*7362737)
c = (9*5577858).
VL In most cases the solution which has now been ob¬
tained would be sufficiently approximate ; but in the pre¬
sent case, on account of the great inequality between
COME T.
149
2!b
the intervals 6 and (f, it is necessary to recommence the
calculations, and to determine a. a', and e from the more
accurate expressions which form the third degree of ap¬
proximation. Let
6(rV)2
log. X = log. (j _|_ J ) — ,, + ,,
log.X' = log.(5-^-r) +
the equations (7) give
ff
0 +
&
e —
a, e =
AT
2R-RR
tl + A’
from which, employing the approximate values of r°, r,
and r', already obtained, there results
5 =(7-3643107), (e—E) = (8-1338552),
X = (9-8219310), (1 — e ) = (9-9919393),
X' = (9-5268112).
If we now proceed to substitute these results in the
equations (17), we shall find the following expressions
for f and o :
= |(9-9290428) — (8-5415033),
g = 0-0359557) — (8-5334117),
in which the only indeterminate quantity is a We must
now make another hypothesis with respect to a If we
assume the value given by the last approximation, name¬
ly p = (9-7650651), we shall find that it is considerably
too small, and that the first approximation is consequent¬
ly insufficient, owing to the imperfect values it gave of
the quantities X and X’, and e.
Let us suppose e — 0-6045 = (9-7813963). By pro¬
ceeding as before with the corrected values now found,
we obtain
s° = (9-6799602), / = (9-8393705),
r°2 = 0-5973194 =*(9-7762067)
r°2 = 0-290501 = (9-4631582)
c2 = 0-1313662 = (9-1184836)
whence
r° + r, + c = a = 1-6742972,
r° + r' — c -b = 0-9494078,
a2 = 2-1664512
b^ = 0-9250798
a2 —b2 = 1-2413714
6(iJ + <0 = 1-2422687
Error — -0008973
Suppose, therefore, » = 0-6055 = (9-7821141). Comput¬
ing as above, we shall find
r°-pr'-|-czzarr 1-6742754, a2 = 2-1664090
r° + i'—c = b = 0-9485938, b- = 0-9238902
a2 — b- = 1-2425188
6(d + <») = 1-2422687
Let n = ——
2501
Error + -0002501
— 0*218; the mean between the
89/3 + 2o01
two values of the same quantity in the two hypotheses is
B + (A — B) (0-218), bv taking which, there results
r° = (9-8880427), r = (9-7886828), / = (9-7314028).
These values being considerably different from those found
by the first approximation, it becomes necessary to have
recourse to a third operation.
The values of X, X', and 1 — e, deduced from the values
of r°, r, r' now found, are
X = (9-8219155), X'= (9*5268419), l — e = (9-9918188).
In order to find a more exact value of than results
from taking the mean of the three longitudes of the earth, Comet,
we may make use of the equations (13), namely,
0 = X»/V + XV«Y — (1 — e) mo + M,
0 = + X'n0p° —(1 — e) ri£ + N,
in which M = (e — E) R j cos. A ^ = cr cos. A15
N = cr sin. Aj, and we shall have in the present example
cr cos. A, = X(9-8713530) + XY9-9378419) — (1 — e)
(9-8969484)
cr sin. Aj = X(9-8162347) + X'(9-68748J9) — (1 — e)
(9-7792587)
whence, substituting for X, X', and (1 — e), the above
values,
cr cos. Ai = (8-0399020), tan. At = (9-8969484)
cr sin. A) = (7-9115731), Aj =36° 39' 20",
cr = (8-1355982).
The value of A15 thus found, differs considerably from
that which was employed in the previous approximation,
namely, Aj = 36° O' 41".
On substituting cr for (e — E) Rj, the equations (20)
become
_ (1 — e) p sin, (a1 — a) — cr sin. (a'—Aj)
X' sin. (a' — a°) ’
sin. (a'— a) — cr sin. (a° — Aj)
f-
v -n—c)g
X sin. (a' — a0)
whence, making Aj = 36° 39' 20",
£° = ^(9 9288916) — (8-5552427),
p’ = p(0-0358507) + (8-5401948),
from which two equations we shall obtain the nearest ap¬
proximation of which this method of solving the problem
is susceptible.
Suppose p = (9-7790000). On going through the same
computation as before, we shall find
r°-pr'-j-c — a — 1-6758479,
r° -f-r' — c — b = 0-9509163,
a2 = 2-1694623
= 0-9272854
a2 — b2 = 1-2421769
6(d + ^) = 1-2422687
Error —918
Suppose, secondly, g = (9-7791000). This supposition will
give
r°4-r,-j-c — a = 1-6758426,
c = b= 0-9508021,
a2 = 2-1694511
b^= 0-9271186
a2 — b2 = 1-2423325
6(6 + ff) = 1-2422687
Error + 638
From these errors, the mean to take between A and B,
the two values of the same quantity in the two hypo¬
theses, is B + (A — B) (0-41), whence the following
solution :
= (9-6762680), r° = (9-8884811) = 0-77353695,
j' = (9-83738895), / = (9-7322409) = 0-53981000,
c = (9-5593056) = 0-3624980.
VI. It now remains only to indicate the method of com¬
puting, from the foregoing solution, the elements of the
parabolic orbit.
V iJr° — sd
It was shown in § 12 that v = tan. ^<p
V sd
a/ s —— cl
and also that v — -y/D • ——=r—. Comparing these
Vsd
150
COME T.
Comet.
values, yVr0 —sd — V’D {Vs V,f/),and, consequently}
^  dr0 — sd  (s — r°) (.? — /)
V dy1 {Vs V d)2
Having obtained the perihelion distance D, the true ano¬
maly •4/° of the point C° will be given by the equation of
the parabola, namely, r° cos.
compute the heliocentric latitudes and longitudes. Let a0
1
Con;
•21-4,° = (~-
2 = D, from which
— r0') (s — /)
( \/s — \/d)
The calculation of D and •4/’ is as follows :
±(r° + r’ + c) = s = (9-9232039)
' J + r' — c) =z d = (9-6770815)
s _ r° = (8-80878805)
s — / = (9-47438015)
iO
(s — r°) (s —/) = (8-2831682)
Vd = (9-8385407) = (9-9616019)
^ = (9-8769388) = -7532495
l_\/d_ .2467505
Vs
(9-39225808)
= (9-9616019)
  //\
x/s — Vd = VHl =) = (9-35385998)
(Vs—VdT = (8-70771996)
(s — r°) (s — r1) = (8-2831682)
a’ be the heliocentric longitudes of the points C° and C';
/S°, jS' their heliocentric latitudes; then, denoting for an
instant by o' the comet’s distance from the sun, we shall
have r sin. (3 =■ a sin. b ; but a — ^ sec. b, therefore
p°
7-sin. B = 2_tan. b°, whence
r
sin. j30 = ~ tan. b°, sin. /3' — ^ tan. b.
These two formulae, which are very easily computed, give
the heliocentric latitudes at the extreme observations.
In the present case they become
sin. jS0 = (9-4155979), sin. /3' = (9-4341627).
Now, to compute the heliocentric longitudes, let us sup¬
pose K to be the projection of C on the plane of the ecliptic.
In the rectilinear triangle ESK, formed by joining the po¬
sitions of the earth, the sun, and the projected place of
the comet, we have EK = g; SK = r cos. /3; the angle
ESK, opposite to EK, = a — A, the difference between
the heliocentric longitude of the comet and the longitude
of the sun ; and the angle KES, opposite to SK, =a — A,
the difference between the geocentric longitude of the
comet and the longitude of the sun ; therefore
g : r cos. (3 : : sin. (a — A) : sin. (a — A),
from which, since - — ,, we deduce for the first and
r tan. b
third observations,
sin. (a0 — A°)
tan. /3°
tan. b°
sin. (a — A),
D = (9-5754482)
r° = (9-8884811)
sin.
(«'
A!) - sin. (a!— A').
cos.2 l-4,° = (9-6869671)
tan. 14, = (0-0118412).
Having thus obtained the perihelion distance and the
true anomaly, we must now find the time required for de¬
scribing this anomaly. For this purpose it is usual to em-
tan. b'
In the present case these formulas become
sin.(a° — A°) = (9-6598371), sin. (a'—A') = (9-8155230)
a° — A° = 27° 1P 18", a!—A! = 40° SO715H5
A0 = 29 19 50, A' =41 22 26
= 59 31 8
t! = 82 12 41-45
_ _ Let N be the ascending node, y its longitude, and I the
ploy a table constructed from the following property of inciination of the orbit. In the spherical triangle NCK,
Hnriips mrtvincr in a narnKnlin nrhit niimol \i if T1 a ml tin ‘ ' "
bodies moving in a parabolic orbit, namely, if T and T' be
the times of describing the same anomaly in two parabo¬
las whose perihelion distances are respectively D and D',
then T : Tr : : D- : D'2. Hence, if a table is formed
showing the time T' in which every degree, &c. is de¬
scribed in a parabola whose perihelion distance is D' = 1,
it will give the time T' in which the same anomaly is de¬
scribed in tbe parabola whose perihelion distance is D, by
5
simply multiplying the tabular .time by D2 ; for when
D'2.
the side NK = a — 7, CK = /3, and the angle CNK = I.
Therefore, by Napier’s analogies, cot. I = cot. /3 sin.
(a — 7), which, on substituting the longitudes a0 and a',
gives the double equation
cot. I = cot. /3° sin. (a° — 7) = cot. /?' sin. (a — 7);
from which we have
sin. (a° — 7) _ tan. /30
sin. (a' — 7) tan. /S'
7) + sin. (a! — 7) _ tan. j3° + tan.
whence
sin. (a1
sin. (a° — 7) — sin. (a' — 7) — tan. f3° — tan. j3'
But if A and B represent two arcs, then, by the trigono¬
metrical formulae,
sin. A + sin. B _ tan. l(A + B)
sin. A — sin. B tan. ^ (A — B)’
D' = 1, we have T = D2T'. The'time T must be added
to the epoch of the first observation, if the comet is ap¬
proaching the perihelion of its orbit, but subtracted from
that epoch if it has already passed the perihelion.
But instead of employing a table of parabolic motion,
the time may be computed directly from the formula
T = V2D (tan. V ^ tan.3 \<f),
observing to add to the logarithm of T the constant loga- tan. A + tan. B _ sin. (A + B)
rithm 1-7644179 (the compliment of 8-2355821), in order tan A — tan B — sin (A. — B) ’
that T may be expressed in mean solar days. t ^ >
Computing from this formula, there results in the pre- Wllence the above e9uatlon becomes
sent case, _   tan. {! (a° + <*') — 7} = sin. (/S' + /3°)
T = 26-35895 l (a!u°') sin. (/S' — /30)’
and
Epoch of first observation, October 22-68488
tan.
consequently
Passage through perihelion, November 18-04383.
To determine the position of the orbit, we must first
tan. {1 (a0
+ “') — 7} =
_ sin. (/3' + /3°)
sin. (/3’ — j3°) ’
tan.
*
COM
The tangent now found belongs to two different angles ;
but this circumstance can occasion no ambiguity ; for as
the inclination I is supposed to be always less than 90°,
the cotangent of I must be always positive, so that sin.
(a0 — y) must always have the same sign as cot. j3. This
consideration will enable the computer to choose between
the two values of y, which correspond to tan. {£(a° + «')
— yj. With regard to the sign of /3, the northern lati¬
tudes are supposed positive, and the southern negative;
and the motion will be direct or retrograde, according as
a' — a° is positive or negative.
On computing tbe above formula, there results
1 (a° + a') — y = 84° 14/ 30''
but l(a° + a') = 69 21 54
therefore — y = 14 52 36
and consequently y = 345 7 24.
By correcting this value from the double equation given
above, Legendre finds
— y = 14° 52' 34"'5
y =: 345 7 25 -5.
Having found the longitude of the node, the inclination I
is given by the formula cot. I = cot. (3° sin. (a° — y), from
which we deduce
log. cot. I = 0-5458488, I = 15° 53' 0"-5.
Lastly, let. H be the angular distance of the comet
from the node, and n be the longitude of the perihelion.
Then
cos. H = cos. /3° cos. (a° — y)
n = H + y + ^0, if the comet is ad¬
C O M
151
vancing to the perihelion; or
n = H + y — -v}/0, if it has already pass¬
ed the perihelion.
Comiaes.
In the present example,
a° — y = 71° 23' 42"-5
cos. (a° — y) = 9 5038445
cos. /3° = 9-9847558
cos. H = 9-4886003
H = 72° 3' 32"-9
y =r 345 7 25 -5
4° = 91 33 43 -3
II = 148 44 41 -7
The elements of the orbit of this comet, therefore, as
deduced from the above solution, are as follows:
Log. n  9-5754481
Passage through the perihelion, November 18-04383
Inclination 15° 53' 0"-5
Longitude of ascending node 345 7 25 -5
Longitude of the perihelion 148 44 41 -7
Motion direct.
The orbit determined according to tbe method which
has here been explained, will always satisfy tbe first and
third observations. In general it will also represent the
second ; but should it occur that the place of the comet
at the second observation, computed from the elements
thus found, differs considerably from its observed place,
we may then conclude that the true orbit cannot be repre¬
sented by a parabola. In this case recourse must be bad
to the ellipse, for computing which, the best method is
that which is given by Gauss in his Theoria Motuum Cor-
porum Ccelestium. (s.)
COMILLAH, a town of Bengal, district of Tipperab, of
which it is the capital, situated on the south bank of the
Goomat river. It is the modern town, the former capital
having been Odeypore, which lies thirty miles farther
east. It is fifty-one miles south-east from Dacca. Long. 91.
2. E. Lat. 23. 28. N.
COMINES, Philippe de, Lord of Argenton, was born
at the castle of Comines, near Menin, in 1443. Descend¬
ed from an illustrious family of Flanders, he passed his
youth at the court of Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy,
where he became attached to the Count de Cbarolais,
whom he attended in the war of the Public Good, and was
present at the battle of Montlhery. When the count had
succeeded his father, under the name of Charles the Rash,
Comines continued to enjoy bis confidence and intimacy,
and was in attendance on him when, irritated by the bad
faith of Louis XL, the duke detained that artful monarch
as prisoner at Peronne. Comines, though then young,
showed his prudence and sagacity in endeavouring to calm
his headstrong master, who was transported with the most
violent resentment against Louis ; and by bis wise counsels
he contributed to the conclusion of the treaty of pacifica¬
tion which for the moment united these princes. He was
afterwards employed in various negociations, which he con¬
ducted with equal ability and address. But tbe impetuous
temper of the Duke of Burgundy becoming more and more
exasperated by his reverses, and a species of frenzy having
seized him in consequence of the failure of schemes rash¬
ly undertaken and imprudently executed, Louis, profiting
by the faults of his rival, set himself to detach from the
service of the duke all the men of ability or consideration
by whom he had been surrounded, and ultimately succeed¬
ed in his design. Comines was one of those who were
thus gained over by the artful monarch, and in 1472 he
passed from the service of Burgundy to that of France,
various reasons have been assigned for this desertion, re¬
specting which Comines himself observes the most guarded
silence in his Memoires ; the most, probable is, that he had
become disgusted with the service of a prince who habit¬
ually yielded to the most ungovernable transports of pas¬
sion, and who was manifestly rushing headlong to destruc¬
tion. Mezerai, however, remarks, with some appearance
of truth, that, if the reasons of Confines had been honour¬
able, he, who has discoursed so well on all other subjects,
would certainly have explained them. But be this as it may,
Louis XL loaded him with favours ; for scarcely had he en¬
tered the service of that monarch when he received a do¬
nation of the principality of Talmont, and of tbe lordships
of Clone, La Chaume, Curzon, Chateau-Gontier, Chastel-
Berry, Brem, and Brandois. The king also married him to
Helene de Jambes, the heiress of a rich and noble family
of Poitou, assisted him to purchase the estate of Argen¬
ton, conferred upon him the office of seneschal of Poitou,
and confirmed all his giants and donations by letters pa¬
tent under the royal seal. Comines, in fact, became one
of the most confidential servants of the king, near whose
person he was constantly employed ; and although he was
neither the friend nor the favourite of Louis, who never had
any such, he was better suited to the government of that
monarch than any other person of his time, and maintain¬
ed his influence solely by rendering himself useful. He
executed several important commissions with great ability,
and preserved undiminished to the last the confidence of
bis jealous and suspicious master. On the death of Louis,
Confines, having plunged into a variety of intrigues against
the government of Anne of Beaujeu, was at length ex¬
pelled from the court by Duke Rene of Lorraine, and re¬
tired to Moulins, the residence of the Constable of Bour¬
bon, to whose party he had attached himself. Nor did
his misfortunes end here. The constable, having made
his peace with the court, discarded Comines, who soon
afterwards became involved in a new conspiracy formed
152
Comineg.
COM
COM
by Count Dunois and the Duke of Orleans; but the plot
having been discovered when on the very eve of breaking
out, Comines was arrested, and sent prisoner to Loches,
where he passed eight months in one of those iron cages
which Louis XL had employed for the confinement ot state
criminals. “ Plusieurs les ont maudites, et moi aussi,
says he, “ qui en ai tate sous le roi d’a present.” W hen
the Duke of Orleans had been vanquished and taken
prisoner at St Aubin, and the authority of the regent had
been confirmed by victory, Comines was put on his trial
by the parliament, upon a charge of having maintained a
treasonable intercourse with the rebels; and being found
guilty by his judges, he was sentenced to banishment for
ten years to his estates, and the confiscation of the fourth
part of his property. It does not appear, however, that
this sentence was executed. In 1493, he assisted in the
treaty which was concluded at Senlis, between the king
and the Archduke of Austria as Duke of Burgundy. Charles
VIII. carried him into Italy, and, when the expedition to
Naples had been resolved upon, sent him to Venice in 01 der
to induce that republic to observe a strict neutrality, which
was of the utmost consequence to the success of the en¬
terprise. Comines discharged this important duty with
his usual ability, and delayed, though he could not pre¬
vent, the declaration of the republic in favour of the ene¬
mies of France ; upon which he returned to Florence,
where the king then was. Comines does not seem to have
been employed in any public capacity during the last thiee
years of Charles VIII.; but when Louis XII. ascended
the throne in 1498, he appeared at court to render homage
to the new sovereign. This is the last circumstance in
the life of Comines of which any notice has been pre¬
served. He died at Argenton on the 16th of August 1509,
at the age of sixty-four, having apparently retained to the
last the possessions and rank which had been conferred
upon him by Louis XI. It was after his return from
Italy, and in the retirement to which he had betaken him¬
self, that Comines commenced writing his Memoires, at
the solicitation of Angelo Cattho, Archbishop of Vienne,
who, like himself, had been in the service first of the Duke
of Burgundy, and afterwards of Louis XL; and it is to
this work that he is alone indebted for the celebrity of his
name. Indeed, among modern historians, none has been
estimated more highly than Comines, who, to the charm
of a natural and flexible style, which receives the direct
impress of his thoughts, exhibiting them in all their lights
and shadows, and to the interest which belongs to the
fresh and animated recital of an eye-witness, unites a pro¬
found knowledge of men and affairs, and displays cool
observation in happy alliance with sound judgment and
accurate discrimination. In estimating the qualities of
conduct and the shades of character, Comines is perhaps
unrivalled. Taking men as he found them, and regarding
them merely as the instruments of Providence, whom he
is neither called upon to love nor to hate, he depicts them
with a cool, rigorous, yet apparently unstudied severity;
and so true do his delineations appear, that he seems to
have looked into the very bottom of their souls, and to
have discovered the real principles or motives of which
their actions were the necessary result or expression. We
look in vain in his Memoires for noble sentiments, chival¬
rous feelings, or lofty aspirations. He paints men as he
knew them, with strict truth and fidelity; but he never
rises above the level of his subject, nor sacrifices that
calm dignity of tone which he sustains without effort, be¬
cause it seems to have been natural to his character. He
speaks little of himself; and the most important circum¬
stances of his life are omitted, probably because the re¬
cital of them might have embarrassed him. The first edi¬
tion of the Memoires of Comines, published at Paris in
1525, contains only the reign of Louis XL from 1464 to Comi
1483, and is divided into six books; but two more, con- |
taming the history of Charles VIII. till the year 1498, fomit
appeared in 1528,"Paris, folio. A new edition, however, V“'Y'
revised and corrected, was published at Paris in 1552,
folio, by the Sieur du Parc, and has often since been re¬
printed. But of the modern editions, the most com¬
plete and valuable is that of Lenglet-Dufresnoy, London,
1747, four volumes 4to.
COMITA, a town of Sicily, in the intendancy of Tre-
pani, north-west from Salemi, containing 3500 inhabitants.
COMITATUSjin law, a county. England was first di¬
vided into counties, and the counties into hundreds, and
these again into tythings, by King Alfred. Sometimes it
is taken for a territory or jurisdiction of a particular place.
COMITIA, in Roman antiquity, were general assem¬
blies of the people, lawfully called by some magistrate for
the enactment or prohibition of any thing by their votes.
The proper comitia were of three sorts, curiata, centu-
riata, and tribula, with reference to the three grand di¬
visions of the city and people into curiae, centurice, and
tribes: for by comitia calata were meant all the comitia
in general, the term calata, from or calo, being their
common epithet, though it was at last restricted to assem¬
blies for the creation of priests, and the regulation of last
wills and testaments.
The comitia curiata owed its origin to the division which
Romulus made of the people into thirty curiae, ten being
contained in every tribe. The curiae answered in most
respects to the parishes in our cities, being not only sepa¬
rated by proper bounds and limits, but distinguished too
by the different places set apart in each for the celebration
of divine service, which was performed by particular priests,
one to every curia, called curiones.
Before the institution of the comitia centuriata, all the
great concerns of the state were transacted in the assem¬
bly of the curiae ; as the election of kings and other chief
officers, the making and abrogating of laws, and the judg¬
ing of capital crimes. After the expulsion of the kings,
when the commons had obtained the privilege of having
tribunes and aediles, they were for some time elected at
these assemblies ; but that ceremony being at length
transferred to the comitia tributa, the curiae were never
convened to give their votes, excepting upon occasion of
making some particular law, relating to adoptions, wills,
and testaments, or the creation of officers for an expedi¬
tion, or for electing some of the priests, as \he Jlamines,
and the curio maximus, who were themselves chosen by
every particular curia. The power of calling these assem¬
blies'^ belonged at first only to the kings ; but on the esta¬
blishment of the democracy, this privilege was allowed to
most of the magistrates, and sometimes to the pontifices.
The persons who had the liberty of voting were such
Roman citizens as belonged to the curiae, or actually lived
in the city, and conformed to the customs and rites of
their proper curiae ; and all were excluded who dwelt with-^
out the bounds of the city, or retained the ceremonies of
their own country, even although they had been honour¬
ed with the jus civitatis. The place where the curiae met
was the comitium, a part of the forum. No fixed time
was appointed for holding any of the comitia, but they
were convened only as business required.
The people being met together, and confirmed by the
report of good omens from the augurs, which was necessary
in all the assemblies, the rogatio or business to be pro¬
posed to them was publicly read. After this, if none of
the magistrates interposed, upon the order of him who
presided in the comitia, the people divided into their pro¬
per curiae, and consulted of the matter; and then the cu¬
riae being called out, as it happened by lot, gave their
C OM COM 153
a. votes man by man, in ancient times viva voce, and after-
L/ wards by tablets; the most votes in every curia going for
the voice of the whole curia, and the most curiae for the
general consent of the people.
In the time of Cicero, the comitia curiata were so much
out of fashion that they were formed only by thirty lictors
representing the thirty curiae; whence, in his second ora¬
tion against Rullus, he calls them comitia adumbrata.
The comitia centuriata were instituted by Servius Tul¬
lius, who had obliged every one to give a true account of
what he was worth, and divided the people, according to the
returns, into six ranks or classes, which he subdivided into
a hundred and ninety-three centuries. The first classis,
containing the equites and richest citizens, consisted of
ninety-eight centuries. The second, including the trades¬
men andmechanics, consisted of twenty-two centuries ; the
third of twenty; the fourth of twenty-two; the fifth of
thirty ; and the sixth, composed of the poorer sort, of only
one century ; but this, though it bad the same name with
the rest, yet was seldom regarded, and scarcely allowed
any power in public matters. Hence it is common with
the Roman authors, when they speak of the classes, to
reckon no more than five, the sixth not being worth their
notice. This last classis or order was divided into two
parts or orders, the proletarii and the capite censi. The
former, as their name implies, were designed purely to
stock the republic with men, since they could supply it
with so little money; and the latter, who paid the lowest
tax of all, were rather counted and marshalled by their
heads than by their estates.
Persons of the first rank, by reason of their pre-eminence,
had the name of classici; and hence the name of classici
auctores came to signify the most approved writers. All
others, of what classis soever, were said to be infra classem.
The assembly of the people by centuries was held for the
election of consuls, censors, and praetors ; as also for the
judging of persons accused of what was called crimen
perduellionis, or actions by which the party had showed
himself an enemy to the state, and for the confirmation of
all such laws as were proposed by the chief magistrates,
who had the privilege of calling these assemblies.
The place appointed for their meeting was the campus
martins; because, in the primitive times of the common¬
wealth, when they were under continual apprehensions
of enemies, the people, to prevent any sudden assault,
went armed, in martial order, to hold these assemblies,
and were for that reason forbidden by the laws to meet
in the city, because an army was upon no account to
be marshalled within the walls; yet, in later ages, it was
thought sufficient to place a body of soldiers as a guard in
the Janiculum, where an imperial standard was erected,
, the taking down of which denoted the conclusion of the
comitia.
Though the time of holding these comitia for other mat¬
ters was undetermined, yet the magistrates, after the year
of the city 601, when they began to enter upon office on
the kalends of January, were constantly designed (desig-
nati) about the end of July and the beginning of August.
All the time between their election and confirmation
they continued as private persons, that inquisition might
be made into the election, and that the other candidates
might have time to enter objections, if they thought fit to do
so. Yet, at the election of the censors, this custom did not
hold; for as soon as they were elected they were imme¬
diately invested with the honour.
By the institution of these comitia, Servius Tullius se¬
cretly conveyed the whole of the power from the com¬
mons ; for the centuries of the first and richest class, who
were called out first, being more numerous by three than
a the rest put together, if they agreed, as they generally
VOL. VII.
did, the business was already decided, and the other classes Comitia.
w’ere needless and insignificant. However, the three last
scarcely ever came to vote.
In the time of freedom, the commons, in order to remedy
this disadvantage, obtained that, before the centuries pro¬
ceeded to vote any matter at these comitia, that century
should give its suffrages first upon which it fell by lot to do
so, with the name of centuria prerogativa ; while the rest
were to follow according to the order of their classes.
After the constitution of the thirty-five tribes into which
the classes and their centuries were divided, the tribes cast
lots, in the first place, which should be the prerogative
tribe, and then the centuries of the tribes also cast lots for
the honour of being a prerogative century. All the other
tribes and centuries had the appellation of jure vocatce,
because they were called out according to their proper
places.
The prerogative century being chosen by lot, the chief
magistrate, sitting in a tent in the middle of the campus
martius, ordered that century to come out and give their
voices ; upon which they presently separated from the rest
of the multitude, and came into an inclosed apartment,
which they termed septa or ovilia, passing over the pontes
or narrow boards laid there for the occasion ; on which ac¬
count cfe pontibus dejici signifies to be denied the privilege
of voting, and persons thus dealt with were called depon-
tani.
At the farther end of the pontes stood the diribitores (a
sort of under officers, so called from their marshalling the
people), who delivered to every man, in the election of
magistrates, as many tablets as there appeared candidates,
and one of these names was written upon every tablet. A
proper number of great chests were set ready in the septa,
and every voter threw in which Tablet he pleased.
Close by the chests were stationed some of the public
servants, who, taking out the tablets of every century, for
every tablet made a prick or a point in another tablet,
which was kept for the purpose. Thus, the business be¬
ing decided by most points, gave occasion to the phrase
omne tulit punctum, and the like.
The same method was observed in the justiciary pro¬
cess at these comitia, and also in the confirmation of laws,
except that, in both these cases, only two tablets w-ere offer¬
ed to every person, on one of which wras written U. R.
and on the other A. in capital letters ; the two first stand¬
ing for idi rogas, “ be it as you desire,” relating to the ma¬
gistrate who proposed the question ; and the last for anti-
quo, or “ I forbid it.”
It is remarkable, that though in the election of magis¬
trates, and in the ratification of laws, the votes of that
century whose tablets were equally divided signified no¬
thing ; yet in the trials of life and death, if the tablets for
and against were the same in number, the person was ac¬
tually acquitted.
The division of people into tribes was an invention of
Romulus after he had admitted the Sabines into Rome ;
and though he constituted at that time only three, yet as
the state increased in power, and the city in number of
inhabitants, they rose by degrees to thirty-five. For a
long time after this institution, a tribe signified no more
than a certain space of ground with its inhabitants. But at
last the matter was quite altered, and a tribe was no long¬
er pars urbis, but pars civitatis, not a quarter of the city,
but a company of citizens living wherever they pleased.
This change was chiefly occasioned by the original differ¬
ence between the tribes in point of honour; for Romulus
having committed all mechanic arts to the care of strangers,
slaves, and libertines, and reserved the labour of agricul¬
ture to the freemen and citizens, who by this active course
of life might be prepared for martial service, the tribus rus-
u
154
Oimitialis
Morbus
I!
Comma-
COM
ticce. were for this reason esteemed as more honourable
than the tribus urbance. And now all persons being de¬
sirous of getting into the more creditable division, and
there being several ways of accomplishing their wishes, as
by adoption, by the power of censors, or the like, that rus¬
tic tribe which had the most worthy names in its roll had
the preference to all others, though of the same geneial
denomination. Hence all of the same great family bunging
themselves by degrees into the same tribe, gave the name
of their family to the tribe which they honoured ; whereas
at first the generality of the tribes did not receive their
names from persons, but from places.
The first assembly of the tribes we meet with is obout
the year of Rome 263, having been convened by Sp. Sici-
nius, tribune of the commons, upon account of the tual o
Coriolanus. Soon after the tribunes of the commons were
ordered to be elected here, and at last all the infeiioi ma¬
gistrates and the collegiate priests. I he same comitia
served for enacting laws relating to war and peace, and
all others proposed by the tribunes and plebeian officers,
though they had not properly the name of leges, but only
that of plebiscita. They were generally convened by the
tribunes of the commons ; but the same privilege was al¬
lowed to all the chief magistrates. They were confined to
no place; and therefore we sometimes find them held in the
comitium, sometimes in the campus martius, and now and
then in the capitol. The proceedings were in most respects
conformable to those already described in the account of
the other comitia, and therefore need not be insisted on.
We may only observe further of the comitia in general,
that when any candidate was found to have most tablets
for a magistracy, he was declared to be designed or elected
by the president of the assembly, and this they termed
renunciari consid, praetor, or the like; and that the last
sort of the comitia only could be held without the consent
or approbation of the senate, which was necessary to the
convening of the other two.
COMITIALIS Morbus, an appellation given to the
epilepsy, by reason that the comitia of ancient Rome were
dissolved if any person in the assembly happened to be
seized with this distemper.
COMITIUM, in Roman Antiquity, a large hall in the
forum, where the comitia were ordinarily held.
COMMA, among grammarians, a point or character
marked thus (,), serving to denote a short stop, and to
divide the members of a period. Different authors define
and use it differently. According to Buffier, the comma
serves to distinguish the members of a period, in each of
which is a verb and the nominative case of the verb :
thus, “ That so many people are pleased with trifles, is
owing to a weakness of mind, which makes them love
things easy to be comprehended.” Besides this, the comma
is used to distinguish, in the same member of a period,
several nouns substantive or nouns adjective, or verbs not
united by a conjunction: thus, “ Virtue, wit, knowledge,
are the chief advantages of a man or, “ A man never
becomes learned without studying constantly, methodi¬
cally, with gusto, application,” &c. If such words are
united in the same phrase with a conjunction, the comma
is omitted : thus, “ The imagination and the judgment do
not always agree.”
The ingenious author of the tract T)e Ratione Interpun-
gendi, printed with Vossius’s Element. tor. London, 1734,
lays down the use of a comma to be, to distinguish the
simple members of a period or sentence ; that is, such as
only consist of one subject and one definite verb. But
this rule does not hold throughout; the same author in¬
stancing many particular cases not yet included in it, where
the comma is advisable.
It is a general rule that a comma ought not to come
COM
between a nominative and a verb, or an adjective and sub- c4
stantive, when these are not otherwise disjoined: thus, in
the sentence, God ruleth until infinite wisdom, a comma
between God and ruleth, or between infinite and wisdom, L
would be absurd. But to this exceptions may occur; as ^
when not a single word, but a sentence, happens to be
the nominative ; thus, in the example first above given,
where the sentence that so many people are pleased with
trifles, forms the nominative to the verb is, a comma at
trifles is proper, both for the sake of perspicuity, and as
coinciding with a slight natural pause. See Punctuation.
Comma, in Music. See Interval.
COMMACHIO, a city and fortress in the delegation
of Ferrara, in Italy, belonging to the pope, but garrisoned
by Austria, in pursuance of the treaty of Vienna. It is
situated in a marshy position, which constitutes its chief
defence. It is deemed very unhealthy, but contains 3500
inhabitants. Long. 12. 4. E. Lat. 44. 40. N.
COMMANDRY, a kind of benefice or fixed revenue
belonging to a military order, and conferred on ancient
knights who had done considerable services to the order.
There are strict or regular commandries, obtained in
order and by merit; there are others of grace and favour,
conferred at the pleasure of the grand master; there are
also commandries for the religious in the orders of St
Bernard and St Anthony. The kings of France have con¬
verted several of the hospitals for lepers into commandries
of the order of St Lazarus.
The commandries of Malta were of different kinds ; for
as the order consisted of knights, chaplains, and brothers
servitors, there were peculiar commandries or revenues at¬
tached to each. Ihe knight to whom one of these bene¬
fices or commandries was given wTas called commander,
which agrees pretty nearly with the prtepositus set over
the monks in places at a distance from the monastery, and
whose administration was called obedientia, because de¬
pending entirely upon the abbot who gave him his com¬
mission. Thus it was with the simple commandeis of Mal¬
ta, who were rather farmers of the order than benefici¬
aries ; paying a certain tribute or rent, called lesponsio,
to the common treasury of the order.
COMMEMORATION, in a general sense, the remem¬
brance of any person or thing, or the doing any thing to
the honour of a person’s memory, or in remembrance of
any past event. Thus, the eucharist is a commemoration
of the sufferings of Jesus Christ.
COMMENDAM, in the ecclesiastical law, the trustor
administration of the revenues of a benefice, given either
to a layman, to hold by way of depositum for six months,
in order to repairs, &c., or to an ecclesiastic oi beneficed
person, to perform the pastoral duties thereof until the be¬
nefice be provided with a regular incumbent. _
Anciently the administration of vacant bishopncs be¬
longed to the nearest neighbouring bishop; and on this
account such prelates were called commendatory bishops.
This custom appears to be very ancient. St Athanasius
says of himself, according to Nicephorus, that theie had
been given him in commendam, or in administiation, ano¬
ther church besides that of Alexandria, of which he was
stated bishop.
The care of churches which had no pastor was, it seems,
committed to a bishop till they were provided with an or¬
dinary. The register of Pope Gregory I. is full of these
commissions or commendams, granted during the absence
or sickness of a bishop, or the vacancy of the see.
Some say that Pope Leo IV. first established the mo-
dern commendams, in favour of ecclesiastics who had been
expelled their benefices by the Saracens, and that to them
the administration of the vacant churches was comnnttea
for a time, in expectation of their being restored ; thougn
COM
■ ien- St Gregory is said to have done the same thing while the
eus Lombards desolated Italy.
In a little time the practice of commendams was exceed-
,1 erce.jno.jy abused, and the revenues of monasteries were given
to°laymen for their subsistence. The bishops also procur¬
ed several benefices, or even bishoprics, in commendam,
which served as a pretext for holding all of them at once,
without directly violating the canons. Part of the abuse
has been retrenched ; but the use of commendams is still
retained, as an expedient to take off the incompatibility of
the person by the nature of the benefice.
When a parson is made bishop, his parsonage becomes
vacant; but if the king give him power, he may still hold
it in commendam.
COMMENDATUS, one who lives under the protection
of a great man. Commendati homines were persons who,
by voluntary homage, put themselves under the protection
of any superior lord. Ancient homage was either pre¬
dial, due for some tenure ; or personal, which was by com¬
pulsion, as a sign of necessary subjection ; or voluntary,
with a desire of protection ; and those who, by voluntary-
homage, put themselves under the protection of any man
in power, were sometimes called homines ejus commendati,
as often occurs in Doomsday-book. Commendati dimidii
were those who depended on two several lords, and paid
one half of their homage to each; and sub-commendati were
like under-tenants under the command of persons who
COM 155
were themselves under the command of some superior Commen-
loid. I here were also dimidii sub-commendati, who bore surable
a double relation to such depending lords. This phrase^ ^
seems to be still in use in the usual compliment, “ Com- t
mend me to such a friend, ’ .which is to let him know “ I ”
am his humble servant.”
COMMENSURABLE, among geometricians, an ap¬
pellation given to such quantities as are measured by one
and the same common measure.
Commensurable Numbers, whether integers or frac¬
tions, are such as can be measured or divided by some
other number without any remainder; such are 12 and 18,
as being measured by 6 and 3.
Commensurable in Porver, is said of right lines when
their squares are measured by one and the same space or
superficies.
Commensurable Surds, those which, being reduced to
their least terms, become true figurative quantities of
their kind; and are therefore as a rational quantity to a
rational one.
COMMENTARY, or Comment, in matters of litera¬
ture, an illustration of the difficult or obscure passages of
an author.
Commentary, or Commentaries, likewise denotes a kind
of history, or memoirs of certain transactions, in which the
author had a considerable share; such are the Commen¬
taries of Caesar.
COM M E li C E.
Commerce, in its most general sense, implies the ex¬
change of articles of any kind for money or other articles.
The earliest form of such exchanges is by barter, because
the use of gold and silver is not adopted until society has
made a certain progress. “ The armour of Diomed,” says
Homer, “ was plain, and was paid for by nine oxen ; whilst
the splendid armour of Glaucus cost a hundred.” Barter
being now disused in all improved countries, commerce is
almost always understood to denote the exchange of com¬
modities for money. In France and the south of Europe the
words used to designate commerce are derived from the
Latin; in Holland, Germany, and other northern countries,
a vernacular word is more frequent; but all are alike in
meaning, being applied equally to home and foreign trade.
We propose in the present essay to treat of,
I. The history of commerce, particularly in England and
Holland ;
II. The principles of commerce, and the evils of interfer¬
ing with the free course of trade;
III. Commercial fluctuations in the present age—evils of
an undue expenditure by government.
I. HISTORY OF COMMERCE.
3rig of It has been an object with many writers to ascertain
-uni rce. in what nation of antiquity commerce was first carried to
a considerable extent; but as that extent implies a pre¬
vious population, the more simple inquiry would be, in
what country population first acquired density, particular¬
ly in towns. The answer is, that mankind first increased
their numbers in warm latitudes, especially in situations
where irrigation, whether effected by the overflowing of
rivers, by the descent of streams from a range of moun¬
tains, or by any other means, was so extensive as to coun¬
teract the parching effect of heat, and give to vegetation
a luxuriance unknown in colder regions. It wras thus that
the Nile gave fertility to Egypt, the Euphrates to Chaldea,
and the Ganges, in the lower part of its course, to Bengal.
The earliest written notice of commercial intercourse is
in Scripture, where we read of Joseph being sold by his
brethren to a company of Ishmaelites or Arabs, who were
going to Egypt with spices, balm, and myrrh, conveyed
on the backs of camels. These itinerant traders probably
brought back corn, Egypt being, even at that remote
period, an occasional granary for Syria and other adja¬
cent countries. The conveying of goods on the backs of
animals ought to be remarked as indicative of a primitive
state of commercial intercourse—of that which is carried
on before the forming of roads or the use of wheel-carriages.
Such was the case in England two centuries ago; such at
present is the case in Spanish America, and, in some de¬
gree, in Old Spain, the mountainous nature of that coun¬
try making it a matter of great difficulty to form roads.
But whatever might be the inland traffic of the Ara- Phoenicia;
bians, Chaldeans, or Egyptians, they made very little pro-Sidon and
gress in navigation; that was the province of the Phceni-Tyre.
cians, who acted as naval carriers to the neighbouring na¬
tions, in the same way as the Dutch did during the six¬
teenth and seventeenth centuries to the rest of Europe.
This almost exclusive possession of navigation may seem
strange in the present age, but the cause was the same in
both cases, namely, the difficulty in a rude age of finding
men capable of conducting vessels in the open sea. Seaman¬
ship, now so familiar to the inhabitants of almost every
port in Europe, was in those days understood by only a
limited number, and was carried on with a degree of cau¬
tion and slowness hardly credible to a modern reader.
Thus the seamen of ancient times made it a rule to keep
within sight of land, as if trusting for protection to a situa¬
tion which the mariners of our days look on as attended
with considerable risk. This arose from the great differ¬
ence in the mode of propelling vessels, for which the mo¬
derns trust entirely to the wind, and navigate with com¬
paratively few hands. The small barks of the ancients
were fitted out with oars ; a method which required a
great sacrifice of manual labour, but was attended with
156
COMMERCE.
Commerce, the advantage of finding a ready shelter in a bay or creek
w-v-W whenever the sky portended tempestuous weather.
What, it may be asked, was the chief cause of the ex¬
tension of the navigation of Phoenicia? The vicinity of
Egypt, and the quantity of provisions and merchandise
exported from that fertile country. The navigation of the
lied Sea also was conducted chiefly by Phoenicians. His¬
tory is not sufficiently explicit in regard to the commodi¬
ties forming the object of traffic along the Red Sea, nor
have we any certain knowledge of the era at which the
trade with India by that channel commenced. Bonaparte,
when meditating his expedition to Egypt, was led, in his
sanguine estimate of its advantages, to consider the Red
Sea as the fittest line of communication with India, and to
ascribe the wealth of Thebes in Egypt, one of the eaihest
of commercial cities, to intercourse with the coast of i la-
labar. But whether the navigators of the Red Sea pro¬
ceeded at that early date as far as the shores of India, it
is evident that an extensive traffic was carried on with
Cosseir, or a sea-port on the Red Sea which communicat¬
ed with Thebes. The epoch at which Homer celebrated
the wealth of that city, is nearly the same as that at which
Phoenician mariners navigated the Red Sea on account of
the Jewish government in the reign of Solomon; but no
historical investigator has been able to fix with certainty
the situation of Ophir and larshish, the ports with which
these vessels traded. Some confident calculators have con¬
sidered them to have been in India ; but, judging from the
limited, skill of navigators in that early age, it seems more
likely that these harbours were near the eastern or more
remote parts of the Red Sea, a part from which there pro¬
bably was a direct communication with India.
Such was the traffic of the Phoenicians with the south
and east; it extended also to countries less peopled and
in a still more primitive state in the west. I he island of
Crete seems to have owed to them its early civilization;
and after Crete came Attica, Bceotia, the Peloponnesus,
in all of which tradition recorded the early introduction
of the arts by settlers arriving from Phoenicia or Egypt.
Greece. These arrivals seem to have taken place about a thousand
years before the Christian era, and half of that time elap¬
sed in the gradual attainment of that state of civilization
to which Greece had arrived at the period of her political
celebrity—the invasion of her territory by the Persians
under Darius and Xerxes.
Extent of Greece is in several respects well fitted for foreign
coast. commerce. Her coast is greatly indented by the sea, and
presents a number of inlets hardly inferior to the well-
known gulfs of Argos and Corinth. Hence an early fami¬
liarity with the use of shipping, and the practice of send¬
ing forth colonies at so early a date as a century after the
Trojan war. These colonies proceeded in various direc¬
tions, to Asia Minor in the east, to Thrace and the Euxine
in the north, to Sicily and Italy in the west. The progress
made by the inhabitants of these colonial settlements was
rapid, particularly at Syracuse, whose capacious harbour
soon acquired it extensive commerce and a numerous po¬
pulation. Agrigentum, Messina, Tarentum, were likewise
places of considerable importance. It was the custom of
these and other colonies to maintain an alliance and mer¬
cantile connection with the parent states, such as Athens,
Corinth, Argos; and a number of characters eminent in
literature and the arts appeared in the colonies, at a time
when their establishment might have been considered as
too recent to afford more than the necessaries of life. But
in a newly-settled country, such as the United States of
America, various circumstances concur to increase the
number and improve the condition of the inhabitants;
provisions are abundant, in consequence of the extent of
unoccupied land; the connection with the mother country
insures a certain extent of trade ", while the monopolies and Com;
other abuses natural to a long-settled community are in a 1
manner unknown.
On the other hand, the inland territory of Greece was
not well fitted for commercial intercourse. It is traversed
by no navigable river; and being mountainous and rugged,
it could not, even in the days of its prosperity, boast of
roads, merchandise being in those days, as at present, con¬
veyed, not in carriages, but on the backs of hoises and oxen.
This deficiency of communication by land was one cause
of the different states of Greece so long maintaining their
independence, and of the limited ascendency attained by
Lacedaemon, which, in extent of military means, was so
superior to the other states of the Peloponnesus. Sparta
and Thebes being inland towns, and Corinth comparative¬
ly a small state, Athens was the chief commercial city of'Ath!|
ancient Greece. Her distance from the sea, five miles,
was such as to afford her security against a sudden descent
from an invading armament, while it was sufficiently near
to her harbour, the Peirseus, for the easy transmission of
merchandise. The trade and shipping of Athens, however
small it might appear to a modern reader, was such as to
give it an ascendency over the different islands to the
eastward of Greece, and to enable it to maintain, in the
Peloponnesian war, a long struggle against a strong confe¬
deracy. When overcome at last, in consequence of what
may be termed an accidental cause, the capture of its
fleet by Lysander, its political depression was of short du¬
ration ; the activity and industry of its inhabitants revived
its trade, so that Athens continued for ages the most po¬
pulous and commercial place in Greece.
Tyre, though at no time a town of great extent, re-Tv
mained long in the enjoyment of considerable trade. From
the reign of Solomon, when its commercial activity is
described in Scripture, to its capture and destruction by
Alexander the Great, there elapsed a period of seven cen¬
turies. The formidable resistance it made to the Macedo¬
nian arms impressed Alexander with a strong sense of the
value of commerce, and of its effect in increasing the sources
of national power. Though known to the world chiefly as
a warrior, Alexander had considerable claims to the cha¬
racter of a politician. He adopted, and caused his followers
adopt, to a certain extent, the manners of the nations
they conquered; and by the expedition of Nearchus fiom
the mouth of the Indus to the Persian Gulf, he discovered
a commendable zeal for maritime discovery. Equal judg-Alt ^
ment was evinced by him in founding his new city ofmj
Alexandria in a position such as to command an extensive
range of intercourse. The Nile brought to it on one hand
the valuable products of Egypt, and afforded on the other
a ready inlet to the merchandise imported from Europe.
To India also the route by Alexandria and the Red Sea
was preferable to that of the Persian Gulf, which involved
the necessity of a considerable journey by land.
Contemporary with the decline of Athens and the riseCa#
of Alexandria, but superior to either in commercial acti¬
vity, was Carthage, the destruction of which forms one 01
the foulest blots in the history of the Romans. The situ¬
ation of Carthage was well adapted for trade; its harbour
was good, its range of navigation extensive, both to east
and west. Founded by a colony from Tyre, it maintained
a friendly intercourse with Phoenicia; while in the west
of the Mediterranean, in Sicily, Spain, and the south of
France, it met with no commercial rival. These countries,
at that time uncivilized, and almost uncultivated, were
greatly indebted to Carthage for the introduction of intel¬
ligent settlers, and derived from her the same advantages
which Greece, several centuries before, had received from
Phoenicia and Egypt. In Spain the fine harbours of Car-
thagena and Cadiz were rendered the resort of shipping
COMMERCE.
157
ice.by the Carthaginians; and without calling on our readers
^ to believe the traditional assertions of the extent of their
navigation, either to the north of Europe or the south of
Africa, we may with confidence affirm, that had not this
state unhappily fallen, from the jealousy of the Romans, it
would have been the means of diffusing industrious ha¬
bits over a great part of the west of Europe, and of advan¬
cing by several centuries the progress of the useful arts.
The policy of Carthage, though not uniformly pacific,
was far less pernicious than the perpetual tendency to ag¬
gression of a military state like Rome. In navigation the
Romans were at no time remarkable. During their con¬
flicts with the Carthaginians they sustained repeated losses,
chiefly from the unskilfulness of their seamen, and their
inability to cope with the fury of the elements. After they
had triumphed over the Carthaginians, and extended their
conquests to Macedon and Greece, the Romans were no
longer under the necessity of equipping fleets, because no
maritime state dared to dispute their supremacy. But the
extension of the Roman power was favourable, in several
respects, to commerce; piracy was suppressed, and mer¬
chant vessels had free access to almost every part of the
Mediterranean. Hence a gi’adual increase in the length
of mercantile voyages, which now extended on one hand
to the north of France and Germany, on the other to the
Indian Ocean, to which it became easy, from the pro¬
gressive improvement of navigation, to proceed either by
the Red Sea or the Persian Gulf. The mariners’ compass
was still unknown, but the uniform direction of the wind
in certain seasons enabled the navigators to and from In¬
dia to complete their voyages with little difficulty,
j. It was towards the middle of the fifth century, about a
s. hundred years after the removal of the seat of empire to
Constantinople, that the Romans became unable to de¬
fend their frontier against the uncivilized tribes who
pressed on them from the north and east. The conse¬
quence was, that the country along the Rhine, the inland
provinces of Gaul, and, some time afterwards, Spain and
the north of Italy, were overrun by these rude assailants.
The increase in the population of towns wras checked,
many places being plundered, others subjected to heavy
contributions, and property in general rendered unsafe.
There was no longer a central or general government; the
territory of the empire was divided into a number of se¬
parate states, the rulers of which had no just idea of the
importance of commerce. These uneducated governors,
accustomed to appeal on almost all occasions to the sword,
were not sufficiently enlightened to forego the temptation
of a present seizure, for the sake of the lasting advantage
of mercantile intercourse.
The apprehension engendered by the approach of bar¬
barians from the north and east, led a number of traders
and manufacturers settled in the north of Italy to fix
their families in the small islands near the mouths of the
Po. There the surrounding waters afforded them a de¬
gree of protection against invaders, who, however for¬
midable by land, had no means of carrying on hostilities
by sea. Such was the origin of Venice, a city situated in
the midst of the waters, and destined to acquire extensive
trade from the security attendant on her position, and to
take a lead amidst the mercantile states of the middle
ages.
Next to Venice in the history of modern commerce
came Pisa, a town built on the banks of the Arno, at a
distance of nearly three leagues from the sea. Its trade
was chiefly with the western coast of Italy, with Sardinia,
Corsica, and Sicily. Its commercial importance was prior
by two centuries to that of Genoa, although it never
equalled the latter in extent of navigation, nor in the num¬
ber of distant settlements. Pisa declined from its com¬
mercial rank, in consequence of Leghorn, which was situ- Commerce,
ated immediately on the coast, being better adapted to ''—"v-x-''
foreign intercourse.
Genoa continued flourishing from the year 1000, until Genoa,
its ill-judged hostilities with Venice in the latter half of
the fourteenth century. These wTere injurious to both, yet
both recovered from the effects, so as to hold, during
several centuries, a distinguished rank in trade. They
were remarkable also, particularly Venice, for a variety of
the finer manufactures. Neither could boast of a supply
of the raw materials of almost any manufacture in their
respective territories ; but their numerous merchant ves¬
sels brought a variety of products from a distance, and
the amount of the population of either city was such as to
render practicable that division of employment which is
the soul of manufacture, and which was at that time al¬
most unknown in other parts of Europe.
Constantinople had the good fortune to remain un-Constanti-
touched by the enemies of the empire until the middle of nople.
the fifteenth century, a time wdien civilization had made
progress in the west of Europe, and literature was on the
eve of receiving a great extension by the discovery of the
art of printing. To this fortunate coincidence of the re¬
vival of the arts in the west, at the time when the east of
Europe was sinking under the pressure of barbarism, we
owe the preservation of much that was valuable in the
ancient world; and, among other things, that of certain
manufactures and branches of commerce. Constantinople
had all along maintained a commercial intercourse with
Venice and other ports in Italy, and, in general, with
Alexandria. The same had been the case in regard to Trade with
India; for when the occupancy of Egypt by the Sara- India,
cens prevented the trade to India by the Red Sea, it was
kept up by the Caspian and Euxine. But by far the
shortest course from the east of Europe to India is by the
Euphrates and the Persian Gulf. It was to the extent of
intercourse carried on by this channel, some time after
the Christian era, that we are to ascribe the wealth and
grandeur of Palmyra, a city erected in the midst of de¬
serts. This would have continued one of the chief routes
of communication between Europe and India during the
middle ages, had not the caravans been in perpetual dan¬
ger from the Arabs, after the decline of the civilized go¬
vernments in this part of Asia.
The trade between Europe and India, though of con- Venice;
siderable value, w^as not extensive enough to be produc-causes of
tive of the wealth ascribed to it by Dr Robertson and its in-
other historians, who, unacquainted practically with com-crease"
merce and its limited gains, are ready to lend an ear
to the sanguine statements of early writers. Thus the
wealth of Venice, commonly ascribed to its trade with
Alexandria and India, was the consequence of a variety
of causes, no one being of particular importance, because
several centuries were passed in the gradual increase of
its population and capital. Venice afforded a secure re¬
sort in ages when other countries were in danger of inva¬
sion and plunder. It had also a prudent government, in
times when, in most parts of Europe, there was little idea
of a free constitution, or of a regular administration of jus¬
tice. Venice was in this state when, in the twelfth and
thirteenth centuries, the increase of traffic, arising from
conveying the crusaders, with their military stores, and
the readiness of those zealous combatants to extend the
sway of a Christian state, enabled that commercial repub¬
lic to increase her foreign territories. In general, the fo¬
reign policy of Venice was pacific, but she found it diffi¬
cult to avoid hostilities with the Turks, or to escape from
taking a part in the repeated contests which took place
between France and Austria for the territory of the Mi¬
lanese.
158
Commerce,
Spain.
be to merchants of the present day, they were too refined
for the rude and primitive state of most parts of Europe
in the middle ages.
And here it may be well to point out the fallacy of a
notion general in Spain, and not uncommon in other parts
of Europe, namely, that in the middle ages Spain was a
flourishing country, and possessed, in Tarragona, Tortosa,
COMMERCE.
Those who take an interest in tracing the gradual ex- became members of this protecting body, which continu-Con;^
tension of industry, will find in Venice the origin of seve- ed in a state of union during three centuries. At the end
ral important commercial institutions. In that city was of that time it was gradually dissolved, not by any vio-
established the first public bank, and there also was first lence or exercise ol authority, but by the continued pro-
introduced a funded debt transferable from hand to hand. gress of civilization; the different governments in the
The same thing held in regard to lesser matters connected north of Europe having by that time acquired the power
with the details of mercantile business. Bills of exchange, of protecting their mercantile subjects. It is now about
if not invented by Venetian merchants, were first carried twro centuries since the association of the Hawse iowns
by them to a great extent; and the principles of book- ceased to exist in a comprehensive sense ; and for a con-
keeping by double entry were there first understood and siderable time the name has been confined to 1 amburg,
applied in practice. However familiar those principles may Lubeck, and Bremen.
- ' ' ~ ’ Hamburg took the lead of other trading towns of the
north of Germany, by means chiefly of the extent of its
river, and the consequent easy communication with the
sea on the one hand, and the interior of Germany on the
other. It gained also by the improvement of navigation
in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when vessels from
the south of Europe found it no longer necessary to sus-
and Zaragoza, great population and wealth, each of these pend their voyage at Bruges, but found it practicable, and
towns being said to have contained several hundred thou- even easy, to proceed at once as far as the Elbe,
sand inhabitants. This singular opinion was widely spread, .
in consequence of the prominent figure made by Spain in The wealth and possession of the Netherlands belong, Th
the politics of Europe, in the reigns of Charles V. and like the early opulence of Tyre, and the magnitude of the the
Philip II. The public did not Bike into account the great trade of Carthage, to the remarkable phenomena of mer-
addition of power conferred on Spain by her possessions cantile history. To judge from the physical aspect of
in Italy and the Low Countries; nor were there in these Holland, the general marshiness of the soil, the indiffer-
- - |   ’ 1 ent climate, and the total absence of mineral products,
we should be inclined to consider it among the least fa¬
voured countries of Europe ; but all these disadvantages
were balanced, and more than balanced, by the possession
of extensive water communication. No part of Europe
equals Flanders and Holland in extent of inlets from the
sea, in the breadth of navigable rivers, or in the ease with
which canals may be excavated. To these advantages,
much more than to civil institutions, we are to ascribe
days statisticians capable of explaining the very slow
manner in which either cultivation or commerce can ac¬
quire extension in a country so mountainous, and with so
few means of transport, as Spain. Of roads she can boast
only the few that are required for the purposes of govern¬
ment, the cross roads being little more than bridle paths,
and the traffic of the country being in general carried on
All this indicates a scanty population and a
by mules
backward state of society, as has been the case in Spain
in every age; for there is no truth in the traditionary opi- the early prosperity of the Netherlands; for these appa
nion that her population was greatly thinned by emigra- rently unpromising countries took^a lead in civilization,
tion to America. The number of persons who proceeded
annually from Spain to America never exceeded the tenth
part of those who at present go annually from Ireland to
Canada. The truth is, that the power of Charles V. and
almost as remarkable as the more favoured regions of the
north of Italy. That they were not so early in the career
of improvement, was owing to the comparative barbarism
of the countries in the north of Europe with which they
Philip II. was great only because the power of the other held intercourse; while Italy had communication on one
princes of Europe was very limited. The military esta- hand with Constantinople^and the eastern empire, on the
other hand with the south of France, the west of Italy,
and various sea-ports which still preserved a portion of
ancient civilization.
The soil of Flanders, without being naturally fertile, Flai
was more easily cultivated than the comparatively marshy
districts of Plolland. Flence the early superiority of the
^ ^ ^ o 7      Flemings in agriculture and manufactures. It was in the
^ular posts and very few roads, so that the means of re- fourteenth century that the art ot weaving^ the finer wool¬
dressing grievances, or of making communications from lens was introduced from Flanders into England, and in
one part to another, were very imperfect. Too much has the sixteenth that we derived from the same quarter many
been said of the political power exercised by the Hanse useful imports in agriculture and gardening. I he pro-
Towns, but the association was of great use in protecting gress of the Dutch in navigation was equally remarkable. Hoi
individual property. It dated from the middle of the The Maese and Rhine enabled them to bring down the
thirteenth century, and originated at Lubeck, a sea-port, bulky produce of the interior, such as timber, corn, or
which had not in those days more population or wealth cattle, to their own coast, as well as to carry up these
than at present, but possessed much more comparative rivers to the inland provinces, the various articles of mer-
portance, because very few places in Europe could at chandise imported from the south of Europe. Flence the
blishments of that age were quite insignificant compared
to those of the present times.
The Hanse One of the chief features in mercantile history during
Towns. the middle ages was the association of towns in the north
of Europe for the purpose of giving security to mercantile
property. At that time the different countries of Europe
were very imperfectly governed; there were then no re-
Lubeck.
that time boast of 30,000 or 40,000 inhabitants. The
trade between the Baltic and the west of Germany cen¬
tred in the harbour of Lubeck, in ages when navigators
were not sufficiently skilled to proceed to or come from
the Baltic by the circuitous route of the Sound. The as¬
sociation of the Flanse Towns consisted first of Lubeck,
Hamburg, and Brunswick, but soon extended to other
places—to Amsterdam, Dordt, Cologne, on the one side,
to Dantzic, Kdnigsberg, Riga, on the other. These and
many smaller towns, to the number of sixty and upwards,
increase of Dordt and Rotterdam. I he rise of Amster¬
dam was owing to a different cause ; to the extent of the
Zuyder Zee ; to the easy access which that expanse of
water afforded to vessels from the Elbe, the Weser, and
the Baltic.
Bruges owed its increase to its adoption as an interme-Bru:
diate port for vessels from the north and south of Europe.
A voyage from the Mediterranean to the Baltic was in
those days a formidable undertaking; seafaring men ac¬
counted it too long to be performed out and home in one
Ar
COMMERCE.
159
Co ierce.season, and gladly embraced the opportunity afforded by
' the warehouses of Bruges for landing their cargo from the
south, and taking on board another from the north, with¬
out the delay of a passage through the Sound. This plan
of dividing the voyages to the north continued during
the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries ; in the fifteenth
it in a great measure ceased, because the improvements
in seamanship made it easy for vessels to proceed direct
to Hamburg, Copenhagen, and other northern parts.
Antwerp succeeded Bruges as the station authorized by
the Hanse Towns; but its prosperity was mainly owing to
the width and depth of the Scheldt, which may be said to
surpass any of the maritime inlets in the north of Europe.
The time of the chief prosperity of Antwerp was in the
sixteenth century; its population and wealth had attained
a great height for so unimproved an age, and would have
continued to increase, had not the tyranny of Philip II.
provoked the inhabitants to insurrection, and exposed
them to all the evils of a siege and capture by a military
force. The consequence of this misfortune, and of the
continued intolerance of the Spanish government, was the
removal to Amsterdam of many of the inhabitants, and of
a great share of the mercantile business of Antwerp. In
the next century the Dutch acquired great political weight,
and took advantage of it to prevent the navigation of the
Scheldt, that Amsterdam and Rotterdam might possess
exclusively the trade with the interior provinces. This
singular prohibition, unexampled in the history of com¬
merce, remained in force 150 years ; for the Scheldt was
not opened to merchant vessels until 1794, when the Ne¬
therlands fell under the dominion of France. During all
that time Antwerp was deprived of the benefit of foreign
trade; its population ceased to increase, and remained sta¬
tionary at the number, on an average, of 50,000.
■isl-ery
of atari-
timJaute
to ilia.
The great object of navigators in the fifteenth century
was to reach India by the ocean, and to carry on what
was accounted a lucrative traffic without interruption from
the Turks or Arabs. The discoveries required for this
purpose were made by the Portuguese, who, in situation,
were nearer than other Europeans to the western coast of
Africa, the line necessarily followed by those who aimed
at reaching India by a new course. The Portuguese had
in those days more than one prince of the blood disposed
to patronize maritime discovery; but their seamen were
very unskilful, so that in following their awkward efforts
at discovery, we find season after season passed in tracing
the unknown part of the coast of Africa to a distance of
only fifty or sixty leagues. This inconceivable slowness
marked the navigation of the Portuguese in their progress
towards the equator, until, in 1484, they ventured to for¬
sake the coast, stood out to the open ocean, and penetrat¬
ed 1500 miles to the south of the line. From that time
a bolder course was taken by these adventurers, and at last
the discovery of the route to India by the Cape of Good
Flope was accomplished in 1497.
The discovery of America was effected in a very differ¬
ent manner. Though accomplished by Spanish vessels,
the honour of the enterprise belonged more properly to
Italy; for it was only in a country accustomed to naviga¬
tion, and possessing well-educated mariners, that so dis¬
tant a voyage could have been accounted practicable.
Many years were passed, as is well known, by Columbus
in forming his plan, and soliciting the aid required to
carry it into effect; but, once embarked in the attempt,
the success was speedy, because the mind of the conductor
was sufficiently enlightened to persevere in the voyage,
instead of returning, as would probably have been done
by an inferior navigator before traversing the half of the
Atlantic.
We now come to the sixteenth century, the time when Commerce,
the productive industry of Europe received a considerable
impulse from the influx of the precious metals from Ame¬
rica. At that time the chief trading towns of Europe were
in Italy, the Netherlands, and, in a much less degree, in
France, England, and Germany. In the latter countries
the towns were very small, not being peopled to the
extent of one third of their present numbers. Nothing
shows more clearly the backwardness of manufactures in
that age, the imperfect division of employment, or the li¬
mited communication between one province and another.
There were in those days few lines of intercourse entitled
to the name of roads, or fit for conveying corn or mer¬
chandise by wheel carriages. Even in countries compa¬
ratively level, such as the south of England, the north of
France, the north of Germany, there were no carriage
roads, and goods were conveyed on the backs of mules
and horses, in the same manner as over the mountainous
regions of the Alps. Nor were there in that time post-
office establishments for the service of either governments
or merchants.
An increase in town population is the best evidence of
improvement in agriculture, as in commerce. In a rude
state of cultivation, the labour of seventy or eighty persons
is required to raise provisions for a hundred ; so that three
fourths of the inhabitants are obliged to live in country
districts, for the mere purpose of raising subsistence. But
as machinery and implements become improved, and the
art of husbandry is better understood, the farmer can ren¬
der more effectual the labour of himself and his assistants;
there remains a greater surplus of provisions for the sup¬
port of the inhabitants of towns; and somewhat more of
the population are enabled to attach themselves to em¬
ployments distinct from agriculture, namely, those ol'me¬
chanics and manufactures. To this improved condition Eu¬
rope was slowly advancing, when the discovery of the sil¬
ver mines of America had the effect of materially quicken¬
ing its progress. This renders it proper to make a few re¬
marks on the supply of gold and silver in early ages.
It is somewhat singular that Egypt, a country never re-The pre-
markable for mines in its own territory, should have been clous me-
among the first to give an example of mining on a large tal3; effect
scale. But the Egyptians had extended their conquests tlleirin’
to the southward, where, in the mountains of Nubia, there pi.oductive
were extensive mining districts. In these, as in the niines ii)tjustry.
of other parts of the world, masses of ore contained only
particles of silver, and the task of raising the ore to the
surface was very laborious. This was performed in the
Nubian mines with little aid from machinery, and chiefly
by manual labour, as is still the case in many parts of Spa¬
nish and Portuguese America.
The next accounts of mining in ancient history relate to
Greece, where, from the mountainous nature of the coun¬
try, the mines were numerous, though not particularly
productive. They were wrought in Attica, Thrace, and
several of the islands. The labourers were paid partly
in money, partly in provisions; and the accounts handed
down to us by Greek writers show that mining, like agri¬
culture, afforded a fair return for the capital and labour
employed, but no remarkable profit. Spain in those times,
as at present, was remarkable for extensive mining; as
were in a less degree Sardinia, Corsica, and the small
island of Elba.
Such undertakings were long carried on for the public
account; but towards the fifth century of the Christian
era, the Roman government withdrew from most of its
mining establishments, allowing individuals to carry them
on for their own account. The quantity of gold and sil¬
ver in circulation appears to have subsequently decreased;
but we are greatly at a loss for correct information in re-
1G0
C O M MERGE.
Commerce, gard either to the state of mines or the prices of commo-
dities, as represented in money, during the middle ages.
Influx of It is now three centuries since the importation of silver
silver from from America, in particular from Mexico and I eru, amount-
America. ed at first to half a million annually, and increased to one,
and afterwards to two millions. This sum was such as to
affect the prices of corn, labour, and merchandise gene¬
rally. It caused a gradual rise of prices, carried to the
greatest length in maritime districts, in parts connected
with each other by navigation. The published works of
the sixteenth century contain many notices of the rise in
the price of commodities, and of the inconvenience resu t-
ing to the consumers from such rise: the advantages to
agriculturists and producers generally were not so clearly
perceived, or the humble classes enjoying them had not
equal means of stating them to the public.
The supplies of gold and silver from America, continued
during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and on
a much larger scale than during the sixteenth; yet their
effect was not so great for several reasons, hirst, the
number of persons among whom silver now circulated
was far greater than formerly. Gold also had become
more common, and began to form the c lie , or a mos
the sole medium for large payments; and, lastly, tne use
of silver for plate, jewellery, watches, and other orna¬
mental purposes, increased greatly in consequence of the
improved circumstances of the middle and upper classes.
There remained thus less silver to add to the com in cir¬
culation.
It was in the eighteenth century, particularly after
1750, that the use of bank notes became general in Eng¬
land, and subsequently in the United States of America.
This may be compared in its effect on prices to an addi¬
tional supply of gold from the mine, because its tendency
to raise prices is considerable, though not so great as is
vulgarly supposed; because bank paper payable in cash
on demand, of which alone we speak, can never be undu¬
ly extended. ,
Bank notes have as yet obtained little currency on the
Continent of Europe; but in Great Britain, Ireland, and
North America, their effect on prices may be said to have
been similar to that of the importation of the precious me¬
tals from America. In either case, the consequence was a
rise in the money price of corn, and commodities general¬
ly. To comprehend the benefit of such rise, we should
consider society as divided into two great parts ; the pro¬
ducing and the non-producing classes. I he latter consist
of capitalists, landholders, or fixed annuitants ; the loimei
of farmers, especially tenants on lease, manufacture! s, mei-
chants, and, in general, all persons who carry on business
with borrowed capital. If a tenant on lease continue to
pay during twenty-one years the same rent, while the
market price of his crops experiences a progressive rise,
it follows that his circumstances will improve. Thus, on
the augmented importation of silver from America, which
began three centuries ago, there took place a slow but
steady rise in prices, the effect of which was of great ad¬
vantage to agriculturists, in particular to those who held
land on lease. The yeoman who was cautious and perse¬
vering thus laid the foundation of a little piopeity, the
next generation added to it, and the third rose from the
condition of cottagers to that of farmers. This, or some¬
thing like this, was the course of circumstances in Eng-CW
land, during the chief part of the sixteenth, seventeenth, W
and eighteenth centuries. If the effect was at no time very
great, it was continued and progressive; for we can trace
no great or general decline in the price of agricultural
produce until the general peace of 1814.1
The trade and navigation of England, unexampled asTra,;
it now is in extent, did not by any means make an early En<; i
figure in the commercial history of Europe. Of this the
principal cause was the thinness of our population com¬
pared to that of the north of Italy or the Netherlands, and
the consequent insignificance of our towns. Our slow
progress in trade is also to be ascribed to political causes,
to the civil troubles originating with the great barons, the
frequent wars with France, and still more to the long and
sanguinary contests in the fifteenth century, respecting the
rival claims of the houses of York and Lancaster. It was
not till the reign of Henry VIE, little more than three
centuries ago, that the advantages arising from our extent
of coast and abundance of fuel began to be brought into
active operation. During the reign of his successor, the
progress of improvement received little patronage from
the court, but a most efficient indirect aid from the intro¬
duction of Protestantism. The advantages resulting from
that happy change, and the development of national indus¬
try, were strongly displayed during the long reign of Eli¬
zabeth, under the wise administration of Cecil. At that
time, also, was felt the benefit arising to the productive
classes, from the augmented import of gold and silver from
America.
We pass over the very questionable, though popular Th
opinion, that the adoption of our navigation laws had agati;*
beneficial effect on our shipping. They accelerated its
increase; but that increase would probably have taken
place to an equal extent, and on a surer foundation, had
foreigners been allowed to frequent our harbours, until
the course of circumstances gradually led to a preference
of British vessels. In all the departments of productive
industry which have as yet had a fair trial, interferences
and exclusive privileges have been found detrimental to
national prosperity; nor does there seem any reason for
making an exception in the case of mercantile shipping.
Thus, in no department have more efforts been made to
cause increase by artificial encouragements, than in our
fisheries. Government, desirous of extending these great
nurseries of seamen, have granted large bounties, particu¬
larly on the vessels employed in the herring fishery; still
the result has never been satisfactory, and bounties are
now withdrawn from fishing vessels, in the same manner as
from exported linens, and other articles of merchandise.
Our navigation laws date from the middle of the seven¬
teenth century; and in the course of fitly years our mer¬
cantile shipping was increased to somewhat more than
double its amount. But the great period of increase was
during the eighteenth century, at the beginning of which
the mercantile navy ot England amounted to 210,000 tons,
while in the middle (about 1750) it exceeded 600,000,
and in the end of the century approached to 1,600,000.
At present it may be computed at 2,500,000 tons; and
the number of seamen belonging to our mercantile ship¬
ping at 150,000, being double those of the United States
1 ThP pflWt of a nrom-essive rise of prices in stimulating the productive industry of a people was first started by Mr Hume about
seventy vfS ago! fn h!™ He had seen L effect of this rise in the war of 1740, as well as m that «
war carried on by annual loans has the effect of raising prices nearly in the sa™; His remarks
Mr Hume had also the means of observing m some degree, the effect mi P^^.^.^^^Xrnowers consHering his limited
cussions of 1819 on the resumption of cash payments, or of 1826 on the recal of small notes .
«c°
Cl!
COMMERCE.
161
Corier-
cial jia-
ty' u _
Fra 2 in
-178
ierce.of America, and triple, or nearly triple, the shipping and
seamen of France.
Of our national manufactures, woollen was long the most
fac- considerable; but it is now surpassed by cotton, the ex¬
tension of which since the year 1770 has, like the increase
of our population, been one of the wonders of the age.
Another manufacture surprisingly extended during the
last half century is that of iron and hardware. Our supe¬
riority in the latter, both as to quality and cheapness, is
such as to give to our exporters a decided preference in
foreign markets.
It is now nearly a century and a half since there has
hoi re- been kept at the custom-house in London a yearly regis¬
ter of our exports and imports. But such returns exhibit
a very imperfect statement of the aggregate of our foreign
trade; because remittances take place in bills of exchange,
and in various other ways, which escape the notice of the
official registrar. It has long been the practice of merchants
to consider our exports as exceeding our imports ; but this
has arisen chiefly from the different mode of valuing the
two. The truth is, that the sum of our imports is nearly
as great as that of our exports ; but this approach to equa¬
lity is by no means a preventive of profit. Articles are
worth more in one country than in another ; and a gain is
made by the mere exchange, in the same way that a na¬
tion augments its wealth by the interchange of commodi¬
ties between its different provinces.
The commercial treaty with France, concluded in 1786,
was entitled to particular notice, as well for the fairness of
its conditions, as for being the first commercial compact,
on a comprehensive scale, between two nations so long
divided by political causes. The freedom of competition
opened by this treaty put to the test the ability of either
country to supply the great articles of manufacture.
While in silk, jewellery, and ornamental work generally,
the French continued to be superior, England had the ad¬
vantage in such substantial articles as hardware and pot¬
tery, as well as in the rapidly increasing manufacture of
cottons. This principally arose, not from the conditions
of the. treaty being unfair towards France, but from our
advantages on the grand points of fuel, canal communica¬
tion, and amount of capital. Unfortunately the operation
of this judicious compact was cut short by the war of 1793.
Had the peace continued longer, there is little doubt that
whatever was obnoxious in the conditions of the treaty
would have been gradually removed, by the mutual ac¬
commodations which insensibly take place between na¬
tions in a state of amity and free intercourse.
:s A striking feature in the trade of England, compared to
t*1 that of France, Germany, and other continental countries,
‘j’d is the magnitude of its exports to distant parts, such as
5St India, North America, and the West Indies. These dif¬
ferent branches of trade employ a number of seamen, and
make a conspicuous figure in the list of our j^early exports.
They are considered by foreigners, as well as by the ma¬
jority of our countrymen, as the pillars of our commercial
prosperity; but those who estimate them so highly have
no idea of the large sums of capital that have been with¬
drawn by each of these countries from England. The
United States of America consumed our manufactures
largely for nearly a century, but in no one year did they
remit to this country the full value of the articles which
we exported to them. The amount due from them to
England has long exceeded the general estimate, and is
known only to the merchants, wrho feel the deduction thus
made from their pecuniary means. A similar drain has
long been made by our West India colonies, but in a less
degree, until within these thirty years, since which the ca¬
pital drawn from England has amounted to many millions.
M ith India our commercial intercourse was more limited ;
VOL. VII.
Exp
to iN
Amo
Indi
the
Indi
and the exports, confined to the East India Company and Commerce,
to a few mercantile houses in London, were on a compa-
ratively small scale until the present age, during which
the extension of the private trade from Liverpool, and the
advance of capital on indigo plantations, made our India
business assume a considerable resemblance to that with
North America and the West Indies.
I he real and substantial benefit arising from commerce
takes place at home, and shows itself in the extension of
manufactures, the increase of towns, the improvement of
roads, canals, and harbours. In all these England has
in the last century taken a decided lead of France, the
Netherlands, and every continental state. Happily the
grounds of our superiority appear likely to continue, rest¬
ing as they do on our abundant capital, our formed habits
of business, the general subdivision of employment, and
the extent of national improvements conducive to useful
purposes. 'These substantial advantages are, it may be
hoped, so great as to enable us to overcome the burdens
arising from financial mismanagement, and our too ardent
interference in foreign politics.
Of the course of trade in this country during the last
half century, the following is a brief summary. After the
peace with the United States of America in 1783, our
trade suffered for some time by the transition from war to
peace, but gradually improved; and in the years 1789,1790,
1791, 179*2, was decidedly prosperous. After this came the
war with France, which was at first injurious to trade, but
after the abundance of money consequent on the extend¬
ed circulation of bank paper in 1797, assumed a very dif¬
ferent appearance, and seemed to bring a yearly addition
to the national wealth. This ostensible increase of profits
was kept up during the chief part of the war, but at the
peace the state of circumstances underwent a complete
change ; the transition was great beyond example ; prices
fell in every department of business, and the year 1816
was among the most gloomy in our commercial history. A
revival of trade took place in 1817 and 1818, but it was
succeeded by a long depression. In 1823 trade revived
once more; in 1824 it became prosperous, and 1825 af¬
forded a striking example of the abuse of mercantile pro¬
sperity. But. at the end of that year a general fall of prices
took place, and since then our trade has been almost uni¬
formly in a depressed state; the profits of capital have
been small, and the wages of the manufacturers much
lower than before.
From the ease with which money was borrowed by the Effect of
government of this country during the eighteenth century, warexpen-
the wars we carried on were both of frequent occurrence ^ur^.on
and on a scale of great expense. The result was a conti-
nued increase of debt and taxation; but the burden did j^ies and
not appear beyond our means, until the unprecedented the income
length to which it was carried by the wars of 1793 andofindivi-
1803. Both took place under the ministry of Mr Pitt, and duals,
the extreme to which he allowed expenditure to be car¬
ried was the more remarkable when we consider his long
experience in finance, and that from the time of his com¬
ing into office his attention was given to the state of our
trade and revenue. Several of his early measures, such
as the commutation of the duty on tea, and the commer¬
cial treaty with France in 1786, were entitled to great
commendation. A similar opinion is not now entertained
of his revival of the sinking fund ; and it was in an evil
hour that he allowed himself to be diverted from his paci¬
fic course by the urgency of the aristocracy and his sove¬
reign, to take up arms against the French revolutionists.
Unfortunately the atrocities of these men, the endless
usurpations of Bonaparte, and, above all, the facilities af¬
forded by the unchecked issue of bank paper, carried our
expenditure to an unprecedented height.
x
]62
COMMERCE.
Commerce. In the midst of this hazardous career, the death of Mr ed ? It may not be possible to estimate the time when aCon
Pitt, and the removal from office of his immediate succes- favourable re-action in our mercantile condition will take w
sors, transferred the management of our finances to the place, or the extent to which our prosperity may event-
hands of men wholly unequal to the task; of men uncon- ually be carried ; but the statistical inquirer is perfectlyp,.^
scious of the precarious nature of our paper currency? and justified in assuming, that when we shall have corrected relic
of the danger of such measures as a stoppage of neutral certain errors, such as the restriction on the interest of
navigation, or a war with the United States of America, money, and have removed certain inequalities in our pub-
The conseouence was a depreciation of our bank paper lie burdens, we may look forward to relief from out pie-
' U
during five years, an enormous waste of the public money,
and a burden on the country of unparalleled amount.
A state of war is attended by a great demand for the
service of individuals, as well in the army and navy as in
the public offices. A great number of persons are thus
may
sent distress, and eventually to a most gratifying increase
in our population and wealth.
The prospect in this country, as on the Continent ofand
Europe, is now altogether in favour of peace. There isnocon
longer a preponderant power, like that of France under pea:
metals.
withdrawn from productive employment, and the conse- Bonaparte, to endanger the independence of neighbquiing
quence is an increase of the wages and incomes of those states, or to cherish the illusion of universal sovereignty,
who remain so employed, as well as bringing into activity Besides, the extent of national loss aiising fiom a s.a^t. of
a number of persons who in a season of peace would hard- war has become much moie generally felt since 1814.
ly have been accounted worthy of employment. France feels it in her population ; Austria, in the slow im-
A rise in the price of corn and other produce is another provement of her half cultivated territory; and if in Russia
consequence of a state of war ; this leads to a rise of rent; the government, like the public, is too ignorant to appreciate
a rise of rent to increased expenditure on the part of the the evils of war or the blessings of peace, there is happily
landlord ; and that to a general activity and continued no great reason to dread a power which is so unwieldy in
employment of working classes. Such was the condi- offensive operations. The more we study the resources of
tion of this country during the twenty years from 1794 to England, and become sensible of their increase, the more
1814, while in the nearly equal period that has followed reason we shall find to be indifferent to those coalitions
the peace there has unfortunately been a corresponding with foreign states which were formerly accounted neces-
decline. The fall in the price of produce has lowered sary to maintain our national independence. It follows,
rents, and greatly lessened the income of the upper class- that in forming an estimate of the future, we may safely
es ; hence a contracted expenditure, and a want of em- reckon on a longer enjoyment of peace than has been the
ployment for the lower orders. All this exemplifies the lot of this country for the last century and a half. Now,
precarious nature of such a rise of prices as took place in what is implied by long-continued peace in regard to the
the late wars, and will, more than any other argument, state of trade? Small profits on the capital employed, and
confirm the public in an adherence to peace. low wages to the workmen, but steady prices in produce
Decrease The supply of gold and silver from America continued as in manufactures, and an exemption from the incessant
in the sup-regularly to increase until the year 1810, since which the fluctuations of a state of war. In trance the blessings of
ply of the disorders in Spanish America, particularly in Mexico, have peace, above all of peace.with England, have long been
precious shortened the supply by at least pne half. A decrease in duly appreciated; and it is due to .the public in that
the supply of the precious metals is peculiar to the pre- country to state that, whether under the Bourbons or Bo-
sent age; nothing of the kind has occurred for three cen- naparte, nine tenths of their number never took pait in
turiest and it has doubtless contributed materially to the the aggrandizing views of their government.
pressure on the productive classes since the general peace  ;— . , ,
in 1814. Of the extent of its effect in lowering the prices We shall conclude our historical sketch Of commerce
of commodities, it is not possible, with imperfect data, to by a brief notice of its prominent characteristics at differ*the
form an opinion. According to Mr Jacobs’ lately pub- ent periods. ^ . cal ;«!
fished work on the “ precious metals,” the reduction of The chief features of the commerce of antiquity werecon. ct
the quantity of circulating coin in the last twenty years the early opulence of Tyre, and the great extent of the
has been very considerable, not less than twenty per cent., trade of Carthage, and Alexandria in Egypt. In modern
which, added to the suspension of government expendi- times the earliest points of commercial history entitled
ture, and the reduction of bank paper, has produced all to notice were the prosperity of Venice, Genoa, and other
the various disadvantages which form a contrast to the towns in Italy, the era of whose splendour was the nf-
cheering circumstances attendant on a rise of prices. teenth century. In the sixteenth and seventeenth the
The present is consequently a time of distress from va- lead in commerce was taxen in a remarkable degiee y
rious causes; from contraction of the circulating medium, Holland ; in the eighteenth by England. But as to the
from the magnitude of the transition from general war to effect on commerce of an increase of circulating me-
general peace, and of the continued decline of prices at- diuni, it was felt in the sixteenth century by the mi ux
tendant on such transition. At what time, it may be ask- of the precious metals from America, which caused, it is
ed, is the decline likely to come to a close? When the said, a great rise in prices. Ibis rise continued (^n*n»
prices of our corn and other country produce shall have the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries with a steaay but
fallen nearly to a level with those of our neighbours, and not a remarkable progress. After this came the addition
shall exceed them only by a natural difference, namely, the to the circulating medium, arising from the use of ban
freight and other charges attendant on importation. In paper ; it became considerable only in the eighteenth cen-
manufactures the decline in our prices is already such as tury, particularly in the latter halt of that period, from
to enable us fully to compete with foreigners; and the 1797 to 1814 the issue of bank or government paper was
eventual prospect of trade seems decidedly favourable to carried to an unexampled length in England and other
this country, provided as we are with canals, roads, and countries; the sufferings of the last eighteen years lave
machinery, as well as with abundant capital, intelligent been mainly owing to the re-action proceeding from its re¬
merchants, and expert workmen. What a length of time cal. That period is the only one in the history of modem
will France, Germany, and the United States of America Europe in which the circulating medium has been much
require to arrive at that point in manufactures, and pro- contracted, or the prices of commodities and the income
we have already attain- of individuals have experienced a long-continued decline.
The pre¬
sent dis¬
tress.
ductive industry generally, which
r
C O M M E R C E.
163
jCope-CB.
5f m-
tiK U-
oim ex-
|p| of
tbt
!
t
I
I
I
I
n. principles of commerce. t?00 ln t.ie ^ Indies; of the latter, the oppressive du-Commerce.
. ties on Baltic timber, or the fetters so long imposed by '—•-y-'w'
Having treated the historical part of our subject at con- act of parliament on our country banks,
siderable length, it is now fit to bestow some attention on The belief that it is for the advantage of a nation to
its principles 01 geneial lines. . L>y piinciples of com- manufacture almost every article it consumes, has been
nierce,” we understand conclusions of two kinds ; those the cause of the most serious inconvenience and loss. It
deduced from the practice of merchants, and applicable is thus that in France the making of sugar from beet-root,
to the management of trade by individuals ; and those of and the more serious error of erecting^blast furnaces for
a more comprehensive character, which, resulting from making iron in districts unprovided with coal fuel, has
the course of productive industry generally, are entitled placed a large amount of capital in a situation where it is
to the attention of a minister, a member of Parliament, or subject to reduction year by year, and whence it cannot
whoever is engaged in the task of devising regulations for be withdrawn without heavy loss. In like manner, the
trade. Most of those conclusions seem so plain as to ad- privileges so long conferred by act of parliament on the
mit of little question ; but it is a fact that several of them silk manufacture in England, have all tended to produce
have been the result of long, and, in some cases, of dearly embarrassment, because they interfered with the natural
bought experience. As a specimen we give the following: course of trade. No branch of industry can be of per-
1. Short credits and quick returns, however small the manent advantage to a nation, unless it can support itself
commission or profit, are eventually better than long ere- without indirect or artificial aid. Were merchants and
dits and a large commission or charge. manufacturers left to themselves, the natural course of
2. The greatest mercantile profit arises from intercourse things would point out the branches of productive indus-
with populous and long-settled countries, such as Holland, try likely to succeed or not in a particular country ; and
because the inhabitants are in general possessed of capital, capital would not then be advanced on an insecure f'oun-
and punctual in theii payments. dation. Plain as this appears, it is quite at variance with
3. Recently-settled countries, like the United States of the creed of our ancestors; a creed which, under the
America, the WestTndies, Spanish and Portuguese Ame- name of “ mercantile system,” still retains an influence
rica, are always baie of capital, ihere is a perpetual over our traders, and, in some degree, over members of
tendency in them to draw it from Europe; and mercan- the legislature.
tile transactions with these countries, profitable in the The basis of that system was, that “wealth consisted The mer-
outset, often become otherwise, fiom delays of payment, in the precious metals; that what is gained in trade bycantilesys-
and ultimate insolvency. one nation must be lost by another ; and that our greattem ex"
4. Trade should be left as much as possible to its natural object in receiving returns for our exports should be toPlained'
course, interference being almost always hurtful. Govern- get money instead of merchandise.” It followed from such
ments ought merely to remove obstacles and grant faci- notions, that of all possessions, a mining country, such as
lities. Privileges and monopolies were formerly very Mexico and Peru, was the most desirable; and hence in
general in England; but these, if necessary in an early a great measure our rupture wuth Spain in 1740, which
age, when individual capital was too scanty for distant un- led to our unfortunate expedition to Carthagena, involved
dertakings, should be withdrawn as soon as such capital us in a contest with France, and caused us in the course
becomes sufficient. of eight years an immense waste of blood and treasure.
5. Division and subdivision of employment can be car- The return to a state of peace in 1748 obliged us to de-
ried to only a limited extent in agriculture. In manufac- sist from attempts on Spanish America, but the influence
tures they may be carried very far, and are productive of of the mercantile system continued, and was singularly
the greatest advantage. They afford employment to per- favoured by the annual custom-house returns. These re- Fallacy of
sons of every age, and they conduce greatly to the finish- turns exhibit an apparent excess of exports above imports, custom-
ed execution of work. Hence the superiority of towns, and give rise to the notion that the balance is sent to this house re¬
in particular of the larger towns. This was the cause of country in the shape of money. Supposing the exports 0fturn3-
our manufacturers not going abroad after the peace of England to the Continent of Europe to amount for any given
1815, when wages fell, although provisions were still high year to L.20,000,000, and the imports to L.14,000,000;
priced. the difference, or L.6,000,000, is, according to this absurd
Rules or observations like these are very seldom met notion, the amount of profit paid to us in money. It is
with, either in printed works or in personal intercourse ; clear, however, that the custom-house returns take no no-
and the reason is, that wdiile few departments of industry tice of some very important items, such as the export of
have been followed in practice to so great an extent as public money for our foreign garrisons, the transmission
commerce, hardly any other has been less an object of of bills of exchange to foreign merchants, or the import
study in regard to its principles. While the professions of smuggled goods. Resides, if the quantum of our circu-
of law, medicine, and the church, possess in abundance lating medium remain, as it probably does, very nearly on
printed works for the guidance of those who intend to a par, what becomes of the supposed importation of mo-
follow them, the case is quite different in regard to trade, ney ? Were England in possession of all the annual ba-
There are hardly any books or written compositions for lances which the advocates for this system suppose her
the purpose of instructing the merchant in the practical to have received in money during the last century, our me-
management of his business, and not many containing tallic stock would not be below L.400,000,000 sterling;
statistical or other information connected with trade. To that is, ten times its actual amount!
no profession are written precepts considered to be so When a merchant exports goods, the sale, of course,
little applicable; in none is proficiency thought to depend takes place abroad, and a remittance is made, either by
so exclusively on practice. Hence an unacquaintance bill or by the return of other merchandise. It hardly
with principles or general rules, and the commission of ever enters into the contemplation of the exporter that he
grievous errors, as well by merchants in the pursuit of would find an advantage by obtaining a return in coin or
business, as by members of parliament in the enactment bullion. Money owes the reputation it has acquired, as Wealth
of commercial regulations. Of the former we may take as an object of national interchange, to its convenience in supposed
examples the repeated glutting of foreign markets with other respects; to its being the commodity with which we f° consist
our goods, and the injudicious extension of sugar cultiva- regularly go to market, and to its fitness for the smallest*" gold
^11
164
COMMERCE.
Capital
defined.
Commerce, purchases, by the minuteness of its subdivisions. But this
recommendation, however important in private business,
should have no weight in the intercourse of nations; mer¬
chants can be at no loss to dispose of a remittance made
in the shape of goods, nor is it any object with them to
multiply the means of petty purchases.
The interest of a commercial country is not to increase
the amount of its currency, but to quicken its circulation ;
the same sum performing double and triple duty when pass¬
ed expeditiously from hand to hand. Now nothing promotes
circulation so much as exemption from arbitrary interfer¬
ences, were the effect nothing more than the general pre¬
servation of credit. In France, the monstrous abuse made
of the paper system in the beginning of the Revolution
has long prevented the use of any other circulating medium
than coin ; the result is an annual loss of three millions ster¬
ling to the public, such being the difference between the
cost of paper and the precious metals, even after making an
allowance for the retention of a portion of the lattei suf¬
ficient for the purposes of banking. Some people, how¬
ever, imagine that, to increase the amount of tne cuculat-
ing medium, is to increase the capital of a country, t hese
persons should recollect that capital is by no means limit¬
ed to money, but embraces all that mass of property which
is devoted to reproductive consumption. When we wish
to lend capital, or to employ it in business, we begin by
selling the various articles at our disposal: the amount is
then in our hand in the shape of money; but this is very
transient; the money disappears as soon as we make pay¬
ment for the new purchases. The public not having time
to enter into all this reasoning, judge from first impressions,
and take for granted that money is capital, because its
agency is required to put capital in motion. Governments,
however, might have saved themselves much trouble in
providing supplies of metallic currency, since the natural
course of business will invariably provide them for itself.
The plenty or scarcity of the precious metals depends on
considerations altogether different from the imagined ba¬
lance of trade. Specie was so scarce in England in 1809
that government was not a little embarrassed to find
L.200,000 for the Walcheren expedition ; yet in that year
our custom-house returns presented an apparent balance
of above L.7,000,000 in our favour.1
No country has suffered so much from the errors of the
mercantile system as England; partly on account of the
influence of traders and manufacturers in our legislature;
partly from the temporizing policy of our ministers, who
have seldom scrupled to buy the consent of any great
body of the community to a new tax, by the grant of some
injurious preference. Hence a variety of pernicious regu¬
lations in favour of the landed, the shipping, and the ma¬
nufacturing interests; hence, also, a number of unfortu¬
nate measures in our foreign policy.
Our ancestors laid it down as a fundamental rule, that
there could be no profit on the one hand, without a corre¬
sponding loss on the other. They considered trade as a
game of mere transfer, and had no idea how a country
could derive wealth by an intercourse between its own
inhabitants. Charles II. entered on the war of 1672 with
high hopes, imagining that, by destroying the commerce
of Holland, we should not only increase our own, but in a
in the 17th manner absorb that of the world. Political reasons led us
and 18th afterwards into close alliance with Holland, and prevent¬
ed the ebullitions of our jealousy in that direction ; but the
alarming power of Louis XIV. and the prospect of his ac¬
quiring the crown of Spain, led us to a closer connection
with Portugal, and particularly to the well-known Meth-
Losses to
England
from the
mercantile
system,
centuries.
ven treaty, concluded in 1703, the object of which was toConiL
favour the consumption of port wine, in return for a simi- |v
lar preference to our manufactures. The result has been,
that we have not scrupled, for more than a century, to
punish our palates and injure our health for the sake of
an imaginary political advantage ; we say imaginary, be¬
cause France would evidently have agreed to take our
manufactures in return for her produce; and if the in¬
crease of her trade had, on one hand, the effect of aug¬
menting, to a certain extent, her national power, it would,
on the other, have increased her dependence on us, and
have rendered a war with us extremely impolitic and un¬
popular.
Our attachment to Portugal arose, in a great measure,
from her not being a manufacturing country, and likely,
in the opinion of the calculators of the day, to be so much
the more advantageous to us in the capacity of a custom¬
er. This notion has prevailed in our councils to a very
recent period ; the administration of 1808 and 1809 not
scrupling to give encouragement to the export of merchan¬
dise, on a large scale, to the unproductive occupants of
Brazil and Spanish America. Now, the fact is, that the
means of extending our trade, and consequently our pro¬
fits, with a foreign country, are to be estimated by a quite
opposite rule; they depend on the productive power of
that country, on its means of affording equivalents for our
commodities; in other words, on its capability of paying
for that which it suits us to sell to it. Now, what country
was ever wealthy without industry ? The mines of Mex¬
ico and Peru, the richest the world ever saw, fall, in point
of annual produce, far short of the annual value of the
cotton, the tobacco, the flour, and other less tempting
products of the United States. In like manner, the co¬
chineal, the cocoa, the barilla, and even the indigo of
Spanish America, form a small amount when put in com¬
petition with the exchangeable commodities possessed by
the industrious nations in our own neighbourhood, such as
France, the Netherlands, or the north of Germany.
If from our own favourite policy we turn our attention MerUt
to that of continental states, we find Holland steering aPolk f
course of impartiality, and guarded from an imitation of J“'
our trespasses, not indeed by superior knowledge, but by
the characteristic moderation of her government. The
northern kingdoms deserve comparatively little attention,
their rulers having in general given their thoughts much
more to war than to discussions of internal policy. The
same thing was long true of a country where the commer¬
cial interest has at no time been very considerable; the
personal will of the sovereign, and the influence of the
noblesse, having afforded the grand raisons determinantes
for public measures. Still the history of France is notoff ;e,
without traces of the effects of mercantile prejudices.
Among other regulations of the kind, there formerly ex¬
isted several for the purpose of favouring linen manufac¬
tures instead of cotton, because flax was a home product,
whilst the purchase of cotton carried money out of the
country.
At last it was found out by some Frenchmen of greater
sagacity than the rest, that cotton might be safely admit¬
ted to entry, the money required to buy it proceeding ne¬
cessarily from the employment of French industry in some
shape or other. But the extent of popular prejudice was
most singularly exemplified at the time when it was pro¬
posed to permit the unrestrained use of toiles peintes, or
printed calicoes; every town that had a chamber ot com¬
merce remonstrated against it. A deputation sent from
Rouen affirmed, that “ the proposed measure would throw
1 Appendix to the Report of the Bullion Committee, 1810.
> krce'
fr
COMMERCE.
165
The
lent odi-
bte
of l\ mer.
Cani i sys'
tem
its inhabitants into despair, and make a desert of the sur¬
rounding countryLyons, the centre of the silk manu¬
facture,"declared that “ the news had spread terror into
all its workshops Tours “foresaw a commotion likely to
cause a convulsion in the body politic Amiens asserted
« t]iat the proposed act would become the tomb of the
manufacturing industry of Franceand Paris declared,
“that her merchants came forward that they might bathe
the throne with their tears.” The government, however,
stood firm; the duty on printed calico was withdrawn, and
the inspector-general of manufactures ventured some time
afterwards to challenge the authors of those elegant effu¬
sions to compare their predictions with the result. “ Will
any of you,” he said, “ deny that the manufacture of
printed calico has been the cause of giving a vast exten¬
sion to the industry of the country, by employing a num¬
ber of hands in spinning, weaving, bleaching, and print¬
ing? Look only to the branch of dyeing, and say whether
this change has not done more for it in a few years than
other manufactures would have accomplished in a cen-
tury.”
In some countries government go much farther, and still
act in a commercial or manufacturing capacity, notwith¬
standing all the admonitions of political economists, or the
more home-felt lessons of experience. The Austrian go¬
vernment conducts the gold and silver mines of Hungary
to so little account, that the profit realized from these
splendid establishments does not exceed a few thousands
a year. In the year 1817 the French government, desirous
of laying in a stock of corn for Paris, obtained a loan of
money, with which they made purchases in various mar¬
kets both in and out of the kingdom. The result was most
distressing; the price of corn rose from 80s. to 120s. per
quarter. The people in the provincial towns became ap¬
prehensive of a scarcity, and, though in general submissive
to a fault, attempted at Rouen and other places to impede
the course of the market, and to prescribe a limit to the
price of corn. The alarm, once given, extended through
great part of Europe, and gave occasion to a sudden rise,
as may be seen by reference to the corn prices at the time
in London, Amsterdam, and Hamburg. Nothing is,
therefore, more impolitic than the interference of the pub¬
lic treasury with markets, however good the motive ; a
truth which has been so thoroughly felt in England as to
prevent any thing of the kind during the last forty years,
government having confined itself in seasons of scarcity,
as 1800, 1810, 1816, to permitting the free import of
corn.
We are next to advert to the mercantile system in its most
limited sense, in the shape which it now bears, after all the
modifications of the experience of a century and a half. The
predilection for the importation of “ hard dollars” has disap¬
peared among a portion ofthe public,particularlysince mak¬
ing the discovery that bank paper can be made to answer
the purposes of gold and silver. But even these persons are
far from admitting the doctrines of political economists in
all their extent; they still cling to the notion that we should
discourage the import of a foreign article whenever a cor¬
responding commodity can be raised at home; that we
should impede, or even prohibit, all foreign manufactures ;
and that we should not scruple to encourage certain fa¬
brics of our own by bounties. Such is still the creed of the
great majority of our merchants and manufacturers ; such
■was, twenty years ago, the creed of our ministers and
presidents of the board of trade. It proceeds on the
plausible idea, that we cannot provide too much employ¬
ment, and that our people would be in danger of falling
short of work were we to purchase finished articles at the
hands of foreigners. But there is not in the natural course
of things any such deficiency of labour as to make it ne¬
cessary, or even expedient, for us to turn things out of Commerce,
their regular order for the sake of giving employment to
our population. Providence has evidently ordained that
industry should be at no loss for objects ; the interruptions
to its peaceful course arise from our own wayward policy ;
from our restraints, prohibitions, and, above all, from our
sudden changes from war to peace, and from peace to war.
Ihese are the true causes of such scenes of embarrass¬
ment and bankruptcy as we witnessed in 1793, at the close
of profound peace, and as we have unhappily witnessed
since the end ofthe war in 1815.
Equally erroneous is the notion, that it is more for our in¬
terest to send abroad manufactures than raw produce or mo¬
ney. If you grant a bounty on an export, you do nothing
more or less than bribe a foreigner to make a purchase from
you; you withdraw from its natural destination a portion
of your capital and labour; for the sake of extending one
branch of business, you weaken your means of competition
in others. The money so long paid in the shape of boun¬
ties on one of our most popular exports, we mean British
linen under Is. 6d. a yard, is a public loss not only to the
extent in question, but to twice or three times that extent
in indirect injury; it has withheld the industry of our
countrymen from other lines, which they might have pro¬
secuted without a premium, and in which they would have
no occasion to dread the rivalship of their neighbours.
Mr Hume has justly remarked, that in a question of per¬
sonal right, the perception of a half-educated man may be
sufficiently sound; but that the case is very different in re¬
gard to matters of general policy, where the real is often
different from the apparent result. Now, this state of half
knowledge has been the origin of almost all our mercan¬
tile miscalculations; we have listened to first impressions,
and have not scrupled to give them a practical operation
by acts of parliament, without ever considering that the
remote consequences would be injurious to ourselves.
To what fatality is it then owing, that in this great Cause of
commercial country the public should still be so far behind false views
hand in a knowledge of the principles of trade. Unfortu-111 tra^e'
nately these doctrines, though closely connected with the
national prosperity, have never formed an object of atten¬
tion at the English universities, and but indirectly and
imperfectly in tiiose to the northward of the Tweed. Add
to this, that most of the works hitherto published on po¬
litical economy are written in an abstract, unattractive
style, fatiguing the attention of the reader by a long series
of reasoning, and seldom relieving him by diversity of
subject, or by the introduction of practical illustrations.
The public is still in want of a work which should convey
the liberal doctrines of the philosopher in the plain lan¬
guage of business, and support the course of reasoning by
an appeal to facts familiar to the mind of the merchant.
Our limits do not by any means admit of our supplying
this deficiency, or of bringing forward the arguments ne¬
cessary to erect a structure of conclusive reasoning; they
enable us only to state some of the more important re¬
sults, to which we shall now make a few additions.
We may safely discharge from our minds all that has The true
been said, and all that has been written, in regard to the principles
greater relative advantage attendant in trading in this or°*com'
that particular commodity; we may feel satisfied that
profits are much more on an equality than is commonly
supposed; that no one would long be a dealer in that
which did not afford him advantage, or remain a stranger
to that which was throwing an extra gain into the pockets
of his neighbour. The same rule is applicable in a na¬
tional sense, the traffic in one commodity being either di¬
rectly or indirectly as productive of profit as in another.
Even foreign articles of luxury should not be discouraged,
since the money required to pay for them must be pre-
106
C O M M E R C E.
Commerce.
Trade
ought to be
perfectly
free.
Evil of mo
nopolies.
Commer¬
cial trea¬
ties.
viously raised by the employment of British industry in
some useful manner. This affords a new proof of the fal¬
lacy of first impressions, and leads to the grand practical
conclusion of allowing people to “ buy commodities wher¬
ever they can be got cheapest, without seeking to favoui
home produce above colonial, or colonial above foreign.”
Merchants should possess unrestricted freedom, not only
in regard to the articles they deal in, but in respect to the
timeof keeping them back orbringing them to market;
and this not only from the general title which every one
has to the management of his own property, but from a
conviction that whatever benefits the individual will be
productive of corresponding benefit to the public. 1 his is
a point of the last importance, as reconciling the lower
orders to a variety of unpopular employments of capital,
such as buying up goods to be warehoused, and not
brought to market till prices are advanced, lake, tor in¬
stance, the capitalist who buys a thousand hogsheads of
sugar on its arrival from the West Indies in August, foi
the purpose of selling it in the succeeding March or
April. Such a transaction is of use to all parties, afford¬
ing in the first instance, a customer for the planter or
planter’s correspondent; a depository for the puohc t ur-
insj the season that the article ought in great part to be
stored up; and finally a seller, at a time when without
such deposits and such forthcoming of supply, the price
might have become exorbitant, and might have continued
so until the arrival of the next year’s crop. How appli¬
cable are these arguments to the most obnoxious of all
traders, the engrosser of corn !
The more we study the natural progress of commerce,
the more we shall be satisfied of the expediency of leav¬
ing all its various agents to their uncontrolled manage¬
ment. Business then divides itself, particularly in a large
city, into a variety of separate branches, each of which
may be carried on to a surprising extent by separate esta¬
blishments. The commission charged by such persons is
small, their dispatch extraordinary; capital does not re¬
main locked up in their hands, and goods find their way
to the market whenever prices are encouraging, that is,
whenever the consumers are in want of them; they are
withheld only when the market is glutted, and when to
force sales would be productive of eventual injury to the
buyers themselves. The doctrine of the happy medium is
nowhere more applicable than in commerce : it you reduce
prices for one season below what is necessary to indem¬
nify the producer, you discourage production tor the next,
and you expose yourself to the hazard of a cearth. _
Monopoly is now generally admitted to be highly im¬
politic. No new grants of the kind have been issued
among us for many years, and every renewal of the char¬
ter of our principal existing association, the bast India
Company, has been marked by a diminution of its restric¬
tive character. The public are now aware that a privi¬
leged company cannot make its purchases abroad on bet-
ter terms than individuals, and that the chief operation of
the privilege is to enhance the sale prices, or, in other
words, to put money into the hands of a few at the ex¬
pense of the nation. They are further aware that the
concerns of a large corporation cannot be managed with
the minute economy and vigilance of the private mer¬
chant, and that its grand advantage lies in the intelligence
and dexterity acquired by the transaction of business to
a large extent by one establishment; an advantage of
great importance, but which has nothing to do with the
possession of exclusive pri vileges. . _
It is now about fifty years since the conclusion oi Mr
Pitt’s well-known commercial treaty with France ; a treaty
which many on both sides of the channel were inclined to
think particularly advantageous to us, and which certainly
afforded a grand object of declamation to Bonaparte. ilieCocej^
fact, however, is, that such treaties are good only in as v
fin* as' they give general confidence to the merchants of
both countries; whenever they go faither, and inteifere
by specific provisions, they are infallibly pernicious, and
not the least so to the apparently favoured nation. It
is a symptom of some promise in the present age^ that,
though backed by all Europe, our ministers did not, in the
treaties of either 1814 or 1815, go the length of imposing
any restraints on the trade of trance, but left things to
their free course, subject only to such restrictions as might
be deemed indispensable by either government for the
protection of particular branches of manufacture.
The final conclusions to be drawn from the principles
of commerce are of the most comprehensive and benefi¬
cent nature. They teach us that every nation finds its
account in the prosperity of its neighbours ; that it would
experience a corresponding suffering from their decline;
that to aim at engrossing more trade than naturally falls
to our share, is sooner or later injurious to ourselves ; and
that war, even when successful, is attended with the most
serious losses. War turns to waste a large portion of our
productive means; it leaves us oppressed with a ruinous
burden in peace; it impedes the futuie extension of our
exports, for the injury done to our neighbours recoils on
ourselves; in short, it is so replete with evil to the public
and individuals, as to be justifiable only in an extieme
case, such as the defence of national independence, or the
overthrow of a tyrannical usurper.
Division and subdivision of employment forms the greatbi ,,!
distinction between a backward and an improved state of™
productive industry. It increases the efficiency of the™"<
mechanic or manufacturer to an extent of which no one
1
adv;
111 t i'-' 1 i cn ^ ^ ^ ' dUvi
who has not studied the subject can have an adepuatetag;
conception. Now, the degree to which employment is
subdivided depends mainly on the size of a city or town;
and in estimating the state of civilization in a particular
country, we cannot have a better guide than the propor¬
tion of the inhabitants of towns to those of the open coun¬
try. Flanders and Holland were long the most improved
part of the north of Europe, and had the greatest number
of towns on a given extent of territory. This they still
have, with the exception of the counties (Lancashire and
the West Riding of York) which are the chief seats of
our manufactures. After the Netherlands in town popu¬
lation come the north of Italy and north-east of trance,
along with the western part of Germany. Prussia and
Austria have each a comparatively small number of towns;
Poland has still fewer, and Russia is the most deficient ot
any country in Europe. In England the increase of town
population has been progressive during the last sixty or
seventy years, and bids fair to go on in an equal or greater
The division of employment is the result of commerce
and of increased population. It is of two kinds; that
among individuals, by which a specific task is appropriated
to each, and that among nations, by which particular
kinds of products are raised to a greater extent in one
country than in another. The latter is as yet only begin¬
ning to claim the attention of public men, for it has been
a frequent error with government to establish, m the r
respective territories, a variety of manufactures, without
sufficiently weighing the local obstacles or disadvantages.
Of this France furnishes some striking examples, particu¬
larly in the case of iron. The abundance of coal m Eng¬
land, and the ease in conveying it, and other bu 7 § ’
by canals, give to our manufactures of iron and hardware
an advantage which France in vain endeavours to equa.
Her true policy would be to repeal the very heavy duties
on the import of our iron and hardware, and to trust t
Col erce-her means of supplying us with wine, brandy, and the other our countrymen, and of the actual capital of the buyers Comment
COMMERCE.
ie:
Pri
of
me
ho\j r
unc
abr
natural products of her country to an equal or greater being much inferior toils appearance. Secrecy both as to
amount. caP'*:a^ anfl annual Profit is considered as a first-rate point
pies In point of knowledge of the great doctrines of political amongst mercantile men. To the latter there can be no
- economy, Germany, or, to speak more properly, the pro- objection ; but the concealment of the amount of capital
testant part of Germany, particularly Saxony, may be and the almost invariable consequence, its exa^eration’
toodsaid to take the lead of other countries on the Continent, are productive of very pernicious elfects. It is founded
The Dutch, however exemplary in their practical legisla- partly on the general vanity, and more perhaps on an ex-
tion, have little turn for speculative reasoning ; the French pectation of advantage from a command of credit. But
have not patience to follow through its various links a were the practice of transacting with ready money to
chain of philosophical deductions; but their admiration of become general, a merchant would have no greater mo-
whatever is humane or liberal makes them wonderfully live to be thought in affluence than an individual in any
delighted with the brilliant conclusions of the science, other line. But be this as it may, the fact is, that the
They have the advantage of possessing, in the work of clear profits of trade, whether home or foreign, whether
the late J. B. Say, the best arranged general treatise that mercantile or manufacturing, whether retail or wholesale,
has hitherto appeared on the subject; and they are by no ... • - - - -
means ill prepared for a very extensive application of po¬
litical improvements, such as the abolition of privateering,
the repeal of all heavy duties on foreign goods, and the
Lim
profi
trcdt
are greatly below what the world imagines. Many hold
a contrary language with regard to trade in general; but
few do^so in respect to their own particular business.
" Ours,” say they, “ is of limited emolument; but other
substitution of inland taxes for those custom-house imposts lines are very different, inasmuch as they admit ofspecu-
which impede the free communication of nations. The lation and of higher charges.” Whoever takes the trou-
rest of Europe is so much in the dark in regard to the ble to question men in almost any business or profession
great truths of political science as to see merely through the may reckon on receiving a succession of such answers ;
medium of local governments. Such is the case even in answers not suggested by a wish to deceive or to conceal
Italy, although that country can boast individuals of some the profits of the individual, but originating in the general
note among the writers on the principles of commerce, disposition to take the ignotum pro magriifico. We dwell
stricted application of these simple and beneficent prin- taking course which was the basis of the prosperity of our
ciples. Particular branches of trade are loaded with taxes ancestors, and which alone can extricate us from our pre-
which cannot be for some time removed; since to throw sent embarrassments. During the war such language would
open our ports to the unrestrained import of foreign mer- not have been listened to; our minds were kept in a fer-
chandise might lead to a serious derangement of industry, ment by incessant fluctuations; property, whether in land,
It was admitted by all parties in parliament, in a memora- houses, or merchandise, had obtained an unexampled va-
ble debate (13th March 1817), that “ unbounded freedom lue ; the majority of the possessors considered themselves
in trade was our true policy ;” but it was urged that, to as men of assured fortune, and never doubted that the ge-
resort to such a course, would overthrow too many private neral rise of prices was an evidence of augmented national
interests, and raise too general a clamour, to be practica- wealth. Now that a long interval has elapsed, and that
ble for a number of years. All that could then be done we know to our cost how far w'e are from enjoying nation-
was to acknowledge the true system, to approximate to it al prosperity, w^e are more disposed to give attention to the
gradually but surely, to renounce the errors of our ances- monitor who recals the almost antiquated maxims of in-
tors, and, in point of taxation, to impose duties merely dustry and economy, and who tells us that, though we
for the purpose of revenue, never with the view of encou- surpass our neighbours in activity and combination, we
raging any particular branch at the expense of another, have much to learn from tljem, both in point of caution
Such, happily, has been the course pursued by govern- in enterprise, and of moderation in expenditure,
ment since the period in question ; and we are now (1833)
considerably advanced towards a state which may admit
of the adoption in practice of the free trade doctrines.
Having thus briefly stated the principles of free trade,
we shall proceed to the practical topics which we propos¬
ed to discuss, beginning with the consideration of the ave¬
rage profit of capital employed in trade.
1. It was common during the war to estimate the emolu¬
ment of a wholesale business in Britain, in a well estab¬
lished concern, at ten per cent, on the capital. Moderate
calculators qualified this by calling it between eight and
ten per cent.; but they who were at great pains to take
every thing into the account, and to enumerate a variety
of petty deductions which escape the sanguine reckoner,
found that, in a large concern, seven per cent, was in ge¬
neral the extent of the clear earnings, leaving only two
Let us next see how far these opinions are support¬
ed by' official documents. The returns for the property-
tax during the war afforded considerable means of ascer¬
taining the circumstances of persons engaged in trade. If
it be objected that many' persons did not make a fair re¬
turn, it may be rejoined, on the other hand, that a number
chose to conceal their disappointments from the world,
and to pay the tax on an income which they had not
realized. The total number of families deriving an in¬
come from trade, manufacture, and professions in Eng¬
land, Wales, and Scotland, is about 160,000.
120,000 of these returned their incomes under L.150 a Returns
year. under the
40,000 were above L.150 a year; and of these, property
3800 declared their income to exceed L.I000 a year-.
Now, let any of our readers compare this statement
tax.
per cent, above that which was the current rate of interest with their previous ideas of the mercantile wealth of Great
during the war. Britain, and they will bring to mind, if we are not much
Mercantile profits are subject to a variety of unforeseen mistaken, an impression that the number of rich merchants
deductions, originating partly' in an accumulation of petty throughout the empire greatly exceeded 3800. The total
expenses; but more, at least in business of long credit, sum paid as property-tax under the head of the “ profits
from deficient payments. The latter are technically call- of trade, manufactures, and professions,” for 1814, was
ed bad debts, and almost always exceed the anticipated somewhat under three and a half millions, a sum certain-
amount, in consequence both of the sanguine temper of ly not to be paralleled in any other country, but falling
168
COMMERCE.
Commerce, considerably below the anticipation of Mr Pitt when he
first introduced the income tax, so long ago as 1798.
We have naturally a strong disposition to contemplate
the past or the distant through a magnifying medium, and
to believe whatever the confident assertions of others, or
the love of wonder in ourselves, suggests with regard to
reported wealth. Hence the allegations so confidently
brought forward in regard to the riches of ancient cities,
and the notion generally entertained with respect to the
rapidity of fortune-making in our foreign settlements.
The East India was long proverbial in this respect; and it requires
Indies. much more than the usual stock of information to discover,
that if we make allowance for deaths, and disappointments
from various causes, the proportion of those who succeed
in that country is not greater than at home ; and that a for¬
tune, when it does happen to be made, is the result of the
length of time, of a habit of saving favoured by exemption
from the expense of a family, of rare political contingen¬
cies, or, finally, of unusual opportunities consequent on
the mortality of competitors. In point of trade few coun¬
tries are more limited than India. In support of these as¬
sertions, we appeal not to the young beginner, entering
with sanguine hopes on his career, nor even to him who is
advanced half-way in the eager pursuit, but to all who
have passed a number of years in that country, and who pos¬
sess sufficient reflection to make a deliberate survey be¬
tween the mother country and her settlements. Particu¬
lar instances may be given of the acquisition of mercantile
fortunes even in the last ten or twelve years in India, but
these have been rare, and the result of peculiar circum¬
stances.
Another point in which delusion prevails, relates to the
effects of war, particularly that of 1793 ; a war in which
we still believe ourselves, and are believed by foreigners,
to have engrossed and absorbed the commerce of the world.
A reference, however, to official documents will show that
the exports and imports of the most boasted years of the
war in question were below those of our late years of suf¬
fering. The flag of our enemies was indeed expelled
from the ocean, but the greater proportion of trade passed
into the hands of neutrals; and when, in 1808, we took
it out of their possession, we were taught, by dear-bought
experience, that war, under any circumstances, is adverse
to commerce.
These observations must be understood not as intended
to depreciate the value of commerce, or to damp in the
individual the hopes of eventual success. They show, in¬
deed, that the ratio of profit is generally small, but they
afford the consolatory assurance that mercantile concerns
may be carried to a great extent, and that the amount of
gain may, in process of time, be rendered very consider¬
able. This leads us to advert to a matter of great inte¬
rest to us as we now stand relatively to the rival coun¬
tries of the Continent. It is a maxim, that commercial
establishments, whether in the mercantile or manufactur¬
ing line, should be confined to a few objects, and conduct¬
ed on a large scale. It is by this only that the task of in¬
dividuals can be simplified, that employment can be sub¬
divided, that work can be put quickly through hands, or
that we can provide on the spot a supply of the various
and indispensable requisites of business. A large esta¬
blishment affords the means of employment to every kind
of capacity; in fact, the duty is so facilitated as to become,
in many cases, a mere routine : while the more intelligent
and attentive workmen act as superintendents, the mass
of the unambitious and unthinking are occupied with the
detail. It is owing to this process of subdivision, and to
the relative magnitude of the London workshops, that
many articles can be supplied in our metropolis as cheap¬
ly as in the provincial towns, where labour is 40 per cent.
lower. The same rule accounts for the charge on the trans- Corr;
action of business by merchants, accountants, attornies, '*-4
notaries, and agents, being less heavy than might be ap¬
prehended from the greater expense of living in London.
Similar results take place in regard to manufacture in such
towns as Birmingham, Sheffield, Manchester, Leeds ; and
it is to this, more than to any other cause, that we owe
our ability to compete with the cheaper labour of the Con¬
tinent.
2. This analysis of the profit of trade leads us to say a Spec
few words on a topic "which has hitherto been very gene-110"
rally misunderstood, we mean the profits of speculation intrad:
trade. Among men of business this expression is applied
to incurring extensive hazards in the hope of extensive
emolument; in short, to whatever is foreign to the proper
business of the individual, or beyond the control of com¬
mon rules. It is to such undertakings that vulgar credu¬
lity ascribes extraordinary profits; and even well-inform¬
ed men are apt to give wray to the assertions so confident¬
ly made, of vast occasional gains in this line of business.
Ur Smith himself, after remarking ( Wealth of Nations,
book i. chap. 10) that to make a fortune in a regular line
commonly requires a long life of industry and frugality,
adds, no doubt on the faith of repeated assurances from
mercantile friends, that there are many examples of for¬
tunes realized by speculators in the course of a few years.
Now, the men who embark in speculation are, in general,
very loose accountants; their estimate of profits applies
to the gross, never to the net return : besides, they are
almost always adventurers, and adventurers are seldom
noted for the observance of truth. Their favourite sea¬
son of activity is a time like that of 1808, wrhen the sud¬
den stoppage of ordinary intercourse caused a rapid fluc¬
tuation in the price of commodities, and when the regular
merchants withdrew from the scene. Now, what sober
estimate can be formed of loss or gain in such a chaos ?
Add to this, that these men trade almost always on credit,
and are in need of all the support which flattering repre¬
sentations, and rumours of sudden profit, can give them.
All these reasons seem to justify a deliberate inquirer in
doing what is seldom done on such occasions, we mean
in withholding his belief from the confident allegations
of speculators, so long as they are not supported by colla¬
teral evidence.
Our opinion is, that instead of the large profits com-lr<jfl
monly ascribed to this course of trade, the individuals con-“
cerned in it experience little else than disappointments,1
and maintain a perpetual struggle to keep up a fair ap¬
pearance to the world. This opinion is founded partly on
a knowledge of the actual career and circumstances of
speculators, but more on the well-known fact, that almost
every line of business is in the hands of established mer¬
chants, who, of course, are too vigilant to overlook the op¬
portunity of emolument, and who have much better means
of information than temporary interlopers. Still, should
there remain doubts as to the accuracy of our opinion,
the question may be brought to a point by reference to
the account-books of any given number of celebrated spe¬
culators ; their affairs end almost always in bankruptcy;
their papers continue open to access for years in the hands
of their solicitors or assignees ; and we are much mistaken
if an inspection of them would show in one case out of ten,
that the parties had at any period succeeded in realizing
their boasted profits.
We have been induced to dwell the more on the boasts^ j
of speculators, because they are productive of great nfis-Spet.
chief in unsettling persons in business, particularly young tiori
men, and in making them look on their proper line with
comparative indifference. It would be endless to attempt
an enumeration of the various ways in which the rage ioi
COMMERCE.
nerce. speculation lias brought misfortune on merchants and
manufacturers. The opening of a new country, such as
Buenos Ayres, Brazil, or Caraccas, led to the export not
only of a prodigious overstock of merchandise fitted for
the country, but of many articles totally unsuited to the
climate and habits of the people. Again, in 1814, when
the war with France was drawing to a close, goods, both
colonial and manufactured, were poured into the Conti¬
nent of Europe, as if the compass of the markets was un¬
bounded, and as if the calamities of war had produced no
decrease of disposable capital. In 1825, our speculations
abroad were most unfortunate, while at home vast sums
were lavished in buildings, in mines, in manufactories, and
other establishments, which never had a fair prospect of
success, and owed their origin to the sanguine imagina¬
tion of one projector, and the credulity of another.
The result of all this is, that hitherto our trading con¬
cerns have been very much mismanaged ; that a great
deal of property has been wasted by the inexperienced and
over-sanguine; and that those who really expect to suc¬
ceed in business must lay their account with submitting
not only to a deal of labour, but of self-denial in resisting
the temptation of projects out of their own line. What a
beneficial result would be produced were young mer¬
chants to adopt it as a rule not to listen to the ardent
suggestions of persons of their own time of life, but to re¬
cur on every question of importance to the advice of their
seniors; of men who have had to make their own way in
the world, and who perhaps, without possessing the ad¬
vantage of education, or the talent of moulding their rea¬
soning into the form of general principles, will still be
found safe counsellors in the practical parts of business.
If the results of their admonitions be to abridge some of
the pleasing illusions of the mercantile beginner, is it not
better that the true nature of his prospects should be
made known to him in the early part of life ? A deduc¬
tion from anticipated enjoyment is a trifling sacrifice in
comparison with the distress produced by failure in more
advanced years, when the individual is less able to con¬
tend with difficulty, and has probably to provide for a
family. Let any one extensively acquainted with mer¬
cantile men call to recollection the situation of the majo¬
rity of his personal friends during the last twenty years,
and say whether any degree of self-denial wrould not be
preferable to that succession of disappointments, anxieties,
and losses, which have baffled the exertions and broken
the spirits of so many meritorious persons,
ad; The country in which trade shone forth in all its splen-
truc-dour, where it was cultivated without the support of
arms or prohibitory regulations, where, in short, it deve¬
loped its beneficial tendency in all its extent, was Hol¬
land. If we look to the early enterprises of the Dutch,
we find them enabled, by the power of their productive
industry, to assert their independence at home, and to
assail their enemies in the remotest part of their empire.
The Portuguese in the east, and the Spaniards in the west,
were each found unequal to the task of resisting these re¬
publicans. A proud stand urns made by them against the
navy of England, and they did not fall into despair even
when assailed by our forces in conjunction with those of
France. Afterwards, when happily restored to our al¬
liance, and when they co-operated with us in the great
struggle against Louis XIV., it is surprising how large a
proportion both of troops and subsidies was furnished by
this apparently inconsiderable state. “ No country,” says
Sir William Temple, “ can be found where so vast a trade
has been managed, yet the inhabitants have no native
commodities towards building vessels, and hardly any
that are considerable for traffic with their neighbours.
Holland is grown rich by force of industry, by improve-
VOL. VII.
ment and manufacture of foreign growths.” Proceeding Commerce,
to specify more particularly the causes of this mercantile '
prosperity, Sir William enumerates “ the easy communi¬
cation of w’ater, particularly by the Rhine and Maese;
the security of property; the undisturbed liberty of con¬
science, and the progressive influx of people persecuted
for their religious opinions in Handers, England, France,
and Germany. Such were the original causes: those of
subsequent operation were the “ general habit of industry
and economy; the formation of canals; the institution of
banks; the low interest of money; the appropriation of
particular towns to particular branches of business; ap¬
plication to the fisheries, and, what he regrets much
should not exist in England, the practice of keeping an
official register of all purchases of land or houses;” a prac¬
tice introduced into Holland and Flanders in the reign
of Charles V. to the incalculable convenience and secu¬
rity of money transactions.
3. We are now to say a few words on a different topic, Effects of
namely, the effects of trade in forming the character of in-trade upon
dividuals; a matter of no little importance in a countryintiividuals.
like ours, where merchants both constitute so large a por¬
tion of the community, and exercise such influence on the
proceedings of government. The mercantile character
has a number of good points, being exempt from the va¬
cuity and indecision so frequent in fashionable life, as well
as from the various vices consequent on idleness, and
which are so strikingly exemplified in the gambling and
libertinism of the French metropolis. Whatever good is
produced by continued activity, and by a pointed atten¬
tion to the specific objects of one’s occupation, may be
confidently looked for among commercial men ; with the
farther advantage, in large concerns, of an exemption
from petty jealousies and invidious interferences. In such
cities as London and Amsterdam, merchants are aware
that the field is ample for all; that the prosperity of one is
very far from impeding that of others; and that when dis¬
appointment and failure occur, their origin is to be sought
in a very different cause from competition. Here, how¬
ever, we must close our encomium, and, in the spirit of
impartiality, proceed to exhibit the opposite side of the
picture. The merchant’s knowledge is particular, not ge-Merchants
neral; he obtains a habit of understanding individual cha-unaccus-
racter, and a dexterity in managing his own affairs; buttomed to
he has not, and cannot, from his course of occupation, ac-Sfneral
quire the power of reasoning comprehensively on the in-'10''*”
terests of trade. Fie is accordingly a very unfit adviser,
or even referee, for a minister or legislator, being accus¬
tomed to draw his deductions from his own particular
branch of business, or apt, if he go put of it, to form a
hasty judgment from first impressions. If he observe in
war a tendency to raise prices, or to invigorate particular
lines of trade, such as ship-owning or insurance, he will
probably be led to the general inference, that, to a mari¬
time country, war is advantageous. Our last contests
having been attended with the undisputed command of
the ocean, nothing more was required to satisfy the majo¬
rity of traders that our mercantile marine was in a state
of equal ascendency. They took cm pied de la lettre the cus¬
tom-house reports of our annual exports, without observing
how much was to be deducted on account of the depre¬
ciation of our bank paper, or how surely we were laying
the foundation of future distress, by submitting to enor¬
mous taxation. Again, when in 1807 the long continu¬
ance of war had given a serious wound to our trade and
navigation, a majority of the merchants ascribed it, not to
the true cause, but to the undermining competition of the^
Americans. Their range of reflection was not such as toei^one0yS
enable them to perceive that, by overturning the prospe-impres.
rity of the latter, we should sap the foundation of oursions.
y
L
170
COMMERCE.
Commerce.
Bad effect
of long cre¬
dits ;
exempli¬
fied in our
export
business.
own; and that every million which-we prevented our
Transatlantic neighbours from adding to their capital,
was so much withdrawn from a fund devoted to the in¬
crease of the productive industry of Britain. Hence our
unfortunate orders in council, the main cause of the over¬
throw of our exchanges with the Continent, of the in¬
crease of our expenses in Spain and Germany, of our
war with the United States, in short, of the long con¬
tinuance of our sufferings since the peace. Can it be ne¬
cessary to add more to demonstrate the impolicy of being
guided in general questions by mercantile men ? Let
them confine themselves to the sphere of practical exer¬
tion ; a sphere sufficiently wide to gratify the most ac¬
tively ardent, assured as they well may be that it is not
only the road to individual wealth, but tbe means of fur¬
nishing a substantial addition to the national resources.
4. Nothing would, in our opinion, conduce more to the
prosperity of trade than the adoption of the plan of doing
all wholesale business for ready money, and the relin¬
quishment of that habit of long credit which prompts to
unguarded enterprise, and has for so many years been the
principal cause of crowding the columns of our Gazettes.
Hopes of a change in this respect may now be confident¬
ly entertained, partly from the greater plenty of money
consequent on continued peace, more from the general
conviction of the impolicy of limiting the rate of interest
by law. The effects of a repeal of the usury laws have
been little anticipated, but we venture to predict that the
extent of beneficial change will far outrun the expecta¬
tions of the supporters of the measure.
To show the results of long credit, it is necessary to go
at some length into practical illustration, and to apprise
our readers of the real situation of the majority of our
manufacturers and export merchants. A manufacturer on
the present footing receives orders in the course of the
year from twenty or thirty mercantile houses; the goods
to be exported probably to the West Indies, the United
States, the Spanish Main, or Brazil; the understood term
of credit twelve months. The manufacturer does not re¬
ceive the orders from abroad; he has an intermediate
guarantee, that of the exporting merchant. Still the risk
is considerable ; but he naturally hopes for the best, and
is unwilling to decline an order when it comes to him from
a quarter of respectability. Now by mercantile respecta¬
bility our readers are to understand integrity, and the in¬
tention of acting up to engagements ; but the power of do¬
ing so, especially at a remote date, is a very different ques¬
tion, and is, in general, possessed in a much smaller de¬
gree than the public imagine. The trader whose capital
is L.30,000 will not scruple to ship goods to the value of
L.40,000, first in the hope, so general among merchants,
of realising a handsome profit, and next in the confidence
that should the foreign market be dull, and should delays
occur in obtaining returns within the given time, his cre¬
dit will procure him indulgence for several months, at the
end of which the expected remittances can hardly fail to
arrive. He may, and in general does go on for several
years without much embarrassment, receiving indeed less
than he sends out, but informed that all has been well
gold, and cannot fail to be soon realised. He thus goes on
pleasing himself at every balance of his books with the
seeming profit, and only regretting that hitherto that pro¬
fit has not been tangible, since it exists in tbe shape of a
debt due by his Transatlantic correspondents. He con¬
tinues, however, under a favourable expectation of their
making up for past deficiencies, and flatters himself that
the delay has resulted from partial or temporary causes.
He begins to find himself straitened for funds, but has
as yet little difficulty in obtaining relief from a monied
friend, or a prolonged credit from the manufacturers. His
l
correspondents continue to write in a strain of confidence, Cci tf
and to call for more goods, which, if he be of a confiding ^ v
character, will lead him to extend the annual amount of
his shipments; but at all events he is obliged to continue
a certain supply, for the sake of keeping up the assortment
of stock. Still he finds that year after year a larger por¬
tion of Ins 'capital remains on the other side of the Atlan¬
tic, and that his correspondents, however desirous (for we
by no means put an extreme case), are unable to prevent
an accumulation of debt, because they are in like man¬
ner left unpaid by the inhabitants of the countiy. do go
to law would be of no avail, since it is the policy of al¬
most every government in a recently-settled country to
favour the debtor, and to give him the means of retaining
capital in his hands. Affairs now begin to be seiious with
tbe exporter; the manufacturers and other creditois can¬
not or will not give further time, and demand an explana¬
tion of his circumstances. This explanation takes place,
and serves to show that their debtor is a man of honour,
with more assets than debts, but the latter are certain,
while the former are at a distance of 3000 miles. The con¬
sequence is a grant of time, an allow'ance to the debtor of
two, three, or four years, to act under lettei of license, in
the hope of accomplishing that which, it is evident, cannot
be performed sooner. This is, in general, both the wisest
and most liberal course; still it is not often found to suc¬
ceed, because the foreign debts can seldom be realised in
climates where life is held by so uncertain a tenuie, where
respectable agents are so rarely found, where buyers of
goods have so little capital, and, above all, where the law
allows them such a length of time for payment. A few of
the promised instalments are probably made good, but in
general the merchant recognises the impracticability of ful¬
filling the remainder, and finds it eventually necessary to
submit to bankruptcy. Such has been the case of a very
large proportion of the mercantile establishments in our
outports, and even in London, during the last twenty years.
Distressing indeed has been the catalogue as exhibited in
the Gazette, particularly in 1810, 1816, 1819, 1826; but
even at present the public are not aware of the real ex¬
tent of the failures, because in very many the arrange¬
ments are private. Add to this, that the attention of the
public is seldom so long directed to one object as to lead
to conclusions of the general nature now mentioned. The
fact, however, is, that"old establishments, we mean houses
that go back for half a century or more, are almost the
only ones which escape insolvency. Among houses of re¬
cent origin, what a succession of failures have taken place
in Liverpool, Glasgow, Manchester, Birmingham, and even
in London! But we forbear to enlarge on this distressing
picture, and turn for relief to countries which have been
exposed to considerable shocks, but which have never con¬
ducted business on the system of long credit.
If we begin with Holland, we find that bargains in that II
country were, in its better days, almost always made for“ rr
ready money, or for so short a date as six weeks or two^.
months; profits were small in their ratio, but the quick¬
ness of returns made them eventually large ; failures were
rare, even in so distressing an era as the occupation of
their country by the French, which began in 1/95, and
involved, from the outset, a stoppage of maritime inter¬
course with all their possessions in India and America.
The consequence of this stoppage was a decay of trade, a
suspension of various undertakings, a scarcity of work, a
miserable dulness in the sale of goods ; all leading, in the
first instance, to diminished income, and eventually to
encroachment on capital; but, amidst this distress, the
failures were surprisingly few, fewer indeed than occur in
Britain in any ordinary season. Another example, equally
replete with instruction, was the state of France after tie
, sh
F
rce. double invasion of 1814 and 1815. There prevailed at
i i . <-» rrorvoval icr'nnmrrovyion t n nnrv tlio nr\r>oi'
C O M MERC E.
17J
that time a general discouragement among the upper
ranks, and a great deal of wretchedness among the lower,
trade being at a stand, and stocks of goods lying unsold
in shops or warehouses for years; still bankruptcy was ex¬
ceedingly rare. All this shows what a satisfactory prospect
we may anticipate when we adopt the plan of transacting
the greater part of our business for ready money.
5. Yet we are far from recommending any law or mea¬
sure to enforce that object; the evident advantage of the
,1 |ii°fplan will not fail to secure its adoption, whenever we suc-
jy (,ee(i in obtaining the removal of the grand legal impedi¬
ment. What, it may be asked, do we mean by this impe¬
diment? We answer, that law which imposes a forced li¬
mitation on the rate of interest. By that law, a capitalist
is not permitted to take more than five per cent, interest
for the loan of money, whatever may be the risk. If he
exceed that limit he renders himself liable to the ruinous
penalties of the laws, or to all the hazards attendant on a
mercantile partnership,—hazards which may affect not
merely the sum advanced, but the whole of his fortune.
He is consequently obliged to seek other means of em¬
ploying his money; vesting it in the public funds, con¬
fining it to the discount of the best mercantile bills, lend¬
ing it on mortgage, and not unfrequently sending it out
of the country, tempted by the higher interest given in
France and other parts of the Continent. Now there are
nd iof in all mercantile cities, and particularly in London, a body
ipi!)- of capitalists, who are too well aware of the hazards of
trade to expose their w/tofe property to them, but who
would gladly bring forward a fourth, a third, or even a
half of it, in the hope of realizing an increased income,
and for the sake of enjoying that gratification which at¬
tends active employment, and the indulgence of hope and
prospect. Men of business are ill fitted for absolute re¬
tirement ; the object of their latter years is to lessen anxi¬
ety, not to withdraw entirely from the scene of activity.
Their habits, their calculations, their attachments, all keep
them in connection with their early friends, and with the
scene of their exertions; the point, therefore, should be
not to urge them, as the law has hitherto done, to an
abrupt dereliction of mercantile chances, but to enable
them to continue them in a greater or lesser degree, as
may suit their circumstances or individual character.
Such would be the effect of a repeal of the usury laws
sr. in regard to the lender of money. Let us next advert to
the situation of the borrower. There is a general dispo¬
sition in merchants to carry their business beyond the
extent of their personal capital, a disposition which has,
doubtless, frequently been carried to excess, but which
ought by no means to be subjected to unqualified censure.
No one can pretend to draw a general line of distinction
between laudable enterprise and sanguine speculation ; it
must be left to the decision of the individual, and of the
connections who support him. Often will it happen that
a man of talent and judgment finds his personal funds in¬
adequate to enter on the field of fair and legitimate en¬
terprise, or to procure him an adequate share in an esta¬
blished business. We are perfectly aware that in London
men of this description frequently succeed, in the middle
or latter part of life, in becoming partners in well-esta¬
blished concerns; but it is equally true that many of them
are doomed to a different lot, and pass their life in unin-
structive routine. Counting-house occupation is carried
on in comparative retirement; it presents no opportunities
of public appearance, as the profession of the law; and
years pass away without bringing an individual into no¬
tice with others than his employers and immediate con¬
nections. Hence the importance of removing a great im¬
pediment imposed by our usury laws, which prevent the
tbj
rr«
capitalist from coming forward to the aid of a promising Commerce,
beginner.
Let us next say a few words on the situation of our ma- Relief to
nufacturers. As a disposition to enterprise exists strongly the manu-
among our export merchants, the result is, that businessfacturer*
must be done ; and, if not for money, for credit. On whom
then shall the responsibility fall ? “ Not,” says the law,
“ on the capitalist; if he take more than five per cent, he
shall subject himself to the penalties of usury, or he shall
risk his whole fortune by a partnership.” The spirit of
adventure is not, however, to be restrained; orders ar¬
rive, and goods must be supplied ; the burden of credit is
then made to devolve upon the furnishers of these goods,
whether manufacturers or wholesale venders. It would
be in vain for these persons, particularly the former, to
urge that it is entirely out of their line to judge of the
stability of the exporting merchant, residing, as he gene¬
rally does, in a different quarter, and connected with peo¬
ple to whom they are strangers. The case is peremp¬
tory^, “ if ?/oie do not give credit, wre must apply to others
who will.” The alternative of the manufacturer or whole¬
sale vender is then to make such additional charge on his
goods as may prove an indemnity for his average loss ; a
charge amounting to ten, twelve, or fifteen per cent., and
which, besides its magnitude, has the unfortunate effect
of pressing equally on the solvent and insolvent buyers.
How different will be the case when the capitalist shall
find himself at liberty to stipulate a rate of interest pro¬
portioned to his risk ! He will look around the circle of
his mercantile friends for a man of honour and prudence,
offer to supply his deficiency of pecuniary means, receive
such security^ as the case admits of, and bargain, not for
a share in the adventure, but for an extra interest, and
the repayment of his money at a remote date. This im¬
portant point once adjusted, what does the merchant do ?
He goes to the manufacturer, not as at present, to ask
credit for twelve or fourteen months, but with ready mo¬
ney in his hands. What a surprising difference does this
make to the manufacturer! Instead of adding, and being
in fact obliged in self-defence to add, the large sum men¬
tioned above, he sells, and sells cheerfully, at so trifling a
profit as two and a half, two, or one and a half per cent,
for ready money. Nothing can be more erroneous than
to suspect a real man of business of aiming at a high pro¬
fit ; security, quick returns, and exemption from perplexed
accounts, are his objects; and, when paid in cash, he is
saved so much trouble and uncertainty, that his demand
becomes extremely moderate. The manufacturer looks
for no other indemnity^ than, first, a reimbursement of his
outlay for the raw material, next a small consideration
for the expense of his establishment in rent and salaries,
and, finally, a still smaller for his personal trouble. An
enlarged income is no doubt his eventual hope; but that,
he is conscious, must arise, not from swelling his charge,
but from extending the scale of his business. Observe the and to
admirable effects of the ready money plan on the progres-traders gc-
sive ramification of business:—it affords the manufacturer nera%*
the power of purchasing the raw' material for ready mo¬
ney ; he obtains it at a reduced price, exactly as the
merchant obtains the finished article from him ; accounts
are greatly simplified ; a briskness is given to mercantile
transactions iti all their stages ; an important reduction
takes place in the price of export goods; and we become
much more able to stand the competition of foreign manu¬
facturers. It is, moreover, no insignificant advantage that
our traders are thus enabled to know' their real situation,
and to be aware of the limits of their income, while as¬
sured of the security of the principal. They thus become
better calculators, and avoid those expenses which steal
so naturally on the mind of a person accustomed to view
Mi
COMMERCE.
Commerce.his profits through a magnifying medium, and which are
one of the great causes of bankruptcy being so much more
frequent among merchants than in the other classes of
society.
Conse- Among other advantages resulting from the adoption of
In^in col" suc^ a P*an> would be that of saving a heavy expense, in-
lectiiKJ00" curred at present by many houses in the collection of
debts ; debts. A travelling clerk can bardly cost less than L.400
or L.500 a year; and, in the metropolis, where such col¬
lections are made by a partner or principal clerk, a great
deal of precious time is lost in repeated calls on tbe one
hand, and on the other in expedients to postpone tbe day of
settlement. We should no longer see new establishments
seeking to procure orders by outbidding their neighbours
in offers of prolonging credit; and we might hope to wit¬
ness the gradual abandonment of certain very costly, and
and in per-by no means effectual methods of courting business. We
sonal ex- al]U(le to the habit of expensive living as a proof of pro-
penditure. peiqy? and as a means of attracting connections. All such
expedients are flattering in the eyes of the inexperienced
beginner, but their inefficacy is well known to the veteran
merchant, who will not hesitate to declare, that were his
career to be renewed, he would make a point of avoiding
them, as well as almost all the steps so frequently em¬
braced for the sake of pushing business. In the mercantile,
as in other lines, the means of success are few and sim¬
ple ; not easy of attainment, indeed, and requiring, above
all, long-continued perseverance ; but less varied and com-
Qualities plicated than a youthful mind is apt to imagine. Analyze
of a man of the true qualities of a man of business, and you will find
business, them reduce themselves to fairness, vigilance, and steadi¬
ness : fairness, exemplified in declaring his terms at once,
and in never deviating from an engagement; vigilance in
superintending his assistants, his clerks, and his workmen ;
and steadiness in following up his proper line, year after
year, without turning to the right or left in pursuit of spe¬
culative advantages. These, plain as they are, form the
true virtues of mercantile life; the man who is known to
possess them will be at no loss for connections, and may
safely leave to others the task of seeking a reputation for
hospitality by their mode of living, of activity by the fre¬
quency of their solicitations, or of liberality by an unusual
prolongation of credit.
In reasoning with such confidence on the good effects
of so simple a measure as that of laying open the rate of for fluctuations in the state oi trade, and. in the value of
interest, we may be charged with going too far, and with nronertv as represented in money. During the twenty
indulging in sanguine Anticipations; but no one can pre¬
tend to foresee or to limit the extent of good arising from
restoring business to its free course. Again, if we are
thought to lay too much stress on the degree of aid to be
derived by a supply of capital to the mercantile body, our
answer is, that merchants are in general much shorter of
capital than the public imagine. Finally, it may be ob¬
jected, that money will not unfrequently be lost by the
capitalist from bis being pressed to join in incautious spe¬
culations. All enterprise is necessarily exposed to hazard ;
but the probability is, that the loss will be much less to
the capitalist than it at present is to the manufacturer,
the latter being wholly in the dark as to the circumstances
of his various debtors, while the former has evidently good
means of information as to the one or the two persons
whom he may choose to intrust with his money.
It may be useful to compare, in a commercial view, an
old and a recently-settled country, taking for the former
oldandare-a nation }n the condition of Holland or England, for the
latter the United States of America. In the former, ca¬
pital is abundant, and communications, whether by land
or water, comparatively easy; while in the lately-settled
country capital is necessarily scarce, and roads or canals
are in their infancy. Corn, rice, cotton, and other agri-
Compari-
son of an
cently-set
tied coun¬
try.
property as represented in money. During the twenty
years of war, from 1794 to 1814, there was a continued
rise of prices ; while a decline, almost equally great and
long continued, has taken place since the peace. The
public long flattered themselves that individual property
in this country had received during the war an increase
unexampled in our history ; but they now find that we are
about to fall back to the prices, the wages, and the incomes
of 1792. The visions inspired by high prices have disap¬
peared, and the computation of our augmented wealth
seems to have no solid foundation except in as far as we
have outstripped other countries in two important points,
increase of population and improvement in the useful arts.
This re-action in the money value of income and proper¬
ty has been productive of great embarrassment and dis¬
tress. The causes of it are and have long been a subject
of anxious consideration, but they have not as yet been
satisfactorily explained. To this we shall now appropriate
a few pages, premising that the subject is rather intricate,
and will call for the close attention of the reader.
The rise in the price of commodities in the late wars
with France was steadily progressive, and reached event¬
ually a great height. If we compute the degree of en¬
hancement in provisions, wages, rents, and almost every
thing except manufactures, we shall find it to have been
cultural products, are the proper objects of attention inCai
the new country, on account of the extent of unoccupied ^ ^
soil; while manufactures, requiring a numerous popula¬
tion, belong properly to the old. Labour is high priced
in the one, because the lower orders are comparatively
independent; that is, they are reluctant to work for a
master when not pressed by poverty, and when they can
support themselves by employing their time and labour
for their own account. Under such circumstances, how
much is it to be regretted that the United States of Ame¬
rica should have aimed prematurely at the extension of
such manufactures as woollens, cottons, or hardware!
They will find the disadvantage of scanty capital and
high wages too great to be balanced by any artificial sup¬
port from government, such as the high duties imposed
on foreign goods. The Americans have now been taught,
that their prosperity during the wars of the French Re¬
volution was owing mainly to their neutrality, and to the
high prices obtained for their exports, such as corn, tim¬
ber, tobacco, rice, in consequence of the general hostili¬
ties in Europe, and the abstraction of labour and capital
from productive employment. But with the return of ge¬
neral peace, the high prices in Europe came to a close,
and brought with them a decline in the value of the pro¬
ducts of the United States. The dissatisfaction thence
arising led the Americans to the attempt of counteract¬
ing the decline, by excluding foreign manufactures, and
raising the requisite supplies within the territory of the
Union; an attempt as illiberal and as unlikely to succeed
as that of the British government in 1807 to stop Ame¬
rican navigation. Already it has been found necessary
to make several modifications in the tariff of 1828; but if
it is not further and materially altered, the result cannot
fail to be productive of great eventual embarrassment to
the commerce of America. It has caused general discon¬
tent in the southern states of the Union, where manufac¬
tures have never been attempted, and where it is conse¬
quently the wish of the inhabitants to supply their wants
by an unrestrained intercourse with England, and the
countries which purchase their cotton and other products.
III. COMMERCIAL FLUCTUATIONS IN THE PRESENT AGE;
EVILS OF AN UNDUE EXPENDITURE BY GOVERNMENT.
The present age has been remarkable beyond all others
COMMERCE.
173
*.afc the close of the war sixty or seventy per cent, on the
prices of 1792 ; in other words, in the year 1812, L.1G0 or
L.170 were required to make the purchases which in 1792
might have been made for L.100.
This great advance is commonly ascribed to our bank
paper, in particular to its increased issue and inconverti¬
bility into cash in 1797. Admitting these to have been
the main causes of the rise, it may be well to explain the
mode in which they operated, and to endeavour to give
a definite form to what is generally brought forward as
va^ue allegation. This is a nice question, and will require
a reference to our expenditure in former years.
It is now nearly a century and a half since-this country
adopted the funding system, or the plan of carrying on
war with borrowed money. The result was both a great
increase of yearly expenditure, and a continuance of that
increase for a number of years. That a state of war en¬
hances the price of commodities is generally admitted;
the point is, to define in what manner it produces that
effect. It does so chiefly in three ways :
1. By increasing taxes.
2. By withdrawing capital from productive to unproduc¬
tive purposes; from agriculture, manufactures, and trade,
to the maintenance of fleets and armies. The manner of
doing this is by public loans, and the result is a rise ge¬
nerally very considerable in the rate of interest.
3. By withdrawing several hundred thousand men from
productive to unproductive employment; that is, from
agriculture, manufactures, and the work of mechanics, to
service in the army and navy, or to preparing arms, cloth¬
ing, and the various naval and military stores required by
government. The number of men thus withdrawn from
productive employment in the late wars was on an average
600,000, or fifteen per cent, of our able-bodied population.
These causes of enhancement have operated powerful¬
ly in every war since the time of William III.; but in the
military contests of the present age there were two addi¬
tional causes of great importance, viz.
4. The repeated insufficiency of our crops, and the ne¬
cessity of importing large quantities of corn.
5. The inconvertibility and eventual depreciation of our
bank paper.
The effect of an insufficient crop in raising prices is easily
understood ; that of our bank paper requires some expla¬
nation. What then was the consequence of our bank pa¬
per becoming inconvertible, or no longer payable in cash ?
It was not so much an increase in the amount of our cir¬
culating medium, as a certainty of a continued supply.
During the first years of the war, 1793, 1794, 1795, 1796,
and the early part of 1797, our financial difficulties had
been serious, and the expenditure of government had
been repeatedly checked by remonstrances from the bank,
founded on the state of foreign exchanges, and the drain,
or apprehended drain, of gold from its coffers. But after
the exemption of the bank from cash payments there was
an end of such apprehensions, and government possessed
an uninterrupted command of money, because the checks
on its supply were removed.
Again, the direct causes of rise of prices in war are in¬
crease of taxation, and the withdrawing of men and capi¬
tal from productive employment. Now to these causes,
which in former times were restricted both in their dura¬
tion and extent, the exemption from paying bank paper in
cash gave a scope almost unlimited. The uninterrupted
supply of money consequent on the exemption was felt in
every department; among agriculturists in the payment
of rents, among merchants in the discount of bills, and in
the community at large by a silent acquiescence in the
rise of wages, salaries, and the price of commodities; a
rise which the war rendered necessary, but which had
been strongly resisted until 1797. Hence a power in the Commerce,
public of paying taxes and making loans to an unexampled
amount, facilities so many and so great went far to per¬
suade the public that the successive additions to the sums
of money paid for rents, wages, and the purchase of com¬
modities, were proofs of increasing wealth. Few persons
could perceive that this increase was, in a great measure,
nominal; and still fewer could foresee the distressing ex¬
tent of a re-action on the return of peace. Had our mi¬
nistry been at all aware of that re-action, their scale of ex¬
penditure would have been very different.
Such were the causes of the rise of prices during the
war; the fall has been almost as great since the peace,
because circumstances have been altogether different.
Government have needed less both of men and money,
and have left both to be employed productively by the
public. Many persons imagine that, had there been no
such act as that of 1819, and had the exemption from
cash payments been continued, prices would have been
kept up, and the public would have been saved a great part
of the distress that has taken place since 1819. In this,
however, they go too far ; their argument holds good only
to a limited extent. During the war the exemption from
cash payments had a most powerful effect on the prices;
in peace its operation would have been temporary and
partial, because the circumstances of the country were
entirely altered. The causes of enhancement arising
from war no longer existed ; our men and capital were re¬
stored to productive employment; both served to aug¬
ment our yearly supply of commodities, and consequently
to furnish them at a cheaper rate. We were, besides, in
open intercourse with the Continent, and in that case there
is a continued tendency to a reduction of prices. Every
year our markets felt the lowering effects of imports from
countries less heavily burdened.
This was in a manner proved by experience. During
no less than five years of peace, from 1814 to 1819, our
bank notes were exempt from payment in cash, yet our
prices progressively declined. All this shows that our
prices would have decreased grea tly after 1819, by the mere
operation of peace, had there been no return to cash pay¬
ments. It suggests also a consideration of considerable im¬
portance at the present moment, namely, that we ought to
form a very moderate estimate of the effect that a return to
small notes would produce on prices. That measure would
tend to arrest the progress of distress, by preventing a fur¬
ther fall of prices; but it would be too much to expect
that it could cause them to be reinstated, or to rise in any
material degree.
It is a remarkable fact, that the difference in value be¬
tween gold and bank paper was very slight for a length
of time after the bank notes had ceased to be payable in
cash. During no less than twelve years after 1797, the
depreciation of our bank paper seldom reached five or six
per cent, and that only at intervals when the import of
foreign corn, as in 1801, or the payment of large subsidies,
as in 1805, brought down our exchanges with the Conti¬
nent. At last, in 1809, the fall of the exchanges, and the
depreciation of bank notes, became very serious, and con¬
tinued to be so during the remainder of the war. The
causes were, the expense of the war in Portugal and Spain,
which could not be defrayed by bills or bank notes, but re¬
quired a great deal of specie; and the stoppage, by our
orders in council, of the trade of America with the Con¬
tinent of Europe, and of the large remittances to England
arising from that trade.
These facts ought to be carefully considered, for they
enable us to make a distinction of great importance in re- ,
gard to bank paper when not convertible into cash. Irre¬
gular as such paper is, it may, when issued by so respect-
174
COMMERCE.
Commerce, able an establishment as the Bank of England, and received
and circulated freely for the purposes of sound money,
such as paying taxes, making purchases, and discharging
debts, maintain the value of coin for many years. It falls
only when large sums are required abroad, and the pay¬
ment of them must of course take place in gold and silver.
It was thus that our hank paper, after so long maintaining
its value, fell so suddenly and to so great an extent after
1809. From that time forward it proved a most unprofit¬
able mode of paying on the Continent; while in this coun¬
try it continued to circulate without any perceptible loss.
This difference in the local value ot our notes, their
depreciation abroad while their value was maintained at
home, was long unperceived by the public. The want of
this distinction accounts for a great part of the contradic¬
tion that prevailed on the bullion question. Of the various
witnesses examined before the committee in 1810, a num¬
ber insisted positively, and without qualification, that our
bank paper was depreciated, and an equal number that it
was not. d he writers of the report maintained the for¬
mer, and alleged that the depreciation arose fiom ovei-
issue ; but they were wholly unable to reconcile their
opinion with facts, for it was contradicted by the official
returns from the bank, which showed that there was no
necessary connection between the amount of the notes in
circulation and the degree of their depreciation. What
was the result of this singular discrepancy ? Each opinion
bad its advocates, and perhaps in equal number, until
1815, when, on the return of Bonaparte from Elba, an
apprehension by the public of immediate war caused our
exchanges with the Continent, and consequently our bank
notes, compared with specie, to fall ten per cent, in one
week. A few months afterwards, on the close of the war,
the exchanges and bank paper were promptly reinstated,
and all without altering the quantity of notes in circula¬
tion ; for it had neither been increased at the time their
value fell, nor contracted when it recovered.
These remarkable facts were observed by the late Mr
Horner, and led his candid mind to review its former im¬
pressions. He then felt that in the bullion report he had
carried too far the charge of over-issue by the bank, and
made an admission to that effect before his death to Mr
William Blake, the author of two very able pamphlets on
subjects connected with the currency.
It appears, therefore, that the depreciation of our bank
paper, compared to coin, though eventually great, was
local and temporary. It applied strongly to foreign parts,
but at home its effect was far from being general, and af¬
fected chiefly the articles which we were in the habit of im¬
porting from the Continent. Of these, corn was by far the
most important; it happened unfortunately that the crops
of 1809 and 1811 were both deficient, and that large im¬
ports were indispensable. Hence a rise in our corn mar¬
kets to a degree which would certainly not have taken
place had not our currency been greatly depreciated on
the Continent.
We are thus enabled to perceive the great defect in
the report of the bullion committee in 1810; a defect
which was productive of very general perplexity. It con¬
sisted in making no distinction between two things which
were very different; the rise of prices in consequence of
the war, and the rise from the depreciation of our bank
paper. The bullion^ report implied a belief that the two
were coincident in p’oint both of time and amount; where¬
as with regard to time, the rise of prices from the war
had begun in 1795, before our bank paper could be de¬
preciated ; and as to amount, it (the rise of prices) had
reached the height of thirty or forty per cent., compared
to the prices of 1792, at a time (1805, 1806) when the
inferiority of our paper to coin was not above five or six
per cent. In short, the rise of prices began soon after Coil—,
the war, and lasted twenty years without intermission, ^
whilst the depreciation of our bank notes was slight and
temporary until 1809, and prevailed to a serious extent
during little more than five or six years.
The losses incurred by speculation since the peace, He
however heavy, have only been occasional; the great™ ,,
feature of distress has been a continued decline of prices;1'5^
and this decline has been felt in a variety of ways; in
agricultural produce, in manufactures, in machinery, in
every thing almost except funded property. From year
to year the persons suffering under this decline dierished
the hope that it had reached its limit, but in vain ; prices
have continued to fall, and it is not, even at present, pos¬
sible to say where the downward progress will stop. Va¬
rious causes have been assigned for this continued fall,
such as the competition of foreigners, the resumption of
cash payments, and the diminished supply of the precious
metals from the mines. Each of these has, doubtless,
borne its part in the decline ; but the main cause is of a
more comprehensive character, and is to be sought in the
great difference of production in a state of war and a state
of peace ; that is, in the far greater amount of capital and
labour applied to productive purposes in peace than in
war.
How much is it to be regretted that the operation of
this great cause of reduced prices should not have long
since been understood ! Had it been so, parliament, in
enacting the return to cash payments, would have accom¬
panied it with conditions very different from those of the
law of 1819 ; and the committee of that year would pro¬
bably have passed and adjourned the proposition of a bill
till the ensuing session. The grounds for postponing such
a bill were ample ; the evidence was voluminous, the opi¬
nions of the witnesses were at variance with each other,
and the subject was in a great measure new to most of
the members of the committee.
In like manner, the following parliament, had it been
aware of the real causes of the decline ot prices since the
peace, would have carefully avoided the recal of the small
notes of country bankers. That recal was voted under an
impression that the small notes had been issued to excess,
and that the bankers alone were to blame for the losses
occasionally sustained by the public, from their occasional
insolvency. Both assertions were plausible, but neither \vas
made good by proof. No allowance was made for the chief
cause of insolvency among country bankers, namely, the law
which so long limited the number ot partners in an English
country bank ; nor was sufficient attention given to the se¬
curity conferred on Scotland, by merely allowing a bank to
extend the number of its partners. The enormous losses
incurred in England from money panics in such years as
1793, 1810,1816, and 1825, have almost all been the result
of that most unfortunate law. Had it not existed, banks
would have been constituted on a large scale, and panics
would no more have occurred in England than in Scot¬
land. After a season of overtrading, losses might, and
probably would have been incurred by the partners in a
bank, but not by the public; because, trom the extent of
their means, the banks would have been equal, and more
than equal, to their engagements.
The act for the recal of the small notes was passed by
parliament without a committee of inquiry, and without
a knowledge of several very essential circumstances, ihe
gold and silver required to replace the notes were expect¬
ed from the American mines; but the dilapidated state
of these mines was not known in England, still less was
it apprehended that the yearly supply of gold and silver
was unequal, and likely to continue unequal, to the con-
1
COMMERCE.
1m m
/5
erce.sumption. Nor did parliament at all anticipate the con-
j jinued depression of trade and agriculture, of which so
large a part has been ascribed to this act.
Seven years have now elapsed since the recal of small
notes in England, and since a similar measure was pro¬
posed in regard to Scotland. The latter will not, it is to
be hoped, be renewed, for surely enough has occurred
to show the expediency of parliament avoiding whatever
may produce a further fall of prices. The objections felt
to small notes, when our country banks were under a de¬
fective constitution, will hardly be entertained, after their
stability shall have been placed beyond doubt; and that
may be confidently expected, as soon as men of property
shall find their liability confined within a safe limit by
charters or otherwise. From establishments of such wealth
there will be no cause to apprehend either loss from in¬
solvency or issues to an undue extent.
There prevails with some persons an opinion, or rather
an impression, that the re-issue of small notes might make
money too abundant, and reduce our paper currency be¬
low the value of coin. In support of this impression, these
persons cite the year 1824, when there took place a gene¬
ral rise in prices, our paper issues were enlarged, and our
gold was sent abroad. But that remarkable state of things
arose from causes not likely to occur again. A very large
sum of gold had been brought into the Bank of England;
on this the bank lowered its rate of discount, and govern¬
ment reduced the interest on the public funds. Hence a
general abundance of money, a consequent rise in prices,
and that spirit of speculation which such a rise never fails
to engender. Our paper currency gave facilities to the
speculative mania, but did not originate it, for it took place
to a considerable degree in France, where there was com¬
paratively but little paper.
lesfe of The Bank of France is in the habit of making periodi-
reincal reports to its stockholders, and of stating in each of
them the amount of cash and bullion in hand. In this
country a different course has been followed ; and that the
secrecy by the Bank of England has been productive of
very heavy losses, will be apparent from the following
statement.
The amount of gold in the Bank of England was very
great during the years 1822, 1823, and part of 1824; but
in the summer of 1824 the exchanges with the Continent
began to turn against us, though the decline was so slight
as hardly to fix the attention of the public. The conse¬
quence was a continued drain of gold for export, so that
by the end of the year (1824) the amount in the coffers
of the bank was materially lessened. Of this neither the
private bankers nor the merchants had any idea; they,
like the public in general, had been long accustomed to
abundance of money, and still acted under the impression
that the bank treasure was large, and likely so to continue.
Hence the various speculations of 1825, the earliest of
which were to a certain extent justifiable, whilst those
which followed were in the highest degree absurd. The
most pernicious of them were, not those carried on be¬
tween persons in this country, as these took nothing out
of the kingdom, but the extravagant purchases of foreign
goods—of wool, cotton, timber, and other articles requir¬
ing to be paid in specie, and causing a drain of gold to the
extent of half a million or a million sterling a month.
How different would have been the result had the bank
directors thought fit to give notice to the principal houses
in Lombard Street, that a very considerable drain of gold
had taken place, and might, for aught they knew, continue.
Had that been done at the end of 1824, the private bankers
would have conveyed a caution to their customers, and
taken some steps suitable to the circumstances, such, per¬
haps, as that of raising the rate of discount by one per Commerce.
cent, ihis would, doubtless, have been in some degree a
check on trade, but the inconvenience to the public would
have been slight, for the bank treasure was still large, and
much more than equal to any demand in the regular course
of business. A notice given in the end of 1824 would have
been perfectly in time, for the extravagant part of. the
speculations did not begin till January 1825; and as the
projectors all took for granted a continued abundance of
money, not one in ten would, after such an intimation, have
been carried into effect. Unfortunately no warning was
given till the autumn of 1825, and then it came too late :
goods ordered from abroad in vast quantities were by that
time on the passage, or landing in our ports.
But this is not the only example of loss consequent onandinl818.
the public being kept in ignorance of the amount of cash
in the bank. The over-trading of the year 1818, and the
subsequent re-action, are to be traced to the same cause.
The circumstances were briefly these : the favourable ex¬
changes of 1816 and 1817 had brought large sums of gold
into the country ; money became plentiful, and a rise took
place, first in the funds, afterwards in the price of almost
all kinds of merchandise. This led to very imprudent
purchases in 1818, which were followed the year after by
a great and general fall of prices, and a long list of failures.
Now in this case also a warning from the bank directors,
given after they felt the re-action, would have been per¬
fectly in time to prevent the mania of purchasing; for
the gold in their coffers began to be lessened so early as
July 1817.
The inference is, that a degree of publicity as to the
amount of the treasure in the Bank of England would be
of great importance to our merchants. It would aid them
in fixing the extent to which they might purchase foreign
goods, and in all engagements for which it is requisite to
form an opinion of the probable course of the exchanges,
or the state of the money market, at a distance of one,
two, or three months.
The late parliamentary committee on the charter of the Opinion of
Bank of England gave rise to the expression of an opinion merchants
by several merchants on the law which limits the rate ofon d16
interest on money. All who were questioned on the sub-usurf *aws'
ject were in favour of its repeal. 8uch laws were at one
time general throughout Europe, though seldom enforced
on the Continent so strictly in this country. Unfortunate¬
ly the restriction on the rate of interest was viewed fa¬
vourably by the illustrious author of the Wealth of Na¬
tions; but since its pernicious tendency was clearly point¬
ed out forty years ago by Mr Bentham, most of our states¬
men and political economists have regarded it as highly
impolitic, though, from their unacquaintance with the
practice of trade, they are not aware of one tenth part of
the injury it causes. Serjeant Onslow made repeated at¬
tempts in parliament to obtain a repeal of these laws, but
in vain ; the landed interest were adverse, and ministers,
unwilling to alarm them, declined to support the repeal.
At last, in the session of 1830, Mr Foulet Thomson
brought in a bill for a modified repeal, leaving the restric¬
tion in force whenever a borrower gave security on land
or houses, but permitting a higher rate than five per cent,
when there was no such security. This bill was well re¬
ceived in the House of Commons; but dropped in conse¬
quence of the dissolution of parliament on the demise of
the late king. Let us hope that it will ere long be passed
into a law, and that cautious capitalists will be enabled to
come forward to the aid of persons in business, in a man¬
ner in which the result would, in our opinion, be more
generally beneficial than the public are aware of.
A further and still greater benefit would arise from mo-Reductios
difying certain taxes; from reducing those which press of taxes.
176 COM COM
Commoroy directly on productive industry, and replacing them by be repealed, or materially lessened, at the peace; yet six-CnL
II imposts on luxuries or on property. Insurance against teen years of peace were allowed to elapse ere it was at y
Commina- 0Ught certainly not to be discouraged by government; all reduced, and then in a very insufficient degree. A fur- ^
t*on’ yet, under the present law, parties insuring are made to pay ther reduction is strongly called for, and might piobably ^
more to the treasury for the stamp than to the company be granted, without loss to the revenue, so great would^^
for the risk. Equally little ought the insuring of ship- be the increase of consumption. ...
ping in London to be checked ; yet in very many cases Enough has now been stated to show the importance ofCt|
the amount of the duty induces the merchant to get his studying the principles of trade, leading as they do tosl
property covered in Holland or Hamburg. In both cases conclusions very different from those of the multitude,
there is good reason to think that the rate of duty might How few men would have believed, half a century ago,
be reduced by one half, with very little loss to the reve- that after the separation of the North American colonies,
nue, so great would be the increase of business. Our our trade with them would be greater than ever! How
aristocratic legislators, accustomed to the possession of few will believe at present that, of the French pub ic de¬
property, and lavish expenditure, have no idea of the im- scribed as so eager for war, nine persons in ten are anxi-
portance of even a small saving to the middle and lower ous for peace, and regard war, at least war with England,
orders that is, to three fourths of the payers of taxes, as the greatest misfortune that could befal their coun-
This is one cause of the continuance, year after year, of try! Equally unprepared are many persons to believe
imposts which ought long since to have been materially that, amidst all the distress of late years, amidst the ge-
reduced. Thus, in regard to sugar, the planters in our co- neral fall of prices, and the decline of wages, salaries, and
lonies are subjected in various respects to heavier charges incomes, the real wealth of this country, and the yearly
than those of Brazil or Cuba, and any benefit from mono- amount of our manufacturing and agricultural produce,
poly has been lost to them ever since we added so large- have been steadily on the increase. Such are a few of
ly to the number of colonies entitled to supply the Bri- the results of the study of the principles of commerce;
tish market. During many years the import has exceed- results sufficiently gratifying to repay that anxious inves-
ed our consumption, and prices have been ruinously low. tigation, that long-continued and pains-taking research,
Equity called loudly for a reduction of this duty. It had which are indispensable to place our conclusions on a sure
. been imposed as a war tax, with a promise that it should basis. (M* M\)
COMMERCY, an arrondissement of the department of
the Meuse, in France, extending over 802 square miles,
divided into seven cantons, and containing a population of
78,284 inhabitants, in 181 communes. The chief place, a
city of the same name, is situated on the left bank of the
Meuse, and is a neat, well-built place, containing 700
houses and 3386 inhabitants. Long. 5. 30. E. Lat. 48.
49. N.
COMMEWINA, a river of South America, in Guiana,
which rises in the mountains in the interior, and falls into
the Surinam, about ten miles from its mouth. It is from
two to four miles in breadth, but so shallow, and so full of
quicksands, small islands, and rocks, as to render its navi¬
gation very difficult. On its banks are some beautiful
plantations of coffee and sugar.
COMMIM, a town and district of Hindustan, in the
Balaghaut ceded territories. The town is the capital of
the district, and is seventy-three miles north from Cud-
dapah. The district is situated among the eastern Ghauts,
between the 15th and 16th degrees of north latitude. It
is of an irregular surface, and has many mountain streams,
though no rivers of any magnitude.
COMMINATION, an office in the liturgy of the church
of England, appointed to be read on Ash Wednesday, or
the first day of Lent. It is substituted in the room of
that godly discipline in the primitive church, by which, as
the introduction to the office expresses it, “ such persons
as stood convicted of notorious sins were put to penance,
and punished in this world, that their souls might be saved
in the day of the Lord; and that others, admonished by
their example, might be the more afraid to offend.” This
discipline, in after ages, degenerated in the church of
Rome into a formal confession of sins upon Ash Wednes¬
day, and the empty ceremony of sprinkling ashes upon the
heads of the people. But our reformers rejected the cere¬
mony as mere show and shadow, and substituted in its
room this office, which is a denunciation of God's anger
and judgment against sinners, that the people, being ap¬
prised of God’s wrath and indignation against sin, may not,
through want of discipline in the church, be encouraged
to pursue it, but rather be moved to supply that disci¬
pline to themselves, and so as to avoid being judged and
condemned at the tribunal of God.
COMMINATORY, an appellation given to whatever
threatens punishment or some penalty.
COMMINUTION denotes the breaking, or rather grind¬
ing, a body into very small particles.
COMMIRE, John, a modern Latin poet, born at Am-
boise in 1625, entered into the society of the Jesuits, and
taught polite literature and divinity. He died at Paris in
1702. We have a volume of his Latin poems, and a col¬
lection of his posthumous works by Sanadon, 1704. His
odes are imitations of Horace ; and his fables, which have
neither the elegant precision nor the moral tendency of
those of Phaedrus, are rather ingenious parallels and agree¬
able descriptions, than fables properly so called. His
paraphrases of the Psalms and the Prophets possess but
little merit.
COMMISSARY, in the ecclesiastical law, an officer of
the bishop, who exercises spiritual jurisdiction in places of
a diocese so far from the episcopal see that the chancellor
cannot call the people to the bishop’s principal consistory
court, without putting them to too much inconvenience.
Commissary Court, in Scotland, a court originally con¬
stituted by the bishops, and anciently called the bishop’s
court, curia Christidnitatis, or consistorial court. This
court was regulated by Queen Mary at the Reformation,
and continued in a certain modified form as a separate tri¬
bunal until lately, when it was in a great measure merged
in the court of session. See Scotland.
COMMISSION, in common law, the warrant or letters
patent, which all persons exercising jurisdiction have to
empower them to hear or determine any cause or suit; as
the commission of the judges, and the like.
Commission of Bankrupt. See Bankruptcy.
Commission of Lunacy issues out of the court of chan¬
cery, in order to try whether a person represented to be
a lunatic be so or not. See Lunacy.
Commission of Teinds, a court at Edinburgh, which
came instead of a committee of the Scottish parliament,
0 MS'
d I '?r
COM
for erecting new parishes, and valuing teinds for the sup¬
port of the clergy. It is vested in the lords of session.
See Scotland. _
Commission, in Commerce. See Factorage.
COMMISSIONER, a person authorized by commis¬
sion, letters patent, or other lawful warrant, to examine
any matters, or execute any lawful commission.
COMMISSURE, a term used by some authors for the
small interstices of bodies, or the little clefts between the
particles, especially when those particles are broadish and
flat, and lie contiguously to one another, like thin plates
and lamellae. The word literally signifies a joining or
connecting of one thing to another.
COMMITMENT, in criminal law, is the sending to
prison a person who has been guilty of any crime, or
charged with any offence. This takes place where the
offence is not bailable, or the party cannot find bail. It
must be done by proper warrant, containing the cause of
the commitment; and it continues till put an end to by
the course of law, imprisonment being intended only for
safe custody, and not for punishment.
COMMITTEE, one or more persons to whom the con¬
sideration or ordering of a matter is referred, either by
some court, or by the consent of parties whom it concerns,
and who are interested therein.
Committee of Parliament, a certain number of mem¬
bers appointed by the house for the examination of a bill,
or for inquiring into and making a report upon some par¬
ticular subject. Sometimes the whole house is resolved
into a committee; on which occasion each person has a
right to speak and reply as much and as often as he pleases ;
an expedient which is usually had recourse to where any
thing is to be thoroughly canvassed. When the house is
not in committee, each gives his opinion regularly, and
is only allowed to speak once, unless to explain himself.
The standing committees, appointed by every new parlia¬
ment, are those of privileges and elections, of religion, of
grievances, of courts of justice, of trade, &c.
COMMODATE, Commodatum, in the civil law, the
loan or free concession of any thing moveable or immove¬
able, for a certain time, on condition of restoring again the
same individual, thing, or subject, after a certain term.
The commodate is a kind of loan; there is this difference,
however, between a loan and a commodate, that the latter
is gratis, and does not transfer the property. The thing
must be returned in essence, and without impairment; so
that things which consume by use or time cannot be ob¬
jects of commodate, but only of loan, because they may
be returned in kind, though not in identity.
COMMODITY, in a general sense, denotes any sort
of ware or merchandise whatsoever, which a person deals
or trades in.
Staple Commodities, such wares and merchandises as
are commonly and readily sold in a market, or exported
abroad; being for the most part the proper produce or
manufacture of the country.
COMMODORE, a general officer in the British ma¬
rine, invested with the command of a detachment of ships
of war, destined on any particular enterprise, during
which time he bears the rank of brigadier-general in the
army, and his ship is distinguished from the rest of his
squadron by a broad red pendant tapering towards the
outer end, and sometimes forked. The word is corrupted
from the Spanish comendador.
Commodore is also a name given to some select ship
in a fleet of merchantmen, which leads the van in time of
war, and carries a light in its top, to conduct the rest and
keep them together. It is always the oldest captain in
the fleet who commands.
COMMODUS, L. Aurelius Antoninus, son of M.
VOL. VII.
C O M
Antoninus, succeeded his father in the Roman empire.
He was naturally cruel, and fond of indulging his licen¬
tious propensities. He wished to be called Hercules; and,
like that hero, he adorned his shoulders with a lion’s skin,'
and armfed his hand with a knotted club. He publicly
fought with the gladiators, and boasted of his dexterity in
killing the wild beasts in the amphitheatre. He required
divine honours from the senate, and they were granted
him. He was accustomed to put such an immense quan¬
tity of gold dust in his hair, that when he appeared bare¬
headed in the sunshine, his head glittered as if surround¬
ed with sunbeams. Martia, one of his concubines, whose
death he had prepared, poisoned him ; but as the poison
did not quickly operate, he was strangled by a wrestler.
He died in the thirty-first year of his age, and the thir¬
teenth of his reign. It has been observed, that he never
trusted himself to a barber, but always burnt his beard,
in imitation of the tyrant Dionysius. A. d. 192.
COMMON, Communis, something that belongs to all
alike, or is owned or allowed by all, and not confined to
this more than that. In this sense, common stands oppos¬
ed \.o proper, peculiar, &c. Thus, the earth is said to be
our common mother; and in the first or golden age, all
things were in common, as well as the sun and elements.
The name of animal is common to man and beast, that of
substance to body and spirit.
Common, Communia (quod ad omnes pertinet), in law,
signifies that soil, the use of which is common to a parti¬
cular town or lordship; or it is a profit that a man has
in the land of another person, usually in common with
others; or a right which a person has to put his cattle
to pasture into ground that is.not his own. And there
is not only common of pasture, but also common of pisca¬
ry, common of estovers, common of turbary, &c. In all
cases of common, the law respects the custom of the place;
for the rule is, consuetudo loci est observanda.
CoMMON-Place Book, is a register of what things occur
worthy to be noted, in the course of a man’s thinking or
study, and is so disposed, as that, among a number of sub¬
jects, any one may be easily found. The advantages of a
common-place book are manifold. It not only makes a
man read with accuracy and attention, but induces him
insensibly to think for himself, provided he considers it
not so much a register of sentiments which strike him in
the course of reading, as a register of his own thoughts
upon various subjects. Many valuable thoughts occur
even to men of no extraordinary genius; but these, with¬
out the assistance of a common-place book, are generally
lost both to himself and others. There are various me¬
thods of arranging common-place books ; that of Mr Locke
is as good as any that has hitherto been contrived.
The first page of the book in which it is intended to
take down common-places serves as a kind of index to the
whole, and contains references to every place or matter
therein ; and in the commodious contrivance of this index,
so as to admit of a sufficient variety of materials, without
any confusion, all the secret of the method consists.
In order to this, the first page, as already mentioned, or,
for more room, the first two pages that front each other,
are to be divided by parallel lines into twenty-five equal
parts, of wdiich every fifth line is to be distinguished by its
colour or other circumstance. These lines are to be cut
perpendicularly by others, drawm from top to bottom ; and
in the several spaces the several letters of the alphabet,
both capital and minuscle, are to be duly written.
The form of the lines and divisions, both horizontal and
perpendicular, with the manner of w riting the letters there¬
in, will be conceived from the following specimen ; in which,
what is to be done in the book for all the letters of the
alphabet is here shown in the first four, A, B, C, and ZL
z
177
Common
II
Common-
C O M
COM
178
Common¬
place Book
II
Common
Pleas.
Coj
The index to the common-place book being thus formed, which are equally applicable to both sexes ; thus 'parens,
matters are ready for the taking down any thing therein, a parent, is of the common gender.
In order to this, consider to what head the thing you Common, in Geometry, is applied to an angle, line, or
would enter may most naturally be referred, and under the like, which belongs equally to two figures,
which one would be led to look for such a thing: in this Common Divisor, a quantity or number which exactly
head or word regard is had to the initial letter, and the divides two or more other quantities or numbers, without
first vowel that "follows it, which are the characteristic leaving any remainder. .
letters on which all the use of the index depends. COMMONALTY, the lower of the two divisions of the
Suppose, for instance, we would enter down a passage that civil state. See Civil State.
refers to the head beauty. B is the initial letter, and e the The commonalty, like the nobility, are divided into se-
first vowel: then looking upon the index for the partition B, veral degrees ; and as the lords, though, different in rank,
and the line e, which is the place for all words whose first are all of them peers in respect of their nobility, so the
letter is b, and the first vowel e, as beauty, beneficence, commoners, though some are greatly superior to others, are
bread, breeding, blemishes, and finding no numbers already all in law commonalty, in respect of their want of nobility,
down to direct us to any page of the book where words 1. The first name of dignity next beneath a peer was
of this characteristic have been entered, we turn forward anciently that of vidames, vice-domini, or valvasors, who
to the first blank page we find, which, in a fresh book, as are mentioned by our ancient lawyers as viri magnce dig-
this is supposed to be, will be page second, and there nitatis; and Sir Edward Coke speaks highly of them,
write what we have occasion for on the head beauty; be- Yet they are now quite obsolete ; and our legal antiqua-
ginning the head in the margin, and indenting all the ries are not agreed upon even their original or ancient
other subservient lines, that the head may stand out and office. . .
show itself. This done, we enter the page in which it is 2. Now, therefore, the first personal dignity after that
written, viz. 2, in the index in the space Be; from which of nobility is a knight of the order of St George, or of the
time the class b e becomes wholly in possession of the Garter, first instituted by Edw. III. a. d. 1344.
second and third pages, which are consigned to letters of 3. Next, but after certain official dignities, as pnvy-
this characteristic. councillors, the chancellors of the exchequer and duchy
Had we found any page or number already entered in of Lancaster, the chief justice of the kings bench, the
the space B e, we must have turned to the page, and have master of the rolls, and the other English judges, follows
written our matter in whatever space was left therein. Thus, a knight banneret, who, indeed, by statutes 5 Richard II.
if after entering the passage on beauty, we should have stat. 2, c. 4, and 14 Richard II. c. 11, is ranxed imme-
occasion for benevolence, or the like, finding the number 2 diately after barons; and his precedence before the younger
already possessed of the space of this characteristic, we sons of viscounts was confirmed to him by order of King
would begin the passage on benevolence in the remainder James I. in the tenth year of that kings reign. But in
of the page ; but this not containing the whole, we would order to entitle him to this rank, he must have been creat-
carry it on to page third, which is also for b e, and add the ed by the king in person, in the field, under the royal
number 3 in the index. ' banners, in time of open war ; otherwise he ranks a*ter.
Common Pleas is one of the king’s courts, now held con- 4. Baronets, who are next in order. Ihis is a dignity
stantly in Westminster Hall; but in former times it was of inheritance, created by letters patent, and usually de-
moveable. scendible to the issue-male. See Baronet.
All civil causes, as well real as personal, are or were 5. Next follow knights of the Bath, which see.
formerly tried in this court, according to the strict law of 6. The last of these inferior nobility oxe knights bachelors,
the land. In personal and mixed actions it has a concur- the most ancient, though the lowest, order of knighthoo
rent jurisdiction with the king’s bench, but has no cogni- amongst us. See Bachelor.
zance of the pleas of the crown. The actions belonging 7. The above, with those enumerated under the artic 6
to the court of common pleas come thither by original, Nobility, Sir Edward Coke says, are all the names o
as arrests and outlawries; or by privilege, or attachment dignity in this kingdom; esquires and gentlemen being ony
for or against privileged persons ; or out of inferior courts, names of worship. But before these last the heralds ran
not of record, by pone, recordari, accedas ad curiam, writ all colonels, sergeants at law, and doctors in the three
of false judgment, and so forth. The chief judge of this learned professions.
court, called lord chief justice of the common pleas, is assist- 8. Esquires and gentlemen are confounded together by
ed by three other judges, called puisne judges. Sir Edward Coke, who observes, that every esquire is a
Common Prayer is the liturgy in the church of England, gentleman, and a gentleman is defined to be one qui arma
See Liturgy. Clergymen are bound to use the public gerit, “ who bears coat-armour, the grant of which a s
form of prayers prescribed by the book of common prayer ; gentility to a man’s family ; in like manner as civil nobi i-
and on their refusing to do so, or using any other public ty among the Romans was founded in the jus imaginum,
prayers, they are punishable by stat. 1 Eliz. c. 2. or having the figure or statue of one ancestor at least w o
Common, in Grammar, denotes the gender of nouns had borne some curule office. It is indeed a matter some-
COM
lonerwhat unsettled what constitutes the distinction, or who is
a real esquire; for it is not an estate, however large, that
I,uni'confers this rank upon its owner. Cambden, who was- him-
pg* seif a herald, reckons up four sorts of esquires: 1st, the
^ eldest sons of knights, and their eldest sons in perpetual
succession ; 2dly, the eldest sons of younger sons of peers,
and their eldest sons, in like perpetual succession, both of
which species of esquires Sir Henry Spelman entitles ar-
migerinalalitii; Sdly, esquires created by the king’s letters
patent, or rather investiture, and their eldest sons ; A:thly,
esquires by virtue of their office, as justices of the peace and
others who bear any office of trust under the crown. To
these may be added the esquires of the knights of the bath,
each of whom constitutes three at his installation, and all
foreign, nay, Irish peers ; for not only these, but the eldest
sons of peers of Great Britain, though frequently titular
lords, are only esquires in the law, and must be so named
in all legal proceedings.
9. As for gentlemen, says Sir Thomas Smith, “ they be
made good cheap in this kingdom ; for whosoever studieth
the laws of the realm, who studieth in the universities, who
professeth liberal sciences, and, to be short, wdio can live
idly and without manual labour, and will bear the part,
charge, and countenance of a gentleman, he shall be call¬
ed master, and shall be taken for a gentleman.”
10. A yeoman is he who has free land of forty shillings
in the year, and who is thereby qualified to serve on juries,
vote for knights of the shire, and do any other act where
the law requires one that is probus et legalis homo.
11. The rest of the commonalty are tradesmen, artifi¬
cers, and labourers, who, as well as all others, must, in
pursuance of the statute 1 Henry V. c. 5, be styled by the
name and addition of their estate, degree, or mystery, in
all actions and other legal proceedings.
COMMONER, or Gentleman-Commoner, in the uni¬
versities, a student entered in a certain rank.
COMMONS, or House of Commons, a denomination
given to the lower house of parliament. See England
and Parliament.
COMMONTY, in Scotch Law, sometimes signifies lands
belonging to two or more common proprietors ; sometimes
a heath or muir, though it should belong in property to
one, if there has been a promiscuous possession of it by
means of pasturage ; and the act 1695 mentions common-
ties belonging in property to the king and to royal boroughs.
COMMOTE, an ancient term in Wales, denoting half
a cantred, or hundred, containing fifty villages. See
Hundred. Wales was anciently divided into three pro¬
vinces, each of them subdivided into cantreds, and every
cantred into two commotes or hundreds. Silvester Gi-
rald, however, tells us in his Itinerary, that a commote is
but a quarter of a hundred.
COMMUNIS, in Botany, the name of a class in Lin¬
naeus’s Methodus Calycina, consisting of two plants which,
like teazel and dandelion, have a calyx or flower-cup com¬
mon to many flowers or florets. These are the aggregate
or compound flowers of other systems.
COMMUNIBUS Locis, a Latin term, in frequent use
among philosophical and other writers, implying some
medium or mean relation between several places. Dr
Keil supposes the ocean to be one quarter of a mile deep,
communibus locis, that is, at a medium, or taking one place
with another.
Communibus Annis has the same import with regard to
years that communibus locis has with regard to places.
COMMUNICATING, in Theology, the act of receiving
the sacrament of the eucharist. Those of the reformed
and of the Greek churches communicate under both kinds;
those of the Roman Catholic church under only one. The
oriental communicants receive the species of wine by a
C O M 179
spoon, and anciently they sucked it through a pipe, as hasCommuni-
been observed by Rheanus on Tertullian. cation
COMMUNICAITON, in a general sense, the act of II
imparting something to another. Comrnu-
Communication is also used for the connection of one t
thing with another, or the passage from one place to ano¬
ther : thus a gallery is a communication between two
apartments.
Communication of motion, the act by which a body at
rest is put into motion by a moving body; or it is the ac¬
celeration of motion in a body already moving.
COMMUNION, in matters of religion, the being unit¬
ed in doctrine and discipline; in which sense of the word
different churches are said to hold communion with each
other. In the primitive Christian church, every bishop
was obliged, after his ordination, to send circular letters
to foreign churches, to signify that he was in communion
with them. The three grand communions into which the
Christian church is at present divided, is that of the
church of Rome, the Greek church, and the Protestant
church ; but originally all Christians were in communion
with one another, having one common faith and discipline.
Communion is also used for the act of communicating
at the sacrament of the eucharist, or the Lord’s supper.
The fourth council of Lateran decrees that every be¬
liever shall at least receive the communion at Easter,
which seems to import a tacit desire that they should do
it oftener; as, in fact, they did in the primitive days.
Gratian and the master of the sentences prescribe it as a
rule for the laity to communicate three times a year, at
Easter, at Whitsuntide, and at Christmas. But in the
thirteenth century the practice was adopted never to ap¬
proach the eucharist except at Easter; and the council
thought fit to enjoin it by a law, lest coldness and remiss¬
ness should go farther still. The council of Trent renew¬
ed the same injunction, and recommended frequent com¬
munion, without enforcing it by an express decree.
In the ninth century the communion was still received
by the laity in both kinds; or rather the species of bread
was dipped in the wine, as is admitted by the Roman
Catholics themselves. See Acta SS. Benedict. Scec. III.
M. de Marca observes, that the people received it at first in
their hands (Hist, de Bearn), and believes the communion
under one kind alone to have had its rise in the West under
Pope Urban II. in 1096, at the time of the conquest of the
Holy Land. But it was more solemnly enjoined by the
council of Constance in 1414. The twenty-eighth canon
of the council of Clermont distinctly enjoins the communion
to be received under both kinds; adding, however, two
exceptions; the one of necessity, the other of caution,
nisi per necessitatem et cautelam ; the first in favour of the
sick, and the second in favour of the abstemious, or those
who had an aversion to wine.
It was formerly a kind of canonical punishment for
clerks guilty of any crime, to be reduced to lay communion,
that is, only to receive it as the laity did, under one kind.
There was another punishment of the same nature, though
under a different name, called foreign communion, to which
the canons frequently condemned bishops and other clerks.
This punishment was not any excommunication or depo¬
sition, but a kind of suspension from the function ot the
order, and a degradation from the rank they held in the
church. It had its name because the communion was only
granted to the criminal on the footing of a foreign clerk;
that is, being reduced to the lowest of his order, he took
place after all those of his own rank, as all clerks and
others did in the churches to which they did not belong.
The second council of Agda orders every clerk who ab¬
sents himself from the church to be reduced to foreign
communion.
180 COM COM
Commu- Communion Service, in the liturgy of the church of Compact, in a legal sense, signifies an agreement or Coi^
nity England, the office for the administration of the holy sa- contract stipulated between several parties. 1
'I crament, extracted from several ancient liturgies, as those COMPANION, one with whom a man frequently con-
Coni pact. oj. gt Basil, St Ambrose, &c. By the last rubric, part of verses. v
this service is appointed to be read every Sunday and COMPANY, a collective term, understood of several
holiday, after the morning prayer, even though there persons assembled together in the same place, or with
should be no communicants. the same design. The word is formed of the French com-
COMMUNITY denotes a society of men living in the pagnie, and that of companio or companies, which, Chifflet
same place, under the same laws, the same regulations, observes, are found in the Salic law, tit. 66, and are pro-
and the same customs. per military words, being understood of soldiers, who, ac-
COMNENA, Anna, daughter of Alexius Comnenus, cording to the modern phrase, are comrades or messmates,
emperor of the East, celebrated for her great learning that is, lodge together, eat together, &c. The real etymon
and virtue, and for her history of the life and actions of of the word therefore is,, that it is compounded of the
her father, which is highly esteemed. She flourished Latin cum, with, and panis, bread. It may be added, that
about the year 1117. Her history, which is in fifteen in some Greek authors under the Western Empire the
books, was first published very imperfectly by Heschelius word xou/^av/a occurs in the sense of society,
in 1610, and afterwards printed in the collection of the Company, in a familiar or fashionable sense, is used for
Byzantine historians, with a diffuse and incorrect Latin an assemblage of persons met for the purpose of conver-
version by the Jesuit Possimus, but with excellent notes sation, pastime, or festivity.
by the learned Du Fresne. The love of company and of social pleasures is natural,
COMO, a lake in the Austrian kingdom of Venetian and attended with some of the sweetest gratifications of
Lombardy. It is formed by the water of the river, and human life; but, like every other affection, when it proceeds
of more than one hundred and ninety small brooks and beyond the bounds of moderation, it ceases to produce its
rivulets that empty themselves into it. Its whole length natural effect, and terminates in disgustful satiety. The
is about thirty-five miles, but its breadth scarcely in any foundation stone and the pillar on which we build the
part exceeds three miles. Its elevation above the sea is fabric of our felicity must be laid in our own hearts,
about 700 feet. The southern portion of the lake is di- Amusement, mirth, agreeable variety, and even improve-
vided into two branches, the shorter of which, running ment, may sometimes be sought in the gaiety of mixed
south-west, extends to the town of Como, and the longer company, and in the usual diversions of the world ; but if
south-east to Vapres, near Bergamo. The surrounding we found our general happiness on these, we shall do little
country is picturesque and beautiful. The banks exhibit more than raise castles in the air, or build houses on the
vineyards, olives, and mulberry trees in great abundance, sand.
and the lake abounds in fish. ' To derive the proper pleasure and improvement from
Como, a delegation of the government of Milan, in the company, it ought to be select, and to consist of persons
Austrian kingdom of Venetian Lombardy, bounded on the of character, respectable both for their morals and their
north by Switzerland and Sandrio, on the east by Brescia, understandings. Mixed and indiscriminate society tends
on the south by Milan, and on the west by the kingdom only to dissipate our ideas, and to induce a laxity of princi-
of Sardinia. Being towards the foot of the Alps, the pies and practice. The pleasure it affords is of a coarse,
northern part is mountainous, and the southern undulat- mixed, noisy, and rude kind. Indeed it commonly ends
ing. Between the spurs of the mountains are some beau- in weariness and disgust, as they even are ready to con-
tiful and fertile valleys. It extends over 1260 square fess who nevertheless constantly pursue it, as if their chief
miles, or 806,400 English acres, and comprehends two good consisted in living in a crowd,
cities, sixteen market-towns, and 510 villages, with 43,117 Company, in a commercial sense, is a society of mer-
houses, and, in 1817, 315,634 inhabitants. The chief pro- chants, mechanics, or other traders joined together in one
Auctions are, corn, wine, fruit, and fish. The manufac- common interest.
tures are silk and linen articles ; but many of the districts The mechanics of all corporations, or towns incorporat-
subsist by making optical glasses, and by preparing ma- ed, are thus erected into companies, with privileges and
thematical, surgical, and physical instruments. The pu- large immunities bestowed on them by royal charter. The
rity of the atmosphere attracts many of the richer fami- original object of these associations was the protection
lies of Italy to the district, where they have built nume- and advancement of trade ; and they might have answered
rous rural villas. some useful purposes in the rude age in which they were
Como, a city, the capital of the delegation of the same established. But they have long ceased to be useful; and,
name, in Italjr, on the southern extremity of the cele- so far from promoting, they tend to obstruct the progress
brated lake of the same name. It is the seat of a bishop, of industry. The privilege which they possessed of enact-
and of the courts of law and revenue, and contains a ca- ing bye-laws for the regulation of their own members,
thedral and nine other churches, with 604 houses and enabled them to pass rules for the purpose of maintaining
7500 inhabitants. It is in long. 9. 0. 21. E. and lat. 45. a strict monopoly of their trade. No one was at liberty
48. 22. N. within the city over which their authority extended, to
COMORIN, Cape, the southern extremity of the con- exercise his calling without becoming a freeman of the
tinent of India, surrounded by rocks, and therefore unsafe corporation, and paying the necessary dues, which were
for ships to approach very near it. It is situated in the often so high as to prevent a workman from ever prosecut-
territories of the rajah of Travancore. Long. 77. 35. E. ing his business as a master. The restraints imposed by
Lat. 7. 37. N. these corporations have been greatly modified in practice,
COMORO, an island in the Eastern Seas, thirty-two by the extension of towns beyond the original limit of
miles in length by sixteen in average breadth. It is situ- their privileges; and in the suburbs, which are frequently
ated between Sumbhawa and Floris, and the 8th and 9th larger than the town itself, there are no restraints on the
degrees of north latitude. freedom of industry. Artificers may there commence
COMPACT, in Philosophy, is said of bodies which are business without being free of any corporation; and thus
of a close, dense, and heavy texture, with few pores, and the principle of competition ismaintained in practice in spite
those very small. of the exclusive spirit of these corporations or companies.
COMPANY. 181
Company, however, seems more particularly appropriated
t0 those grand associations set on foot for carrying on
commerce with the remote parts of the world, and vested
by charter with peculiar privileges.
When companies do not trade upon a joint stock, but
are obliged to admit any person properly qualified, upon
paying a certain fine, and agreeing to submit to the regu¬
lations of the company, each member trading uppn his own
stock and at his own risk, they are called Regulated Com¬
panies. When they trade upon a joint stock, each mem¬
ber sharing in the common profit or loss in proportion to
his share in this stock, they are called Joint Stock Com¬
panies. Such companies, whether regulated or joint
stock, sometimes have and sometimes have not exclusive
privileges.
I. Regulated Companies resemble in every respect
the corporations of trades, so common in the cities and
towns of all the different countries of Europe, and are a
sort of enlarged monopolies of the same kind. As no in¬
habitant of a town can exercise an incorporated trade
without first obtaining his freedom in the corporation ; so
in most cases no subject of the state can lawfully carry on
any branch of foreign trade for which a regulated compa¬
ny is established, without first becoming a member of that
company. The monopoly is more or less strict, according
as the terms of admission are more or less difficult, and ac¬
cording as the directors of the company have more or less
authority, or have it more or less in their power to manage
in such a manner as to confine the greater part of the trade
to themselves and their particular friends. In the most
ancient regulated companies the privileges of apprentice¬
ship were the same as in other corporations ; and entitled
the person who had served his time to a member of the
company to become himself a member, either without pay¬
ing any fine, or upon paying a much smaller one than what
was exacted from other people. The usual corporation
spirit, wherever the law does not restrain it, prevails in all
regulated companies. When they have been allowed to
act according to their natural genius, they have always, in
order to confine the competition to as small a number of
persons as possible, endeavoured to subject the trade to
many burdensome regulations, When the law has restrain¬
ed them from doing this, they have become altogether use¬
less and insignificant.
The regulated companies which were formerly estab¬
lished in Britain now exist only in name; and they do not
in practice maintain a monopoly in any branch of trade.
They are principally, the Hamburg Company, the Rus¬
sia Company, the Eastland Company, the Turkey Com¬
pany, the African Company, and the Hudson’s Bay Com¬
pany.
I 1. The Hamburg Company was first incorporated by
Edward I. in 1296, and established again by charter in
1406, under the reign of King Henry IV. who grant¬
ed all the merchants of his states, particularly those of
Calais, then in his hands, a power of associating them-
; selves into a body politic, with directors and governors,
both in England and abroad, to hold assemblies, both for
the direction of business and the deciding of controversies
among merchants, make laws, punish delinquents, and im¬
pose moderate duties and taxes on merchandises and mer¬
chants to be employed in the service of the corporation.
These few articles of the charter of Henry IV. were after¬
wards much augmented by many of his successors ; among
others by Henry VII., who first gave them the title of
Merchant-adventurers to Calais, Holland, &c., gave them a
power of proclaiming and continuing free fairs at Calais,
and ordered that, to be reputed a member of the society,
each person pay twenty marks sterling; and that the se¬
veral members should attend the general meetings or
courts appointed by the directors, whether at London, Ca-Company,
lais, or elsewdiere.
A petition being made to Queen Elizabeth, in 1564, for
an explanation of certain articles in the charter of Henry
VII., and a confirmation of the rest granted by other kings,
that princess, by a charter of the same year, declares that,
to end all disputes, they shall be incorporated anew, under
the title of the Company of Merchant-adventurers of Eng¬
land; that all who were members of the former company
should, if they desired it, be admitted members of this;
that they should have a common seal; that they should
admit into their society what other persons, and on what
terms, they pleased, and expel them again on misbeha¬
viour; that the city of Hamburg and neighbouring cities
should be reputed within their grant, together with those
of the Low Countries, &c. in that of the former company;
that no member should marry out of the kingdom, nor
purchase lands, &c. in any city beyond sea; and that
those who do so shall be, ipso facto, excluded for ever.
Twenty-two years after this first charter, Queen Eliza¬
beth granted them a second, confirming the former, and
further granting them a privilege of exclusion, with a
power of erecting in each city within their grant a stand¬
ing council.
The revolutions which happened in the Low Countries
towards the end of the sixteenth century, and which laid
the foundation of the republic of Holland, having hinder¬
ed the company from continuing their commerce with their
ancient freedom, it was obliged to turn it almost wholly
to the side of Hamburg, and the cities on the German
ocean ; from which change some people took occasion to
change its name to that of the Hamburg Company,
though the ancient title of Merchant-adventurers is still
retained in all their writings.
About the middle of the last century the fine for admis¬
sion was fifty, and at one time one hundred pounds, and
the conduct of the company was said to be extremely op¬
pressive. In 1643, in 1645, and in 1661, the clothiers and
free traders of the west of England complained of them to
parliament, as of monopolists who confined the trade and
oppressed the manufactures of the country. Though these
complaints produced no act of parliament, they had pro¬
bably intimidated the company so far as to oblige them to
reform their conduct, and the trade was finally laid open
by William III.
2. The Russia Cowi/rawy was first projected towards the
end of the reign of King Edward VI., constituted in the
first and second years of Philip and Mary ; and its charter
was confirmed by act of parliament under Queen Elizabeth
in 1566. It had its rise from certain adventurers who
were sent in three vessels for the discovery of new coun¬
tries, and to find out a north-east passage to China. These,
falling into the White Sea, and making up to the port of
Archangel, were exceedingly well received by the Musco¬
vites ; and at their return solicited letters patent, to se¬
cure to themselves the commerce of Russia, for which they
had formed an association.
By their charter the association was declared a body po¬
litic, under the name of the Company of Merchant-adven¬
turers of England, for the discovery of lands, territories,
islands, &;c. unknown or unfrequented. Their privileges
were, to have a governor, four consuls, and twenty-four
assistants, for their commerce; for their policy, to make
laws, inflict penalties, send out ships to make discoveries,
take possession of them in the king’s name, set up the
banner royal of England; and, lastly, the exclusive privi¬
lege of trading to Archangel, and other ports of Muscovy
not yet frequented by the English.
Tliis charter was confirmed by parliament in the eighth
year of Queen Elizabeth, wherein it was enacted, that in
182
COMPANY.
Company, regard the former name was too long, they should now be
called Company of English Merchants for discovering new
Trades ; under which name they should be capable of ac¬
quiring and holding all kinds of lands, manors, rents, &c.
not exceeding one hundred marks per annum, and not
held of her majesty ; that no part of the continent, island,
harbour, &c. not known or frequented before the first en¬
terprise of the merchants of their company, situated to
the north, or north-west, or north-east of London, nor any
part of the continent, islands, &c. under the obedience of
the emperor of Russia, or in the countries of Armenia,
Media, Hyrcania, Persia, or the Caspian Sea, should be
visited by any subjects of England to exercise any com¬
merce, without the consent of the said company, on pain
of confiscation. The said company shall use no ships in
her new commerce but those of the nation, nor transport
any cloths, serges, or other woollen stuffs, till they have
been dyed and pressed. That in case the company dis¬
continue of itself to unload commodities in the road of the
abbey of S. Nicholas, in Russia, or some other port on the
north coasts of Russia, for the space of three years, the
other subjects of England shall be allowed to traffic to
Narva, while the said company discontinues its commerce
into Russia, only using English vessels.
This company subsisted with reputation almost a whole
century, till the time of the civil wars. It is said the czar
then reigning, hearing of the murder of King Charles I.,
ordered all the English in his states to be expelled; which
the Dutch taking advantage of, settled in their room. Af¬
ter the Restoration, the remains of the company re-esta¬
blished part of their commerce at Archangel, but never
with the same success as before, the Russians being now
well accustomed to the Dutch merchants and merchandise.
This company subsists still, under the direction of a
governor, four consuls, and assistants. By the 10th and
11th of William III. c. 6, the fine for admission was re¬
duced to L.5. As the company, however, possesses no
powers, and confers no advantages, it may be said to exist
merely in name.
3. The Eastland Company was incorporated by Queen
Elizabeth. Its charter is dated in the year 1579. By the
first article the company is erected into a body politic,
under the title of the Company of Merchants of the East;
to consist of Englishmen, all real merchants, who have
exercised the business thereof, and trafficked through the
Sound before the year 1568, into Norway, Sweden, Poland,
Livonia, Prussia, Pomerania, &c.; as also Revel, Kbnigs-
berg, Dantzic, Copenhagen, &c.; excepting Narva, Mus-
cov3r, and its dependencies. They were invested with the
usual prerogatives of such companies, as a seal, governor,
courts, laws, &c.
The premium for admission into this company was L.6
13s. 6d.; and no merchant residing in London could be
admitted a member, unless he were free of the city. The
charter of this company was confirmed by Charles II. in
1629. But it was complained of as a monopoly, and first
curtailed by legal authority in 1672; and since the declara¬
tion of rights in 1689 it exists only in name, but still con¬
tinues to elect its annual officers, namely, a governor, a
deputy, and twenty-four assistants.
4. The Turkey or Levant Company had its rise under
Queen Elizabeth in 1581. James I. confirmed its charter
in 1605, adding new privileges. During the civil wars
there happened some innovations in the government of
the company; many persons having been admitted mem¬
bers, not qualified by the charters of Queen Elizabeth and
King James, or that did not conform to the regulations
prescribed. Charles II. upon his restoration, endeavoured
to set it upon its ancient basis; to which end he gave
them a charter, containing not only a confirmation of their
old one, but also several new articles of reformation. By C((
this the company is erected into a body politic, capable J
of making laws, &c., under the title of the Company of
Merchants of England trading to the seas of the Levant
The number of members is not limited, but is ordinarily
about three hundred. The principal qualification required
is, that the candidate be a freeman of London, and a whole¬
sale merchant, either by family or by serving an appren¬
ticeship of seven years. Those under twenty-five years
of age pay L.25 sterling at their admission ; those above,
twice as much. The fine was reduced by act of parlia¬
ment in 1753 to L.20, and the privilege of admission ex¬
tended to every British subject.
The company has a court or board at London, which is
composed of a governor, deputy-governor, and fifteen di¬
rectors or assistants; but it exists only in name. It has
no power to restrain any private adventurer from trading
to Turkey; and hence, in point of fact, the trade is free.
5. The Company of Merchants trading to Africa, esta¬
blished in 1750. This company succeeded that called the
Royal African Company, which traded upon a joint stock
with an exclusive privilege. Though England began to trade
to Africa as early as the year 1536, and several voyages
were made to Guinea in 1538 and some following years,
for the importation of gold and elephants’ teeth, nothing
like a company was formed till the year 1588, when Queen
Elizabeth granted a patent of exclusive privilege to certain
persons for ten years. In 1618, King James I. establish¬
ed a company by charter, which was soon dissolved. An¬
other company was erected by charter of Charles I. in
1631, which met with little success; but the demand for
negroes in the English American plantations increasing,
a third company was established by a charter granted in
1662, in favour of the Duke of York, securing to him the
commerce of all the country, coasts, islands, &c. belong¬
ing to the crown of England, or not possessed by any
other Christian prince, from Cape Blanco, in 20 degrees
north latitude, to the Cape of Good Hope, in 34 degrees
34 minutes south latitude. The charter was soon after re¬
turned into the king’s hands by the duke, and revoked, by
consent of the parties associated with him in the enter¬
prise ; in consequence of which, the fourth and last ex¬
clusive company was established and incorporated by let¬
ters patent in 1672, under the title of the Royal African
Company. A capital was soon raised of L.l 11,000; and
this new company improved their trade and increased
their forts; but after the revolution in 1689 this trade
was laid open. In 1698, all private traders to Africa were
obliged by statute 9 and 10 William, to pay ten per cent.,
in order to assist the company in maintaining their forts
and factories. But notwithstanding this heavy tax, the
company were still unable to maintain the competition;
their stock and credit gradually declined. In 1712, their
debts had become so great that a particular act of parlia¬
ment was thought necessary, both for their security and
for that of their creditors. It was enacted, that the reso¬
lution of two thirds of these creditors in number and va¬
lue should bind the rest, both with regard to the time
which should be allowed to the company for the payment
of their debts, and with regard to any other agreement
which it might be thought proper to make with them con¬
cerning those debts. In 1730 their affairs were in so
great disorder that they were altogether incapable ot
maintaining their forts and garrisons, the sole purpose
and pretext of their institution. From that year till their
final dissolution, the parliament judged it necessary to
allow the annual sum of L.10,000 for that purpose. In
1732, after having been for many years losers by the trade
of carrying negroes to the West Indies, they at last re¬
solved to give it up altogether; to sell to the private tia-
COMPANY.
is;
ny. ders to America the negroes which they purchased upon
Jj tjie coast; and to employ their servants in a trade to the
inland parts of Africa for gold dust, elephants’ teeth, dye¬
ing drugs, &c. But their success in this more confined
trade was not greater than in their former extensive one.
Their affairs continued to go gradually to decline, till at
last, being in every respect a bankrupt company, they were
dissolved by act of parliament, and their forts and garri¬
sons vested in the present Regulated Company of Mer¬
chants trading to Africa.
Contrary to the former practice with regard to regu¬
lated companies, who were reckoned unfit for such sort
of service, this company was subjected to the obligation
of maintaining forts and garrisons. It was expressly charg¬
ed at first with the maintenance of all the British forts
and garrisons that lie between Cape Blanc and the Cape
of Good Hope, and afterwards with that of those only
which lie between Cape Rouge and the Cape of Good
Hope. The act which establishes this company (the 23d
of George II. c. 31) seems to have had two distinct objects
in view: first, to restrain effectually the oppressive and
monopolizing spirit which is natural to the directors of a
regulated company; and, secondly, to force them as much
as possible to give an attention, which is not natural to
them, towards the maintenance of forts and garrisons.
With a view to the first of these objects, the fine for ad¬
mission into the company was limited to 40s. The com¬
pany is prohibited from trading in their corporate capa¬
city, or upon a joint stock; from borrowing money upon
common seal, or from laying any restraints upon the trade,
which may be carried on freely from all places, and by all
persons being British subjects and paying the fine.
For the second purpose mentioned, the maintenance of
the forts and garrisons, an annual sum w as allotted to them
by parliament. In 1730 a sum of L.10,000 was granted
for this purpose; and in 1744, owing to the war, this sum
was increased to L.20,000 ; and every year a sum was an¬
nually appropriated to their use. By the 4th Geo. III.
c. 20, Fort Senegal and all its dependencies were vested in
the company; but by 5th Geo. III. c. 44, not only Sene¬
gal and all its dependencies, but the whole coast from the
Fort of Sallee, in South Barbary, to Cape Rouge, was ex¬
empted from the jurisdiction of the company, and vested
in the crown.
II. Joint-Stock Companies, established either by royal
charter or by act of parliament, differ in several respects,
not only from regulated companies, but from private co¬
partneries. 1. In a private copartnery, no partner, without
the consent of the company, can transfer his share to an¬
other person, or introduce a new member into the com¬
pany. Each member, however, may, upon proper warn¬
ing, withdraw from the copartnery, and demand payment
from them of his share of the common stock. In a joint-
stock company, on the contrary, no member can demand
payment of his share from the company; but each mem¬
ber can, without their consent, transfer his share to ano¬
ther person, and thereby introduce a new member. The
value of a share in a joint stock is always the price which
it will bring in the market; and this may be either great¬
er or less, in any proportion, than the sum which its owner
stands credited for in the stock of the company. 2. In a
private copartnery, each partner is bound for the debts
contracted by the company, to the whole extent of his
fortune. In a joint-stock company, on the contrary, each
partner is bound only to the extent of his share.
I he trade of a joint-stock company is always managed
by a court of directors. This court indeed is frequently
subject, in many rdspects, to the control of a general court
of proprietors. But the greater part of these proprietors
seldom pretend to understand any thing of the business
of the company, and, when the spirit of faction happens Company,
not to prevail among them, give themselves no trouble v—
about it, but receive contentedly such half-yearly or year¬
ly dividend as the directors think proper to make to them.
I his total exemption from trouble and from risk, beyond
a limited sum, encourages many people to become adven-
tuiers in joint-stock companies, who would upon no ac¬
count hazard their fortunes in any private copartnery.
Such companies, therefore, commonly draw to themselves
much gieatei stocks than any private copartnery can boast
of. I he trading stock of the South Sea Company at one
time amounted to upwards of thirty-three millions eight
hundred thousand pounds. The directors of such com¬
panies, however, being the managers rather of other peo¬
ple s money than of their own, it cannot well be expected
that they should watch over it with the same anxious vi¬
gilance with which the partners in a private copartnery
frequently watch over their own. Like the stewards of a
rich man, they are apt to consider attention to small mat¬
ters as not for their master’s honour, and very easily give
themselves a dispensation from having it. Negligence
and profusion, therefore, must always prevail more or less
in the management of the affairs of such a company. It
is upon this account that joint-stock companies for foreign
trade have seldom been able to maintain the competition
against private adventurers. They have, accordingly, very
seldom succeeded without an exclusive privilege; and
frequently have not succeeded with one. Without an
exclusive privilege, they have commonly mismanaged the
trade ; with an exclusive privilege, they have both mis¬
managed and confined it.
The principal joint-stock companies presently subsist¬
ing in Great Britain are, the South Sea Company and the
East India Company; to which may be added, though
of very inferior magnitude, the Hudsons Bay Company.
1. I he South Sea Company. During the long war with
France in the reign of Queen Anne, the payment of the
sailors of the royal navy being neglected, they received
tickets instead of money, and were frequently obliged, by
their necessities, to sell these tickets to avaricious men at a
discount of forty, and sometimes fifty per cent. By this
and other means, the debts of the nation unprovided for by
parliament, and which amounted to L.9,471,321, fell into
the hands of these usurers. On which Mr Harley, at that
time chancellor of the exchequer, and afterwards Earl of
Oxford, proposed a scheme to allow the proprietors of these
debts and deficiencies six per cent, per annum, and to in¬
corporate them for the purpose of carrying on a trade to
the South Sea; and they were accordingly incorporated
under the title of “ the Governor and Company of Mer¬
chants of Great Britain trading to the South Seas, and
other parts of America, and for encouraging the Fishery,”
&c. Though this company seemed formed for the sake
of commerce, the ministry never thought seriously during
the course of the war about making any settlement on the
coast of South America, which was what flattered the
expectations of the people; nor was it ever carried into
execution by this company.
Some other sums were lent to the government in the
reign of Queen Anne at six per cent. In the third of
George I. the interest of the whole was reduced to five per
cent, and the company advanced two millions more to the
government at the same interest. By the statute of the
6th of George I. it was declared that they might redeem
all or any of the redeemable national debts ; in consider¬
ation of which the company were empowered to augment
their capital according to the sums they should discharge ;
and for enabling them to raise such sums for purchasing
annuities, exchanging for ready money new exchequer
bills, carrying on their trade, &c. they might, by such
184
COMPANY.
Company, means as they should think proper, raise such sums of
>—~Y-0 money as in a general court of the company should be
judged necessary. The company were also empowered
to raise money on the contracts, bonds, or obligations un¬
der their common seal, on the credit of their capital stock.
But if the sub-governor, deputy-governor, or other mem¬
bers of the company, should purchase lands or revenues
of the crown upon account of the corporation, or lend
money by loan or anticipation of any branch of the reve¬
nue, other than such part only on which a credit of loan
was granted by parliament, such sub-governor or other
member of the company should forfeit treble the value of
the money so lent.
The fatal South Sea scheme, transacted in the year
1720, was executed upon the last-mentioned statute. The
company had at first set out with good success, and the
value of their stock for the first five years had risen faster
than that of any other company; and his majesty, after
purchasing L.10,000 stock, had condescended to be their
governor. Things were in this situation, when, taking ad¬
vantage of the above statute, the South Sea bubble was
projected. The pretence was, to raise a fund for carrying
on a trade to the South Sea, and purchasing annuities, &c.
paid to the other companies; and proposals were printed
and distributed, showing the advantages of this design.
The sum necessary for carrying it on, together with the
profits that were to arise from it, were divided into a cer¬
tain number of shares or subscriptions, to be purchased by
persons disposed to adventure therein. And the better
to carry on the deception, the directors engaged to make
very large dividends ; and actually declared that every
L.100 original stock would yield L.50 per annum, which
occasioned so great a rise of their stock, that a share of
L.100 was sold for upwards of L.800. This was in the
month of July; but before the end of September it fell to
L.150, by which multitudes were ruined, and such a scene
of distress occasioned as is scarcely to be conceived. But
the consequences of this infamous scheme are too well
known; most of the directors were severely fined, to the
loss of nearly all their property. Some of them had no
hand in the deception, nor gained a farthing by it; but
it was agreed that they ought to have opposed and pre¬
vented it.
The South Sea Company never had any forts or garri¬
sons to maintain, and therefore were entirely exempted
from one great expense, to which other joint-stock com¬
panies for foreign trade are subject. But they had an im¬
mense capital divided among an immense number of pro¬
prietors. It was naturally to be expected, therefore, that
folly, negligence, and profusion should prevail in the whole
management of their affairs.
Their stock-jobbing speculations were succeeded by
mercantile projects, which, Dr Smith observes, were not
much better conducted. The first trade which they en¬
gaged in was that of supplying the Spanish West Indies
with negroes, of which, in consequence of what was called
the Assiento contract granted them by the treaty of
Utrecht, they had the exclusive privilege. But as it was
not expected that much could be made by this trade, both
the Portuguese and French companies, who had enjoyed
it upon the same terms before them, having been ruined
by it, they were allowed, as compensation, to send annu¬
ally a ship of a certain burden to trade directly to the
Spanish West Indies. Of the ten voyages which this an¬
nual ship was allowed to make, they are said to have gain¬
ed considerably by one, that of the Royal Caroline in 1731,
and to have been losers, more or less, by almost all the
rest. Their ill success was imputed, by their factors and
agents, to the extortion and oppression of the Spanish go¬
vernment ; but was, perhaps, principally owing to the pro¬
fusion and depredations of those very factors and agents, C
some of whom are said to have acquired great fortunes
even in one year. In 1734, the company petitioned the
king that they might be allowed to dispose of Ihe trade
and tonnage of their annual ship, on account of the little
profit which they made by it, and to accept of such equi¬
valent as they could obtain from the king of Spain.
In 1724 this company had undertaken the whale-fish¬
ery. Of this, indeed, they had no monopoly; but as long
as they carried it on, no other British subjects appear to
have engaged in it. Of the eight voyages which their ships
made to Greenland, they were gainers by one, and losers
by all the rest. After their eighth and last voyage, when
they had sold their ships, stores, and utensils, they found
that their whole loss, upon this branch, capital and inte¬
rest included, amounted to upwards of L.237,000.
In 1722 this company petitioned the parliament to be
allowed to divide their immense capital of more than
L.33,800,000, the whole of which had been lent to govern¬
ment, into two equal parts; the one half, or upwards of
L.36,900,000, to be put upon the same footing with other
government annuities, and not to be subject to the debts
contracted, or losses incurred, by the directors of the com¬
pany, in the prosecution of their mercantile projects ; the
other half to remain, as before, a trading stock, and to be
subject to those debts and losses. The petition was too
reasonable not to be granted. In 1733 they again petition¬
ed the parliament that three fourths of their trading stock
might be turned into annuity stock, and only one fourth
remain as trading stock, or exposed to the hazards arising
from the bad management of their directors. Both their
annuity and trading stocks had by this time been reduced
more than L.2,000,000 each, by several different payments
from government, so that this fourth amounted only to
L.3,662,784. 8s. 6d. In 1748 all the demands of the com¬
pany upon the king of Spain, in consequence of the As¬
siento contract, were, by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle,
given up for what was supposed an equivalent. An end
was put to their trade with the Spanish West Indies, the
remainder of their trading stock was turned into an annuity
stock, and the company ceased in every respect to be a
trading company.
This company is under the direction of a governor, sub¬
governor, deputy-governor, and twenty-one directors; but
no person is qualified to be governor, his majesty except¬
ed, unless such governor has in his own name and right
L.5000 in the trading stock; the sub-governor is to have
L.4000, the deputy-governor L.3000, and a director L.2000,
in the same stock. In every general court, every member
having in his own name and right L.500 in trading stock,
has one vote ; if L.2000, two votes; if L.3000, three votes;
and if L.5000, four votes.
2. The East India Company, See India.
3. Hudson's Bay Company. The vast countries which
surround Hudson’s Bay abound with animals whose furs
and skins are excellent, being far superior in quality to
those found in less northerly regions. In 1670, a charter
was granted to a company, which does not consist of above
nine or ten persons, for the exclusive trade to this bay.
They erected several forts, viz. Prince of Wales fort,
Churchill river, Nelson, New Severn, and Albany, which
stand on the west side of the bay, and are garrisoned by
186 men. The French, in May 1782, took and destroyed
these forts, and the settlements, &c. valued at L.500,000.
This company long carried on a lucrative and flourishing
trade; they exchanged the manufactures or luxuries of
Europe with the Indians for furs, which article they sold
at high prices in Europe, and thus they gained large
profits. They were at length rivalled in their trade by
the famous North-West Company, whose servants, con-
’
A,
Ujo
If |0
COM
any
.ari-
yi
COM
sisting of boatmen and others, displayed singular activity
and enterprise in collecting furs, in search of which they
penetrated the remote and frozen deserts of the Ameri¬
can continent; and by their superior activity acquired a
far more extensive trade than the Hudson’s Bay Company.
At a later period, when Lord Selkirk became a partner of
the company, a very keen rivalship was carried on between
the two establishments, which gave rise to scenes of vio¬
lence and to sanguinary contests between their servants,
when they happened to encounter each other in the remote
deserts and woods, far beyond the precincts of legal au¬
thority. This state of hostility was terminated in 1821,
by the coalition of the rival companies, namely, the Hud¬
son’s Bay Company and the North-West Company, by
whose united capital the fur trade is now' carried on to a
great extent.
Company, in military affairs, a small body of foot, com¬
manded by a captain, who has under him a lieutenant and
ensign. Companies not incorporated into regiments are
called irregulars, or independent companies.
COMPANY’S Island, an uninhabited island in the
North Pacific Ocean, about sixty miles in length and thirty
in breadth. Long. 151. 20. E. Lat. 46. N.
COMPARATIVE Anatomy. See Anatomy.
Comparative Degree, among grammarians, that between
the positive and superlative degrees, expressive of any
particular quality as above or below the level of another.
COMPARISON, in a general sense, the consideration
of the relation between two persons or things, when op¬
posed to each other, by which we are enabled to judge of
their agreement or difference.
Comparison of Ideas, an act of the mind, by which it
compares its ideas one with another, in respect of extent,
degree, time, place, or any other circumstances.
Comparison, in Grammar, the inflection of the compa¬
rative degree.
Comparison, in Rhetoric, is a figure by which two
things are considered with regard to a third, that is com¬
mon to both.
Instruction is the principal, but not the only end of com¬
parison. It may be employed with success in putting a
subject in a strong point of view. A lively idea is form¬
ed of a man’s courage by likening it to that of a lion ; and
eloquence is exalted in our imagination by comparing it to
a river which overflows its banks, involving all in its im¬
petuous course. The same effect is produced by contrast.
A man in prosperity becomes more sensible of his happi¬
ness, by comparing his condition with that of a person in
want of bread. Thus comparison is subservient to poetry
as well as to philosophy.
Comparisons serve two purposes : when addressed to the
understanding, their purpose is to instruct; when to the
heart, their purpose is to please. The means which con¬
tribute to the latter are various, as, first, the suggesting of
some unusual resemblance or contrast; secondly, the set¬
ting of an object in the strongest light; thirdly, the as¬
sociating of an object with others which are agreeable;
fourthly, the elevating of an object; and, lastly, the de¬
pressing of it. And that comparisons may thus afford
pleasure, will be made evident by examples, after premis¬
ing some general observations.
Objects of different senses cannot properly be compared
together; for such objects are totally separated from one
another, and have no circumstance in common to admit
either resemblance or contrast. Objects of hearing may be
compared together, as also of taste, of smell, and of touch ;
but the chief fund of comparison consists of objects of
sight; because, in writing or speaking, things can only be
compared in idea, and the ideas of sight are more distinct
and lively than those of any other sense.
VOL. VII.
185
It has no good effect to compare things by way of si- Compari-
mile that are of the same kind, nor to contrast things of son'
different kinds. The following is a comparison built upon
a resemblance so obvious as to make little or no impres¬
sion. Speaking of the fallen angels searching for mines of
gold, Milton says,
A numerous brigade hasten’d: as when bands
Of pioneers, with spade and pickaxe arm’d,
Forerun the royal camp, to trench a field
Or cast a rampart.
In the following passage, again, we have things con¬
trasted which are of different kinds.
Queen. What! is my Richard both in shape and mind
Transform’d and weak ? Hath Bolingbroke depos’d
Thine intellect ? Hath he been in thy heart P
The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw.
And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
To be o’erpower’d : and wilt thou, pupil-like,
Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod,
And fawn on rage with base humility ?
This comparison has scarcely any force. A man and a
lion are of different species, and therefore are proper sub¬
jects for a simile; but there is no such resemblance be¬
tween them in general as to produce any strong effect by
contrasting particular attributes or circumstances.
A third general observation is, that abstract terms can
never be the subject of comparison, otherwise than by
being personified. Shakspeare compares adversity to a
toad, and slander to the bite of a crocodile; but in such
comparisons these abstract terms must be imagined to be
impersonations, not entities.
To have a just notion of comparisons, they must be dis¬
tinguished into two kinds; one common and familiar, as
where a man is compared to a lion in courage, or to a
horse in speed; and another more distant and refined,
as where two things which have in themselves no resem¬
blance or opposition, are compared with respect to their
effects. Thus there is no resemblance between a flower¬
pot and a cheerful song; and yet they may be compared
with respect to their effects, because the emotions they
produce in the mind are felt or imagined to be similar.
We now proceed to illustrate, by particular instances,
the different means by which comparisons, whether of the
one sort or the other, can afford pleasure; and, in the
order above established, we shall begin with such instan¬
ces as are agreeable, by suggesting some unusual resem¬
blance or contrast. Thus:
Sweet are the uses of Adversity,
Which, like the toad ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in her head.
Again:
See how the morning opes her golden gates,
And takes her farewell of the glorious sun ;
How well resembles it the prime of youth,
Trimm’d like a younker prancing to his love.
Once more:
Thus they their doubtful consultations dark
Ended, rejoicing in their matchless chief:
As when from mountain tops, the dusky clouds
Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o’erspread
Heaven’s cheerful face, the lowering element
Scowls o’er the darken’d landscape, snow, and shower;
If chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet
Extends his ev’ning beam, the fields revive,
The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds
Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings.
None of the foregoing similes tends to illustrate the prin¬
cipal subject, and therefore the chief pleasure they afford
must arise from suggesting resemblances which are not
obvious ; for undoubtedly a beautiful subject introduced to
form the simile affords a separate pleasure, which is felt
2 a
186
COMPARISON.
Compari. in the similes mentioned, particularly in that cited from
son. Milton. #
Following the order above mentioned, the next effect ot
a comparison is to place an object in a strong point of view ;
which effect is remarkable in the following examples :
As when two scales are charg’d with doubtful loads,
From side to side the trembling balance nods
(While some laborious matron, just and poor,
With nice exactness weighs her woolly store), .
Till pois’d aloft, the resting beam suspends
Each equal weight, nor this nor that descends ;
So stood the war, till Hector’s matchless might,
With fates prevailing, turn’d the scale of fight.
Fierce as a whirlwind up the wall he flies,
And fires his host with loud repeated cries.
Again:
O thou goodness,
Thou divine nature ! how thyself thou blazon’s!
In these two princely boys ! they are as gentle
As zephyrs blowing below the violet,
Not wagging his sweet head ; and yet as rough
(Their rovai blood inchaf’d) as the rudest wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain-pine,
And make him stoop to the vale.
As words convey but a faint and obscure notion of great
numbers, a poet, to give a lively notion of the object he
describes, with regard to number, does well to compare it
to what is familiar and commonly known. Thus Homer,
in one passage, compares the Grecian army in point of num¬
ber to a swarm of bees ; and in another to that profusion
of leaves and flowers which appear in the spring, or of in¬
sects in a summer’s evening. Thus also Milton,
As when the potent rod
Of Amram’s son in Egypt’s evil day
Wav’d round the coast, up call’d a pitchy cloud
Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind,
That o’er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung
Like night, and darken'd all the land of Nile ;
So numberless were those had angels seen,
Hov’ring on wing under the cope of hell,
’Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires.
Comparisons like these have, by some writers, been con¬
demned for the lowness of the images introduced, but
without reason ; for, in regard to number, they place the
principal subject in a strong light.
The foregoing comparisons operate by resemblance;
others have the same effect by contrast. Thus:
York. I am the last of noble Edward’s sons,
Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first.
In war was never lion rag’d more fierce,
In peace was never gentle iamb more mild,
Than was that young and princely gentleman.
His face thou hast, for even so look’d he,
Accomplish’d with the number of thy hours;
But when he frown’d, it was against the French,
And not against his friends. His noble hand
Hid win what he did spend; and spent not that
Which his triumphant father’s hand had wron.
His hands were guilty of no kindred’s blood,
But bloody with the enemies of his kin.
Oh, llichard, York is too far gone with grief,
Or else he never would compare between.
Milton has a peculiar talent for embellishing the princi¬
pal subject by associating it with others that are agree¬
able ; which is the third end of a comparison. Similes of
this kind have besides another effect: they diversify the nar¬
ration by new images which are not strictly necessary to
the comparison, and are short episodes, which, without
drawing us from the principal subject, afford great delight
by their beauty and variety. Thus, in Milton :
He scarce had ceas’d, when the superior fiend
Was moving toward the shore ; his pond’rous shield,
Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round.
Behind him cast: the broad circumference
Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb c
Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views
At evening from the top of Fesole, k*.
Or in Yaldarno, to descry new lands,
Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe.
Next, with regard to comparisons which aggrandise or
elevate, these affect us more than any other species of
similes, as will be evident from the following instances:
As when a flame the winding valley fills,
And runs on crackling shrubs between the hills,
Then o’er the stubble up the mountain flies,
Fires the high woods, and blazes to the skies,
This way and that the spreading torrent roars;
So sweeps the hero through the wasted shores.
Around him wide, immense destruction pours.
And earth is deluged with the sanguine show’rs.
Methinks King Richard and myself should meet
With no less terror than the elements
Of fire and water, when their thund’ring shock,
At meeting, tears the cloudy'cheeks of heaven.
The last article mentioned is that of lessening or de¬
pressing a hated or disagreeable object; which is effectu¬
ally done by comparing it to any thing low or despicable.
Thus Milton, in his description of the route of the rebel
angels, happily expresses their terror and dismay in the
following simile :
 As a herd
Of goats or timorous flock together throng’d,
Drove them before him thunder-struck, pursu’d
With terrors and with furies to the bounds
And crystal wall of heav’n, which op’ning wide,
Roll’d inward, and a spacious gap disclos’d
Into the wasteful deep; the monstrous sight
Struck them with horror backward, but far worse
Urg’d them behind; headlong themselves they threw
Down from the verge of heav’n.
The different purposes of comparison, and the various
impressions it makes on the mind, may easily be under¬
stood from these familiar examples. But it is more dif¬
ficult to lay down rules concerning the propriety or im¬
propriety of comparisons ; in what circumstances they
may be introduced, and in what circumstances they aie
out of place. It is evident that a comparison is not pro¬
per upon every occasion: a man in his cool and sedate
moments is not disposed to poetical flights, nor to saciiuee
truth and reality to the delusive phantasies of the imagi¬
nation ; far less is he so disposed when oppressed with
care, or interested in some important transaction which
occupies his whole mind. On the other hand, it is ob¬
served, that a person, when elevated or animated by any
passion, is disposed to elevate or animate all his sub¬
jects ; he avoids familiar names, exalts objects by circum¬
locution and metaphor, and gives even life arid voluntary
action to inanimate beings. In this ardour of mind, the
highest poetical flights are indulged in, and the boldest
similes and metaphors relished, but without soaiing so
high, the mind is frequently in a tone to relish chaste and
moderate ornament; such as comparisons which place
the principal object in a strong point ot view, or embe -
lish and diversify the narration. In general, when by any
animating passion, whether pleasant or painful, an impu se
is given to the imagination, we are in that condition which
predisposes to every sort of figurative expression, and in
particular to comparisons. I his is in a great measure evi
dent from the comparisons already mentioned, and shall
be further illustrated by other instances. Love, for ex¬
ample, in its infancy, rousing the imagination, prompts the
heart to display itself in figurative language, and in similes.
Thus:
Trotlus. Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne’s love,
What Cressida is, what Bandar, and what we ?
COMPARISON.
Her bed is India—there she lies a pearl:
>ri‘ Between our Ilium and where she resides,
. Let it be call’d the wild and wand’ring flood;
Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar
Our doubtful hope, our convoy, and our bark.
Again:
Come, gentle night; come, loving blaek-brow’d night!
Give me my liomeo : and when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heav’n so fine
That all the world shall be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
But it will better illustrate the present bead, if we give
examples where comparisons are improperly introduced.
Similes are not the language of a man in his ordinary state
of mind, dispatching his daily and usual work; for which
reason the following speech of a gardener to his servant is
extremely improper:
Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricots,
Which, like unruly children, make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight:
Give some supportances to the bending twigs.
Go thou, and, like an executioner,
Cut off1 the heads of two fast growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth :
All must be even in our government.
Rooted grief, deep anguish, terror, remorse, despair,
and all the severe dispiriting passions, are declared ene¬
mies, perhaps not to figurative language in general, but
undoubtedly.to the pomp and solemnity of comparison.
Upon this account the simile pronounced by young Rut¬
land, under terror of death from an inveterate enemy, and
praying for mercy, is unnatural:
So looks the pent-up lion o’er the wretch
That trembles under his devouring paws ;
And so he walks insulting o’er his prey.
And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder.
Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword,
And not with such a cruel threat’ning look.
A man exhausted and dispirited after losing a battle is
not disposed to heighten or illustrate his discourse by
similes.
Yorl<. With this we charg’d again ; but out! alas,
We bodg’d again ; as l have seen a swan
With bootless labour swim against the tide,
And spend her strength with over-matching waves.
Ah ! hark, the fatal followers do pursue,
And I am faint and cannot fly their fury.
The sands are number’d that make up my life;
Here must I stay, and here my life must end.
Similes thus unseasonably introduced are finely ridi¬
culed in the Rehearsal.
Bayes. Now here she must make a simile.
Smith. Where’s the necessity of that, Mr Bayes ?
Bayes. Because she’s surprised; that’s a general rule. You
must ever make a simile when you are surprised ; ’tis a new way
of writing.
A comparison is not always faultless, even where it is
properly introduced; for, like other human productions,
it may fall short of its end. Of this defect instances are
not rare even among good writers ; and to complete the
present subject, it will be necessary to make some obser¬
vations upon such faulty comparisons. Nothing can be
more erroneous than to institute a comparison too faintly ;
a distant resemblance or contrast fatigues the mind with
its obscurity, instead of amusing it, and tends not to fulfil
any one end of a comparison. The following similes seem
to labour under this defect:
K. Rich. Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown.
Here on this side, my hand ; on that side, thine.
Now is this golden crown like a deep well,
That owres two buckets, filling one another;
The emptier ever dancing in the air,
The other down, unseen, and full of water;
That bucket down, and full of tears, am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
K. John. Oh ! cousin, thou art come to set mine eye;
The tackle of my heart is crack’d and burnt;
And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail,
Are turned to one thread, one little hair:
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Which holds but till thy news be uttered. *
York. My uncles both ai*e slain in rescuing me :
And all my followers to the eager foe
Turn back, and fly like ships before the wind,
Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves.
The last of these two similes is good ; the first, because
of the faintness of the resemblance, produces no effect,
and crowds the narration with an useless image.
In an epic poem, or in any elevated subject, a writer
ought to avoid raising a simile upon a low image, which
never fails to lower the principal subject. In general,
it is a rule, that a grand object ought never to be re¬
sembled to one that is diminutive, however delicate the
resemblance may be; for it is the peculiar character of a
grand object to fix the attention and swell the mind ; in
which state, it is disagreeable to contract the mind to a
minute object, however elegant. The comparing an ob¬
ject to one that is greater, has, on the contrary, a good ef¬
fect, by raising or exalting the mind ; for one passes with
satisfaction from a small to a great object, but cannot be
drawn down, without reluctance, from great to small.
Hence the following similes are faulty :
Meanwhile the troops beneath Patroclus’ care
InvadeAhe Trojans, and commence the war.
As wasps, provok’d by children in their play,
Pour from their mansions by the broad highway,
In swarms the guiltless traveller engage,
Whet all their stings, and call forth all their rage;
All rise in arms, and with a general cry
Assert their waxen domes and buzzing progeny :
Thus from their tents the fervent legion swarms.
So loud their clamours, and so keen their arms.
So burns the vengeful hornet (soul all o’er).
Repulsed in vain, and thirsty still of gore;
(Bold son of air and heat) on angry wings
Untamed, untired, he turns, attacks, and stings.
Fired with like ardour, fierce Atrides flew.
And sent his soul with every lance he threw.
An error opposite to the former is the introducing of a
resembling image, so elevated or great as to bear no pro¬
portion to the principal subject. The remarkable dispa¬
rity of the things compared being the most striking cir¬
cumstance, seizes the mind, and never fails to depress the
principal subject by contrast, instead of raising it by re¬
semblance. And if the disparity be exceedingly great,
the simile assumes an air of burlesque; nothing being
more ridiculous than to force an object out of its proper
rank in nature, by assimilating it to one greatly superior
or greatly inferior. This will be evident from the following
comparison:—
Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring,
So roar’d the lock, when it released the spring.
Such a simile regarding the simplest of all acts, that of
opening a lock, is absurd from its inaptitude, and burlesque
from its extravagant disproportion.
COMPARTITION, in Architecture, denotes the useful
and graceful disposition of the whole ground-plot of an
edifice, into rooms of office, and of reception or entertain¬
ment.
COMPARTMENT, in general, is a design composed
of several different figures, disposed with symmetry, to
adorn a parterre, a ceiling, or the like.
is;
Compari¬
son
Compart¬
ment.
188 COM
Compass A compartment of tiles or bricks is an arrangement of
II them, of different colours, and varnished, for the decora-
Compasses. t{Qn 0f a building. Compartments in gardening are an
assemblage of beds, plots, borders, walks, and the like,
disposed in the most advantageous manner which the
ground will admit of. Compartments in heraldry are other¬
wise called partitions.
COMPASS, or Mariner's Steering Compass. See Ma¬
riner’s Compass.
CoMPAss-Dials are small horizontal dials, fitted in brass
or silver boxes, for the pocket, to show the hour of the
day, by the direction of a needle that indicates how to
place them right, by turning the dial about till the cock
or style stands directly over the needle; but these can
never be very exact, because of the variation of the nee¬
dle itself. See Dialing. .
COMPASSES, or Pair of Compasses, a mathematical
instrument for describing circles, measuring figures, and
the like. # .
The common compasses consist of two sharp-pointed
branches or legs of iron, steel, brass, or other metal, join¬
ed together at the top by a rivet, whereon they move as
on a centre. Those compasses are the best in which
the pin or axle on which the joint turns, and also half
the joint itself, are made of steel, as the opposite metals
wear more equably. TLhe perfection of compasses may be
known by the easy and uniform opening and shutting of
their legs; one of which is sometimes made to take in and
out, in order to make room for two other points to describe
with ink, black-lead, or other materials. There are com¬
passes of various kinds and contrivances, accommodated
to the various uses they are intended for.
Compasses of Three Legs, or Triangular Compasses, are,
setting aside the excess of a leg, of the same structure
with the common ones: and their use is to take three
points at once, so as to form triangles; to lay down three
positions of a map, to be copied at once, &c.
Beam-Compasses consist of a long branch, or beam,
made of brass or wood, carrying two brass cursors, the
one fixed at one end, the other sliding along the beam,
with a screw to fasten it occasionally. Io the cursors may
be screwed points of any kind, whether steel for pencils,
or the like. Beam-compasses are used to draw large cir¬
cles, to take great extents, &c. To the fixed cursor is
sometimes applied an adjusting or micrometer screw, by
which an extent is obtained to extreme nicety.
Clockmakers Compasses are joined like the common
compasses, with a quadrant or bow like the spring com¬
passes, only of different use, as here it serves to keep the in¬
strument firm at any opening. They are made very strong,
with the points of their legs of well-tempered steel, being
used to draw lines on pasteboard or copper.
Cylindrical and Spherical Compasses consist of four
branches, joined in a centre, two of which are circular and
two flat, being a little bent on the ends. Their use is to
take the diameter, thickness, or calibre of round or cylin-
dric bodies, such as cannons, pipes, &c.
Elliptic Compasses are used to draw ellipses, or ovals
of any kind. They consist of a beam about a foot long,
bearing three cursors, to one of which may be screw¬
ed points of any kind. To the bottom of the other two
are rivetted two sliding dovetails, adjusted in grooves
made in the cross branches of the beam. As the dovetails
have a motion every way, by turning about the long branch,
they go backwards and forwards along the cross ; so
that when the beam has gone half way about, one of these
will have moved the whole length of one of the branches;
and when the beam has got quite round, the same dove¬
tail will have got back the whole length of the branch. The
use of this compass is easy; by turning round the long
COM
branch, the ink, pencil, or other point, will draw the ellip-conA
sis required. _ tif
German Compasses have their legs a little bent out- C°q
wards towards the top ; so that when shut the points only s 1
meet.
Hair Compasses are so contrived withinside, by a small
adjusting screw to one of the legs, as to take an extent to
a hair’s breadth.
Lapidaries' Compasses are a piece of wood, in form of
the shaft of a plane, cleft at top, as far as half its length;
and with this the angles, &c. of jewels and precious stones
are measured. There is in the cleft a little brass rule,
fastened at one end by a pin, but so that it may be moved
in the manner of a brass level. With this kind of square
lapidaries take the angles of the stones, laying these on
the shaft as they cut them.
Proportional Compasses are those whose joint lies be¬
tween the points terminating each leg. They are either
simple or compound. In the former sort the centre is
fixed, so that one pair of these serves only for one propor¬
tion. The latter consist of two parts or sides of brass,
which lie upon each other so nicely as to appear but one
when they are shut. The sides open easily, and move
about a centre, which is itself moveable in a hollow canal
cut through the greater part of their length. To this
centre, on each side, is affixed a sliding piece, of a small
length, with a fine line drawn on it, serving as an index,
to be set against other lines or divisions placed upon the
compasses on both sides. These lines are,- 1. a line of
lines; 2. a line of superficies, areas, or planes; 3. a line
of solids; 4. a line of circles, or rather of polygons to be
inscribed in circles. These lines are all unequally divided;
the three first from one to twenty, the last from six to
twenty.
The use of the first is to divide a line into any number
of equal parts; by the second and third are found the
sides of like planes or solids in any given proportions ; and
by the fourth, circles are divided into any number of equal
parts, or any polygons inscribed in them.
Spring Compasses, or dividers, those with an arched
head, which by its spring opens the legs; the opening
being directed by a circular screw fastened to one of the
legs and let through the other, worked with a nut. These
compasses are made of hardened steel.
Trisecting Compasses consist of two central rules, and
an arch of circles of 120 degrees, immoveable, with its ra¬
dius, which is fastened with one of the central rules, like
the two legs of a sector, in order that the central rule may
be carried through all the points of the circumference or
the arch. The radius and rule should be as thin as pos¬
sible ; the rule fastened to the radius should be hammered
cold, to attain the greater elasticity; and the breadth of
the central rule should be triple that of the radius. Ihere
must also be a groove in this rule, with a dovetail fastened
on it for its motion, and a hole in the centre of each rule.
The use of this instrument is to facilitate the trisection of
angles geometrically.
Turn-up-Compasses. The body of this instrument is
like the common compasses; but towards the bottom of
the legs, outside, are added two other points besides
the usual ones, the one of which carries a drawing pen
point, and the other a port-crayon, both adjusted so as to
turn round, and be in the way of use, or out of it, as oc¬
casion requires. These compasses have been contrived to
save the trouble of changing the points.
COMPASSION, or Commiseration, a mixed passion,
compounded of love and sorrow, and excited by the sight
or recital of distress. Hobbes makes this a merely selfish
passion, and defines it as consisting of fear for ourselves.
Hutcheson resolves it into instinct; but Dr Butler, much
ft
COM
COM
189
omj
>om
I'nemore properly, considers it as an original, distinct, parti¬
cular affection in human nature.
i?x* COMPEIGNE, an arrondissement of the department
V 0f the Oise, in France, extending over 530 square miles,
divided into eight cantons, and these again into 165 com¬
munes, containing 92,660 inhabitants. The city which
gives the name to it is a well-built place on the river Oise,
near to the place where the Aisne empties itself into that
river. It contains 1476 houses, and 6260 inhabitants. It
is a place of some trade for timber and cordage, and for
the building of craft to navigate on the Seine between
Rouen and Paris. Long. 2. 44. E. Lat. 49. 24. N.
COMPENDIUM, in matters of literature, denotes much
the same thing as epitome or abridgment.
COMPENSATION, in a general sense, an action by
which any thing is admitted as an equivalent for another.
Compensation, in Law. When the same person is
debtor and creditor to another, the mutual obligations, if
they are for equal sums, are extinguished by compensa¬
tion ; if for unequal, the lesser obligation is extinguished,
and the greater diminished, as far as the concourse of debt
and credit extends.
COMPETENTES, an order of catechumens, in the pri¬
mitive Christian church, being the immediate candidates
for baptism.
COMPETALIA, or Competalita, feasts held among
the ancients in honour of the lares. The word comes from
the Latin compitam, a cross-way, because the feast was
held in the meeting of several roads. The competalia are
more ancient than the building of Rome. Dionysius Halicar-
nasseus and Pliny, indeed, say that they were instituted by
Servius Tullius ; but this only signifies that they were then
introduced into Home. The feast being moveable, the day
on which it was to be observed was proclaimed every year.
It was ordinarily held on the fourth of the nones of Fe¬
bruary, or on the second of that month. Macrobius ob¬
serves, that it was held not only in honour of the lares, but
also of mania, madness. The priests who officiated were
slaves and liberti, and the sacrifice was a sow. The com¬
petalia were re-established, after a long neglect, by Tarquin
the Proud, on occasion of an answer of the oracle, that they
should sacrifice heads for heads, that is, that for the health
and prosperity of each family, children were to be sacri¬
ficed: but Brutus, after expelling the kings, in lieu of
those barbarous victims substituted the heads of garlic
and poppy; thus satisfying the oracle, which had enjoined
capita, heads. During the celebration of this festival, each
family placed at the door of their house the statue of the
goddess Mania, and also hung up at their doors figures
of wool, representing men and women; accompanying them
with supplications that the lares and mania would be con¬
tented with those figures, and spare the people of the
house.
COMPLEMENT, in Geometry, is what remains of the
quadrant of a circle, or 90°, after any given arch has
been taken away from it. Thus, if the arch taken away
be 40°, its complement is 50; because 50 + 40=:90. The
sine of the complement of an arch is called the cosine, and
that of the tangent the cotangent, and so on.
COMPLEX, in a more general sense, is a term synony¬
mous with compound; though in strictness of speech there
is considerable difference.
Complex is properly applied where a thing contains
many others, or consists of different parts which are not
really distinct from each other, but only imagined or con¬
ceived to be so. In this sense the soul may be said to be
complex, in respect of the understanding and will, which
are two things that our reason alone distinguishes in it.
Complex Term, or Idea, is a term compounded of seve¬
ral simple or incomplex ones. Thus, in the proposition, a
just God cannot leave crimes unpunished, the subject of Com-
this proposition, a just God, is a complex term, or stands plexion.
for a complex idea composed of two simple or incom-
plex ones, God and just.
COMPLEXION, among physicians, the temperament,
habitude, and natural disposition of the body; but more
often the colour of the face and skin.
Few questions in philosophy have engaged the atten¬
tion of naturalists more than the diversities among the
human species, among which that of colour is the most
remarkable. The great differences in this respect have
given occasion to several authors to assert that the whole
human race have not sprung from one original, but that
as many different species of men were at first created as
there are now different colours to be found among them.
It is certainly a matter of no small difficulty to account
for the remarkable variations of colour that are to be found
among different nations. On this subject Dr Flunter pub¬
lished a thesis, in which he considers the matter more ac¬
curately than has commonly been done, and determines
absolutely against any specific difference among mankind.
He introduces his subject by observing, that when the
question has been agitated, whether all the human race
constituted only one species or not, much confusion has
arisen from the sense in which the term species has been
adopted. He therefore thinks it necessary to set out with
a definition of the term. He includes under the same spe¬
cies all those animals which produce issue capable of pro¬
pagating others resembling the original stock from whence
they sprung. This definition he illustrates, by having re¬
course to the human species as an example; and, in this
sense of the term, he concludes that all of them are to be
considered as belonging to the same species. And as, in
the case of plants, one species comprehends several varie¬
ties depending upon climate, soil, culture, and similar ac¬
cidents; so he considers the diversities of the human race
to be merely varieties of the same species, produced by
natural causes. Of the different colours observable among
mankind, he gives the following view:—
Black. Africans under the line.
Inhabitants of New Guinea.
Inhabitants of New Holland.
Swarthy. The Moors in the northern parts of Africa.
The Hottentots in the southern parts of it.
Copper coloured. The East Indians.
Red coloured. The Americans.
Brown coloured. Tartars.
Persians.
Arabs.
Africans on the coast of the Medi¬
terranean.
Chinese.
Brownish. The inhabitants of the southern parts of
Europe; as Sicilians and Spaniards, as
well as the Abyssinians in Africa.
Turks, and likewise the Samoiedes and Lap¬
landers.
White. Most of the European nations; as,
Swedes.
Danes.
English.
Germans.
Poles, &c.
Kabardinski.
Georgians.
Inhabitants of the islands in the Pacific Ocean.
In attempting to investigate the causes of these differ¬
ences, our author observes, that there can be no dispute of
the seat of colour being placed in the skin ; that it is not
190
COMPLEXION.
Com¬
plexion.
even extended over the whole of this, but confined to
that part named the cuticle, consisting of the epidermis
and reticulum ; and that it chiefly occupies the latter of
these. The cuticle is much thicker and harder in black
than in white people ; the reticulum in the latter being a
thin mucus, in the former a thick membrane. He con¬
cludes that this seat of colour in the whites is transpa¬
rent, and either totally deprived of vessels, or only fur¬
nished with very few; as the yellow colour appearing in
jaundice vanishes on the cause of the disease being re¬
moved, which is not the case with stains in the cuticle
from gunpowder or similar causes. He next points out
three causes destroying the pellucidity of. the cuticle,
giving it a brown colour, and rendering it thicker. These
are, access of air, nastiness, and the heat of the sun. The
influence of each of these he proves by many examples,
and from them he is inclined to consider the last as by
much the most powerful. If, however, it be admitted
that these causes have this effect, he thinks that all the
diversity of colour which is to be observed among man¬
kind may be thus accounted for. He remarks that all the
inhabitants of the torrid zone incline more or less to a
black colour. When we observe the diffeiences which
occur among them, we must at the same time remember
that a black colour is not referred to heat alone, but to
the other causes also ; and when we attend to the diver¬
sity of temperature that occurs even in the torrid zone,
the existence of a white nation there would by no means
destroy the argument. He is further of opinion that the
existence of a brown colour, and of considerable varieties
from white, in the northern and coldest parts of Europe,
may very easily be explained. This he accounts for from
the manner of life of the inhabitants, by which they are
either exposed to the inclemency of the air, or to con¬
stant nastiness from smoky houses.
Having thus attempted to account, from natural causes,
for the varieties which occur among mankind with respect
to colour, our author observes that, to all this reasoning
an objection wall naturally be made from considering that
infants bring these marks into the world along with them,
before they can be exposed to any such causes. Dr Hun¬
ter imagines, however, that this may readily be explained
upon the supposition that many peculiarities acquired by
parents are transmitted to their posterity; and of this he
thinks- no one can entertain the least doubt who attends to
hereditary diseases. Thus gout, scrofula, mania, and many
other affections, although at first induced by particular
accidents, will continue to affect families for many gene¬
rations. In the same manner a parent exposed to causes
destroying the natural whiteness of his complexion will
beget swarthy children ; and the same causes continuing
to operate upon the son, the blackness will be increased.
Thus all the different shades may have been at first in¬
duced, and afterwards continued.
The subject of complexion has been very well illustrat¬
ed by Mr Clarkson, in a dissertation introduced in .his
essay on the commerce and slavery of the human species.
The first point that occurs to be ascertained is, what part
of the skin is the seat of colour ? The old anatomists
usually divide the skin into two parts or laminae ; the ex¬
terior and thinnest, called by the Greeks epidermis, by the
Romans cuticula, and hence by us cuticle ; and the inte¬
rior, called by the former derma, and by the latter cutis,
or true shin. Hence they must necessarily have supposed
that, as the true skin was in every respect the same in all
human subjects, however various their external hue, so
the seat of colour must have existed in the cuticle or upper
surface.
Malpighi, an eminent Italian physician of the last cen¬
tury, was the first person who discovered that the skin
was divided into three laminae or parts, the cuticle, the
true skin, and a certain coagulated substance situated be- \
tween both, which he distinguished by the title of rete
mucosum; which coagulated substance adhered so firm-
ly to the cuticle as, in all former anatomical prepara¬
tions, to have come off with it, and from this circum¬
stance to have led the ancient anatomists to believe that
there were but two laminae or divisible portions in the hu¬
man skin.
This, discovery was sufficient to ascertain the point in
question ; for it appeared afterwards that the cuticle, when
divided according to this discovery from the other lamina,
was semitransparent; that the cuticle of the blackest ne¬
gro was of the same transparency and colour as that of
the purest white ; and hence, the true skins of both being
invariably the same, that the rete mucosum was the seat
of colour.
This has been further confirmed by all subsequent ana¬
tomical experiments, by which it appears that, whatever
is the colour of this intermediate coagulated substance,
nearly the same is the apparent colour of the upper sur¬
face of the skin. Neither can it be otherwise ; for the
cuticle, from its transparency, must necessarily transmit
the colour of the substance beneath it, in the same man¬
ner, though not in the same degree, as the cornea trans¬
mits the colour of the iris of the eye. this transpai’ency
is a matter of ocular demonstration in white people. It is
conspicuous in every blush ; for no one can imagine that
the cuticle becomes red as often as this happens : nor is
it less discoverable’in the veins, which are so easy to be
discerned ; for no one can suppose that the blue streaks
which he constantly sees in the fairest complexions are
painted, as it were, on the surface of the upper skin.
From these, and a variety of other observations, no maxhn
is more true in physiology than that on the rete mucosum
depends the colour of the human body ; or, in other words,
that the rete mucosum being of a different colour in differ¬
ent inhabitants of the globe, and appearing through the
cuticle or upper surface of the skin, gives them that va¬
rious appearance which strikes us so forcibly in contem¬
plating the human race.
As this can be incontrovertibly ascertained, it is evident
that, whatever causes co-operate in producing this differ¬
ent appearance, they produce it by acting on the rete
mucosum, which, from the almost incredible manner in
which the cuticle is perforated, is as accessible as the
cuticle itself. These causes are probably those various
qualities of things which, combined with the influence of
the sun, contribute to form what we call climate. lor
when any person considers that the mucous substance be¬
fore mentioned is found to vary in its colour, as the cli¬
mates vary from the equator to the poles, his mind must
be instantly struck with the hypothesis, and he must adopt
it without any hesitation as the genuine cause of the phe¬
nomenon.
This fact of the variation of the mucous substance, ac¬
cording to the situation of the place, has been deafly
ascertained in the numerous anatomical experiments that
have been made, in which subjects of all nations have
come under consideration. The natives of many of the
kingdoms and isles of Asia are found to have their rete
mucosum black : those of Africa, situated near the line, of
the same colour ; those of the maritime parts of the same
continent of a dusky brown, nearly approaching to it; and
the colour becomes lighter or darker in proportion as the
distance from the equator is either greater or less. 1 he
Europeans are the fairest inhabitants of the world, loose
situated in the most southern regions of Europe have m
their rete mucosum a tinge of the dark hue ot their A n-
can neighbours ; hence the epidemic complexion prevalent
among them is nearly of the colour of the pickled Spa-
L. nish olive ; while in this country, and those situated nearer
^ the north pole, it appears to be nearly, if not absolutely,
white.
These are facts which anatomy has established ; and we
acknowledge them to be such that we cannot divest our¬
selves of the idea that climate has a considerable share in
producing a difference of colour.
The only objection of any consequence that has ever
been made to the hypothesis of climate is this, that people
under the same parallels are not exactly of the same co¬
lour. But this is no objection in fact; for it does not fol¬
low that those countries which are at an equal distance
from the equator should have their climates the same.
Indeed nothing is more contrary to experience than this.
Climate depends upon a variety of accidents. High
mountains in the neighbourhood of a place make it cooler,
by chilling the air that is carried over them by the winds.
Large spreading succulent plants, if among the produc¬
tions of the soil, have the same effect; they afford agree¬
able cooling shades and a moist atmosphere from their
continual exhalations, by which the ardour of the sun is
considerably abated. While the soil, on the other hand,
if of a sandy nature, retains the heat in an uncommon de¬
gree, and makes the summers considerably hotter than
those which are found to exist in the same latitude where
the soil is different. To this proximity of what may be
termed burning sands, and to the sulphureous and metallic
particles which are continually exhaling from the bowels
of the earth, are ascribed the different degrees of blackness
by which some African nations are distinguished from
each other, though under the same parallels. To these
observations we may add, that though the inhabitants of
the same parallel are not exactly of the same hue, yet
they differ only by shades of the same colour; or, to speak
with more precision, that there are no two people in such
a situation, one of whom is white and the other black To
sum up the whole, suppose we were to take a common globe,
to begin at the equator, to paint every country along the
meridian line in succession from thence to the poles, and
to paint them with the same colour which prevails in the
respective inhabitants of each, we should see the black,
with which we had been obliged to begin, insensibly chang¬
ing to an olive, and the olive, through as many interme¬
diate colours, to a white; and if, on the other hand, we
should complete any one of the parallels according to the
same plan, we should see a difference perhaps in the ap¬
pearance of some of the countries through which it ran,
though the difference would consist wholly in shades of
the same colour.
The argument, therefore, which is brought against the
I hypothesis is so far from being an objection, that it may
be considered as one of the first arguments in its favour ;
foi if the climate has really an influence on the mucous
substance of the body, it is evident that we must not only
expect to see a gradation of colour in the inhabitants from
the equator to the poles, but also different shades of the
same colour in the inhabitants of the same parallel.
Io this argument may be added one that is incontro¬
vertible, which is, that when the black inhabitants of Africa
are transplanted to colder, or the white inhabitants of Eu-
hotter climates, their children born there are of a
ifferent colour from themselves; that is, lighter in the
hist, and darker in the second instance. As a proof of the
hrst, we shall give the words of the Abbe Raynal. “ The
c i dren, says he, “ which they (the Africans) procreate
in America, are not so black as their parents were. After
eac i generation the difference becomes more palpable.
is possible, that after a numerous succession of genera¬
tions, the men come from Africa would not be distinguish¬
ed fiom those of the country into which they may have
een transplanted. This circumstance we have had the
pleasure of hearing confirmed by a variety of persons who
have been witnesses of the fact; but particularly by many
intelligent Africans, who have been parents themselves in
America, and who have declared, that the difference is so
palpable in the northern provinces, that not only they
themselves have constantly observed it, but that they have
heard it observed by others. J
Neither is this variation in the children from the colour
of the parents improbable. The children of the blackest
Africans are bom white. In this state they continue for
about a month, when they change to a pale yellow. In
process of time they become brown. Their skin still con¬
tinues to increase in darkness with their age, till it becomes
of a dirty sallow black ; and at length, after a certain period
of years, glossy and shining. Now, if climate has any in¬
fluence on the mucous substance of the body, this varia¬
tion in the children from the colour of their parents is an
event which must be reasonably expected; for being born
white, and not having equally powerful causes to act upon
them in colder, as their parents had in the hotter climes
which they left, it must necessarily follow' that the same
effect cannot possibly be produced.
Hence also, ii the hypothesis be admitted, may be de¬
duced the reason why even those children who have been
brought from their country at an early age into colder re¬
gions, have been observed to be of a lighter colour than
those who have remained at home till they arrived at a
state of manhood. Tor having undergone some of the
changes which we mentioned to have attended their
countrymen from infancy to a certain age, and having been
taken aw’ay before the rest could be completed, these far¬
ther changes, which would have taken place had they re¬
mained at home, seem either to have been checked in
their progress, or weakened in their degree, by a colder
climate.
We come now to the second and opposite case; for a
proof of which we shall appeal to the words of Dr Mitchell,
in the Philosophical Transactions, No. 476, sect. 4: “ The
Spaniards who have inhabited America under the torrid
zone lor any time, are become as dark coloured as our
native Indians of Virginia, of which I myself have been a
witness ; and were they not to intermarry with the Euro¬
peans, but lead the same rude and barbarous lives with the
Indians, it is very probable that, in a succession of many
generations, they would become as dark in complexion.”
To this instance we shall add one, which is mentioned
by a late writer, who, describing the African coast, and
the European settlements there, has the following passage.
“ I here are several other small Portuguese settlements,
and one of some note at Mitomba, a river in Sierra Leone.
I he people here called Portuguese are principally persons
bred from a mixture of the first Portuguese discoverers
with the natives, and now become, in their complexion, and
woolly quality of their hair, perfect negroes, retaining,
however, a smattering of the Portuguese language.”
These facts with respect to the colonists of the Euro¬
peans are of the highest importance in the present case,
and deserve a serious attention. For when we know to a
certainty from whom they are descended; when we know
that they were, at the time of their transplantation, of the
same colour as those from whom they severally sprung;
and when, on the other hand, we are credibly informed
that they changed it for the native colour of the place
which they now inhabit; the evidence in support of these
facts is as great as if a person, on the removal of two or
three families into another climate, had determined to as¬
certain the circumstance; as if he had gone with them
and watched their children ; as if he had communicated
Com¬
plexion.
192
COM
Com- his observations at his death to a successor ; as if his suc-
plexion. cess0r had prosecuted the plan ; and thus an uninterrupt-
ed chain of evidence had been kept up from their first re¬
moval to any determined period of succeeding time.
But though these facts seem sufficient of themselves to
confirm our opinion, they are not the only facts which can
be adduced in its support. It can be shown, that the mem¬
bers of the very same family, when divided from each other,
and removed into different countries, have not only chang¬
ed their family complexion, but that they have chang¬
ed it to as many different colours as they have gone into
different regions of the world. We cannot have, perhaps,
a more striking instance of this than in the Jews. Ihese
people are scattered over the face of the whole earth.
They have preserved themselves distinct from the rest of
the world by their religion ; and as they never intermarry
with any but those of their own sect, so they nave no mix¬
ture of blood in their veins that they should differ from
each other; and yet nothing is more true, than that the
English Jew is white, the Portuguese swarthy, tlie Arme¬
nian olive, and the Arabian copper: in short, that there
appear to be as many different species of Jews as there
are countries in which they reside. , .
The same principles with the above we find adopted
and further illustrated by Professor Zimmerman, in his
Geographical History of Man. He there proves, in the
most satisfactory manner, that the complexion of the hu¬
man species is uniformly correspondent with the aegree
of heat or cold to which they are habitually exposed. In
maintaining this position, he makes a very proper distinc¬
tion with regard to climate. V>y climates we are to under¬
stand, not simply or solely those distinguished by the geo-
graphical divisions of the globe, to the exclusion of what
he terms physical climate, or that which depends on the
changes produced in any given latitude by such adventi¬
tious circumstances as the lower or more elevated situa¬
tions of a country, its being encompassed by water or large
tracts of land, overspread or surrounded with forests, placed
in an extensive plain, or environed by lofty mountains.
Peculiarities of the like kind, as has been already noticed,
frequently prevent the physical climate from correspond¬
ing entirely with the geographical, as a country influenced
by them is often much warmer or colder than other re¬
gions placed under the same degree of latitude. 1 he in¬
fluence of these secondary or modifying circumstances has
been already adverted to, and need not be further enlaig-
ed upon : we shall here only observe, that the erroneous
reasoning of Lord Karnes on this subject seems to have
been owing to bis inattention to the difference above men¬
tioned. At Senegal, and in the adjacent lands, the ther¬
mometer is often at 112 or 110 degrees in the shade ; and
here we find the inhabitants jet black, with woolly hair.
The heat is equally great in Congo and Loango, and these
countries are inhabited by negroes only; whereas in Mo¬
rocco, to the north of these regions, and at the Cape ot
Good Hope, to the south, the heat is not so intense, nor
are the inhabitants of so deep a hue. Lord Karnes as^s,
wherefore are not the Abyssinians and the inhabitants of
Zaara of as dark a complexion as the Moors on the coast
of Guinea ? M. Zimmerman answers, that “ these coun¬
tries are much cooler. The desert is not only farther from
the equator, but the winds blowing over the Atlas Moun¬
tains, which, like the Alps, are covered with snow, and the
westerly wind coming from the sea, must considerably mi¬
tigate the heat. Nor is Abyssinia so warm as either Mo-
nomotapa or Guinea. The north-east winds from the side
of Persia and Arabia are cooled by their passage over the
Red Sea; the northern winds from Egypt lose much ot
their heat on the chain of the mountains that is extended
between the countries; the winds from the south and the
C O M
west are sea winds. Thus, the only quarter from which C
they can derive excessive heat is from the east, as the air
on this side must pass over tracts of heated lands.” For
a similar reason it is that negroes are not found either inM
Asia or South America under the equator. The situations
of these countries, our author observes, expose them to
sea-breezes and cooling winds from the continent. He
confirms this hypothesis by observing, that the moun¬
taineers of warm climates, as in Barbary and Ceylon, are
much fairer than the inhabitants of the valleys; that the
Saracens and Moors who conquered the north-east part of
Africa in 1700, from being brown, are become like the
negroes near the equator; that the Portuguese who set¬
tled at Senegal in 1400 became blacks ; and I udela the
Jew asserts, that his countrymen in Abyssinia acquired
the dark complexion of the original natives.
Upon the whole, colour and figure may be styled habits
of the body. Like other habits, they are created, not by
great and sudden impressions, but by continual and al¬
most imperceptible touches. Of habits both of mind and
body, nations are susceptible as well as individuals. They
are transmitted to offspring, and augmented by inherit¬
ance. Long in growing to maturity, national features,
like national manners, become fixed only after a succes¬
sion of ages. They become, however, fixed at last; and
if we can ascertain any effect produced by' a given state
of weather or of climate, it requires only repetition during
a sufficient length of time to augment and impress it with
a permanent character, ihe sanguine countenance will,
for this reason, be perpetual in the highest latitudes of the
temperate zone ; and we shall for ever find the swarthy, the
olive, the tawny, and the black, as we descend to the south.
All the foregoing observations have been well illustrated
and enforced by the Reverend Dr S. S. Smith, professor
of moral philosophy in the college of New Jersey, in his
Essay on the Causes of the Variety of Complexion and
Figure in the Human Species. See further on this subject
the article Man.
COMPLICATION in general denotes the blending, or
rather interweaving, of several different things. Ihus, a
person afflicted with several disorders at the same time,
is said to labour under a complication of disorders.
COMPLINE, the last division of the Roman Catholic
breviary. It was instituted to implore God’s protection
during the night, as the prime is for the day. It is recited
after sunset, and is so called because it completes the of¬
fice for the day.
COMPLUTENSIAN Bible. See Bible.
COMPONITE, in Mineralogy, one of the zeolite family,
in delicate transparent or semi-transparent crystals, which
occupy the drusy cavities of the anciently ejected masses
on Mount Vesuvius. Its form is an oblique four-sided
prism, truncated on its lateral edges, and terminated with
an extremely dihedral summit. It was first brought to
this country by Lord Compton in 1818.
COMPOSITE in general denotes something compound¬
ed, or made up of several others united together. Thus,
Composite Numbers are such as can be measured ex¬
actly by a number exceeding unity; as 6 by 2 or 3, or 10
by 5; so that 4 is the lowest composite number. Com¬
posite numbers, between themselves, are those which have
some common measure besides unity ; as 12 and 15, bo
of which are measured by 3. „ . ~
Composite Order, in Architecture, the last of the live
orders of columns, and so called because its capital is com¬
posed of those of the other columns, a quarter round being
borrow'ed from the Tuscan and Doric, a row o ea(Je*
from the Corinthian, and volutes from the Ionic. e
Architecture. . .
COMPOSITION, in a general sense, the uniting u
COM
,si. putting together several things, so as to form a whole or
compound.
Composition of Ideas, an act of the mind, by which it
unites several simple ideas into one conception or complex
idea.
Composition, in Grammar, the joining of two words
together; or prefixing a particle to another word, to aug¬
ment, diminish, or change its signification.
Composition, in Literature, the art of forming and ar¬
ranging sentiments, and clothing them with language suit¬
able to the nature of the subject or discourse.
Composition, in Logic, a method of reasoning, by
which we proceed from some general self-evident truth
to other particular and singular ones.
In disposing and putting together our thoughts, there
are two modes of proceeding equally within our choice ; for
we may arrange the truths relating to any part of know¬
ledge as they presented themselves to the mind in the
course of investigation, carrying on the series of proofs in
a reverse order, till at last they terminate in first princi¬
ples ; or, beginning with these principles, we may take the
contrary mode, and from them deduce, by a direct train of
reasoning, the several propositions wre want to establish.
This diversity in the manner of arranging our thoughts
gives rise to the twofold division of method established
among logicians. The first is the analytic method, or the
method of resolution, inasmuch as it traces things back to
their source, and resolves knowledge into its first and ori¬
ginal principles. And this stands in contradistinction to
the method of composition, or, as it is otherwise called,
the synthetic method; for here we proceed by gathering
together the several scattered parts of knowledge, and
combining them into one system, in such a manner as
that the understanding is enabled distinctly to follow truth
through all the different stages of gradation.
Composition, in Music, is the art of composing airs,
which, being either singly or in parts combined together,
and accompanied with appropriate harmony, form a com¬
plete piece of music.
Compositions have been generally divided into two ca¬
pital species ; the sacred and the secular.
Sacred compositions are usually written in strict ob¬
servance of the rules of harmony, in order to produce a
solemn and imposing effect; and to this end also all the
parts are conducted in studied and regular progressions.
Hence this species has been called rigorous or severe.
Albrechtsberger limits the severe style to compositions for
voices only, without instrumental accompaniments ; but he
remarks, at the same time, that they are frequently exe¬
cuted along with the organ and other instruments. The
severe style has been accurately observed by the greatest
ancient and modern writers, in fugues and other movements
ot a measured and uniform character; but the species
sacred must not be understood to comprehend the w hole
range ol compositions commonly so called, many of which
abound in free and fanciful melodies, with full and rich in¬
strumentation.
The secular species affords a wider range to genius, and
subsists in greater variety than the sacred. The composer
in this style is completely unfettered. He may exert all
his inventive powers to heighten the effect of his music.
He is tied down to no rules save those which are dictated
by taste and judgment, without which no composition can
give real satisfaction. The secular style is subdivided into
two kinds, theatrical and chamber music. The former is
that employed in operas; the latter includes solos, con¬
certos, airs, cappricios, fantasias, vocal and instrumental
pieces, and, in general, all sorts of composition which do not
lall under the sacred or severe style, or belong to the re¬
gular stage opera.
VOL. VII.
COM 193
An intimate acquaintance with musical science and the Composi-
capabilities of instruments, although essential as a foun- tion.
dation, will not of itself confer the power and ability to
compose. Conversant with mere mechanical rules, one is
no more qualified to understand the art, and operate in the
practice of composition, than to form himself for eloquence
upon the rules of grammar. The acquisition of such know¬
ledge is only the preparative for composition. “ The com¬
poser must find in his own genius,” as Rousseau observes,
the sources of beautiful melody, of sublime harmony, the
picturesque and the expressive in music; he must, in
short, be capable of perceiving and of forming the order
of the whole piece; to follow the relations-and aptitudes
of which it is susceptible in every kind; to inflame his
soul with the spirit and enthusiasm of the poet, instead of
being carried away with the mere sound of the words.”
Every composition is either vocal or instrumental, and
has a determined number of parts. In vocal music the
compass of the human voice must be particularly attended
to. In instrumental music the extension of the parts is re¬
gulated by the compass of the instruments, and the har¬
mony ought alw’ays to be subservient to the expression of
the melody.
ihe great aim in all kinds of musical composition is to
produce unity and variety, because without these two qua¬
lities no work can be essentially pleasing. Their employ¬
ment must be mutual, and, above all, judicious. A piece of
music having unity without variety is poor and monotonous;
but possessing variety without unity, it may be compared to
the dress of a harlequin, made up of patches and colours,
which, in point of effect, appears altogether ridiculous.
Every piece of music must, therefore, have at the same
time both unity and variety. It is then a genuine produc¬
tion of art, the result of well-directed talent, and a model
for artists. Variety is attained by avoiding monotony; unity
by connecting ideas in a free and perspicuous manner, at¬
tending to just proportion, and keeping clear of heteroge¬
neous construction.
It is easy to define what is termed unity in the other
fine arts, because they are chiefly addressed to the under¬
standing, which judges for itself. Thus, for instance, there
is no difficulty in observing the unities of time, place, and
action in dramatic poetry, in which there are fixed prin¬
ciples to guide an author with the utmost certainty. But
in music, which is an art in which the understanding can¬
not competently judge, and where every thing is dictated
and created by feeling only, it is impossible to indicate in
what variety, and particularly unity, in music actually con¬
sist. Clear perception, well-regulated taste, and genius,
are all essential to- enable a composer to attain facility
in composition. Incalculable benefit will be reaped by
carefully analyzing the best models of art, such as the
works of Handel, Jomelli, Cimarosa, Mozart, Haydn, and
Beethoven. The monotony of sounds, progressions, and
cadences, is relieved by pleasing and natural modulations,
which do not affect unity. A happy mixture of diapasons,
pianos, andfortes, different rhythms, long and short phrases,
and periods symmetrically distributed, together with notes
of different length, and well proportioned intervals, all
tend to produce variety ; whilst, on the other hand, what¬
ever is confused, either in modulation or ideas, is offensive
to feeling, and consequently detrimental to unity.
It has been observed that a multiplicity of different
ideas, crowded together in one piece, is reprehensible. It
is for that reason desirable that the composer should revert
to his primarily-divulged ideas, and continue to develope,
modify, and vary them. The best works of Haydn are con¬
structed on two or three leading ideas. That celebrated
composer used to say, “ When I found a happy idea, I
obliged myself to conduct it according to the rules of art.
194
COM
Composi- It is by neglecting this that so many composers have erred,
ticm Their ideas are no sooner given out than they are dis-
U mssed Thus their compositions leave no permanent im-
Compound.^siononthehearer;-1 . .
composer must be thoroughly versed in all kinds ot
counterpoint, and generally in the whole theoretical and
practical mechanism of his art. For such instruction we
refer to Music, and other articles relating to musical
science, in this work. In conclusion, we may remark, that
nothing conduces so beneficially in forming an accom¬
plished composer, as a careful and diligent study and piac-
tice of the fugue, which, as remarked by Reicha in ms
Traite de Melodic, will teach \um, first, to give every pos¬
sible variety to passages; secondly, to modulate with ac¬
curacy; thirdly, to develope his ideas in every beautiful
form; and, lastly, to preserve the strictest unity in his
compositions. It was by a profound conception of the
genius of the fugue that Handel and Haydn acquired
such distinguished proficiency in music; and it is to it
that we are consequently indebted for a great propoi tion
of the most sublime productions of these two illustrious
Composition, in Painting, includes the invention as
well as disposition of the figures, the choice of attitudes,
and so forth. Composition, therefore, consists of two
parts ; one of which finds out, by means of history, proper
objects for a picture; and the other disposes them to ad¬
vantage. See Painting.
Composition, in Printing, commonly termed composing,
the arranging of several types or letters in the composing
stick, in order to form a line; and of several lines placed
in order in the galley, to make a page; and of several
pages to make a form. See Printing. .
COMPOSTELLA, a large and well-built town of Spain,
the capital of Galicia, with an archbishop’s see and an uni¬
versity. It is situated on an eminence on the small river
Soria. The public squares, and the churches, particularly
the metropolitan church,.are very magnificent. It is pie-
tended that the body of St James was buried here ; a cir¬
cumstance which draws a great number of pilgrims from
most parts of Christendom. The poor pilgrims are receiv¬
ed into an hospital, built for that purpose, which stands
near the church; and round it are galleries of freestone,
supported by large pillars. From this town the military
order of St Jago, or St James, had its origin. A traffic is
carried on in wine, fruit, and fish ; and there are also nl^u"
factures of silk stockings, hats, paper, and leather, ihe
population amounts to about 12,000. It is distant about
270 miles N. W. of Madrid. Long. 8. 30. W. Lat. 42. o2. N.
Compostella, a town of Mexico, in the western pait
of the intendancy of Guadalaxara. Formerly tobacco was
cultivated in the adjacent country, though this has been
abandoned. The soil is barren, but there are several silver
mines in the neighbourhood. Long. 104. 40. \V. Lat. 21.
10. N. „ .
COMPOUND, in a general sense, an appellation given
to whatever is composed or made up of different things;
thus we say, a compound word, compound sound, com¬
pound taste, &c. Compound differs from complex, and
stands opposed to simple. . .
Compound Interest, called also interest upon interest, is
that which is reckoned not only upon the principal, but
upon the interest itself forborne, which thereby becomes a
sort of secondary principal.
Compound Motion, that motion which is effected by se¬
veral conspiring powers. Powers are said to conspiie h
the direction of the one be not quite opposite to that of
the other, as when the radius ot a circle is conceived to
revolve about a centre, and at the same time a point to
move straight along it.
C O M
Compound Numbers, those which may be divided by Cou
some other number besides unity, without leaving any re- hei
mainder; such as 18 and 20, the first being measured by
the numbers 2, 6, 9; and the second by the numbers 2,4, 01,1
5 10.
’ Compound Ratio is that which the product of the an¬
tecedents of two or more ratios has to the product of their
consequents. Thus 6 to 72 is in a ratio compounded of
2 to 6, and of 3 to 12.
COMPREHENSION, in English church history, de¬
notes a scheme proposed by Sir Orlando Bridgman in
1667-8, for relaxing the terms of conformity in behalf of
Protestant dissenters, and admitting them into the com¬
munion of the church. A bill for this purpose was drawn
up by Lord Chief Baron Hale, but disallowed. The at¬
tempt was renewed by lillotson and Stilhngfleet in 16/4,
and the terms were settled to the satisfaction of the non¬
conformists ; but the bishops refused their assent. This
scheme was likewise revived again immediately aftei the
Revolution, the king and queen expressing their desire of
an union; but the design failed after twro attempts, and
the act of toleration was passed.
Comprehension, in the philosophy ot the mind, is that
act of the mind by which it apprehends or knows any object
that is presented to it. To comprehend a thing is defined
by the schoolmen rem aliguam totam et totcditer cognoscere.
Comprehension, in Rhetoric, a trope or figure by which
the name of a whole is put for a part, or that of a pait for a
whole, or a definite number of any thing for an indefinite.
COMPRESSION, the act of pressing or squeezing some
matter together, so as to set its parts nearer to each other,
and make it occupy less space. Compression properly dif¬
fers from condensation, in as much as that the latter is
performed by the action of cold, but the former by some
external force.
COMPTON, Henry, Bishop of London, was the young¬
est son of Spencer, Earl of Northampton, and born in 1632.
After the restoration of Charles II. he became cornet of
a regiment of horse; but having soon afterwards quitted
the army for the church, he was made Bishop of Oxford
in 1674, and about a year thereafter translated to the see
of London. He was intrusted with the education of the
two princesses Mary and Anne, whom he also afterwards
married to the Princes of Orange and Denmark; and their
firmness in the Protestant religion was in a great measure
owing to their tutor, to whom, when popery began to pre¬
vail at court, his steadfastness was imputed as an unpar¬
donable crime. He was suspended from his ecclesiastical
function by James II., but was restored on the Piince o
Orange’s invasion. He and the Bishop of Bristol consti¬
tuted the majority for filling the vacant throne with a
kin": he performed the ceremony of the coronation, was
appointed one of the commissioners for revising the litur¬
gy, and laboured with much zeal to reconcile dissenters to
the church. Plis spirit of moderation made him unpopular
with the clergy, and in all probabihty checked his further
promotion. He died in the year 1/lb.
COMPULSOR, an officer under the Roman emperors,
dispatched from court into the provinces, to compel the
payment of taxes and imposts not paid within the time
prescribed. The word is formed of the verb compellere,
to oblige or constrain. These officers were charged vnti
so many exactions, under colour of their office, that Hono-
rius cashiered them by a law in 412. 'I he laws of the
Visigoths mention military compulsors, who were officers
among the Goths: their business was to oblige the tar y
soldiers to go into the fight, or to run to an attack, &c-
Cassian mentions a kind of monastic compulsors, whose
duty it was to declare the hours of canonical office, amt
take care that the monks went to church at these hours.
CON
Con p-
ga '
Coi i
COMPURGATOR, one who by oath justifies another
person’s innocence. Compurgators were introduced as
evidences in the jurisprudence of the middle ages. Their
number varied according to the importance of the sub¬
ject in dispute, or the nature of the crime with which the
person was charged.
COMTAH, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Berar, belonging to the Nagpoor rajah, 75 miles north¬
east from the city of Nagpoor. Long. 80. 49. E. Lat. 21.
35. N.
COMUS, in Mythology, the god of jollity or festivity.
There is reason to believe he was the same with the Cha-
mos of the Moabites, and also with Beel-Phegor, Baal-
Peor, Priapus, and Bacchus. He is represented under
the form of a young man with an inflamed countenance,
head inclined and crowned with flowers, air drowsy, and
leaning on a huntsman’s spear in his left hand, while he
held an inverted torch in his right. His statue was placed
at the chamber doors of new-married persons, with its pe¬
destal crowned with flowers.
CONANT, Dr John, a learned English divine, born
in 1608. He took his degrees at Exeter College, Oxford;
was by the parliament constituted one of the assembly of
divines, though he seldom or never sat with them ; and in
1657 was admitted vice-chancellor of the university. On
the restoration he was one of the commissioners, and as¬
sisted at the conferences in the Savoy, but was deprived
by the act of uniformity ; but after eight years he was con¬
firmed, and made archdeacon of Norwich, and prebendary
of Worcester. In 1686 he lost his sight, and died in 1693,
leaving a number of sermons, afterwards published in six
volumes.
CONATUS, a term defined by some to mean a quan¬
tity of motion, not capable of being expressed by any time
or length ;—as the conatus recedendi ab axe motus, is the
endeavour which a body, moved circularly, makes to re¬
cede, or fly off, from the centre or axis of its motion.
CONCA, Sebastian, called Cavalier, a celebrated his¬
torical and portrait painter, was born at Gaeta in 1679.
The churches and chapels of every part of Italy are enrich¬
ed with some of his compositions, of which he painted an
incredible number, as he lived to a very advanced age, and
never discontinued his labours. He was earnestly invited
by Philip V. of Spain to visit his court; but he could not
be prevailed on to leave Rome. He was at last so strong¬
ly pressed to go to Naples, that he undertook the journey,
and was received in that kingdom with all the respect and
honour due to his merit; and there he finished several
very noble designs, as also at Gaeta, his native city. While
he continued at Naples he received in the royal presence
a snulf-box of very great value, which was presented to
him in the king’s name by the Marquis of Tanucci, at that
time prime minister; and in the year 1757 the king was
pleased to ennoble him and all his descendants. At that
time he was seventy-eight years of age, and it is confi¬
dently said that he died in 1761, aged eighty-two, which
is very probable, though not positively certain. He under¬
stood perspective and architecture thoroughly, and added
to this a fine understanding of the chiaroscuro. His style
of composition is grand and elegant; his design very cor¬
rect; his disposition ingenious; his attitudes and expres¬
sion full of truth, nature, and variety"; and his colouring
excellent.
CONCAN, an extensive district of Southern India, in
the province of Bejapoor, situated between the 16th and
19th degrees of north latitude. On the east it is bounded
by the western Ghauts, and on the west by the Indian
Ocean. On the north it is separated from Callianee by
the small river Sawutry, and on the south it is bounded
by the British district of Canara. It may be estimated at
CON
195
about 220 miles in length, and 40 miles in breadth. This
country extends in a gradual slope from the mountains to
the sea, and is watered by numerous mountain streams,
but by no river of any magnitude. From Zyghur on the
sea coast to the Ambah Pass, there is a rich hilly country,
capable of cultivation, with a considerable number of in¬
habitants. Beyond this the mountains rise to a stupen¬
dous height, and are of difficult ascent. The products of
this country are the same as in Malabar; and the hemp
raised is said to be of a stronger quality than that raised
above the Ghauts; but it is singular that the seed sown
never reproduces the same quantity as before. The coast
has a very straight general outline, but is much broken into
small bays and harbours. This, with the uninterrupted
view along the shore, the elevated coast favourable to a
distant view, and the land and sea breezes which blow
alternately in the twenty-four hours, and which force the
vessels steering along the coast to be always within sight
of it, have rendered this country from time immemorial
the seat of piracy; and so formidable were the piratical
depredators in the eighteenth century, that all ships suf¬
fered which did not receive a pass from the chiefs of the pi¬
rates. The Great Mogul maintained a fleet for the express
purpose of checking them, and they were frequently also
attacked by" the Portuguese; but in the year 1756 they
were completely eradicated, their principal port and fort¬
ress, called Gheriah, being taken by a British squadron,
and their fleet destroyed. According to ancient traditions,
this country was inhabited by a tribe of savages, till they
were conquered by the Hindus, who gave it to a tribe of
Brahmins; and it was held by them until it was taken
possession of by the Mahommedan kings of Bejapoor. It
was conquered in the seventeenth century by Sevajee,
the founder of the Mahratta empire. Towards the close
of the same century Conajee Angria established a king¬
dom on this coast, extending 120 miles from Tamanah to
Bancoote, together with the inland country as far back as
the mountains. The dominion of this prince and his fa¬
mily continued for nearly seventy years, when it was put
an end to in the year 1756 by the allied British and Mah¬
ratta forces, the former under Admiral Watson and Colo¬
nel Clive; and the country, with the exception of Ban¬
coote, now called Fort Victoria, was restored to the Pesh-
wa. This country was definitively taken possession of by
the British in 1818, and, from its maritime position, will
prove a useful accession to their territories. (F. Bu¬
chanan, Travels in Mysore ; Orme, Military Transactions
in India; Prinsep, Narrative of Political and Military
Events, &c. &c. &c.)
CONCARNEAU, a city on a small island in the bay of
Foret, on the coast of the department of Finisterre, in
France. It has 2200 inhabitants, who are mostly em¬
ployed in the fishing for sardinias, of which they take in
good years 30,000 barrels, which are dispatched to Nantz,
Rochelle, and Bordeaux.
CONCATENATION, a term chiefly used in speaking
of the mutual dependence of second causes upon each
other.
CONCAVE, an appellation used in speaking of the in¬
ner surface of hollow bodies, but more especially of sphe¬
rical ones.
CONCENTRATION, in general, signifies the bring¬
ing things nearer a centre. Hence the particles of salt
in sea-water are said to be concentrated ; that is, brought
nearer each other, by evaporating the watery part.
CONCENTRIC, in Mathematics, something that has
the same centre with another. It stands in opposition to
eccentric.
CONCEPTION, in the philosophy of the mind. See
Metaphysics.
Concar-
neau
Concep¬
tion.
196
CON
CON
Conception Conception, in Physiology, denotes the first formation
of the embryo or foetus in the womb.
Conception, Immaculate, of the Holy Virgin, is a feast
established in honour of the holy virgin, particularly with
regard to her having been conceived and born immaculate,
or without original sin, and is held in the Roman Catholic
church on the 8th of December. The immaculate concep¬
tion is the great head of controversy between the Scotists
and Thomists, the former maintaining and the latter im¬
pugning it. _ .
Conception, a province, city, and bay of Chili, in
South America. The province is exceedingly fertile, and
clothed with luxuriant foliage. The best wine of the
country is made there; and a considerable tra.de .is car¬
ried on in the produce of the province. The city is situ¬
ated near the sea coast, and in its vicinity is one of the
finest harbours in Chili. rIhis place, and also the sur¬
rounding country, were formerly opulent and prosperous;
but, from the evils which usually follow in the train of
civil commotion, they have very much declined since the
commencement of the revolution, from the eligibility of
the place, however, as a commercial mart, and the ferti¬
lity of the adjacent soil, a few years’ repose will greatly
enhance its wealth and population. The principal exports
are timber, wheat, flour, and the fruits of the country.
Coal has been found near the bay, but it is not calculated
to answer all purposes; and the expense of transmitting
it to Coquimbo, and other important places in the repub¬
lic, is greater than even that of bringing the article from
England. A large and flourishing flour-mill has been
erected near the city, and promises to be of great advan¬
tage to it. It is distant 480 miles from Santiago. Con¬
ception is the name of various other places in South Ame¬
rica, but they are all of minor importance.
CONCERT, or Concerto, in Music, a number or com¬
pany of musicians, playing or singing the same piece of
music or song at the same time.
CONCERTATO intimates the piece of music to be
composed in such a manner, that all the parts may have
their recitatives, be it for two, three, four, or more voices
or instruments.
CONCERTO Grosso, the grand chorus of a concert,
or those places where all the several parts perform or play
together.
CONCHITES Marmor, a name given by the ancients
to a species of marble dug near Megara, and remarkable
for containing a great number of sea-shells and other ma¬
rine bodies imbedded in it.
CONCHOID, in Geometry, the name of a curve, given
to it by its inventor Nicomedes.
CONCHOLOGY. See Mollusca.
CONCHON, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Bengal, and district of Dinagepoor, sixty-three miles north
by east from Moorshedabad. Long. 88. 42. E. Lat. 26.
1. N.
CONCHYLIA, a general name for all petrified shells,
as limpets, cochleae, natili, conchae, lepades, and the like.
CONCIATOR, in the glass-making art, is, at the crys¬
tal-glass, what the founder is at the green-glass houses..
He is the person who weighs and proportions the salt on
ashes and sand, and works them with a strong fire till they
run into lumps and become white ; and if the metal be
too hard, and consequently brittle, he adds salt or ashes,
and if too soft, sand, still mixing them to a fit temper,
which is only known by the working.
CONCINNOUS Intervals, in Music, are such as are
fit for music, next to and in combination with concords ;
being neither very agreeable nor disagreeable in them¬
selves, but having a good effect, as by their opposition
they heighten the more essential principles of pleasure,
or by their mixture and combination with them, produce Co;
a variety necessary to our being better pleased. n*
Concinnous System, in Music. A system is said to be
concinnous, or divided concinnously, when its parts, con- Co1
sidered as simple intervals, are concinnous, and, besides, ^
placed in such an order between the extremes, that the
succession of sounds, from one extreme to the other, may
have an agreeable effect.
CONCLAMATIO, in Antiquity, a shout raised by
those present at burning the dead, before they set fire to
the funeral pile. The word was also applied to the signal
given to the Roman soldiers to decamp; and hence the
expression conclamare vasa, conclamare arma, was a signal
for battle. It was likewise used for the practice of calling
to a person deceased three times by his name ; and when
no reply was returned, they expressed his decease by say¬
ing, conclamatum est. The same term was afterwards ap¬
plied, on a similar analogy, to the cessation of the Roman
empire.
CONCLAVE, the place in which the cardinals of the
Roman Catholic church meet, and are shut up, for the
election of a pope.
The conclave is a range of small cells, each ten feet
square, made of wainscot, which are numbered, and drawn
for by lot. They stand in a line along the galleries and hall
of the Vatican, with a small space between each. Every
cell has the arms of the cardinal over it. The conclave
is not fixed to any one determinate place, for the consti¬
tutions of the church allow the cardinals to make choice
of such a place for the conclave as they think most con¬
venient; yet it is generally held in the Vatican.
The conclave is very strictly guarded by troops; nei¬
ther the cardinals nor any person shut up in the conclave
are spoken to, but at the hours allowed of, and then in
Italian or Latin. Even the provisions for the conclave are
examined, that no letters be conveyed by that means irom
the ministers of foreign powers, or other persons who may
have an interest in the election of the pontiff.
Conclave is also used for the assembly or meeting of
the cardinals shut up for the election of a pope.
CONCLUSION, in Logic, the consequences or judg¬
ment drawn from what was asserted in the premises or
previous iudgments in reasoning.
CONCORD, in Grammar, that part of construction
called syntax, in which the words of a sentence agree;
that is, in which nouns are put in the same gender, num¬
ber, and case, and verbs in the same number and person,
with nouns and pronouns. See Grammar.
Concord, in Music, the relation of two sounds which are
always agreeable to the ear, whether applied in succession
or consonance.
CONCORDANCE, a dictionary or index to the Bible,
in which all the leading words used in the course of the
inspired writings are ranged alphabetically, and the vari¬
ous places where they occur referred to, in order to assist
in finding out passages, and comparing the several signifi¬
cations of the same word.
Cardinal Hugo de St Charo is said to have employed
five hundred monks at the same time in compiling a Latin
concordance; besides which we have several other con¬
cordances in the same language ; one, in particular, calle
the concordance of England, compiled by J. Darlington,
of the order of predicants ; and another, more accurate, by
the Jesuit de Zamora.
R. Mordecai Nathan has furnished us with a Hebrew
concordance, first printed at Venice in 1523, containing
all the Hebrew roots branched into their various significa¬
tions, and under each all the places in scripture wheie it
occurs; but the best and most useful Hebrew concord¬
ance is that of Buxtorf, printed at Basil in 1632.
CON
it In 1754) Dr Taylor published a Hebrew concordance in
two volumes folio, adapted to the English Bible, and dis-
- p0sed after the manner of Buxtorf.
1 The Greek concordances are only for the New Testa-
^ ment. We have indeed one of Conr. Kircher’s on the Old,
but this is rather a concordantial dictionary than a con¬
cordance, containing all the Hebrew words in an alpha¬
betical order, and underneath the interpretations or senses
the LXX. give them, and in each interpretation all the
places where they occur in that version.
In 1718 Trommius published his Greek concordance for
the Septuagint at Amsterdam, in two volumes folio; and
Schmidius, improving on a similar work of H. Stephen, has
given an excellent Greek concordance for the New Testa¬
ment, the best edition of which is that of Leipsic, 1717.
Calasius, an Italian Cordelier, has given us concord¬
ances of the Hebrew, Latin, and Greek, in two columns;
the first, which is Hebrew, is that of R. Mordecai Nathan,
word for word, and according to the order of the books
and chapters; whilst in the other column is a Latin inter¬
pretation of each passage of scripture quoted by R. Mor¬
decai. This interpretation is Calasius’s own; but in the
margin he adds that of the LXX. and the Vulgate when
different from his. The work was printed at Rome in
1621, in 4 vols. folio.
We have several very copious concordances in English,
but one of the most esteemed is that in quarto by Alexan¬
der Cruden.
CONCORDAT, in the canon law, denotes a covenant
or agreement concerning some beneficiary matter, as a
resignation, permutation, promotion, or the like.
The council of Trent (sess. vi. de reform, cap. 4), speak¬
ing of concordats made without the authority and appro¬
bation of the pope, calls them concordias quae, taritum snos
obligant auctores, non successores. And the congregation
of cardinals who have explained this decree, declare also
that a concordat cannot be valid so as to bind successors,
unless confirmed by the pope.
Concordat is also used absolutely,To signify an agree¬
ment concluded between the Holy See and any sovereign
prince or state, for regulating the manner of nominating to
benefices and other matters connected with religion. Such
was the concordat concluded at Bologna in 1516, between
Leo X. and Francis I.; and, in modern times, that con¬
cluded between Napoleon Bonaparte, then emperor of
France, and the Holy See.
The concordat serves instead of the pragmatic sanction,
which has been abrogated; or rather, it is the pragmatic
sanction softened and reformed.
CONCORDIA, a pagan divinity among the Romans,
who had a temple on the declivity of the Capitol; ano¬
ther in the Portico of Livia; and a third on Mount Pala¬
tine, built of brass by Cn. Flavius, on account of a vow
made for reconciling the senate and people- She was re¬
presented with a cup in her right hand ; while in her left
she held sometimes a sceptre, and sometimes a cornucopia.
Her sjunbols were two hands joined, and two serpents twist¬
ing about a caduceus. She was addressed in order to pro¬
mote peace and union in the families and citizens.
CONCRETE, in the school philosophy, an assemblage
or compound.
CONCRETION, the uniting several small particles of
a natural body into sensible masses or concretes, by which
it becomes figured and determined in a certain way, and
is endued with certain properties.
Concretion is also the act by which soft bodies are
rendered hard ; or an insensible motion of the particles of
a fluid or soft body, by which they come to a consistence.
It is indifferently used for induration, condensation, con¬
gelation, and coagulation.
CON
CONCUBINAGE sometimes expresses a criminal or
prohibited commerce between the two sexes; in which
sense it comprehends adultery, incest, and simple forni¬
cation. '
In its more restrained sense, concubinage is used to
signify the state of a man and woman cohabiting together
as married persons, without having passed through the
ceremony of marriage.
Concubinage w^as anciently tolerated. The Roman laiv
calls it an allowed custom, licita consuetude. When this
expression occurs in the constitutions of the Christian em¬
perors, it signifies what we now sometimes call a marriage
in conscience.
The concubinage tolerated among the Romans in the
time of the republic and of the heathen emperors, was
that between persons not capable of contracting marriage
together; nor did they even refuse to let inheritances de¬
scend to children which sprung from such a tolerated co-
habitance. Concubinage between such persons they look¬
ed on as a kind of marriage, and even allowed it several
privileges; but then this concubinage was confined to a
single person, and was of perpetual obligation as much as
marriage itself. Flottoman observes, that the Roman laws
had allowed concubinage long before Julius Caesar made
the law by which ever}' one was allowed to marry as many
wives as he pleased. The emperor Valentinian, Socrates
tells us, allowed every man two.
Concubinage is also used to signify a marriage per¬
formed with less solemnity than the formal marriage ; or
a marriage with a woman of inferior condition, and to
whom the husband does not convey his rank or quality.
Cujas observes, that the ancient laws allowed a man to
espouse, under the title of concubine, certain persons, who
were esteemed as unequal to him, on account of the wrant
of some qualities requisite to sustain the full honour of
marriage; and he adds, that though concubinage was be¬
neath marriage, both as to dignity and civil effects, yet was
concubine a reputable title, and very different from that
of mistress among us. The commerce was esteemed so
lawful, that the concubine might be accused of adultery
in the same manner as a w ife.
This kind of concubinage is still in use in some coun¬
tries, particularly in Germany, under the title of a half
marriage, or marriage with the left hand; alluding to the
manner of its being contracted, namely, by the man giving
the wmman his left hand instead of the right. This is a
real marriage, though without solemnity; and the parties
are both bound for ever, though the woman be thus ex¬
cluded from the common rights of a wife, for want of qua¬
lity or fortune.
The children of concubines were not reputed either
legitimate or bastards, but natural children, and were ca¬
pable only of donations. They were deemed to retain the
low rank of the mother; and were on this ground not qua¬
lified for inheriting the effects of the father.
CONCUBINE, a woman whom a person takes to cohabit
with him, in the manner and under the character of a wife,
without being authorized to do so by a legal marriage.
Concubine is also used for a real, legitimate, and only
wife, distinguished by no other circumstance but a dispa¬
rity of birth or condition between her and the husband.
Du Cange observes, that one may gather from several
passages in the epistles of the popes, that they anciently
allowed of such concubines. The seventeenth canon of
the first council of Toledo declares, that he who with a
faithful wife keeps a concubine, is excommunicated; but
that if the concubine served him as a wife, so that he had
only one woman, under the title of concubine, he should
not be rejected from communion ; which shows that there
were legitimate wives under the title of concubines.
197
Concubi¬
nage
198
Conda-
CON
In effect, the Roman laws did not allow a man to es¬
pouse whom he pleased; there was required a kind of
parity, or proportion, between the conditions of the con¬
tracting parties; but a woman of inferior condition, who
could not be espoused as a wife, might be kept as a con¬
cubine ; and the laws allowed of it, provided the man had
no other wife.
It is certain the patriarchs had a great number of wives,
and that these did not all hold the same rank ; some being
subaltern to the principal wife, or what we would now call
concubines or half wives. The Romans prohibited a plu¬
rality of concubines, and only had regard to the children
issuing from a single concubine, because she might become
a legitimate wife. Solomon had seven hundred wives and
three hundred concubines ; the emperor ot China has some¬
times two or three thousand concubines in his palace. Q.
Curtius observes, that Darius was followed in his army by-
three hundred and sixty-five concubines, all in the equi¬
page of queens. .
CONDAMINE, Charles Marie de la, a practical
geographer and cultivator of science in general, son of
Charles de la Condamine, a receiver-general ot finances,
and Margaret Louise de Chources, was born the 28th ot
January 1701.
His early education was by no means neglecteu, a.-
though he complains, in a manuscript memoir which he
left respecting the progress of his studies, and the de¬
velopment of his faculties, that he was made to learn, as
boys frequently are, too much by rote, without under¬
standing the complete sense and bearing ot the words
which he I'epeated. It is, however, by no means certain
that any great loss of time is ultimately incurred by this
practice ; for in fact the memory is much strengthened by
the constant habit of getting by heart, and it does not
appear that the judgment is at all impaired by it. He
afterwards pursued his studies under Father Brisson, and
in 1717 supported a thesis on the Cartesian philosophy,
which the Jesuits were then beginning to introduce into
their seminaries, while it was elsewhere giving way to the
Newtonian. In 1719, after he had left college, he entei-
ed the army, and accompanied his uncle, the Chevalier
de Chources, to the siege of Rosas, as a volunteer; and
both on this and other occasions he exhibited sufficient
proofs of the contempt of danger and the spirit of enter¬
prise which were so much required in those pursuits
that afterwards occupied a considerable portion of his
life. Notwithstanding the dissipations in which military
men are very commonly involved, he was moderate in the
pursuit of pleasure ; and he used to consider the distoi-
tion which the small-pox had left in his features as hav¬
ing afforded him some compensation for the injury done
to his vanity, by diminishing the temptations to which his
sensibility might otherwise have exposed him.
Having no prospect of speedy advancement in the army,
and having suffered considerably in his fortune fiom a par¬
ticipation in the extravagant speculations of Law, he quit¬
ted the service, in hopes of finding a more advantageous
employment in science. He distinguished himself as an
active member of a society of arts, then recently estab¬
lished at Paris by the Count de Clermont; and, in 1/30,
he obtained a situation in the Academy of Sciences, as
adjunct of the class of chemistry, having previously pic-
sented to the academy a memoir on the mathematical and
mechanical properties of the lathe, which obtained him
considerable credit. Soon afterwards he embarked in the
squadron of Duguay I rouin, and made a voyage in dif¬
ferent parts of the Mediterranean ; he passed several
months at Constantinople, and visited the plain of Iroy,
and many other parts of the Levant; after his letinn he
gave an account of his tour to the academy ; and a servant,
CON
who had accompanied him, published also a separate jour- Co:
nal of his own. ^
Chemistry, as it was cultivated at that period, afforded w'|
but little scope for the employment of an active mind; and
La Condamine, after the publication of one chemical me¬
moir only, was removed from the class of chemists in the
academy to that of astronomers. In this capacity he was
the first to propose the measurement of a degree of lati¬
tude in the neighbourhood of the equator; and he seems
to have felt the importance of the undertaking, not only
for the purpose of deciding a great question in science,
but also for that of attracting the attention of the public,
and establishing the system of gravitation in France by a
grand operation, executed, with great labour and at a
great distance, by Frenchmen only. His ideas were rea¬
dily seconded by Maurepas, then prime minister ; and he
was appointed by the academy, together with Bouguer
and Godin, for carrying the proposal into effect.
In this expedition he was absent from his country for
nearly ten years, from 1735 to 1745; and he had to com-
bat with difficulties of every kind. A distant voyage; an
uncivilized and sometimes uninhabited countiy; imprac¬
ticable roads; want of regular remittances ; the necessity
of disposing of valuable articles disadvantageously, in or¬
der to procure a temporary supply; a malicious prosecu¬
tion upon the pretence of a contraband traffic,_ founded
only on this circumstance ; and the still more violent at¬
tacks of a fanatical mob, who murdered the surgeon of
the expedition: all these things, to say nothing of the
awful appearance of an eruption of Cotopaxi, and the no
less formidable operations of the hostile squadron of Lord
Anson, required nothing less than the dauntless spit it and
energy of character which he possessed, to bear him up
against them ; and at last the little jealousies, which will
often arise among persons of science employed in the
same pursuits, embarrassed and embittered the conclusion
of his enterprise. The activity and fluency of La Conda¬
mine made the public disposed to imagine that Bouguer
had been only his humble attendant; and Bouguer was
too conscious of his ow*n superiority as a mathematician to
bear this injustice with patience. He complained, but the
laugh was against him ; and he revenged himself by refus¬
ing all communication in the statement of the results of the
operations ; so that each observer gave ultimately a sepa¬
rate account of his own measurements and calculations.
In consequence of all the fatigues and vicissitudes to
which La Condamine had been exposed, he became ex¬
tremely deaf, and partially paralytic, after his return, but
the powrers of his mind appear to have remained unim-
1C In 1748 he was elected a foreign member of the Royal
Society of London ; and he afterwards exerted himself
with great zeal and success in promoting, among his coun¬
trymen, the general introduction ot the variolous inocula¬
tion, which had long been practised in England, and m
some other parts of Europe. In 1757 he took a journey
to Italy, and spent a considerable time at Rome, partly
with a viewr to the improvement of his health, and to the
observation of a variety of facts connected with Ins scien¬
tific pursuits ; but principally, perhaps, in order to obtain
a dispensation from the pope for a marriage with his niece,
who seems to have had a high respect for his talents, and
even a sincere attachment to his person, notwithstanding
the disparity of their ages, and the caprices of a temper
not a little impatient and irritable. He became, m i/w,
one of the forty members of the French Academy, and
contributed considerably to an improved edition of their
dictionary. In 1763 he paid a short visit to England,
which was rendered less agreeable to him on account o
the difficulty that he found in obtaining legal redress lor
(iit
Coi
mi
CON
some slight injury which he had received: after his re¬
turn, the insensibility of his limbs increased, and he was
Lj obliged to relinquish all his pursuits of science, retaining
only the amusement of making some light attempts in
poetry, and occasionally inserting in the periodical works
of the day a few tales in verse, besides a poetical transla¬
tion of a part of Virgil’s Eneid; although it seems natural
to suppose that the exercise of the inventive fancy of a
poet would tend to exhaust the debilitated faculties even
still more than the methodical investigation of mathema¬
tical or physical subjects.
1. The first of Mr de la Condamine’s publications was
a Memoir on the Conic Sections, M. Ac. Par. 1731, p. 240.
It contains a comparison of the equations of the various
parallel sections of a given cone with that of the surface
of the cone itself; but it is not remarkably distinguished
either for clearness of conception or for accuracy of ex¬
pression.
2. On Metallic Vegetation, M. Ac. Par. 1731, p. 466, H.
P. 31. The experiments described in this paper relate to
the precipitation of nitrate of silver, or other metallic so¬
lutions, placed upon a- flat surface of glass or agate, by
means of an iron nail; and the only remarkable circum¬
stance attending them is the extension of the ramifica¬
tions to parts at a considerable distance from the nail
which supplies the iron in the place of the silver deposit¬
ed, exhibiting a faint resemblance of the astonishing trans¬
fers and interchanges which have been more lately dis¬
covered in electro-chemical experiments.
3. Observations made in the Levant, M. Ac. Par. 1732,
p. 295; relating principally to navigation, to geography, and
to natural history. The author had agreed to undertake an
expedition into the interior of Africa; but his arrangements
were interrupted for want of the expected co-operation.
4. Account of an Instrument for determining a Parallel
Circle on the Earth's Surface, M. Ac. Par. 1733, p. 294,
H. P. 53; a telescope fixed perpendicularly on an axis
parallel to that of the earth, and consequently capable
of being directed only to objects situated in the parallel
circle required, proper allowance being made for the ef¬
fects of refraction.
5. Description of a Variation Compass, M. Ac. Par. 1733,
p. 446. A wire is fixed in the axis of the card, and a gra¬
duated ring of paper round its circumference, half above
and half below, on which the shadow of the wire is to fall
at sunset.
6. Two Memoirs on the Lathe, M. Ac. Par. 1734, p.
216, 295. A description of the rosette and of other parts
of the figure lathe, with a mathematical determination of
the epicycloids, conchoids, and other curves, which are
traced by their combination. The apparatus is represent¬
ed among the machines approved by the academy, vol. v.
p. 83, 89.
7. A Letter relating to the Varicdion Compass, M. Ac.
Par. 1734, p. 597; containing testimonials in its favour,
with a mode of observing, by looking directly at the wire,
and at the setting sun when his light is too faint to cast
a shadow.
8. On the Determination of small Differences of Longi¬
tude, M. Ac. Par. 1735. p. 1 ; a discussion of the kinds
of signals best adapted for contemporaneous observations
at a distance; a subject much more difficult at that time
than at present, when the art of pyrotechny has been ear¬
ned to so high a degree of perfection, especially since the
late singular invention of a rocket with a parachute, de¬
scending slowly, and exhibiting successive explosions.
9. Measurement of the Length of the Pendulum at St
Domingo, M. Ac. Par. 1735, p. 529. The academicians
were detained at St Domingo more than three months,
and they took advantage of the delay in order to ascer-
C O N
tain the length of the pendulum in that latitude. Mr de
la Gondamine employed a ball of brass, suspended by a
thread of the aloe, and attached to it by means of a piece of
sticking plaster ; the pendulum making a vibration in about
two seconds, he observed in how many vibrations a second
was lost or gained. The length thus determined was thir¬
ty-six French inches seven and a quarter lines, or 39-0125
English inches. Messrs Godin and Bouguer made it one
twelfth of a line longer, or 39-020 ; and a calculation from
the best modern observations for the latitude, which was
18° 27', gives us 39-029. The thread was fixed by a clip,
and it was probably very flexible, since its rigidity must
necessarily have tended to increase the curvature of the
path of the ball, and to give a measure somewhat too long.
See the article Cohesion.
10. Account of the Quinquina Tree, M. Ac. Par. 1738,
p. 226. Jussieu, who was the botanist of the expedition,
had pointed out to La Condamine a number of circum¬
stances respecting the cinchona, which required investi¬
gation ; and he was enabled to illustrate them in a satis¬
factory manner, from having to pass through Loxa in the
course of his investigations. It appears that the bark
known under the name of quina-quina before the disco¬
very of the cinchona, was the cascarilla; and these two
articles have sometimes been confounded, though very
different in their nature and effects.
11. Abstract of a Journey through a part of South Ame¬
rica, M. Ac. Par. 1/45, p. 391, H. 63. After the comple¬
tion of the operations at Quito, Mr de la Condamine de¬
termined to take the course of the river Maranon for his
return towards Cayenne; and in the course of this route,
of more than 2000 miles, which he performed partly bv
land, but principally on a raft, he had an opportunity of
making a multitude of interesting observations of various
kinds. He found in several places a singular agreement of
traditions respecting the former existence of a republic of
women only, in the neighbourhood of the river which has
received its most usual denomination from them. He
observed the effect of the tides at Pauxis, a point 600
miles from the mouth of the river, but not much elevated
above it; and he was informed that there were always a
number of alternations at high and low water at the same
time between this point and the mouth of the river; in
some places, where the water was shallow, he encountered
the tide rising in the form of a bore, called by the French
a burre or mascaret, and by the inhabitants there a poro-
roca, occupying but one or two minutes in its ascent, and
frequently producing accidents to boats unprepared for its
reception. After his arrival at Para, he measured the
length of the pendulum there, and found that the force
of gravitation was about greater than at the summit
of Pichincha. fie next proceeded to Cayenne, and was
obliged, on account of the war, to return to Europe by a
Dutch ship, which sailed from Surinam.
12. Abstract of the Geographical Operations performed
in South America, M. Ac. Par. 1746, p. 618. The length
of a degree at the equator appears, from these calcula¬
tions, to be 56,750 toises. Bouguer, who employs the
same determination of the arc, but a different series of
trigonometrical observations, makes it 56,753 ; and Godin,
on the other hand, somewhat less than Condamine. This
is more than 300 toises less than the degree measured in
France, and almost 700 less than the degree in Lapland ;
and it gives for the earth’s ellipticity, by comparison with
the former, and with the latter The termina¬
tions of the base were marked by pyramids, and the length
of the toise was identified by a bar of metal let into a tab¬
let of marble, with an appropriate inscription.
13. Mesure des Trois premiers Degres du Meridian, 4.
Par. 1751, with a complete journal of the operations.
199
Conda-
mine.
 V—
200
Con da-
mine.
CON
14. A Proposal for an Invariable Standard of Measures,
M. Ac. Par. 1747, p. 489, H. P. 82. Many arguments are
advanced in favour of the uniformity of measures in all
countries ; and the length of the pendulum at the equator
is considered as the most proper for universal adoption as
the fundamental unit.
15. Account of an Elastic Resin, M. Ac. Par. 1751, p.
319, H. P. 17 ; a description of several trees affording the
cahuchu,or caoutchouc, especially of the Hheve, or syringe
trees, chiefly from Mr Fresneau’s communications.
16. A History of the Variolous Inoculation, M. Ac. Par.
1754, p. 615 ; a candid, clear, and judicious statement
of the advantages of the inoculated above the natural
small-pox, in a popular and sometimes even playful style,
calculated to meet the prejudices of the day, and the va¬
rious superstitious and interested motives which retarded
the practice in France, while it had become universally
prevalent in England ; although, in more recent times, the
public spirit in this country appears to be somewhat less
favourably disposed to the admission of beneficial innova¬
tions ; for scarcely in any part of the world has vaccina¬
tion become less universal than it is at this time in Great
Britain.
17. Abstract of a Journey in Italy, M. Ac. Par. 17o/' , p.
336, H. P. 6. From an examination of several ancient
standards, and from a comparison of the remains of build¬
ings supposed to have occupied a certain round number
of feet, Mr de la Condamine concludes that the old Ro¬
man foot was equal to 130-9 French lines; that is, to 969
thousandths of an English foot. Mr Folkes had before
made it 966 ; but Mr Raper has shown, in the Philosophi¬
cal Transactions for 1760, by a very careful comparison
of a multitude of documents, that, before the reign of
Titus, it somewhat exceeded 970, and under Severus and
Diocletian'it was less than 965 ; the original standard in
the temple of Juno Moneta having probably been destroyed
by fire. Mr de la Condamine also viewed the races on the
Corso with an eye equally mathematical, and observed that
the Barbary horses ran at the rate of about forty English
feet in a second ; but his correspondents in England fur¬
nished him with unexceptionable evidence that the horse
Childers ran the four mile course at Newmarket at the rate
of very nearly fifty English feet in a second, while no other
horse exceeded forty-eight; and he observes that, in this
instance, truth far outruns probability; a remark which has
been somewhat misrepresented in this country, and con¬
verted, by the lovers of the amusements of the turf, into
a laugh against the lovers of the amusements of science;
the story being told as if the French mathematicians had
demonstrated the absolute maximum of a horse’s utmost
possible speed, and, a bet having been made on the occa¬
sion, an English horse had been found that actually ex¬
ceeded the maximum. Our author also notices the awk¬
ward effect of the Roman mode of beginning the day at
sunset, which renders it necessary to make continual al¬
terations in the clocks, directions being given in the alma¬
nacks for putting them forwards or backwards a quarter
of an hour at a time; and the precise time of noon hap¬
pening in summer at sixteen o’clock, and in winter not till
nineteen. He observes that a single signal, properly
placed on the Apennines, would be visible at once near
Trieste and near Monaco, giving a difference of longitude
of not less than five degrees.
18,19. On Inoculation, M. Ac. Par. 1758, p. 439; 1765,
p. 505.
20, 21. Mr de la Condamine published also a series of
Lettres sur les Pictionnaires, and another of Lettres sur
V Education.
In 1768 his name is mentioned as having excited the
attention of the members of the academy by a relation of
CON
Spallanzani’s experiments on the reproduction of the heads ()|
of snails, which several of them repeated with success. f
In fact, there was scarcely any one of the sciences to
which he did not occasionally render some service, al-^ l
though he wanted patience and perseverance to make any *v
very important discoveries or improvements by his indivi-
dual exertions only. But his knowledge was universal;
he understood and wrote all languages; he correspond¬
ed with men of cel’ebrity in all countries; he published
upon all subjects; he contributed to all the literary and
scientific journals of the day; he answered all criticisms,
and he accepted all compliments, even from persons
whom he despised; for he delighted in the parade of
a pre-eminent reputation. His style was simple and natu¬
ral, somewhat negligent, but still elegant and lively; his
manner was animated and somewhat singular ; his temper !
was warm and restless ; he sighed for repose, and was in¬
capable of enjoying it; thinking nothing that occurred in- j
different to him, and allowing none about him to be idle.
He obtained the rank of chevalier in several orders, and
was a member of several foreign academies; he had also |
the appointment of honorary secretary to the Duke of Or¬
leans. At the age of sixty-eight he addressed to his wife
an account of his education, and of the earlier progress of
his mental faculties, as a practical illustration of his opi¬
nions respecting the cultivation of the mind. The me¬
moir was not published ; but it is perhaps unfortunate for
mankind that men of celebrity seldom find a sufficient
motive for communicating candidly to the world the re¬
sults of such a self-examination. A few years before his
death he printed a memorial in behalf of Mr Godin, who
had been reduced to indigent circumstances ; and he had
the pleasure of obtaining for him the assistance which he
required. He suffered occasionally from a hernia, and hav¬
ing read of the marvellous cures which some empiric pro¬
fessed to have performed by the application of a caustic, he
determined to make the experiment on himself, without
the knowledge of his family, and without much hope of
success; but he fell a victim to the courage or the curi¬
osity that prompted him to submit to the operation. In
the course of the six weeks that he survived, he was still
employed in writing or dictating a memoir containing
answers to some questions respecting the manners of the
Americans. Fie died on the 4th February 1774, leaving
many of his books and instruments by will to the Acade¬
my of Sciences. {Hist. Acad. Par. 1774, p. 85.) (l. l.)
COND APILLY, one of the Northern Circars of India,
situated between the 16th and 17th degrees of north lati¬
tude. This district, and that of Ellore, may be estimated
to contain an area of 3400 miles, exclusive of the moun¬
tainous region towards the west, the greater part of which
is well cultivated. The two districts occupy the whole
space between the rivers Krishna and Godavery, the dis¬
tricts of Masulipatam towards the sea, the inland province
of Commim on the west, and the Lake of Colair, chiefly
formed by the overflowing of these two rivers. The dia¬
mond rivers in this district are so unproductive that they
have not been worked for many years. Besides the
Krishna, which is its south-west boundary, it is watered by
several other smaller streams ; and is on the whole toler¬
ably well cultivated, though it is inferior to Tanjore and
the most flourishing districts of Bengal. The principal
towns are Condapilly, Reddygoodum, and Tontraveloor.
Condapilly, a town of Flindustan, in the Northern
Circars, and capital of the above district. It is situated
on a hill; and being fortified in the Indian style, was for¬
merly a place of considerable strength. But the fortifica¬
tions have of late been much neglected, and are now gone
to decay. This place was first conquered from the Hin¬
du princes about the year 1471, by the Bhamenee sove
.CON
CON
201
:om r
[Jon
reigns of the Deccan ; and it came into the possession of
the British in 1765. The travelling distance from Hy¬
derabad is 14:2 miles, from Madras 306, from Nagpoor
370, and from Seringapatam 444 miles. Long. 80. 23. E.
Lat. 16. 39. N.
CONDAVIR, a town of Hindustan, in the Northern
Circars, district of Guntoor, situated on a mountain, fif¬
teen miles west of Guntoor. Long. 80. 5. E. Lat. 16.10. N.
CONDE, Louis de Bourbon, Prince of, was born at
Paris on the 8th of September 1621. He was styled Duke
d’Enghien, till he succeeded to the title of Prince of
Conde by his father’s death in the year 1646. As he
was of a tender and delicate constitution, the prince sent
him to the castle of Montrond, in Bern', that he might
breathe a purer and more salutary air. Here he was edu¬
cated in his infancy by some experienced and prudent
Citizens’ wives. But when he was of a proper age, the
prince took upon himself the task of governor, and ap¬
pointed as his assistant M. de la Boussieres, a private
gentleman, and a man of honour, fidelity, and good na¬
ture, who made it a rule to observe inviolably the orders
that were given him. Two Jesuits distinguished for their
genius and knowledge were also given him as preceptors.
With these attendants the Duke d’Enghien went to
settle at Bourges, where he frequented the college of Je¬
suits and, besides the ordinary studies, was taught ancient
and modern history, mathematics, geography, declamation,
and also riding and dancing, in which last he soon excell¬
ed. He made so great progress in his studies, that before
the age of thirteen he defended in public some questions
in philosophy with infinite applause. On his return from
Montrond, he received as his tutor M. de Merilie, a man
deeply versed in the knowledge of ancient and modern
laws, of the holy scriptures, and of the mathematics. Under
the direction of this eminent person the duke went through
a new course with prodigious success, acquiring a critical
taste in the arts and sciences, which he retained during
his whole life. His chief inclination, however, lay towards
the military art; and at the age of eighteen he obtained
permission to make his first campaign as a volunteer in the
army commanded by M. de la Meilleraye. This campaign
proved unfortunate ; and the Duke d’Enghien was only a
witness of the marshal’s imprudence and disgrace. Never¬
theless, in this campaign he laid the foundation of that
renown which made him afterwards be considered as the
greatest general of his age.
On his return to Paris, the duke waited upon Cardinal
Richelieu at Ruel. The minister was so pleased with his
conversation, that he soon afterwards made proposals of an
alliance with the Prince of Conde, by marrying the Duke
d’Enghien to Claire Clemence de Maille Breze, the car¬
dinal’s niece. The duke consented to this match in obe¬
dience to his father; but the force he put upon himself
by yielding to it was so great, that he fell dangerously ill,
and it was long before he recovered.
The duke served two more campaigns as a volunteer;
one under the Marshal de la Meilleraye, and the other in
the army of Louis XIII. which conquered Roussillon. In
1643, at the age of twenty-two, he obtained from the king,
at the persuasion of Cardinal Mazarin, the command of
the army destined to cover Champagne and Picardy;
which command was confirmed to him after the king’s
death by the queen regent, Anne of Austria, to whose in¬
terest he was strongly devoted. In this situation, although
he had never been present at any battle, he soon gave
such a specimen of his abilities as crowned him with glory.
The Spaniards, who threatened France with an invasion,
were defeated by him at Rocroi on 19th May 1643, and
their hitherto invincible infantry destroyed; a signal vic¬
tory, which made him from that time be considered as the
VOL. VII.
guardian genius of his country. He next formed the pro¬
ject of besieging Thionville, and proposed it to the coun¬
cil of regency. I he latter consented with fear and dis¬
trust ; but the duke carried it into execution with such
skill, activity, and courage, that he became the object of
general admiration. In two months time Thionville sur¬
rendered. At length, having covered Alsace and Lorrain
from the Imperialists, he returned to Paris, where he ob¬
tained the government of Champagne, and that of the city
of Stenai.
The three following years were little more than a series
of military operations. The battles of Fribourg, in which
the Duke d’Enghien triumphed over Field Marshal Count
de Mercy, the greatest general in all Germany ; the tak¬
ing of Philipsbourg, and a great number of other places,
which rendered him master of the Palatinate, and of the
whole course of the Rhine ; the victory of Nordlingen, by
which he revenged the Viscount de Turenne’s defeat at
Mariendal; the siege and conquest of Dunkirk; the suc¬
cess of his arms in Catalonia, where, though he was forced
to raise the siege of Lerida, he kept the Spaniards in awe,
and cut to pieces their rear-guard ; these are the principal
events which distinguish the campaigns of 1644, 1645,
and 1646.
The victories of the Duke d’Enghien, his great reputa¬
tion, and the esteem with which the people regarded him,
began now to give umbrage to Mazarin. The cardinal’s
dislike to him appeared on the death of the Duke de Breze,
admiral of France. The Prince of Conde earnestly de¬
manded for his sen the Duke de Breze’s places; but Ma¬
zarin, afraid of increasing the wealth and power of a prince
whom his victories and the confidence of the people and
the army had already rendered too formidable to him,
evaded his request, by persuading the queen to take the
admiralty to herself. On the death of his father, the
minister’s dislike to the young Prince of Conde became
still more apparent. By the minister’s persuasion he had
accepted of the command of the army in Catalonia; but,
on his arrival at Barcelona, he found neither troops, mo¬
ney, artillery, provisions, nor ammunition. Enraged at
this deception, he vented his resentment in bitter com¬
plaints and severe animadversions; but by the resources
which he found in his own genius, the prince added new
lustre to his glory.
The campaign of 1648 was as glorious to Conde as those
which preceded it had been. To disconcert the projects
of the Archduke Leopold, the prince resolved to attack
him even in the heart of the Low Countries ; and, in spite
of the difficulties which he had to surmount, he besieged
the important city of Ypres, and took it in sight of the
enemy’s forces.
Notwithstanding this success, Conde saw himself on the
point of experiencing the greatest reverse of fortune. His
army was a prey to scarcity, to nakedness, contagious dis¬
tempers, and desertion. For eight months it had received
no supply from the minister except half a muster. Every
thing was furnished by the prince himself, who expended
what money he had, and borrowed more, in order to sup¬
ply his ti’oops. When it was represented to him that he
was in danger of ruining himself by such an enormous ex¬
pense, he replied, that since he every day ventured his life
for the service of his country, he could very well sacrifice
his fortune to it. Let but the government exist, added he,
and I shall want for nothing.
The French army having been reinforced by four thou¬
sand of the troops of Weimar, Conde attacked the Spa¬
niards, who were advantageously encamped near Lens,
and gained a complete victory over them. He afterwards
besieged Fumes, the garrison of which, consisting of five
hundred men, surrendered themselves prisoners of war.
CoihM.
202 CON
Conde. But the prince was wounded in the trenches there by a
''—-v'w' musket-shot, which struck him above the right hip; and
the contusion proved so great that he was forced to sub¬
mit to several incisions.
The French court, animated with the victory at Lens,
thought this a proper time to take vengeance on the fac¬
tions which for some time had violently agitated the king¬
dom ; and accordingly imprisoned Broussel and Blanc-
menil, two of the principal leaders of the country party.
This vigorous proceeding, however, occasioned a general
revolt. Two hundred thousand men took arms in Paris,
barricaded the streets, invested the Palais Royal, and de¬
manded the liberation of the prisoners. It was necessary
to release them; but from that time the regal authority
was annihilated, the queen exposed to a thousand insults,
and Mazarin durst no longer venture out of the Palais
Royal. In this embarrassment the queen recalled the
Prince of Conde, as the only person from whom she could
hope for support. He had retired to Ruel, whither the
regent had gone with the young king and Mazarin. Anne
of Austria proposed to him the reducing of Paris by force
of arms; but he calmed the resentments of that princess,
and instead of becoming accessory to her vengeance, di¬
rected all his views to pacify the kingdom, and at length
brought about an accommodation between the parties, who
all desired it with equal ardour. But new incidents soon
rekindled the combustion. The treachery of Mazarin, and
the artifices of the leaders of the country party, occasioned
fresh cabals and fresh troubles. Conde was caressed by
the leaders of both parties ; but at last, enraged at the ar¬
rogance of the malcontents, who every day formed new
pretensions, he took part openly with the court, though he
thought it ungrateful, and protected the minister, though
he did not esteem him.
The royal family, the Duke of Orleans, Conde, and Ma¬
zarin, left Paris privately in the night between the 5th and
6th of January 1646, and went to St Germains. The par¬
liament sent deputies to learn from the queen herself the
reasons of her departure, and to beg her to name the citi¬
zens whom she suspected, that they might be tried. Ma¬
zarin had the imprudence to dismiss the envoys without
any answer. Exasperated at this, the people again took
up arms in order to defend themselves against the court,
which had determined to block up and to starve the ca¬
pital, in order to suppress the party of malcontents. Ac¬
cordingly, with seven or eight thousand men, the broken
relics of the last campaign, the Prince of Conde formed a
design of reducing above five hundred thousand intrenched
behind walls. He had neither money nor magazines, and
he had to operate in the depth of a most severe winter;
nevertheless he constantly defeated the troops of the mal¬
contents ; prevailed on het army which marched to their
assistance under Turenne to abandon that general; stopped
the progress of the Duke de Longueville, who had caused
an insurrection in Normandy; got the start of the Spa¬
niards, who were advancing to give him battle ; and ulti¬
mately reduced the refractory capital.
De Retz, coadjutor of Paris, and afterwards cardinal,
was the life and soul of the revolters, and directed all their
motions. He had taken Catiline as his model, and he was
equally intrepid, and capable of the most daring actions,
of an exalted genius, but governed by ambition. He sig¬
nalized his hatred to Mazarin by arming the malcontents,
and he himself raised at his own expense a regiment which
he called the regiment of Corinth. Peace was at length
signed at St Germains ; but neither party carried its point,
and scarcely any one but Conde acquired glory in this
war. After the conclusion of the treaty, the prince re¬
paired to the capital, and traversed the streets in his coach,
without attendants. All persons of any consequence paid
D E.
their compliments to him, and the parliament sent a so- U
lemn deputation to thank him for the peace to which he u-L [A
had so powerfully contributed.
The important service which Conde had just rendered
the court entitled him to the acknowledgments of the
queen, and especially of Mazarin ; but the dark soul of the
cardinal only remembered it to punish a too fortunate and
too powerful protector. He privately vowed the prince’s
destruction ; at least resolved that he should give the whole
kingdom a pattern of submission to and dependence on his
will. However, not to excite public indignation, he still
kept up appearances with the prince, and deceived him,
by making the most flattering proposals, which he always
found means to avoid fulfilling. On the other hand, the
enraged prince despised the minister, and treated him
with disdain. After this they were again reconciled only
to be again at variance. Each in his turn courted the
country party, in order to make it subservient to his de¬
signs. At length Mazarin thought of an expedient, which
had but too frequently answered his purpose, of creating
an irreconcilable quarrel between that party and the prince.
Among the malcontents, the Marquis de la Boulaye, aman
of an infamous character, had obtained the confidence of
the party by false appearances of hatred to the cardinal,
while he secretly kept up a correspondence with his emi¬
nence. It is pretended that he made him an offer of killing
Conde privately. Mazarin was charmed with the proposal;
but he only required Boulaye to exhibit all the proofs of
an assassination, and to act in such a manner that every
thing might concur to render the country party suspected
of that crime. He was punctually obeyed ; the coach was
stopped; some pistols were fired at it, by which two of the
footmen were dangerously wounded ; and after this shame¬
ful exploit, La Boulaye took refuge in the hotel of the Duke
of Beaufort, who was the hero of the party, in order no
doubt to countenance the prince’s suspicion of the malcon¬
tents. Luckily Conde was not in his coach when it was
stopped ; the cardinal had spread the report of his intended
assassination, and, in concert with the queen and the prince,
he had prevailed to have the coach sent away empty, in
order to prove the reality of the attempt. Mazarin coun¬
terfeited a zeal for the prince’s safety ; declaimed furiously
against the malcontents, who, he pretended, had made an
attempt on a life so precious to the state; and inflamed
Conde’s resentment against the Duke of Beaufort and the
coadjutor, whom he supposed to be the authors of this hei¬
nous outrage. The prince was so strongly prejudiced that
he refused to heaV them when they appeared before him to
justify themselves. He demanded justice against them of
the king, formally accused them before the parliament, and
remained inflexible in spite of the pains which the leaders
of the party took to demonstrate to him that he had been im¬
posed upon. The affair was brought before the pai liament;
the accused defended themselves; and the coadjutor, who
had discovered the cardinal’s secret, unmasked him so
well, that the prince agreed to a private negotiation with
the malcontents, requiring nothing more than the coad¬
jutor’s leaving Paris, but with the rank of ambassador to
Rome or Vienna. That prelate wmuld have consented to
this to satisfy Conde, if Mazarin, some days afterwards, had
not given him the choice of any recompense, in order to
engage his concurrence in the prince’s destruction. Mas¬
ter of the queen’s mind, which he guided as he pleased,
and sure of having inflamed against Conde the icsent
ment of the malcontents, he sought and obtained, by
means of the Duchess of Chevreuse, the support of that
powerful faction, which connected itself the more readily
with him, in the hope that the prince’s fall would soon
enable it without difficulty to crush the cardinal himse •
The coadjutor had private conferences with the queen and
CON
CON
203
minister. Conde had notice of it, and in order to dis*
JL/ c0ver if it were true, he endeavoured to extort by sur¬
prise an admission from Mazarin’s own mouth. “ Cardinal,”
said he one day, “ it is publicly reported that you have
nightly meetings with the coadjutor, disguised like a troop¬
er*’ accompanying this speech with a quick and penetrat¬
ing look. But the cardinal, who was a perfect master of
dissimulation, answered him in such a free and apparently
artless manner, that he entirely removed Conde’s appre¬
hensions ; and the latter slighted the information he had
received of the plot forming against him. Mazarin wanted
nothing but the support of the Duke of Orleans, and at last
found means, through the Duchess of Chevreuse, to inflame
the jealousy of that fickle and inconstant prince, and to en¬
gage him to consent to the imprisonment of Conde. And
having thus united all parties, and fearing no other ob¬
stacle, this ungrateful and perfidious minister made pre¬
parations for privately arresting the prince, the order for
which was signed on the 18th January 1650. Conde hav¬
ing that day repaired as usual to the Palais Royal, to as¬
sist at council with the Prince of Conti and the Duke of
Longueville, the queen gave orders to arrest all the three,
and to convey them without any noise to the castle of
Vincennes. She was instantly obeyed, and the princes
were strictly guarded in that prison.
In this unexpected reverse of fortune, the fortitude and
greatness of Conde’s mind were remarkable. Confined
with the two other princes in the tower of Vincennes,
where neither supper, furniture, nor beds were provided,
he contented himself with two new laid eggs, and threw
himself, in his clothes, on a truss of straw, where he slept
twelve hours without waking. He still retained his cheer¬
fulness, and dedicated the greater part of his time to
reading, and the rest to conversation, playing at battle-
door and shuttle-cock, to bodily exercises, and the culti¬
vation of flowers.
Mazarin triumphed in the disgrace of the princes, pro¬
scribed all those who were attached to Conde, and be¬
haved in the most insolent and arbitrary manner possible.
The prince’s friends, however, notwithstanding their being
strictly watched, found means to keep up a regular cor¬
respondence with him, and made various attempts to re¬
lease him. In particular, troops were raised by the Dukes
of Bouillon and Rochefoucault, and the Viscount de Tu-
renne; and the Princess of Conde engaged the province
of Guienne to declare in his favour. But all those efforts
would, perhaps, have been ineffectual, if other and more
powerful resources had not been employed.
In that gallant and warlike age, every thing was ma¬
naged by the intrigues of five or six women, who possess¬
ed the confidence of the leaders of the state, and of the
various parties. The Princess of Mantua, wife to one of the
sons of the Elector Palatine, king of Bohemia, who prin¬
cipally directed the counsels in the party of the princes,
found means to reconcile the Duke of Orleans, the coadju¬
tor, and the malcontents, with the friends of the prince, and
all united their efforts against the cardinal; while the par¬
liament, on the other side, loudly demanded the release
of the prisoners. The different orders of the state also
united in soliciting it, insomuch that the queen was at last
prevailed on to give her consent. At this news Mazarin
was so confounded that he fled in the disguise of a troop¬
er, and arrived at the gates of Richelieu, where a body of
horse waited for him. The parliament, informed by the
king of his flight, thundered forth an arret, by which he
was obliged to leave the kingdom, with his family and
foreign servants, in the space of fifteen days, under the
penalty of being exposed to a criminal prosecution. The
queen desired to follow him with the king; but the nobles
and burghers invested the Palais Royal, and prevented the
execution of this project, which would have kindled a civil Condelxa
war. Mazarin, therefore, perceiving that it was impossible II
for the queen to join him, determined to go himself to re- Condillac,
store the princes to their liberty, and to get the start of ''-'-vw
the deputies who were coming to acquaint them with their
release. On his arrival at Havre, he informed the princes
that they were free, entreated Conde’s friendship, and was
so abject as to prostrate himself at the feet of the man
whom he had so basely oppressed. Conde gave him a
polite reception, and spoke to him in a free and cheer¬
ful tone; but, tired with the mean submissions which the
cardinal lavished upon him, left his eminence without mak¬
ing any promise, and set out on his return to Paris, which
he entered as it were in triumph, amidst the acclamations
of alPorders of men, and the demonstrations of a most
sincere and general joy.
After this a civil war ensued, in which the Prince of
Conde sided with the malcontents. Being pressed by the
king’s army, he retired into the faubourg of St Antoine,
w here he behaved with the utmost bravery; upon which
the citizens opened their gates and received him, and a
peace soon afterwards ensued. His hatred of the cardi¬
nal, however, induced him to quit Paris, and take refuge
among the Spaniards, who made him generalissimo of their
forces; and he captured Rocroi. But the peace of the
Pyrenees restored him to his country; and he again sig¬
nalized himself at the head of the king’s armies. Being
afflicted with gout, he refused the command of the army
in 1676, and retired to Chantilly, where he was as much
esteemed for the virtues of peace as he had before been
for his military talents. He died in 1686, at Fontainbleau.
Conde sur Noireau, a city of the department of Cal¬
vados, in France, in a valley on the river Noireau, which
contains 733 houses, and 3925 inhabitants, chiefly em¬
ployed in manufacturing fine woollen goods.
CONDEIXA, a town of Portugal, in the province of
Beira. It is two leagues south of Coimbra, celebrated in
the retreat of Massena from Torres Vedras, for having
been the place whence he defiled towards the passes be¬
tween the Mondego and the Serra Estrella.
CONDEMNATION, the act of giving judgment, pass¬
ing or pronouncing sentence against a person, who is thus
subjected to some penalty or punishment, either in respect
of life, liberty, reputation, or fortune.
CONDENSATION, the act by which a body is ren¬
dered more dense, compact, and of greater specific gravi¬
ty. The word is commonly applied to the conversion of
vapour into water, by distillation, or by a natural process in
the clouds. See the articles Cloud, Evaporation, &c.
CONDENSER, a pneumatic engine, or syringe, with
which a greater quantity of air may be forced into a given
space; so that ten or more atmospheres, or ten times as
much air as there is at the same time in the same space,
under the usual pressure, may be thrown in by means of
it, and its egress prevented by valves properly disposed.
It consists of a brass cylinder, in which is a moveable pis¬
ton, which being drawn out, the air rushes into the cylin¬
der through a hole provided on purpose; and when the
piston is again forced into the cylinder, the air is driven
into the receiver through an orifice, furnished with a valve
to prevent its getting out.
The receiver or vessel containing the condensed air
should be made very strong, to bear the increased force
of the air ; for which reason vessels of this sort are gene¬
rally made of brass, the orifice being fitted with a female
screw to receive the male screw at the end of the con¬
denser.
CONDILLAC, Etienne Bonnot de, Abbe de Mu-
reaux, well known as an eminent writer on metaphysics and
education, was born at Grenoble in 1715. He was brother
r
204
CONDILLAC.
Condillac, to the Abbe de Mably; and, like him, arrived at high ce-
lebrity, though in a different line of pursuit. He seems to
have been actuated by the purest motives of utility to his
species, in directing his exertions to the elucidation of
those subjects in metaphysical science, the imperfect state
of which had involved the studies, as well as the public
pursuits, of the thinking world, in perplexity, and had re¬
tarded the attainment of that degree of sound knowledge
and of happiness for which the faculties of man entitled
him to hope. The field of metaphysical research had been
for some time laid open by the destruction ot the imperi¬
ous authority of Aristotle and the schools; a variety ot
contending doctrines, which had made their appearance,
created in active minds a spirit of independence ; and no
admiration of the genius of another prevented the sugges¬
tions of the philosophic critic from mingling themselves
with the illustrations of the enlightened pupil. -Locke
had led the way to a mode of investigation now rising into
favour, and promising to impart a luminous simplicity o
the science of mind ; and philosophers emulated one an¬
other in their efforts to correct or to extend the doctrines
of this author, or to found upon them others distinguished
by new improvements. Condillac was one of the first who
introduced this style of metaphysical inquiry into French
literature. His earliest work was his Essai sur l Ongine
des Connoissances Humaines, which appeared in 1 eiG. I his
work contains those favourite opinions which are exhibited
wfith more correct taste in his subsequent productions.
It is not, however, superseded by the latter, as it contains
a variety of interesting illustrations peculiar to itself ; and
although here we find his errors particularly prominent,
that circumstance seems rather to proceed from the ab¬
sence of art and of plausibility, than from the subsequent
adoption of views more radically correct. From the out¬
line which he first formed of philosophic methods, he
seems never to have departed. The object of the first part
of this essay is to confirm and extend the doctrine or Locke,
that all ideas originate in the senses, and consist ot sen¬
sations variously modified. Readers who conceive that
Locke’s doctrine, when followed to its consequences, tends
to lower the estimation in which the human mind ought to
beheld, will probably attach the same blame to Condillac.
His curious saving clause will not vindicate his opinions
among the philosophers of this country, however conve¬
nient it might be found among the adherents of the Roman
Catholic church, that the dependence of the soul on the
senses is one of the effects of the fall ot man, and a proot
of his present state of degradation. Readers who are not
ambitious of possessing a fixed theory in a department ot
metaphysics so abstruse, will be pleased with those traits
of acuteness in the observation of mental phenomena which
abound in this essay, and which are often expressed with
great felicity, even while the slight distortions communi¬
cated to some of his representations of facts by the ten¬
dencies of his theories obtrude themselves on our notice.
The doctrine now mentioned is followed up by two other
leading positions, “ that the association of ideas is the
foundation of the most important mental operations,” and
“ that language is absolutely necessary to the develop¬
ment of the human faculties.” Ideas, he asserts, cannot
be associated with one another, except by being associat¬
ed with words or other signs which become the materials
of a language. On this doctrine he establishes a defini¬
tion of memory, which is altogether unique, that it con¬
sists in the recalling of words or circumstances^ relating
to a perception ; the recalling of the perception itself be¬
longs to imagination, while it is reminiscence that makes
us recognise it as one which we have formerly entei talli¬
ed. He denies all memory to animals, because they have
no language. Thus a futile fallacy led him to form a ver¬
bal distinction, founded on no difference in the nature of cl
things. A person destitute of language, and wishing to '4',
have it in his power, on future occasions, to recal a par¬
ticular idea, might certainly find means adapted to his
purpose, by associating it with different objects. Ihese
objects would serve the same purpose as the signs of which
our languages consist. Some such associations are essen¬
tial to memory. The slightest attention will show us that
words or signs serve no other purpose than is done by all
kinds of ideas, in assisting the mind to make use of one
another. What this author calls a sign, is merely another
idea intentionally associated with that which we princi¬
pally wish to recollect. We may give the latter numer¬
ous associations, that it may have many chances of being
recalled. We associate it either with the most important
or with the readiest of our perceptions, that it may be re¬
called more perfectly, or with greater certainty. The only
circumstances that render some perceptions better adapt¬
ed to this end than others, are their importance, their fa¬
miliarity, and their analogy with those which have been
previously used. We generally choose our instruments
of private recollection from the materials of language, be¬
cause these materials are already employed for communi¬
cation. They are rendered convenient by their variety,
and by the classifications and analogies which were fol¬
lowed in the first formation of them, as necessary for ren¬
dering them the media of communication, and which, by
connecting them powerfully together, give them a high
adaptation for extensive arrangements. Language, in
that state of improvement in which it exists in a culti¬
vated age, extends intellectual operations; but it neither
adds any radically distinct faculty, nor gives origin to any
new genus of mental exercise. Condillac says, that “ a
man without language could not recal his ideas, except
when placed in the same circumstances in which they had
been formerly presented.” The obvious answ’er to this is,
that language, in so far as it serves this purpose, consists
in the multiplication of the assisting circumstances in
which a man is placed when a perception is formed.
Many ingenious illustrations are subjoined, which are de¬
serving of attention; but when well considered they will
lead to conclusions differing from those which the author
endeavours to establish. In viewing the mind in its ac¬
tive state, he justly observes, that objects attract its at¬
tention only as they are connected with our temperament,
our passions, our condition, and our wants; and this prin¬
ciple is afterwards beautifully applied to the illustration
of the earliest acquisitions of knowledge, and of the dif¬
ference of character between them and many that succeed
at a later period. But no person would affirm that oui
wants are the signs of our perceptions, though various
perceptions are powerfully recalled by their means.
The opinions of the author certainly led him to ascribe
too much to language. It is to the want of signs that he
traces the whole disadvantages of the deaf, whereas we
know that they are entirely owing to the deficiencies of
their mental intercourse with others, that is, to then pii-
vation, not of the private, but of the social use of lan¬
guage. We find that the great improvements now made
in the art of communicating with the deaf have made
these disadvantages to disappear. The young man of
Chartres, who was born deaf, but acquired the faculty of
hearing when of adult age, and was therefore able to de¬
scribe the state of his understanding during his former
deafness, declared, that when he made the sign of t le
cross, and joined in the other ceremonies of the Roman Ca¬
tholic religion, he had never attached to them any mean¬
ing, or supposed that any thing was represented by them-
Thus, for want of language, he is represented as destitute
of ideas. In this instance, however, we only perceive
C O N D
L facility with which men imitate one another’s acts
1V and professions, without exercising independent thought.
The difference between this deaf man and most other per¬
sons was, that he took the propriety of the ceremonies for
granted, being entirely led by example, while those who
had heard their meaning explained acquiesced with reve¬
rence and complacency in certain verbal positions con¬
nected with them, without ever inquiring into their mean¬
ing or their merits. Another illustration is taken from a
man, who, though he enjoyed the faculty of hearing, had
1 jivecJ apart from all association with his species in the fo-
rest of Lithuania. But it is easy to show that the great
mental deficiencies of that individual arose from the want
of society, and not simply from the want of a language to
supply his private meditations with signs.
!■ It is in the art of calculation that the utility of signs is
■ most conspicuous in forwarding the progress of intellec-
'' tual operation, and it is there that we find a language pre-
sented to the eye, which is adapted in a most perfect de-
o-ree to the purposes of the mind. Hence the use of signs
for expressing our ideas of number is a favourite topic
e' with Condillac and the other adherents of the doctrines
i of the Nominalists. The number ninety-nine could not
be distinguished from a hundred, except by language.
il Ninety-nine objects placed together would not convejr a
«■ different perception from a number varying from it by one
less or one more. It is an error, however, to imagine,
that the words one hundred, or the ciphers (100) by
which the number is represented, give us a perfect idea
ti' of any number. They only represent one relation of it to
a certain mode of accumulation, the decimal series. In-
“J dependently of all language, general features may be per¬
ceived to characterize objects too complicated to be com-
|t prehended by any human mind.
Condillac, seduced by his favourite theories, condemns
one of the most profound and useful of the practical ob¬
servations of Locke, that the best way of arriving at cor-
ii rect knowledge is to consider ideas by themselves, inde¬
pendently of their signs. This exercise our author pro¬
nounces to be utterly impracticable; and all that he at¬
tempts to recommend in its stead is the precaution of em¬
ploying only such words as are well understood. How
^ can words be understood, unless the ideas which they re¬
st present are considered as detached from all association
it with them, and thus exempted from the embarrassing in-
ii’ fluence of fallacious analogies ?
ioi Regarding language as a necessary instrument of men-
lii’ tal operations, he makes some observations on the parts
t. of speech, and the manner in which they are connected
hi ! in sentences. He describes with ingenuity the steps by
which words pass from expressing sensible qualities to be¬
come the names of mental faculties. Here we perceive a
glimmering of some truths which have been since lumi¬
nously displayed in the Philosophical Essays of. Mr Du-
gald Stewrart. He introduces at the same time some spe¬
culations on the origin of abstract terms, which are not
entitled to equal approbation. He takes occasion, how¬
ever, to make one remark which is both beautiful and just,
that men have too often imagined that words perfectly
explain the essence and nature of things, whereas they
express in reality nothing more than some imperfect ana¬
logies. This position, followed to its consequences, would
suggest a correction of a great part of the author’s errors.
In describing the pronoun, he gives way to a species of
metaphysical mysticism, by which he is grievously misled.
He conceives that this class of words must be of late for¬
mation, because some difficulty must have occurred in
substituting another word for the proper name of an ob¬
ject. He did not here consider that nothing of the es¬
sence of an object, nothing but qualities, circumstances,
[ L L A C. 205
or accidents, is expressed by the proper name, more than Condillac,
b}^ the pronoun. The same man may be “ John,” “ fa-
ther,” “ brother,” “ master,” “ subject,” “ I,” “ thou,” or
“ he, according to the occasions on which the mention of
him is introduced. All the designations applied to him
are equally proper and easily made.
Yet this work is well worthy of an attentive perusal.
We find in it a brilliancy of expression which renders it
more amusing than metaphysical dissertations often are;
although it must be confessed that there is in some in¬
stances a false simplicity, arising from an attempt to re¬
present metaphysical science as easier than it really is.
In his subsequent works he acknowledges that he had fal¬
len into some errors from the precipitate views which he
took of the mental powers; but he specifies no particu¬
lars ; and a reader who does not acquiesce in all his im¬
proved views will not easily see the exact corrections
which the author made on those contained in his Essai.
In 1749 he published his Traite des Systemes, the ob¬
ject of which was to show the futility of the doctrines de¬
rived from those hypothetical systems which were the off¬
spring of an erroneous mode of procedure in the pursuit
of knowledge; such as those which set out with general
or abstract maxims, and pretend to establish on them a
body of profound science. Another kind consists of arbi¬
trary suppositions, laid down as principles for the expla¬
nation of things which cannot be otherwise accounted for.
These are a convenient resource for ignorance; they are
formed with so much pleasure and so little trouble, that a
man in bed may, by their aid, create and govern the uni¬
verse. He illustrates the conspicuous influence which
this mode of systematizing had on opinions in metaphy¬
sics. He takes a view of the system of innate ideas as
maintained by Descartes; that of Malebranche, who re¬
duced all knowledge and all mental activity to operations
which had the divine essence for their objects; that of
Leibnitz, who explained the laws both of matter and of
mind by general functions pertaining to simple and indi¬
visible beings, which he called monades ; and that of Spi¬
noza, who reduced all nature and all existence to one
simple substance, of which the various phenomena, mate¬
rial and mental, are only modifications. The last of these
systems had created some commotion in the philosophical
and religious world, as adverse to a belief in moral dis¬
tinctions. Condillac treats the argument with a dignified
delicacy, as having received a wrong direction in the writ¬
ings of that author, in consequence of the erroneous me¬
thods of investigation which he employed. His words
are, “ Does Bayle believe that he has refuted Spinoza, by
exposing the consequences which he himself draws from
the system of that philosopher ? If these are not really
its consequences, he does not attack Spinoza. If they are,
Spinoza will reply that they are not at all absurd, and only
appear so to persons who are unable to ascend to the prin¬
ciples of things. Destroy, he will say, my principles, if
you would overthrow my system; or if you let my prin¬
ciples alone, assent to the propositions which are their
necessary consequences.” “ My object,” says Condillac,
“ has been to show that Spinoza had no idea of the posi¬
tions which he advanced; that his definitions are vague,
his axioms inaccurate, and his propositions entirely the
work of imagination, and include nothing that can lead to
the knowledge of things. Having done this, I proceed no
farther. To attack the phantoms which arise from his
principles, would be as preposterous as the feats of the
knights-errant, who combated the spectres of the sorcer¬
ers. The wisest plan is to destroy the enchantment.
Having shown the radical fallacy of the principles adopt¬
ed by the preceding writer's, he points out the cases in
which hypotheses assist human knowledge. The first is,
206
CONDILLAC,
Condillac, when we can exhaust all the hypotheses that can be
formed on any subject, and possess a rule for distinguish¬
ing that which is admissible. Of this we have examples
in the pure mathematics. A second kind of hypothesis
includes those which are employed in astronomy, provid¬
ed they are limited to the object of accounting for the
revolutions of the heavenly bodies. A third occasion on
which they ought not to be rejected is, when they facili¬
tate observation, by giving greater palpability to truths
attested by experience. He mentions the importance of
general systems formed by a process of induction. He
points out the necessity of general systems in politics,
founded on the character and condition of the different
classes of men who constitute the body politic; and con¬
cludes with a view of the advantage derived from system
in the arts. He gives some useful practical observations
on the application of mathematical and metaphysical ana¬
lysis. This treatise abounds in excellent remarks on hu¬
man character, as displayed both in intellectual pursuits
and in the business of life. His comparison of Locke and
Malebranche is a masterpiece of description.
Next in order, his Traite des Sensations made its appear¬
ance in 1754; a work which displays a truly philosophi¬
cal spirit, uniting boldness with circumspection. The
mode in which he investigates the origin of ideas of sense,
and the progress of intellectual operation, had the merit
of some originality, and afforded an undoubted advantage
to the prosecution of the most interesting inquiries. He
considers the sense in a separate state, by forming the
supposition of a being created without sensations. He
supposes this being in the first instance to be endowed
with the sense of smell, and describes the mental charac¬
ter which would thus be formed. He gives a similar ac¬
count of the other senses, and examines successively the
effects of their combinations, till he arrives at the descrip¬
tion of a complete human being.
His uniform aim is to show that all ideas and all mental
phenomena consist of sensations transformed. Those who
i-eject that doctrine will still acknowledge the beauty and
ingenuity of his train of description. The conclusion it¬
self is refuted by the slightest reflection on the very scope
of the author. He evidently supposes the man who be¬
comes thus complete by receiving his different external
senses in succession, to have been previously in posses¬
sion of dormant intellectual faculties ; for his descriptions,
while they apply to man, will not apply to many other
animated beings whose senses are equally perfect, because
the use which they are able to make of the impressions
received is either incomparably more limited or different
in kind. If the results of intellectual operation are no¬
thing else than sensations transformed, the transformation
is certainly more important than the original materials,
and the transforming power cannot be lightly esteemed
by any one who values extended knowledge. The fa¬
vourite theme of the author, however, detracts but little
from the pleasure which this ingenious work imparts.
Some would pronounce the discussions which it contains
to be not strictly analytical. Analysis should begin with
man as he exists in a complicated state, with all his senses
as well as his faculties entire, and proceed to separate his
constituent powers by successive subdivisions, till, in its
progress downwards, it arrives at the description of each
sense and each species of intellectual operation in a sepa¬
rate and simple state. The description of a man endowed
in that kind of succession which Condillac describes, is a
purely hypothetical process, more allied to arbitrary syn¬
thesis than to analysis. By analysis, however, the author
means, in a general way, the task of surveying in succes¬
sion the parts of which compound objects consist, and ex¬
amining separately the relations by which they are con¬
nected, without any reference to the order of procedure. Con
Decomposition and recomposition he, in a subsequent ^
work, represents as alike belonging to analysis; and though
from etymology the Greek word synthesis is the same
with that of the Latin word composition, he limits the
former term to that mode of composition which he con¬
demns, that which begins with general or abstract doc¬
trines, and which regards these as the ground of systems
pretending to explain the existing world. Although his
order of description of the senses is so far hypothetical as
to have nothing corresponding to it in the natural history
of man, he regarded it as sufficiently capable of being sub¬
stantiated by close comparison with every man’s expe¬
rience, and thus distinguished from the offspring of an ar¬
bitrary synthesis.
These works having procured for the author a distin¬
guished character in the philosophical world, he was ap¬
pointed preceptor to the infant Duke of Parma, grandson
of Louis XV.; and, in applying himself to the discharge
of the duties of that office, he brought into exercise-the
same talents which had shone so conspicuously in his writ¬
ings. He composed a course of studies ( Cours d'Etudes)
in thirteen volumes, including Grammaire, lArt dEcrire,
VArt de Raisonner, l'Art de Penser, occupying the first four
volumes, succeeded by nine volumes On Ancient and Mo¬
dern History. His Grammaire exhibits, in his own able
manner, doctrines in universal grammar nearly allied to
those which generally prevailed, and which we find in the
Grammaire Generale et Raisonnee of the Port Royal. The
author’s favourite principle, that every language is an ana¬
lytical method, runs through the body of his work, and
probably leads him to pay too great respect to the tech¬
nical differences of the parts of speech, as indicating
thoughts of different classes. EArt dEcrire is a most
agreeable and enlightened system of general criticism,
and adds to this the merit of exhibiting an interesting
view of French literature, in the examples of good and of
faulty writing by which the precepts contained in it are
illustrated. The whole rules relative to style are refer¬
red to one principle, that a writer ought to conform his
diction and his imagery to the most fundamental associa¬
tions of ideas. His rules thus deduced do not exhibit
any such difference from those of other authors as to form
in his readers a style marked by any singularities. On
the contrary, we find him exempting literature from the
shackles of some rules, the close observance of which se¬
cures an apparent accuracy at the expense of a natural
ease, and showing his susceptibility to the influence of a
pure taste by bestowing approbation on passages which a
critic of a more formal cast would have thought himself
called upon to censure. His Art de Raisonner is a work
of singular excellence and utility. It is a luminous ex¬
emplification of the rules of reasoning, in the steps of that
mental progress by which physical philosophers have un¬
folded the laws of motion, the principles of mechanics,
and the theory of the heavenly bodies. He discriminates
with just and beautiful effect the different kinds of evi¬
dence on which the various doctrines of those branches of
natural philosophy rest. This treatise is well worthy of
being known in our language, as it exhibits an uncom¬
monly pleasing road to an elegant department of physical
knowledge, and furnishes a model for the prosecution of
other studies. HisHrt de Penser, notwithstanding all the
ability which it displays, will probably be found the least
interesting part of the Cours dEtudes, as it chiefly con¬
sists in an explanation and recommendation of the authors
peculiar notions on the nature of mind. His Ancient and
Modern History forms a body of morality and legislation.
His details are not inspirited with the ardent eloquence
of a popular historian who excites a deep interest in inch-
C O N
vidual characters or insulated events. He does not exhi¬
bit paintings to the imagination, but contents himself with
furnishing leading principles to the understanding. His
style, though pure, is without ornament and without fire,
and hence his history has been much less read than his
other works.
In 1768 he was admitted into the Academy of Sciences,
on the death of the Abbe d’Olivet; but he never after¬
wards appeared at any of the meetings of that body.
His attention being habitually directed to those subjects
in which intellectual exertion was most wanted, for the
advancement of objects of general utility, he published, in
1776, the results of his studies on Political Economy, in a
work entitled Le Commerce et le Gouvernement, consideres
relativement Vun d l'autre. This work became an object of at¬
tack to the Economists; and the author, no doubt, like most
others who have written on that subject, committed some
mistakes. Yet he essentially improved the discussions
connected with it, and he exhibits a model of luminous
arrangement in his mode of delivering his opinions.
The extended fame of Condillac procured for him a most
honourable testimony of esteem from the Polish nation.
The council of public instruction of that nation requested
him, through the medium of Count Ignatius Potocki, to
draw up an elementary treatise on logic, for the use of
their palatinal schools. This gave birth to liis Logique,
which was published in 1780, a few months before his
death. The object of this work is to give a condensed
account of the principles of ayialysis, taken in the accep¬
tation already mentioned. This process, he observes, is
taught by nature, and is alw’ays conducted with accuracy
when man is in quest of the means of supplying the urgent
necessities of his being. It is when curiosity forms to him
a separate order of objects for his gratification, that he be¬
comes precipitate in grasping at conclusions, and embraces
them with readiness, though not the produce of that rigor¬
ous correctness of method which necessity imposes on his
earlier pursuits. In giving an account of the origin of ideas
and the mental faculties, he exemplifies his views of ana¬
lysis, and, at the same time, prepares the way for further
applications of the mental powers of his pupils. He ad¬
heres to his doctrine of the supreme and exclusive influ¬
ence of language in conducting all intellectual pursuits.
Generalization and classification are, with him, nothing
more than the contrivance of generic names. The art of
reasoning is made to consist in the formation of an appro¬
priate language for the different sciences. He considers
the justness of our reasonings as depending on the degree
of perfection of the languages which wre possess. The
superior certainty of mathematical compared with other
knowledge is ascribed by him to the superior accuracy of
mathematical language. Hence his favourite illustrations
of the progress of the mind are taken from arithmetic and
algebra.. This principle is certainly carried by him to
great excess in the framing of his general positions ; yet
we find him on other occasions recommending to his read¬
ers to cultivate the unbiassed study of nature, and to
choose their words rather from the correctness of their
application to objects, as they have fallen under actual ob¬
servation, than from having their meaning fixed by the un¬
satisfactory formality of verbal definitions. He lays down
some highly useful rules for the prosecution of knowledge.
His errors arise chiefly from a strained effort to give to
his subject a degree of simplicity not adapted to its nature.
Hence some of his maxims are more quaint than just; but,
compared with the complicated systems of logic previous¬
ly in use, that of our author formed an improvement which
merited the grateful reception that was given to it; and,
even at the present day, if we pardon the paradoxical ge¬
neralities by which it is disfigured, we may profitably trace,
CON 207
in company with the author, the steps by which many in- Conditional
tellectual attainments are made, and the means by which II
the process admits of being facilitated. Condom.
The last work of Condillac, his posthumous treatise, en-
titled La Langue des Calculs, formed an important acqui¬
sition to science, which has not in this country been duly
appreciated. In some subordinate points it is not unex¬
ceptionable ; for example, he here, as in some of his for¬
mer works, particularly his Art de Raisonner, perpetually
repeats the assertion as of the greatest importance, that
just reasoning consists in tracing identical propositions, and
in passing from identity to identity. Aware of the objec¬
tion to which this assertion was exposed, that identical
propositions can amount to nothing more than futile and
stagnant truisms, he imagines that this objection is an¬
swered by stating that, in the different steps of a process
of calculation, there is an identity of ideas, but a difference
in words, which is certainly a gross paralogism. In one or
two passages he states with greater truth, though appa¬
rently by accident, that a process of calculation consists in
considering the same objects in different points of view; a
proposition which ought to have had that conspicuous
place in his treatise which he gives to his doctrine of per¬
fect identity. If this single alteration is made in the mind
of the reader, the iMngue des CalculswiW be perused with
the highest profit. An English translation of it would
form an important accession to the means of an enlighten¬
ed education in this country, as leading, by pleasant steps,
to the highest scientific attainments.
Condillac is to be considered as in the soundest sense of
the word an amiable man. If he had an apparent reserve,
and in some respects a want of fervour, these apparent de¬
fects were more than compensated by the steadiness of his
conduct. In early life he was intimate with J. J. Rous¬
seau, Diderot, and Duclos. But he indulged no hazard¬
ous speculations on the general interests of mankind, and
cherished no modes of thinking which tended to divide or
distract the age. He was sincerely public-spirited; and
his conciliating sentiments will, perhaps, among those who
most accurately weigh them, be respected as morally su¬
blime. As a well-wisher to the fortunes of his species, he
acted on a principle which he considers as having uniform¬
ly operated in the production of former improvements.
He dwells on the value of the attainments already made,
as an exercise fitted to create a spontaneous disposition to
extend them, divested of the spirit of party, and exempt
from rashness. Hence his works were not only much read
by individuals, but were employed in many of the conti¬
nental seminaries of education, and, without exciting dis¬
content or apprehension, except among the inflexible scho¬
lastics of Spain, proved successful in illuminating the age
in which they appeared. He died in August 1780, on his
estate near Bangenci, where he had cultivated a life of re¬
tirement, though not more allied to solitude than as it was
exempt from the scenes of public bustle and prevalent am¬
bition.
CONDITIONAL, something not absolute, but subject
to conditions.
Conditional Conjunctions, in Grammar, are those
which serve to make propositions conditional; as if, unless,
provided, and so forth.
Conditional Propositions, in Logic, such as consist of
two parts connected together by a conditional particle.
Conditional Syllogism, a syllogism where the major is
a conditional proposition. Thus,
If there is a God, he ought to be worshipped.
But there is a God ;
Therefore he ought to be worshipped.
CONDOM, an arrondissement of the department of Gers,
in France, extending over 650 square miles. It is divided
1
208
C O N
CON
Condor into six cantons and a hundred and twenty-eight com¬
il munes, containing 64,578 inhabitants. The chief place, a
Condorcet. cjty 0f t]ie same name, is situated in a charming valley,
and contains 993 houses, with 7051 inhabitants, who are
employed in cotton-spinning and weaving. It is the centre
of the trade in brandy, of which a large quantity is pre¬
pared in the western division of the department. Long. 0.
15. 39. E. Lat. 43. 57. 55. N.
CONDOR, Pulo Isles, a cluster of small islands m the
Eastern Seas, situated off the southern coast of Cambodia.
The principal island is about twelve miles in length, and
two in breadth ; it is in the form of a crescent, and con¬
sists chiefly of a range of high and rugged mountains. On
the east side of the island is a spacious bay with good an¬
chorage, at the bottom of which is a village situated on a
fine sandy beach. The island is destitute of spring water ;
and the soil is barren, producing only a few sweet potatoes,
beans, gourds, and water melons. The inhabitants, who
are mostly refugees from Cambodia and Cochin China,
are poor and indolent, and incapable of supplying ships
with refreshments. Their physiognomy denotes a Chinese
origin, though they do not understand the Chinese tongue.
The English, in 1702, at the instigation of Dampier, en¬
deavoured to form a settlement here ; but the settlers
were mostly cut oft by the treachery of the nativ es. Long.
106. 42. E. Lat. 8. 40. N.
CONDORCET, Marie-Jean-Antoine-Nicolas-Ca-
ritat, Marquis of, a French philosophical, political, and
biographical writer, of distinguished eminence, descended
from an ancient family in the principality of Orange, and
born at Ribemont, in Picardy, in 1743. He received his
education at the college of Navarre, where he was distin¬
guished at an early period of life for his strong attach¬
ment to the study ot physics and mathematics. On his
entrance into public life, he established a friendly intei-
course with Voltaire, D’Alembert, and other literary cha¬
racters who professed opinions analogous to his own, and
formed a very powerful party among the French literati,
whose united efforts to propagate their ideas of religion
and politics have been applauded or condemned according
to the principles of their different judges. Condorcet first
attracted the attention of the public as a mathematician,
obtaining their approbation for his treatise on integral cal¬
culations, which he composed at the age of twenty-two.
In the year 1767 his solution of the problem of the Three
Bodies made its appearance, and in the following year the
first part of his Essay on Analysis. In the year 1769 he
was received as a member of the Academy of Sciences,
the memoirs of which were greatly enriched by him with
different papers on the most abstruse branches of mathe¬
matical science. His justly-merited reputation pointed
him out as a fit person to co-operate with D’Alembert
and Bossut, in assisting the celebrated minister and able
financier M. Turgot with arithmetical calculations. In
the mean time he laboured indefatigably in the study of
politics and metaphysics, and defended, in an anonymous
publication, the sect of philosophers to which he had at¬
tached himself, from an attack made upon them in the
Trots Siecles; and replied to M. Necker’s essay on Corn
Laws. He was appointed secretary to the Academy of
Sciences in the year 1773, when he employed much of his
time in writing eulogies on such of its deceased members
as Fontenelle had passed over in silence. Condorcet hav¬
ing, like D’Alembert and some others, united in himself
the characters of an elegant writer and a man of pro¬
found research, was admitted into the French academy in
1783, when he pronounced an oration on the influence of
philosophy, which was ordered to be printed. From the
time of D’Alembert’s death, which happened this year,
he filled the situation of secretary to that academy, ren¬
dering his name conspicuous by the publication of eulo- Condoi;;1 ^
gies on different eminent characters. His panegyric on sf
D’Alembert, to whom he was most sincerely attached, is
a very elaborate performance, and is esteemed as a candid
account of the genuine merits of that great philosopher.
The encomium he bestowed on Euler furnished him with
a favourable opportunity of giving a circumstantial ac¬
count of the specific improvements and inventions confer¬
red on a peculiar branch of science by the labours of that
illustrious individual; a talent which Condorcet appears
to have possessed in an eminent degree, and which is of
the greatest importance to a biographical writer. His
eulogy on the minister Turgot was read with avidity, and
admired by all those who approved of ft urgot s plans of
government and system of finance. In the year 1787 he
gave to the public his Life of Voltaire, which was highly
elaborate, and replete with lofty panegyric, on the merits
of which mankind were much divided, according to their
sentiments respecting that author’s philosophy. The last
of his biographical works was an eulogy on the celebrated
Dr Franklin, published in 1790; but all of them will be
read with some degree of prejudice by those who are ini¬
mical to the school of philosophy to which he belonged.
The memorable event of the French Revolution, which
the writings of Condorcet and his associates unquestion¬
ably accelerated, naturally interested his feelings, and
called forth his exertions; but the conduct of the politi¬
cal parties and their leaders, during this tumultuous pe¬
riod, is painted in colours so diametrically opposite, that
a proper estimate of it is even yet scarcely possible. In
this part of Condorcet’s life, therefore, we must confine
ourselves to such facts as are universally acknowledged,
leaving it to our readers to draw inferences for themselves.
At an early period he employed his talents to promote
those reforms, for such they appeared to his mind, which
were to pave the way to a new order ot things. A work
entitled La Bibliotheque de VHomme Public, intended to
exhibit an analysis of the writings of the most eminent
politicians, was chiefly conducted by him; as was also a
newspaper called La Chronique de Paris, filled with de¬
clamation against royalty. He had likewise a share in
the Journal de Paris, a paper conducted on similar prin¬
ciples. About the time when the king fled to Varennes,
he proposed a paper called Le Republicain, the intention
of which is clearly deducible from its title. He was an
indefatigable member of the Jacobin club, and spoke fre¬
quently, though not forcibly, in that too famous associa¬
tion. He was chosen a representative for Paris when the
constituent assembly was dissolved, and followed the ge¬
neral political course of the Brissotine party. A plan
for public instruction now exercised his abilities, and he
finished it in two elaborate memoirs on the subject, which
are allowed to contain some exalted and enlarged ideas,
but perhaps rather too extensive to be reduced to prac¬
tice. He was likewise author of the manifesto addressed
to the European powers by the people of hranee on the
approach of a war. He wrote a letter of expostulation to
the king while he was president of the assembly, which
some have considered as by far too severe, and as desti¬
tute of that ceremony to which the sovereign was entitled.
When the king was insulted by the populace at the luii-
leries, in being offered the red cap, it is said that he vin¬
dicated their proceedings. We are also informed, tha
whilst he was degrading royalty in this manner, he was
secretly soliciting the office of tutor to the Dauphin, a
proposition which the king utterly rejected, on account
of his avowed infidelity. Attempts have been ma e
fix upon his character the most abominable ingratitude,
by making him accessory to the murder of the Due e a
Rochefoucault, to whom he was under the strongest od i-
■1
CON
aidii'st-gations, and from whose family he had received a most
J accomplished wife with a large fortune; but it is believed
that this calumny originated entirely from the malevo¬
lence of party spirit. When the trial of the king came
to be agitated, Condorcet gave it as his opinion that he
could not be brought to judgment in a legal manner; yet
it must be confessed that his conduct in regard to the
sentence was rather of an ambiguous nature, and betrayed
that timidity and want of resolution which formed the
most prominent feature of his political career. The judg¬
ment of Madame Roland concerning the moral constitu¬
tion of this wonderful man has the air of perfect impar¬
tiality. “ The genius of Condorcet,” said that lady, “ is
equal to the comprehension of the greatest truths; but
he has no other characteristic besides fear. It may be
said of his understanding, combined with his person, that
it is a fine essence absorbed in cotton. The timidity
which forms the basis of his character, and which he dis¬
plays even in company, does not result from his frame
alone, but seems to be inherent in his soul, and his talents
furnish him with no means of subduing it. Thus, after
having deduced a principle or demonstrated a fact in the
assembly, he would give a vote decidedly opposite, over¬
awed by the thunder of the tribunes, armed with insults,
and lavish of menaces. The properest place for him was
the secretaryship of the academy. Such men should be
employed to write, but never permitted to act.” After
the execution of the king, the Girondin party employed
him to frame a new constitution, the plan of which was
presented to the convention, and obtained their approba¬
tion. It was not thus esteemed by the people at large;
and it has, perhaps not without reason, been considered
as a mass of metaphysical absurdities. During the vio¬
lent struggle between the Girondin and Mountain parties,
Condorcet took no decided part with either; which seems
to have been owing to the native timidity of his mind,
and his abhorrence of the state of public affairs. He was
not comprehended among the number of those who were
sacrificed with their leader Brissot; but having employed
his pen against the victorious party, he fell under the in¬
vincible displeasure of that inhuman and blood-thirsty
monster Robespierre, who issued a decree of accusation
against him in July 1793. He, however, found means to
effect his escape from the arrest, and during nine months
concealed himself in Paris. But at length dreading that
the tyrant would order a domiciliary visit for the purpose
of discovering the place of his retreat, he passed through
the barriers without being noticed, and went to the house
of a person in whom he confided, on the plain of Mont-
Rouge. Unfortunately for Condorcet, however, this friend
was at that time in the metropolis; and he was in conse-
I quence under the necessity of passing two dreary nights
in the open fields, a prey to hunger and to cold. On the
third day he obtained an interview with his friend, who
unhappily durst not venture to afford him shelter under
his roof; so that he was once more compelled to wander
in the fields. At length, worn out by hunger and fatigue,
and life being no longer supportable without sustenance,
he applied at a public house for an omelette, which, as soon
as he obtained it, he devoured greedily. His cadaverous
appearance and uncommonly keen appetite roused the sus¬
picion of a municipal officer who happened to be present,
and by whom he was interrogated; and the ambiguity
and hesitation which characterized his answers made the
officer conclude that it would be proper to apprehend him.
He was accordingly consigned to a dungeon, to be next
day conducted to Paris; but his melancholy fate rendered
such a measure unnecessary. He was found dead in the
morning; and as it was generally understood that he con¬
stantly carried with him a dose of poison, to this cause his
VOL. VII.
CON 209
melancholy exit was ascribed. Thus terminated the ca- Condorcet
reer of Condorcet, on the 28th of March 1794, who for II
many years sustained a brilliant and honourable reputa- Condormi-
tion in the republic of letters. His manners were replete , en^e8'
with urbanity, and he was as well qualified to please in
company as could be expected in a man who wras con¬
ceived, whether rightly or not, to be destitute of heart.
La bonte brillait dans ses yeux,” says Grimm, “ et il
auiait eu plus de tort qu aucun autre de n’etre pas honnete
homme, parce qu il aurait trompe davantage par sa phy-
sionomie, qui annon^ait les qualites les plus paisibles et
les plus douces.” His character, though not exempt from
pride, was always peaceful and obliging. He appeared
timid and embarrassed in a numerous circle; but, with his
friends, he displayed a gaiety and liveliness quite fasci¬
nating, and never made any pretensions to superiority on
account of the great extent of his knowledge. He had
read a great deal, and his memory was prodigious. Soon
after his death appeared his Sketch of an Historical
Draught of the Progress of the Human Mind, a methodi¬
cal performance, evincing profound research, in which he
strongly recommends his favourite idea of gradually bring¬
ing human nature to a state of perfection" by considering
what man has been, now is, and may be. This treatise
will no doubt be viewed by some as rather fanciful; but
it is clearly the effort of a superior genius, and must be
peculiarly interesting, when it is known that it was com¬
posed while its author was in circumstances of danger
and distress. 1 he idea of man’s progressive advancement
towards perfection and happiness inspired him with con¬
solation under his complicated misfortunes. Although he
was an enemy to revealed religion, he was certainly a man
of virtue and integrity; yet all his philosophy could never
inspire him with that heroic fortitude and contempt of
death in a just cause, for which the sincere votaries of
Christianity have ever been conspicuous.
An uniform edition of the works of Condorcet was
printed at Paris in 1804, and forms twenty-one volumes
8vo. For a complete list the reader is referred to the
France Litteraire of M. Ersch. It will be sufficient here
to notice the more remarkable, which are as follow:—
1. Essai d'Analyse, Paris, 1768, 4to ; 2. Lettresd’un Theo-
logien d lAuteur du Dictionnaire des Trois Siecles, Berlin,
1774, 8vo; 3. Eloges des Academiciens de lAcademie
Hoy ale des Sciences, morts depuis 1666 jusquen 1699,
Paris, 1775, 12mo; 4. Eloge et Pensees de Pascal, Lon¬
don, 1776, 8vo; 5. Essai sur Vapplication de l'Analyse d
la probabilite des decisions rendues d Pluralite des Voix,
Paris, 1785, 4to; 6. Vie de M. Turgot, London, 1786,
8vo; 7. Vie de Voltaire, Geneva, 1787, and London, 1790,
2 vols. 18mo; 8. Rapport sur VInstruction Publique, pre¬
sente d la Convention Nationale, Paris, 1792, 8vo; 9. Bib-
liotheque de THomme Public, ou Analyse Raisonnee des
principaux ouvrages Fran^ais et etrangers sur la Politique
en general, la Legislation, les Finances, etc. Paris, 1790,
1792; 10. Esquisse d'un Tableau Historique des progres
de VEsprit Humain, ouvrage posthume, 1795, 8vo; 11.
Moye?i d'apprendre d compter surement et avec facilite, Pa¬
ris, 1799, 12mo; 12. A volume to notes to the Recherches
sur la Nature et les Causes de la Richesse des Nations,
translated from the English of Dr Adam Smith. Along
with Lecroix he published a new edition of Euler’s Lettres
a une Princesse dAllemagne; and he contributed to the
Journal Encyclopedique, the Chronique des Mois, the Re-
publicain, the Journal dInstruction Publique, and other
periodicals. (See Notice sur la Vie et les Ouvrages de
Condorcet, by Diannyere, 1796, 8vo; and Biographic Uni-
verselle.')
CONDORMIENTES, in Church History, religious sec¬
taries, who took their name from sleeping all together, men
2 D
210
CON
CON
tion.
Condrieu and women, young and old. They arose in the thirteenth
II century near Cologne, where they are said to have wor-
Confedera-gripped an image of Lucifer, and to have received an¬
swers and oracles from him.
CONDRIEU, a city of the department of the Rhone,
in France, containing 4350 inhabitants. It is celebrated
for the excellence of its red wine. Long. 4. 38. E. Lat.
45. 28. N.
CONE, in Geometry, a solid figure, having a circle for
its base, and its top terminated in a point or vertex. See
Conic Sections.
CONEGLIANO, a city of Italy, in the delegation ot
Treviso, of the Austrian kingdom of Venetian Lombardy.
It is situated on the river Mutego, at the foot of a moun¬
tain. It contains 4183 inhabitants, industriously employ¬
ed in silk and cloth manufacture. Long. 12. 14. E. Lat.
45. 52. N.
CONFARREATION, a ceremony among the ancient
Romans, used in the marriage of persons whose children
were destined for the honour of the priesthood.
Confarreation was the most sacred of the three modes
of contracting marriage among that people, and consisted,
according to Servius, in the pontifex maximus and flamen
dialis joining and contracting the man and woman, by
making them eat of the same cake of salted bread.^ The
term is formed of con, signifying together, and far, signify¬
ing meal or jlour.
Ulpian says it consisted in the offering up of some pure
wheaten bread, rehearsing withal a certain formula in
presence of ten witnesses. Dionysius Halicarnasseus adds,
that the husband and wife ate of the same wheaten bread,
and threw part on the victims.
CONFEDERATION of the Rhine, the name of a
well-known league entered into by several German prin¬
ces in 1805, by which they separated themselves from the
empire, and formed a new political association, under the
protection of France. This league was an immediate con¬
sequence of the reverses of Austria in the campaign of
1805, and was the first great and avowed measure of Bo¬
naparte to assume the control of the German empire.
After remaining in force somewhat more than seven years,
it fell, along with its prime mover; but is still deserving
of historical notice for its effects, both in giving for a time
a co-operating power to France, and in serving as an in¬
troduction to subsequent changes in the organization of
the Germanic body.
The treaty in question was signed at Paris on 12th July
1806, and ratified at Munich on the 25th of the same
month. It consisted of forty articles, and was subscribed
by the following powers :
Contingents.
The Emperor of France, who engaged to
furnish a contingent of.  200,000 men.
The King of Bavaria    30,000
The King of Wirtemberg  12,000
The Prince Primate 
The Grand Duke of Baden  8,000
The Grand Duke of Berg  5,000
The Grand Duke of Hesse-Darmstadt  4,000
The Duke of Nassau 
The Duke of Aremberg 
The Prince of Nassau-Weilburg 
The Prince of Hohenzollern Hechingen..
The Prince of Hohenzollern Siegmarin-
gen   
The Prince of Lichtenstein 
The Prince of Salm-Salm 
The Prince of Salm-Kyrburg... 
The Prince of Isenburg-Birstein 
The Prince of Leyen 
!>
4,000 collec¬
tively.
Most of the subscribing princes assumed, on this occa-Confej,
sion, titles different from those which they had borne tiot
when members of the empire. It was stipulated that''—yf
they should renounce most of the laws and all the pecu¬
liar titles of the empire ; that their common interests
should be discussed in a diet to be assembled at Frank¬
fort on the Maine, and to be divided into the colleges of
kings and princes, with the Prince Primate as president of
the former, and the Duke of Nassau of the latter ; that the
members of the confederation should be unconnected with
any power except France, between which and the confe¬
deration an intimate compact was formed, and the erh*
peror of which was declared hereditary protector of the
alliance, with the right of nominating the future prince
primates. It was further stipulated, that the confederated
princes should exercise the rights of sovereignty over the
territories newly incorporated by this act with their do¬
minions, leaving private property, however, undisturbed;
and that, in the event of any neighbouring power making
preparations for war, the contracting parties should am
to the extent of the above-mentioned contingents. Final¬
ly, it was provided that other German princes and states
should be allowed to accede to the confederation, and the
league was accordingly strengthened by the Grand Duke
of Wurzburg (on 3d October 1806), with a contingent
of 2000 men; by the king of Saxony (on 11th December
1806) with 20,000 men ; by the king of Westphalia (in
1807) , with 25,000 ; and in the course of that and the
following year, by the Saxon princes, the Dukes of Meck¬
lenburg," and, in short, by all the lesser princes of the
west and north of Germany^.
Immediately after the communication of the treaty of
confederation to the German diet in August 1806, the
Emperor Francis made a formal abdication of the title of
Emperor of Germany ; the ancient constitution of which,
long in a state of decline, now became completely dis¬
solved. Bonaparte had soon occasion to put his new auxi¬
liaries to the test, the war with Prussia breaking out in
the course of a couple of months after the formation of
the alliance. The victory of Jena, and its unparalleled
results, rivetted the yoke around the neck of his new vas¬
sals, and supplied him with recruits to go through the
short but sanguinary campaign of 1807 in Poland. Un¬
fortunately, the confederation afforded him a numerous
and efficient body of auxiliaries at a very interesting pe¬
riod, we mean in April 1809, when Austria, encouraged
by the resistance of Spain, ventured, alone and unassisted,
to take the field in the assertion of her independence.
But the battle of Wagram put an end to her hopes, and
rendered Bonaparte the uncontrolled arbiter of Germany;
a station which, in all probability, he would have continu¬
ed to hold for life, had he not wasted, in the deserts of
Russia, the finest army that Europe ever saw. This loss
was most acutely felt by the states of the confederation,
particularly by Bavaria, its first and principal member.
It was in the beginning of December 1812 that the
great mortality took place among the Bavarians, after
they were brought up from Wilna, in the vain hope of
affording protection to the wreck of the French flying
across the Berezina. The general melancholy occasioned
by the death of so many of their brave countrymen, and
a conviction of the insatiable ambition of Bonaparte, iais-
ed among the states of the confederation a spiri t of national
independence, and paved the way to that alliance which
it was soon in the power of Austria and Prussia to offer to
their German neighbours. Hence the easy entry of the
allies into Saxony in April 1813, and the memorable de¬
fection of the Saxons in the battle of Leipsic on the 18th
of October; and hence, also, the conclusion of a treaty
between Austria and Bavaria in the month last mentioned,
im the eager march of the Bavarians to Hanau to intercept
the retreating French, and the obstinate though unavailing
k- conflict which took place in the neighbourhood of that city.
The Confederation of the Rhine, already virtually dis-
' solved, became finally annulled in 1814, and was replaced
at the Congress of Vienna by an association on a larger
scale under the name of the Germanic Confederation. Of
this new and comprehensive body a more particular ac¬
count will be found under the head of Germany.
CONFESSION, among divines, the verbal acknowledg¬
ment which a Christian makes of his sins.
Among the Jews it was the custom, on the annual feast
of expiation, for the high priest to make confession of sins
to God in the name of the whole people. And besides this
general confession, the Jews were enjoined, if their sins
were a breach of the first table of the law, to make con¬
fession of them to God; but violations of the second table
were to be acknowledged to their brethren. The confes¬
sions of the primitive Christians were all voluntary, and
not imposed on them by any laws of the church ; yet pri¬
vate confession was not only allowed, but encouraged.
The Roman Catholic church not only requires confes¬
sion as a duty, but has advanced it to the dignity of a
sacrament. This confession, which is made to the priest,
is private and auricular ; and he is bound not to reveal it
under pain of the highest punishment.
Confession of Faith, a list of the several articles of be¬
lief in any church.
CONFESSIONAL, or Confessionary, a place in
churches under the great altar, where the bodies of de¬
ceased saints, martyrs, and confessors were deposited.
This word is also used by the Roman Catholics for a
desk in the church where the confessor takes the confes¬
sions of the penitents.
CONFESSOR, a Christian who has made a solemn and
resolute profession of the faith, and has endured torments
in its defence. A mere saint is called a confessor, to dis¬
tinguish him from the roll of dignified saints, such as
apostles, martyrs, and the like. In ecclesiastical history,
we frequently find the word confessors used for martyrs.
But in after times it was confined to those who, after
having been tormented by the tyrants, w^ere permitted
to live and die in peace; and at last it was also used for
those who, after having lived a good life, died under an
opinion of sanctity. According to St Cyprian, he who
presented himself to torture, or even to martyrdom, with¬
out being called to it, was not denominated a confessor, but
& professor; and if any, from want of courage, abandoned
his country, and became a voluntary exile for the sake of
the faith, he was called exterris.
Confessor is also a priest in the Roman Catholic
I church, who has a power to hear sinners in the sacrament
of penance, and to give them absolution. The church
calls him in Latin confessarius, to distinguish him from
confessor, which is a name consecrated to saints. The
confessors of the kings of France, from the days of Henry
IV. have been constantly Jesuits; but before his time the
Dominicans and Cordeliers shared the office between
them. The confessors of the house of Austria have also,
ordinarily, been Dominicans and Cordeliei’s ; but the later
emperors have all employed Jesuits.
CONFIGURATION, the outward figure which bounds
bodies, and gives them their external appearance; being
that which, in a great measure, constitutes the specific
difference between bodies.
CONFIRMATION, in Theology, the ceremony of lay¬
ing on of hands, for the conveyance of the Holy Ghost,
i The antiquity of this ceremony is, by all the older writers,
carried as high as the apostles, and founded upon their
example and practice. In the primitive church, it used to
be given the Christians immediately after baptism, if the
bishop happened to be present at; the solemnity. Among
the Greeks, and throughout the East, it still accompanies
baptism; but the Roman Catholics make it a distinct and
independent sacrament. Seven years is the stated time
foi confirmation; however, persons are confirmed some¬
times before and sometimes after that age. The person
to be confirmed has a godfather and godmother appoint¬
ed him, as in baptism. The order of confirmation in the
church of England does not determine the precise age of
the persons to he confirmed.
CONFLAGRATION, the general burning of a city or
Qther considerable place.
The word is commonly applied to that grand period or
catastrophe of our world when the face of nature is to be
changed by fire, as it formerly was by water. The ancient
Pythagoreans, Platonists, Epicureans, and Stoics appear
to have had a notion of the conflagration, though whence
they derived it, unless from the sacred books," it is diffi¬
cult to conceive, except perhaps it were from the Phoe¬
nicians, who themselves had it from the Jews. Seneca
says expressly, Tempus advenerit quo sidera sideribus
incurrent, et omni flagrante materia uno igne, quicquid
nunc ex deposito lucet, ardebit. This general dissolution the
Stoics call r/.rrvpuaig. Mention of the conflagration is also
made in the books of the Sibyls, in Sophocles, Hystaspes,
Ovid, Lucan, and others. Dr Burnet, after Tachard and
others, relates that the Siamese believe that the earth will
at last be parched up with heat, the mountains melted
down, and the earth’s whole surface reduced to a level,
and then consumed with fire; and the Brahmins of Siam
not only hold that the world shall be destroyed by fire,
but also that a new earth shall be made out of the cinders
of the old.
Various are the sentiments of authors on the subject of
the conflagration, the cause whence it is to arise, and the
effects which it is to produce. Divines ordinarily account
for it metaphysically, and will have it take its rise from a
miracle, as fire from heaven. Philosophers contend for its
being produced from natural causes, and will have it ef¬
fected according to the laws of mechanics. Some think
an eruption of the central fire sufficient for the purpose,
and add, that this may be occasioned in several ways,
either by having its intensity increased, which again may
be effected by its being driven into less space by the en¬
croachments of the superficial cold, or by an increase of
the inflammability of the fuel by which it is fed, or by
having the resistance of the imprisoning earth weakened,
which may happen either from the diminution of its mat¬
ter, by the consumption of its central parts, or by weaken¬
ing the cohesion of the constituent part of the mass by
excess or defect of moisture. Others look for the cause
of the conflagration in the atmosphere, and suppose that
some of the meteors there engendered in unusual quanti¬
ties, and exploded with unusual vehemence, from the con¬
currence of various circumstances, may effect it, without
seeking any further. The astrologers account for it from
a conjunction of all the planets in the sign Cancer, as the
deluge, according to them, was occasioned by their con¬
junction in Capricorn. Lastly, others have recourse to a
still more effectual and flaming machine, and conclude
that the world is to undergo conflagration from the near
approach of a comet in its return from the sun.
CONFOLENS, an arrondissement of the department of
the Charente, in France, extending over 495 square miles.
It contains six cantons, divided into seventy communes,
with 60,525 inhabitants. The chief place, a city of the
same name, situated on the right bank of the Vienne, is
a town of some trade in cattle and corn, with 557 houses
and 2263 inhabitants. Long. 0. 43. E. Lat. 45. 55. N.
Conflagra¬
tion
II
Confolens.
212
CON
CON
Confor- CONFORMITY, in the schools, is the congruency or
mity relation of agreement between one thing and another; as
, . between the measure and the thing measured, the object
Confucius. (.jie understanding, the thing and the division thereof.
CONFUCIUS, or Cong-fu-tse, or Koung-tsee, the
most eminent and venerated of all the philosophers of
China, and a descendant of the imperial family of the dy¬
nasty of Chang, was born in the kingdom of Loo, now
called the province of Chang-tong, about 550 years before
the commencement of the Christian era, which makes
him contemporary with Pythagoras and Solon, and prior
to the days of Socrates. At an early period of life, he
gave striking proofs of uncommon talents, and these were
cultivated and improved with great assiduity under the
tuition of the ablest masters. Scarcely had he attained to
the years of maturity, when he showed himself acquainted
with all the literature of that period, and, in particular,
possessed of a comprehensive knowledge of the canonical
and classical books, ascribed to the legislators Yao and
Chun, which the Chinese emphatically denominate the
Five Volumes, as containing the essence of all their sci¬
ences and morality. Nature had bestowed upon him a
most amiable temper, and his moral deportment was alto¬
gether unexceptionable. He acquired a distinguished re¬
putation for humility, sincerity, the government of his ap¬
petites, a disinterested heart, and a sovereign contempt
of wealth ; qualities which pointed him out as a proper
person to fill offices of importance and trust in the govern¬
ment of his country, which he did with honour to himself
and advantage to the empire. These public stations afford¬
ed him excellent opportunities of estimating with accu¬
racy the true state of morals among his countrymen, which
at this time were dissolute and vicious in the extreme. He
conceived the idea of attempting a general reformation
both in morals and in politics, and his efforts for some time
were attended with such effect, that he inspired his coun¬
trymen with a veneration for his character, and gratitude
for his exertions. He was raised to a station of high im¬
portance in the province of Loo. His counsels and advice
were productive of the most beneficial consequences in esta¬
blishing good order, the due exercise ol justice, concord,
and decorum throughout the whole kingdom. As the pro¬
vince thus became an object of admiration, so, likewise,
neighbouring princes beheld with envy its growing happi¬
ness and prosperity, to destroy which they contrived a fa¬
tal and effectual expedient. The king of Tsi being appre¬
hensive that if the king of Loo continued to be directed
by the wisdom and sound policy of Confucius, he would
soon become by far too powerful, sent him and his nobi¬
lity a present of the most beautiful young women, trained
up from infancy in all the arts of seduction, and who were
but too successful in plunging the whole court into volup¬
tuousness and dissipation. This in a short time demolished
the whole of that beautiful fabric which had been erected
by Confucius; and finding it a hopeless attempt to stem the
universal torrent of corruption and depravity, he resolved
to exert his talents in some distant kingdom, in the philan¬
thropic cause of moral reformation, with better hopes of
success. But he had the mortification to discover that vice
was everywhere triumphant, while virtue was compelled to
hide her head. This induced him to adopt the more hum¬
ble, although not the less interesting employment of a teach¬
er of youth, in which he made great and rapid progress.
About six hundred of his scholars were sent into different
parts of the empire to carry on his favourite work of mo¬
ral reformation. Among his disciples, seventy-two were
remarkably distinguished above the rest for their mental
acquisitions, and ten others were deemed superior even to
these, as having a thorough comprehension of their master s
whole system. These were divided by him into four classes;
the first being destined to the study of the moral virtues ;Confc.
the second to the arts of logic and of public speaking; the '-y
third class studied jurisprudence and the duties of the civil
magistrate ; and public speaking, or the delivery of popular
discourses on moral topics, occupied the fourth. Indefati¬
gable, however, as his labours were, the task was too mighty
to be acomplished by human exertions. During his last
illness, he declared to his pupils, that the grief of his mind
occasioned by the profligacy of human nature had become
insupportable ; and with a melancholy voice he exclaimed,
“ Immense mountain, how art thou fallen ! The grand ma¬
chine is demolished, and the wise and the virtuous are no
The kings will not follow my maxims: I am no
more.  —D-
longer useful on earth ; it is, therefore, time that I should
quit it.” On uttering these words he was seized with a le¬
thargy, which brought him to the grave. He finished his
honourable career in the seventy-second year of his age, in
his native kingdom, to which he had returned in company
with his disciples. It is frequently the fate of illustrious
characters never to be properly valued till after they are cut
off by death. This was the case with Confucius. The
whole empire of China bewailed the loss of him, and erect¬
ed innumerable edifices to perpetuate his memory, adorn¬
ed with such honourable inscriptions as the following:
“ To the great master;” “ To the chief doctor ;” “ To the
saint;” “ To the wise king of literature ;” “ To the in¬
structor of emperors and kings.” All his descendants,
even to the present day, enjoy the honourable title and
office of mandarins, and are exempted from the payment
of taxes to the emperor, as well as to the princes of the
blood. The man who applies for the title of doctor must
previously have made a present to a mandarin descended
in a direct line from Confucius. The writings of this great
man are esteemed by the Chinese as of the highest autho¬
rity, next to the Five Volumes, to which he modestly ac¬
knowledges himself to have been much indebted. His
works are, 1. The Tayhio, “ The Grand Science, or School
of Adults,” chiefly intended for the information of princes
and magistrates, recommending the duties of self-govern¬
ment and uniform obedience to the laws of right reason;
2. The Chong-yong, or “ Immutable Medium,” in which he
shows its importance in the government of the passions
by a variety of examples, and points out the method of ar¬
riving at perfection in virtue; 3. Lung-yu, or moral and
sententious discourses, which exhibit a lively picture of
the opinions, conduct, and maxims of Confucius and his
followers ; 4. Meng-tsi, the book of Mencius, which derived
its name from one of that great philosopher’s disciples.
These are all deservedly esteemed by the Chinese, being
held next in importance to the Five Volumes. 5. The
Hyau-hing, or dissertation on the duty and respect which
children owe their parents ; and, 6. The Syan-hyo, or
science for children, being a judicious collection of moral
sentences from various writers.
If a fair and impartial estimate of the religion of Confu¬
cius be made, it cannot be viewed in any other light than
as uncorrupted deism, although he has sometimes been
accused of befriending and secretly propagating atheisti¬
cal sentiments ; but such an accusation is as cruel as it is
unjust, since the purity of his moral precepts, and the ac¬
knowledged rectitude of his whole deportment, are utter¬
ly incompatible with such a supposition. He considered
the Tien or Deity as the purest and most perfect essence,
principle, and source of all things in the boundless uni¬
verse ; as a being who is absolutely independent, omnipo¬
tent, the governor and guardian of every thing; possessed
of infinite wisdom, which nothing can deceive ; holy, with¬
out partiality, of unlimited goodness and inflexible justice.
We are at a loss to form any adequate opinion of his senti¬
ments relative to the soul of man and the doctrine of futu-
r
CON
mfuim-rity, having no well authenticated data on which to pro-
^ p ceed. But his morality is in many respects superior to
that of Greece and Rome, and yields to none upon earth,
except to that of divine revelation. The religion of Con¬
fucius, notwithstanding the estimation in which he is held,
is adopted as a model by none of his countrymen, the lite¬
rati excepted. Their prevailing system is a medley of pa¬
gan idolatry, and the fabulous superstition of the Indians,
introduced into China by Fo in the first century of the
Christian era.
CONFUSION, in a general sense, is opposed to order,
in the disturbance of which confusion consists; as Avhen
things prior in nature do not precede, or posterior do not
follow.
Confusion of Tongues, in the history of mankind, is a
memorable event, which, according to the Hebrew chro¬
nology, happened in the one hundred and first year, and
according to the Samaritan, in the four hundred and first
year after the flood, at the overthrow of Babel; and which
was providentially brought about in order to facilitate the
dispersion of mankind and the population of the earth.
Until this period there had been but one common lan¬
guage, which formed a bond of union that prevented the
separation of mankind into distinct nations ; and some have
supposed that the tower of Babel was erected as a kind of
fortress, by which the people intended to defend them¬
selves against that separation which Noah had projected.
There has been considerable difference of opinion as to
the nature of this confusion, and the manner in which it
was effected. Some learned men, prepossessed with the
notion that all the different idioms now in the world at
first arose from one original language to which they may
be reduced, and that the variety which exists among them
is no more than must naturally have happened in a long
course of time by the mere separation of the builders of
Babel, have maintained that there were no new languages
formed at the confusion, but that this event was accom¬
plished by creating a misunderstanding and variance
among the builders, without any immediate influence on
their languages. But this opinion, which was advanced
by Le Clerc, seems to be directly contrary to the obvious
meaning of the word nsa?, shapha, “ lip,” used by the sa¬
cred historian. Others have imagined that the separation
was brought about by a temporary confusion of their
speech, or rather of their apprehensions, which caused
them, whilst they continued together and spoke the same
language, to understand the words differently. Scaliger
is of the same opinion. Others, again, account for this
event by the privation of all language, and by supposing
that mankind were under a necessity of associating toge¬
ther, and of imposing new names on things by common
consent. Another opinion ascribes the confusion to such
an indistinct remembrance of the original language which
they spoke before, as made them speak it differently ; so
that, by the various inflexions, terminations, and pronun¬
ciations of different dialects, they could no more under¬
stand one another than they who understand Latin can
understand those who speak French, Italian, or Spanish,
though all these languages arise out of it. This opinion
is adopted by Casaubon, and by Bishop Patrick in his
Commentary, and is certainly much more probable than
either of the former. Mr Shuckford, however, maintains
that the confusion arose from small beginnings, by the in¬
vention of new words in any of the three families of Shem,
Ham, and Japhet, which might contribute to separate
them from one another; and that in each family new dif-
ferences of speech might gradually arise, so that they went
on to divide and subdivide among themselves. Others,
again, as Mr Mede and Dr Wotton, not satisfied with
either ot the foregoing methods of accounting for the di-
CON 213
versity of languages among mankind, have recourse to an Confuta-
extraordinary interposition of divine power, by which new Bon
languages were framed and communicated to different r li .
families, through a supernatural infusion or inspiration;
which languages have been the roots and originals from
which the several dialects that are, or have been, or will
be spoken as long as this earth shall last, have arisen or
will arise, and to which they may with ease be reduced.
As to the number of languages thus introduced, many
opinions have been adopted. If there were no more than
there were nations or heads of nations, then the number
would be seven for Japhet, four for Ham, and five for
Shem ; but if there were as many as there were families,
which is the more probable opinion, their number cannot
be certainly assigned. However, the Hebrews fancy they
were seventy, because the descendants from the sons of
Noah, enumerated in Genesis, were just so many. Allow¬
ing, then, the languages of the chief families to have been
fundamentally different from each other, the sub-languages
and dialects within each branch would probably have had
a mutual affinity, greater or less as these families settled
nearer or farther from each other. But whichsoever of these
hypotheses is adopted, the primary object of the confusion
at Babel was the separation and dispersion of mankind.
Dr Bryant, in the third volume of his Analysis of An¬
cient Mythology, has advanced a singular hypothesis, both
with respect to the confusion of tongues and the disper¬
sion of mankind. He supposes that the confusion of lan¬
guage was local and partial, and limited to Babel only.
By inxnbn (Gen. xi. 1 and 8), which our translators ren¬
der the whole earth, he understands every region; and by
the same words (in verse 9), the whole region or province.
This confusion was occasioned, as he supposes, by a labial
failure; so that the people could not articulate. Thus
their speech was confounded, but not altered; for as soon
as they separated, they recovered the true tenor of pro¬
nunciation, and the language of the earth continued for
some ages nearly the same. The interviews between the
Hebrews and other nations recorded in Scripture were
conducted without an interpreter; and he further ob¬
serves, that the various languages which subsist at this
day retain sufficient relation to show that they were once
dialects from the same matrix, and that their variety was
the effect of time.
CONFUTATION, in Rhetoric, a part of an oration, in
which the orator seconds his own arguments and strength¬
ens his cause by refuting and destroying the opposite ar¬
guments of the antagonist. This is done by denying what
is apparently false, by detecting some flaw in the reason¬
ing of the adverse party, by granting their argument, and
showing its invalidity from its consequences, or retorting
it upon the adversary.
CONGE d’Elire, in ecclesiastical policy, the king’s
permission-royal to a dean and chapter in the time of a va¬
cancy, to choose a bishop; or to an abbey or priory, of his
own foundation, to choose an abbot or prior.
The king of England, as sovereign patron of all arch¬
bishoprics, bishoprics, and other ecclesiastical benefices,
had of ancient time free appointment of all ecclesiastical
dignities, whenever they chanced to become vacant; in¬
vesting them first per hacculum et annulum, and after¬
wards by his letters patent: and in course of time he
made over the election to others, under certain forms and
limitations, as that they should at every vacation, before
they choose, demand the king’s conge d elire, and after the
election crave his royal assent.
CONGELATION. See the article Cold.
CONGERIES, a Latin word, sometimes used in our
language for a collection or heap of particles of bodies
united in one mass or aggregate.
214 CON CON
Congieton CONGLETON, a town in the parish of Astbury, and the cultivation of the ordinary articles of food, but it is of C(
ll hundred of Northwick, in Cheshire, 162 miles from Lon- an indifferent description. Beyond these masses of mica- W
Congo. tjon_ ^ great trade in silk is carried on at this place, and slate the geological character of the country changes. Ihe
t]iere js a market on Saturday. The inhabitants amount- granite hills give way to those of limestone, and numerous
ed in 1801 to 3861, in 1811 to 4616, and in 1821 to 6405. promontories of marble project into the river, with fertile
CONGO, a country of considerable extent, in the south- vales between them. I he whole country, according to
west of Africa. It is bounded on the north by the river Captain luckey, wore a more inviting aspect as they pe-
Congo or Zaire, which separates it from Loango, and on netrated into the interior, and towns and villages followed
the west by the Atlantic. The interior boundaries are each other in rapid succession far beyond the Congo ter-
very uncertain, but it is conjectured that the country ex- ritory. But the sickly state oi the pai ty put a stop to the
tends several hundred miles in every direction. lo the expedition, just as the improved condition of tne country
south are situated the countries of Angola and Benguela; held out a prospect of its complete success. . _
while the eastern frontier is said to be composed of high In none of the journals kept by these enterprising indi-
and rugged mountains, inhabited by the savage tribe of viduals is the climate complained of; on the contrary, they
the Giao-as, whose predatory inroads into the territory of speak of the atmosphere as being cool, dry, and refreshing.
Congo are frequent and destructive. A westerly breeze sets in from the Atlantic a few hours after
Comm was discovered, in 1487, by the Portuguese, who sunset, and continues till midnight, thus materially cooling
sent over successive bodies of troops and missionaries to and purifying the air. Of course much depends upon loca-
subju^ate and Christianize the inhabitants, riieir writers lity, and accordingly at different situations, and these not
have 'transmitted to us exaggerated accounts of the vast very far apart, the range of the thermometer m the shade
numbers of the natives, of the great victories which were at noon showed a difference sometimes of thirty degrees,
obtained over them, and also of their having been finally The winter in Congo is compared to the mild spring or
brought under the yoke. The missionaries,"likewise, with autumn of Italy ; it is not subject to heavy rams, but every
equal disregard for truth, extolled the splendour and civi- morning the earth is fertilized by falls of dew.
lization of the country. One of them states that the king The vegetable productions of this country are various,
could muster an army of 900,000 men, and that he actu- for the most valuable of which the natives are indebted
ally opposed the Portuguese with 80,000, who were com- to the Portuguese. The staple products are^ manioc or
pletely overthrown by 400 Europeans and 2000 negroes, cassava, yams, and maize. To these may be added, sweet
These accounts go a great way beyond even probability, potatoes, pumpkins, millet of two or three species, cala-
Of its former pooulation and splendour neither trace nor vanses, cabbages, spinach, pepper, capsicum, the sugar-
tradition remains ; and of the benefits which resulted to cane, and tobacco. Of fruits they have the plantain, pa-
the inhabitants from their intercourse with Christians, paw, oranges, limes, and pine apples. Ihe only beverage
the evidences which existed when Captain Tuckey visit- used by the inhabitants, except when they fall in with
ed the place, vrere a few- forts and factories for carrying European spirits, of which they are extremely fond, is the
on the slave trade, and some crucifixes, which were not juice of the palm tree, which goes by the name of palm
however held in equal veneration with their own Pagan wine. It is of three different kinds, and was found by the
fetiches. Until the expedition sent out by the British party to be a very refreshing and wholesome liquor,
government, under the above-named officer, to explore There is a sufficiency of domestic animals for food, but
the river Congo to its source, we had no information re- very little care appears to be bestowed upon them. Ihey
specting the country which could at all be depended upon, consist chiefly of goats, hogs, fowls, the common and Mus-
It is to him, therefore, and to his scientific companions, covy duck, and pigeons. . Ihere are also a few sheep,
that we are indebted for the facts contained in the follow- which have a coat of hair instead of wool. No beasts of
ing account of this region of the globe ; and it only relates burden of any description were found in the country. Of
to^that portion of Congo which is contiguous to the Zaire, wild animals there is a great variety, hut from the inuo-
In the general appearance of its surface, in its natural lent habits of the natives they have never been converted
products, and in the state of society and the condition of to any useful purpose. Elephants, leopards, buffaloes,
the native inhabitants, this country is by no means so in- monkeys, and numerous species of antelopes, abound,
teresting as many other parts of Africa. Along the sides There are also various other kinds of quadrupeds in abun-
of the river the mountains are numerous, but not high ; dance, and a plentiful supply of wild fowl. Ihe country
the most elevated probably do not exceed two thousand appears to be remarkably free from those noxious insects
feet. These are destitute of vegetation, with the excep- which swarm almost universally in tropical climates ; fleas,
tion of a few rank grasses; and the lesser ranges of hills bugs, and black ants must, however, be excepted. Ihe
are without those gigantic and wide-spreading forests lower part of the river abounds in excellent fish, of whicn
which we might expect to find in such a climate; only a bream, mullet, and cat-fish are the most abundant. Num-
few large trees are scattered upon their sides and sum- hers of the natives gain a livelihood by fishing for taese,
mils. Between the bases of these hills, however, and the and also in dragging for a shell-fish which bears a resera-
margins of the river, the alluvial banks, which extend from blance to the clam. The river swarms with hippopotami,
the mouth to a considerable distance upwards, are clothed and alligators, or rather crocodiles : the flesh of the former
with exuberant vegetation, presenting to the eye one con- is excellent food, though but little used,
tinuous forest of majestic trees, covered with ever-green The principal articles of subsistence, at least in the dry
foliage. The river is studded with numerous islands, which season, appear to be manioc, ground nuts, and palm wines,
are mantled with the thick mangrove, intermingled with Yams and Indian corn are also used; of the latter they
the tall and elegant palm, whilst others are covered with have regularly two crops a year. Animal food is not in
the Egyptian papyrus. The alluvial flats are succeed- very general use, although sold in the daily market he
ed by naked and precipitous mountains, resting on mica- at Embamma. The negroes are exceedingly filthy m their
ceous slate, which forms the two hanks of the river for preparation and eating of animal food. Ihe fowls are
at least fifty miles; the only interruption to this range of broiled with the feathers unplucked, and pieces of goat,
heights being a few narrow ravines, in which the villages without the skin or even the hair being removed ; an
of the natives are situated. Many of the hills are also they are devoured voraciously when scarcely warm. Lanni-
crowned with small villages, and the soil is sufficient for balism, however, appears to be totally unknown in Congo.
1 o
CON
None of the villages seen by the party were of great
L extent, the largest apparently not exceeding one hundred
huts. Embamma, Cooloo, and Juga, are each the resi¬
dence of a Chenoo, a sort of petty sovereign of a district:
the first consisted of about sixty huts, exclusively of the
Chenoo’s residence, and about five hundred inhabitants ;
the second of one hundred huts, and from five to six hun¬
dred inhabitants ; and the third of seventy huts, and
about three hundred inhabitants. Their huts are formed
of mats woven from a reedy grass, or the fibres of plants,
six pieces of which, being put together, compose the house.
That of the Chenoo, however, is formed more skilfully of
palm leaves, and encompassed with a fence of reeds. The
villages are usually embosomed in the midst of palms and
other lofty trees. The household furniture and utensils,
in simplicity and rudeness, are on a par with the domestic
inclosures. Baskets are made of the fibres of the palm tree ;
bowls and bottles of gourds and other vegetables, for hold¬
ing provisions and water ; earthen vessels of home manu¬
facture, for boiling their victuals, with wooden spoons to
eat them ; while a mat of grass thrown on a raised platform
constitutes their only bedding. The articles of dress are
equally primitive, the common people being satisfied with
a small apron tied round their loins, and ornamented caps
made of grass. Rings of brass or iron enclasp the arms
and ancles, and sometimes bracelets of lions’ teeth are
used. The women in general adorn their necks, arms, and
legs with strings of beads.
For agricultural purposes, a rude hoe is the principal or
only implement in use; but a slight scratch on the sur¬
face of the ground is sufficient for securing a good crop
in that propitious climate. The natives make no provision
for future contingencies, such as a year of scarcity; they
only raise what will exactly meet their wants until the
usual harvest time comes round. This, it would appear,
arises principally from indolence, and not from a distrust
in the right and security of property. This is so well un¬
derstood by them, that almost all their disputes arise from
their tenacity in the division of property, whether in land
or stock, which is frequently so minute, that it is not un¬
common to see a fowl or a pig partitioned amongst three
or four proprietors.
The paramount sovereign of Congo resides at a place of
the same name, situated at about six days’ journey into
the interior. This place is supposed to be the St Salva¬
dor of the Portuguese, but it was not visited by Captain
Tuckey; and he thinks that the existence of the sovereign
is somewhat apocryphal. Keeping out of view this regal
personage, society in Congo appears to consist, first, of the
Chenoo; secondly, of the members of his family; thirdly, of
! the Mafooks; fourthly, of the Foomoos; fifthly, of the fisher¬
men, coolies, and labouring people ; and, sixthly, of the do¬
mestic slaves. The title and authority of the Chenoo are
hereditary in the female line ; none of his sons can inherit
unless the mother be of royal blood. The Chenoo is little
distinguished from his subjects by dress or accommodation,
and his ensign of office consists of a rod of black wood
inlaid with lead or copper. The daughter of the Chenoo
chooses her own husband, over whom she has sovereign
control, and can sell into slavery if she pleases. The mem¬
bers of the royal family are the Chenoo’s councillors, by
whose advice he acts in all matters of consequence. The
Mafooks are the collectors of the revenue, who begin their
career as interpreters, and having realized what is there
considered a competency, are entitled to pass into the
higher grade of tax-gatherers. The Foomoos are those who
possess houses and lands of their own, with two or three
wives, and perhaps a few slaves to work for them. They
would appear to be the yeomanry of the country. The
fishermen and labourers have no fixed property of their
CON
own, and are therefore much at the disposal of the Che¬
noo. I he domestic slaves are not numerous, and are not
considered as transferable property, unless they are found
guilty of some serious crime.
i he natives of Congo are about the middle size, and
they have in a somewhat less degree both the black colour
and the characteristic features of the race. ‘ Their phy¬
siognomy is pleasing, and said to bear the stamp of sim¬
plicity and innocence. Ihey are lively, good-humoured,
and hospitable to strangers. In energy and reflection they
appear to be below the other African tribes, and their ha¬
bits of indolence are inveterate. This forms the chief bar
to the progress of improvement throughout the continent.
As is generally the case amongst an uncivilized people,
the most laborious offices are here performed by the weak¬
er sex. Every man has wives in proportion to his rank;
the Chenoo has sometimes fifty. But the most scanda¬
lous part of their conduct consists in the traffic made with
the virtue of their females, whose moral impressions are
also very w'eak, and they thus offer no resistance, but ra¬
ther glory in the disgraceful practice. A glass of rum or
a few beads is sufficient to secure the favours of the first
women in the country. A case of thieving came under the
notice of Captain Tuckey, but he is in favour of their ge¬
neral honesty. The atrocious crime of poisoning, however,
evidently prevails amongst them.
\V ith respect to religion, the Congoese are Pagans of the
lowest description. A fetiche (from the Portuguese fetico,
signifying a charm, witchcraft, magic) is a sort of tutelary
deity, and seems to be the Alpha and Omega of their vene¬
ration. Any thing serves for a fetiche; the guardian ge¬
nius is not fastidious about the symbol which recognises
his existence; the beak of a bird, the fin of a fish, or the
hoof of a quadruped, answers the purpose perfectly well.
The making of these fetiches is carried on as a trade by a
certain class of men, who may be styled the priesthood" of
the country. These ridiculous appendages are considered
as absolutely necessary for guaranteeing the safety of the
houses and persons of the negroes, and they are looked
upon as talismans of infallible efficacy in preventing every
evil to which human nature is liable. The fetiche is em¬
ployed in the discovery of theft. For this purpose it is ex¬
posed in some public place, when the people of the village
dance round it, and with hideous yells call upon it either
to reveal the thief, or to oblige him to deposit in some
fixed place the article stolen, under the penalty of de¬
struction to himself and his relations. The restoration of
the stolen article seldom fails to ensue after this public ex¬
hibition. The Congoese have but a very vague idea of a
good and evil principle, or a future state ; and the fetiche
system seems to constitute the religion of the country.
With respect to the number of the inhabitants, it is impos¬
sible to form even a conjecture.
Congo, or Zaire, a large river of Africa, which falls into
the Atlantic Ocean in about the thirteenth degree of south
latitude. From the volume of water which it discharges
into the ocean, the length of its course, the greater part
of which is still unknown, or the rapidity of its current, it
must be ranked amongst the first class of rivers. It was
for a length of time surmised that the Niger and the Con¬
go were identically the same river. This opinion, however,
has been exploded by the discovery of the termination of
the former river by the Messrs Lander. But the source
of the latter still remains as a problem to be solved by the
enterprise of travellers. The breadth of the Congo at its
m<}uth is about ten or twelve miles; and its depth is ex¬
traordinary, no bottom having been found by Captain
Tuckey, who sounded it with a line of 113 fathoms. Its
breadth at 140 miles from its mouth continues to be from
two to three miles. At this point the narrows commence,
'
216
CON
CON
Congoon
II
Congress.
when the river contracts to from three to five hundred
yards in breadth, and this continues for a very consider¬
able distance upwards. The banks are lined with bristling
rocks, which in several places shoot in ledges across the
bed of the river, and form rapids or cataracts. It is only,
however, during the periodical floods that the lowest and
most formidable of these deserves the name of cataract.
Beyond these mountainous regions the Congo again ex¬
pands to the breadth of two, three, or even four miles,
and flows with a current of from two to three miles an
hour. At the place where Captain Tuckey relinquished
his journey, which was about 280 miles from Cape Pedron,
on the sea-coast, the banks were clothed with luxuriant
vegetation. Beyond this limit nothing certain is known of
its course ; but the natives stated that there was no ob¬
stacle to its continued navigation, with the exception of a
rapid, which, however, was passable by canoes.
CONGOON, a town of Laristan, in Persia, situated on
the northern shore of the Persian Gulf. It contains six
or seven thousand inhabitants, and has an excellent road¬
stead, where a frigate may ride in safety in the most tem¬
pestuous weather. Good water and firewood, which are
both scarce in the gulf, may be procured at this place.
Long. 52. 5. E. Lat. 27. 50. N.
CONGREGATION, an assembly of several ecclesias¬
tics, united so as to constitute a body.
The term is principally used to signify assemblies'of car¬
dinals appointed by the pope, and distributed into several
chambers, for the discharge of certain functions and juris-
flictions, after the manner of our offices and courts. The
first is the congregation of the holy office, or the inquisi¬
tion ; the second that of jurisdiction over bishops and re¬
gulars ; the third that of councils, which has power to in¬
terpret the Council of Trent; the fourth that of customs,
ceremonies, precedencies, canonizations, called the congre¬
gation of rites; the fifth that of St Peter’s fabric, which
takes cognizance of all causes relating to piety and cha¬
rity, part of which is due to the church of St Peter; the
sixth, that of waters, rivers, roads; the seventh that of foun¬
tains and streets; the eighth that of the index, which
examines the books to be printed or corrected ; the ninth
that of the council of state, for the management of the
territories belonging to the pope and church; the tenth,
de hono regimim, the cardinal nephew being the chief of
this and the preceding one ; the eleventh that of money ;
the twelfth that of bishops, in which those who are to be
promoted to bishoprics in Italy are examined, and which
is held before the pope; the thirteenth that of consis-
torial matters, the chief of which is the cardinal dean ; the
fourteenth a congregation for propagating the faith : and
the fifteenth that of ecclesiastical immunity, for settling
suits against churchmen. There is also a congregation of
alms, which takes care of every thing that relates to the
subsistence of Rome and the state of the church.
Congregation is also used to signify a company or so¬
ciety of religious persons cantoned out of this or that order,
and forming, as it were, an inferior order, or a subdivision
of the order itself. Such are the congregations of the
oratory, and those of Cluny, and so on, among the Bene¬
dictines.
The word is also applied to assemblies of pious persons
in the manner of fraternities, frequent among the Jesuits,
in honour of the Virgin, &c.
It is likewise applied to the audience in a church, parti¬
cularly as consisting of the inhabitants of the same parish.
CONGREGATIONALISTS, in Church History, a sect
of Protestants who reject all church-government, except¬
ing that of a single congregation under the direction of
one pastor.
CONGRESS, in political affairs, an assembly of com¬
missioners, envoys, or deputies, from several courts, meet- cft.
ing to concert matters for their common good.
Congress, in America, is the assembly of delegateslV
from the United States. See United States. U
CONGREVE, William, a younger brother of an an¬
cient family in Staffordshire. His father was employed
in the stewardship of the great estate of the Earl of Bur¬
lington in Ireland, where he resided many years, and where
our author was born in the year 1672. Mr Congreve, when
he came to England, entered into the Middle Temple,
and began to study the law ; but his bias was toward polite
literature and poetry. His first performance was a novel
entitled Incognita, or Love and Duty reconciled. He soon
afterwards began his comedy of the Old Bachelor, which
was the amusement of some leisure hours during a slow
recovery from a fit of illness ; yet was in itself so perfect,
that Mr Dryden, on its being shown to him, declared he
had never in his life seen such a first play. When brought
on the stage in 1693, it met with such universal approba¬
tion that Mr Congreve, although he was but nineteen years
old at the time when he wrote it, came to be considered |
as a prop of the declining stage, and a rising genius in
dramatic poetry. The next year he produced the Double
Dealer, which, for reasons which are not so obvious, did
not meet with so much success as the former. The merit
of his first play, however, had obtained him the favour and
patronage of Lord Halifax, and some peculiar mark of
distinction from Queen Mary; on whose death, which hap¬
pened in the close of this year, he wrote a very elegant
elegiac pastoral. In 1695, when Betterton opened the
new house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, Mr Congreve having
joined him, produced his comedy of Love for Love, with
which the company opened their campaign, and which met
with such success that they immediately offered the au¬
thor a share in the management of the house, on condi¬
tion of his furnishing them with one play yearly. This
offer he accepted ; but whether through indolence, or from
anxiety about correctness, which he looked upon as neces¬
sary'' to his works, his Mourning Bride did not appear till
1697, nor his Way of the World till two years afterwards.
The indifferent success which this last-mentioned play,
though an exceedingly good one, met with from the pub¬
lic, completed that disgust for the theatre which a long
contest with Jeremy Collier, who had attacked the immo¬
ralities of the English stage, and more especially some of
his pieces, had begun to produce, and he determined never
more to write for the stage. However, though he quitted
dramatic writing, he did not lay down the pen entirely,
but occasionally wrote many little pieces both in prose and
verse, all of which have been preserved as memorials of
this celebrated dramatist. It is very possible, however,
that he might not so soon have given way to this disgust,
had not the easiness of his circumstances rendered any
subservience to the opinions and caprice of the town ab¬
solutely unnecessary to him ; for his abilities having very
early in life raised him to the acquaintance of the Earl of
Halifax, who was then the Mecaenas of the age, that
nobleman, desirous of raising so promising a genius above
the necessity of too hasty productions, made him one of
the commissioners for licensing hackney coaches, or, ac¬
cording to Coxeter, a commissioner of the wine license.
Lord Halifax also bestowed on him a place in the pipe of¬
fice, and not long afterwards gave him a post in the cus¬
toms worth L.600 per annum, wffiile, in the year 1718, he
was appointed secretary of Jamaica ; so that his income,
towards the latter part of his life, was upwards of L.1200
a year.
The greater part of the last twenty years of his life was
spent in ease and retirement; and he either ceased, or a -
fected not to give himself any trouble about reputation.
m
ngrr
CON
CON
, Yet this conduct might in part proceed from a degree of
pride ; and T. Cibber, in his Lives of the Poets, relates the
following anecdote of him : “ When the celebrated Voltaire
was in England, he waited upon Mr Cbngreve, and passed
some compliments upon the merit and reputation of his
works, Congreve thanked him, but at the same time told
that ingenious foreigner, that he did not choose to be con¬
sidered as an author, but only as a private gentleman, and
in that light expected to be visited. Voltaire answered,
that if he had never been any thing but a private gentle¬
man, in all probability he had never been troubled with
that visit.” He observes, in his own account of the trans¬
action, that he was not a little disgusted with so unseason¬
able a piece of vanity.
Towards the close of his life he was much afflicted with
gout; and, making a tour to Bath for the benefit of the
waters, he was unfortunately overturned in his chariot,
by which it is supposed he got some inward bruise, as he
ever after complained of a pain in his side, and, on his
return to London, continued gradually declining in his
health, till the 19th of January 1729, when he died, at the
age of fifty-seven. On the 26th of the same month, he was
buried in Westminster Abbey, the pall being supported
by persons of the first distinction.
“ Congreve,” says Dr Johnson, “ has merit of the high¬
est kind. He is an original writer, who borrowed neither
the models of his plot, nor the manner of his dialogue.
He formed a peculiar idea of comic excellence, which he
supposed to consist in gay remarks and unexpected an¬
swers ; but that which he endeavoured, he seldom failed of
performing. His scenes exhibit not much of humour,
imagery, or passion ; his personages are a kind of intel¬
lectual gladiators ; every sentence is to ward or to strike ;
the contest of smartness is never intermitted ; his w it is
a meteor playing to and fro with alternate coruscations.
His comedies have therefore, in some degree, the opera¬
tion of tragedies; they surprise rather than divert, and
raise admiration oftener than merriment. But they are
the works of a mind replete with images, and quick in
combination.” It may be added, that their licentiousness
and immorality have been severely but justly censured.
Of Congreve’s miscellaneous poetry nothing favourable
can be said. His powers seem to desert him when he
leaves the stage, and he becomes feeble, impotent, and
dull, without elevation of fancy, selection of language, or
skill in versification.
There is an elegant edition of his works, in three volumes
8vo, printed by Baskerville in 1761.
CONGRU1TY, a suitableness or relation of agreement
between things.
The terms congruity and propriety are not applicable to
any single object; they imply a plurality, and obviously
signify a particular relation between different objects.
Thus we are accustomed to say, that a decent garb is suit¬
able or proper for a judge, modest behaviour for a young
woman, and a lofty style for an epic poem ; and, on the
other hand, that it is unsuitable or incongruous to see a
little woman sunk in an overgrown farthingale, a coat rich¬
ly embroidered covering coarse and dirty linen, a mean
subject in a pompous style, an elevated subject in mean
language, a first minister darning his wife’s stocking, or a
reverend prelate in lawn sleeves dancing a hornpipe.
The perception we have of this relation, which seems
peculiar to man, cannot proceed from any other cause
than a sense ol congruity or propriety; for, supposing us
destitute ot this sense, the terms would be to us unintel¬
ligible.
It is a matter of experience that congruity or propriety,
wherever perceived, is agreeable; and that incongruity
or impropriety, wherever perceived, is disagreeable. The
VOL. VII.
217
only difficulty is to ascertain what are the particular objects
which in conjunction suggest these relations; for there
are many objects that do not. The sea, for example, view¬
ed in conjunction with a picture, or a man viewred in con¬
junction with a mountain, suggest not either congruity or
incongruity. It seems natural to infer, what indeed will be
found true by induction, that we never perceive congruity
or incongruity except among things which are connected
together by some relation ; such as a man and his actions,
a principal and his accessories, a subject and its orna¬
ments. We are indeed so framed by nature, that things
thus connected require a certain suitableness or correspon¬
dence, termed congruity or propriety ; and hence we feel
displeasure when we discover the opposite relation oiincon¬
gruity or impropriety.
If things connected be the subject of congruity, it is
reasonable to expect that a degree of congruity propor¬
tioned to the degree of the connexion should be required ;
and, upon examination, we find this to be fact. Where the
relation is intimate, as between a cause and its effect, a
whole and its parts, we require the strictest congruity;
but where the relation is slight or accidental, as among
things jumbled together in the same place, we require little
or no congruity. The strictest propriety is required in
behaviour and manner of living, because a man is connect¬
ed with these by the relation of cause and effect. The
relation between an edifice and the ground it stands upon
is of the most intimate kind; and, therefore, the situation
of a great house ought to be lofty; its relation to neigh¬
bouring hills, rivers, plains, being that of propinquity only,
demands but a small share of congruity. Among mem¬
bers of the same club the congruity ought to be consider¬
able, as well as among things placed for show in the same
niche ; among passengers in a stage-coach we require very
little congruity, and less still at a public spectacle.
Congruity is so nearly allied to beauty, as commonly to
be held a species of it; and yet they differ so essentially
as never to coincide. Beauty, like colour, is placed upon
a single subject; congruity upon a plurality; and a thing
beautiful in itself may, with relation to other things, pro¬
duce the strongest sense of incongruity.
Congruity and propriety are commonly reckoned syno¬
nymous terms, but they are distinguishable, and the pre¬
cise meaning of each must be ascertained. Congruity is
the genus of which propriety is a species; for we call
nothing proper, but that congruity or suitableness which
ought to subsist between sensible beings and their thoughts,
words, and actions.
CONI, a province of the kingdom of Sardinia, on the
continent of Italy. It is bounded on the north by Saluzzo,
on the north-east and north by Mondovi, on the south by
Nice, and on the west by France. Its extent is 726 square
miles, or 464,640 English acres. A great part of the
southern and western portions of the province consists of
the chain of the Appo Mountains, and is consequently
unproductive; but the other divisions are watered by the
rivers Stura, Grana, Macra, and Gesso, and numerous
brooks, and are fruitful in corn, maize, pulse, fruit, hemp,
silk, and wine. The mountains are covered with chest¬
nut trees, whose fruit affords some part of the food of the
inhabitants. The province contains four cities, fifty-six
market-towns and large villages, and forty-one large farm¬
ing establishments.
Coni, a city of Italy, the capital of the province of the
same name. It stands on a tongue of land, formed by the
junction of the rivers Gesso and Stura. It is strongly
fortified, has several religious and other handsome public
buildings, and contains 16,500 inhabitants, who carry on a
considerable trade in various manufactures, particularly
in woollen cloths. Long. 7. 22. 8. E. Lat. 44. 23.17. N.
2 £
Coni.
218
t
CONIC SECTIONS.
INTRODUCTION.
The mathematicians of antiquity regarded the straight
line and the circle as the most simple of all geometri¬
cal lines, and the celebrated geometer Euclid has em¬
ployed no other in his well known Elements. By these
alone the ancients resolved a great number of problems,
of which the more simple are contained in Euclid’s Ele¬
ments; but many of higher difficulty were resolved in his
other writings, and in treatises of Archimedes and Apollo¬
nius, which have only in part reached our times. There is,
however, from the very nature of geometrical science, a
limit to the applicability of the straight line and circle.
Some problems admit of only one solution : these can be
resolved by the intersection of two straight lines. Others
again admit of two solutions, and such require lines which
intersect each other in two points ; theretoie they may be
resolved by the straight line and circle, or two circles. _
If, however, a problem be of such a nature as in its
most general form to admit of three solutions, it must ne¬
cessarily be determined by the intersection of two lines which
intersect each other in three points : it therefore cannot
be resolved by the straight line and circle alone. Now
the ancients had actually proposed to themselves such
problems, and in this way it may be supposed they had
discovered the necessity of admitting other lines, in addi¬
tion to the straight line and circle, into their geometry.
The interest which mankind take in mathematical spe¬
culations is but little in comparison to that which is excit¬
ed by works of poetry, oratory, or history; hence it has
happened that ancient treatises on these subjects have
had a better chance of descending to our times. It is not,
therefore, wonderful that none of the works of the more
early Greek geometers have reached us, nor have we any
work of great antiquity professedly written on the subject
of the conic sections. Our curiosity must therefore rest sa¬
tisfied with the knowledge of a few accidental notices and
facts gleaned from different authors.
The discovery of the conic sections seems to have ori¬
ginated in the school of Plato, in which geometry was
highly respected and much cultivated. It is probable that
the followers of that philosopher were led to the discovery
of these curves, and to the investigation of many of their
properties, in seeking to resolve the two famous problems
of the duplication of the cube, and the trisection of an
angle, for which the artifices of the ordinary or plane geo¬
metry were insufficient. Two solutions oi the former pro¬
blem, by the help of the conic sections, are preserved by
Eutocius,1 and are attributed by him to Memechmus, the
scholar of Eudoxus, who lived not much posterior to the
time of Plato : and this circumstance, added to a few words
in an epigram of Eratosthenes,2 has been thought sufficient
authority, by some authors, to ascribe the honour of the
discovery of the conic sections to Menaechmus. We may at
least infer that, at this epoch, geometers had made some
progress in developing the properties of these curves.
The writings of Arclumedes that have reached us expli¬
citly show that the geometers before his time had advanced
a great length in investigating the properties of the conic
sections. This author expressly mentions many principal
propositions to have been demonstrated by preceding wri¬
ters ; and he often, refers to properties of the conic sections,
as truths commonly divulged and known to mathemati- Inp
cians. Plis own discoveries in this branch of science are t;;
worthy of the most profound and inventive genius of an- 'wj
Equity. In the quadrature of the parabola he gave the
first and the most remarkable instance that has yet been
discovered, of the exact equality of a curvilinear to a rec¬
tilinear space. He determined the proportion of the ellip¬
tic spaces to the circle ; and he invented many proposi¬
tions respecting the mensuration of the solids formed by
the revolution of the conic sections about their axes.
It is chiefly from the writings of Apollonius of Perga, a
town in Pamphylia, on the subject of the conic sections,
that we know how far the ancient mathematicians carried
their speculations concerning these curves. Apollonius |
flourished under Ptolemy Philopater, about forty years
later than Archimedes. He formed his taste for geometry,
and acquired that superior skill in the science, to which he
is indebted for his fame, in the school of Alexandria, under
the successors of Euclid, Besides his great work on the
conic sections, he was the author of many smaller trea¬
tises relating chiefly to the geometrical analysis, the ori¬
ginals of which have all perished, and are only known to
modern mathematicians by the account given of them by
Pappus of Alexandria, in the seventh book of his Mathe¬
matical Collections. (See Apollonius.)
The work of Apollonius on the conic sections, written
in eight books, was held in such high estimation by the
ancients, as to procure for him the name of the great geo¬
meter. The first four books of this treatise only have come
down to us in the original Greek. It is the purpose of
these four books, as we are informed in the prefatory epistle
to Eudemus, to deliver the elements of the science; and
in this part of his labour the author claims no further
merit than that of having collected, amplified, and redu¬
ced to order, the discoveries of preceding mathematicians.
One improvement introduced by Apollonius is too remark¬
able to be passed over without notice. The geometers who
preceded him derived each curve from a right cone, which
they conceived to be cut by a plane perpendicular to its
slant side. It will readily be perceived, from what is
shown in the first section of the fourth part of the follow¬
ing treatise, that the section would be a parabola when
the vertical angle of the cone was a right angle, an ellipse
when it was acute, and a hyperbola when it was obtuse.
Thus each curve was derived from a different sort of cone.
Apollonius was the first to show that all the curves are
produced from any sort of cone, whether right or oblique,
according to the different inclinations of the cutting plane.
This fact is one remarkable instance of the adherence of
the mind to its first conceptions, and of the slowness and
difficulty with which it generalizes. <
The original of the last four books of the treatise ot
Apollonius is lost; nor is it easy to ascertain in what age it
disappeared. In the year 1658 Borelli discovered at Flo¬
rence an Arabic manuscript entitled Apollonii Pergei
Conicorum Libri Octo. By the liberality of the Duke of
Tuscany, he was permitted to carry the manuscript to
Rome, and, with the aid of an Arabic scholar, Abraham
Ecchellensis, he published in 1661 a Latin translation of
it. The manuscript, although from its title it was expecte
1 In Arch. lib. ii. Be Sph. et Cyl.
3 Hid.
CONIC SECTIONS.
219
to be a complete translation of all the eight books, 3ret was
'" found to contain only the first seven books : and it is re-
U markable, that another manuscript, brought from the East
by Golius, the learned professor of Leyden, so early as
1664i, as well as a third, of which Ravius published a trans¬
lation in 1G69, have the same defect. All the three manu¬
scripts agreeing in the want of the eighth book, we may
now consider that part of the work of Apollonius as irre¬
coverably lost. Fortunately, in the Collectiones Mathemati¬
cs of Pappus, in whose time the entire treatise of Apollo¬
nius was extant, there is preserved some account of the sub¬
jects treated in each book, and all the Lemmata required
in the investigations of the propositions they contain. Dr
Halley, who in 1710 gave a correct edition of the Conics
of Apollonius, guided in his researches by the lights de¬
rived from Pappus, has restored the eighth book with so
much ability as to leave little room to regret the original.
The last four books of the Conics of Apollonius, cqn-
taining the higher or more recondite parts of the science,
are generally supposed to be the fruit of the author’s own
researches ; and they do much honour to the geometrical
skill and invention of the great geometer. Even in our
times the whole treatise must be regarded as a very ex¬
tensive, if not a complete work on the conic sections.
Modern mathematicians make important applications of
these curves, with which the ancients were unacquainted ;
and they have been thus led to consider the subject in
particular points of view, suited to their purposes; but
they have made few discoveries of which there are not
some traces to be found in the work of the illustrious an¬
cient.
The geometers who followed Apollonius seem to have
contented themselves with the humble task of comment¬
ing on his treatise, and of rendering it of more easy access
to the bulk of mathematicians. Till about the middle of
the 16th century, the history of this branch of mathema¬
tical science presents nothing remarkable. The study of
it was then revived ; and since that time this part of ma¬
thematics has been more cultivated, or has been illustrated
by a greater variety of ingenious writings.
Among the ancients the study of the conic sections was a
subject of pure intellectual speculation. The applications
of the properties of these curves in natural philosophy
have, in modern times, given to this part of the mathe¬
matics a degree of importance that it did not formerly
possess. That which, in former times, might be consider¬
ed as interesting only to the learned theorist and profound
mathematician, is now a necessary attainment to him who
would not be ignorant of those discoveries in nature that
do the greatest honour to the present age.
It is curious to remark the progress of discovery, and
; the connexion that subsists between the different branches
of human knowledge ; and it excites some degree of ad¬
miration to reflect, that the astronomical discoveries of
, Kepler, and the sublime theory of Newton, depend on the
seemingly barren speculations of Greek geometers con¬
cerning the sections of the cone.
Apollonius, and all the writers on conic sections before
Dr Wallis, derived the elementary properties of the curves
from the nature of the cone. In the second part of his
treatise De Sectionibus Conicis, published in 1665, Dr
Wallis laid aside the consideration of the cone, deriving
the properties of the curves from a description in piano.
Since his time authors have been much divided as to the
best method of defining those curves, and demonstrating
their elementary properties; many of them preferring
that of the ancient geometers, while others, and some of
great note, have followed the example of Dr Wallis.
In support of the innovation made by Dr Wallis, it is
urged, that in the ancient manner of treating the conic
sections, young students are perplexed and discouraged Introduc-
by the previous matter to be learnt respecting the genera- tion.
tion and properties of the cone ; and ‘that they find it no  '
easy task to conceive steadily, and to understand, dia¬
grams which represent lines drawn in different planes ; all
these difficulties are avoided by defining the curves in
piano from one of their essential properties. It is not our
intention particularly to discuss this point; and we have
only to add, that in the following treatise we have chosen
to deduce the properties of the conic sections from their
description in piano, as better adapted to the nature of a
work designed for general readers.
A geometrical treatise on the conic sections must neces¬
sarily be founded upon the elements of geometry. As
Euclid’s Elements of Geometry are generally studied, and
in every one’s hands, we have chosen to refer to it in the
demonstrations. The edition we have used is that pub¬
lished by the late Professor Playfair of Edinburgh. Al¬
though the references are made to Euclid’s Elements, yet
they will also apply to the treatise on Geometry given in
this work ; for a table is there given, indicating the parti¬
cular proposition of our treatise that corresponds to each
of the most material propositions in Euclid’s Elements.
The references are to be thus understood: (20, 1, E.)
means the 20th prop, of the first book of Euclid’s Elements ;
(2 Cor. 20, 6, E.) means the second corollary to the 20th
prop, of the sixth book of the same work; and so of others.
Again, (7) means the seventh proposition of that Part
of the following treatise in which such reference happens
to occur ; (Cor. 1) means the corollary to the first propo¬
sition ; (2 Cor. 3) means the second corollary to the third
proposition, &c.—such references being all made to the
propositions in the division of the treatise in which they
are found.
We shall conclude this brief history of this most inte¬
resting part of the ancient geometry, with a catalogue of
authors and their works.
Archimedes On the Quadrature of the Parabola, and
on Conoids and Spheroids. Archimedes lived about 180
years before the Christian era. The best editions of his
w'orks are Torelli’s, in Greek and Latin, Oxford, 1792;
and Peyrard’s French translation, Paris, 1808.
Collectiones Mathematicce Pappi Alexandrini, lib. vii.
Bononige, 1660. Here some account of Apollonius’ Co¬
nics, and the Lemmata, is given. Apollonius lived about
forty years later than Archimedes. There have been vari¬
ous editions of his Conics, viz. Apollonii Pergcei Conicorum
libri iv. cum Commentariis R. P. Claudii Richardi. Ant¬
werp, 1655.
Apollonii Pergcei Conicorum lib. v. vi. vii., Paraphraste
Abalphato Asphahnensi, ex Arabico in Latinum per Abra¬
ham Ecchelltnsem Maronitam redditi, cum Notts J. Al-
fonsi Borelli. Florent. 1661.
Apollonii Perg. Con. Sect. lib. v. vi. vii. in Grcecia de-
perditi,jam vero ex Arabico MS. ante quadringentos annos
elaborata opera suhitanea Latinitate donati a Christiano Ra-
vio. Upsal, 1669.
Apollonii Conica Methodo Nova illustrata et succincle
demonstrata, per Isaacum Barrow. London, 1675.
Emendatio et Restitutio Conicorum Apollonii Pergcei.
Autore Francisco Maurolyco. Colonise, 1675.
Apollonii Pergcei Conicorum libri octo, et Sereni Antis-
sensis de Sectione Cylindri et Coni libri duo. Oxford,
1710. This is Dr Halley’s edition. The first four books,
together with the Lemmata of Pappus, and the commen¬
taries of Eutocius, have been published from Greek ma¬
nuscripts, accompanied with a Latin translation ; the fifth,
sixth, and seventh books, which also contain the Lemmata,
have been translated from Arabic into Latin; the eighth
220
CONIC SECTIONS.
The books of Serenus
Introduc- has been restored by Dr Halley,
tion. are in Greek and Latin.
De Maximis et Minimis, Geometrica Divinatio in quintum
Gonicorum Apollonii Pergcei, nunc desideratum librum.
Autore Vincentio Viviani. Florence, 1659.
De Locis Solidis, Secunda Divinatio Geometrica in quin-
que libros injuria temporum amissos Aristeei Senioris Geo-
metros. Aut. Vin. Viviani. &c. Opus Conicorum, continens
Elementa Tractatuum ejusdem Viviani. Florence, 1701.
Apollonius Coitus, a work on Conics in German, by
Benjamin Bramer, printed 1634.
Claudii Mydorgii Patricii Parisini Prodromi Catoptri-
corum et Dioptricorum : sive Conicorum Operis ad abdita
radii rejlexii etrefracti mysteria prcevii et facem prmferentis.
Libri iv. priores. Paris, 1641.
Francisci a Schooten Leydensis de Organica Conicorum
Sectionum in piano descriptione. Lugd. Batavor. 1646.
P. Gregorii a Sto. Vincentio, Opus Geometricum Quad¬
rature Circuit et Sectionum Coni decern libris comprehen-
sum. Antverpiae, 1647.
Johannis Wallisii De Scctionibus Conicis nova methodo
expositis tractatus. Oxonii, 1655*
Joannis de Witt Elementa Curvarum Linearum per
Franciscum Schooten edita cum Cartesii Geornetria. Am-
stelodami, 1659 et 1661.
Euclides Adauctus et Methodicus Mathematicaque Uni¬
versalis. Autore Guarino. Augustae Taurin. 1671.
Nouvelle methode en Geometric pour les Sections des super¬
ficies Coniques et Cylindriques qui ont pour base des cercles,
ou desparaboles, des ellipses, et des hyperboles. Par Ph. de
la Hire. Paris, 1673.
Nouveaux Elemens des Sections Coniques, &c. par M.dela
Hire. Paris, 1679.
Sectiones Conicce in novem libr. distributee, &c. Aut.
Phil, de la Hire. Paris, 1685.
Trade des Lignes du Premier Genre, expliquees par une
Methode nouvelle et facile, par M. Ozanam. Paris, 168/.
Sectionum Conicarum Elementa nova methodo demonstrata.
Autore Jacobo Milnes. Oxoniae, 1702.
Tmite Analytique des Sections Coniques, et de leur usage,
&c. Ouvrage posthume de M. le Marquis de I’Hopital.
Paris, 1707. „
Compendia delle Sezioni Coniche d'Apollonio di P. Gui¬
do Grando. Firen. 1722.
Delle Sezioni Coniche dedotte nuovamente in Piano del
cerchio di Vincent. Santini. Luca, 1722.
Sectionum Conicarum Elementa methodo facillime demon¬
strata. Autore L. Trevigar. Cantabrigiae, 1731.
A Treatise on Conic Sections, by 11. Steel. Dublin,
1723.
Elementa Sectionum Conicarum. Autore Nicolas de
Martino. Tomii ii. Neapoli, 1734.
Elements of Conic Sections, in three books, by R. Jack.
Edinburgh, 1742.
A Mathematical Treatise, containing a System of Conic
Sections, 8?c. by J. Muller. London, 1736.
Sectionum Conicarum Elementa. Autore Josepho Bos-
covich. This treatise forms part of his Elementa Uni¬
verses Matheseos. Ilomae, 1754.
De Sectionibus Conicis tractatus geometricus, in quo ex
natura ipsius Coni Sectionum afiectiones facillime dedu-
cuntur methodo nova. Autore Hugone Hamilton. Dub¬
lin, 1758. There is an English translation of this excel¬
lent work.
Sectionum Conicarum libri quinque. Autore R. Sim- Int,,
son, Edinburgi, 1735 and 1750. ti;
Antonii Rochii Conicarum Seciionum nova methodo ex- V
positarum specimen de proportionum compositione syntag¬
ma. Patavii, 1756.
Introduction aux Sections Coniques, par M. Mauduit.
Paris, 1761.
Sectionum Conicarum Compendium. Autore D. Octa-
viano Cametti. Venetiis, 1765.
The Elements of the Conic Sections, in three books, by
W. Emerson. London, 1767.
The Elements of the Conic Sections, as preparatory to
the reading of Newton’s Principia, by the Rev. S. Vince.
Cambridge, 1781.
Elements of Conic Sections, &c. by Charles Hutton,
LL.D. 1787.
Sectionum Conicarum Libri Septem. Accedit Tractatus
de Sectionibus Conicis, et de Scriptoribus qui earum doctri-
nam tradiderunt. Autore Abramo Robertson, A. M.
Oxonii, 1792.
A Geometrical Treatise on Conic Sections, in four books,
&c. by the Rev. Abram Robertson. Oxford, 1802.
A Short Treatise on the Conic Sections, in which the
three Curves are derived from a general description on a
Plane, by the Rev. T. Newton. Cambridge, 1794.
A System of Conic Sections adapted to the Study of Na¬
tural Philosophy, by the Rev. D. M. Peacock. 1810.
A Compendious and Practical Treatise on the Construc¬
tion, Properties, and Analogies of the Three Conic Sections,
by the Rev. D. Bridge. 1811.
Essai de Geometric Analytique applique aux Cowries
et aux Surfaces du second ordre, par J. B. Biot. Paris,
1810.
A Treatise on Lines of the Second Order. This is part
of a work entitled Geometry of Curve Lines, by Sir John
Leslie, formerly Professor of Mathematics, afterwards of
Natural Philosophy, in the University of Edinburgh. Edin¬
burgh, 1821.
A Treatise on the Conic Sections, in five books, by G.
Walker, F. R. S. London, 1794.
The Elements of the Ellipse, together with the Radii of
Curvature, by James Adams. London, 1818.
An Analytical System of the Conic Sections, by the Rev.
H. P. Hamilton. Cambridge, 1828.
A Geometrical Treatise on the Conic Sections, by Wil¬
liam Wallace, Professor of Mathematics in the University
of Edinburgh. Edinburgh, 1833.
There is much valuable matter relating to the conic
sections in several works which do not treat expressly on
the subject; particularly in Newton’s Principia, lib. i.
The learned Jesuits Le Seur and Jacquier have given a
concise treatise in their commentary on the work, at Prop.
8, lib. i. Maclaurin has treated of the conic sections in
his Geometria Organica, sect. 1; in his Fluxions, chap,
xiv. and in sect. 2 of the appendix to his Algebra. Euler
has treated of them in his Introductio in Analysin Infini-
torum, lib. ii. cap. 5; and De Moivre in his Miscellanea
Analytica, lib. viii. cap. 2. The Synopsis Palmariorm
Matheseos of Jones also treats of the subject; but it would
extend our catalogue too much to name all the writers
who have improved the theory. The reader may see a
copious list of them in Bibliotheca Mathematicq, Auctore
Fred. Guil. Aug. Mur hard. Lipsiae, 1798.
Tf
r
CONIC SECTIONS.
PART I—OF THE PARABOLA.
221
Parabola.
I. If a straight line BC, and a point without it F, be
given in position in a plane, and a point D be supposed
to move in such a manner that DF, its distance from the
given point, is equal to BD, its distance from the given
line; the point D will describe a line DAD', called a Pa¬
rabola.
II. The straight line BC, which is given in, position, is
called the Directrix of the parabola.
III. The given point F is called the Focus.
IV. A straight line perpendicular to the directrix, ter¬
minated at one extremity by the parabola, and produced
indefinitely within it, is called a Diameter.
V. The point in which a diameter meets the parabola
is called its Vertex.
VI. The diameter which passes through the focus is call¬
ed the Axis of the parabola ; and the vertex of the axis is
called the Principal Vertex.
Corollary. A perpendicular drawn from the focus to
the directrix is bisected at the vertex of the axis.
VII. A straight line terminated both ways by the para¬
bola, and bisected by a diameter, is called an Ordinate to
that diameter.
VIII. The segment of a diameter between its vertex
and an ordinate, is called an Absciss.
IX. A straight line quadruple the distance between the
vertex of a diameter and the directrix, is called the Para¬
meter, also the Latus Rectum of that diameter.
X. A straight line meeting the parabola only in one
point, and which everywhere else falls without it, is said
to touch the parabola at that point, and is called a Tangent
to the parabola.
Proposition I.
The distance of any point without the parabola from the
focus is greater than its distance from the directrix;
and the distance ol any point within the parabola from
the focus is less than its distance from the directrix.
Let DArf be a parabola, of which F is the focus, GC the
directrix, and P a point without the curve, that is, on the
same side of the curve with the directrix; PF, a line
rawn to the focus, will be greater than PG, a perpendi-
cu ar to the directrix. For, as PF must necessarily cut
ie curve, let D be the point of intersection; draw DB
perpendicular to the directrix, and join PB. Because D
is a point in the parabola, DB — Df (Definition 1), there-
P t- P *5ut "P *s greater than
1 B (20, 1, E.), and therefore still greater than PG (19, 1,
E.), therefore PF is greater than PG.
Again, let Q be a point within the parabola; QF, a line
drawn to the locus, is less than QB, a perpendicular to
the directrix. The perpendicular QB necessarily cuts the
curve ; let D be the point of intersection ; join DF. Then
DF = DB (Def. 1), and QD + DF = QB ; but QF is
less than QD + DF, therefore QF is less than QB.
Cor. A point is without or within the parabola, ac¬
cording as its distance from the focus is greater or less than
its distance from the directrix.
Prop. II.
Every straight line perpendicular to the directrix meets
the parabola, and every diameter falls wholly within it.
(See Figure to Prop. I.)
Let the straight line BQ be perpendicular to the direc¬
trix at B; BQ shall meet the parabola. Draw BF to the
focus, and make the anglfe BFP equal to FBQ; then, be¬
cause QBC is a right angle, QBF and Pf B are each less
than a right angle, therefore QB and PP intersect each
other ; let D be the point of intersection, then DB zr DF
(5, 1, E.); theyefore D is a point in the parabola. Again,
the diameter DQ falls wholly within the parabola ; for
take Q any point in the diameter, and draw FQ to the fo¬
cus, then QB or QD + DF is greater than QF; therefore
Q is within the parabola (Cor. 1).
Cor. The parabola continually recedes from the axis,
and a point may be found in the curve that shall be at a
greater distance from the axis than any assigned line.
Prop. III.
The straight line which bisects the angle contained by
two straight lines drawn from any point in the parabola,
the one to the focus, and the other perpendicular to
the directrix, is a tangent to the curve in that point.
Let D be any point in the curve; let DF be drawn to
the focus, and DB perpendicular to the directrix; the
straight line which bisects the angle FDB is a tangent to
the curve. Join BF meeting DE in I, take H any other
point in DE, join HF, HB, and draw HG perpendicular
to the directrix. Because DFDB, and DI is common
to the triangles DFI, DBI, and the angles FDI, BDI, are
equal, these triangles are equal, and FI = IB; and hence
FH = HB (4, 1, E.) : but HB is greater than HG (19, 1,
E.) ; therefore the distance of the point H from the focus
is greater than its distance from the directrix, hence that
point is without the parabola (Cor. 1), and therefore HDI
is a tangent to the curve at D (Def. 10).
Cor. 1. A perpendicular to the axis at its vertex is a
tangent to the curve. Let AM be perpendicular to the
axis at the vertex A, then RS, the distance of any point
in AM from the directrix, is equal to CA, that is to AF,
11
222
CONIC SECTIONS.
Parabola, and therefore is less than RF, the distance of the same
point from the focus.
Cor. 2. A straight line drawn from the focus of a para¬
bola perpendicular to a tangent, and produced to meet the
directrix, is bisected by the tangent. For it has been
shown that FB, which is perpendicular to the tangent DI,
is bisected at I.
Cor. 3. A tangent to the parabola makes equal angles
with the diameter which passes through the point of con¬
tact, and a straight line drawn from that point to the fo¬
cus. For BD being produced to Q, DQ is a diameter,
and the angle HDQ is equal to BDE, that is, to EDI*.
Cor. 4. The axis is the only diameter which is perpen¬
dicular to a tangent at its vertex. For the angle HDQ,
or BDE, is the half of BDF, and therefore less than a
right angle, except when BD and Db lie in a straight
line, which happens when D falls at the vertex.
Cor. 5. There cannot be more than one tangent to the
parabola at the same point.
B
For let any other line DK, except a diameter, be drawn
through D; draw FK perpendicular to DK; on D lor a
centre, with a radius equal to DB or DF, describe a circle,
cutting FK in N; draw NL parallel to the axis, meeting
DK in L, and join FL. Then FK — KN (3, 3, E.), and
therefore FL = LN. Now BD being perpendicular to the
directrix, the circle FBN touches the directrix at B (16, 3,
E.) ; and hence N, any other point in the circumference, is
without the directrix, and on the same side of it as the pa¬
rabola; therefore the point L is nearer to the focus than
to the directrix, and consequently is within the parabola.
Scholium. From the property of tangents to the pa¬
rabola demonstrated in Cor. 3, the point F takes the name
of the Focus. For rays of light proceeding parallel to the
axis of a parabola, and falling upon a polished surface
whose figure is that produced by the revolution of the pa¬
rabola about its axis, are reflected to the focus.
through C draw the directrix BC6 : draw DF to the focus, M
DE perpendicular to the axis, and DB perpendicular to H
the directrix: Take AH equal to FD.
Because AH is equal to DF, and DF is greater than
AF (Cor. Prop. 2), therefore AH is greater than AF,
and H is always in AF produced.
Now CE is equal to AH, for each is equal to DF; there¬
fore, taking from these the equals AC, AF, we have
AE = FH.
Construction. In AF produced take any point H,
and take AE equal to FH. Through E draw DEd per¬
pendicular to the axis, and with F as a centre, at the
distance API, describe a circle which will cut the perpen¬
dicular in D and d: these are points in the parabola.
For AE = FH, therefore CE = AH, and DB = DF,
therefore D is in the parabola, and in the same way it ap-
pears that d is in the.parabola.
Cor. 1. Any perpendicular to the axis meets the para¬
bola in two points, and in no more, and the straight line
between the points is bisected by the axis. For if the
perpendicular could meet the curve in another point D',
then FD' being joined, we would have FD' equal to D B',
that is, to DB or to FD, which is impossible (19, 1, E.).
Cor. 2. Every chord T)d, in a parabola, perpendicular to
the axis, is bisected by the axis, and therefore is an ordi¬
nate to it. For the chord in the parabola is also a chord in
a circle, the centre of which is in the axis of the parabola.
Scholium. From this proposition it appears that the
parabola is composed of two branches, which recede con¬
tinually from the directrix and from the focus, also from
the axis (Cor. Prop. 2). And it appears that the indefi¬
nite spaces between the curve and axis on each side are
exactly alike, so that if the whole space comprehended
within the parabola were divided into two portions by
cutting it through the axis, and one of them were turned
over upon the other, they would entirely coincide.
Prop. V.
If a straight line be drawn from the focus of a parabola to
the intersection of two tangents to the curve; it makes
equal angles with straight lines drawn from the focus
to the points of contact.
G H
Prop. IV. Problem.
To find any number of points in a parabola, having given
the focus and axis.
Let F be the focus, AH the axis, and A the vertex.
Suppose the problem resolved, and that D is a point in same way n may uc —n Vi'rJw HF and the
the parabola. In FA produced take AC equal to AF, and are in every way equal, and therefore HA - Hi, a
Let HP, Ho, tangents to a parabola at P and p, inter¬
sect each other at H ; draw PF, pY, HF, to F the focus;
the line HF makes equal angles with FP, Vp.
Draw PK, pk perpendicular to the directrix, andjom
HK, HA. The triangles HPK, HPF have PK = PF, PH
common to both, and the angles KPFI, FPH equa ( )>
therefore they are in every way equal (4, 1, E.), and Have
HK = HF, and the angle HKP equal to HFP. In the
same way it may be shown, that the triangles rqp , P >
f-
CONIC SECTIONS.
angle HKp is equal to HFjo: But HK being equal to H£,
for each has been proved equal to H.F, the angles HKjfc,
HAK are equal (5, 1, E.), and adding to these the right
angles PKA, pkK, the angles HKP, Hkp are equal; but
these have been proved equal to HFP, HF/>; therefore
these last are equal, and the line HF makes equal angles
with FP, Fjo.
Con. 1. Perpendiculars drawn from the intersection of
two tangents, to lines drawn from the points of contact
through the focus, are equal. For HI, Hi, being drawn
perpendicular to PF, PF, the triangles HFI, HFi, are
manifestly equal (26, 1, E.), and therefore FII = Hi.
Cor. 2. Perpendiculars from the intersection of two
tangents to diameters passing through the points of con¬
tact are equal.
Draw GHg through H perpendicular to PK, pl<, and be¬
cause the triangles HPG, FIPI have HP common to both,
the angles at P equal, and the angles G and I right
angles, the triangles are in every way equal (26, 1, E.),
and hence HG is equal to HI. In like manner it is proved
that Hg is equal to Hi; but HI is equal to Fli, therefore
HG is equal to H^.
Prop. VI.
If a straight line be drawn from the intersection of two
tangents to the focus, and another perpendicular to the
directrix; these will make equal angles with the tan¬
gents.
223
Let F be the focus of a parabola, and O the directrix ;
and let straight lines HP, Hp, which intersect each other
at H, touch the parabola at P and p, also let HF be
drawn to the focus, and FIE perpendicular to the di¬
rectrix; the angles PHE, jejHF are equal.
The same construction being made as in Prop. V.
In the triangles HEK, HE£, it may be shown, as in
that proposition, that HK is equal to HA; and therefore
that the angle HKE is equal to the angle HAE (5, 1, E.).
The angles HEK, HEA are also equal; therefore the
angles KHE, AHE are equal (26, 1, E.). Now the angle
= KHP -p PHE ; but the triangles KHP, FHP are
in every way equal (as was shown in Prop. V.) Therefore
KHP — FHP, and hence
KHE = FHP + PHE = FHE + 2PHE.
In the same way it appears that
AHE = FH/> + jpHE = FHE +2FH»;
therefore FHE + 2PHE - FHE + 2FHjo;
and hence 2PHE = 2/jHF and PHE joHF.
Prop. VII.
If two tangents to a parabola be at the extremities of a
chord, and a third tangent be parallel to the chord; the
part of this tangent intercepted between the other two Parabola,
is bisected at the point of contact.
Let HD, Hr/, be tangents at the extremities of the
chord Dr/, and KPA a tangent parallel to Dr/, meeting the
other tangents in K and A; the line KA is bisected at P,
the point of contact.
From FI, K, A, the intersections of the tangents, draw
perpendiculars to the diameters passing through their
points of contact, viz. HI, IK, perpendicular to DL and
dl; and KM, KN, perpendicular to DL and PE, and km,
kn, perpendicular to dl and PE.
The triangles DPII, DKM, are manifestly equiangular,
also the triangles r/Hi, dkm ; therefore
FID : DK = HI: KM (4, 6, E.),
and Hr/: dk — Hi : km.
But because KA is parallel to Dr/,
HD : DK = Fir/: dk (2, 6, E.) ;
therefore HI : KM — Hi : km.
Now HI r= Hi (2 Cor. 5), therefore KM = km.
But KM - KN, and Km = Kn (2 Cor 5) ;
therefore KN = kn..
And since KN : kn = KP : A^(Cor. 6, E.),
therefore KP rr AP.
Lemma.
Let KL/ be a triangle, having its base L/ bisected at p,
and let HA, any straight line parallel to the base, and ter¬
minated by the sides, be bisected at P; then P, p, the
points of bisection, and K, the vertex of the triangle, are
in the same straight line; and that line bisects Dr/, any
other straight line parallel to the base.
Complete the parallelograms KHPM, KLy»N. The
triangles KHA, KL/ being similar, and HA, L/ similarly
divided at P and p,
KH : KL = HA : L/ = HP : Ljo,
hence the parallelograms KHPM, KLy>N are similar. Now
they have a common angle at K, therefore they are about
the same diameter, that is, the points K, P, p are in the
same straight line (26, 6, E.).
Next, let Dr/ meet Kp in E, then
HP: DE (= KP : KE) = PA : ErZ;
therefore DE is equal to Er/.
Prop. VIII.
Any chord parallel to a tangent is bisected by the diame¬
ter which passes through the point of contact, or is an
ordinate to that diameter.
T
224
Parabola.
1
CONIC SECTIONS.
Let DH, a tangent to the curve at D, meet the diame- Part
ter EP in H, and let DEc/ be an ordinate to that diame- ^
ter: the segment HE is bisected in P.
Draw PK, a tangent at P, meeting the tangent DH in
K, and draw IKi, perpendicular to the diameter PE at i,
and meeting a diameter drawn through D at I. ^
The triangles DKI, HKi are similar (29, 1, E.), there¬
fore IK : Ki = DK : KH (4, 6, E.); and because in the
triangle DHE, KP is parallel to the side DE, DK : KH
= EP : PH, therefore IK : K* = EP : PH; but IK and
Kz are equal (2 Cor. 5), therefore EP and PH are equal.
The chord T)d, which is parallel to the tangent KP£, is
bisected at E by PE, the diameter that passes through
the point of contact.
Let DH, dH be tangents, and DN, dn diameters at the
extremities of the chord; let the tangent at P meet the
other tangents in K and k, and the diameters in L and l,
and through H draw OHo parallel to Y)d, and IHz perpen¬
dicular to the diameters DN, dn. .
Because of the parallels hi, Oo, and DO, do, the triangles
DKL, DHO are similar, also the triangles dkl, dWo, and
the triangles OHI, oHz, therefore
DK : DH = KL : HO,
and dk : c?H — kl: Ho (4, 6, E.) ;
But because Dc? is parallel to K&,
DK : DH = dk : rfH (2, 6, E.),
therefore KL : HO — : Ho ;
but HO : HI r= Ho : Hz,
therefore, ex. ceq. KL : HI A/: Hz.
Now HI = Hz (2 Cor. 5), therefore KL = kl; but
KP n kp (7), therefore PL ~ hi, and ED — hd (34,1, E.)
Cor. 1. Straight lines which touch a parabola at the ex¬
tremities of an ordinate to a diameter intersect each other
in that diameter ; for KA and Dg? being bisected at Pand
E, the points H, P, E lie in a straight line. (Lemma.)
Cor. 2. Every ordinate to a diameter is parallel to a
tangent at its vertex: For if it be not, let a tangent be
drawn parallel to the ordinate ; then the diameter which
passes through the point of contact would bisect the ordi¬
nate, and thus the same line would be bisected in two dif¬
ferent points, which is impossible.
Cor. 3. All ordinates to the same diameter are parallel
to each other. ,, , t i
Cor. 4. A straight line that bisects two parallel chords,
and terminates in the curve, is a diameter.
Cor. 5. The axis is perpendicular to its ordinates, and
every other diameter cuts its ordinates obliquely.
Prop. IX.
If a tangent at any point in a parabola meet a diameter,
and from the point of contact an ordinate be drawn to
that diameter; the segment of the diameter between the
vertex and tangent is equal to the segment between
the vertex and the ordinate.
Prop. X.
If an ordinate to any diameter pass through the focus; the
absciss is equal to one fourth of the parameter of that
diameter, and the ordinate is equal to the whole para-
meter.
Let DEd, a straight line passing through the focus, be
an ordinate to the diameter PE ; the absciss PE is equal
to one fourth the parameter, and the ordinate Dd is
equal to the whole parameter of the diameter PE.
Let DH, PI be tangents at D and P; let DH meet the
diameter in H ; draw PF to the focus, and DL parallel to
EP. The angles HPI, IFF, being equal (3), and PI pa¬
rallel to EF (2 Cor. 8), the angles PEF, PFE, are also
equal (29,1, E.), and PE = PF = ^ the parameter (Def.9
and Def. 1). Again, the angle HDE is equal to LDH
(3), and therefore equal to DHE ; consequently ED is
equal to EH, or to twice EP (9): therefore Drf is equal
to 4EP, or to 4PF, that is, to the parameter of the dia¬
meter.
Prop. XL
If any two diameters of a parabola be produced to meet a
tangent to the curve ; the segments of the diameters be¬
tween their vertices and the tangent are to one another
as the squares of the segments of the tangent intercept¬
ed between each diameter and the point of contact.
Let QH, RK, any two diameters, be produced to meet
PI, a tangent to the curve at P, in the points C, 1; ’
HG : Kl = PG2: PI2.
t-
CONIC SECTIONS.
225
Let PN, a semi-ordinate to the diameter HQ, meetKR
in 0, and let PR, a semi-ordinate to the diameter KO,
meet HN in Q; from H draw parallels to NO and QR,
meeting KR in L and M; thus HL is a tangent to the
curve, and HM a semi-ordinate to KR.
Now KI = KR, and KL = KM (9) ;
therefore, by subtraction, LI = MR == HQ.
But LO = HN = HG (9);
therefore, by addition, 10 = GQ.
The triangles PGN, PIO, are similar, as also PGQ,
PIR,
therefore GN, or 2GH : 10 = PG : PI,
and GQ : IR, or 10 : 2IK = PG : PI.
Hence, taking the rectangles of the corresponding terms,
2GH • 10 : 210 • IK = PG2: PI2,
therefore GH : IK = PG2 : PP.
Cor. The squares of semi-ordinates, and of ordinates
to any diameter, are to one another as their correspond¬
ing abscisses.
lonius called the curve line to which
a Parabola.
the property belonged Parabola.
Prop. XIII.
If AB, an ordinate to a diameter PG, is cut by any
other diameter CD in D ; the rectangle AD • DB contain¬
ed by its segments is equal to the rectangle contained by
CD, the segment of the diameter between its vertex and
the ordinate, and the parameter of the diameter PG.
Draw CH, a semi-ordinate to the diameter PG, and let
L be its parameter.
Because AG2 =r L*PG (12V
and DG2 = CH2 = L • PH,J
therefore AG2 — DG2 - L (PG — PH),
that is (5 and 6, 2, E.), AD • DB — L • CD.
Cor. If a chord AB is cut by any two diameters CD,
EF, the rectangles AD • DB, AF* FB, are to one another
as CD, EF, the segments of the diameters between their
vertices and the chord.
For since AD • DB L • CD ; and AF • FB = L • EF;
therefore AD • DB : AF‘ FB — L • CD: L*EF=: CD : EF.
Let HEA, KN£ be ordinates to the diameter PN; draw
PG a tangent to the curve at the vertex of the diameter,
and complete the parallelograms PEHG, PNKI; then
PG, PI, are equal to EH, NK, and GH, IK, to PE, PN,
respectively; therefore HE2 : KN2 = PE : PN.
Prop. XIV.
A straight line drawn from the focus of a parabola, per¬
pendicular to a tangent, is a mean proportional between
the straight line drawn from the focus to the point of
contact, and one fourth the parameter of the axis.
Prop. XII.
If an ordinate be drawn to any diameter of a parabola;
the rectangle under the absciss and the parameter of the
diameter is equal to the square of the semi-ordinate.
Let KBA be an ordinate to the diameter PB ; the rect-
I angle contained by PB, and the parameter of the diameter
is equal to the square of KB, the semi-ordinate.
Let DEc? be that ordinate to the diameter which pass¬
es through the focus. The semi-ordinates DE, Eg? are
each half of the parameter, and the absciss EP is one
fourth of the parameter (10) ;
therefore Dd: DE = DE : PE,
and Drf* PE - DE2 (16, 6, E.).
But Dd • PE : Drf • PB, or PE : PB = DE2: KB2 (Cor. 9);
therefore Dg?- PB = KB2.
Scholium. It was on account of the equality of the
square of the semi-ordinate to a rectangle contained by
the parameter of the diameter and the absciss, that Apol-
VOL. VII.
Let FB be a perpendicular from the focus upon the tan¬
gent PB, and FP a straight line drawn to the point of con¬
tact ; let A be the principal vertex, and therefore FA
equal to one fourth of the parameter of the axis; FB is a
mean proportional between FP and FA.
Produce FB and FA to meet the directrix in D and C,
and join AB. 'Hie lines FC, FD are bisected at A and
B (2 Cor. 3), therefore (2, 6, E.) AB is parallel to CD, or
perpendicular to CF, and consequently is a tangent to the
curve at A (1 Cor. 3). Now BP is a tangent at P, there¬
fore the angle AFB is equal to BFP (5); and since the
angles FAB, FBP are right angles, the triangles FAB,
FBP are equiangular; hence
FP:FB = FB:FA.
Cor. 1. The common intersection of a tangent, and a
perpendicular from the focus to the tangent, is in a straight
line touching the parabola at its vertex.
2 F
226
Parabola.
CONIC
Cor. 2. If PH be drawn perpendicular to the tangent,
meeting the axis in H, and HK be drawn perpendicular
to PF; PK shall be equal to half the parameter of the axis.
For the triangles HPK, FBP, are manifestly equiangular;
therefore
HP:PK = PF:FB = FB:FA = FD:FC.
But if PD be joined, the line PD is evidently perpendicu¬
lar to the directrix (3), therefore the figure HPpb is a
parallelogram, and HP = FD, therefore PK = FC = halt
the parameter of the axis.
Prop. XV.
SECTIONS.
tersect each other in the middle diameter produced. For Par*
the semi-ordinates PK, P^, are the halves of chords so
drawn, and DI, dl are tangents parallel to these chords.
Prop. XVI.
Let CD, any diameter o'f a parabola whose vertex is
C intersect a chord AB in D ; from the ends of the chord
inflect straight lines AE, BE, to E, any point in the curve,
and let these cut the diameter in H and K, the point H
being in AE, and K in BE ; the segments AD, BD of the
chord shall have the same ratio as the segments CH, CK
of the diameter between its vertex and the inflected lines.
CONIC SECTIONS.
227
v Let AB be the given directrix, and F the focus. Place
j t]ie edge of the ruler ABKH along the directrix, and
keep it fixed in that position. Let LCG be another ruler
of such a form that the side LC may slide along AB, the
edge of the fixed ruler ABKH, and the part CG may have
its edge CD constantly perpendicular to AB. Let GDF
be a string of the same length as GC, the edge of the
moveable ruler; let one end of the string be fixed at F,
and the other fastened to G, a point in the moveable ru¬
ler. Bv means of the pin D let the string be stretched
so that the part of it between G and D may be applied
close to the edge of the moveable ruler, while at the same
time the ruler slides along BA, the edge of the fixed ruler ;
the pin D will thus be constrained to move along CG, the
edge of the ruler, and its point will trace upon the plane
in which the directrix and focus are situated, a curve line
DE, which is the parabola required. For the string GDF
being equal in length to GDC, if GD be taken from both,
there remains DF equal to DC ; that is, the distance of
the moving point D from the focus is equal to its dis¬
tance from the directrix, therefore the point D describes
a parabola.
Prop. XVIII. Problem.
A parabola being given by position, to find its directrix
and focus.
Let DPof be the given parabola; draw any two parallel
chords Da?, Ee, and bisect them at H and K; join KH,
meeting the parabola in P; the straight line PHK is a
diameter (4 Cor. 8), the point P is its vertex, and Dcf, Ee
are ordinates to it. In HP produced take PL equal to
one fourth part of a third proportional to PH and HD, and
draw LN perpendicular to PL, the line LN will evidently
be the directrix (12, and Def. 9). Draw PM parallel to
the ordinates to the diameter PK, then PM will be a tan¬
gent to the curve at P (2 Cor. 8). Draw LM perpendi¬
cular to PM, and take MF = ML, and the point F will
be the focus of the parabola (3 Cor. 3).
Definitions.
PART II.—OF THE ELLIPSE.
Prop. I.
I. If two points F and/be given in a plane, and a point
D be conceived to move around them in such a manner
that D/ -{- DF, the sum of its distances from them, is al¬
ways the same; the point D will describe upon the plane
a line ABoA, which is called an ellipse.
II. The given points F, / are called the foci of the
ellipse.
III. The point C which bisects the straight line between
the foci is called the centre.
IV. The distance of either focus from the centre is
called the eccentricity.
V. A straight line passing through the centre, and ter¬
minated both ways by the ellipse, is called a diameter.
VI. The extremities of a diameter are called its ver¬
tices.
VII. The diameter which passes through the foci is
called the transverse axis, also the greater axis.
VIII. The diameter which is perpendicular to the trans¬
verse axis is called the conjugate axis, also the lesser axis.
IX. Any straight line not passing through the centre,
hut terminated both ways by the ellipse, and bisected by
a diameter, is called an ordinate to that diameter.
X. Each of the segments of a diameter intercepted be¬
tween its vertices and an ordinate, is called an absciss.
XI. A straight line which meets the ellipse in one point
only, and everywhere else falls without it, is said to touch
the ellipse in that point, and is called a tangent to the
ellipse.
If from any point in an ellipse two straight lines be drawn
to the foci, their sum is equal to the transverse axis.
Let ABaZ» be an ellipse, of which F, / are the foci,
and Aa the transverse axis ; let D be any point in the
curve, and DF, T>f lines drawn to the foci; Df + DF
= Aa.
Because A, a are the points in the ellipse,
A/+ AF = «F + «/(Def. 1),
therefore Yf + 2 AF = F/+ 2 q/;
hence 2 AF = 2 af and AF — af,
and A/+ AF = A/+ af — Aa.
But D and A being points in the ellipse,
D/ + DF = Af+ AF,
therefore D/ + DF = Aa.
Cor. 1. The sum of two straight lines drawn from a
point without the ellipse to the foci is greater than the
transverse axis. And the sum of two straight lines drawn
from a point within the ellipse to the foci is less than the
transverse axis.
Let PF, Pf be drawn from a point without the ellipse
to the foci; let Pf meet the ellipse in D ; join FD; then
PfPF is greater than E/+ DF (21, 1, E.), that is,
than Aa. Again, let QF, Q/be drawn from a point with¬
in the ellipse, let Qf meet the curve in D, and join FD ;
Q/’ + QF is less than ly-j-DF (21,1, E.), that is, than Aa.
Cor. 2. A point is without or within the ellipse, accord¬
ing as the sum of two lines drawn from it to the foci is
greater or less than the transverse axis.
228
CONIC SECTIONS.
Ellipse.
Cor. 3. The transverse axis is bisected in the centre.
Let C be the centre, then CF=C/ (Def. 3), and FA=/a,
therefore CA = Ca.
Con. 4. The distance of either extremity of the conju¬
gate axis from either of the foci is equal to half the trans¬
verse axis. Let B6 be the conjugate axis; join Fb, fb.
Because CF = Cf, and Cb is common to the triangles
CF&, Cfb, also the angles at C are right angles, these tri¬
angles are equal; hence Fb — fb, and since Fb-{- bf= Aa,
Fb = AC.
Cor. 5. The conjugate axis is bisected in the centre.
Join/6,/B. By the last corollary B/ = bf; therefore the
angles/BC, fbC are equal; now JC is common to the tri¬
angles /CB, fCb, and the angles at C are right angles,
therefore (26, 1, E.) CB = Cb.
Prop. II.
Every diameter of an ellipse is bisected in the centre.
Let Fp be a diameter, it is bisected in C. For if Cp be
not equal to CP, take CQ, equal to CP, and from the points
P, p, Q, draw lines to F,/, the foci. The triangles FCP,
/CQ having FC = Cf, PC = CQ, and the angles at C
equal, are in all respects equal, therefore FP =fQ; in
like manner it appears that/P= FQ, therefore FQ +/Q
is equal to FP + /P, or (Def. 1) to Fp+fp, which is
absurd (21, 1, E.) ; therefore CP = Cp.
Cor. 1. Every diameter meets the ellipse in two points
only. _ .
Cor. 2. Every diameter divides the ellipse into two
parts, which are equal and similar, the like parts of the
curve being at opposite extremities of the diameter.
Prop. III.
The square of half the conjugate axis of an ellipse is equal
to the rectangle contained by the segments into which
the transverse axis is divided by either focus.
Draw a straight line from / either of the foci, to B,
either of the extremities of the conjugate axis.
Then BC2 + C/2 = B/2 = Ca2 (4 Cor. 1).
But because Aa is bisected at C,
Ca2 = Af' fa + C/2;
therefore BC2 + C/2 = Af‘fa + Cf'2,
and BC2 = Af’fa.
Prop. IV. Problem.
To find any number of points in an ellipse, having given
the transverse axis and foci.
Let F,/be the foci, Aa the transverse axis, and C the
centre. Suppose the problem resolved, and that D is a
point in the ellipse; join DF, F)f; take AH in the axis
equal to DF; then aH will be equal to D/(1).
And HA — Ha = DF — Df;
But HA — Ha = HC + Ca — Ha = 2CH;
therefore DF — D/=^2CH.
Now DF < F/ + D/;
and hence DF — D/ Z. Ff;
therefore 2CH I/and CH Z. Cf.
Thus it appears that the point H may be anywhere
between the foci; but that it cannot be between the foci
and the vertices.
Construction.—Take H, any point between the foci,
and from F and/as centres, with the distances HA, Ha
describe circles, which will cut each other in two points
D, d, one on each side of the axis. These are points in
the ellipse.
Join DF, Df, also dF, df. Because DF + D/ = HA
+ Ha = Aa, therefore D is a point in the ellipse. In
like manner, it appears that d is in the ellipse.
In this way, by taking different points H, may any num¬
ber of points be found.
Cor. 1. Any perpendicular to the transverse axis be¬
tween its extremities meets the ellipse in two points, and
in no more. For, if the perpendicular Dd could meet the
curve in two points D, D', on the same side of the axis,
then DF, Df, also D'F, Df being drawn to the foci, DF
+ D/would be equal to D'F + Df. Now, supposing D*
to be the point nearer to the axis, DF will be greater than
D'F, and D/*greater than D/(19, 1, E.), and DF + D/
greater than D'F + D/'; therefore D and D' cannot both
be points in the ellipse.
Cor. 2. Every chord Dd, in an ellipse, perpendicular
to the transverse axis, is bisected by that axis, and there¬
fore is an ordinate to it. For the chord Dd in the ellipse
is also a chord in a circle, the centre of which is in the
axis.
Cor. 3. Of all the straight lines that can be drawn
from either focus to the curve, the longest is that which
passes through the centre ; and the shortest is the remain¬
der of the transverse axis. And only two equal straight
lines can be drawn from the focus to the curve, one on
each side of the axis.
Scholium. From this proposition it appears that an
ellipse is a curve, which returns into itself, thus inclosing
a finite area; also, that the spaces between the curve and
the axis on each side are alike in every way; so that if
the ellipse were resolved into two portions, by cutting it
along the axis, the space ABDa, if turned over, would co¬
incide entirely with the space Abda. Now it has been
shown that the same spaces will coincide if one of them
be reversed (2 Cor. 2); and then the curve ABDa will
coincide with adbA. Hence it follows that the two axes
divide the whole ellipse into four portions exactly alike;
and which, by superposition, may be applied on each other.
CONIC SECTIONS.
*
229
Prop. V.
J The straight line which bisects the angle adjacent to that
which is contained by two straight lines drawn from any
point in the ellipse to the foci, is a tangent to the curve
in that point.
Let D be any point in the curve ; let DF, lybe straight
lines drawn to the foci; the straight line DE which bisects
the angle/DG adjacent to/DF, is a tangent to the curve
at D.
Take H any other point in DE; take DG = D^ and
join H/, HF, HG, /G; let /G meet DE in L. Because
D/ = DG, and DL is common to the triangles E^L,
DGL, and the angles /DL, GDL are equal, these trian¬
gles are equal, and/L = LG, and hence/H = HG (4,
1, E.), and FH + /H = FH + HG; but FH + HG is
greater than FG, that is, greater than FD + /D or Aa,
therefore FH + /H is greater than Aa ; hence the point
H is without the ellipse (2 Cor. 1) ; and therefore DHI is
a tangent to the curve at D (Def. 11).
Cor. 1. There cannot be more than one tangent at the
same point; for D is such a point in the line DE, that the
sum ofDF, D/ the distances of that point from the foci,
is evidently less than the sum of HF, H/ the distances of
H, any other point in that line ; and if another line KDI
be drawn through D, there is in like manner a point K in
that line which will be different from D, such, that the
sum of FK, /K is less than the sum of the distances of
any other point in KI, and therefore less than FD + /D ;
therefore the point K will be within the ellipse (2 Cor. 1),
and the line KI will cut the curve.
Cor. 2. A perpendicular to the transverse axis at either
of its extremities is a tangent to the curve. The demon¬
stration is the same as for the proposition, if it be consi¬
dered that when D falls at either extremity of the axis,
the point L falls also at the extremity of the axis; and
thus the tangent DE, which is always perpendicular to
/L, is perpendicular to the axis.
Cor. 3. A perpendicular to the conjugate axis at either
of its extremities is a tangent to the curve. For the per¬
pendicular evidently bisects the angle adjacent to that
which is contained by lines drawn from the extremity to
> the foci.
Cor. 4. A tangent to the ellipse makes equal angles
with straight lines drawn from the point of contact to the
foci. For the angle /DE being equal to GDE, is also
equal to FDM, which is vertical to GDE.
Scholium. From the property of the ellipse which
forms this last corollary, the points F and/take the name
of Foci. For writers on optics show that if a polished con¬
cave surface be formed, whose figure is that produced by
the revolution of an ellipse about its transverse axis, rays
of light which flow from one focus, and fall upon that sur¬
face, are reflected to the other focus; so that if a lumi¬
nous point be placed in one focus, there is formed by re¬
flection an image of it in the other focus.
Prop. VL
The tangents at the vertices of any diameter of an ellipse
are parallel.
Let Vp be a diameter, and HPK, hpk tangents at its
vertices ; draw straight lines from P and p to V and/the
foci. The triangles FCP,/C/>, having FC rr fc, CP = Cj»
(2), and the angles at C equal, are in all respects equal;
and because the angle FPC is equal to Cpf, FP is parallel
to fp (27, 1, E.) ; therefore Pf is equal and parallel to
^F (33, 1, E.), thus FP /» is a parallelogram, of which
the opposite angles P and p are equal (34, 1, E.). Now
the angles FPH, fph are evidently half the supplements
of these angles (4 Cor. 5), therefore the angles FPH,
fph, are equal, and hence CPH, Cph are also equal, and
consequently HP is parallel to hp.
Cor. 1. If tangents be drawn to an ellipse at the ver¬
tices of a diameter ; straight lines drawn from either focus
to the points of contact make equal angles with these tan¬
gents. For the angle Ypk is equal to FPH.
Cor. 2. The axes of an ellipse are the only diameters
which are perpendicular to tangents at their vertices.
For let Vp be any other diameter, then PF and pV are
necessarily unequal, and therefore the angles VpV, Wp
are also unequal; to these add the equal angles Vpk, FPH,
and the angles Cph, CPH are unequal; therefore neither
of them can be a right angle (29, 1, E.).
Prop. VII.
If a straight line be drawn from either focus of an ellipse
to the intersection of two tangents to the curve; it will
make equal angles with straight lines drawn from the
same focus to the points of contact.
Let HP, Hp, tangents to an ellipse at P and p, inter¬
sect each other at H; draw PF, pV, HF to F, either of
the foci; the line HF makes equal angles with FP, Vp.
Draw Vf, pf to f the other focus, and in FP, Vp pro¬
duced take PK =r Vf and pk = pf; join HK, VLk, and
draw/K,/&, meeting the tangents in G and g.
The triangles HPK, HP/’have PK = Vf PH common
to both, and the angles KPH, /PH equal (4), there¬
fore they are in every way equal (4, 1, E.), and have
HK — H/ In the same way it may be shown that the
triangles Vlph, Vlpf are in every way equal, and therefore
that H7e = H/
The triangles HFK, HFA have HK = Vik (for each is
equal to HZ’), HF common to both, andFKirrF^, because
each is equal to PF + Vf or pV + pf, that is, to the trans-
Ellipse.
\
CONIC SECTIONS.
verse axis; therefore they are in all respects equal, and
the angle HFK is equal to the angle HF/i; wherefore HF
makes equal angles with FP and Yp.
Cor. Perpendiculars drawn from the intersection of
two tangents to straight lines drawn from either focus
through the points of contact are equal.
Let HI, H« be perpendiculars drawn from H, the in¬
tersection of the tangents PH, ph on the lines FP, Yp.
The triangles HFI, llfi are in all respects equal (26, 1, E.),
therefore HI = H*.
Prop. VIII.
Straight lines drawn from the intersection of two tangents
to the foci, make equal angles with the tangents.
H
either of the foci, and from H, K, k, the intersections of {j
the tangents, draw perpendiculars to the lines drawn from ^
the points of contact to the foci, viz. HI, Hi perpendicu¬
lar to DF, dY; and KM, KN perpendicular to FD, FP;
and km, kn perpendicular to Yd, F'P.
The triangles DHI, DKM are manifestly equiangular,
also the triangles d\\i, dkm ;
therefore DH : DK = HI : KM (4, 6, E.),
and dW : dk = Hi : km ;
but because Y)d is parallel to KA, a side of the triangle
HO,
DH : DK zr dH : dk (2, 6, E.),
therefore HI : KM — Hi : km.
Now HI = Hi (Cor. 7), therefore KM = km ; but KM
= KN and km — kn (1 Cor. 7), therefore KN == kn; and
since from the similar triangles KPN, kY?i, KN : kn — KP,
AP, therefore KP is equal to AP.
Prop. X.
Any chord not passing through the centre, but parallel
to a tangent, is bisected by the diameter that passes
through the point of contact; or it is an ordinate to
that diameter.
Let F, f be the foci of an ellipse, and let straight lines
HP, Yip, which intersect each other at H, touch the el¬
lipse at P and p, also let HF, Hf be lines drawn to the
foci; the angles PHF, pYif are equal.
The same construction being made as in Prop. VI., be¬
cause the angles FHK, FHA are equal,
and FHK
f ~FHP +PHK
'. = Yl
FHP +PH/
(= 2FHP + FH/;
and in like manner,
( = FHp + pllk
FHAV = FHj» +pUf
( = 2/Hp + FH/,
therefore 2FHP + FH/= 2/Hp + YHf,
and hence 2FHP = 2fHp, and F'HP =fHp.
Prop. IX.
If two tangents to an ellipse be at the extremities of a
chord, and a third tangent be parallel to the chord ; the
part of this tangent intercepted by the other two is
bisected at the point of contact.
H
Let HD, He? be tangents at the extremities of the
chord De?, and KPA a tangent parallel to De?, meeting the
other tangents in K and k; the intercepted segment K&
is bisected at P, the point of contact.
From the points of contact D, P, d, draw lines to F,
The chord DEr?, which is parallel to Kk, a tangent at
P, is bisected at E by the diameter PCp.
Draw Lpl, a tangent at p, the other end of the diameter,
and DH, £?H, tangents at D and d, the extremities of the
chord, meeting the other tangents in K, k, and L, l: Then
KPA and Ypl are bisected at P and p (9) ; therefore the
diameter Yp, when produced, will pass through H, and
bisect Dc?, which is parallel to K& or L?, in E. (Lemma
to Prop. 8, Part I.)
Cor. 1. Straight lines which touch an ellipse in the ex¬
tremities of an ordinate to any diameter, intersect each
other in that diameter.
Cor. 2. Every ordinate to a diameter is parallel to a
tangent at its vertex: for if not, let a tangent be drawn
parallel to the ordinate ; then the diameter drawn through
the point of contact would bisect the ordinate ; and thus
the same line would be bisected in two different points,
which is absurd.
Cor. 3. All the ordinates to the same diameter are pa¬
rallel to each other.
Cor. 4. A straight line that bisects two parallel chords,
and terminates in the curve, is a diameter.
Cor. 5. The ordinates to either axis are perpendicular
to that axis: and no other diameter is perpendicular to
its ordinates.
Prop. XL
If a tangent to an ellipse meet a diameter, and from the
point of contact an ordinate be drawn to that diameter;
the semidiameter will be a mean proportional between
the segments of the diameter intercepted between the
centre and the ordinate, and between the centre and
the tangent.
CONIC SECTIONS.
For DE2 t d<? ~ AE • Eot: Ae * ea ~ HE“ : h<?
therefore DE : de — HE : he.
Cor. 4. If a circle be described on Aa the transverse
axis as a diameter, and DE, any ordinate to the axis^be
produced to meet the circle in H; HE shall be to DE as
the transverse axis A« to the conjugate axis 13&. bor,
produce the conjugate axis to meet the circle in K, then,
by last corollary,
HE : DE r= KC, or AC : BC = Aa : BA
Cor. 5. And if HE be divided at D, so that HE is to
DE as the transverse axis to the conjugate axis, D is a
point in the ellipse, and DE a semi-ordinate to the axis Aa.
Prop. XIV.
In B6, the conjugate axis of an ellipse, let there be taken
on each side of the centre C, straight lines CK, G«,
each a fourth proportional to CF, the eccentricity, ond
CA, CB, half the transverse and conjugate axes: If
then from P, a vertex of any diameter, there be drawn
PH perpendicular to B&; the square of the semi-dia¬
meter PC will have to the rectangle contained by the
segments KH, &H, the constant ratio of the square of
CF to the square of CB.
Cor. 3. Diameters which make equal angles with the ,
transverse axis on opposite sides of it are equal; and only ^
two equal diameters can be drawn, one on each side of
the transverse axis.
Prop. XV.
If an ordinate be drawn to any diameter of an ellipse, the
rectangle under the abscisses of the diameter is to the
square of the semi-ordinate as the diameter to its pa.
rameter.
PL2;
Draw PL perpendicular to the transverse axis.
Because (13 of this, and 5, 2, E.)
CA2: CB2 = CA2 — CL2: PL2,
and, by division,
CA2 — CB2: CB2 = CA2 — (CL2 + PL2)
therefore (4 Cor. 1, and 47, 1, E.)
CF2 : CB2 = CA2 — PC2 : PL2 or CH2.
But, by hypothesis, CF2 : CB2 = CA2 : CK2;'
therefore CA2 : CK2 = CA2 — PC2: CH2,
and hence (19, 5, E.)
PC2 : CK2 — CH2 = CA2 : CK2,
and (5, 2, E.)
PC2 : KH * HA = CA2: CK2 = CF2 : CB2.
Cor. 1. Hence the squares of any semidiameters PC,
QC, are to one another as the rectangles KH • HA,
KI * IA, contained by the segments of the line KA, be¬
tween its extremities, and perpendiculars from the ver¬
tices of the diameters.
Cor. 2. The transverse axis is the greatest diameter,
and the conjugate axis the least; and a diameter which
is nearer to the transverse axis is greater than one more
remote.
By hypothesis CF : CA = CB : CK, therefore CK is
greater than CB, and the points K, A, are without the
ellipse : Suppose now a semidiameter PC to turn about C,
and that in every position PH is perpendicular to KA .*
The rectangle KH * HA will manifestly be greatest when
PC coincides with AC, and least when it coincides with
BC, and will decrease continually while PC passes from
the position AC to BC; therefore the same will be true
of the revolving semidiameter PC, which has a constant
ratio to the rectangle KH • HA.
Let DE be a semi-ordinate to the diameter Yp, let PG
be the parameter of the diameter, and Q? the conjugate
diameter. By the definition of the parameter (Def. 13),
Pjo : Qg = Q<7 : PG,
therefore P» : PG = Pjo2 : Q,q°' (2 Cor. 20, 6, E.).
But Pjr>2 : Q?2 = PE • Ejo : DE2 (13);
therefore PE • Ep : DE2 Pp : PG.
Cor. Let the parameter PG be perpendicular to the
diameter Pp,* join joG, and from E draw EM parallel to
PG, meeting joG in M. The square of DE, the semi¬
ordinate, is equal to the rectangle contained by PE
and EM.
For PE • Ep : DE2 = Pp : PG,
and Pp : PG :: Ep : EM = PE • Ep : PE • EM,
therefore DE2 zz PE * EM.
Scholium. If the rectangles PGLp, HGKM, be com¬
pleted, it will appear that the square of ED is equal to
the rectangle MP, which rectangle is less than the rect¬
angle KP, contained by the absciss PE and parameter
PG, by a rectangle KH similar and similarly situated to
LP, the rectangle contained by the diameter and para¬
meter. It was on account of the deficiency of the square
of the ordinate from the rectangle contained by the ab¬
sciss and parameter that Apollonius called the curve line
to which the property belonged an ellipse.
Prop. XVI.
If from the vertices of two conjugate diameters of an el¬
lipse there be drawn ordinates to any third diameter;
the square of the segment of that diameter intercepte
between either ordinate and the centre is equal to the
rectangle contained by the segments between the other
ordinate and the vertices of the same diameter.
CONIC SECTIONS.
233
Let Vp, Qq be two conjugate diameters, and PE, QG
semi-ordinates to any third diameter Hr ; CG2 = RE* Er,
and CE2 = RG * Gn ^
Draw the tangents PH, QK meeting Rr in H and K.
The rectangles HC * CE and KC * CG are equal, for each
is equal to CR2 (H), therefore
4 HC : CK = CG : CE.
But the triangles HPC, CQK are evidently similar (Cor.
Def. 12)> and PE being parallel to QG, their bases CH,
KC are similarly divided at E and G, therefore
HC : CK = HE : CG,
wherefore CG : CE = HE : CG,
consequently CG2 = CE * EH = (1 Cor. 10) RE • Er. In
like manner it may be shown that CE2 = RG * Gr.
Cor. 1. Let Ss be the diameter that is conjugate to Rr,
then Rr is to Ss as CG to PE, or as CE to QG.
For Rr2 : Ss2 = RE * Er, or CG2 : PE2;
therefore Rr : Ss :: CG : PE.
In like manner Rr : Ss : : CE : QG.
Cor. 2. The sum of the squares of CE, CG, the seg¬
ments of the diameter to which the semi-ordinates PE,
QG are drawn, is equal to the square of CR the semi¬
diameter.
For CE2+ CG2 = CE2 + RE * Er = CR2.
Cor. 3. The sum of the squares of any two conjugate
diameters is equal to the sum of the squares of the axes.
Let Rr, Ss be the axes, and Yp, Qq any two conjugate
diameters; draw PE, QG perpendicular to Rr, and PL,
QM perpendicular to Ss. Then
rF2 _i_ frja — r-jja
and CM2 + CL2, or GQ2 + PE2 =CS2,
therefore CE2 + PE2 + CG2 + GQ2= CR2 + CS2;
that is, (47, 1, E.) CP2 + CQ2 = CR2 + CS2,
therefore Pjo2 + Q^2 = Rr2 + Ss2.
Prop. XVII.
If four straight lines be drawn touching an ellipse at the
vertices of any two conjugate diameters ; the parallelo¬
gram formed by these lines is equal to the rectangle
contained by the transverse and conjugate axes.
Let Yp, Qq be any two conjugate diameters ; a par;
telegram DEGH formed by tangents to the curve at tin
vertices is equal to the rectangle contained by Ao, I
the two axfcs. J
• ^ro(i.u?e one of tbe axes, to meet the tangent I
111 , join QK, and draw PL, QM perpendicular to Ac
Because CK : CA = CA : CL (II),
and CA : CB = CL : QM (1 Cor. 16),
exaeq. CK : CB = CA : QM,
CK * QM = CB • CA (16, 6, E.).
tfutLK * QM=twice trian. CKQ-paral. CPEQ (41,1, E
ami I ,. ore the Parallelogram CPEQ = CB • CA,
9ua(lruples of these, the parallelogra
is equal to the rectangle contained by Aa and F
VOL. VII. J
Prop. XVIII.
If two tangents at the vertices of any diameter of an ellipse
meet a third tangent; the rectangle contained by their
segments between the points of contact and the points
of intersection is equal to the square of the semidia¬
meter to which they are parallel. And the rectangle
contained by the segments of the third tangent between
its point of contact and the parallel tangents is equal
to the square of the semidiameter to which it is pa¬
rallel.
Let PH, ph, tangents at the vertices of a diameter Yp,
meet HD/j, a tangent to the curve at any point D, in H
and/L* let CQ be the semidiameter to which the tan¬
gents PH, ph are parallel, and CR that to which H/i is
parallel;
PH • ph = CQ2, and DH * T>h = CR2.
If the tangent HD/i be parallel to Yp, the proposition
is manifest. If it be not parallel, let it meet the semi¬
diameters CP, CQ, in L and K. Draw DE, RM parallel
to CQ, and DG parallel to CP.
Because LP • Ljo =: LE • LC (2 Cor. 11),
LP : LE = LC : Yp ;
hence, and because of the parallels PH, ED, CK, ph,
PH ; ED = CK : ph,
wherefore PH • ph — ED • CK.
But ED • CK = CG • CK = CQ2 (11),
therefore PH • ph — CQ2.
Again, the triangles LED, CMR are evidently similar,
and LE, LD similarly divided at H and P, also at h and »,
therefore PE ; HD = (LE : LD =) CM : CR,
also pE : KD — (LE : LD =) CM : CR;
hence, taking the rectangles of the corresponding terms,
PE -^E : HD • hD :: CM2 : CR2 (3 Cor. 20, 6, E.)
But if CD be joined, the points D and R are evidently
the vertices of two conjugate diameters (Cor. Def. 12),
and therefore PE • pE = CM2 (16);
therefore HD • hD — CR2.
Cor. The rectangle contained by LD and DK, the seg¬
ments of a tangent intercepted between D, the point of
contact, and Yp, Qq, any two conjugate diameters, is equal
to the square of CR, the semidiameter to which the tan¬
gent is parallel.
Let the parallel tangents PH, ph meet LK in H and h,
and draw DE a semi-ordinate to Yp. Because of the pa¬
rallels PH, ED, CK, ph,
LE : LD = EP : DH,
and EC : DK :: Ejo : Dh ;
therefore LE * EC ; LD * DK :: EP * E/>: DH * Dh.
But LE • EC = EP • Ep (1 Cor. 9),
therefore LD • DK =» DH • Dh = (by this Prop.) CR2.
Prop. XIX.
If two straight lines be drawn from the foci of an ellipse
perpendicular to a tangent; straight lines drawn from
2 G
-Ellipse.
CONIC SECTIONS.
the centre to the points in which they meet the tan¬
gent will each be equal to half the transverse axis.
gate axis in h ; the rectangle contained by CL and DH 1%.
is equal to the square of CB, the semi-conjugate axis;Uj.
and the rectangle contained by CL and D/« is equal to
the square of CA, the semi-transverse axis.
Let DPd be a tangent to the curve at P, and ¥D,fd
perpendiculars to the tangent from the foci; the straight
lines joining the points C, D, and C, d, are each equal to^
AC, half the transverse axis.
Join FP,/P, and produce FD,/P till they intersect in
E. The triangles FDP, EDP have the angles at D light
angles, and the angles FPD, EPD equal (4), and the side
DP common to both ; they are therefore equal, and con¬
sequently have ED = DF, and EP— PF, therefore E/
_ pp P/’=z Aa. Now the straight lines FE, F/, being
bisected at D and C, the line DC is parallel to E/, and
thus the triangles F/E, FCD are similar ;
therefore F/":/E or Aa = 4C : CD.
But FC is half of ¥/ therefore CD is half of Aa. In like
manner it may be shown that i^d is half of Act.
Cor. If the diameter Qq be drawn parallel to the tan¬
gent T>d, it will cut off from PF, P/ the segments PG, P<A
each equal to AC half the transverse axis. For U/PCr,
CDP<?, are parallelograms, therefore PG = dC — AC, and
P<7 = DC = AC.
Prop. XX.
The rectangle contained by perpendiculars drawn from
the foci of an ellipse to a tangent is equal to the square
of half the conjugate axis.
(See Figure to Prop. XIX.)
Let DPd be a tangent, and FD,/d, perpendiculars from
the foci; the rectangle contained by FD and/c? is equal to
the square of CB half the conjugate axis. .
It is evident from the last proposition that the points D,
d are in the circumference of a circle whose centre is the
centre of the ellipse, and radius CA half the transverse
axis ; now FDc? being a right angle, if dC be joined, the
lines DF, dC, when produced, will meet at H, apoint in
the circumference ; and since tC—/C, and CFI — Gr/, and
the angles FCH,/Cd are equal, FH is equal to/d; there-
fore
DF • df=m • FH=AF • Fa (35, 3, E.)=CB2 (3).
Cor. If PF, Yf be drawn from the point of contact to
the foci, the square of FD is a fourth proportional to /P,
FP and BC2. For the lines fP, FP make equal angles
with the tangent (4 Cor. 4), and/dP, FDP are right angles,
therefore the triangles/Pd, FPD are similar, and
/P : FP =/d : FT) =/d • FD or CB2 : FD2.
Prop. XXI.
If from C the centre of an ellipse a straight line CL be
drawn perpendicular to a tangent LD, and fiom D the
point of contact a perpendicular be drawn to the tan¬
gent, meeting the transverse axis in H and the conju-
Produce the axes to meet the tangent in M and m, and
from D draw the semi-ordinates DE, De, which will be
perpendicular to the axes.
The triangles DEH, CLm are evidently equiangular,
therefore
DH : DE = Cm : CL;
— hence CL • DH=DE * Cm.
But DE • Cm, or Ce • Cm=BC2 (11),
therefore CL • DH=BC2.
In the same way it is shown that CL * D/«=AC2.
Cor. 1. If a perpendicular be drawn to a tangent at the
point of contact, the segments intercepted between the
point of contact and the axes are to each other recipro¬
cally as the squares of the axes by which they are termi¬
nated. •
For AC2 : BC2 : : CL • DA : CL • DH : : DA : DH.
Cor. 2. If DF be drawn to either focus, and HK be
drawn perpendicular to DF, the straight line DK shall be
equal to half the parameter of the transverse axis.
Draw CG parallel to the tangent at D, meeting DH in
N, and DF in G. The triangles GDN, HDK are similar,
therefore
GD : DN = HD : DK,
and hence GD * DK = HD * DN.
But GD = AC (Cor. 19), and ND = CL,
therefore AC * DK = HD • CL = (by the Prop.) CB2;
wherefore AC : BC = BC : DK;
hence DK is half the parameter of Aa (Def. 13).
Definitions.
XIV. If a point G be taken in the transverse axis of an
ellipse produced, so that the distance of G from the cent
may be a third proportional to CF the ^.ccei}J”c,lt^rawn
C A the semi-transverse axis; a straight hne H j > .
through G perpendicular to the axis, is called t
^Sifrif MFm, an ordinate to the axis, be drawn
through the focus; tangents to the ellipse at the ex
ties of the ordinate will meet the axis at the poin 1
lips
CONIC SECTIONS.
Cob. 2. The ellipse has two directrices, for the point G
may be taken on either side of the centre.
Prop. XXII.
The distance of any point in an ellipse from either direc¬
trix is to its distance from the focus nearest that direc¬
trix in the constant ratio of the semitransverse axis to
the eccentricity.
Let Aa be the transverse, and the conjugate axes.
About either extremity of the conjugate axis as a cen-
tie, with a radius equal to CA, half the transverse axis,
describe arcs cutting that axis in F and/; these points
will be the foci (4 Cor. 1). Let the ends of a string equal
in length to Aa be fastened at the points F, f, and let the
stung be stretched by a pin at D, and while it is keptuni-
rormly tense, let the point of the pin be carried along the
plane about the centre C, till it return to the place from
whence it set out. By this motion the point of the pin
wrill trace on the plane a curve which will be the ellipse
required, as is evident from the definition of the ellipse.
Prop. XXIV.
An ellipse being given by position; to find its axes.
H B
Let D be any point in the ellipse, let DK be drawn per¬
pendicular to the directrix, and let DF be drawn to the
focus nearest the directrix; DK is to DF as CA, half the
transverse axis, to CF, the eccentricity.
Draw D/to the other focus, and DE perpendicular to
Ka; take L a point in the axis, so that AL =; FD, and
consequently La = D/; then CL is evidently half the
difference between AL and aL, or FD and /D, and CE
half the difference between/E and FE; and because
D/+DF :/F =/E — FE: D/— DF (K, and 16 of 6, E.).
By taking the halves of the terms of the proportion,
CA : CF = CE : CL.
But CA : CF = CG : CA (Def. 14),
therefore CG : CA = CE : CL;
hence (19, 5, E.) EG : AL = CG : CA = CA : CF,
that is, DK : DF = CA : CF.
Cor. 1. If the tangent GMN be drawn through M, the
extremity of the ordinate passing through the focus, and
ED be produced to meet GM in N, EN shall be equal to
DF. For draw MO perpendicular to the directrix, then,
because M and D are points in the ellipse,
FM : FD = MO : DK = FG : EG.
But the triangles GFM, GEN being similar,
FG : EG = FM : EN;
therefore FM : FD = FM : EN,
and hence FD = EN.
Cor. 2. If AI and ai be drawn perpendicular to the
transverse axis at its extremities, meeting the tangent GM
i in I and i, then AI = AF and ai — aF.
For GA : AF = OM : MF = GF : MF = GA : AI,
i therefore AF = AI; and, in like manner, it may be shown
that aF = ai.
Prop. XXIII. Problem.
Two unequal straight lines which bisect each other at
right angles being given by position; to describe an
ellipse of which these may be the two axes, by a me¬
chanical construction.
Let ABHO a moveable circle (which may be called the
generating circle), whose centre is C, roll along DHrf a
Let AFab be the given ellipse : draw two parallel
chords H/«, KA, and bisect them at L and M; join LM,
and produce it to meet the ellipse in P and p, then Fp is
a diameter (4 Cor. 10). Bisect P/> in C ; the point C is
the centre of the ellipse (2).
Take D any point in the ellipse, and on C as a centre,
with the distance CD, describe a circle. If this circle be
wholly without the curve, then CD must be half the trans¬
verse axis; but if it be wholly within the curve, then CD
must be half the conjugate axis (14). If the circle neither
be wholly without nor wholly within the ellipse, let the
circle meet it again in d. Join Ld, and bisect F)d in E ;
join CE, and produce CE to meet the ellipse in A and a :
then Aa will be one of the axes (5 Cor. 10); for it is per¬
pendicular to the line Ld (3, 3, E.), which is an ordinate
to Aa: the other axis BA will be found by drawing a
straight line through the centre perpendicular to Aa.
Prop. XXV.
If a moveable circle roll along the concave circumference
of a fixed circle in the same plane, and the radius of the
former be half that of the latter ; any given point in its
circumference will describe a diameter of the fixed circle.
Prop. XXVI.
236
Ellipse
CONIC SECTIONS.
fixed circle, of which 0 is the centre, both being in the
slime plane, and let the radius CH be half of the ladius
OH; any given point A in the circumference of the ge¬
nerating circle will always be in De?, some diameter given
in position of the other circle.
Let H be the point of contact of the circles : the points
H, C, O are in a straight line (11, 3, E.); and because the
diameter of the inner circle is half that of the outer circle,
one of its extremities will always be at O, the centre of
If a moveable or generating circle roll along the concave
circumference of a fixed circle in the same plane, and
the radius of the former be half that of the latter, as in
the preceding proposition ; any given point in the plane
of the generating circle, within or without it, will de¬
scribe an ellipse, of which conjugate diameters will be
given in position.
the fixed circle. . .
Suppose that at the beginning of the motion the point
A was at D, a given point in the circumference of the
fixed circle, and that by rolling along the arch DH, the
generating circle has come to the position OAH: draw
AC to its centre, and bisect the angle ACH, and conse¬
quently the arch AH, by the radius LC.
The arch DH is equal to the arch AH, because every
element of the one has been applied to an equal cor¬
responding element of the other: therefore the arch DH
is double the arch BH, and the radius of the circle
is by hypothesis double the radius of the ciicle BH. Now
in different circles, equal angles at their centres stand on
arches which have the same ratio as their circumferences
or their radii, therefore an angle at O, the centre of the
fixed circle, standing on the arch DH, will be equal to
the angle BCH, that is, to the angle AOH (20, 3, E.);
hence a straight line drawn through O and A will pass
through the given point D; thus A will always be in the
diameter DOc?, which is given by position, and by the mo¬
tion of the circle will describe that diameter.
Cor. 1. A diameter DOc? drawn through the moving
point A, in any one position, will be its Locus in every po¬
sition.
Cor. 2. The generating circle will have made two com¬
plete revolutions about its centre C when its diameter
has completed one revolution about the centre O.
Cor. 3. When the generating circle has made a com¬
plete revolution about O, every point in its circumference
will have described a diameter, passing twice through the
centre, and have returned to its first position.
Scholium. The refined notion of generating lines by
supposing a curve to roll along a straight line oi cuive, is
due to the moderns.
Galileo appears to have been the first who introduced
it into geometry, and in this way he indicated the cycloid,
the discussion of which by Mersenne, Descartes, Pascal,
and others, was the beginning of that series of discoveries
which has since gradually expanded into the modern geo¬
metry. The ancients, however, in some cases employed
motion in the formation of geometrical figures. Euclid
defined a sphere to be the solid figure described by the
revolution of a semicircle about its diameter, which re¬
mains unmoved; and Archimedes defined his spiral by the
uniform motion of a point along a straight line which at
the same time turns with an uniform angular motion about
one of its extremities. The preceding proposition, and the
following, may be established by the ordinary method of
geometrical reasoning; or instead of supposing one circle
to roll on another, we might suppose the diameter of the
generating circle to turn about the centre of the fixed
circle with a uniform angular motion, while at the same
time it turned uniformly about its own centre, so as to
make two complete revolutions in the time its diameter
makes one. It then might be easily shown, that the ex¬
tremity of any radius of the revolving circle would de¬
scribe a diameter of a fixed circle.
The property here demonstrated is elegant, and re¬
markable in having been applied in mechanics to the pro¬
duction of a reciprocating rectilinear motion by means of
a rotatory motion.
Let DHED'E' be the fixed circle, O its centre, and
AHBO the generating circle, which rolls along the con¬
cave circumference DHE : any given point P (the ge¬
nerating point) in the plane of this circle, within or with¬
out it, will describe an ellipse given in position.
Take a given point A anywhere in the circumference
of the generating circle, and draw a straight line through
A, and the generating point P, meeting the circumference
in B: Thus A and B will be given points in the circle,
and AP, PB lines given in magnitude. Draw OD, 0E,
radii of the fixed circle, through the points A and B:
these will be lines given in position. (Preceding Prop.)
Let OCH be the revolving diameter of the generating
circle, and C its centre. When OH has made a complete
revolution about the centre O, the point A will have been
twice at O, and BP, one of the segments of AB, will have
coincided entirely with OM, OM', equal segments of the
diameter DD', on opposite sides of the centre ; therefore,
if in DD' there be taken OM and OM', each equal to the
line BP, M and M' will be given points in which the locus
of P cuts the line DD'.
For a like reason AP, the other segment of AB, will
have coincided with segments of the diameter EE'in two
opposite positions, viz. ON, ON'; therefore, if ON ana
ON' be taken each equal AP, N and N' will be also given
points in which the locus of P intersects the line EE.
By the motion of the generating circle, the point B,
either of the extremities of the revolving chord AB, will
in the course of a revolution have come to E, a point ^
the circumference of the fixed circle. The angle OAB
will then be in a semicircle (of the generating circle), and
AB will have the position of a perpendicular to OD. Eet
this be the line EF, which will be given in position, ami
also in magnitude, because it is equal to the chord BA-
Take FQ =r AP, therefore QE = PB ; then Q will be a
fifth given point in the locus of P. Join QO, and talce
OQ' = OQ: the line QQ', which is bisected at O, will oe
given in position and magnitude. Draw BK perpendicu-
CONIC SECTIONS.
[lips
-rr
lar to OD, and PI parallel to it, meeting BK in I. The
\ triangles BPI, BAK are similar (4, 6, E.), therefore
BI : IK = BP : PA = EQ : QF:
Because the lines BK, EF are similarly divided at Q and
I, the points O, I, Q, are in a straight line (Lemma to
Prop. 8, Part I.), so that I is in the line QOQ'.
Again, because EO : OB = QO : 01,
and that OB cannot exceed OE, therefore 01 cannot be
greater that OQ; and when AB is not perpendicular to
DD', the point I will always be between Q and Qf: in no
case can it be beyond these limits.
The triangles OQE, OIB, are similar (4, 6, E.), there¬
fore their sides are proportionals, and
OQ2 : OI2 = QE2 or BP2 : BI2,
and, by division, OQ2 : QI • IQ' = BP2 : PI2 ;
hence, by alternation, and observing that BP = OM,
OQ2 : OM2 = QI • IQ': PI2 ;
therefore the point P is in an ellipse, of which QQ' and MM',
lines given in magnitude and position, are conjugate dia¬
meters (converse of 13).
Cor. 1. The ellipse described by the generating point P
depends entirely on the magnitude of the generating cir¬
cle AOB, and the position of the point in its plane, that
is, on OC the radius of the circle, and CP its distance
from the centre; therefore, whatever be the position of
the revolving chord AB, if it always pass through the
same point P, the ellipse will be the same, and have the
same position on the plane of the fixed circle.
Cor. 2. The position of DD', EE', the diameters of the
fixed circle, which are the loci of the extremities of the
revolving chord AB, and consequently the position of
MM' NN', the diameters of the ellipse, depend entirely
on the position of the chord in respect of the centre ;
they will be different for different chords, but for the
same chord they will have a fixed position. This is evi¬
dent from the last proposition.
Cor. 3. The semidiameters OM, ON of the ellipse in
which (produced if necessary) the revolving chord termi¬
nates, are equal to the distances of the generating point
P from the ends of the chord, viz. OM to PB, and ON to
PA, and the angle which the diameters MM', NN' make
at the centre is half the angle which the chord subtends
at the centre of the generating circle ; for in the course
of a revolution of the generating circle about the centre
Q, the segments PB, PA of the chord will have been ap¬
plied upon the lines OM, ON, so as entirely to coincide
with them: the rest is evident (20, 3, E.).
Cor. 4. When the revolving chord AB comes into the
position EF, a perpendicular to MM', either of the diame¬
ters, which are the loci of its extremities, it then passes
through Q, a vertex of the diameter QOQ', which is the
conjugate of MM', and in this position it is a normal to
* the ellipse : for a tangent to the ellipse at Q is parallel to
MM', and therefore perpendicular to EF.
Scholium. From this proposition it appears that if the
ends of a straight line AB of a given length be carried
along two straight lines DOD', EOE', given in position ; any
point P in AB (or in AB produced), at given distances
from its extremities, will describe an ellipse, the centre of
which will be at the intersection of the lines given in po¬
sition. It is upon this principle that elliptic compasses and
lathes for turning ovals are constructed. An instrument
for describing ellipses will be described farther on.
Prop. XXVII.
Supposing the ellipse MPN, whose centre is O, to have
been described according to the hypothesis of Prop,
j XXVI.; let AOB be the generating circle in any posi¬
tion on the plane of the fixed circle, and P the generat¬
ing point, which is also a point in the ellipse ; through
P draw any chord APB; join OA and OB; take OM
and OM' in contrary directions, each equal to PB, and
ON and ON' in contrary directions, each equal to PA ;
then MM', NN' w ill be two diameters of the ellipse.
Since A and B are points in the circumference of the
generating circle, and O is the centre of the fixed circle,
the lines AO, BO will have the same position in the el¬
lipse for all positions of the chord AB, because they are
the loci of the points A, B ; therefore (3 Cor. 26) the semi¬
diameters OM, ON will be respectively equal to PB and
PA, the distances of P from the ends of the chord AB;
hence if OM, ON be taken equal to PA and PB, the
points MN will be the vertices of diameters of the ellipse.
Cor. And if other chords ab, &c. be drawn through P,
and Oa, Ob, &c. be joined, and there be taken Om equal
to &P, and On equal to Pa, &c. then m, n, &c. will be
points in the ellipse; and in this way any number of points
whatever may be found from a single position of the gene¬
rating circle.
Prop. XXVIII.
Supposing an ellipse to be described according to the hy¬
pothesis of Prop. XXVI. if the generating point be
within the generating circle (fig. 1), half the sum of its
semiaxes is equal to the radius of the circle; and half
their difference, to the distance of the generating point
from its centre. But if the point be without the circle
(fig. 2), then half the difference of the semiaxes is equal
to its radius, and half their sum to the distance of the
generating point from its centre.
Let AOB be the generating circle (fig. 1 and 2), and
P the generating point, at any point in the curve. It ap¬
pears from Prop. XXVI. Cor. 4, that a chord in the circle
passing through P and A, the intersection of the circle,
and MM', one of the axes, will also pass through B, the
point in which it meets the other axis NN’; and in this
■S' FC
238
CONIC SECTIONS.
Hyperbola, case the chord will pass through C the centre (31, 3, E.), the conic sections, although the extreme case, viz. that in
because the axes form right angles at the centre of the which the ellipse, by the shortening of its lesser axis, de- Wy,
'Ti-.Qi-ofnrpv whr»n thp nnini is witliin fhp rirole s'enerates into a straight line ol a given length (Iron,
ellipse. Therefore when the point P is within the circle
AOB (fig. 1), the radius OC or AC is half the sum of
BP and AP, that is, of OM and ON, the semiaxes (27);
and CP, the distance of the generating point from the
centre, is half the difference of PA and PB, or of OM and
ON.
Fig. 2.
N
generates into a straight line of a given length (Prop.
25), is always mentioned by writers on cycloids.
When the generating point P is without the circle AOB
(fig. 2j, then the radius OC or AC is manifestly half the
difference of AP and BP; and CP, the distance of the
generating point from the centre, is half the sum of AP
and BP, that is, of OM and ON, the semiaxes.
Cor. 1. Hence it appears that the same ellipse may be
described by two different generating circles (each rolling
on its own fixed circle), viz. by one whose diameter is the
sum of the semiaxes, and by another whose diameter is
their difference ; in the first way the generating point will
be within the circle, and in the second without it.
Cor. 2. Also it appears that the chord of the generating
circle, intercepted between the diameters of the ellipse that
pass through its extremities (and which passes through
the generating point), is equal to the sum of the semidia¬
meters when the generating point is within the circle, but
to their difference when the point is without the circle.
Scholium. The curves which may be generated by a
point in the plane of a moveable circle which rolls along the
circumference of a fixed circle, are called cycloids, also
epicycloids. They are of two kinds, one generated by a
circle rolling on the convex circumference, and another
by its rolling on the concave. Some writers confine the
name epicycloids to the first class, and call the second
hypocycloids. It appears from this proposition that an el¬
lipse is an hypocycloid. This property of the curve has
not been observed, as far as we know, by any writer on
The property in question has suggested an instrument
for generating an ellipse elegantly, by continued motion.
A and B are two wheels, the axes of which turn in holes
C, O, near the ends of the connecting bar D. One of the
wheels B must be just half the diameter of the other A,
which may be of any size, and a band EF goes round them,
outside; an arm CP is attached to the wheel B, and ad¬
mits of being lengthened or shortened by sliding along its
surface in a socket which may be anywhere on the wheel.
Suppose now that the wheel A is fixed or kept from turn¬
ing, and that the bar D is turned round the centre O, car¬
rying at its other extremity the wheel B; the action of
the band EF will fljen turn this wheel B round its centre
C, and while the bar makes one revolution round the cen¬
tre of the fixed wheel, the other wheel will make two re¬
volutions about its centre.
The use of the sliding arm CP is to give extension to
the surface of the wheel, so that P, any point in the arm,
may be regarded as a point in the plane of a circle turn¬
ing about a moveable centre C, while that centre revolves
about a fixed centre O. From this description it is easy to
see that C, the centre of the wheel B, may be regarded as
the centre of a circle which rolls on the inside of a circle
whose centre is O; also that any point P in the plane
which is the extension of the surface of the wheel, is just
a point in the plane of the rolling circle; and since the
circle of which C is the centre makes two turns in going
round that of which O is the centre, the radius of the one
circle must be double that of the other ; and hence it fol¬
lows from the proposition that the path of the point P in
space is an ellipse.
Definitions.
I. If two points F,/ be given in a plane, and a point D
be conceived to move in such a manner that Y)f- Db, the
difference of its distances from them, is always the same;
the point D will describe upon the plane a line DAD
called an Hyperbola. By assuming first one of the given
points F, and then the other/, as that to which the moving
PART III.—OF THE HYPERBOLA.
point is nearest, the difference of the lines DF and D/ m
both cases being the same, there will be two hyperbolas
DAD', dad' described, opposite to each other, which are
therefore called Opposite Hyperbolas.
Cor. The lines DF, D/ may become greater than any
given line, therefore the hyperbolas extend to a greater
distance from the given points F,/than any which can be
assigned.
II. The given points F,/are called the Foci of the hy¬
perbola. . , ,
III. The point C, which bisects the straight line be¬
tween the foci, is called the Centre.
IV. The distance of either focus from the centre is call¬
ed the Eccentricity.
V. A straight line passing through the centre, and ter¬
minated by the opposite hyperbolas, is called a Transverse
Diameter. It is also sometimes called simply a Diameter.
VI. The extremities of a diameter are called its Vertices.
VII. The diameter which passes through the foci is call¬
ed the Transverse Axis.
CONIC SECTIONS.
239
Cor. The vertices of the transverse axis lie between the
foci. Let A be either of the vertices, then, because any
side of a triangle is greater than the difference between
the other two sides, F/ is greater than /D—DF, which is
equal to /A—FA (Def. 1). Now this can only be true
when A is between F and/.
VIII. A straight line B6 passing through the centre,
perpendicular to the transverse axis, and limited at B and
b by a circle described on one extremity of that axis, with
a radius equal to the distance of either focus from the
centre, is called the Conjugate Axis. It is also called the
Second Axis.
Cor. The conjugate axis is bisected in the centre. This
appears from 3, 3, E.
IX. Any straight line terminated both ways by the hy¬
perbola, and bisected by a transverse diameter produced,
is called an Ordinate to that diameter.
X. Each of the segments of a transverse diameter pro¬
duced, intercepted by its vertices and an ordinate, is
called an Absciss.
XI. A straight line which meets the hyperbola in one
point only, and which everywhere else falls without the
opposite hyperbolas, is said to touch the hyperbola in that
point, and is called a Ta7igent to the hyperbola.
Prop. I.
If from any point in an hyperbola two straight lines be
drawn to the foci; their difference is equal to the trans¬
verse axis.
Let DA, da be opposite hyperbolas, of which F, f are
the foci and Aa the transverse axis; let D be any point
in the curve, and DF, D/lines drawn to the foci;
D/_ DF=Aa.
Because A and a are points in the hyperbola,
A/—AF=aF—of, (Def. 1),
therefore 1/— 2 A F 1/—2af ;
hence 2AF=2(/ and AF= of,
and A/—AF=A/—af—Ka.
But D and A being points in the hyperbola,
D/_DF=A/—AF, therefore D/—DF=Aa.
Cor. 1. The difference of two straight lines drawn from
a point without the opposite hyperbolas to the foci is less
than the transverse axis, and the difference of two straight
lines drawn from a point within either of them to the foci
is greater than the transverse axis.
Let 1/ PF be lines drawn from a point without the hy¬
perbolas, that is, between the curve and its conjugate axis.
Ihe line PF must necessarily meet the curve ; let D be the
point of intersection; P/is less than PD + D/Y20, ], E.),
therefore P/—PF is less than (PD + D/) —PF, that is,
,ess D/— DF, or Aa. Again, let Q/, QF be lines
lawn from a point within either of the hyperbolas, Qf
must necessarily meet the curve; let D be the point of in-
tersection, join FD; QF is less than QD + DF, and there-
lore Q/_ QF is greater than Q/—(QD + DF), that is,
greater than D/—DF or Aa.
Cor. 2. A point is without or within the hyperbolas,
according as the difference of two lines drawn from that
point to the foci is less or greater than the transverse axis.
   nunavciae axis is oisecteu in tne centre.
Let C be the centre; then CF=:C/(Def. 3), and FA=
fa, therefore CAz=Ca.
Lemma I.
Let APB be a triangle, of which the side PA is great¬
er than the side PB; draw a straight line from P, the ver¬
tex, to O, the middle of the base AB, and straight lines
AQ, BQ, to any point in PO ; the line QA will be greater
than the line QB ; and the excess of PA above PB will
be greater than the excess of QA above QB.
Draw AC perpendicular to PO, and BD parallel to it,
meeting AC in D, and join QD, PD, this last line meet¬
ing QB in E.
The triangles AOP, BOP have AO = BO, PO com¬
mon to both, and PA greater than PB, therefore the angle
AOQ is greater than the angle BOQ (25, 1, E.); and
hence again, in the triangles AOQ, BOQ, the line AQ
will be greater than BQ (24, 1, E.).
And because CO is parallel to DB, and AO nr OB,
therefore AC = CD (3, 6, E.). The triangles ACP, DCP
have thus AC = DC, CP common, and the angle ACP
equal to DCP, therefore PA r= PD ; and in the same way
it appears that QA = QD.
And since PA is greater than PB, and QA than QB,
therefore PD is greater than PB, and QD than QB.
Again, since DE + EQ>DQ,
therefore DE + EQ—QB>DQ—QB;
that is, DE—EB>AQ—QB ;
also, since PB<TE + EB,
therefore DP—PB>DP—PE—EB ;
that is, AP—PB>DE—EB.
Now it was shown that DE—EB> AQ—QB;
much more then is AP—PB>AQ—QB.
Prop. II.
Every transverse diameter of a hyperbola is bisected in
the centre.
Let Yp be a transverse diameter; it is bisected in C;
for if CP and Op be unequal, take CQ equal to CP; from
the points P, p, Q, draw straight lines to F and/the foci.
The triangles PCF, QC/ have PC equal to QC and CF
240
CONIC SECTIONS,
Hyperbola, equal to C/ (Def. 3), and the angles at C equal, there-
fore they are in every way equal, and PF is equal to QJ.
In the same way, it appears that the triangles PC/, QCF
are equal, and that Pf is equal to QF ; therefore I/—PF
= QF—Qf; but because P and p are points in the hyper¬
bola Pf—¥P—pP —pf, therefore pP—pf= QF—Of. But
by the preceding LemmapF—pf'^>QP—QJ ; now this is
impossible ; therefore CP and Cp are not unequal, that is,
they are equal.
Cor. 1. Every transverse diameter meets the hyperbola
in two points only.
Cor. 2. Every transverse diameter divides the opposite
hyperbolas into two parts which are equal and similar,
the like parts being at opposite parts of the diameter.
Again, since CD<T)H + CH,
therefore AD—CD^>AD DH
that is, AD—CD>AH—CPI.
But it was shown that API—CH>AB—BC ;
much more then is AD—DC>AB—-BC.
-CPI;
Next let the perpendicular fall within the triangle
.BC'; take EC=EC', and join BC, DC: then BC=BC',
ABC'
and DC=DC', ^ BA_BC = BA—BC',
also DA—DC=DA—DC';
but DA—DC 7 BA—BC,
therefore DA—DC'^BA BC'.
Prop. IV. Problem.
Prop. III.
The square of half the conjugate axis of an hyperbola is
equal to the rectangle contained by the straight lines
between either focus and the extremities of the trans-
To find any number of points in an hyperbola, having
given the transverse axis and foci.
verse axis.
Draw a straight line from A, either of the extremities
of the transverse axis, to B, either extremity of the conju¬
gate axis. Then, BC2 + CA2 =: BA2 (47, 1, E.) = CP2
(Def. 7). But because Aa is bisected at C and produced
CF2= AF-Fa+CA2 (6, 2, E.),
therefore BC2 + CA2 — AF • Fa + CA2;
and BC2 = AF • Fa.
Lemma II.
Let ABC be a triangle, of which the side BA is greater
than the side BC ; draw BE perpendicular to the side AC,
and straight lines AD, CD to any point in BE; the line
DA will be greater than the line DC ; and the excess of
DA above DC will be greater than the excess of BA
above BC.
A. CEO
First, let the perpendicular BE fall without the triangle
ABC, and let AD meet BC in H.
The angle DC A is greater than BC A; but BCA being
an obtuse angle, is greater than BAG, which is acute ;
and again BAG is greater than DAC ; much more then is
DCA greater than DAC ; therefore DA is greater than
DC (19, 1, E.).
And since AIP + HB>AB,
therefore AH + HB—BC>AB—BC ;
that is, AH—HC>AB—BC.
Let F,/be the foci, Aa the transverse axis, and C the
centre. Suppose the problem resolved, and that D is a
point in the hyperbola. Join DF, T)f. lake API in the
axis equal to DF; then aH will be equal to F/ (Def. 1),
and HA + Haz=DF +D/;
but HA -p Ha=HC + Ca + Ha= 2CH,
therefore DF-4-E/=2CH.
Now DF + F)/>F/
therefore 2CH^>I/and CPP>C/.
Thus it appears that the point PI cannot be between
the foci Pf, and that it may be anywhere in the line Pf,
produced both ways.
Construction.—Take H, any point in the axis pro¬
duced both ways, except between F and / the foci, and
from F and / as centres, with the distances HA, Ha,
describe circles which will cut each other in two points
T)d, one on each side of the axis. Ihese are points in
the hyperbola. ^ .
Join DF, D/, also <7F, df. Because DF—D/=HA
—Ha=Aa, therefore D is a point in the hyperbola; and
in like manner it appears that dis a point in the hyper-
bola. „ • , r j
In this way may any number of points be found. _
Cor. 1. Any perpendicular to the transverse axis which
meets it produced either way, will cut the curve in two
points, and in no more. For if the perpendicular Drf could
meet the curve in two points D, D', on the same side of
the axis, then DF, D/.also D'F, D/, being drawn to the
foci, DF — D/would be equal to D'F —D/, which is im¬
possible (Lemma 2).
Cor. 2. Every chord Dd in an hyperbola, perpendicular
to the transverse axis, is bisected by that axis, and there¬
fore is an ordinate to it.
Cor. 3. Of all the straight lines which can be drawn
from either focus to either of the opposite hyperbolas, the
shortest is that which passes through the centre (being
produced if necessary) ; and only two equal straight lines
can be drawn from either focus to one of the opposite hy¬
perbolas, viz. one line on each side of the centre.
Scholium. From this proposition it appears that tne
opposite hyperbolas recede continually from the °j:1 an
from the axis, and that they are entirely separated from
CONIC SECTIONS.
241
b|,teach other, their nearest approach being at the vertices
of the transverse axis. Also, that if the space Dad, bound¬
ed by either, were resolved into two by cutting it along
the axis CH, the portions on each side of the axis would
entirely coincide if one were turned over on the other.
Now it was shown that the opposite hyperbolas might
be applied one upon the other, viz. the curve Dao? on
5AA (2), therefore the transverse axis divides the oppo¬
site hyperbolas into four spaces, indefinite in extent, but
which are exactly alike, and may be placed one on ano¬
ther, so as entirely to coincide.
But FD is greater than/D (Def. 1), therefore FE is Hyperbola,
gieater thanjfE, and hence E is between C and the ver-
tex of the hyperbola to which DE is a tangent.
Scholium. From the property of the hyperbola which
forms this proposition, the points F and/are called/ocf;
for rays of light proceeding from one focus, and falling
upon a polished surface whose. figure is that formed by
the revolution of the curve about the transverse axis, are
reflected in lines passing through the other focus.
Prop. VI.
Prop. V.
The straight line which bisects the angle contained by
two straight lines drawn from any point in the hyper¬
bola to the foci is a tangent to the curve at that point.
Let D be the point in the curve, let DF, F/be straight
lines drawn to the foci; the straight line DE which bisects
the angle/DF, is a tangent to the curve.
Take H any other point in DE, take DG = D/ and
join H/ HF, DG,/G; let /G meet DE in L. Because
D/=DG, and DL is common to the triangles F/L, DGL,
and the angles/DL, GDL are equal, these triangles are
equal, and/L = LG, and hence/H = HG (4, 1, E.) ; and
FH—/H = FH — PIG: but since FPI is less than FG
+ GPI, FH — HG is less than FG, that is, less than
FD—/D or Aa, therefore FH—/H is less than Aa ;
hence the point H is without the hyperbola (2 Cor. 1),
and consequently DHL is a tangent to the curve at D
(Def. 10).
Cor. 1. There cannot be more than one tangent to the
hyperbola at the same point. For D is such a point in
the line DE, that the difference of the lines DF, Df the
distances of that point from the foci, is evidently greater
than the difference of FH, /PI, the distances of H, any
other point in that line ; and if another line KD be drawn
through D, there is in like manner a point K in that line,
which will be different from D, such that the difference
of FK, /K is greater than the difference of the distances
of any other point in KD, and therefore greater than
FD—/D ; therefore the point K will be within the hy¬
perbola (2 Cor. 1), and the line KD will cut the curve.
Cor. 2. A perpendicular to the transverse axis at either
of its extremities is a tangent to the curve. The demon¬
stration is the same as for the proposition, if it be consi¬
dered that when D falls at either extremity of the axis,
the point L falls also at the extremity of the axis, and
thus the tangent DE, which is always perpendicular to
/L, is perpendicular to the axis.
Cor. 3. Every tangent to either of the opposite hyper¬
bolas passes between that hyperbola and the centre. Let
the tangent DL meet the axis in E. Because DE bisects
the angle FD/
FD :/D :: FE :/E (3, 6, E.).
VOL. VII.
The tangents at the vertices of any transverse diameter
of an hyperbola are parallel.
:p/
Let Vp be a diameter, HP, hp tangents at its vertices;
draw straight lines from P and to F and f the foci. The
triangles FCP, fCp, having FC = /C, CP = Cp (2), and
the angles at C equal, are in all respects equal; and be¬
cause the angle FPC is equal to Cpf, FP is parallel to
fp (27, 1, E.), therefore 1/ is equal and parallel to /lF
(S3, 1, E.): thus FP/p is a parallelogram of which the
opposite angles P and p are equal (34, 1, E.). Now the
angles FPH, fph are the halves of these angles (4),
therefore the angles FPH, />//, and hence CPH, Cph, are
also equal, and consequently HP is parallel to hp.
Cor. 1. If tangents be drawn to an hyperbola at the
vertices of a transverse diameter, straight lines drawn from
either focus to the points of contact make equal angles
with these tangents; for the angle Fph is equal to FPH.
Cor. 2. The transverse axis is the only diameter which
is perpendicular to tangents at its vertices. For let Vp
be any other diameter. The angle CPH is less than
FPH, that is, less than the half of Wf, therefore CPH
is less than a right angle.
Prop. VII.
If a straight line be drawn from either focus of an hyper¬
bola to the intersection of twm tangents to the curve, it
will make equal angles with straight lines drawn from
the same focus to the point of contact.
242
CONIC SECTIONS.
Hyperbola. Let HP, Hp, tangents to an hyperbola at P 1"‘
tersect each other at H ; draw PF^F, HF, to f, ^ther
of the foci; the line HF makes equal angles with , ?P-
Draw Pf,pf to f, the other focus, and m FP, ^ ta
PK = P/ and pk = pf; join HK, FI/i, and draw/lv,/ ,
meetintr the tangents in G and g.
The triangles HPK, HP/* have PK = P/>P/IJ.CT™0^
to both, and the angles KPH,/PH equal (5) 5 _ „ “
fore they are in every way equal, and have HK — /*
In the same way it may be shown, that the triangles
HpA, Hp/ are in every way equal, and therefore that
H The triangles HFK, UFk have HK = HA (for each is
equal to Hf), HF common to both, and LK — F/e, be¬
cause each is equal to PF-P/, or pF—pf, that is, to the
transverse axis; therefore they are in all respects equal;
and the angle HFK is equal to the angle HF/e; wherefore
HF makes equal angles with FP and Fp.
Cor. Perpendiculars drawn from the intersection of
two tangents to straight lines drawn from either focus
through the points of contact are equal. Let HI, FLi be
perpendiculars drawn from H, the intersection of the
tano-ents PH, pFL on the lines FP, Fp. The triangles
HFI, HF* are in all respects equal (26, 1, E.); therefore
HI=H*.
Prop. VIII.
Straight lines drawn from the intersection of two tangents
to the foci, make equal angles with the tangents.
Let HD, Fid be tangents at the extremities of the chord
F)d; and let KA, a tangent parallel to Drf, meet the other
two tangents in K and A. The intercepted segment KA is
bisected at P, the point of contact.
From the points of contact D, P, d, draw lines to F,
either of the foci; and from H, K, A, the intersections
of the tangents, draw perpendiculars to the lines drawn
from the points of contact to the foci, viz. LII, H* perpen¬
dicular to DF, dF, and KM, KN perpendicular to FD,
FP, and hm, kn perpendicular to Fd, FP.
The triangles DHI, DKM are manifestly equiangular,
also the triangles dUi, dkm ;
therefore DPI : DK — HI ; KM (4, 6, E.),
and <fH : dk — H* : Am.
But because Fid is parallel to KA, a side of the triangle
HKA, DFT: DK = dFi : dk (2,6, E.),
therefore HI : KM — H*', Am.
Now HI = H* (Cor. 7), therefore KM = Am; but KM
=: KN, and Am = kn (Cor. 7), therefore KN = hi-,
and since from the similar triangles KPN, kFn, KN : In
= KP : AP, therefore KP is equal to AP.
Lemma III.
Let KLJ be a triangle, having its base FI bisected at
p, and let HA, any straight line parallel to the base, and
terminated by the sides produced, be bisected at P, then
P, p, the points of bisection, and K, the vertex of the tri¬
angle, are in the same straight line, and that line bisects
Dd any other line parallel to the base.
h> P
Let F, / be the foci of an hyperbola, and let straight
lines HP, Hp, which intersect each other at H, touch the
hyperbola at P and jo; also let HF, H/be lines drawn to
the foci; and let FH be produced to any distance O, the
angles PHO, piFf are equal.
The same construction being made as in Prop. 7, be¬
cause the angles FHK, FHA are equal, the angles KHO,
AHO are equal.
f = KH/-f/HO,
Now KHO l = 2PH/ + /HO,
= 2PHO—/HO,
*= kHf—/HO,
v = 2pH/—/HO
therefore 2PHO *= 2pFLf, and PHO = pHf.
and AHO
Prop. IX.
If two tangents to an hyperbola be at the extremities of
a chord, and a third tangent be parallel to the chord,
the part of this tangent intercepted by the other two is
bisected at the ooint of contact.
P l
Join KP, Kp; the triangles KHA, FLLl being similar,
and HA, FI similarly divided at P, p,
KH : KL = (HA : FI) HP : Fp.
Now the angles at H and L are equal, therefore the tnang es
KHP, KLn are similar, and the angle PKH is equal to
nKL; to both add the angle HKp, and the angles 1 K >
HK/> are equal to/>KL, HK/?, that is, to two j;s ’
therefore KP, Kp lie in the same straight line (14, 1, &-)
Next let Fid meet KP in E, then
HP : DE ( = PK : EK) = PA : Fd, and DE - Fd.
Prop. X.
Any chord not passing through the centre, but parallel to
a tangent, is bisected by the diameter which passes
CONIC SECTIONS.
through the point of contact; or it is an ordinate to
that diameter.
243
The chord DE<^, which is parallel to K&, a tangent at
P, is bisected at E by the diameter PC/?.
Draw L/?, a tangent at /?, the other end of the diameter,
and DH, dfH tangents at D and d, the extremities of the
chord meeting the other tangents in K, It and L, l. Then
KP« and L/?/ are bisected at P and p (9), therefore the
diameter Vp, when produced, will pass through H, and
bisect Dd, which is parallel to or L/ in E. (Lemma.)
Cor. 1. Straight lines which touch an hyperbola in the
extremities of an ordinate to any diameter, intersect each
other in that diameter.
Cor. 2. Every ordinate to a diameter is parallel to a
tangent at its vertex; for if not, let a tangent be drawn
parallel to the ordinate ; then the diameter drawn through
the point of contact would bisect the ordinate, and thus
the same diameter would be bisected in two different
points, which is absurd.
Cor. 3. All the ordinates to the same diameter are pa¬
rallel to each other.
Cor. 4. A straight line that bisects two parallel chords,
and terminates in the curve, is a diameter.
Cor. 5. The ordinates to either axis are perpendicular
to that axis, and no other diameter is perpendicular to its
ordinates.
Prop. XL
If a tangent to an hyperbola meet a transverse diameter,
and from the point of contact an ordinate be drawn to
that diameter, the semidiameter will be a mean propor-
, tional between the segments of the diameter intercept¬
ed between the centre and the ordinate, and between
the centre and the tangent.
* (See Figure to Prop. X.)
Let DH, a tangent to the hyperbola at D, meet a trans¬
verse diameter Yp produced in H, and let DEe? be an or¬
dinate to that diameter: CE : CP =: CP : CH.
Through P and p, the vertices of the diameter, draw
the tangents PK, pL, meeting DH in K and L ; draw PF,
pt to either of the foci, and draw KM and KN perpendi¬
cular to FD and FP, and also LO and LI perpendicular to
vD and Ip.
The triangles PKN, p\A are equiangular, for the angles
at and I are right angles, and the angles NPK, I»L
are equal (I Cor. 6); therefore
PK :pL = KN : LI (4, 6, E.) = KM : LO : (Cor. 7).
ut the triangles KDM, LDO being manifestly equi-
angular, KM : LO = KD : LD; '
therefore PK : />L = KD : LD.
But because of the parallel lines PK, ED, pL, the triangles Hyperbola.
±11 K, tipL are equiangular, and the lines HL, H» are
similarly divided in K, D, and in P, E (10, 6, E.); hence
PK : pL = HP : Up, and KD : LD = PE : »E :
therefore HP : H/? = PE : pE.
T ake Cu — CE, and then PE = pG, and, by composition,
HP : P/> = PE : EG;
and taking the halves of the consequents,
HP : PC = PE : EC,
and, by division, HC : PC = PC : EC.
Cor. 1. The rectangle PE • Ep is equal to the rect¬
angle HE • EC.
For PC2 = HC • CE (17,6, E.) = EC2 — HE • EC (3,2, E.),
also PC2 = EC2 — PE • Ep (5, 2, E.) ;
therefore HE • EC = PE • Ep.
Cor. 2. The rectangle PH • Hp is equal to the rect¬
angle HE • HC.
For HC2 = CP2 — PH • H» (6, 2, E.),
and HC2 =: EC • HC — EFI • HC (1, 2, E.) =
CP2 — EH • HC (by the Prop.) ;
therefore PH • Hp = EH • HC.
Prop. XII.
In Aa, the transverse axis of an hyperbola, let there be
taken on each side of the centre straight lines CK, Ck,
each a fourth proportional to CF the eccentricity, and
CA, CB, half the transverse and conjugate axes : if
then from P, a vertex of any diameter, there be drawn
PH perpendicular to Act; the square of the semidia¬
meter PC, will have to the rectangle contained bv the
segments KIT, MT the constant ratio of the square of
CF to the square of CA.
Draw PL perpendicular to the conjugate axis.
Because CB2 : CA2 = CB2 + CL2 : PL2,
by composition, CB2 + CA2 : CA2 = CB2 + CL2 4-
PL2 : PL2,
therefore (47, 1, E.and Def. 8) CP ; CA2 = CB2 + PC2 •
PL2 or CH2;
but, by hypothesis, CF2 : CA2 = CB2 : CK2,
therefore CB2 ; CK2 = CB2 + PC2 : CH2;
and hence (19, 5, E.) PC2 : CH2 — CK2 = CB2 : CK2
and (6, 2, E.) PC2 : KH • H£ = CF2 : CA2.
Cor. 1. Hence the squares of any semidiameters PC,
QC are to one another as the rectangles KH • H£, KI • Ik,
contained by the segments of the line Kk between its ex¬
tremities, and perpendiculars from the vertices of the dia¬
meters.
Cor. 2. The transverse axis is the least of all the dia¬
meters, and a diameter which is nearer to the transverse
axis is less than one more remote, and a semidiameter
may be found greater than any given line.
By hypothesis CF or AB : CA = CB : CK : Now AB is
greater than CB (19, 1, E.), therefore CA is greater than
CK, and the points K, k are between Aa, the vertices of
the transverse axis. Suppose now a semidiameter PC to
244
CONIC SECTIONS.
Hyperbola.turn about C, and that in every position PH is perpendi-
w-y'w' cular to KA produced both ways; the rectangle KH •
and the square of PC, to which the rectangle has a con¬
stant ratio, will manifestly be least when PC coincides
with AC, and both will increase as H recedes from C ;
and, as the rectangle may exceed any given space, the
semidiameter may become greater than any given line.
Cor. 3. Diameters which make equal angles with the
transverse axis on opposite sides of it are equal; and only
two equal diameters can be drawn, one on each side of the
transverse axis.
Definition.
Prop. XIII.
If a tangent to an hyperbola meet the conjugate axis, and
from the point of contact a perpendicular be drawn to
that axis, the semiaxis will be a mean proportional be¬
tween the segments of the axis intercepted between the
centre and the perpendicular, and between the centre
and the tangent.
XI. If through A, one of the vertices of the transverse
axis, a straight line HAA be drawn, equal and parallel to
BA the conjugate axis, and bisected at A by the trans¬
verse axis; the straight lines CHM, CAm drawn through
the centre, and the extremities of that parallel, are called
Asymptotes.
Cor. 1. The asymptotes of two opposite hyperbolas are
common to both. Through a, the other extremity of the
axis, draw H'aA', parallel to BA, and meeting the asymp¬
totes of the hyperbola DAD’ in IT and hf. Because tiC is
equal to AC, oH' is equal to AA, and ah' to AH.
Cor. 2. The asymptotes are diagonals of a rectangle
formed by drawing perpendiculars to the axes at their
vertices; for the lines AH, CB, aW\ being equal and pa¬
rallel, the points H, B, H' are in a straight line parallel to
Aa ; the same is true of the points A, A, A'.
Sr
Prop. XIV.
The asymptotes do not meet the hyperbola; and if from
gny point in the curve a straight line be drawn parallel to
the conjugate axis, and terminated by the asymptotes, the
rectangle contained by its segments from that point is
equal to the square of halt the axis.
Let DH, a tangent to the hyperbola at D, meet the con¬
jugate axis BA in H, and let DG be perpendicular to that
axis, then CG : CB=CB : CH.
Let DH meet the transverse axis in K; draw Db per¬
pendicular to that axis, draw DF, D/ to the foci, and de¬
scribe a circle about the triangle D/F; the conjugate
axis will evidently pass through the centre of the cncle;
and because the angle FD/ is bisected by the tangent
DK, the line DK will pass through one extremity of the
diameter; therefore the circle passes through H. _ Draw
DL to the other extremity of the diameter. Ihe triangles
LGD, KCH are similar, for each is similar to the right
angled triangle LDH, therefore
LG : GD (or CE) = CK : CH;
hence LG ■ CH = CE • CK = CA" (IE)
Now LC • CH =r CF- (35, 3, E.),
therefore LC * CH — LG * CH — CF- CA- ;
that is, CG • CH = CB2 (Def. 7),
wherefore CG:CB — CB:CH.
Through D, any point in the hyperbola, draw a straight
line parallel to the conjugate axis, meeting the transverse
axis in E, and the asymptotes in M and m ; the points M
and m shall be without the hyperbola, and the rectangle
MD * Dm equal to the square of BC.
Draw DG perpendicular to BA the conjugate axis ; let
a tangent to the curve at D meet the transverse axis in
K, and the conjugate axis in L, and let a perpendicular
the vertex A meet the asymptote in H. Because DK
a tangent, and DE an ordinate to the axis, CA is a mean
proportional between CK and CE (11); and there o
CK : CE=CA2 : CE2 (2 Cor. 20, 6, E-).
But CK : CEnrLC : LG,
and CA2 : CE2 :: AH2 : EM2,
therefore LC : LG :: AH2 : EM*.
Again, CB being a mean proportional between CL an
CG (13), ^ _ cg=cb2 . CG25
and therefore, by composition,
LC • LG = CB2 : CB2 + CG2, or CB2 +ED-;
^wherefore AH2 : EM2=rCB2 : CB2+ED2.
Now AH2 = CB2 (Def. 11),
tlierefore EM2 —CB2 -f- ED2,
consequently EM2 is greater than ED2, and EM greater
than ED, therefore M is without the hyperbola. 1
manner it appears that m is without t e ijper ’ ,
fore every point in both the asymptotes is without the J
CONIC SECTIONS.
245
erb I*
,,perb°la. Again, the straight line M»?, terminated by the
^' asymptotes, being manifestly bisected by the axis at E,
T] } ME2=MD • Dira + DE2;
but it has been shown that
ME2rrBC2 + DE2,
therefore MD • D?w=BC2.
Cor. 1. Hence, if in a straight line Mm, terminated by
the asymptotes, and parallel to the conjugate axis, there
be taken a point D such that the rectangle MD • Dm is
equal to the square of that axis, the point D is in the hy¬
perbola.
Cor. 2. If straight lines MDm, NRn, be drawn through
D and R, any points in the hyperbola, or opposite hyper¬
bolas, parallel to the conjugate axis, and meeting the
asymptotes in M, m, and N, n, the rectangles MD • Dm,
NR • Rw are equal.
Prop. XV.
The hyperbola and its asymptote, when produced, continu¬
ally approach to each other, and the distance between
them becomes less than any given line.
Take two points E and O in the transverse axis produ¬
ced, and through these points draw straight lines parallel
to the conjugate axis, meeting the hyperbola in D, R, and
the asymptotes in M, m and N, n.
Because NO2 ]> ME2
and NR • R?i = MD • Dm (2 Cor. 14),
therefore NO2—NR • Rn > ME2—MD • Dm;
that is, RO2 > DE2,
and RO > DE.
Now On > Em,
therefore Rn )> Dm;
and since Rw : Dm DM : RN (2 Cor. 14),
| DM > RN,
therefore the point R is nearer to the asymptote than D,
that is, the hyperbola when produced approaches to the
asymptote.
Let S be any line less than half the conjugate axis;
then, because Dm, a straight line drawn from a point in
the hyperbola, parallel to the conjugate axis, and termi¬
nated by the asymptote on the other side of the trans¬
verse axis, may evidently be of any magnitude greater
than AA, which is equal to half the conjugate axis, Dm
may be a third proportional to S and BC; and since Dm
is also a third proportional to DM (the segment between
D and the other asymptote) and BC, DM may be equal
to S; but the distance of D from the asymptote is less
than DM, therefore that distance may become less than
S, and consequently less than any given line.
Cor. Every straight line passing through the centre
within the angles contained by the asymptotes through
which the transverse axis passes, meets the hyperbola,
and therefore is a transverse diameter; and every straight Hyperbola,
line passing through the centre within the adjacent angles
falls entirely without the hyperbola.
Scholium. The name asymptotes (non concurrentes')
has been given to the lines CH, C/t, because of the pro¬
perty they have of continually approaching to the hyper¬
bola without meeting it, as has been proved in this pro¬
position.
Prop. XVI.
If from two points in an hyperbola, or opposite hyperbolas,
two parallel straight lines be drawn to meet the asymp¬
totes, the rectangles contained by their segments be¬
tween the points and the asymptotes are equal.
Let D and G be two points in the hyperbola, or oppo¬
site hyperbolas; let parallel lines EDe, HG// be drawn to
meet the asymptotes in E, e, and H, h; the rectangles
ED • De, HG • Gh are equal.
Through D and G draw straight lines parallel to the
conjugate axis, meeting the asymptotes in the points L, l,
and M, m. The triangles HGM, EDL are similar, as also
the triangles hGm, eDl,
therefore DL : DE = GM : GH,
and D/: De = Gm : Gh ;
hence, taking the rectangles of the corresponding terms of
the proportions,
ED • Ol: ED • De = MG • Gm : HG • Gh;
but ED • D/= MG • Gm (2 Cor. 14),
therefore ED • De = HG • G/l
Cor. 1. If a straight line be drawn through D, d, two
points in the same or opposite hyperbolas, the segments
DE, de between those points and the asymptotes are equal.
For in the same manner that the rectangles ED * De,
Gh • HG have been proved to be equal, it may be shown
that the rectangles Rd • de, HG • Gh are equal, therefore
ED • De — Rd • de. Let Ee be bisected in O, then ED ■
De = EO2—OD2, and Rd- de= EO2—Od2, therefore
EG2 — OD2 = EG2 — Od2 ; hence OD = Od, and ED
= vxv
246
CONIC SECTIONS.
Hyperbola. Cok. 2. When the points D and d are in the same hy-
perbola, by supposing them to approach till they coincide
at P, the line Ee will thus become a tangent to the curve
at P. Therefore any tangent KP£, which is terminated
by the asymptotes, is bisected at P, the point of contact.
^ Cor. 3. And if any straight line KP/e, limited by the
asymptotes, be bisected at P, a point in the curve, that line
is a tangent at P. For it is evident that only one line can
be drawn through P, which shall be limited by the asymp¬
totes, and bisected at P.
Cor. 4. If a straight line be drawn through D, any
point in the hyperbola, parallel to a tangent KPA, and
terminated by the asymptotes at E and e, the rectangle
ED • De is equal to the square of PK, the segment of the
tangent between the point ot contact and either asymp¬
tote. The demonstration is the same as in the propo¬
sition.
Cor. 5. If from any point D in a hyperbola a straight
line be drawn parallel to Fp, any diameter, meeting the
asymptotes in E and e, the rectangle ED • De is equal to
the square of half the diameter. The demonstration is
the same as in the proposition.
Prop. XVII.
If two straight lines be drawn from any point in an hyper¬
bola to the asymptotes, and from any other point in the
same or opposite hyperbolas two other lines be drawn
parallel to the former; the rectangle contained by the
first two lines will be equal to the rectangle contained
by the other two lines.
Definitions.
XII. If Aa be the transverse axis and the conjugate
axis of two opposite hyperbolas DAD, dad, and if be
the transverse axis and Aa the conjugate axis of other
two opposite hyperbolas EBE, ebe, these hyperbolas are
said to be conjugate to the former. When all the four hy¬
perbolas are mentioned they are called conjugate hyperbolas.
Cor. The asymptotes of the hyperbolas DAD, rfod are
also the asymptotes of the hyperbolas EBE, ebe. This is
evident from Cor. 2 to Definition 11.
XIII. Any diameter of the conjugate hyperbolas is call¬
ed a second diameter of the other hyperbolas.
Cor. Every straight line passing through the centre,
within the angle through which the conjugate or second
axis passes, is a second diameter of the hyperbola.
XIV. Any straight line not passing through the centre,
but terminated both ways by the opposite hyperbolas, and
bisected by a second diameter, is called an ordinate to that
diameter.
Prop. XVIII.
Any straight line not passing through the centre, but ter¬
minated by the opposite hyperbolas, and parallel to a
tangent to either of the conjugate hyperbolas, is bisect¬
ed by the second diameter that passes through the point
of contact, or is an ordinate to that diameter.
From D, any point in the hyperbola, draw DH and DK
to the asymptotes, and from any other point d draw dh and
dk parallel to DH and DK. The rectangles HD • DK,
hd • dk are equal.
Join D, d, cutting the asymptotes in E, e. From si¬
milar triangles
ED : DH = Etf : dh,
and eD : DK = ed : dh ;
therefore, taking the rectangles of corresponding terms,
ED • De : HD * DK = Fd- de: hd • dk;
but ED • De = Ee? • de (16),
therefore HD • DK = hd • dh.
Cor. 1. If the lines D'K', DTP, d'h!, d'h', be parallel to
the asymptotes, and thus form the parallelograms D'K'CH',
d'h! C/f, these are equal to one another (16, and 14, 6, E.).
And if D'C, d'C be joined, the halves of the parallelograms,
or the triangles D'K'C, d'k'C are also equal.
Cor. 2. If from D', d', any two points in an hyperbola,
straight lines D'K', d'h! be drawn parallel to one asymp¬
tote, meeting the other in K'and h!, these lines are to each
other reciprocally as their distances from the centre, or
D'K': d'h’:: C# : CK'. This appears from last corollary,
and 14, 6, E.
The straight line T)d terminated by the opposite hyper¬
bolas, and parallel to the tangent KQ/e, is bisected at E
by Q.q, the diameter that passes through the point of con¬
tact.
Let Dc? meet the asymptotes in G and g, and let the
tangent meet them in K and h. The straight lines Gy,
KA are evidently similarly divided at E and Q, and since
KQ = Q£ (2 Cor. 16), therefore GE = Fg ; nowDG =
gd (\ Cor. 16), therefore DE = Ee?.
Cor. 1. Every ordinate to a second diameter is parallel
to a tangent at its vertex. The demonstration is the same
as in Cor. 2, Prop. 10.
Cor. 2. All the ordinates to the same second diameter
are parallel to each other.
Cor. 3. A straight line that bisects two parallel straight
lines which terminate in the opposite hyperbolas is a se-
cond diameter.
CONIC SECTIONS.
247
Cor. 4. The ordinates to the conjugate or second axis
fare perpendicular to it, and no other second diameter is
perpendicular to its ordinates.
Cor. 5. The opposite hyperbolas are similar to one an¬
other, and like portions of them are in all respects equal.
Prop. XIX.
If a transverse diameter of an hyperbola be parallel to the
ordinates to a second diameter; the latter shall be pa¬
rallel to the ordinates to the former.
Let Pp, a transverse diameter of an hyperbola, be paral¬
lel to DGcf, any ordinate to the second diameter the
second diameter Qq shall be parallel to the ordinates to
the diameter Vp.
Draw the diameter d'Cd through one extremity of the
ordinate dT), and join </andD, the other extremity, meet¬
ing Vp in E. Because dd' is bisected at C, and CE is pa¬
rallel to d!D, the line T)d is bisected at E, therefore T)d
is an ordinate to the diameter Yp. And because ~Dd' and
dd! are bisected at G and C, the diameter Qq is parallel
to Dd (2, 6, E.) ; therefore Qq is parallel to any ordinate
to the diameter Pp.
Definitions.
XV. Two diameters are said to be conjugate to one an¬
other when each is parallel to the ordinates to the other
diameter.
Cor. Diameters which are conjugate to one another are
parallel to tangents at the vertices of each other.
XVI. A third proportional to any diameter and its con¬
jugate is called the Parameter, also the Latus rectum of
that diameter.
Prop. XX.
The tangent at tjie vertex of any transverse diameter of
an hyperbola, which is terminated by the asymptotes,
is equal to the diameter that is conjugate to that dia¬
meter.
Through D, any point in the hyperbola, draw a straight Hyperbola,
line parallel to the tangent and diameter, cutting either
of the conjugate hyperbolas in d, and the asymptotes in
I and i, and through D and d draw lines parallel to B&,
the conjugate axis, meeting the asymptotes in the points
K, k, and L, l. Ihe triangles DIK, dYL, are similar, as
also iDk, idl, therefore
KD : DI : : Lc?: dl,
and Z:D : Di : : Id ; di;
therefore, taking the rectangles of the corresponding
terms,
KD • D/i : ID • D& :: Dd • dl: \d • di.
But KD • D£ = BC2 (14), and BC2 = Ld • dl (5 Cor. 16),
therefore ID • D* = Id • di.
Now ID • D* — HP2 (4 Cor. 16),
and Id - rfi2 = QC2 (5 Cor. 16);
therefore HP = QC2, and HP—QC,
and consequently Hh = Qq.
Cor. 1. If another tangent be drawn to the curve at p,
meeting the asymptotes in H' and A', the straight lines
which join the points H, H;, also A, A', are tangents to the
conjugate hyperbolas at Q and q. For pH', as well as
PH, is equal and parallel to CQ; therefore the points
H, Q, H', are in a straight line parallel to Pp, and HQ
r=H'Q (33, 1, E.), therefore HQH is a tangent to the
curve at Q. In like manner it appears that hqld is a tan¬
gent at q.
Cor. 2. If tangents be drawn at the vertices of two
conjugate diameters, they will meet in the asymptotes,
and form a parallelogram, of which the asymptotes are
diagonals.
Prop. XXL
If a tangent to an hyperbola meet a second diameter, and
from the point of contact an ordinate be drawn to that
diameter; half the second diameter wall be a mean pro¬
portional between the segments of the diameter inter¬
cepted between the centre and the ordinate and be¬
tween the centre and the tangent.
Let DL, a tangent to the curve at D, meet the second
diameter Q^ in L, and let DGd' be an ordinate to that
diameter; then
CG : CQ = CQ : CL.
Let Pp be the diameter that is conjugate to Qq, let
HPA be a tangent at the vertex, terminated by the asymp¬
totes ; through D draw the ordinate DEg? to the diameter
Pp, meeting the asymptotes in M and m; let K be the
intersection of DL and Pp. Because DK is a tangent at
D, and DEd an ordinate to Pp, CP is a mean proportional
between CE and CK (11), and therefore
CE2 : CP2 : : CE ; CK.
Now, the lines CQ, PH, EM, being parallel (10, and
Def. 15), from similar triangles,
T
248
Hyperbola.
CONIC SECTIONS.
CE2: CP2 = EM2: PH2,
and CE or DG : CK ~ LG : LC;
therefore EM2 : PH2= LG : LC,
and, by division, &c.
EM2—PH2: PH2—CG : LC=CG2: CG * LC.
But since PH2—MD • D/w (4i Cor. 16),
EM2—PH2=ED2=:CG2;
therefore PH2z=CG * LC ;
hence, and since PH=:CQ (20),
CG : CQ=CCi : CL.
Prop. XXII.
If an ordinate be drawn to any transverse diameter of an
hyperbola ; the rectangle under the abscisses ot the dia¬
meter will be to the square of the semi-ordmate as the
p try crmnrp of its COniuSCate.
Prop. XXIII. ^
The transverse axis of an hyperbola is the least of all its
transverse diameters, and the conjugate axis is thB
least of all its second diameters.
Let DErZ be an ordinate to the transverse diameter
P® and let Qo be its conjugate diameter ;
F PE • Ep : DE2 = Pp2 : Qq2-
Let DKL, a tangent at D, meet the diameter in K,
and its conjugate in L. Draw DG parallel to Pp,
in<r Qq in G. Because CP is a mean proportional be¬
tween CE and CK (11),
CP2 : CE2 = CK : CE,
and, by division, CP2 : PE • E/j = CK : KE.
But, because ED is parallel to CL,
CK : KE = CL : DE, or CG ;
and because CQ is a mean proportional between CG and
CL (21), CL ; CG _ CQ2 . CG2) or DE2,
therefore CP2 : PE • Ep * CQ2 : DE2,
and, bv inversion and alternation,
PE * Ep : DE2 — CP2 : CQ2 = Pp2 : Q<22-
Cor. 1. If an ordinate be drawn to any second diame¬
ter of an hyperbola, the sum of the squares of half the
second diameter and its segment, intercepted by the or(|i_
nate from the centre, is to the square of the semi-ordi-
nate as the square of the second diameter to the square
of its conjugate.
Let DG be a semi-ordinate to the second diameter
0(7. It has been shown that
• CG2 : CO2 = PE • Ep : CP2 ;
therefore, by composition,
CQ2 + CG2 : CQ2 = CE2 or DG2 : CP2,
and by alternation,
CQ2 + CG2 : CE‘2 = CQ2 : CP2 = Qq2 : Pp2.
Cor. 2. The squares of semi-ordinates, and of ordi¬
nates to any transverse diameter, are to one another as
the rectangles contained by the corresponding abscisses;
and the squares of semi-ordinates, and of ordinates to
any second diameter, are to one another as the sums of
the squares of half that diameter, and the segments inter¬
cepted by the ordinate from the centre. .
Cor. 3. The ordinates to any transverse diameter, which
intercept equal segments of that diameter from the centre,
are equal to one another, and, conversely, equal ordinates
intercept equal segments of the diameter from the centre.
Let Ur be the transverse axis, Pp any other transverse
diameter; draw PE perpendicular to Hr; then CE being
greater than CR, and CP greater than CE, much more is
CP greater than CR, therefore Pp is greater than Rr.
In like manner it is shown, that if Ssbe the conjugate axis,
and Qq any other second diameter, Qq is greater than Ss.
Prop. XXIV.
If an ordinate be drawn to any transverse diameter of an
hyperbola, the rectangle under the abscisses of the dia¬
meter is to the square of the semi-ordinate as the dia¬
meter to its parameter.
Let DE be a semi-ordinate to the transverse diameter
P® • let PG be the parameter of the diameter, and Qq e
conjugate diameter. By the definition of the parameter
(D&e Vp : E’>-
But Pp2 : Qf = PE * Ep : DE (22);
therefore PE • Ep : DE2 = Pp : PG.
Cor. Let the parameter PG be perptendicular to the da
meter P® • join »G, and from E draw EM parallel to P6,
meeting^G in M. The square of DE the sem.-ordm.!.,
is equal to the rectangle contained by PE and EM.
4 For PE • Ep : DE2 = Pp : PG,
and ¥p : PG = Ep : EM^ PE ^Ep: PE • EM,
therefore DE' — IE EM.
Scholium.
If the rectangles PGLp, HGKM be completed it J
appear that the square of ED ls.e1u”'‘''eKP,
MP, which rectangle is greater than the ret
contained by the absciss PE, and the parameter Gl^ by^
rectangle KH similar and similatly si ua . . jt
rectangle contained by the parameter an
• was on account of the excess of the ordinate above the
^ rectangle contained by the absciss and parameter that
Apollonius gave the curve to which the property belonged
the name of Hyperbola.
Prop. XXV.
CONIC SECTIONS.
CE2—CG2 = CR2,
and CM2 — CL2, or GQ2 _ PE* = CS* •
therefore CE2 + PE2—(CG2 + GQ2)=CR2—CS2 •
that is (47, 1, E.), CP2—CQ2=CR2—CS2 ’
therefore Vjr—Q^2=Rr2 
249
Hyperbola.
If from the vertices of two conjugate diameters of an hy¬
perbola there be drawn ordinates to any third transverse
diameter; the square of the segment of that diameter,
intercepted between the ordinate from the vertex of the
second diameter and the centre, is equal to the rectan¬
gle contained by the segments between the other ordi¬
nate and the vertices of the third transverse diameter.
And the square of the segment intercepted between
the ordinate from the vertex of the transverse diameter
and the centre is equal to the square of the segment
between the other ordinate and the centre, together
with the square of half the third transverse diameter.
Let Pp, Qq be two conjugate diameters, of which Pp is
a transverse and Q.q a second diameter; let PE, QG be
semi-ordinates to any third transverse diameter Rp ; then
CG2 = RE • Er, and CE2 = CG2 + CR2.
Draw the tangents PH, QK, meeting Rr in H and K.
The rectangles HC • CE and KC • CG are equal, for each
is equal to CR2 (II), therefore
HC : CK zr CG : CE.
But the triangles HPC, CQK are evidently similar (Cor.
Def. 15); and since PE, QG are parallel, their bases CH,
KC are similarly divided at E and G, therefore
HC : CK = HE : CG,
wherefore CG : CE = HE : CG,
consequently CG2 = CE • EH = (1 Cor. II), RE • Er.
Again, from the similar triangles HPC, CQK,
HC : CK = CE : KG.
Now, it was shown that HC : CK =: CG : CE,
; therefore CG i CE = CE : KG,
consequently
CE2 = CG • GK = (3, 2, E.), CG2 + GC • CK;
but GC • CK = CR2 (21),
therefore CE2 = CG2 + CR2.
Cor. 1. Let Ss be the diameter that is conjugate to
Rr, then Rr is to Ss as CG to PE, or as CE to QG.
For Rr2 : Ss2 =r RE • Er, or CG2 : PE2,
therefore Rr : Ss = CG : PE.
In like manner Rr : Ss = CE : QG.
Cor. 2. The difference between the squares of CE, CG,
t ie segments of the transverse diameter to which the
Spn^'I?rt^nates QG are drawn, is equal to the square
o CR the semi-diameter. For it has been shown that
CE2 = CG2 + CR2,
therefore CE2 — CG2 = CR2.
I. ^0R* 3. The difference of the squares of any two con-
jugate diameters is equal to the difference of the squares
o t e axes. Let Rr, Ss be the axes, and Pp, Qq any
C0RjR?ate diameters ; draw PE, QG perpendicular to
r’ an^ PL, QM perpendicular to S$. Then
VOL. VII.
Prop. XXVI.
If four straight lines be drawn touching conjugate hyper¬
bolas at the vertices of any two conjugate diameters;
the parallelogram formed by these lines is equal to the
rectangle contained by the transverse and conjugate
clX6S.
Let Pp, Qq be any two conjugate diameters, a paral¬
lelogram DEGH formed by tangents to the conjugate hy¬
perbolas at their vertices is equal to the rectangle con¬
tained by Aa, P>b, the two axes.
Let Aa, one of the axes, meet the tangent PE in K
join QK, and draw PL, QM perpendicular to Aa.
Because CK : CA = CA : CL (11),
and CA : CB = CL : QM (1 Cor. 25),
ex. aeq. CK : CB = CA : QM,
therefore CK • QM = CB • CA.
But CK • QM = twice trian. CKQ = paral. CPEQ,
therefore the parallelogram CPEQ =CB • CA ;
and, taking the quadruples of these, the parallelogram
DEGH is equal to the rectangle contained by Aa and B&.
Prop. XXVII.
If two tangents at the vertex of any transverse diameter
of an hyperbola meet a third tangent; the rectangle
contained by their segments between the points of
contact and the points of intersection is equal to the
square of the semidiameter to which they are parallel.
And the rectangle contained by the segments of the
third tangent between its points of contact and the pa¬
rallel tangents, is equal to the square of the semidia¬
meter to which it is parallel.
Let PH, tangents at the vertices of a transverse dia¬
meter Pp, meet DHA, a tangent to the curve at any point
D, in H and h; let CQ be the semidiameter to which
2 i
250
CONIC SECTIONS.
Hyperbola, the tangents PH, ph are parallel, and CR that to which sequen.ly ta™ED = “^LlghUine"'
■Jpetl;
E/~ FP P/= Aa. Now tire straight lines FE> F/Cy,!
being bisected at D and C, the line DC is parallel to Ef,
and thus the triangles FfE, PCD, are similar,
therefore Ef :jE,ov Act — FC : CD;
but FC is half F/, therefore CD is half of Aa.
Cor. If a straight line Qq be drawn through the centre
parallel to the tangent Dd, it will cut oft trom PF, lythe
segments PG, P'7, each equal to AC half the transverse
axis. For CdPG, CDPq are parallelograms, therefore
PG = dC = AC, and Py = DC = AC.
Prop. XXIX.
HA is parallel; then
PH • p/i — CQ2 and DH * DA “ CIP,
Let HA meet the semidiameters CP, CQ in L and K.
Draw DE, RM parallel to CQ, and DG parallel to CP.
Because LP • Lp = LE • LC (2 Cor. 11),
LP : LE =3 LC : Lp ;
hence, and because of the parallels PH, ED, CK, p/i,
PH : ED = CK : ph,
wherefore PH * ph — ED • CK.
But ED • CK = CG * CK = CQ2 (21),
therefore PH • ph — CQ'. >
Agam, the trianglesLED.CMR are evidently simi aisan , le cont!lined by perpendiculars drawn from
I.E,LDare'-yd-‘deda H a^id P, alsy /.andP, he ,e^. ^ rbo,/t 1 3 tengent is eqUa, t0fc
1o1e':/D = (LE : LD =) CM = CIV; square of half the conjugate ax„
hence, taking the termS’ Let PdD be Ttangent, and FD, fd perpendiculars from
But if CD be'jofned', the points D andR at-e evidently the 'Se'1Ua'“'
the vertices of wo conjugate diame ers ( . • ), jt evident from iast proposition that the points _D, 4
and therefore 1 L • !>'■ - V - * ' h in lhe circuraference of a circle, whose centre is the
P T,.e vectenrie c™aine“ by LD and DK, the centre of the hyperbola, and radius C A half the transverse
C \ „f „ r ,le„t intercented between D the point of axis; now FDd being a right angle, if dC be joined and
segments or a tangent intercepteu uct e t w;ii meet DF in H, a point in the circura-
contact, and PP, Q?, any two conjugate diaaoeters, is equal ^ Fc _ « and tpj _ cd< and the
to the square of CR, the semidiame er ° w - antTleg ^CH fCd are equai, pH is equal to fd, therefore
^Lerrparlile! tangents PH. pi meetLK in H and /., DP • #=*• FH = AF ;nFJ36, 3, E.) = CB< (3).
and draw DE, a semi-ordinate to Pp. Because of the
parallels ED, PFI, CK, ^iA,
%
LE
and EC
LD = EP : DH,
DK = Ep : DA,
therefore
LE • EC : LD • DK = EP • E/i: DFI • DA.
But LE • EC = EP • Ep (1 Cor. 11),
therefore LD • DK = DH • DA = (by this Prop.) CR .
Prop. XXVIII.
Cor. If PF, Pf, be drawn from the point of contact to
the foci; the square of FD is a fourth proportional to/P,
FP, and CB2. For the angles/Pr/, FPD are equal (4),
and FDP,/dP are right angles, therefore the triangles
FDP, fdP are similar, and
fP : FP = /t? : FD = /d * FD or BC2 : FD2.
If two straight lines be drawn from the foci of an hyper¬
bola perpendicular to a tangent; straight lines drawn
from the centre, to the points in which they meet the
tangent, will each be equal to half the transverse axis.
Prop. XXX.
If from C the centre of an hyperbola a straight line CL
be drawn perpendicular to a tangent LD, and from D
the point of contact a perpendicular be drawn to the
tangent, meeting the transverse axis in H and the con-
iugate axis in h ; the rectangle contained by CL and
DH is equal to the square of CB, the semiconjugate
axis • and the rectangle contained by CL and DA is
equal to the square of CA, the semitransverse axis.
- ^1 , h
r a*- P/TD be a tangent to the curve at P, and FD, fd
AP hnlf the transverse axis. . t .
Jo n FP FP, and produce FD, P/tM they mterscct m
F The triangles FDP, EDP have the angles at D right
DP common toboth; theV are thetkore equal, and con-
Let the axes meet the “rh'Ahidl'tm bfptp”
D draw the semi-ordmates DE, De, which P
l,iTt Singles DEH, CL*, are evidently equiang*
therefore DH : DE — Cm . C ,
hence CL • DH = DE • Cm;
but DE • Cm or Ce * Cm = BC (12),
therefore CL * DH — BC . . __
In the same way it may be shown that C '
Cor. 1. If a perpendicular be drawn to a angen^a ^
point of contact; the segments mtercepted b
point of contact and the axes are to each other rec p
CONIC SECTIONS.
251
ifctii'Cally as ^ie squares of the axes by which they are ter-
>' minated.
For AC2: BC2 = CL • : CL • DH — D/i: DH.
Coh. 2. If DF be drawn to either focus, and UK be
drawn perpendicular to DF; the straight line DK shall
be equal to half the parameter of the transverse axis.
Draw CG parallel to the tangent at D, meeting DH in
N andDF in G. The triangles GDN, HDK, are similar,
therefore GD : DN r= HD : DK ;
and hence GD • DK r= HD • DN.
But GD = AC (Cor. 28) and ND = CL,
therefore AC • DK = HD : CL = (by the Prop.) CB2,
wherefore AC : BC = BC : DK;
hence DK is half the parameter of Aa (Def. 16).
Definition.
(See Figure to next Prop.)
XVII. If a point G be taken in the transverse axis of
an hyperbola, so that the distance of G from the centre
may be a third proportional to CF, the distance of either
focus from the centre, and CA the semitransverse axis;
a straight line HG/i drawn through G, perpendicular to
the axis, is called the directrix of the hyperbola.
Con. 1. If an ordinate to the axis be drawn through
the focus; tangents to the hyperbola at the extremities of
the ordinate will meet the axis at the point G (11).
Con. 2. The hyperbola has two directrices, for the point
G may be taken on either side of the centre.
Prop. XXXI.
The distance of any point in an hyperbola from either di¬
rectrix is to its distance from the focus nearest that di¬
rectrix, in the constant ratio of the semitransverse axis
to the distance of the focus from the centre.
extremity of the ordinate passing through the focus, and Hyperbola.
ED be produced to meet GM in N; EN shall be equal to
LF. For draw MO perpendicular to the directrix, then,
because M and D are points in the hyperbola, and from
similar triangles,
FM : FD = MO : DK = GF : GE — MF : EN,
therefore FD — EN.
Cor. 2. If AI and ai be drawn perpendicular to the
transverse axis at its extremities, meeting the tangent
GM in I and i, then AI = AF and ai = aF.
Prop. XXXII.
If through P and Q the vertices of two semidiameters
of an hyperbola there be drawn straight lines PD, QE
parallel to one of the asymptotes CN, meeting the other
asymptote in D and E; the hyperbolic sector PCQ is
equal to the hyperbolic trapezium PDEQ.
Let D be any point in the hyperbola ; let DK be drawn
perpendicular to the directrix, and DF to the focus near¬
est the directrix ; DK is to DF as C A, half the transverse
axis, to CF, the distance of the focus from the centre.
Draw D/ to the other focus, and DE perpendicular to
Aa; take L a point in the axis so that AL = FD, and
consequently La — Y)f; then CL is evidently half the
sum ot AL and aL, or of FT) andjfD, and CE half the
sum of FE and /’E ; and because
B/— DF ; Yf = fE + FE : D/ + DF (K, 6, E.),
by taking the halves of the terms of the proportion,
CA : CF rr CE : CL.
But CA : CF = CG : CA (Def. 17),
therefore CG : CA = CE : CL;
hence (19, 5, E.) EG : AL — CG : CA =: CA : CF,
that is, DK : DF = CA : CF.
Cor. 1. If the tangent GMN be draw n through M, the
Let CQ meet PD in I. The triangles CDP, CEQ are
equal (1 Cor. 17); therefore, taking the triangle GDI
from both, the triangle CIP is equal to the quadrilateral
DEQI. To these add the figure PIQ, and the hyperbo¬
lic sector PCQ is equal to the hyperbolic trapezium PDEQ.
Prop. XXXIII.
If from the centre of an hyperbola the segments CD,
CE, CH be taken in continued proportion in one of the
asymptotes, and the straight lines DP, EQ, HR be
drawn parallel to the other asymptote, meeting the
hyperbola in P, Q, R; the hyperbolic areas PDEQ,
QEHR are equal.
(See Figure to preceding Prop.)
Through Q draw a tangent to the curve, meeting the
asymptotes in K and L : join PR, meeting the asymptotes
in M and N; draw the semidiameters CP, CQ, CR; let
CQ meet PR in G.
Because QE is parallel to CM, and KQ is equal to QL
(2 Cor. 16), CE is equal to EL; and because MC, PD,
RH, are parallel, and MP is equal to RN (1 Cor. 16),
CD is equal to HN. Now, by hypothesis,
CD : CE = CE : CH,
LE = CE : CH;
: CH = HR : EQ (2 Cor. 17),
: LE = HR : EQ,
   HR = LE : EQ.
Now the angles at H and E are equal, therefore the
triangles NHR, LEQ are equiangular, and NR is parallel
to LQ; consequently RP is an ordinate to the diameter
CQ (10), and is bisected by it at G; and as CQ bisects
all lines which are parallel to KL, and are terminated by
the hyperbola, it will bisect the area PQR. Let the equal
areas PQG, RQGbe taken from the equal triangles PCG,
RCG, and there wall remain the hyperbolic sectors I v,Q,
RCQ equal to each other. Therefore (32) the areas
DPQE, F1QRH are also equal.
Cor. Hence if CD, CE, CH, &c. any number of seg¬
ments of the asymptote, be taken in continued proportion,
the areas DPQE, DPQRH, &c. reckoned from the first
line DP, will be in arithmetical progression.
therefore NH ;
but CE
therefore NH
and, by alternation, NFI
252
CONIC SECTIONS.
Cone.
Prop. XXXIV. Problem.
Two straight lines Aa, B£>, which bisect each other at
right angles in C, being given by position ; to describe
an hyperbola, of which Aa shall be the transverse and
B6 the conjugate axes.
Join AB, and in Aa produced take CF, C/ each equal
to AB ; the points F,/will be the foci of the hyperbola.
Let one end of a string be fastened at F, and the other
to G the extremity of a ruler/DG, and let the difference
between the length of the ruler and the string be equal to
Aa. Let the other end of the ruler be fixed to the point
/ and let the ruler be made to revolve about/as a centre
‘in the plane in which the axes are situated, while the string
is stretched by means of a pin D, so that the part of it be¬
tween G and D is applied close to the edge of the ruler;
the point of the pin will by its motion trace a curve line
DAD upon the plane, which is one of the hyperbolas re¬
quired.
If the ruler be made to revolve about the other focus
F, while the end of the string is fastened to /, the oppo¬
site hyperbola will be described by the moving point D ;
for in either case G/—(GD + DF), that is, D/—DF is
by hypothesis equal to Aa the transverse axis.
Prop. XXXV. Problem.
An hyperbola being given by position; to find its axes.
Let FI A A be the given hyperbola. Draw two parallel
straight lines HA, KA, terminating in either of thp oppo¬
site hyperbolas, and bisect them at L and M; join LM,
and produce it to meet the hyperbola in P; then LP will
be a transverse diameter (4< Cor. 10). Let p be the point
in which it meets the opposite hyperbola, bisect Pp in C,
the point C is the centre (2). Take D any point in the
hyperbola, and on C as a centre with the distance CD de¬
scribe a circle ; if this circle lie wholly without the oppo¬
site hyperbolas, then CD must be half the transverse axis
(23); but if not, let the circle meet the hyperbola again
in d ; join T)d, and bisect it in E ; join CE, meeting the op¬
posite hyperbolas in A and a, then Aa will be the trans¬
verse axis (5 Cor. 10); for it is perpendicular toDdl (3,3,
E.), which is an ordinate to Aa. The other axis will be
found by drawing BA a straight line through the centre
perpendicular to Aa, and taking CB so that CB~ maybe
a fourth proportional to the rectangle AE • Ea, and the
squares of DE and CA; thus CB is half the conjugate
axis (22).
P
PART IV.
Sect. I.—Of the Cone and its Sections.
Definitions.
L If through the point V, without the plane of the circle
ADB, a straight line AVE be drawn, and produced inde¬
finitely both ways, and if the point V remain fixed while
the straight line AVE is moved round the whole circum¬
ference of the circle; two superficies will be generated by
its motion, each of which is called a Conicat Superficies,
and these mentioned together are called Opposite Conical
Superficies. .
II. The solid contained by the conical superficies, and
the circle ADB, are called a Cone.
III. The fixed point V is called the Vertex of the cone.
IV. The circle ADB is called the Base of the com.
V. Any straight line drawn from the vertex to the cir¬
cumference of the base is called a Side of the cone.
VI. A straight line VC drawn through the vertex of the
cone, and the centre of the base, is called the Axis of the
COTIG*
VII. If the axis of the cone be perpendicular to the base,
it is called a Right cone.
VIII. If the axis of the cone be not perpendicular to
the base, it is called a Scalene cone.
Prop. I.
If a cone be cut by a plane passing through the vertex,
the section will be a triangle.
Let ADBV be a cone of which VC is the axis ; let AD
be the common section of the base of the cone and the
cutting plane ; join VA, VD. When the generating line
comes to the points A and D, it is evident that it will coin¬
cide with the straight lines VA, VD; they are therefore
in the surface of the cone, and they are in the plane which
passes through the points V, A, D, therefore the triangle
VAD is the common section of the cone and the plane
which passes through its vertex.
Prop. II.
If a cone be cut by a parallel to its base; the section will
be a circle, the centre of which is in the axis.
CONIC SECTIONS.
253
Let EFGbe the section made by a plane parallel to the
base of the cone, and VAB, VCD two sections of the cone
made by any two planes passing through the axis VC; let
EG, HE be the common sections of the plane EFG, and
the triangles VAB, VCD. Because the planes EFG, ADB
are parallel, HE, HF will be parallel to CA, CD, and
AC : EH = (VC : VH =) CD : HF;
but AC = CD, therefore EH — HF. For the same rea¬
son GH = HF, therefore EFG is a circle of which H is
the centre and EG the diameter.
Prop. III.
If a scalene cone ADBV be cut through the axis by a
plane perpendicular to the base, making the triangle
VAB, and from any point H in the straight line AV a
straight line HK be drawn in the plane of the triangle
VAB, so that the angle VHK may be equal to the angle
VBA, and the cone be cut by another plane passing
through HK perpendicular to the plane of the triangle
ABC, the common section HFKN of this plane and the
cone will be a circle.
Take any point L in the straight line HK, and through
L draw EG parallel to AB, and let EFGN be a section
parallel to the base, passing through EG; then the two
planes HFKN, EFGN being perpendicular to the plane
VAB, their common section FLN is perpendicular to ELG,
and since EFGN is a circle (by last Prop.), and EG its dia¬
meter, the square of FL is equal to the rectangle contain¬
ed by EL and LG (35, 3, E.); but since the angle VHK
is equal to VBA or VGE, the angles EHK, EGK are
equal, therefore the points E, H, G, K, are in the circum¬
ference of a circle (21, 3, E.), and HL • LK = EL • LG
(35, 3, E.) — FL2, therefore the section HFKN is a circle
ot which HLK is a diameter (35, 3, E.)
I his section is called a Subcontrary Section.
Prop. IV.
If a cone be cut by a plane which does not pass through
the vertex, and which is neither parallel to the base nor
to the plane of a subcontrary section; the common sec¬
tion of the plane and the surface of the cone will be an
ellipse, a parabola, or an hyperbola, according as the
plane passing through the vertex parallel to the cutting
plane falls without the cone, touches it, or falls within it.
Let ADBV be any cone, and let ONP be the common
section of a plane passing through its vertex and the plane
of the base, which will fall without the base, will touch it,
or will fall within it.
Let FKM be a section of the cone parallel to VPO;
through C the centre of the base draw CN perpendicular
to OP, meeting the circumference of the base in A and
B ; let a plane pass through V, A, and B, meeting the plane
OVP in the line NV, the surface of the cone in VA, VB,
and the plane of the section FKM in LK ; then, because
the planes OVP, MKF are parallel, KL will be parallel to
VN, and will meet VB one side of the cone in K; it fvill
meet VA the other side in H, fig. 1, within the cone;
it will be parallel to VA in fig. 2, and it will meet VA,
produced beyond the vertex, in H, fig. 3.
Let EFGM be a section ot the cone parallel to the base,
meeting the plane VAB in EG, and the plane FKM in
FM, and let L be the intersection of EG and FM; then
EG will be parallel to BN, and FM will be parallel to PO,
and therefore will make the same angle with LK, where-
ever the lines FM, LK cut each other; and since BN is
perpendicular to PO, EG is perpendicular to FM. Now the
section EFGM is a circle of which EG is the diameter
(2), therefore FM is bisected at L, and FL2 =e EL • LG.
Case 1. Let the line PNO be without the base of the
cone. Through K and H draw KR and HQ parallel to
AB. The triangles KLG, KHQ are similar, as also HLE,
HKR; therefore KL : LG = KH : HQ,
and HL : LE = KH : KR ;
therefore KL • HL : LG • LE or LF :: KH2 : HQ • KR.
Now the ratio of KH2 to HQ • KR is the same wherever
the sections HFKM, EFGM intersect each other; there¬
fore KL • HL has a constant ratio to LF2, consequently
(I Cor. 13, Part II.) the section HFKM is an ellipse, of
which HK is a diameter and MF an ordinate.
Cone.
254
Curvaturo.
CONIC SECTIONS.
Case 2. Next, suppose the line ONP to touch the cir- when the circle and conic section have a common tangentC*,,
nf fEc Viasn in A. Let, DIS be the common at that point. wy; ^
cumference of the base in A. Let DIS be the common
section of the base and the plane FKM; the line DIS is
evidently parallel to FLM, and perpendicular to AB,
therefore DF — AI * IB,
hence DI2 : FL2 — AI * IB : FL * LG.
But since EG is parallel to AB, and IK parallel to AV,
AI is equal to EL, and
^ IB : LG = KI : KL ;
therefore DI2: FL2 = KI : KL.
Hence it appears (Cor. 9, Part I.), that the section
DFKMS is a parabola, of which KLI is a diameter, and
DIS, FLM ordinates to that diameter.
at that point. _ , ^
II. If a circle touch a conic section in any point, so that
no other circle touching it in the same point can pass be¬
tween it and the conic section on either side of the point
of contact, it is said to have the same curvature with the
conic section in the point of contact, and it is called the
Circle of Curvature.
Lemma.
If straight lines be drawn touching a circle at the ex¬
tremities of any chord, and from any point in the circum¬
ference straight lines be drawn parallel to the tangents,
to terminate in the chord; these lines will be equal; and
the square of each will be equal to the rectangle contain¬
ed by the segments of the chord between each line and
the point of contact of the tangent to which it is parallel.
Case 3. Lastly, let the line PNO fall within the base;
draw VT through the vertex parallel to EG. The tri¬
angles HVT, HEL are similar, as also the triangles KVT,
KGL, therefore
HT : TV = HL : LE,
and KT : TV = KL : LG;
therefore HT * Kd — 1V2 ~ HL • LK : LE * LG or LF .
Hence it appears that HL • LK has to LF a constant
ratio, therefore the section DFKMS is an hyperbola, ol
which KH is a transverse diameter, and FM an ordinate
to that diameter (2 Cor. 19, Part III.).
Scholium. From the four preceding propositions it
appears, that the only lines which can be loimed by the
common section of a plane and the surface of a cone, are
these five : 1. A straight line, or rather two straight lines
intersecting each other in the vertex of the cone, and
forming with the straight line which joins the points in
which they meet the base, a triangle; 2. A circle; 3. An
ellipse; 4. A parabola; 5. An hyperbola. The first two
of these, however, viz. the triangle and circle, may be re¬
ferred to the hyperbola and the ellipse; for if the axes of
an hyperbola be supposed to retain a constant ratio to
each other, and, at the same time, to diminish continu¬
ally, till at last the vertices coincide; the opposite hyper¬
bolas will evidently become two straight lines intersecting
each other in a point; and a circle may be considered as
an ellipse, whose axes are equal, or whose foci coincide
with the centre; so that the only three sections which
require to be separately considered are the ellipse, the pa¬
rabola, and the hyperbola.
Sect. II.-—Of the Curvature of the Conic Sections.
Definitions.
I. A circle is said to touch a conic section in any point
Let PL be any chord in a circle, and FPG, FLK tan¬
gents at P and L; if from any point H in the circum¬
ference there be drawn HE, HD parallel to FG, FL re¬
spectively, meeting the chord in E and D ; the lines HE,
HD are equal; and the square of each is equal to the
rectangle LD ’PE.
The sides of the triangle HDE being parallel to those
of the triangle FLP, viz. HD to FL and HE to FP, the
triangles are equiangular (29,1, E.) ; now the angles FPL,
FLP of the latter are equal (32, 3, E.), therefore the cor¬
responding angles HED, FIDE of the foimer aie equal,
and HD = HE. . i ' TTr/00 .
And because the angle DHL is equal to HLK. (4J, i,
E.), and this last is equal to EPH (32, 3, E.); also, be¬
cause the angle HLD is equal to HPG (32, 3, E.), whici
again is equal to PHE (29, 1, E.); the triangles DHL,
EPH are equiangular. Therefore
LD : DH = HE : EP,
and (16, 6, E.) LD • EP = DH ■ HE = HD2 = HE2.
If the point h be in the arc of the opposite segment, and
hd be drawn parallel to FL, and AE to PF, it will m like
manner appear that
Ld • EP = hd1 — AE2.
Cor. 1. The points D and d being determined as direct¬
ed in the proposition,
LP : LD = LH2 : LP2,
and LP : Cd — Clr : Cp°.
The triangles DLH, HLP have the angle at L common
to both, and the angles DHL, HPL equal, because each
is equal to the angle PILK (29, 1, E. and 32, 3, E.), tieie
fore they are equiangular ; hence
LP : LH = LH : LD (4, 6, E.),
and LP: LD ( = LP2: LH2) = LH2: LD2 (Cor. 19,6, E.>
In the same way it may be proved that
LP : Lrf = L42 : LcF.
vat
V
CONIC SECTIONS.
Cor. 2- If E, the intersection of the chords Wi, PL, be
between P and L, the points D, d will be on opposite
sides of the point P. For in this case the chord LH will
be greater than the chord LP, and the chord LA will be
less; therefore LH2 will be greater than LP2, and LA2
less; consequently (from Cor. 1) LD will be greater than
LP/and Ld less than LP.
Cor. 3. If the chord HA, which is parallel to the tan¬
gent PF, be supposed to approach continually towards
that tangent; the points D, d, and E will continually ap¬
proach to P, and may come nearer to it than any assign¬
able distance. *
Prop. I.
If a circle be described touching a conic section, and cut¬
ting off from the diameter that passes through the point
of contact a segment greater than the parameter of that
diameter; a part of the circumference on each side of
the point of contact will be wholly without the conic
section; but if it cut oft'a segment less than the para¬
meter, a part of the circumference on each side of the
point of contact will be wholly within the conic section.
Fig. 1.
Fig. 2.
255
Curvature.
Next let PL, the segjnent of the diameter cut off by the
circle, be less than PR the parameter; as before, let Nrc
an ordinate to the diameter Pp meet the circle in H and
A, and let HD, hd be parallel to the tangent LQ; then, as
in the preceding case,
NE2 : HE2 = LR : LD,
and wE2 : AE2 = LR : L<A
Suppose now PD to be less than PR (Cor. 3, Lemma),
then LD and Le? will each be less than LR, and therefore
HE will be less than NE, and AE less than nE ; hence the
arc HPA of the circle will be within the parabola.
Fig. 3.
Case 1. Let the section be a parabola KNPwA ; let Pp
be any diameter, and PG a tangent at P its vertex. Let
a circle KHP/«A touch the parabola and tangent at P, and
cut off from the diameter a segment PL either greater
or less than its parameter (fig. 1, 2). An arc PIPA of
the circle, extending to each side of the vertex P, will
be wholly without the parabola or wholly within it.
First let PL be greater than RL, a segment of the dia¬
meter equal to the parameter (fig. 1); draw LQ touching
the circle at L; let Nn, an ordinate to the diameter Vp,
meet the circle in H and A, and draw HD, hd parallel to
LQ, meeting the diameter in D and d.
Because NE2 = wE2 = PE * LR (Cor. to 11 of Part I.),
and HE2 = PE-LD1 N
also AE2 = PE • Lrf j (Lemma) ;
therefore NE2 : HE2 = LR : LD,
and nW- ; AE2 = LR : Lrf.
Now since Yd may be less than any given line (Cor. 3
to Lemma), let it be less than PR ; then LD and Yd will
both be greater than LR, and consequently HE will be
greater than NE, and AE greater than wE ; therefore the
arc of the circle FIPA will be wholly without the parabola.
Case 2. Now let the curve be an ellipse or hyperbola
(fig. 3 and 4).1 First let the circle, which has a common
tangent PG with the curve at the vertex of the diameter,
cut off from it a segment PL greater than LR, a segment
of the chord equal to its parameter. Let Nrc, an ordinate
to Yp, meet the circle in H and A : draw LQ touching the
circle at L, and draw HD, hd parallel to LQ. Take a
point V in Pn, such that
Yp : juE = LR : LV;
then Yp : LR = Yp : LV.
Now PE • Ep : NE2 = Yp : LR = Yp : LV (15, Part II.,
and 21, Part III.) ;
—
1 The reasoning in the case of the hyperbola is exactly like that for the ellipse; therefore, to avoid multiplying figures, those for
toe hyperbola are omitted.
256
CONIC SECTIONS.
Curvature, hence also PE • Ejo: NE2 — PE * Ep: PE • LV (1, 6, E.),
therefore NE2 — wE2 — PE • LV.
Now HE2 = PE • LD, and AE2 = PE • Ld,
therefore NE2 : HE2 = LV : LD, •
and «E2 : AE2 = LV : LeA
Let the chord HA of the circle have such a position that
Yd is less than PR (Cor. 3 to Lemma) ; then pd and pY>
will both be greater than jt>R, and consequently greater
than pV, which is less than ^?R. In this position of the
chord, and in every other nearer to the tangent, NE will
be less than HE, and nE less than AE; therefore the arc
HPA of the circle will be entirely without the ellipse or
hyperbola on each side of their common point P.
Lastly, suppose that the segment LP of the diameter
cut off by the ch'cle is less than LR its parameter; then
the same construction being made as in the other case, we
shall have NE2: HE2 = LV : LD,
nE2 : AE2 = LV : Ed.
Now, when the ordinate Nra approaches toward the tan¬
gent PG, the point D will approach to P, and the point V
to R ; therefore there will be a position of the ordinate in
which LD and Ed will be both less than LV; and the
same will be true for all positions nearer to the tangent.
In these, NE will be greater than HE, and nE greater
than AE; thus it appears that the arc HPA will be with¬
in the curve, to a certain extent, on each side of the
point P. _
Cor. L If a circle touch a conic section, and cut oft
from the diameter that passes through the point of con¬
tact a segment equal to its parameter, it will have the
same curvature with the conic section in the point of con-
tact. . .
For if a greater circle be described, it will cut off a seg¬
ment greater than its parameter, therefore a part of its
circumference on each side of the point of contact will be
wholly without the conic section; and as it will also be
without the former circle, it will not pass between that
circle and the conic section at the point of contact. If,
on the other hand, a less circle be described, it will cut
off from the diameter a less segment than its parameter,
therefore a part of the circumference on each side of the
point of contact will fall within the conic section; and as
it will be within the former circle, it will not pass between
that circle and the conic section at the point of contact.
Hence (Def. 2), the circle which cuts off a segment
equal to the parameter is the circle of equal curvature.
Prop. II.
The circle of curvature at the vertex of the axis of a
parabola, or at the vertex of the transverse axis of an
ellipse or hyperbola, falls wholly within the conic sec¬
tion; but the circle of curvature at the vertex of theCu%
conjugate axis of an ellipse falls wholly without the ^
conic section.
Fig. 1.
P
Let Pp be the axis of a parabola, and PHLA the circle
of curvature at its vertex, which therefore (1 Cor. l)cuts
off from the axis a segment PL equal to the parameter of
the axis; if a tangent were drawn to the parabola at its
vertex, it would also be a tangent to the circle at that
point, therefore the centre of the circle is in Pp. Let
NErc, an ordinate to the axis, meet the circle in H and
A It may be shown, as in the preceding proposition,
that NE2: HE2 = LP : LE.
Now, in every position of the ordinate, LP is greater than
LE ; therefore NE2 is always greater than HE2, and «E2 is
greater than AE2; therefore the circle is wholly without
the parabola. #
Next, let Yp be the transverse axis of an ellipse (fig. 2),
or hyperbola (fig. 3), or the conjugate axis of an ellipse
(fig. 4), and PHLA the circle of curvature ; then, as in the
parabola, the centre of the circle will be in the axis. In
each case draw Nw, an ordinate to the axis meeting the
circle in H and A, and take a point V in PL, so that
pP : pE — LP : LV ;
then it will appear, as in the last Proposition, that
NE2: HE2 = LV : LE.
Fig. 2.
Now, when Pp is the transverse axis of an ellipse (fig.
2), since Pp is greater than LP and Pp : PL =PE : EV,
therefore PE is greater than PV; and hence LV is al¬
ways greater than LE ; therefore NE2 is greater than
HE2, also «E2 is greater than AE2; hence the circle falls
wholly within the ellipse.
i#
/T
CONIC S
<. Again, when Vp is the transverse axis of an hyperbola
'(fig. 3), pE is greater than joP, and therefore LV is
greater than LP, and consequently greater also than LE ;
hence NE2 is greater than HE2, and nW greater than /«E2,
and the circle is wholly within the hyperbola.
Fig. 4.
P
Lastly, when ¥p is the conjugate axis of an ellipse (fig.
4), since pV is in this case less than LP, and pP: LP —
Pfi : PV, therefore PE is less than PV ; hence LV is less
than LE, and consequently NE2 is less than HE2, and
«E2 less than /^E2; therefore the circle is wholly without
the ellipse.
Prop. III.
The circle of curvature at the vertex of any diameter of
a conic section which is not an axis, meets the conic
section again in one point only ; and between that point
and the vertex of the diameter the circle falls wholly
within the conic section on the one side, and wholly
without it on the other.
Case 1. Let the conic section be a parabola, of which
PL is a diameter, and let PLK be the circle of curvature
at its vertex; cutting off from the diameter a segment PL
equal to its parameter ; draw PG touching the circle and
parabola at P, and LQ touching the circle in L ; also draw
PK parallel to LQ, meeting the circle in K, and KT paral¬
lel to PG, meeting the axis in T. The lines KP, KT
will be equal, and
KT2 = PT • LP (Lemma);
therefore KT is a semi-ordinate to the diameter PL (Cor.
Prop. 11, Part I.), and K is a point in the parabola. And
since only one line PK can be drawn parallel to the tan¬
gent LQ, only one such point K can be found ; therefore
the circle of curvature cuts the parabola in one point, be-
VOL. VII.
ECTIONS. 257
sides the vertex of the diameter, and in no more. Be-Curvature,
tween P and P draw NE?/ any ordinate to the diameter
1 L, meeting the circle in H and h, and draw HD, hd pa¬
rallel to the tangents LQ, HD, meeting the axis in D and
a; and because
NE2 also nW = PE • PL (Cor. Prop. 11, Part I.)
and HE2 — PE • LD1 /T \ '
and h E2 r= PE • Ltf j (Lemma),
therefore NE2 : HE2 = PL : LD,
and wE2 : 7/E2 PL : L,d.
Now PL is less than LD; therefore NE is less than HE,
and the circular arc PHK is without the parabola from the
vertex to the intersection K. If the ordinate be more re¬
mote from the vertex than the position KT, then D and d
will be both on the same side of the vertex, and therefore
PL will be greater than LD, also greater than "Ld, and
consequently NE will be greater than HE, also wE than
/?E; hence it follows that the arc PLK falls wholly with¬
in the parabola.
Case 2. Let the conic section be either an ellipse or a
hyperbola, of which Pp is a diameter, and PLK the circle
of equal curvature at its vertex, cutting off a segment PL
equal to its parameter. Draw LQ touching the circle, and
pQ touching the curve; and because this line is parallel
to the line PG, which touches the circle and ellipse at P,
the lines LQ, pQ make equal acute or obtuse angles (but
in opposite directions) with ph; therefore they will meet
at a point Q. Join PQ; and because Q is without the
circle, and P is in the circumference, the line PQ, which
cannot be a tangent, must cut the circle in one other point
K, and in no more. Draw KS and KT parallel to QL and
Qp, meeting Pjo in S and T.
Because of the parallels,
Pp : pT = PQ : QK = PL : LS (2, 6, E.) ;
therefore (by alt.) Pp: PL =pT: LS = pT*TP: LS • TP.
But LS * PT = KT2 (Lemma),
therefore Pp : PL =pT • TP : KT2.
Hence KT is a semi-ordinate to the diameter Pp, and K is
a point in the ellipse or hyperbola (15 of Part II. and 24
of Part III.)
Draw NE?/, any ordinate to the diameter, so as to meet
the equicurve circle in H and //, and the line PQ in Y.
Draw HDZ, hdz parallel to LQ, meeting Pp, PQ in D, Z
and in d, z ; also draw YV parallel to LQ, meeting Pp in
V.
Because of the parallel lines,
Pp-.Pp = PQ : YQ = PL : VL,
hence Pp : PL ( = Pp : VL) = PE • Pp : PP-
But Pp : PP = PP • Pp NE2 or ?/E2,
therefore NE2 = nPl = PE • VL.
But HE2 = PE • LD) x
and KP2 =.PP‘Pd j (LemmaA
2 K
VL.
258
Curvature.
CONIC SECTIONS.
therefore NE2 : HE2 = VL : LD = YK : KZ,
and wE2 : 7iE2 = VL : Lc? = YK : Kz.
Now wherever the point H be taken in the arc PHK, it
is manifest that YK will be less than KZ, therefore also
NE is less than HE; thus the arc PHK falls wholly
without the conic section. Again, since YK always ex¬
ceeds Kz, therefore wE always exceeds /*E; hence the
arc PAK falls wholly within the section.
Prop. IV.
The chord of the circle of curvature which is drawn from
the point of contact through the focus of a parabola is
equal to that which is cut off from the diameter; and
half the radius of the circle is a third proportional to the
perpendicular from the focus upon the tangent, and the
distance of the point of contact from the locus.
Let PL be the chord cut off from the diameter, and PFH
the chord passing through F the locus; draw PM the dia¬
meter of the circle; join HL, HM, and draw FK perpen¬
dicular to the tangent at P. Because the lines PFH, PL
make equal angles with the tangent at I (3, 1 ait I.), the
angles PHL, PLH are equal (32, 3, E.) ; hence PH = PL.
Secondly, the triangles FKP, PHM being manifestly si¬
milar, ,
FK : FP = PH, or 4 PF : PM,
hence FK : FP = FP : | PM, or | the radius.
2FP2
Cor. 1. Hence the radius is equal to ■j.pr •
2FK3
Cor. 2. The radius is also equal to -^p2-, where AF is
the distance of the focus from the vertex of the parabola;
for FP = (13> Part L>
FL-FP3
Cor. 3. Hence also the radius is equal to ~ where
L denotes the parameter of the axis ; for
2FP2 _ 2AF-FP3 _ 1L-FP3
"FIT “ AF-FP-FK FK3 *
Prop. V.
The radius of the circle of curvature at the vertex of any
diameter of an ellipse or hyperbola is a third propor¬
tional to the perpendicular drawn from the centre upon
the tangent and half the conjugate diameter; and the
chord which is drawn from the point of contact through
the focus is a third proportional to the transverse axis
and conjugate diameter.
Let PL be the chord cut off from the diameter, and
PFH the chord passing through F the focus; draw PM
the diameter of the circle, and from the centre 0 draw
OR perpendicular to PL, which will bisect PL in R;
join HM, and draw the conjugate diameter QC^ meeting
PH in N and PM in S, then PS is equal to the perpendi¬
cular from the centre C upon the tangent. I he triangles
PSC, PRO are similar; therefore
PS : PC — PR : PO •
but PC CQ =: CQ : PR (Def. of param.),
therefore PS ; CQ = CQ ; PO.
Secondly, the triangles PSN, PHM are similar,
therefore PN : PS = PM : PH.
But PS : CQ = (CQ : PO =). Qg : PM,
therefore PN : CQ — Q# : PH,
or, since PN = AC (Cor. to 19, Part II. and to 28, Part
III.) Aa :Qq=Qg: PH.
Cor. 1. Hence the radius of curvature is equal to
; and the chord passing through the focus is equal to
±0
2CQ2
AC'
CQ3
Cor. 2. The radius of curvature is also equal to
AC-BC ^ part u and 26, Part III.)
for PS =
QC
Cor. 3. Draw FK from the focus perpendicular to the
tangent, and let L denote the parameter of the transverse
i i ~Q I ^ l^P3
axis ; the radius of curvature is also equal to pjp
For the triangles PFK, NPS are manifestly similar; there¬
fore FK : FP = PS : PN, or AC = BC : CQ;
FP
hence CQ — X BC, and
CQ3
FP3 BC2
;F^XAC
= .Sx;l.
AC-BC FK3''AC FK3
This expression for the radius of curvature is the same
for all the three conic sections.
Sect. III.—Areas of the Conic Sections.
Lemma.
Let ABCD, abed, two trapeziums, have each two pa¬
rallel sides, and let the angles which the parallel sides Ad,
DC of the one figure make with its side BC be equa t
the angles which ab, dc, the parallel sides of the other
figure, make with its side be ; also, in the one hguie,
CONIC SECTIONS.- • 259
£F which is parallel to AB and DC, bisect the opposite
sides BC, AD in F and E, and in the other figure let ef,
a parallel to ab and dc, bisect be and ad in e and f; the
trapezium ABCD is to the trapezium abed as the rect¬
angle BC-EF to the rectangle beef.
Through E and e draw GH and gh parallel to BC and
be, forming the parallelograms GC, gc. The triangles
AEG, DEH are manifestly equal (26, 1, E.) ; therefore
the trapezium ABCD is equal to the parallelogram GBCH.
In the same way it appears that the trapezium abed is
equal to the parallelogram gbch. Now the parallelogram
GC has to the parallelogram ge the ratio compounded
of the ratios of BG to bg, and of BC to be (23, 6, E.) ;
and the rectangle BC'BG has to the rectangle bc'bg the
ratio which is compounded of the same ratios ; therefore
trap. ABCD : trap, abed — BC’BG : bc'bg = BC'EF : bc'ef.
Prop. I.
In a parabola, let ABCD be a trapezium formed by PB,
any diameter, AB, CD semi-ordinates to that diameter,
and AD a chord in the curve ; and let EFGH be ano¬
ther trapezium formed by PF, a tangent at the vertex
of the diameter PB, by AF, DG, diameters produced
at A, D, and EH a tangent parallel to the chord: the
trapezium ABCD is double the trapezium EFGH.
Let L be the point of contact of the tangent EH ; draw
a diameter through L, meeting the chord AD in I, and
the tangent PF in N; draw LM a semi-ordinate to the
diameter PB, and IK parallel to LM. Let^> be the pa¬
rameter of the diameter PB. And because AD is bisect¬
ed in I, and BK : KC = AI : ID = FN : NG, therefore
BC is bisected in K and FG in N.
And because p • PB = AB2 = PF2,
and p • PC = DC2 = PG2;
therefore p • BC = PF2 — PG2
= (PF + PG) (PF — PG),
that is, p • BC =r 2PN • FG = 2LM • FG. Areas.
Now p • PM = p • LN = LM2,
therefore • BC : /? • LN = 2LM • FG : LM2,
and BC : LN z= 2FG : LM or IK,
and hence BC • IK = 2FG • LN.
Now, by the premised lemma, the trapezium ABCD is
to the trapezium EFGH as the rectangle BC • IK to the
rectangle FG • LN; therefore the trapezium ABCD is
double the trapezium EFGH.
Scholium. Since GH may be of any magnitude, the
proposition will still be true when the points H and G co¬
incide in the line PF.
Prop. II.
Let AB be a semi-ordinate to PB, any diameter of a para¬
bola ; complete the parallelogram ABPC, by drawing
PC a tangent at the vertex, and AC parallel to PB :
the space comprehended by PA, the arc of the para¬
bola, and PB, AB, the absciss and ordinate, is two
thirds of the parallelogram PBAC.
Divide PC into any odd number of equal parts, seven
for example; let Yd be one, Ye three, and Yf five of
these ; take Yd' equal to Yd, and draw d'Y>', dD, eYi,fK.
parallel to PB, meeting the curve in D' D, H, K ; these
lines, when produced, will be diameters ; and they will be
equidistant, because they divide the line Cd' into equal
parts. Because Yd — Yd', therefore e?D = d'T)' (11, 1, of
this). Join DD', which will be parallel to dd! (33, 1, E.);
let it meet PB in N; produce it to meet the other dia¬
meters in E, F, G. Draw HL, KM parallel to PC, also
the chords DH, HK, KA, and, parallel to them, the tan¬
gents dh, lik, ka. And because the diameters whose ver¬
tices are D', D, FI, are equidistant, the tangents dd', hd
will intersect each other at d, a point in the diameter
passing through D (3 Cor. 15, 1); for a like reason the
tangents hd, hk will intersect in He, and hk, ok in FK.
The triangles HED, lied are in all respects equal, for
DH = dh (34, 1, E.) DE = de; and since H/i = Dc? = Ee,
therefore HE = he. The trapeziums KHEF, khef are also
equal; for HE, a side of the one, is equal to he, a side of
the other, and HK, EF are equal to hk, ef respectively,
and make equal angles with the equal sides HE, he be¬
tween them; therefore if the trapeziums be applied, one
on the other, so that the equal sides HE, he coincide, the
260
Areas.
CONIC SECTIONS.
sides HK, bk will coincide, also EF, ef and the trapezi¬
ums will entirely coincide. In like manner, the trapeziums
AKFG, a^/C are proved to be equal; and because the tra¬
pezium LHDN is double the triangle hde or its equal
HDE (preceding Prop.), and the trapezium MKHL dou¬
ble the trapezium fhhe, or its equal FKHE, and the tra¬
pezium BAKM double aCfk, that is, double AGFK, the
polygon NDHKAB will be double the polygon DHKAG;
but these together make up the parallelogram ABNG;
therefore the polygon NDHKAB, inscribed in the para¬
bola, is two thirds of the parallelogram ABNG. Now the
space bounded by the arc PA, the absciss PB, and semi-
ordinate AB, exceeds -the inscribed polygon; therefore it
also is greater than two thirds of the parallelogram A bNG,
or two thirds of the parallelogram ABPC, diminished by
two thirds of the parallelogram PCGN.
The parallelograms HDof/*, EDtfe are equal (35, 1, F.),
so also are KHM, Ee/F, and AKha, GF/C (36, 1, E.)
Therefore the sum of the four parallelograms A/e, K«, il«,
DP is equal to the parallelogram GNPC. Now if the po¬
lygon inscribed in the parabola be increased by these four
parallelograms, there will be formed the polygon PrfMaB,
which exceeds the parabollic area; therefore that area is
less than two thirds of the parallelogram ABNG increas¬
ed by the whole parallelogram GNPC, and consequently
less than two thirds of the parallelogram ABPC increased
by one third of the parallelogram GNPC.
Let the parabolic space PAB be denoted by S, the pa-
rallelogram PCAB by P, and the parallelogram PNGC
by V.
It has been proved that S ^> § R—-f- V,
Prop. III.
Are;
and that S Z. f R +
This is true whatever may be the magnitude of V; but
the line Pd may be taken such that V may be less than
any assignable space; therefore S can be equal to no as¬
signable space that is either greater or less than two
thirds of the space R, and consequently is exactly equal
to two thirds of the space R.
Definition.
If the axes of a hyperbola be equal, it is called an Izym-
lateral hyperbola.
If two ellipses, or two hyperbolas, have a common trans¬
verse axis, and if from the same point in the axis there
be drawn a semiordinate to each; the areas contained
by the common absciss, the ordinates, and the curves,
will be to each other as their conjugate axes.
Let AMBa, Amba be two ellipses, and AMD, Amdtwo
hyperbolas, which have each pair a common transverse
axis Aa ; and let BC, be be their conjugate axes, andDE,
rfE semiordinates at the same point E in the common
axis; the area AMDE is to the area AmdP as the axis
BC to the axis bC.\
Let the common absciss in both curves be divided into
any number of equal parts AP, PQ, QE ; draw semior¬
dinates PmM, Q«N, and the chords AM, MN, ND, Am,
mn, nd.
In the case of two ellipses,
MP2 : AP • Pa = BC2: AC2 ;1 n o P x
and AP • Pa : mP2 = AC2 : 6C2; j }
therefore, ex. ceq. MP2 : mP" — BC2 : &C2,
and MP : mP = BC : bC.
In the same way, in the two hyperbolas it may be
proved that
MP : mP = NQ : wQ = DE : dE = BC : 6C.
Now, in both curves (by 1, 6, E.),
triangle APM : triangle APm — PM : Pm — BC : 6C;
and since MP : NQ = mP : nQ,
therefore, by composition and alternation,
MP -f NQ : mP + «Q =: NQ : «Q = BC : bP.
But MP + NQ: mP + nQ= trap. MPQN : trap. mPQn;
therefore, trap. MPQN : trap. mPQn = BC : bC.
In the same way it appears that the trapezium NQED
is to the trapezium wQEg? as BC to Z>C ; therefore (12, 5,
E.), polygon AMNDE : polygon AmndE = BC : bC.
This must be true, however great may be the number
of sides of the polygon AMNDE, AmndE inscribed in the
curvilinear spaces ; but by a known principle in geometry,
the limits of the polygons (which are the curvilinear spaces)
must have the same ratio as the polygons themselves;
therefore the curvilinear spaces AND, Awe? have the same
ratio as the semiconjugate gxes BC, bC.
Cor. 1. Hence it appears that the area of an ellipse is
to that of its circumscribing circle as the conjugate axis
to the transverse axis.
Cor. 2. It also appears, that the area of any segment
of an ellipse may be found from that of a corresponding
segment of a circle ; and the area of a segment of any hy¬
perbola from the corresponding segment of an equilateral
hyperbola.
The quadrature of the hyperbola was perfectly accom¬
plished by Archimedes; but it has been found impossible
to find rectilinear spaces exactly equal to elliptic and hy¬
perbolic areas; these can only be exhibited numerically
by infinite series. In what follows, series will be inves¬
tigated from principles as elementary as the nature of the
subject will admit of; but it will be convenient to employ
the symbols of algebra in the reasoning; and we shall con¬
fine the investigation to sectors of a circle and an equila¬
teral hyperbola, from which sectors of any ellipse and hy¬
perbola may be found.
Prof. IV.
Let C be the centre of a circle, or of an equilateral hyper¬
bola, and CA the semitransverse axis ; let ACB,
be two equal sectors of the circle or hyperbola, and e
AEIK, a tangent at the vertex A, meet the semidiame-
ters CB, CD in H and K.
CONIC SECTIONS.
In the circle 2C A : AK = C A* — AH2: C A • AH.
In the hyperbola 2CA : AK = C A2 + AH2: CA • AH.
In each curve draw DA, Da to the extremities of the
axis; let the chord AD meet the semidiameter CB in O
and draw DE perpendicular to the axis.
Because AO = OD (3, 3, E. and Prop. 33, Part III.),
and AC = Ca; the lines CH, aD are parallel (2, 6, EA
therefore the triangles C AH, aED are similar. ’
Now ED2 = AE • Ea (35, 3, E. and 22 of Sect. HI.)
therefore AE : ED = ED : Ea (16, 6, E.) ;
hence the triangles DEA, aED are similar (6, 6, E.)
and each is similar to C AH, therefore
aE : ED = AC : AH = AC2; AC • AH •
AE: ED = AH: AC = AH2: AC • AH.’
Hence, in the circle,
aE — AE or 2CE: ED = AC2 — AH2: AC • AH
and in the hyperbola (24, 5, E.),
aE -f AE or 2CE; ED — AC2 4- API2: AC • AH •
But 2CE: ED = 2C A : AK ;
therefore, in the circle, 2C A : AK= AC2 AH2: AC* AH-
and, in the hyperbola, 2GA: AK = AC2 + AH2 ; AC * AH.’
Paop. V. Problem.
To investigate a formula that shall express the area of any
sector of a circle, or of an equilateral hyperbola. ^
Let ACD be a sector of a circle or hyperbola, and AC
the radius of the circle, or semitransverse axis of the hy¬
perbola ; let the sector be bisected by the semidiameter
CB, and again each of the sectors ACB, BCD by the semi¬
diameters CP, CQ, and so on; thus dividing the sector
ACB first into two equal sectors, then into four, then into
eight, and so on. Draw tangents to the curves at the al¬
ternate points A, B, D, and because, from the nature of the
curves, the chords which join these points are ordinates
to the semidiameters CP, CQ which pass between them,
the tangents will intersect each other at G and L, points
in the semidiameters (1 Cor. Prop. 10, Sect. III.). Join
A, B, any two contiguous points, and let the chord AB
meet CP in I; and because the triangles ACI, BCI are
equal (38, 1, E.), and also the triangles AGI, BGI, the tri¬
angles CAG, CBG are equal. In the same way it appears
that the triangles DCL, BCL are equal.
Again, because the semidiameter CB bisects the chord
which joins the points P, Q, it will bisect GL, the tangent
parallel to the chord ; therefore the triangles GCB, LCB
are equal. Hence it appears that the triangles ACG,
GCB, BCL, LCD are all equal; and this will be true
whatever be their number.
Let AK, a tangent at the vertex A, meet the semidia¬
meters CP, CB, CD in G, H, K. Put a to denote CA,
the radius of the circle or semiaxis of the hyperbola, and
let the lines AK, AH, AG, &c. be denoted by t, t', t", &c.
These lines in the circle are the tangents of the arcs AD,
AB, AP, &c. We shall, by analogy, consider them as tan¬
gents corresponding to the sectors DCA, BCA, PCA in
the two curves.
And because
2a\t — (P rp ^: at' (Prop. 4 of this Sect.),
the upper sign applying to the circles, and the lower to
the hyperbola, therefore
a?   a2 t'
~t ~ 2y
261
Area.
, . , a* a* t"
and similarly, _ = _ z+r _ ;
($’
Let the value of —, found from this second formula be
substituted instead of it in the first, and there is obtained
a2   a2  ft'
1 4? -1V2 + 4/’
j i .a3 a2 ft' ■ t"\
fo ’ 4af' t \2 4/
Now \at" or 4CA • AG is eight times the triangle ACG,
that is, double the polygon CAGLD. Let st denote this
polygon, and then we have
a3   a2 ft' , t''\
2?~ T \2 + 4/’
By carrying on the process of bisecting the sector ACD
continually, so as to divide it next into 8, then into 16,
then into 32 equal parts, and so on, putting t'" for the tan-
262
Areas, gent corresponding to its 8th part; t"" for that correspond-
ing to its 16th, &c. there is obtained
CONIC SECTIONS.
and hence t' — a
f
+
t"' . t’"’ , e \
    ^ , — -j- — &c. !• .
^S' t \2 & ^ C Cti1;c cot-Ipc; nf fractions, bv which the tangents t', t",
Now the polygon CAGLD manifestly approaches con- This series ot o e;mniPfe manner from
r2 — 1
T ’
v* + 1
If — a
1 ~ 1 .Area!;
-,f = a — ^
+ 1
i;8 + 1
  • „ . >stly approac es con- ‘ r d b - f rme(i in a very simple manner from
tinually to the area of the sector in either curve, as the aie expiessea, oe & ^ ^ ^ ^
number of its sides is increased, and at last may differ tlie fourtb, the eighth root, &c. oF v = -—
from it by less any than assignable quantity; therefore, put¬
ting now s for the area of the sector ACB, and consider- ^|iey may be easily computed, and thence the values of
ing°that s is the limit of the polygon, we have t", &c., and the sector, readily found.
„ o fit f t"" \ 'pbe trigonometrical tables may be made available in
= y ± + I + "8 + 16 +’ &C / 5 the quadrature of the hyperbolic sector, by the preceding
the series in the parenthesis being carried on ad in Jim- ^YJ'^been p^ve
turn ; and hence, putting
V , t" , t>"
c==2 + 4 + '8 + 16’
we have 2s —
a:J
rmuia in mis way. . . , c .   ,
It has been proved in the calculus of sines, that v and
2; being any two arcs,
sin. 7; + sin. 2 _ tan. ± (v + z) ('Algebra> sectt
sin. v — sin. z tan. ^ (v zj
Suppose now that is a right angle = ^ cr, then the for¬
mula becomes
tan. (j + i *).
tan
1 + tan. 1 2:
and tan. 2) — y
z
Algebra,
sect. 241.
therefore
+ tan. ^ z'-
1 + sin. z _ /I -f~ tan. z\2
\1 — tan. | z)
1 + -
a
^\2
a)
This is the formula which was to be investigated, and in ^ gjn. ^
its application the upper part of the sign z±z applies to t re
circle, and the lower to the hyperbola.
Scholium. In computing the area of a sector of a cir-
cle, or hyperbola, the values of the tangents AH, AG, Ac. (* r. 1 S\ - L+ 
that is, t', t”, &c. must be found from the first t, and from Now tan. ^4, "i- 2 ~j i — tan. i z
each other. In the circle
— — aif (Prop. 4) ;
hence 2a2^, = aft — ttf1.
From this, by the resolution of a quadratic equation, we
find
-■Hyo-AHV (U
and similarly, tn — (\ + 1 j ’ &c'
A few of the quantities t\ t", t"\ &c. may be computed
from this formula; but when one (t"\ for instance) has
been found such that — is a small fraction, those which the trjg0nometrical formula tan. £ 2 is related to sin. 2;
a , , • 1 . • find a like remark may be made on the relations between
follow may be most readily computed by a senes obtain- and a like remarK y
-1 &c.
a a
Hence we have the following formula for finding the
area of the hyperbolic sector.
Find from the trigonometrical tables the series of sines
t
sin. 2, sin. z\ sin. z”, sin. z'\ &c. such that sin. 2 = -,
1 — sin. z
Now we have, in the hyperbola,
(1 + 3\ 1 + H_(1 +
_ i h ’ 1 — - (1 —-
a \ a) a \ a
, &c.
From this it appears that - is related to exactly as in
ed from J{1 + llj by evolution, or the binomial theo¬
rem ; thus, since
t
/(1 4.,<2 > -1 +1 , &c.
V V1 + Vy 1 + 2 a2 8 «4 ^ a6
therefore t' —
+
1
1 6
—, &C.
sin. z> = tan. i 2, sin. z" = tan. ^2', &c.; then s denoting,
For the quadrature of the hyperbola, the tangents f, as above, the hyperbolic sector
&c. are found from the first by formulas entirely similar to
the above, differing only in the signs of the terms. In this
curve, however, the tangents have a property which those
in the circle have not, by which their computation may be
facilitated. For since, in the hyperbola,
a : t = a? + tf2 : ‘2atf (Prop. IV.)
therefore a + t: a — t = a2 + 2a*' + G : ar 2a*'-H'2 5
that is, a + ^ : a — * _ (a + *)“ : (« 0 •
a _l *' /V* + A 2 .
Hence^=(—J >
a2*
2 s =
2 5 =
a — *?(i sin. %z + ± sin. i z + ± sin. | 2 +, &c.)
a + t" fa + t'2 \
and similarly, ~t„ = ),
&c.
a t . ^ a-p*'
Now, let ^ then — ^
a —t a, — v
i a + *" i c
v2,   = v4, &c.;
| _ (i sin. |2'+i sin. i 2" + J sin. £ 2'" +, &c.)
Since the series in the denominator approaches continu¬
ally to a geometrical series, of which the common ratio is
1, any term is nearly three times the sum of all the terms
which follow it. If then a term be found which agrees
in all the figures with £ of that before it, then £ of that
term may be taken as the sum of the remaining terms.
These expressions, and others, for the areas of the cir¬
cle and hyperbola, were given by Professor Wallace 0
Edinburgh, in the Edinburgh Philosophical Transaction,
vol. v. They are also contained in his Treatise on tonic
Sections.
CON
CONICHTHYODONTES, or Plectronit^e, in Na-
utural History, a name by which the fossil teeth of fishes
are sometimes distinguished.
CONISSALyE, a term formerly used in natural his¬
tory to signify a class of fossils, which were said to be na¬
turally and essentially compound, uninflammable, insoluble
in water, found in detached masses, and formed of crys¬
talline matter debased by earth. It included sand and
gritty substances.
CONJEE, a district of Hindustan, in the Carnatic,
intersected by the Palar river. It is comprehended in
the collectorship of Arcot, and is generally flat and sandy,
and, towards the Ghauts, thinly inhabited.
CONJEVERAM, a considerable town of Southern In¬
dia, in the Carnatic, which has all the appearance of a
: flourishing place. The streets are wide, and cross each
other at right angles, and have a row of cocoa-nut trees
on each side. The houses are generally built of mud ;
and have mud walls with tiled roofs. It contains several
tanks for water, which are lined with stone and in good
repair. This town is chiefly supported by a famous Hindu
temple, dedicated to Mahadera. The principal entrance
is very grand and lofty, and the sides of the steps leading
to the temple are formed by two elephants drawing a
chariot carved in stone. The sanctuary is surrounded
by a double wall, the outer inclosure of which contains
an extensive chantrai or caravanserai for pilgrims and
devotees.
CONJUGATE Diameter, or Axis of an Ellipsis, the
shortest of the two diameters, or that which bisects the
axis.
CONJUGATION, in Grammar, a regular distribution
of the several inflections of verbs into their different
voices, moods, tenses, numbers, and persons, so as to dis¬
tinguish them from one another.
CONJUNCTION, in Astronomy, the meeting of two or
more stars or planets in the same degree of the zodiac.
Conjunction, in Grammar, an indeclinable word or
particle, which serves to join words and sentences, and
shows their relation or dependence upon one another.
CONJURATION, magical words, characters, or cere¬
monies, by which evil spirits, tempests, and the like, are
supposed to be raised or driven away. The priests of the
Roman Catholic church pretend to expel devils, by pre¬
paring holy water in a particular manner, and sprinkling
it over the possessed, accompanied with a number of con¬
jurations and exorcisms.
According to some authors, the difference between con¬
juration and witchcraft consists in this, that the former
effects its object by prayers and invocation of God’s name,
to compel the devil to do what is desired, so that the
conjuror is supposed to be at war with the devil, and that
I evil spirit to act merely out of constraint; whereas the
latter attains its end by an immediate application to the
devil himself, and the complaisance of his Satanic majesty
is supposed to be the consequence of some compact be¬
tween him and the witch or wizard, so that all the parties
have a good understanding together. But conjuration
and witchcraft both differ from enchantment and sorcery,
which operate secretly and slowly by spells, charms, and
the like, without calling on the devil, or having any con¬
ference with that personage.
CONKAIR, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Gundwana, on the south bank of the Muhanuddy river,
105 miles south by west from Ruttunpoor. It is entirely
surrounded by hills covered by thick woods, and inha¬
bited by a barbarous race of mountaineers. Long. 83.
15. E. Lat. 20. 48. N.
CONNAUGHT, one of the four provinces into which
Ireland was ecclesiastically divided by Pope Eugenius III.
CON 263
in llo2. It is bounded on the south by the province of Connecti-
Munster, on the west hy the Atlantic Ocean, on the east cut-
by the river Shannon, and on the north by the Atlantic
and pait of Ulster. It contains five counties, Galway,
Leitrim, Mayo, Roscommon, and Sligo; forty-two baro¬
nies, and 2)(j parishes, subject to the control of the Arch¬
bishop of Tuam, and his suffragans, the Bishops of Clon-
feit, Elphin, and Killala. I he surface is mountainous,
and the climate moist but healthy. The Duke of Glou¬
cester, of the blood-royal, takes the title of earl from this
province. As the division of Ireland into provinces is not
recognised in any public act, a particular account of Con¬
naught is unnecessary here. That will be found in the
articles on the various counties which compose it, as
they occur alphabetically.
CONNECTICUT, one of the United States of North
America, is bounded on the north by Massachusetts, on
the east by Rhode Island, on the south by Long Island
Sound, and on the west by New York. The length of this
state from east to west is eighty-five miles; the mean
width sixty miles, and the area 5050 square miles. Con¬
necticut is in general hilly, sometimes mountainous, but in
no part rises to a great elevation above the level of the
sea. The greatest heights are a continuation of the Green
Mountains, on the western side of Connecticut river, and
even these are of moderate size. The country is healthy,
notwithstanding its being exposed to the extremes of heat
and cold, and also to sudden changes of temperature. In
winter keen north-west winds prevail; but the serenity of
the sky during the same season compensates in some
degree , the severity of the weather. Upon the coast,
in particular, the wind is exceedingly variable, but the
inland country is less subject to this vicissitude. The
soil for the most part is fertile, though at intervals inter¬
mixed with patches comparatively thin and barren; the
whole, however, is well watered, and in general in a state
of good cultivation. The chief productions are Indian
corn, rye, wheat, oats, barley, buck-wheat, flax in con¬
siderable quantities, some hemp, potatoes, pumpkins, tur¬
nips, peas, beans, &c. There are numerous orchards, and
cider is made for exportation. Great quantities of cattle,
horses, and sheep, are reared upon its fine meadows and
pastures, and the country in general is considered as bet¬
ter adapted for grazing than tillage. A great quantity of
very excellent cheese is made annually, and beef and pork
of a superior quality are also abundant. The farms are
for the most part small, consisting of from fifty to three
hundred and four hundred acres. This state is intersected
by numerous roads, which are generally kept in good con¬
dition. The exports consist of beef, pork, cattle, horses,
mules, butter, cheese, maize, rye, flax-seed, fish, candles,
and soap. Almost all the produce of the western part of
the state is conveyed to New York.
The manufacturing industry of Connecticut is consider¬
able, and greater than that of any other state in the union,
with the exception of Rhode Island. The manufactures
consist of cotton and woollen goods, tinware, iron, gin,
glass, paper, snuff, leather, powder, clocks, shoes, buttons,
fire-arms, carriages, &c. Several mines have been opened
in this state, but none of them wrought to any consider¬
able extent, except those of iron ore, abundance of which,
of an excellent quality, is found in Kent, Salisbury, and
in other places. Copper mines have also been wrought,
but the speculation proved unprofitable, and was aban¬
doned. Marble, porcelain clay, cobalt, black lead, and
an excellent freestone, are found in various parts of the
state.
Amongst the literary institutions of Connecticut may be
mentioned Yale College of New Haven, which is one of
the oldest and most respectable colleges in the United
264
CON
CON
connect!. States. It is furnished with an excellent library
United tes,3&8hSses,ri&c.,219,733neatcatUe,331)054
States. The American asylum for the education of the s1ic(?P;.nect1CUT) an imop0rtant river of the United States. W
deaf and dumb was established at Hartford in a . northern border of New Hampshire, which
was the first institution of the kind which appealed m ^
America. It received a grant from the congress of the state it separates ^ di’^h itgelf int0 Lo
United States of 23,000 acres of land; and the legis a uie gountl between Saybrook and Lime. Its course
of several individual states have made appropria ion for the most part is south-west until it reaches Middletown
the support of the pupils. ^ foreign rmssion l 1^^ ^ Connecticut5 after vvhich it has a south-south-east course
established at Cornwall in 1817, foi the P^P° to its mouth. Its whole length is 410 miles. For thirty-six
eating heathen youth from various parts of the M. ^A ^ itg mouth it is navigable for vessels drawing
law school was estabhshed at Lichfield m l d 1 tgn feet of water . for those drawing eight, fourteen miles
long had a great reputation. The Bacon Ac a y^^ ferther; and? b raeans of iocks and canals, it has been
Colchester, the Episcopal Academy of Chesh J, rendered navigable to Bath, in New Hampshire, a distance
Washington College at Hertford, are all flourishing insti ienaere^ f its e^nce with the sea. The falls
tutions. There are also academies m ^ aa ^ wMch have been rendered passable by artificial means
cipal towns of the state, and common schools are umver wmen ^ ^ ^ Connecticut, the Willemantic
sally established. There is a large school fun , ^ „ tbose at South Hadley, Montague, Walpole, Plain-
1824 amounted to 1,756,233 dollars, i >e yeai y ^ ’ field'and Lebanon. Of these, Bellow Falls, at Walpole,
together with 12,000 dollars from the PubllL'^ ^ h are ^he most remarkable. The Connecticut flows through
the support of common schoolmasters in eve y ^ ^ country> The land which borders upon it is for the
state. . ..   n rnn TTini,t nart of excellent quality, and there are upon its
The religious bodies are numerous, consist g J banksPmany beautiful and flourishing towns. Amongst
gregationahsts (who are the most numerous), tp » are “Haverhill, Hanover, Charlestown, and Wal-
Episcopalians, Methodists, ynl^f ^ls^ nob, in New Hampshire; Newbury, Windsor and Brattle-
tholics, Quakers, Shakers, and others. 1 e ■- borouo-h in Vermont; Greenfield, Hadley, Northampton,
^There^refive*incorporatedH&s"» SnnecUcut, nLe- and Springfield, in Massachusettsi and Hartford, Middle-
ly, Hartford, New Haven, Middletown, New London and “c^”“c“utemMmar> one of the four spe.
Norwich. Hartford and New Haven are the seats of the . l all words
state eovernment, and the sessions are held at each alter- ctes under wrncn, accoru g , . ,  .1; 
. &   r'rvr.r.or.itnnt. Honsa
VCll* m11 cj *-‘* *-'     " < __
nately. The principal rivers are the Connecticut, Housa-
tonic, Thames, Farmington, and Naugatuch.
The present constitution was framed in 18IS. me
legislature, styled the general assembly, is composed of a
senate of twelve members, and a house of representatives,
be included. They are of two kinds, and, according as
they connect sentences or words, are called by the respec¬
tive names of conjunctions and 'prepositions. _
CONNOISSEUR, a French term, much used m Eng¬
lish. It literally denqtes a person well versed in any
... — -—  - - . rrv, tHincr bpino- formed from the verb connoitre^ to know 01
eighty towns sending each two representatives understand! Hence it has come to be used in our kn¬
ottier towns founded since the charter of Chailes . f critic or person wb0 is a thorough judge or
1662 send one each. The governor, heutenant-govern ^ g g ^ particularly in matters of painting,
senators, and representatives, are all chosen annually m master m a y_^y, p ^
April. The general assembly has one stated session in P Bernard, a learned physician, was born in
each year, on the first Wednesday of May, an^ ^^ty of Ker^S Ireland, aLut the year 1666.
as they deem necessary. Judges of the supreme and s determined to apply himself to the study of physic,
perior courts hold their offices during good behaviom, ceeded t0 p'rance> and resided for some time in the
are disqualified when they reach seventy years of age. P Montpellier. He afterwards went to Paris,
The inhabitants are perfectly free from constraint in mat- in medicine, anatomy, and
ters of religious belief. , £ , mpmistrv and thence travelled to Venice, with the two
A few Dutch trader^appear to have been the first who ^ y,^ hi h_chancellor of Poland; after which, taking
established themselves in Connecticut, and re through the greater part of Germany, he went to
of the settlement are still visible at Hartford In 1634, “ ^pointed physician to King John
Lords Say and Seal, who had obtained a giant of Connec . ’ j 1695 j visited England, and read a course
ticut, sent over a small number of men who concluded a Sobiesk..^ In he’tlien became mem-
treaty with the natives for the lands on the river. In Roval Society and College of Physicians; and
the adventurers purchased the right of the colony for ^^/Scl to Cambridge, he read public
L.1600. Connecticut and New Haven continued two dis- after a U and made various experiments in
tinct governments for many years ; but the royal charter, ‘ He was tbe author of a philosophical and me-
which was obtained from Charles II., amongst other pro- a *- • Latin entitled Evangelium Medici, or the
visions, constituted the two colonies one body corporate is to explain the
and politic, which they have ever since remained. 1 his b clnJist as physical events, upon the
charter was framed in the most liberal spirit, and the • • ]ePof natural philosophy. He also wrote a history
civil rights granted are nearly the same as those whic P P , [Ued ^ 1593 at the age of thirty-two.
the state enjoys at present. Ihe revolution, which so sen- ’ ‘ ■ Geometry, a solid body generated by the
sihlv affected the government of most of the other colonies, CONOID, in ueomeay, sm j b
produced no great alteration in that of Connecticut This revoUtmnot a "fj and admiral,
state presents perhaps the most perfect specimen of a 1 - ^9 hed ^ rg before Christ, (See the article At-
pubhc to be found in the world. oci nno • iRin tica > After his defeat by Lysander, he fled to Evago-
The population in 1800 amounted to 251,002, in 1810 7 , .1 . himself under the pro¬
to 261,942/ in 1820 to 275,248, and in 1830 to 297,711. army
According to a recent account, Connecticut contains4].,416 tection of A t . - g
CON
s he delivered Athens from the oppression of strangers, and
rebuilt it walls. In the 360th year of Rome, he defeated
1- the Lacedaemonians in a naval encounter near Cnidus,
upon the coast of Asia; deprived them of the empire
J which they had exercised over sea, ever since the taking
of Athens; and gained other considerable advantages over
them; but having fallen into the hands of Teribazus, a
Persian, who envied his glory and dreaded his prowess,
he was cruelly put to death.
CONOPS, in Zoology, a genus of insects belonging to
the order diptera. See Entomology, Index.
CONOVIUM, in Ancient Geography, a town of the Or-
dovices, in Britain. From its ruins arose, at the distance
of four miles, Aberconway, at the mouth of the Conway, in
Caernarvonshire; and on the spot where Conovium stood
is an hamlet, called Caerhaen, or the old town. See
Cambden.
CONRAD, the second of that name, was elected Em¬
peror of Germany in 1004. He was obliged to take the
field against the German dukes who had revolted against
him; and he put Ernest, duke of Suabia, under the ban of
the empire. As this is one of the earliest instances of
such a proscription, the formula is inserted here on ac¬
count of its singularity. “ We declare thy wife a widow,
thy children orphans; and we send thee, in the name of
the devil, to the four corners of the world.” It was du¬
ring the reign of this prince that the German fiefs became
hereditary. He died in 1039.
Conrad, the third of the name, was Emperor of Ger¬
many in 1138. The Duke of Bavaria having opposed his
election, was put under the ban of the empire, and de¬
prived of his duchy, a disgrace which he could not sur¬
vive. The Margrave of Austria was ordered by the em¬
peror to take possession of Bavaria; but Welst, uncle of
the deceased duke, attacked him, and was defeated near
the castle of Winsburg. The battle fought upon this
occasion is famous in history, as having given rise to the
party names of Guelfs and Ghibbelines, afterwards assumed
in Italy. The parole of the day with the Bavarians was
Wdsti, from the name of their general; that of the Im¬
perialists Werblingen, from a small village where Frede¬
rick, duke of Suabia, their commander, had been nursed:
and by degrees these names served to distinguish the two
parties; the Italians, who could not accustom themselves
to such rough words, having formed from them their
Guelfs and Ghibbelines. Conrad died in 1152.
Conrad of Lichtenau, or Abbas Uspergensis, was au¬
thor of a chronology from the creation till 1229, conti¬
nued by an anonymous writer till the reign of Charles V.
He collected a fine library, and died about the year 1240.
CONRADIN, or Conrad, junior, son of Conrad the
fourth of that name, was acknowledged as emperor by the
Ghibbelines, who received him in triumph at Rome; but
Pope Alexander IV. had published a crusade against this
orphan ; and Urban VII. his successor, gave the empire to
Charles of Anjou, brother of Louis IX. king of France.
I he unfortunate youth, though powerfully supported even
by the Turks, lost a battle, in which he was taken prisoner,
and in 1229 he was publicly beheaded at Naples, by order
of his base opponent, in the eighteenth year of his age. In
him ended the race of the dukes of Suabia, which had pro¬
duced several kings and emperors.
CONSANGUINITY, or Kindred, is defined by the
writers on this subject to be vinculum personarum ab eo-
dem stipite descendentium, that is, the connection or rela¬
tion of persons descended from the same stock or common
ancestor. This consanguinity is either lineal or collateral.
! Lineal consanguinity is that which subsists between per¬
sons of whom one is descended in a direct line from the
other. It falls strictly within the definition of vinculum
VOL. VII.
CON 265
personarum ab eodem stipite descendentium; since lineal Conscript
ie auons are such as descend one from the other, and both ||
ot course from the same Common ancestors. Consentes.
Collateral kindred answers to the same description ;
collateral re ations agreeing with the lineal in this, that
they descend from the same stock or ancestor, but dilfer-
ing in this, that they do not descend the one from the
other. Collateral kinsmen, then, are such as lineally
spring from one and the same ancestor, who is the stirps,
or root, as well as the stipes, trunk, or common stock whence
these relations branch out.
CONSCIENCE, or the Moral Faculty. See Mo¬
ral Philosophy.
CONSCIOUSNESS, or the Mind’s Perception of
its own Thoughts. See Metaphysics.
CONSCRIPT, in Roman Antiquity, an appellation
given to the senators of Rome, who were called conscript
fathers, on account of their names being all entered in one
register, called the censors’ roll.
CONSECRATION, the act of devoting any thing to
the service and worship of God. The Mosaic law ordain¬
ed, that all the first-born, both of man and beast, should
be sanctified or consecrated to God. We find also that
Joshua consecrated the Gibeonites, as Solomon and David
did the Nethinims, to the service of the temple; and that
the Hebrews sometimes consecrated their fields and cattle
to the Lord, after which they were no longer in their
own power.
Among the ancient Christians, the consecration of
churches was performed with much pious solemnity. But
in what manner it was performed for the first three ages, is
uncertain, as the authentic accounts reach no higher than
the fourth century, when, in the peaceable reign of Constan¬
tine, churches were everywhere built, and dedicated with
great solemnity. Some think that the consecration con¬
sisted in setting up the sign of the cross, or in placing a
communion table in the church ; whilst others, again, are
of opinion that no more was done than preaching a pane¬
gyrical sermon in commemoration of the founder, and
that then they proceeded to prayers, one of which wras
composed on purpose for the church to be consecrated.
In England churches have always been consecrated
with particular ceremonies, the form of which is left in a
great measure to the discretion of the bishop.
Consecration is particularly used for the benediction
of the elements in the eucharist.
Consecration, among medalists, is the ceremony of
the apotheosis of an emperor, or his translation into hea¬
ven and reception among the gods. Upon medals the con¬
secration is thus represented: On one side is the empe¬
ror’s head, crowned with laurel, sometimes veiled, while
the inscription gives him the title of divus; on the re¬
verse is a temple, a bustum, an altar, or an eagle taking
its flight towards heaven, either from off the altar, or from
a cippus; whilst, at other times, the emperor is seen in
the air, borne up by the eagle, the inscription being al¬
ways consecratio. These are the usual symbols; yet on
the reverse of that of Antoninus is the Antonine column.
In the apotheosis of empresses, instead of an eagle there
is a peacock. The honours rendered to these princes
after death were explained by the words consecratio, pater,
divus, and deus. Sometimes around the temple or altar
are put the words memoria felix, or memories ceternce, and
for princesses, ceternitas and sideribus recepta ; whilst on
the one side of the head is dea, or Sjm.
CONSENTES, the name which the Romans gave to
the twelve superior gods, the DU majorum gentium. The
word has the same signification as consentientes, and indi¬
cates the gods who consented to the deliberations of Ju¬
piter’s council. These were twelve in number, and their
2 L
266
CON
Conse- names have been briefly expressed by Ennius in these vvell-
<juence known lines :—
li Juno, Vesta, Minerva, Ceres, Diana, Venus, Mars,
Consistory. Mercurius, Jovi, Neptunus, Vulcanus, Apollo.
CONSEQUENCE, in Logic, the conclusion, or that
which results from the premises. The consequence is the
proposition by which the extremes or premises of a syl¬
logism are joined or separated, and is deduced from what
was asserted in the premises. This word, in a more re¬
stricted sense, is used for the relation or connection be¬
tween two propositions, one of which is inferred from the
^CONSERVATOR, an officer appointed for the secu¬
rity and preservation of the privileges of some cities and
communities, and having a commission to judge of and
determine the differences among them.
Conservator of Scotch Privileges, at Campvere, was
an officer belonging to the royal burghs of Scotland, who
took care of the mercantile affairs of Scotland, agreeab y
to the staple contract between them and the states-ge-
11LCONSERVATORIOS, are Italian musical schools, esta¬
blished for the instruction of children in the profession of
music.
u&iu. . i a. •
CONSERVATORY, a term sometimes used to signify
a green-house or ice-house.
CONSISTENTES, in church history, a kind of peni¬
tents who were allowed to assist at prayers, but who were
not admitted to receive the sacrament.
CONSISTORY, a term commonly used to denote a
council-house of ecclesiastical persons, or place of justice
in the spiritual court, and also a session or assembly of
^ Consistory, at Rome, denotes the college of cardinals,
or the pope’s senate and council, before which causes are
pleaded. Du Cange derives the word from consistorium,
that is, locus uhi consistitur ; a vestibule, gallery, or anti¬
chamber, where the courtiers wait for admission, and so
called a consistente multitudine.
The consistory is the first court, or tribunal of Rome,
and never meets, except when the pope chuses to con¬
voke it. The pope presides in it in person, mounted on a
magnificent throne, and habited in his pontifical robes;
whilst on the right are the cardinal-bishops and priests, and
on the left the cardinal-deacons. rlhe place where it is
held is a large hall in the apostolical palace, where prin¬
ces and ambassadors of kings are received.^ The rest of
the prelates, the prothonotaries, auditors of the rota, and
other officers, are seated on the steps of the throne ; whilst
the courtiers sit on the ground, ambassadors on the right,
and consistorial and fiscal advocates behind the cardinals.
Besides the public, there is also a private consistory,
held in a retired chamber, and called the chamber of pape-
gay, where the pope’s throne is only raised two steps high.
Nobody is admitted except the cardinals, whose opinions
are collected, and called sentences. Here are first proposed
and passed all bulls for bishoprics, abbeys, and the like;
and hence bishoprics and abbeys are said to be consisto¬
rial benefices, because they must be proposed in the con¬
sistory, the annates paid to the pope, and his bulls taken.
Anciently they were elective ; but by the concordat, which
abolishes elections, they are appointed to be collated by
the pope alone, on the nomination of the prince.
Consistory is also used in the reformed church to sig¬
nify a council or assembly of ministers and elders, con¬
vened in order to regulate matters of discipline, and other
church affairs.
Consistory, or Court Christian, in the English law, is
a council of ecclesiastical persons, or the place ol justice
in an ecclesiastical or spiritual court. Every archbishop
CON
and bishop has a consistorial court, which is held before hisConso-
chancellor or commissary, either in his cathedral, or in |
some chapel, aisle, or portico, belonging thereto, or in someth
other convenient.place of his diocese, foi the tiial of ec-
clesiastical causes.
CONSONANT, a letter which cannot be sounded with-
out the help of a vowel placed before or after it; as b, c,
d,f m, &c. .
CONSPIRACY, in Laiv, signifies an agreement be¬
tween two or more persons falsely to indict, or procure to
be indicted, an innocent person, of felony.
CONSPIRATORS are by statute defined to be such
as bind themselves by oath, covenant, or otner alliance, to
assist one another falsely and maliciously to indict per¬
sons, or falsely to maintain pleas.
Conspirators in treason, are those who plot against the
king and the government. . ^
CONSTABLE, according to some, is a Saxon word,
compounded of honing, king, and staple, which signifies
stay or support. But as we borrowed the name as well as
the office of constable from the French, Sir William Black-
stone is rather inclined to deduce it, with Sir Henry
Spelman and Dr Cowel, from that language, in which it is
plainly derived from the Latin comes stabuli, an officer well
known in the empire, and so called because, like the great
constable of France, as well as the lord high constable of
England, he had to regulate all matters of chivalry, tilts,
tournaments, and feats of arms, which weie performed on
horseback. _ , T. . ,
The Lord High Constable of England is the seventh
great officer of the crown; and he, with the earl marshal
of England, were formerly judges in the court of chivalry,
called in the time of Henry IV. curia militans. This
court is the fountain of the martial law, and was anciently
held in the king’s hall. The power of the lord high con¬
stable was formerly so great, and so impropei a use was
made of it, that, as early as the thirteenth of Richard II.
a statute was passed for regulating and abridging it, as well
as that of the earl marshal of England ; and by this statute
no plea could be tried by them or their courts, winch
was triable by the common law of the realm. The office
of constable 'existed before the Conquest. After that
event, the office became heritable, and, by the tenuie of
the manors of Harlefield, Newman, and Whitenhurst, in
Gloucestershire, was held by grand serjeanty in the family
of the Bohuns, earls of Hereford and Essex, and after¬
wards in the line of Stafford, as heirs-general to that race;
but in 1521, the office became forfeited to the king, in the
person of Edward Stafford, duke of Buckingham, who in
that year was attainted of high treason; and in consider¬
ation of its extensive power, dignity, and large authority,
both in time of war and peace, it has never been granted
to any person, otherwise than pro hac vice, to attend at a
coronation or trial by combat. In France the same office
was also suppressed about a century afterwards, by an
edict of Louis XIII. _ , '. ?
The Lord High Constable of Scotland is an officer ot
great antiquity and dignity. The first upon record is
Hugo de Morvelle, in the reign of David I. He had two
great prerogatives; first, the keeping of the king s sword,
which the king, when he swore fealty, delivered to nm
naked, and hence the badge of the constable is a nake
sword ; secondly, the absolute and unlimited command ot
the king’s armies while in the field, in the absence o
king; a command, however, which did not extend to ca -
tles and garrisons. He was likewise judge of all crime
committed within two leagues of the king s house, wlncn
precinct was called the Chalmer of Peace; though his ju¬
risdiction came latterly to be exercised only as tocnm
committed during the sitting of parliament, which some.
CON
e. however, extended to all general conventions. This office
p was conferred heritably upon the noble family of Errol, by
King Robert Bruce ; and with them it still remains, being
expressly reserved by the treaty of union.
Inferior Constables. From the great office of high
constable is derived that inferior order, since called the
constables of hundreds and franchises. These were first in¬
stituted in the thirteenth year of Edward I. by the statute
of Winchester, which, for the conservation of the peace,
and view of armour, appointed two constables to be cho¬
sen in every hundred and franchise. They are what we
now call constabulariicapitales, or high constables; because,
from length of time and increase of people, others of like
nature, but inferior authority, have been appointed in
every town, called petty constables, or sub-constabularii,
who were first instituted about the reign of Edward III.
In Scotland constables are the officers of the justices of
the peace, intrusted with the execution of their warrants,
decrees, and orders. They are appointed by the justices
at their quarter-sessions, and in royal burghs by the ma¬
gistrates. It is the duty of constables, without any spe¬
cial warrant, to apprehend offenders against the peace,
vagrants, and such as can give no account of themselves,
and to take them to the next justice. It is also their duty
to suppress riots, and apprehend the rioters ; but after the
riot is over a constable is not authorized to seize brevi
manu any person concerned in it unless some one has
been dangerously wounded in the affray.
CONSTABLE, Archibald, a very eminent bookseller
and publisher, whose name, in the latter capacity, is con¬
nected with some of the most important and memorable
productions of the Scottish Press, and is, besides, parti¬
cularly deserving of notice in the present work, was born
on the 24th February 1774, at Kellie, in the parish of Cam-
bee, in Fifeshire. He was the son of Thomas Constable,
a person of considerable sagacity in rural affairs, who of¬
ficiated as overseer or land-steward on the estate of the
Earl of Kellie. The first thirteen or fourteen years of
his life were passed under his father’s Voof; and his edu¬
cation was such as the school of Carnbee then afforded,
consisting of a course of reading in the vernacular tongue,
writing, arithmetic, and some lessons in trigonometry.
Beyond this humble curriculum we rather think that his
subsequent acquisitions of the elements of knowledge did
not much extend. After taking up his residence in Edin¬
burgh, he may, however, have procured, though we do
not know that he did so, some private instruction in other
branches; but he never attained to any proficiency in aca¬
demical learning—a defect which his native talents and
address enabled him both to surmount and to conceal; for
he was never very fond of avowing the want of that scholar¬
ship which, it must be allowed, was but seldom discernible
I either in his conversation or his correspondence.
In 1788, Mr Constable became an apprentice to Mr
Peter Hill, bookseller in Edinburgh, and he seems to have
devoted himself, during the period of his apprenticeship,
to the acquisition of that knowledge of the early and rare
productions of the Scottish press, and generally of all pub¬
lications relating to the history'-, antiquities, and literature
of Scotland, for which he continued to retain a strong
relish throughout his subsequent career. About the pe¬
riod of the expiration of his apprenticeship, he married
the daughter of Mr Willison, a respectable printer; and
having established himself as a bookseller in a small shop
in the High Street, afterwards rendered conspicuous by
his celebrity as a publisher, he issued, in November 1795,
the first of those Sale Catalogues of curious and rare books,
which he continued for a few years to publish at intervals,
and which drew to his shop all the bibliographers and lovers
of learning in this city. His congenial curiosity, his quick
CON 267
intelligence, and the blandness of his manners, made it the Constable,
avounte haunt, as well of those who had already earned
a name’ in letters, as of those younger aspirants after dis¬
tinction who were then only commencing their literary
career. We have known more than one instance where
Ins obliging and prompt endeavours to aid them in procur¬
ing books not easily found, laid the foundation of literary
connections which ended only with his life.
From his fiist outset in business, Mr Constable had en¬
gaged in some small publications; afterwards succeeded
by others which he thought, at the time, by no means in¬
considerable—such as Campbell’s “ History of Scottish
Poetry,” Dalzell’s “ Fragments of Scottish History,” and
Leyden’s edition of the “ Complaint of Scotland.” In
the year 1801 be became the proprietor of two periodical
works, one of which, the “Farmer’s Magazine,” then of re¬
cent origin, acquired under his management, and for some
time maintained, a considerable circulation; the other, the
“ Scots Magazine,’ a miscellany which commenced in
1739, and was still esteemed as a curious repository^ of in¬
formation regarding the history, antiquities, and traditions
of Scotland. This congenial publication engaged at first a
considerable share of his attention and solicitude; and the
genius and erudition of Dr John Leyden, and the Reve¬
rend Dr Alexander Murray, whom he employed succes¬
sively as its editors, contributed not a little to enhance its
reputation, and to raise it into some importance as a criti¬
cal journal, in that comparatively easy period of periodi¬
cal literature.
But a brighter day was soon to dawn; and its genial
influences were not lost on a mind that ever had been
disposed to exercise its powers in the formation and en¬
couragement of literary projects. The first number of
the Edinburgh Review w'as published by Mr Constable
in October 1802; and from that moment his fame as a
publisher commenced, and continued to increase, till it
surpassed that of even the most distinguished publishers
of the metropolis. He was not, however, as has some¬
times been supposed, the projector of this celebrated jour¬
nal. It owed its origin to those whose genius and ta¬
lents raised it to that pitch of glory, hitherto unprece¬
dented, which it almost at once attained ; and we believe
he was at first rather startled by the mention of the
design, and not in the least prepared, any more than its
projectors themselves were, to anticipate the splendid
success which awaited it. Without a publisher, in this
place, of his cast of mind, the work, however, might have
encountered some difficulties; and he was not slow to
perceive, nor backward to follow, that line of conduct
towards its conductors, without the observance of which,
the new relations between them could not long have been
harmoniously maintained. The present highly respectable
proprietors of the work became, some years after its com¬
mencement, sharers of the property; but the publishing
department remained, we believe, under his direction. In
1805, he added to the list of his periodical publications
the Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal; a work pro¬
jected in concert with the late Dr Andrew Duncan, and
which still maintains its pristine respectability.
Sir Walter Scott, whilst yet “ unknown to fame,” had
been a frequenter of Mr Constable’s shop; and from it
was published, in the year just mentioned, the “ Lay of the
Last Minstrel,”—the first of that series of romantic poems
in which the plastic genius of their author imparted so
new, so rich, and so glowing an interest to the legendary
lore, and to the very hills and dales, of his native land.
Mr Constable’s reputation and business as a publisher were
greatly enhanced and extended by means ot these brilliant
and popular productions. He “pursued the triumph, and
partook the galebut still more after he had the good
268
Constable.
CON
CON
fortune, by publishing “ Waverley,” to make the world
acquainted with those powers for the composition of his¬
torical and romantic novels and tales with which its au¬
thor continued for so many years to astonish and delight
the whole of Europe. Mr Constable had the merit of
suggesting subjects, and of finding titles, for more than
one of those memorable works. Such, for example, was
the case, as the author himself has told us, with regard to
*• Rob Roy.” In the same year that “ Waverley’ appear¬
ed, namely, 1814, he also published Sir Walter Scott sedi¬
tion of “ Swift’s Works.”
We do not think it necessary to specify all the numerous
works which Mr Constable undertook, or in which he
was professionally concerned ; but it would be unpardon¬
able not to mention particularly, that in 1812 he was
enabled to gratify a wish he had long entertained, by the
purchase of the copyright and stock of this Encyclopae¬
dia. The acquisition proved equally beneficial to his bu¬
siness and to the cause of knowledge. It is, indeed, but
common justice to say, that his ambition to possess what
he considered as a national work, was fully justified by the
measures he took, and the means he liberally providea, to
elevate its character and to extend its usefulness. Of
the Supplement to its later editions, which he projected,
we shall only observe, that its success equalled his own
expectations, and far exceeded those of many others not
so capable of forming extensive views as to the best means
of insuring success in such undertakings. / _ ...
Having brought this little narrative to a period which,
if we add the writings of Mr Dugald Stewart, has enabled
us to allude to Mr Constable’s principal publications, we
shall now hasten to close it. W e must not, however,
omit to mention his own contributions, though not very
important, to the stock of Scottish historical literatuie.
In 1810 he published, from an original manuscript, a
quarto volume, edited by himself, entitled the “ ^iro‘
nicle of Fife, being the Diary of John Lamont of New¬
ton, from 1649 to 1672;” and in 1822 he drew up and
published a “ Memoir of George Heriot, Jeweller to
King James, containing an Account of the Hospital
founded by him at Edinburgh.” This small volume was
suggested by the honourable mention of Heriot, and his
noble endowment, in the “ Fortunes of Nigel,” published
during the spring of that year. . ,
In the autumn of the preceding year, Mr Constable had
gone to reside in the neighbourhood of London, having
been advised, owing to a severe attack of illness, to pass
the winter in a milder climate. I his absence, and its
cause, are alluded to by bir Walter bcott, in teims of re¬
gret, in the Introductory Epistle to the “ tortunes of
Nigel.” Here, speaking in the person of Captain Clut-
terbuck, he says, 4< I entered the shop at the Cross to in¬
quire after the health of my worthy triend, and learned
with satisfaction that his residence in the south had abated
the rigour of the symptoms of his disorder.” Here also
there is an encomium on Mr Constable, which it would be
unfair alike to the generous spirit of its illustrious author,
and the merits of its object, not to recall in this sketch.
He is commended as one “ whose vigorous intellect and
liberal ideas had not only rendered his native country the
mart of her own literature, but established there a court
of letters, which commanded respect even from those most
inclined to dissent from many of its canons. The effect
of these changes,” it is added, “ operated in a great mea¬
sure by the strong sense and sagacious calculations of an
individual, who knew how to avail himself, to an unhoped
for extent, of the various kinds of talent which his countiy
produced, will probably appear more clearly to the genera¬
tion which shall follow the present.
In the summer of 1822, Mr Constable returned from
England; and in the following year he removed his es-Con^
a.~1 #■ IWvrvi fVio nr^mifips fit tllP f!rnSS. SO PTflnhL ^
tablishment from the premises at the Cross, so graphi-
cally and correctly described in the above Epistle, and
where all his fame had been acquired, to more spaci¬
ous and splendid accommodations in the modern part of
the city. In no long time after this change, namely,
about the commencement of 1826, the world was sur-
prised by the unwelcome and lamentable announcement
of the bankruptcy of his house. Such a close to a career
as a publisher so splendid, and apparently so prosper-
ous, was not a little calculated to create doubts both as
to his hitherto unquestioned skill in his profession, and
the success of even his most noted undertakings. Many
were inclined to think, in the words of the proverb, that
there had been “ more cry than wool.” But though it
would be too much to say that all his schemes were wise,
or all his actions prudent, there can be no doubt either of
his eminent skill or of his success. His failure, we believe,
was mainly owing to his original want of capital, and to
his having early settled with a retiring partner, upon a
principle of adjustment dictated by a too overweening
view of his own prosperity. The progressively augment¬
ing contractions, and the wasteful sacrifices, resulting from
these causes, absorbed the profits of his best enterprises,
and led too certainly to an issue which yet to many appear¬
ed unaccountable. His misfortunes overtook him busied
as usual with literary projects, particularly with that of
the “ Miscellany,” afterwards published under his name;
—the precursor of that multitude of devices for cheapen¬
ing knowledge which form so remarkable a feature of the
current literature of these times. This was his last pro¬
ject. The disease that formerly afflicted him returned,
with increased severity, in 1827, and at length proved fa¬
tal on Saturday the 21st of July in that year.
We shall here insert, though at the cost of some repe¬
tition, the greater part of a tribute to his memory, which
appeared in the newspapers of this city two clays after
his death, and which was written, by one who had been
intimately acquainted with him in his publishing capa-
city*
46 We are concerned to learn that Mr Constable, our late
eminent publisher, who had for some time suffered se¬
verely under a dropsical complaint, expired suddenly, at
his house in Park Place, on the afternoon of Saturday.
This event has, we confess, excited in our minds a train
of melancholy recollections and regrets; and we cannot
refrain from thus publicly expressing our respect for the
memory of a man, who, notwithstanding the disastrous
termination of his professional career, must long be remem¬
bered as a liberal friend of literary merit, and active pro¬
moter of those literary enterprises which, during the last
twenty-five years, have redounded so much to the advan¬
tage and fame of this city. We do not scruple to say, that
we have nationality enough to have derived a lively satis¬
faction from seeing it become an object of desire among
the literati of the south to contribute to its literary under¬
takings, and to resort to it as an advantageous mart of
publication ; and, convinced as we are, that this was m
no small degree owing to the liberal views, the profession¬
al talents, activity, and address of Mr Constable—con¬
vinced, moreover, that the opinion of the public of this
place is, in this respect, in unison with our own—we feel
assured that, in offering to his memory this mournful tri¬
bute of our private regard and respect, we at the same
time give utterance to feelings strongly felt by the com
munity at large. It is now somewhat more than t ir y^
years since Mr Constable began to attract the notice ot
the learned of this city by his knowledge of rare books,
particularly of those connected with the early hteratur
of Scotland; and several years before his name became
*
CON
onstjte. known to the world as a considerable publisher, he bad
^ ^ succeeded, as well by the amenity of his manners as by
” his professional intelligence and activity, in rendering bis
shop the favourite resort of all the more curious and aspir¬
ing spirits of the place. His views, however, were never
limited to the collection of literary rarities, or to a mer¬
chandise confined to the existing materials of literature.
He had always longed to become instrumental in adding
something of importance to the stock of knowledge, and
to enrol his name in the list of the more liberal and enter¬
prising publishers of the day. Edinburgh fortunately pos¬
sessed the means of gratifying this laudable ambition ; and
he as fortunately appeared at a period when, without such
a man, her native genius might have been hampered in
its flights, or damped and circumscribed in the ardour and
range of its aspiring exertions. His fame as a publisher
commenced with the appearance of the Edinburgh Re¬
view, which he had the honour of ushering into the world ;
and he long ministered to its success and its glory by a
deportment towards its conductors and authors as discreet
and respectful as it was manly and liberal. Some years
after the first appearance of this celebrated journal, he
became the proprietor of the Encyclopaedia Britannica,
for which he paid a price that excited the surprise of
some of the more timid of his brethren, but which was
amply warranted by the measures and results his supe¬
rior intelligence and sagacity had enabled him to plan
and foresee. When that work became the property of
his house, the printing of its fifth edition was too far ad¬
vanced to admit of any material improvements ; but Mr
Constable saw very clearly that these were largely requir¬
ed in order to place it on a level with the knowledge, the
wants, and the spirit of the age; and he accordingly devised
the project of that Supplement which has added so much
to the value and celebrity of the work to which it was ap¬
pended, and to the public stock of useful knowledge and
varied learning. Many doubts as to the expediency of a
supplemental publication upon so extensive a scale, were,
we believe, expressed by those who pretended to experi¬
ence and skill in such undertakings; but Mr Constable’s
anticipations were fully realised by the signal success of
this favourite design; and we have always understood that
those highly liberal arrangements by which he endeavour¬
ed to provide for its usefulness and reputation, and with¬
out which the success attending it never could have been
achieved, were entirely the result of his own suggestions,
and the dictation of his own understanding. During the
progress of those works, his house was still farther aggran¬
dised by the publication of the writings of Mr Dugald
Stewart and Sir Walter Scott; the one bearing the most
illustrious name in the serious, the other in the lighter,
branches pf our national literature. His intercourse with
j the latter was much more intimate, varied, and extensive,
and in many respects more remarkable, than was ever be¬
fore exemplified between author and publisher. The pub¬
lication, first of the highly popular poems, and latterly of
the still more popular novels, of that extraordinary genius,
raised his house to the acme of its fame; and contributed
still more largely, perhaps, than any other of the connec¬
tions that have been mentioned, to that celebrity as a pub¬
lishing establishment which it so long enjoyed.”
“ \Ve have here only detailed a few particulars, calculat¬
ed to justify the sentiments of grateful respect which we
entertain for the memory of Mr Constable, as by far the
most eminent publisher that Scotland ever produced. In
that line we certainly do not expect soon again to see a
man joining such professional abilities to such liberal and
extensive views; so capable of appreciating literary merit,
and so anxious to find for it employment and reward; so
largeJy endowed with the discernment, tact, and manners
CON
269
necessary to maintain a useful, honourable, and harmoni- Constance
ous intercourse with literary men.” instance
We have but little to add to the foregoing details. Mr Constan-
Constable was twice married, and left several children, tina> .
by bo h his marriages. His frame was bulky and cor-
pulent; but his countenance was remarkably pleasing
and intelligent The late Sir Henry Raeburn’s portrait of
him is one of the most successful likenesses and best pie^
tures of that excellent artist. His manner and conversa¬
tion were by no means those of an ordinary man ; and his
general conduct was affable, good humoured, and friendly.
It must, however, be allowed, that he was liable to pas¬
sionate impulses, which sometimes mastered his better
powers, and vented themselves in expressions neither de¬
corous nor justifiable. But his strong sense and kindly
feelings seldom failed to restore him quickly to propriety.
It may, in a vvord, be truly said of him as Dr Johnson
said of Cave, the publisher of the Gentleman’s Magazine,
“ that such he was as they who best knew him have most
lamented.”
CONSTANCE, a city of the grand duchy of Baden,
on the north-west end of the lake of that name or the
Bodensee, near to where the Rhine issues forth. It is a
walled town, the chief place of the district, but with very
little commerce of any kind. It contains 778 houses and
4503 inhabitants. This place is celebrated on account of
the ecclesiastical council held here in 1417, at which John
Huss and Jerome of Prague were condemned to death.
The lake from which this city takes its name, and which
divides the Wirtemburg and Baden dominions from the
Swiss cantons, is thirty-six miles in length and twelve in
breadth. The depth varies from 100 to 350 fathoms. It
was formerly more abundantly stocked with fish than it is
at present; but the trouts caught in it are prized above all
others. The city is in long. 9.2. 55. E. and lat. 47. 36.10. N.
CONSIANC\, in a general sense, denotes immutabili¬
ty, invariableness, or uniformity. In ethics, or wrhen ap¬
plied to the human mind, the term implies resolution or
steadiness, particularly under the sufferings and trials of
adversity.
CONSTANTIA, a district at the Cape of Good Hope,
consisting of two farms, which produce the wine known
by the name of Cape or Constantia wine. This place is
situated at the distance of a mile and a half from Alphen,
in a bending or incurvation, formed by and nearly under
the ridge of hills wdiich runs from Meuisen-mountain, and
just where it strikes off towards Houtbay. One of these
farms is called Little Constantia. Here the white Con¬
stantia wine is made. The other produces the red.
CONSTANTINA, a province of Algiers, in the eastern
or Levantine government. It is bounded on the east by
Tunis, on the west by Tittery or Algiers Proper, on the
south by the desert, and on the north by the Mediterra¬
nean. It is upwards of 230 miles in length and 100 in
breadth. It is the most fertile, and every way the most
improved, portion of Algiers. Its coast is the portion of
Barbary with which Europeans have chiefly maintained
a commercial intercourse.
Constantina, a large city of Algiers, the capital of
the above province. It occupies the site of Cirta, cele¬
brated as the ancient bulwark of Numidia. It is built upon
an elevated rock, formed into a species of peninsula by
the Rummel, which surrounds it on all sides, except a
narrow neck of land to the south-west. The ancient city
extended to a considerable distance along a valley beyond
the rocky promontory, and many beautiful specimens of
its former grandeur and strength remain, among which are
aqueducts, gates, arches, pillars, and other architectural
fragments of antiquity. The modern city is of less extent,
and exhibits nothing remarkable. It is defended by strong
\
1
CON
CON
walls, which add to the natural strength of its situation.
The surrounding country is very beautiful and fertile.
Constantina contains about 30,000 inhabitants. Long. 6.
24, E. Lat. 36. 25. N. . . ^ .
Constantina, a town of Andalusia, in bpain, in the
province of Seville, on the borders of Cordova. It is si¬
tuated in the southera part of the Sierra Morena, in the
mining district, where silver mines are now worked, though
to little profit. The vicinity is well covered with cork
trees and large oaks.
CONSTANTINE the Great, the first emperor of the
Romans who embraced Christianity. His father, Constan¬
tins Chlorus, rendered himself famous by his expeditions
into Germany and Britain; and upon the abdication o
Diocletian in 305, he shared the Roman empire with Ga¬
lenas Maximinus, and was at that time at York, where he
died in 306, having first caused his son Constantine the
Great to be proclaimed emperor by his army and by the
Britons. Galerius at first refused to admit Constantine to his
father’s share in the imperial throne ; but after having los
several battles, he consented in the year 308. Maxentius,
who succeeded Galerius, opposed him, but was defeated,
and drowned in the Tiber. The senate then declared Con¬
stantine chief or first Augustus, and Licimus his second
associate in the empire. This occurred in the year 312.
These princes published an edict, in their joint names, in
favour of the Christians ; but soon afterwards Licimus, jea¬
lous of the renown of Constantine, conceived an implacable
hatred against him, and renewed the persecutions against
the Christians. This brought on a rupture between the em¬
perors, and a battle ensued, in which Constantine proved
victorious. A short peace followed ; but Licinius having
shamefully violated the treaty, the war was renewed, when
Constantine totally defeated him, and forced him to fly to
Nicomedia, where he was taken prisoner and strangled, m
the year 323. Constantine having now become sole master of
the western and eastern empires, immediately foimed the
plan of establishing Christianity as the religion of the state ;
and for this purpose he convoked several ecclesiastical
councils ; but finding that he was likely to meet with great
opposition from the Pagan interest at Rome, he conceived
the design of founding a new city, as the capital of his
Christian empire. (See Constantinople.) The glory
which Constantine had acquired by establishing the Chris¬
tian religion was tarnished by the part he took in the per¬
secutions which were, towards the close of his reign, car¬
ried on by the Arians against their Christian brethren
who differed from them ; and, seduced by Eusebius of Ni¬
comedia, he banished several eminent prelates, soon after
which he died in the sixty-sixth year of his age and thirty-
first of his reign. . .
As to the character of Constantine, he was chaste, pious,
laborious, and indefatigable ; a great and successful com¬
mander, and deserving his success by his shining valour
and superior genius; and a protector of arts, which he
encouraged by his beneficence. If we compare him with
Augustus, we shall find that he overthrew idolatry by the
same precautions and the same address which the other
used to destroy liberty. Like Augustus, he laid the foun¬
dation of a new empire; but being possessed of less poli¬
tical skill, he failed to give it equal stability. He weakened
the body of the state by adding to it, in some measure,
a second head in the foundation of Constantinople ; and by
transporting the centre of motion and strength too near
to the eastern extremity, he left without vigour, and al¬
most without life, the western parts, which soon became
a prey to the barbarians. The Pagans were too much
his enemies to do him justice. Eutropius says, that in the
earlier part of his reign he was equal to the most accom¬
plished princes, and that, in the latter, he fell below the
meanest. The younger Victor pretends, that in the first Con*
ten vears he was a hero, in the succeeding twelve a rob- '■
ber/and in the last ten a spendthrift. But it is easy I
to perceive, with respect to the reproaches imputed to tori^
him by Victor, that the one relates to the riches which ^
Constantine took from idolatry, and the other to those
with which he loaded the church.
Constantine, emperor of the East in 912, left the care
of the empire to his wife Helena, who oppressed the
people with taxes, and sold all the offices in church and
state to the highest bidders; whilst the emperor employed
himself in reading, writing, and the fine arts, till he be¬
came as good an architect and painter as he was a bad
prince. He wrote several biographical and geographical
works, which would have done honour to his name if he
had not neglected his duties to compose them. He died in
959.
Constantine, Dracoses, the son of Emmanuel Palaeo-
logus, was placed on the throne by Sultan Amurath in
1448. But Mahommed II., his successor, resolving to de¬
throne him, laid siege to Constantinople by sea and land,
and took it by assault in 1453, after it had held out fifty,
eight days. The unfortunate emperor seeing the Turks
einer the breaches, threw himself into the midst of the
enemy and was cut to pieces; the children of the impe¬
rial house were massacred by the soldiers; and the women
were reserved to gratify the lust of the conqueror. Thus
terminated the dynasty of the Constantines, 1123 years
after its establishment at Constantinople.
Constantine, Robert, a learned physician, born at Cean.
He taught polite literature in that city, and acquired
great reputation by his skill in the Greek language, in
history, and in medicine. He died in 1603, at the age of
a hundred and three years. He wrote a dictionary in
Greek and Latin, and other works.
Constantinograd, a circle in the Russian government
of Pultawa, to the south-east of that city. It is the east¬
ernmost part of the government, is watered by the Orel
and its tributary streams, and is a vast plain without woods,
but with rich meadows, on which large herds of black cat¬
tle are fed. The chief place, of the same name, is on the
Orel, where the Barestowja falls into that river. It was
formerly walled, but the defences are now in ruins, and the
inhabitants do.not exceed 1200. Long. 31. 35. E. Lat.
53. 12. N. ™ ,
CONSTANTINOPLE, the capital of the Turkish em¬
pire, the Byzantium of the ancients, and the Stamboul or
Itamboul of the Turks. The several branches of the go¬
vernment of the extensive dominions of the grand seignor
are concentrated in the city, which contains the chief oi
the pashas, muftis, and ulemas, the patriarch and synod ot
the Greek church, an Arminian and a Catholic archbishop,
and the ambassadors of the several kingdoms of Europe.
It is built on a peninsula projecting into the Bosphorus,
in the form of a triangle, with its base towards Europe.
On the north is an arm of the sea, which forms the haven,
and separates the city from its suburbs. The city is upon
and between seven hills, and is defended towards the land
by a triple wall, from fourteen to twenty feet high, beyond
which is a ditch of twenty-five feet in breadth ; and there
are 548 towers or other fortified points about the city.
The suburbs are more extensive than the city itself, and,
including Scutari, on the Asiatic side of the Bosphorus,
are said to be twelve miles in compass. The interior
Constantinople by no means corresponds with the on ¬
ward appearance as it is approached from the s6/1, „
most irregularly built, none of the streets are straight, icw
of them are well paved, and the houses, many
of wood, are built in a wretched style. The public P a
are few and not remarkable, except that in some of t
CON
lolls F
;ino i
wardens and pasture land are to be seen. Everywhere the
most disgusting filth is to be observed till darkness begins to
hide it, when crowds of dogs, vultures, and crows assemble
in the place, and appease their voracity by performing
the duty of scavengers. Except near the bazars and the
water, a gloomy quietness prevails.
Oneofthe most remarkable buildings is the Atmejdan or
Hippodrome, which is 500 feet in length and 300 in breadth,
and surrounded with edifices well built and extensive, es¬
pecially the mosque of Sultan Achmed. It is here that the
mock combat of throwing the djerid is practised. Some
of the mosques are large and magnificent, especially that
of Aja Sophia, which is 260 feet long and 230 broad, with
170 marble pillars, some of which are of green jasper, and
are reported to have been the supports of the temple of
Diana at Ephesus. There are several others of similar
but inferior fame. The seraglio is the chief object of cu¬
riosity in Constantinople. It stands on the eastern point
of the peninsula on which the city is built, and declines
on the northward and eastward towards the Bosphorus.
It is not a single building, but an assemblage of various
palaces, mosques, and gardens, in which are voluptuous
baths, fountains, corridors, halls, and grottos. In the outer
court is the palace of the grand vizier, the arsenal, and
the mint, which was the church in which Theodosius con¬
vened that council distinguished as the second of Constan¬
tinople. In the middle court is the divan, and there may
be seen the celebrated pillar of Theodosius the Great. In
the third or inner division of the seraglio is the especial
presence chamber, with the hall of the throne, the treasure
apartment, as well as the summer and winter harem, and
the boasted library said to contain sixteen hundred manu¬
scripts. The seraglio is in fact a city of itself, and is said
to contain upwards of 6000 inhabitants.
As the Turks do not allow a census to be taken, all
statements of the number of inhabitants in their dominions
must be doubtful and conjectural. Eton calculates the
population of Constantinople at no more than 300,000,
whilst General Andreossy, without including Scutari, cal¬
culated it at 597,600. His calculation was founded on the
daily consumption of bread. The houses, which are most¬
ly built of wood, and covered with shingles, amount to
88,100. According to Andreossy, the division of the in¬
habitants is as follows; namely, 300,000 Turks, Tartars,
and other Mussulmen ; 200,000 Greeks, 50,000 Armenians,
30,000 Jews, and the remainder of the various Frank na¬
tions. The mortality is said to be greater than in any other
city, but the recruits that arrive from all parts of the do¬
minions of Turkey, and especially the slaves brought for
sale, fill up the numbers faster than they fall away by
death.
There are several establishments for education. At the
barracks of Sudledscha is a mathematical school and print¬
ing press ; at the arsenal a geometrical and nautical school,
and there are more than a thousand elementary schools
in the different parts of the city. The academy of the
mosque ot Mahommed the Second numbers more than
four hundred students ; that of Mustapha the Third more
than five hundred, among whom are some medical pupils.
one can be admitted among the ulemas who has not
graduated at one of these establishments.
By the generosity of the pashas, the viziers, and other
wealthy persons, many charitable institutions have been
founded. Connected with most of the mosques there is an
hospital, with others a house for the reception of lunatics,
and with some a cooking institution for the poor. There
is an orphan house, a Greek and Frank hospital, and four
pest-houses for those who have the small-pox.
The trade of Constantinople consists chiefly in the sup¬
ply of the wants of the state officers, and of the military
CON 271
i^cldeflfuv fm"- Wh0 T att1racted t? the capital; but it Constan-
<> -y.n ei£Ters that the handicraft operations aretiuopolitan
performed. I he principal manufactures are of cotton and Hist°ry.
si k tjOods. Ihe Armenians are the chief jewellers and
b oVke'rr tL Jh\ Je" S T “nd
h ’ ihe.r'anks are the principal mechanics. The
chief busmess is transacted at the several bazars.
t,ade °f Constantinople is favoured by its
excellent harbour, capable of containing 1200 ships. It
is the medium ot intercourse between that part of Asia
whence laden camels arrive, and the different divisions of
Europe, collecting the drugs and silks of one, and distri¬
buting them among the others. It would require much
space-to collect and enumerate the ramifications of such
a trade as is carried on in minute articles to and from the
city of Constantinople. It is distant 1680 miles from Lon¬
don. Long. 28. 51. 53. E. Lat. 41. 1. 27. N.
CONS IANIINOPOLITAN History. Constanti¬
nople, anciently Byzantium, became the seat of empire
under Constantine the Great. Its removal to this quarter
is generally considered as having been one of the principal
causes of the sudden decline of the western empire after
this period.
In the year 332 the Sarmatians implored Constantine’s
assistance against the Goths, who had made an irruption
into their territories, and destroyed every thing by fire
and sword. The emperor readily granted their request,
and gained a complete victory. Nearly a hundred thousand
of the enemy perished, either in the battle, or after it from
hunger and cold. In consequence of this overthrow the
Goths were obliged to sue for peace; but the ungrateful
Sarmatians were no sooner delivered from their enemies
than they turned their arms against their benefactor, and
ravaged the provinces of Moesia and Thrace. The em¬
peror, having received intelligence of this treachery, re¬
turned with incredible expedition, cut great numbers of
them in pieces, and obliged the remainder to submit to
such terms as he pleased to impose.
Constantine seems to have been a prince very highly
respected, even by distant nations. In the year 333, ac¬
cording to Eusebius, ambassadors arrived at Constanti¬
nople from the Blemyes, Indians, Ethiopians, and Persians,
to solicit his friendship. They were received in a most
obliging manner; and having ascertained from the ambas¬
sadors of Sapor, king of Persia, that there were great num¬
bers of Christians in their master’s dominions, Constan¬
tine wrote a letter in their behalf to the Persian monarch.
Next year the Sarmatians being again attacked by the
Goths, found themselves obliged to set at liberty and to
arm their slaves against the assailants. By this means
they were enabled to overcome the Goths; but the vic¬
torious slaves turning their arms against their masters,
drove the latter out of the country. This misfortune
obliged them, to the number of three hundred thousand,
to apply for relief to the Roman emperor, who incorpo¬
rated with his legions such of them as were capable of
service, and gave settlements to the remainder in Thrace,
Scythia, Macedonia, and Italy. This was the last remark¬
able action of Constantine the Great. He died on 15th
May 337, after having divided the empire among his chil¬
dren and nephews. Constantine, his eldest son, obtained
Gaul, Spain, and Britain; Constantins, the second, Asia,
Syria, and Egypt; and Constans, the youngest, lllyricum,
Italy, and Africa. To his nephew Dahnatius he gave
Thrace, Macedonia, and Achaia; and to King Annibalia-
nus, his other nephew, Armenia Minor, Pontus, Cappado¬
cia, and the city of Caesarea, which he desired might be
the capital of his kingdom.
After the death of Constantine the army and senate
proclaimed his three sons emperors, without taking any
1
07‘>
Constan
tinopolitan
History.
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
notice of his two nephews, wiio were soon afterwards mur- were put to flight, and he himself killed, after having en- c„.
dered, with Julius Constantius the late emperor's brother, joyed the sovereignty only twenty-eigh days. Marcell,.t,,,
and all their friends and adherents. Thus the family of nus ordered his head to be earned on the “'nt ,, a “™ ^
Constantine was at once reduced to "is‘bree sons, and two ; anTunSer pretence "f
nephews, Gallus and Julian, the sons f ’ preventing disturbances, commanded a general massacre
and of these the former owed h,s life to a malady, from F^an' 8 . f Constantine. Soon afterwards Mag.
which no one thought he con d recover, and the latter to .rFFf came t0 Rome to raake the necessary prt
three'lwothers^ivided among thmnselveT'the dominions of parations for resisting Constantius, who was exerting him-
th^decease^princes; bTthey did no, long agree toge- self to the utmost m order to revenge the death of his brc
ther. In 340, Constantine, having in vain solicited Con-
stans to yield to him part of Italy, raised a considerable
army, and, under pretence of marching to the assistance
of his brother Constantius, who was then at w^ar with the
ther. In the city he behaved most tyrannically, putting
to death many persons of distinction in order to seize their
estates, and obliging others to contribute half of all they
were worth towards the expense of the w^ar. Having by
of his brother Constantms, w io was icn a raised a great sum, he assembled a mighty
Persians, made himself master of several places in na.y j nf Rn6mnns. Germans, Gauls, Franks, Bri-
Upon this Constans detached part of his army against
him; and Constantine, having been dravvn into an am¬
buscade near Aquileia, was cut off with his whole forces.
His body was thrown into the river Ansa; but being a -
terwards discovered, it was sent to Constantinople, and
interred there near the tomb of Constantine
army, composed of liomans, Germans, Gauls, Franks, Bri¬
tons, Spaniards, and other nations; and at the same time,
dreading the uncertain issues of war, he dispatched am¬
bassadors to Constantius wdth proposals of accommoda¬
tion. Constantius set out from Antioch about the begin¬
ning of autumn, and, passing through Constantinople,
at the same time to Constantius the sister of Magnentius.
At first the emperor would listen to no terms ; but after¬
wards, that he might not be obliged to contend with two
enemies at once, he concluded a separate treaty with Ve-
teranio, bv which he agreed to adopt him as his partner
in the empire. But when Veteranio ascended the tnbunal
along with Constantius, the soldiers pulled him down, cry-
ino- out that they would acknowledge no other emperor
than Constantius. Upon this Veteranio threw himself at
the emperor's feet and implored his mercy. Constantius
received him with great kindness, and sent him to Prusa,
in Bithynia, where he allowed him a maintenance suitable
to his quality.
Constantius, now master of Ulyricum, and of the army
commanded by Veteranio, resolved to maich without de-
By Um dJfeaTand death of his brother, Constans re- arrived at Heraclea, where he was met by deputies from
By Yie deteat arm ae of the empire, Magnentius and Veteranio, who had agreed to support
rjhe quiet polSion of which he continued till the year each other in case the emperor would hearken to no term,
TJO TTiTs year Enentius, the son of one Magnus, a The deputies of Magnentius proposed in Ins name amatch
native of Germany, finding that Constans was despised by between him and Constantin, 01 rather Constantma, the
?he army on account of his indolence and inactivity, re- sister of Constantius and widow oyAnn.bahanus, feting
solved to murder him, and set up for himself. Haying
found means to gain over to his designs the principal of¬
ficers of the army, he seized on the imperial palace at Au-
tun, distributed among the populace the sums which he
found there, and thus induced not only the city, but the
neighbouring country, to espouse his cause. Constans,
informed of what had passed, and unable to resist the
usurper, fled towards Spain. He was, however, overtaken
by Gaiso, whom Magnentins had sent after him with a
chosen body of troops, and dispatched with many wounds,
at Helena, a small village situated at the foot of the Py-
renees.
Thus Constantius acquired a right to the whole Roman
empire, though one half of it had been seized by Mag-
sians nofgave him scarcely any disturbance, the emperor eastern provinces, he married
and advanced in years when he Usurped the sovereignty, Constantius had not only stirred up th.eA^ank^ a"a • ,
but so illiterate that he then for the first time learned to to break into that province, by promising q ^
read. The third pretender was Flavius Popilius Nepotia- them all the places which t icy s mu t c q > e_
nus son of Eutropia, the sister of Constantine the Great, sent them large supplies of men an aim ^ Paul with
Having assembled a company of gladiators and men of On this encouragement tlie barbarians invaded ^^ ^Jh
desperate fortunes, this person assumed the purple on the a mighty army, overthrew Ftecen i s P . , h
3d of June 350, and in Vat attire presented himself be- committed everywhere dreadfu s’^
fore the cates of Rome. The prefect Anicetus, who com- country to a most deplorable situation. In mea t
manded there for Magnentius, sallied out against him with Magnentius havmg assembled a numerou 7’^ pann0.
a body of Romans, who, however, were soon driven back and crossing the Alps, advanced mt P • t d in
Into the city. Soon afterwards Nepotianus made himself nia, where Constantius, whose main strength con istea n
master of fhe city itself, whieh be filled with blood and eavalry, waited his approach. Magnentius^ieoimgrtat
slaughter Magnentius being informed of what had hap- his competitor had encamped at a small dista
penedTsent agaLt this new competitor his chief favourite him by a messenger to proceed to ‘^‘“7,1’ “ ;
S p line minister Marcellinui Nepotianus received Scttci* .n the &ve, .here to dectde
him with great resolution; and a bloody battle ensued the best title to the empire. Jh.s cha k„ge LouM ^
between the soldiers of Magnentius and the Romans who received with great joy; but as h s top ,
had espoused the cause of Nepotianus; but the latter wards Scisc.a m ^tith^reat slaug“te“ This sue
being betrayed by a senator named Heraclitus, his men and were put to flight with gieat siaugi
3nst r.
opol 1
jsto
CONSTANTIN OP O LI TAN HISTORY.
273
Cess so elated Magnentius that he rejected the terms of a city of great strength, of which, however, they failed to Constan-
peace which were now offered by Constantins; but after make themselves masters. At the same time the Sara-tinopolitan
some time a general engagement ensued at Mursa, in cens committed dreadful ravages in Mesopotamia; and History,
which Magnentius was entirely defeated, with the loss of the Persians also invaded the province of Anthemusia on ^
twenty-four thousand men. ^ _ the Euphrates. But the eastern provinces were not so
After his defeat at Mursa, Magnentius retired into much harassed by the barbarians as by Gallus Ceesar him-
Italy, where he recruited his shattered forces as well as self, who ought to have protected them. That prince was
he could. But in the beginning of the following year, 352, naturally of a cruel, haughty, and tyrannical disposition,
Constantius, having assembled his troops, surprised and and being elated with his successes against the Persians,
took, without the loss of a man, a strong castle on the Ju- he behaved more like a tyrant and a madman than a go-
lian Alps belonging to Magnentius. After this the empe- vernor. His natural cruelty is said to have been height-
ror advanced in order to force the remainder; upon which ened by the instigations of his wife Constantina, who is
Magnentius, struck with terror, immediately abandoned styled by Ammianus the ftlegcera. or fury of her sex; and
Aquileia, and ordered the troops who guarded the other he adds, that her ambition was equal to her cruelty. Thus
passes of the Alps to follow him. Thus Constantius having all the provinces and cities in the East were filled with
entered Italy without opposition, made himself master of blood and slaughter. No man, however innocent, could
Aquileia, and thence advanced to Pavia, where Magnen- be sure to live or enjoy his estate a whole day; for Gallus’s
tius gained a considerable advantage over him. Notwith- temper being equally suspicious and cruel, those who had
standing this loss, however, Constantius reduced the whole any private enemies took care to accuse them of crimes
country bordering on the Po, and Magnentius’s men de- against the state, and with Gallus to be accused was to
serted to him in whole troops, delivering up the places be condemned. At last the emperor being informed from
which they had garrisoned; which circumstances so dis- all quarters of the evil conduct of his brother-in-law, and
heartened the tyrant, that he left Italy, and retired with being at the same time told that he had aspired at the
all his forces into Gaul. Soon after this, Africa, Sicily,
and Spain, declared for Constantius, upon which Mag¬
nentius sent a senator, and after him some bishops, to
negotiate a peace; but the emperor treated the senator
as a spy, and sent back the bishops without any answer.
sovereignty, resolved upon his ruin. For this purpose he
wrote letters to Gallus and Constantina, inviting both of
them to repair to Italy. Though they had each sufficient
reason to dread the worst, yet they durst not venture to
disobey the emperor’s express command. Constantina,
Magnentius now finding that his affairs were desperate, who was well acquainted with her brother’s temper, and
and that there w'ere no hopes of pardon, recruited his
army in the best manner he could, and dispatched an as¬
sassin into the East to murder Gallus Caesar; hoping that
the death of the latter would oblige the emperor to with¬
draw his forces from Gaul, and to march in person for the
defence of the eastern provinces, which were threatened
by the Persians. The assassin gained over some of Gal¬
lus’s guards; but the plot being discovered before it could
hoped to pacify him by her artful insinuations, set out
first, leaving Gallus at Antioch ; but she had scarcely en¬
tered the province of Bithynia when she was seized with
a fever, which put an end to her life. Gallus now despair¬
ing of being able to appease his sovereign, thought of re¬
volting openly; but most of his friends having deserted
him on account of his inconstant and cruel temper, he was
at last obliged to submit to the pleasure of Constantius.
be put in execution, they were all seized and executed as He advanced, therefore, according to his orders; but at
traitors. Petavium he was arrested, stripped of all the ensigns of
In the year 353, the war against Magnentius was car- his dignity, and thence carried to Fianona, now Fianone,
ried on with more vigour than ever, and at last happily
ended by a battle fought in the higher Dauphiny. Mag¬
nentius, being defeated, took shelter in Lyons; but the
few soldiers who attended him, despairing of any further
success, resolved to purchase the emperor’s favour by de¬
livering up his rival, the author of so calamitous a war.
Accordingly they surrounded the house where he lodged ;
upon which the tyrant in despair slew with his own hand
his mother, his brother Desiderius, whom he had created
Caesar, and such of his friends and relations as were with
in Dalmatia, where he was examined by two of his most
inveterate enemies. He confessed most of the crimes laid
to his charge; but urged as an excuse the evil counsels of
his wife Constantina. The emperor, provoked at this plea,
which reflected on his sister, and instigated by the enemies
of Gallus, signed a warrant for his execution, which was
accordingly carried into effect.
During this time the emperor had been engaged in a
war with the Germans; he had marched against them in
person ; and, though he gained no important advantage,
him; and then fixing his sword in a wall, threw himself the barbarians thought proper to make peace with him
upon it, in order to avoid a more shameful death, which he
had every reason to apprehend.
After the death of Magnentius, his brother Decentius
Caesar, who was marching to his assistance, and had al¬
ready reached Sens, finding himself surrounded on all
sides by the emperor’s forces, chose rather to strangle
himself than to fall alive into the hands of his enemies
This, however, was but short lived. No sooner had the
Roman army withdrawn than they began to make new in¬
roads into the empire. Constantius dispatched Arbetio
with the flower of the army against them ; but the latter
fell into an ambuscade, and was put to flight, with the loss
of a great number of men. This, however, was soon re¬
trieved by the valour of Arinthaeus, and of two other offi-
Thus Constantius was left sole master of the Roman em- cers, who, falling upon the Germans without waiting for
pire. His panegyrists tell us that, after his victory, he the orders of their general, put
behaved with the greatest humanity, forgiving and receiv-
and obliged them to withdraw from the Roman territories.
The tranquillity of the empire which ensued on this
repulse of the Germans, was soon interrupted by a pre¬
tended conspiracy, which in the end produced a real one.
ing into favour his greatest enemies ; but other historians
affirm that Constantius now became haughty, imperious,
and cruel, of which disposition many instances are given.   - , . „ ‘ i  
This year the empire was subjected to the most grievous Sylvanus, a leading man among t le ran -s, <r°m . .
calamities. Gaul was ravaged by the barbarians beyond Gaul, and had there performe Srea ®XP 01 s & J>
the Rhine, and the disbanded troops of Magnentius. At barbarians. He had been raised to this post by Arbet o,
Rome, the populace rose on account of a scarcity of but only with the design o removing um , . , ,
provisions. In Asia, the Isaurian robbers overran Ly- peror’s presence in order to accomplish his ruin v c
caonia and Pamphylia, and even laid siege to Seleucia, succeeded in effecting. One Dynames, keeper oUhe ei
VOL. VII.
em-
274
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
Constan- peror’s mules, on leaving Gaul, begged of Sylvanus letters
tinopolitan 0f recommendation to his friends at court, which being
History. granted, the traitor erased from them all but the sub-
gcription. He then inserted directions to the friends of
Sylvanus for carrying on a conspiracy; and delivering
these forged letters to the prefect Lampidius, they were
by him shown to the emperor. Thus Sylvanus was forced
to revolt, and to cause himself to be proclaimed emperor
by the troops under his command. In the mean time, how¬
ever, Dynames having thought proper to forge another
letter, the fraud was discovered, and an inquiry set on
foot, which brought the whole matter to light. Sylvanus
was now declared innocent, and letters were sent to him
by the emperor, confirming him in his post; but these had
scarcely been dispatched when certain news arrived at
court of Sylvanus having revolted and caused himself to
be proclaimed emperor. Constantius, thunderstruck at
this news, dispatched against him Ursicinus, an officer of
great, integrity, as well as valour and experience in war;
who, forgetting his former character, pretended to be
Sylvanus’s friend, and thus found means to cut him off by
treachery.
The barbarians, who had hitherto been kept quiet by
the brave Sylvanus, no sooner heard of his death than
they broke into Gaul with greater fury than ever. They
took and pillaged above forty cities, and amongst the rest
Cologne, which they levelled with the ground. At the
same time the Quadi and Sarmatians entering Pannonia,
destroyed every thing by fire and sword. The Persians
also, taking advantage of the absence of Ursicinus, over¬
ran, without opposition, Armenia and Mesopotamia ; Pros¬
per and Mausonianus, who had succeeded that brave com¬
mander in the government of the East, being more intent
upon pillaging than defending the provinces committed
to their care. Constantius not thinking it advisable to
leave Italy himself, resolved at last to raise his cousin Ju¬
lian, the brother of Gallus, to the dignity of Caesar. Ju¬
lian, it seems, was a man of extraordinary talent and abi¬
lity ; for although before this time he had been entirely
buried in obscurity, and conversed only with books, no
sooner was he put at the head of an army than he be¬
haved with the same bravery, conduct, and experience,
as if he had been all his life bred up to the practice of
war. He was appointed governor of Gaul; but before he
set out, Constantius gave him in marriage his sister He¬
lena, and made him many valuable presents. At the same
time, however, the jealous emperor greatly limited his
authority ; gave him written instructions how to behave ;
ordered the generals who served under him to watch all
his actions no less than those of the enemy; and strictly
enjoined Julian himself not to give any largesses to the
soldiery.
Julian set out from Milan on the first of December 355,
the emperor himself accompanying him as far as Pavia,
whence he pursued his journey to the Alps, attended
only by three hundred and sixty soldiers. On his arrival
at Turin he was first informed of the loss of Cologne,
which had been kept concealed from the emperor. He
arrived at Vienna before the end of the year, and was re¬
ceived by the people of that city and the neighbourhood
with extraordinary joy.
In 356, the barbarians having besieged Autun, Julian
marched with what forces he could raise to the relief
of the place. When he arrived there he found the siege
had been raised; on which he went in pursuit of the bar¬
barians to Auxerre, crossing with no small danger thick
woods and forests, from Auxerre to Troyes. On his march
he was surrounded on all sides by the barbarians, who
moved about the country in great bodies; but he put
them to flight with a handful of men, cut great numbers
of them in pieces, and took some prisoners. From Troyes (v
he hastened to Rheims, where the main body of the army,tine
commanded by Marcellus, waited his arrival. Leaving Hi 1!
Itheims, he pursued his route towards Decempagi, now V’)
Dieuze, on the Seille, in Lorrain, with the design of op¬
posing the Germans, who were busy in ravaging that pro¬
vince. But the enemy having unexpectedly attacked
his rear, would have cut off two legions, had not the
rest of the army, alarmed at the sudden noise, turned
back to their assistance. A few days afterwards he de¬
feated the Germans, though with great loss to his own
army ; the victory, however, opened him the way to Co¬
logne. This city he found abandoned by the barbarians.
They had neglected to fortify it; but Julian commanded
the ancient fortifications to be repaired with all possible
expedition, and the houses to be rebuilt; after which he
retired to Sens, and there took up his winter quarters.
This year also Constantius entered Germany on the side
of Rhaetia, laid waste the country far and wide, and ob¬
liged the barbarians to sue for peace, which was readily
granted. * The same year he enacted two laws; one of
which declared it capital to sacrifice or pay any kind of
worship to idols; and the other granted the effects of con¬
demned persons to their children and relations within the
third degree, except in cases of magic and treason; but
this last one he revoked two years after.
In the beginning of the year 357 the barbarians besieg¬
ed Julian for a whole month in Sens ; Marcellus, the com¬
mander-in-chief, never once offering to assist him. Julian,
however, defended himself so valiantly with the few forces
he had, that the barbarians at last retired. After this
Constantius declared Julian commander-in-chief of all the
forces in Gaul, and appointed under him one Severus, an
officer of great experience, and of a more accommodating
disposition than Marcellus. On his arrival in Gaul, Julian
received him with great joy, raised new troops, and sup¬
plied them with arms ^vhich he had luckily found in an old
arsenal. The emperor, resolving at all events to put a stop
to the terrible devastations committed by the barbarous
nations, chiefly by the Alemans, wrote to Julian to march
directly against them ; and at the same time he sent Barba-
tio, who had been appointed general in stead of Sylvanus,
with a body of twenty-five or thirty thousand men, from
Italy, in order to inclose the enemy between two armies.
The Leti, however, a German nation, passing between the
armies, advanced as far as Lyons, hoping to surprise that
wealthy city; but meeting with a warmer reception than
they had expected, they contented themselves with ra¬
vaging the country all round. On the first notice of this
expedition, Julian detached strong parties to guard the
■ passages through which he knew the barbarians must re¬
turn ; and thus they were all cut off, excepting those who
marched near the camp of Barbatio, wdio was so far from
intercepting their retreat, that he complained by a letter
to Constantius of some officers for attempting it. These
officers, among whom was Valentinian, afterwards empe¬
ror of the West, were, by the order of Constantius, ca¬
shiered for their disobedience. The other barbarians either
fortified themselves in the countries which they had seized,
stopping up all the avenues with huge trees, or took shel¬
ter in the islands formed by the Rhine. Julian resolved
first to attack the latter, and with this view he demanded
some boats of Barbatio; but the latter, instead ot comply¬
ing with his just request, immediately burnt all his boats,
as he did on another occasion the provisions which had
been sent to both armies, after he had plentifully supplied
his own. Julian, not in the least disheartened by this
unaccountable conduct, persuaded some of the most re¬
solute of his men to wade over to one of the islands, where
they killed all the Germans who had taken shelter in it.
)DSt I'
opol I11
isto
'Y1
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
They then seized the boats belonging to the barbarians,
and pursued the slaughter in several other islands, till the
enemy abandoned them all, and retired to their respec¬
tive countries with their wives and what booty they could
carry. On their departure Barbatio attempted to con¬
struct a bridge of boats over the Rhine; but the enemy, ap¬
prised of his intention, threw’ a great number of huge trees
into the river, which being carried by the stream against
the boats, sunk several of them, and parted the rest. The
Roman general then thought proper to retire; but the
barbarians falling unexpectedly upon him in his retreat,
cut great numbers of his men in pieces, took most of his
baggage, laid waste the neighbouring country, and re¬
turned in triumph loaded with booty. Elated with this
success, they assembled in great numbers under the com¬
mand of Chnodomarius, a prince of great renown among
them, and six other kings. They encamped in the neigh¬
bourhood of Strasburg. Here they were encountered
by Julian, who put them to flight, with the loss of six or
eight thousand men killed on the field, and a greater num¬
ber drowned in the river; whilst Julian himself lost only
two hundred and forty-three private men and four tri¬
bunes. In this action Chnodomarius was taken prisoner
and sent to Rome, where he soon afterwards died.
After the battle Julian advanced with his army to May-
ence or Mentz, where he formed a bridge over the Rhine,
and entered Germany, having with difficulty prevailed upon
his army to follow him. Here he ravaged the country
till the time of the autumnal equinox, when being pre¬
vented by snow from advancing farther, he began to re¬
pair the fort of Trajan, by some supposed to be the castle
of Cromburg, about three or four leagues from Frankfort.
The barbarians were now’ so much alarmed that they sent
deputies to treat of peace ; but this Julian refused to grant
them upon any terms. He consented, however, to a truce
for seven months, upon their promising to store with pro¬
visions the fort he was building in their country. This
year Constantius made some remarkable laws. By one he
punished with confiscation such as renounced the Christian
for the Jewdsh religion; and by another, addressed to Fe¬
lix, bishop of Rome, he exempted all trading ecclesiastics,
with their wdves, children, and domestics, from every im¬
position ordinary and extraordinary; supposing that the
gains made by them were applied to the relief of the poor.
In 358, as soon as the season for action arrived, Julian
took the field against the Franks, with a design to conquer
them before the truce he had concluded with the Ale¬
mans had expired. The Franks were at that time divided
into several tribes, the most powerful of which were the
Salii and Chamavi. The first of these sent deputies, en¬
treating that he would suffer them to remain as friends to
the empire in the country they possessed. But Julian,
disregarding this deputation, entered their country, and
obliged them to submit; after which he allotted them
lands in Gaul, incorporating great numbers of them into
his cavalry. He next marched against the Chamavi,
whom he defeated and obliged to retire beyond the Rhine ;
and he afterwards rebuilt three forts on the river Meuse,
winch had been destroyed by the barbarians; but provi¬
sions becoming scarce in a country so often ravaged, he
ordered six or eight hundred vessels to be built in Britain
for the purpose of conveying corn from thence into Gaul.
Julian continued in the country of the Chamavi till the
expiration of his truce with the Alemans, and then con¬
structing a bridge of boats over the Rhine, he entered
their country, putting all to fire and sword. At last two
ol their kings came in person to him to sue for peace,
which Julian granted, upon their promising to set at liber¬
ty the captives they had taken, to supply a certain quan¬
tity of corn when required, and to furnish wood, iron, and
carnages, for repairing the cities they had ruined. The Constan-
pusoneis whom he at this time released amounted to up- tinopolitan
wards of twenty thousand. History.
Soon after the vernal equinox of this year, 358, Con-
stantms marched in person against the Quadi and Sarma-
tians, whose country lay beyond the Danube. Having
crossed that river on a bridge of boats, he laid waste the
territories of the Sarmatians, who thereupon came in
great numbers, together with the Quadi, pretending to
treat for peace. Their true design was to surprise the Ro¬
mans ; but the latter suspecting it, fell upon them sword
in hand, and cut them in pieces. This obliged the rest
to sue for peace in good earnest, which was granted on
the delivery of hostages. The emperor then marched
against the Limigantes, that is, the slaves who, in 334,
had driven the Sarmatians out of their country, and seiz¬
ed it for themselves. They used the same artifice as the
Sai matians and Quadi had done, coming in great numbers
under pretence of submitting, but prepared to fall upon
him unexpectedly if opportunity offered. The emperor,
observing their surly looks, and distrusting them, caused
his troops to surround them insensibly while he was speak¬
ing. The Limigantes then, displeased with the conditions
which he offered them, laid their hands on their swords ;
whereupon they were attacked by the Roman soldiers.
Finding it impossible to make their escape, they rushed
with great fury towards the tribunal, but were repulsed
by the guards forming themselves into a w’edge, and every
one of them cut in pieces. After this, the emperor ra¬
vaged their country to such a degree, that they were in
the end obliged to submit to the only condition he thought
proper to allow them, which was to quit their country, and
retire to a more distant region. The country was then
restored to the Sarmatians, who were its original posses¬
sors.
This year is also remarkable for an embassy from Sapor,
king of Persia. The ambassador, named Narses, brought
a letter, in which the Persian monarch styled himself
King of Kings, brother of the Sun and Moon, and appro¬
priated other epithets of the same hyperbolical kind. He
acquainted the emperor, that he might lawfully insist on
having all the countries beyond the river Strymon in Ma¬
cedonia delivered up to him; but lest his demands should
seem unreasonable, he would be contented with Armenia
and Mesopotamia, which had been most unjustly taken
from his grandfather Narses. He added, that unless jus¬
tice were done him, he had resolved to assert his right
by force of arms. This letter w’as presented to Constan¬
tius wrapped up in a piece of w’hite silk; but the empe¬
ror, without entering into any negotiation with the ambas¬
sador, wrote a letter to Sapor, in which he told the Per¬
sian monarch, that as he had maintained the Roman do¬
minions in their full extent when he was possessed only
of the Fast, he could not suffer them to be curtailed now’
when he was master of the whole empire. In a few days,
however, he sent another letter, with rich presents ; being
desirous at least to postpone the war until he had secured
the northern provinces against the incursions of the bar¬
barians, that he might then employ all the forces of the
empire against so formidable an enemy. This embassy
proved unsuccessful, as did also another w’hich was sent
soon afterwards. The last ambassadors were imprisoned
as spies, but afterwards dismissed uninjured. By a law of
Constantius dated in 358, all magicians, augurs, astrolo¬
gers, and pretenders to the art of divination, were declar¬
ed enemies to mankind ; and such of them as were found
in the court, either of the emperor or of Julian, he com¬
manded to be put to the torture, at the same time specify¬
ing what torments they were to undergo.
In 359, Julian continued his endeavours for relieving the
Kl.
276
Constan-
tinopolitan
History.
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY
province of Gaul, which had suffered so much from the
incursions of the barbarians. He erected magazines in
different places, visited the cities which had suffered most,
and gave orders for repairing their walls and fortifications.
He then crossed the Rhine, and pursued the war in Ger¬
many with so great success that the barbarians submitted
to such terms as he pleased to impose. In the mean time,
the emperor, having received intelligence that the Limi-
gantes had quitted the country to which he had driven
them, hastened to the hanks of the Danube, in order to
prevent their entering Pannonia. On his arrival he sent
deputies, desiring to know what had induced them to aban¬
don the country which had been allotted them. I he
Limigantes answered with the greatest apparent submis¬
sion imaginable, that they were willing to live as true sub¬
jects of the empire in any other place ; but that the coun¬
try he had allotted them was quite uninhabitable, as they
could demonstrate if they were but allowed to cross the
river, and lay their complaints before him. Ibis request
was granted ; but whilst he ascended his tribunal, the bai-
harians unexpectedly fell upon his guards sword m hand,
killed several of them, and the emperor with difhculty
saved himself by flight. The rest of the troops, however,
soon took the alarm, and surrounding the Limigantes, cut
them off to a man. This year Constantius instituted a
court of inquisition against all those who had consulted
heathen oracles. Paulus Catena, a noted and ciuel m-
former, was dispatched into the East to prosecute them;
and Modestus, then count of the East, and equally remark¬
able for his cruelty, was appointed judge. His tribunal
was erected at Scythopolis, in Palestine, whither persons
of both sexes, and of every rank and condition, were daily
dragged in crowds from all parts, and either confined in
dungeons, torn in pieces in a most cruel and barbarous
manner by racks, or publicly executed. .
In 359, Sapor, king of Persia, began hostilities, being
encouraged thereto by the absence of Ursidnus, whom the
emperor had recalled, having appointed in his stead one
Sabinianus, a person very unfit for such an office. Dm mg
this campaign, however, he made very little progress,
having only taken two Roman forts, and destroyed the
city of Amida, the siege of which is said to have cost him
thirty thousand men. On the first news of the Persian
invasion, Constantius thought proper to send Ursicinus
into the East; but his enemies prevented him from receiv¬
ing the supplies necessary for carrying on the war; so
that he found it impossible to take any effectual means
for stopping the progress of the Persians. On his return,
he was unexpectedly charged with the loss of Amida, and
all the disasters which had happened during the campaign.
Two judges were appointed to inquire into his conduct;
but they, being creatures of his enemies, left the matter
doubtful. On this Ursicinus was so much exasperated,
that he appealed to the emperor, and in the heat of pas¬
sion let fall some unguarded expressions, which, being im¬
mediately carried to the emperor, irritated him so much
that the general was deprived of all his employments.
Constantius resolved to march next year in person
against the Persians; but in the mean time dreading to
encounter so formidable an enemy, he applied himself
wholly to the assembling of a mighty army, by which he
might be able fully to cope with them. For this purpose
he^wrote to Julian to send him part of his forces, without
considering that by so doing he left the province of Gaul
exposed to the ravages of the barbarians., Julian resolved
immediately to comply with the emperor’s orders, but at
the same time to abdicate the dignity of Caesar, that he
might not be blamed for the loss of the province. Ac¬
cordingly he suffered the best soldiers to be draughted
from his army. They were, however, very unwilling to
18.
leave him, and at last proclaimed him emperor. Whether C
this was done absolutely against Julian s consent or not is hr
uncertain ; but he wrote to the emperoi, and persuaded I irj,
the whole army also to send a letter along with his, in HP
which they acquainted Constantius with what had hap¬
pened, and entreated him to acknowledge Julian as his
partner in the empire. But this was positively refused by
Constantius, who began to prepare for war. Julian then,
designing to be beforehand with the emperor, caused his
troops to take an oath of allegiance to himself, and with
surprising expedition made himself mastei of the whole
country of Illyricum, and of the important pass separating
that country from Thrace. Constantius was thunder¬
struck with this news ; but hearing that the Persians had
retired, he marched with all his force against his compe¬
titor. On his arrival at Tarsus, in Cilicia, he was seized
with a feverish distemper, occasioned chiefly by the un¬
easiness and perplexity of his. mind. He pursued his
march, however, to Mosucrene, a place on the borders of
Cilicia, at the foot of Mount Taurus, where he was ob¬
liged to stop by the violence of his disorder, which in¬
creased every day, and at last carried him off on the thir¬
teenth of November 361, in the forty-fifth year of his age.
By the death of Constantius, Julian now became mas¬
ter of the whole Roman empire without a rival. He had
been educated in the Christian religion, but had secretly
apostatized from it long before ; and as soon as he saw him¬
self master of Illyricum, he openly avowed his apostacy,
and caused the temples of the gods to be opened. When
the messengers arrived at Naissus, in Illyricum, where he
then was, to acquaint him with his being sole master of
the empire, they found him consulting the entiails of vic¬
tims concerning the event of his journey'. As the omens
were uncertain, he was at that time very much embar¬
rassed and perplexed; but the arrival of the messengers
put an end to all his fears, and he immediately set out for
Constantinople. ,At Heraclea he was met by almost all
the inhabitants of the metropolis, into which he made his
public entry on the 11th of December d61, attended by
the whole senate in a body, by all the magistrates, and
by the nobility magnificently dressed, every one testifying
the utmost joy at seeing such a promising young prince
raised to the empire without bloodshed. He was again
declared emperor by the senate of Constantinople ; and as
soon as that ceremony was over, he caused the obsequies
of Constantius to be celebrated with great pomp.
The first care of Julian was to inquire into the conduct
of the late emperor’s ministers, several of whom being
found guilty of enormous crimes, were condemned and
executed ; particularly the noted informer Paulus Catena,
and another one named Apodamus, who wrere sentenced
to be burnt alive. Along with these, however, was put to
death Ursula, a man of unexceptionable character, to whom
Julian himself had been highly indebted. He had been
supplied with money by Ursula, unknown to the emperor,
at the time when he was sent into Gaul, with toe title ot
Caesar, but without the means necessary for the support
of that dignity. For what reason he was now put to death
historians do not acquaint us. Julian himself assures us
that Ursula was executed without his knowledge.
The emperor next set about reforming the court. As
the vast number of offices had in his time become an in¬
tolerable burden, he discharged all those whom he thought
useless: among the rest, he reduced the officers called
aqentes in rebus, from ten thousand to seventeen ; and dis¬
charged thousands of cooks, barbers, and others, whose
large salaries had drained the exchequer. Ihe
whose office it was to inform the emperor of what nau
passed in the different provinces, were ail discharged, ana
that employment entirely suppesserd. Thus he was en
tIT
Oils' I '
t.n
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
abled to disburthen the people of the heavy taxes with
which they were loaded ; and this he did by abating a fifth
part of all taxes and imposts throughout the kingdom.
As to religious matters, Julian, as before observed, was
a Pagan, and immediately on his accession to the throne
restored the heathen religion. He invited to court the
philosophers, magicians, and such like persons, from all
parts; nevertheless, he did not institute any persecution
against the Christians. On the contrary, he recalled from
banishment all the orthodox bishops who had been sent
into exile during the former reign ; but with a design, as
is observed both by the Christian and Pagan writers, to
raise disturbances and sow dissensions in the church.
As the Persians were now preparing to carry on the war
with vigour, Julian found himself under the necessity of
marching in person against them. But before he set out,
he enriched the city of Constantinople with many valuable
gifts: he formed a large harbour to shelter the ships from
the south wind; built a magnificent porch leading to it;
and founded a stately library, in which he lodged all his
books. In the month of May 362 he set out for Antioch,
and on the first of January renewed in that city the sacri¬
fices to Jupiter for the safety of the empire, which had so
long been omitted. During his stay in this city, he con¬
tinued his preparations for the Persian war; erecting ma¬
gazines, making new levies, and above all consulting the
oracles, aruspices, magicians, and the like. The oracles of
Delphi, Delos, and Dodona, assured him of victory. The
aruspices, indeed, and most of his courtiers and officers,
did all that lay in their power to divert him from his in¬
tended expedition ; but the deceitful answers of the ora¬
cles and magicians, and the desire of adding the Persian
monarch to the many kings whom he had already seen
humbled at his feet, prevailed over all other considera¬
tions. Many nations sent deputies to him offering their
assistance ; but these offers he rejected, telling them that
the Romans were to assist their allies, but stood in no need
of any assistance from them. He likewise rejected, in a
very disobliging manner, the offers of the Saracens; and
when they complained of his stopping the pension paid
them by other emperors, he told them that a warlike prince
had steel, but no gold; a reply which irritated them so
much that they joined the Persians, and continued faith¬
ful to them to the last. However, he wrote to Arsaces,
king of Armenia, enjoining him to keep his troops in readi¬
ness to execute the commands which he should soon trans¬
mit to him.
Having made the necessary preparations for so impor¬
tant an enterprise, Julian §ent orders to his troops to cross
the Euphrates, designing to enter the enemy’s country be¬
fore they had the least notice of his march ; and for this
purpose he had placed guards on all the roads. From
Antioch he proceeded to Litarba, a place about fifteen
leagues distant, which he reached the same day; and
thence he marched to Beraea, where he halted a day, and
exhorted the council to restore the worship of the gods ;
but this exhortation, it seems, was complied with by few.
From Beraea he proceeded to Batnae, and was better
pleased with the inhabitants of the latter, because they
had, before his arrival, restored the worship of the gods.
There he offered sacrifices, and having immolated a great
number of victims, pursued the next day his journey to
Hierapolis, the capital of the province of Euphratesiana,
which he reached on the 9th of March. Here he lodged
in the house of one for whom he had a particular esteem,
chiefly because neither Constantius nor Gallus, who had
both lodged in his house, had been able to make him re¬
nounce the worship of his idols. As he entered this city,
fifty of his soldiers were killed by the fall of a porch. He
left Hierapolis on the 13th of March, and having passed
the Euphrates on a bridge of boats, arrived at Batnae, a Constan-
small city of Osrhoene, about ten leagues from Hierapolis. dnopolitan
From Batnae he proceeded to Carrhae, where, in the fa- History,
mous temple of the moon, it is said he sacrificed a woman
to that planet.
While Julian continued in this city, he received advice
that a party of the enemy’s horse had broken into the Ro¬
man territones. On this he resolved to leave an army in
Mesopotamia, to guard the frontiers of the empire on that
side, whilst he advanced on the other into the heart of the
Persian dominions. This army consisted, according to
some, of twenty thousand, but according to others of thirty
thousand chosen troops. It was commanded by Proco¬
pius, and Sebastian, a famous Manichean who had been
governor of Egypt, and had there persecuted, with the
utmost cruelty, the orthodox Christians. These two were
to join, if possible, Arsaces, king of Armenia, to lay wxiste
the fruitful plains of Media, and to meet the emperor in
Assyria. To Arsaces Julian himself wrote, but in the
most disobliging manner imaginable, threatening to treat
him as a rebel if he did not execute, with the utmost
punctuality, the orders given him, and in the conclusion
telling him, that the God he adored would not be able to
screen him from punishment, in the event of disobedience.
There were two roads leading from Carrhae to Persia;
the one to the left by Nisibis, and the other to the right
through the province of Assyria, along the banks of the Eu¬
phrates. Julian chose the latter, but caused magazines to
be erected on both roads; and, after having reviewed his
army, set out on the 25th of March. He passed the Abora,
which separated the Roman and Persian dominions near
its conflux with the Euphrates ; after which he broke down
the bridge, that his troops might not be tempted to desert.
As he proceeded on his march, a soldier and two horses
were struck dead by lightning; and a lion of extraordi¬
nary size presenting himself to the army, was in a moment
dispatched by the soldiers with a shower of darts. These
omens occasioned great disputes between the philosophers
and aruspices. The latter looking upon them as inauspi¬
cious, advised the emperor to return ; but the former re¬
futed their arguments with others more agreeable to Ju¬
lian’s temper.
Having passed the Abora, Julian entered Assyria, which
he found very populous, and abounding in all the neces¬
saries of life ; but he laid it waste far and near, destroying
the magazines and provisions which he could not carry
along with him ; and thus he put it out of his power to re¬
turn the same way he advanced, a step which was judged
most impolitic. As he met with no army in the field to
oppose him, he advanced to the walls of Ctesiphon, the
metropolis of the Persian empire, having reduced all the
strongholds that lay in his way. Here, having caused the
canal to be cleared which had formerly been dug by Trajan
between these two rivers, he conveyed his fleet from the
former to the latter. On the banks of the Tigris he was
opposed by the enemy. But Julian passed that river in
spite of their utmost efforts, and drove them into the city
with the loss of a great number of their men.
Julian had now advanced so far into the enemy’s coun¬
try that he found it necessary to think of a retreat, as it
was impossible for him to winter in Persia. For this rea¬
son he made no attempt on Ctesiphon, but began to march
back along the banks of the Tigris, soon alter he had pass¬
ed that river. In the mean time the king ot Persia had
assembled a formidable army, with the intention of falling
upon the Romans in their march; but being desirous oi
putting an end to so destructive a war, he sent advan¬
tageous proposals of peace to Julian. These, however,
the Roman emperor most imprudently rejected ; and soon
afterwards, deceived by treacherous guides, he quitted
278
Constan-
tinopolitan
History.
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
the river, and entered into an unknown country totally laid
waste by the enemy, and where he was continually haras¬
sed by strong parties, who in a manner surrounded his
army, and attacked him sometimes in front and sometimes
in rear. But the treacherous guides already mentioned
persuaded him to take a step still more ruinous and fatal,
namely, to burn his fleet, lest it should fall into the hands
of the enemy. As soon as the fleet had been set on fire,
the whole army cried out that the emperor was betrayed,
and that the guides were traitors employed by the enemy.
Julian ordered them immediately to be put to the rack,
upon which they confessed the treason ; but it was too
late. The fleet was already in flames which could by no
means be extinguished; and no part was saved except
twelve vessels, which were designed to be made use of in
the building of bridges, and which for this purpose were
conveved over land in waggons.
The emperor thus finding himself in a strange country,
and his army greatly dispirited, called a council of his
chief officers, in which it was resolved to proceed to Cor-
duene, which lay south of Armenia, and belonged to the
Romans. But they had not proceeded far in this direction
when they were met by the king of Persia, at the head of a
numerous army, attended by his two sons, and all the prin¬
cipal nobility of the kingdom. Several sharp encounters
happened, in which, though the Persians were always de¬
feated, yet the Romans reaped no advantages from then-
victories, but were reduced to the last extremity for want
of provisions. In one of these skirmishes, when the Ro¬
mans were suddenly attacked, the emperor, eager to re¬
pulse the enemy, hastened to the field of battle without
his armour, when he received a mortal wound by a dait,
which, through his arm and side, pierced his very liver.
Of this wound he died the same night, the 26th of June
363, in the thirty-second year of his age, after having
reigned scarcely twenty months from the time he bpcame
sole master of the Roman empire.
As Julian had declined naming any successor, the choice
of a new emperor devolved on the army, who unani¬
mously chose Jovian, a very able commander, whose fa¬
ther had lately resigned the post of comes domesticorum,
in order to lead a retired life. The valour and expe¬
rience of Jovian, however, were not sufficient to extii-
cate the Roman army from the difficulties in which it
had been plunged by the imprudence of his predecessor.
Famine raged in the camp to such a degree, that not a
single man would have been left alive, had not the Per¬
sians unexpectedly sent proposals of peace, which were
now received with the utmost joy. A peace was conclud¬
ed for thirty years, the terms of which were that Jovian
should restore to the Persians the fine provinces which
had been taken from them in the reign of Diocletian, with
several castles, and the cities of Nisibis and Singara. Af¬
ter the conclusion of the treaty, Jovian pursued his march
without molestation. When he arrived at Antioch, he re¬
voked all the laws which had been made in the former
reign against Christianity, and in favour of Paganism. He
also espoused the cause of the orthodox Christians against
the Arians; and he recalled all those who had been for¬
merly banished, particularly Athanasius, to whom he wrote
a very obliging letter with his own hand. It is generally
believed also that Athanasius, at the desire of Jovian,
now composed the creed which still bears his name, and
is subscribed by all the bishops in Europe. But this em¬
peror did not live to make any great alterations, nor even
to visit his capital as emperor; for in his way to Constan¬
tinople he was found dead in his bed, on the 16th or 17th
of February 364, after having lived thirty-three years, and
reigned seven months and forty days.
After the death of Jovian, Valentinian was chosen em¬
peror. Immediately on his accession the soldiers muti- ci
nied, and with great clamour required him to choose ath ^
partner in the sovereignty. He did not instantly comply T \
with this demand; but in a few days he chose his brother U v
Valens as his partner; and the empire being threatened
on all sides with an invasion of the barbarous nations, he
thought proper to divide it. Jhis famous partition was
executed at Mediana, in Dacia. Valens xeceived as his
share the whole of Asia, Egypt, and ihrace; and \ alen-
tinian retained all the West, including lllyricum, Italy,
Gaul, Spain, Britain, and Africa.
After this partition Valens returned to Constantinople,
where the beginning of his reign was disturbed by the re¬
volt of Procopius, a relation of Julian. On the death of
that emperor, he had fled into Taurica Chersonesus, from
dread of Jovian; but not trusting the barbarians who in¬
habited that country, he returned in disguise into the
Roman territories, where, having gained over an eunuch
of great wealth, called Eugenius, lately disgraced by Va¬
lens, and some officers who commanded the troops sent
against the Goths, he got himself proclaimed emperor.
At first he was joined only by the lowest of the people,
but at length he was acknowledged by the whole city of
Constantinople. On the news of this revolt, Valens would
have abdicated the sovereignty, had he not been prevent¬
ed by the importunities of his friends. He therefore dis¬
patched some troops against the usurper ; but these were
gained over, and Procopius continuing for some time to
gain ground, it is probable he would finally have suc¬
ceeded, had he not become so much elated with his good
fortune that he grew tyrannical and insupportable to his
own party. In consequence of this alteration in his dis¬
position, he was first abandoned by some of his principal
officers, and soon afterwards defeated in battle, taken pri¬
soner, and put to death. i
This revolt produced a war betwixt Valens and the
Goths. The latter, having been solicited by Procopius,
had sent three thousand men to his assistance. On hear¬
ing the news of the usurper’s death, they countermarched;
but Valens detached against them a body of troops, who
took them all prisoners, notwithstanding the vigorous re¬
sistance they made. Athanaric, king of the Goths, ex¬
postulated with Valens against this pioceeding, but that
emperor proving obstinate, both parties prepared for war.
In 367 and 369, Valens gained great advantages over his
enemies, and obliged them to sue for peace, which was
concluded upon terms advantageous to the Romans. The
rest of his reign contains nothing remarkable, except the
cruelty with which he persecuted the orthodox clerg).
The latter sent eighty of their number to him, in order
to lay their complaints before him; but, instead of giv¬
ing them any relief, he determined to put them all to
death. The person, however, who was ordered to execute
this sentence, fearing lest the public execution of so many
ecclesiastics might raise disturbances, ordered them all to
be put on board a ship, pretending that the emperor had
ordered them only to be sent into banishment; but when
the vessel was at some distance from the land, the man¬
ners set fire to it, and made their own escape in a boat.
The ship was driven by a strong wind into a harbour,
where it was consumed, with all who were on board. A
persecution was also commenced against magicians, or
those who had books of magic in their custody. I his oc¬
casioned the destruction of many innocent persons; tor
books of this kind were often conveyed into libraries, un¬
known to the owners of them, an act which was certainly
followed by death and confiscation of goods. Persons o
all ranks were consequently seized with such terror tnac
they burnt their libraries, lest books of magic should
secretly conveyed amongst those of which they consis e
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
In 378 the Goths whom Valeris had admitted into Thrace great tokens of friendship.
279
m advanced from that province to Macedonia and Thessaly,
• where they committed dreadful ravages. They afterwards
7 blockaded the city of Constantinople, plundered the sub¬
urbs, and at last totally defeated and killed the emperor
himself. The day after the battle, hearing that an immense
treasure was lodged in Adrianople, the barbarians laid
siege to that place; but being strangers to the art of be¬
sieging towns, they were repulsed with great slaughter,
upon which they abandoned the enterprise, and returned
before Constantinople. But here great numbers of them
were cut in pieces by the Saracens, whom Maria, the
queen of that people, had sent to the assistance of the
Romans; so that they were obliged to abandon this design
likewise, and retire from the neighbourhood of the city.
By the death of Valens the empire once more fell into
the hands of a single person. This was Gratian, who had
held the empire of the West, after the death of Valenti-
nian. He repulsed many barbarous nations who threat¬
ened inroads on various sides; but finding himself severe¬
ly pressed, he soon resolved to take a colleague, in order
to relieve himself of part of the burden. Accordingly, on
the 19th of January 379, he declared Theodosius his part¬
ner in the empire, and committed to his care all the pro¬
vinces which had been governed by Valens.
Theodosius is greatly extolled by the historians of those
ages on account of his extraordinary valour and piety;
and for these qualifications he has been honoured with
the surname of Great. From the many persecuting laws,
however, made in his time, it would seem that his piety
was at least very much misdirected; and that if he was na¬
turally of a humane and compassionate disposition, super¬
stition and passion had often totally obscured it. He cer¬
tainly was a man of great conduct and experience in war;
and indeed the present state of the empire called for an
exertion of all his abilities. The provinces of Dacia,
Thrace, and Ulyricum, were already lost; the Goths, Tai-
fali, Alans, and Huns, were masters of the greater part
of these provinces, and had ravaged and laid waste the
remainder. The Iberians, Armenians, and Persians, were
likewise up in arms, and ready to take advantage of the
distracted state of the empire. The few soldiers who had
survived the late defeat kept within the strongholds of
fhrace, without even daring to look abroad, much less
to face the victorious enemy, who moved about the coun¬
try in great bodies. But notwithstanding this critical si¬
tuation, the historians of those times give us no account
of the transactions of the year 379. Many great battles
indeed are said to have been fought, and as many victo¬
ries obtained by Theodosius; but the accounts of these
are so confused and contradictory, that no stress can be
I laid upon them.
. In the month of February 380, Theodosius was seized
with a dangerous malady, so that Gratian found himself
obliged to carry on the war alone. This emperor, appre¬
hending that the neighbouring barbarians might break into
some of the provinces, concluded with the Goths a peace,
which was confirmed by Theodosius on his recovery. The
treaty was very advantageous to the barbarians ; but they,
disregarding all their engagements, no sooner heard that
bratian had left Illyricum than they passed the Danube,
and breaking into Thrace and Pannonia, advanced as far
as Macedonia, destroying all with fire and sword. Theo¬
dosius, however, having collected his forces, marched
against them, and, according to the most respectable au-
t onties, gained a complete victory; though Zosimus re-
lates that he was utterly defeated.
he following year Athanaric, the most powerful of all
e Gothic princes, being driven out by a faction at home,
app led to Iheodosius, by whom he was received with
~ ^ i • , * emperor himself went Constan-
mee nm, and attended him with his numerous bnopolitan
retinue into the city. The Gothic prince died the same Hlstory-
year, and Theodosius caused him to be buried after the   * '
Roman manner, with such pomp and solemnity that the
Goths who attended him in his flight returned home with
a resolution never to molest the Romans any more. Nay,
out of gratitude to the emperor, they took upon them to
guard the banks of the Danube, and prevent the empire
from being invaded on that side. r
In 383, one Maximus revolted against Gratian in Bri¬
tain ; and having at length got the unhappy emperor into
his power, caused him to be put to death, upon which the
usurper assumed the empire of the West himself. Gra¬
tian had divided his dominions with his brother Valenti-
man, whom he allowed to reign in Italy and Western Illy¬
ricum, reserving the rest to himself. Maximus, therefore,
immediately after his usurpation, sent deputies to Theodo¬
sius, assuring him that he had no designs on the dominions
of Valentinian. As Theodosius at that time found himself
in danger from the barbarians, he not only forbore to at¬
tack Maximus after this declaration, but even acknowledg¬
ed him as his partner in the empire. It was not long, how¬
ever, before the ambition of the usurper prompted him to
violate his promise. In 387 he suddenly passed the Alps;
and meeting with no opposition, marched to Milan, where
Valentinian usually resided. The young prince fled first
to Aquileia, and thence to Thessalonica, in order to im¬
plore the protection of Theodosius. The latter, in answer
to Valentinian’s letter, informed him that he was not at
all surprised at the progress Maximus had made, because
the usurper had protected, and Valentinian had perse¬
cuted, the orthodox Christians. At last he prevailed on
the young prince to renounce the Arian heresy, which the
latter had hitherto maintained; after which Theodosius
promised to assist him with all the forces of the East. At
first, however, he sent messengers to Maximus, earnestly
exhorting him to restore the provinces which he had taken
from Valentinian, and content himself with Gaul, Spain,
and Britain. But the usurper would hearken to no terms.
This very year he besieged and took Aquileia, Quaderna,
Bononia, Mutina, Rhegium, Placentia, and many other
cities in Italy ; and the following year he was acknowledged
in Rome, and in all the provinces of Africa. Theodosius,
therefore, finding a war inevitable, spent the remaining
months of this and the beginning of the following year in
making the necessary preparations. His army consisted
chiefly of Goths, Huns, Alans, and other barbarians, whom
he was glad to take into his service in order to prevent
their raising disturbances on the frontiers. He defeated
Maximus in two battles, took him prisoner, and put him
to death. The usurper had left his son Victor, whom he
created Augustus, in Gaul, to overawe the inhabitants in
his absence. Against him the emperor dispatched Arbo-
gastes, who took him prisoner after having dispersed the
troops that attended him, and put him to death. The vic¬
tory was afterwards used by Theodosius with great cle¬
mency and moderation.
In 389 Theodosius made a journey to Rome, and, ac¬
cording to Prudentius, at this time converted the senate
and people from idolatry to Christianity. The next year
was remarkable for the destruction of the celebrated
temple of Serapis in Alexandria, which, according to the
description of Ammianus Marcellinus, surpassed all others
in the world, that of Jupiter Capitolinus alone excepted.
The reason of its being now destroyed was this. Iheo-
philus, bishop of Alexandria, having begged and obtained
of the emperor an old temple, formerly consecrated to Bac¬
chus, but then ruined and forsaken, with the design ot
converting it into a church, the workmen found among the
280
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
Constan- rubbish several obscene figures, which the bishop, m order
tinopolitan t0 ridicule the superstition of the heathens, caused to be ex-
History. d to public view. This provoked the Pagans to such
a degree that they flew to arras; and falling unexpected¬
ly upon the Christians, cut great numbers of them m
nieces. The latter, however, soon took arms in their own
defence; and being snppor.ed by the few soldiers who
were quartered in the city, began to repel force by ioi ce
Thus k civil war was kindled, and no day passed without
some encounter. The Pagans used to retire to the temple
of Serapis, and thence sallying out unexpectedly, seized
on such Christians as they met, and dragging
the temple, either forced them by the most exquisite toi-
“oP sacrifice to their idol, or, if they refused rack^
them to death. As soon as they expected to ^ attacke
by the emperor’s troops, they chose a^phdosopher named
Olympus as their leader, with the design of defending
themselves to the last extremity. The emperor, however,
would not suffer any punishment to be inflicted upon t ie
for the lives of those whom they had put to death, but
readily forgave them; however, he ordered all the temples
of Alexandria to be immediately pulled dovyn, and com¬
manded the bishop to see his orders put in execution.
The Pagans no sooner heard that the emperor was ac¬
quainted with their proceedings than they abandoned the
temple, which was in a short time destroyed by Iheophi-
lus; nothing being left except the foundations, which could
not be removed, on account of the extraordinary weight
and size of the stones. Not satisfied with the destruction
of the Alexandrian temples, the zealous bishop encou¬
raged the people to pull down all the other temples, ora-
tories, chapels, and places set apart for the worship of the
heathen gods throughout Egypt, and ordered the statues
of the gods themselves to be either burnt or melted down.
Of the innumerable statues which at that time were to be
found in Egypt, he is said to have spared but one, name¬
ly, that of an ape, in order to expose the Pagan religion
to ridicule. On his return to Constantinople, Theodosius
ordered such temples as were yet standing to be thrown
down, and the Arians to be everywhere driven out of the
In 392 Valentinian, emperor of the West, was treacher¬
ously murdered by Arbogastes his general, who, though he
mlo-lit afterwards have easily seized on the sovereignty
himself, chose to confer it upon one Eugemus and to
reio-n in his name. This new usurper, though a Christian,
was greatly favoured by the Pagans, who were well ap¬
prised that he only bore the title of emperor, while the
whole power lodged in Arbogastes, who pretended to be
greatly attached to their religion. The aruspices appear¬
ed anew, and informed him that he was destined to the
empire of the whole world, and that he would soon gain a
complete victory over Theodosius, who was as much hated
as Eugenius was beloved by the gods. But though Euge-
nius seemed to favour the Pagans, yet in the very begin¬
ning of his reign he wrote to St Ambrose. The holy man
did°not answer his letter till he was pressed by some
friends to recommend them to the new prince; and then
he wrote to the usurper with all the respect due to an em¬
peror Soon after his accession to the empire, Eugemus
sent deputies to Theodosius, who is said to have received
them in a very obliging manner. He did not, however,
intend to enter into any alliance with this usurper, bnt
immediately began his military preparations. In 394 he
set out from Constantinople, and reached Adrianople on
the 15th of June that year. He bent his march through
Dacia, and the other provinces between Thrace and the
Julian Alps, with the design of forcing the passes of these
mountains, and breaking into Italy before the army of
Eugenius was in a condition to oppose him. On his ar¬
rival at the Alps he found these passes guarded by Fla- Con
vianus, prefect of Italy, at the head of a considerable body
of Roman troops. These, however, were utterly defeated “J
by Theodosius, who thereupon crossed the Alps and ad¬
vanced into Italy. He was soon met by Eugenius, and a
bloody battle ensued, without any decisive advantage on
either side ; but the next day the emperor led his troops in
person against the enemy, utterly defeated them, and took
their camp. Eugenius was taken prisoner by his own men,
and brought to Theodosius, who reproached him with
the murder of Valentinian, with the calamities which he
had brought on the empire by his unjust usurpation, and
with putting his confidence in Hercules, and not in the
true God; for on his chiet standard he had displayed the
image of that fabulous hero. Eugenius begged ear¬
nestly for his life; but whilst he lay prostrate at the em-
peror’s feet, his own soldiers cut off his head, and carrying
it about on the point of a spear, showed it to those in
the camp who had not yet submitted to Iheodosius.
At this they were all thunderstruck; but being informed
that Theodosius was ready to receive them into favour,
they threw down their arms and submitted. Alter this
Arbogastes, despairing of pardon, fled to the mountains;
but being informed that diligent search was made for him,
he laid violent hands on himself. His children, and those
of Eugenius, took sanctuary in churches; the emperor,
however, not only pardoned, but took the opportunity of
converting them to Christianity, restored to them their
paternal estates, and raised them to considerable employ-
nients in the state. Soon after this, Theodosius appointed
his son Honorius emperor of the West, assigning him as his
share Italy, Gaul, Spain, Africa, and West Illyncum. But
the next year, as he prepared for his return to Constan¬
tinople, he was seized with a dropsy, owing to the great
fatigues he had undergone during the war. As soon as he
perceived himself to be in danger, he made his will, by
which he bequeathed .the empire of the Eastto Arcadius,
and confirmed Honorius in the possession of the West,
likewise confirmed the pardon which he had granted to
all those who had borne arms against him, remitted a tn-
bute which had proved very burdensome to the people,
and charged his two sons to see that these points of lus
will were executed. He died at Mi an on the Hth of Ja¬
nuary 395, in the sixteenth year ot his reign, and fiftieth
0t Fronf the time of Theodosius to the time when the Ro¬
man empire in the West was totally destroyed by the
Goths, we find but very little remarkable in the history ol
Constantinople. At this time the eastern empire was
usurped by Basiliscus, who had driven out Zeno, the la«-
ful emperor, being assisted in his conspiracy by the em-
press Verin;, his fister. Zeno fled into Isauria whither
he was pursued by Ulus and Trecondes, two of the usurp¬
er’s generals, who having easily defeated the Jew roop»
he had with him, forced the unhappy prince to shut him
self up in a castle, which they immediately invested. But
in a short time Basiliscus having disobliged the people y
his cruelty, avarice, and other bad qualities, or wu
was no less remarkable than his predecessor had been,
generals joined with Zeno, whom they restm-ed ^
throne. After his restoration, Zeno having got Basihscus
into his power, confined him in a fstle
srether with his wife Zenomdes, where they both penshe
iSh Lnger and cold. This happened m the year
after Basiliscus had ve.gned about twS>t5ri"°n,**; ® d J
the time of « usurpation a dreadful Are happened
Constantinople, which consumed great part ot tl,e )
with the library containing ^^OOOvoJumes, amo g 1
were the works of Homer, written, as is said, on the grea
gut of a dragon a hundred and twenty feet long-
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
on: >
lop
list
The misfortunes which Zeno had undergone did not
an work any reformation upon him. He still continued the
'• game vicious courses which had given occasion to the usur-
pation of Basiliscus ; and other conspiracies were formed
against him, but he had the good fortune to escape them.
He engaged in a war witli the Ostrogoths, in which he
proved unsuccessful, and w^as obliged to yield to them
the provinces of Lower Dacia and Moesia. In a short
time, however, Theodoric their king made an irruption
into Thrace, and advanced within fifteen miles of Con¬
stantinople, with the design of besieging that capital; but
the following year, 485, they retired in order to attack
Odoacer, king of Italy, of which country Theodoric was
proclaimed king in 493. The emperor Zeno died in the year
491, in the sixty-fifth year of his age, and seventeenth of
his reign.
The Roman empire had now for a long time been on
the decline; and the valour and military discipline which
had for so many ages rendered the Romans superior to
other nations had now greatly degenerated. The tumults
and disorders which had happened in the empire from
time to time by the many usurpations, had also greatly con¬
tributed to weaken it. But w’hat proved of the greatest
detriment was the allowing vast swarms of barbarians to
settle in the different provinces, and to serve in the Ro¬
man empire in separate and independent bodies. This
had proved the immediate cause of the dissolution of the
western empire; but as it affected the eastern parts less,
the Constantinopolitan empire continued for upwards of
nine hundred years after that of the West had been totally
dissolved. The wreak and imprudent administration of
Zeno, and of Anastasius, who succeeded him, had reduced
the eastern empire still more; and it might possibly have
expired in a short time after the western one, had not the
wise and vigorous conduct of Justin and his partner Jus¬
tinian revived in some measure the ancient martial spirit
which had originally raised the Roman empire to its highest
pitch of grandeur.
Justin ascended the throne in 518. In 521 he engaged
in a war with the Persians, who had all along been formi¬
dable enemies to the Roman name. Against them he em¬
ployed the famous Belisarius, of w'hom, however, we hear no¬
thing remarkable till after the accession of Justinian. This
prince was the nephew of Justin, and was by him taken as
his partner in the empire in 527 ; and the same year Jus¬
tin died, in the seventy-seventh year of his age and ninth
of his reign. Justinian being now sole master of the em¬
pire, directed his whole force against the Persians. The
latter proved successful in the first engagement, but were
soon afterwards utterly defeated by Belisarius on the fron¬
tiers of Persia, and likewise by another general, named
Dorotheas, in Armenia. The war continued with various
success during the first five years of Justinian’s reign. In
the sixth year a peace was concluded upon the conditions
that the Roman emperor should pay to Cosrhoes, the king of
Persia, a thousand pounds weight of gold; that both princes
should restore the places they had taken during the wars ;
that the commander of the Roman forces should no longer
reside at Daras, on the Persian frontiers, but at a place
called Constantina, in Mesopotamia, as he had formerly
done; and that the Iberians who had sided with the Ro¬
mans should be at liberty either to return to their own
country or to remain at Constantinople. This peace, con¬
cluded in 532, was styled “ eternalbut in the event it
proved of very short duration.
About this time happened at Constantinople the great¬
est tumult mentioned in history. It began among the dif¬
ferent factions in the circus, but ended in an open rebel-
mn. I he multitude, highly dissatisfied with the conduct
of John, the prefictus prcetorio, and of Tribonianus, then
VOL. VII.
281
questor, forced Hypatius, nephew of the emperor Anasta- Constan-
sius, to accept the empire, and proclaimed him with greatffnoP0htan
solemnity in the forum. As the above-mentioned mi- history-
msters were greatly abhorred by the populace on account
of then avarice, Justinian immediately discharged them,
hoping by that means to appease the tumult; but this
was so far from answering the purpose, that the multitude
only grew the more outrageous ; and most of the senators
joining them, the emperor became so much alarmed that
he had thoughts of abandoning the city and making his
escape by sea. In this dilemma the Empress Theodora
encouraged and persuaded him rather to part with his
life than with his kingdom ; and he at last resolved to de¬
fend himself to the utmost, with the few senators who had
not yet abandoned him. In the mean time, the rebels hav¬
ing attempted in vain to force the gates of the palace, car¬
ried Hypatius in triumph to the circus, where, whilst he
was beholding the sports from the imperial throne, amidst
the shouts and acclamations of the people, Belisarius, who
had been recalled from Persia, entered the city with a
considerable body of troops. Being then apprised of the
usurpation of Hypatius, he marched straight to the circus,
fell sword in hand upon the disarmed multitude, and with
the assistance of a band of Heruli, headed by Mundus,
governor of Illyricum, cut about thirty thousand of them in
pieces. Hypatius the usurper, and Pompeius, another of
the nephews of Anastasius, were taken prisoners and car¬
ried to the emperor, by whose orders they were both be¬
headed, and their bodies cast into the sea. Their estates
were confiscated, and likewise the estates of such senators
as had joined Avith them ; but the emperor caused great part
of their lands and effects to be afterwards restored to their
children, together with their honours and dignities.
Justinian having now no other enemy to contend with,
turned his arms against the Vandals in Africa, and the
Goths in Italy, both of which provinces he recovered out of
the hands of the barbarians. But before his general Beli¬
sarius had time to establish fully the Roman power in
Italy, he Avas recalled in order to carry on the war against
Cosrhoes, king of Persia, who, in defiance of the treaty
concluded in 532, had entered the Roman dominions at the
head of a powerful army. The same year, hoAvever, a peace
Avas concluded between the Iavo nations, upon the condi¬
tions that the Romans should, within two months, pay to
the Persian king five thousand pounds Aveight of gold, and
an annual pension of five hundred ; that the Persians should
relinquish all claim to the fortress of Daras, and maintain
a body of troops to guard the Caspian gates, and prevent
the barbarians from breaking into the empire; and that
upon payment of the above-mentioned sum, Cosrhoes should
immediately withdraw his troops from the Roman domi¬
nions. The treaty being signed, and the stipulated sum
paid, Cosrhoes began to march back again ; but on the
way he plundered several cities, as if the Avar had still con¬
tinued. Justinian therefore resolved to pursue the Avar
Avith the utmost vigour, and for this purpose dispatched
Belisarius into the East. But soon afterwards he was
obliged to recal him in order to oppose the Goths, avIio
after his departure had gained great advantages in Italy.
The Persian Avar Avas then carried on with indifferent suc¬
cess till the year 558, when a peace was concluded upon
the emperor again paying an immense sum to the enemy.
The same year the Huns, having passed the Danube in the
depth of winter, marched in two bodies directly for Con¬
stantinople, and laying waste the countries through which
they passed, came, without meeting the least opposition,
within a shor distance of the city. But Belisarius having
marched out against them with a handful of men, put them
to flight. The emperor, however, in order to prevent them
from invading the empire aneAA', agreed to pay them an
2 N
282
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
Constan- annual tribute, upon their promising to defend the empire
tinopolitan against all other barbarians, and to serve in the Roman
History. armies when required. This was the last exploit perform-
ed by Belisarius, wrho on his return to Constantinople was
disgraced, stripped of all his employments, and confined
to his house, on pretence of a conspiracy against the empe¬
ror. In the year 565 a real conspiracy was formed against
Justinian, which he happily escaped, and the conspirators
w'ere executed; but the emperor did not long survive it,
being carried off by a natural death in 566, in the thn ty-
ninth year of his reign.
During the reign of Justinian, the majesty of the Ro¬
man empire seemed in some measure to revive. He ic-
covered the provinces of Italy and Africa from the hands
of the barbarians, by whom they had been held foi a num¬
ber of years; but soon after his death they were lost to
the empire, which now tended fast to dissolution. In
569 Italy was conquered by the Lombards, who held it
for the space of two hundred years. Some amends, how¬
ever, was made for the loss by the acquisition of Persar-
menia, the inhabitants of which, being persecuted by the
Persians on account of the Christian religion, which they
professed, revolted to the Romans. This produced a
war between the two nations, who continued to weaken
each other, till at last the Persian monarchy was utterly
overthrown, and that of the Romans greatly reduced, by
the Saracens. These new enemies attacked the Romans
in the year 632, and pursued their conquests with incre¬
dible rapidity. In the space of four years they reduced
the provinces of Egypt, Syria, and Palestine. In 648 t icy
were also masters of Mesopotamia, Phoenicia, Africa, Cy¬
prus, Aradus, and Rhodes; and having defeated the Ro¬
man fleet commanded by the Emperor Constans in peison,
they concluded a peace on condition of retaining the vast
extent of territory which they had seized, and paying ioi
it a thousand nummi a year.
An expedition against the Lombards was about this time
undertaken, but with very little success ; a body of twenty
thousand Romans having been almost entirely cut off by
one of the Lombard generals. In 671 the Saracens ravaged
several provinces, made a descent on Sicily, took and plun¬
dered the city of Syracuse, and overran the whole island,
destroying every thing with fire and sword. In like man¬
ner they laid waste Cilicia, and having passed the winter
at Smyrna, entered Thrace in the year 672, and laid
siege to Constantinople itself. Here, however, they were
repulsed with great loss; but next spring they renewed
their attempt, in which they met with the same ill suc¬
cess, many of their ships being consumed by the sea-fire,
as it was called, because it burned under water; and in
their return home their fleet was wrecked off the Scyllaean
promontory. At last a peace was concluded for thirty
vears, on condition that the Saracens should retain all the
provinces which they had seized, and that they should
pay the emperor and his successors three thousand pounds
weight of gold, fifty slaves, and as many choice horses.
This peace had scarcely been concluded when the em¬
pire was invaded by a new enemy, who for a long time
proved very troublesome. These were the Bulgarians, who
breaking into Thrace, defeated the Roman army sentagainst
them, and ravaged the country far and wide. The emperor
consented to pay them an annual pension rather than con¬
tinue a doubtful war, and allowed them to settle in Lower
Moesia, which from them was afterwards called Bulgaria.
In 687, they were attacked by Justinian II. who entered
their country without provocation, and in disregard of the
treaties formerly concluded with them. But, having fallen
suddenly upon nim, they drove him out of their countiy,
and obliged him to restore the towns and captives he had
taken. In 697 this emperor was deposed, and in his exile
fled to Trebelis, king of the Bulgarians, by whom he was tyu
kindly entertained, and by whose means he was restored toting
his throne ; but soon forgetting this favour, he invaded the
country of the Bulgarians, with a design of wresting from'"*
them those provinces which he had yielded to them. In
this expedition, however, he was attended by no better
success than his ingratitude deserved, his army being utter¬
ly defeated, and he himself obliged to make his escape in
a light vessel to Constantinople. I he Bulgarians continued
their inroads and ravages at different times, generally defeat¬
ing the Romans who ventured to oppose them, till the year
800, the seventh of the reign of Nicephorus, when they
surprised the city of Sardica, in ivlcesia, and put the whole
garrison, consisting of six thousand men, to the sword. The
emperor marched against them with a considerable aimy,
but the enemy retired at his approach, and he, instead of
pursuing them, returned to Constantinople. Two years
afterwards he entered Bulgaria at the head of a powerful
army, destroying every thing with fire and sword. The
king offered to conclude a peace with him upon honourable
terms; but Nicephorus, rejecting his proposals, continued
to waste the country, destroying the cities, and putting all
the inhabitants, without distinction of age or sex, to the
sword. The king was so much affected with these cruelties
which were exercised on his subjects, that he sent a second
embassy to Nicephorus, offering to conclude a peace with
him upon any terms, provided he would quit his country.
But Nicephorus having dismissed the ambassadors with
scorn, the Bulgarian monarch unexpectedly attacked the
Roman camp, forced it, and cut off almost the whole army,
with the emperor himself, and a great number of patricians.
His successor Michael likewise engaged in a wai with the
Bulgarians ; but being utterly defeated, he was so grieved
that he resigned the empire. After this the Bulgarians
continued to be formidable enemies of the empire till the
year 979, when they were attacked by Basilius II. The
Bulgarians were at that time governed by a king named
Samuel, who ravaged the Roman territories, as was the
common practice of his nation; upon which Basilius sent
against him one Nicephorus Uranus, at the head of a power¬
ful army. Uranus, leaving his baggage at Larissa, reached
the Sperchius by forced marches, and encamped with his
whole army opposite the enemy, who lay on the other
bank. As the river was greatly swelled with heavy rains
which had lately fallen, Samuel, not imagining the Ro¬
mans would attempt to pass it, suffered his troops to roam
in large parties about the country in quest of booty, put
Uranus having at length found out a place wheie the river
was fordable, passed it in the dead of the night without
being perceived. He then fell upon the Bulgarians who
remained in the camp, and lay for the most part asleep;
cut a great number of them in pieces; took many pri¬
soners, with all their baggage, and made himself master ot
their camp. Samuel and his son were dangerously wound¬
ed, and would have been taken had not they all that day
concealed themselves among the dead.^ The next night
they stole away to the mountains of iEtolia, and thence
made their escape into Bulgaria. The following year
the emperor entered Bulgaria at the head of a numeious
and well-disciplined army, defeated Samuel in a pitched
battle, and took several strong cities. The emperor him¬
self, however, at last narrowly escaped being cut oil with
his whole army, being unexpectedly attacked by the mi-
garians in a narrow pass. From this clanger ie wa
relieved by the arrival of Nicephorus Xiphias, governor
of Philippopolis, with a considerable number of troops,
who, falling upon the enemy’s rear, put them to high •
Basilius pursued them closely, and having taken an in¬
credible number of prisoners, caused their eyes o
pulled out, leaving to every hundred a guide with on
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
. eye, that he might conduct them to Samuel. This shock-
ining spectacle so affected the unhappy king, that he fell
• into a deep swoon, and died two days afterwards. The
^ Roman emperor pursued his conquests, and in the space
of two years made himself master of most of the enemy’s
strongholds. He also defeated the successor of Samuel
in several engagements; and having at last killed him in
battle, the Bulgarians submitted themselves without re¬
serve. The vast treasures of their princes were by Basi-
lius distributed among his soldiersby way of donative. Soon
afterwards the widow of the late king, with her six daugh¬
ters and three of her sons, surrendered themselves to the
Roman emperor, by whom they were received with the
utmost civility and respect. This obliging behaviour en¬
couraged the three other sons of the late king, and most
of the princes of the blood, who had taken shelter in the
mountains, to submit, and throw themselves on the empe¬
ror’s clemency.
Ibatzes, however, a person nearly allied to the royal
family, who had distinguished himself during the whole
course of the war, refused to submit, and fled to a steep
and craggy mountain, with the design of defending him¬
self there to the last^ extremity. Basilius endeavoured to
induce him to submit by fair means; but he equally de¬
spised both threats and promises. At last Eustathius
Daphnomelus, whom Basilius had lately appointed go¬
vernor of Achridus, the chief city of Bulgaria, undertook
to seize him. Without communicating his design to any,
he repaired, with two persons in whom he could confide,
to the mountain on which Ibatzes had fortified himself,
hoping to pass undiscovered among the many strangers
who flocked thither to celebrate the approaching feast of
the Virgin Mary, for whom Ibatzes had a particular vene¬
ration. In this, however, he found himself mistaken ; for
he was discovered by the guards, and carried before the
prince, do the latter he pretended to have something of
importance to communicate; but as soon as Ibatzes had
retired with him into a remote place, Daphnomelus threw
himself suddenly upon him, and with the assistance of the
two men whom he had brought with him, pulled out both
his eyes, and got safely to an abandoned castle on the top
of the hill. Here they were immediately surrounded by
the troops of Ibatzes; but Daphnomelus exhorting them
now to submit to the emperor, by whom he assured them
they would be well received, they congratulated Daph¬
nomelus on his success, and suffered him to conduct the
unhappy Ibatzes a prisoner to Basilius. The emperor was
no less surprised than pleased at the success of this bold
attempt, and rewarded Daphnomelus with the govern¬
ment of Dyrrhachium, and all the rich moveables of his
prisoner. After this, having accomplished the entire re¬
duction of Bulgaria, he returned with an incredible num¬
ber of captives to Constantinople, where he was received
by the senate and people with all possible demonstrations
ofjoy-.
During this time the Saracens had at intervals invaded
the Roman dominions, and even attempted to make them¬
selves masters of Constantinople. Their internal divisions,
lowever, rendered them now much less formidable enemies
t lan they had formerly been ; so that some provinces were
even recovered for a time out of their hands, though the
weak and distracted state of the empire rendered it im¬
possible to preserve such conquests. In 1041, the empire
was invaded by an enemy, not very powerful at that time,
indeed, but who by degrees gathered strength sufficient to
overthrow both the Roman and Saracen empires. These
were the Turks, who, having quitted their ancient habita-
•ons in the neighbourhood of Mount Caucasus, and pass-
c the Caspian Straits, settled in Armenia Major about
10 year 844. There they continued, an unknown and de-
2g3
Peo^e’ .^le intestine wars of the Saracens gave Constan
the year 1030 °f ag§rai?dizing themselves. About tinopolitan
of Pprsi'i nnf f; 1Ioharr!med>the son of Sambrael, sultan History.
Bohvlnn Y finidin§ nmself a match for pisaris’ Sldtan of1 
BabyJon, with whom he was at war, had recourse to the
momf’nf T Sent rm 1 lref th1?usand rnen5 under the com¬
mand of 1 angrohpix, a leading man among them. By
their assistance, Mohammed defeated his adversary; but
when the lurks desired leave to return home, he refused
to part with them. Upon this they withdrew without his
consent to a neighbouring desert; and there being joined
by several discontented Persians, began to make frequent
inroads into the sultan’s territories. Mohammed imme¬
diately dispatched against them an army of twenty thou¬
sand men, who being surprised in the night, were utterly
defeated by fangrolipix. The fame of this victory drew
multitudes from all parts to his standard ; so that in a short
time Tangrolipix saw himself at the head of fifty thou¬
sand men. Upon this, Mohammed marched against them
in person, but was thrown from his horse in the beginning
of the engagement, and killed by the fall; upon which
his men threw down their arms, and submitted to Tan-
grohpix.
Aftei this victory', the Turkish general made war upon
the sultan of Babylon, whom he at length slew, and an¬
nexed his dominions to his own. He then sent his nephew,
named Cutlu-Moses, against the Arabians; but he was de¬
feated by them, and forced to fly towards Media. But he
was denied a passage through this province by Stephen,
the Roman governor; upon which Cutlu-Moses was obliged
to force his way, by encountering the Roman army. These
he put to flight, took the governor himself prisoner, and
without any further opposition reached the confines of Per¬
sia, where he sold Stephen as a slave. Returning thence
to Tangrolipix, he excused, in the best manner he could,
his defeat by the Arabians; but at the same time acquaint¬
ed him with his victory over the Romans in Media, encou¬
raging him to invade that fertile country, which he said
might be easily conquered, as it was inhabited by none but
women, meaning thereby the Romans. At that time Tan¬
grolipix did not hearken to his advice, but marched against
the Arabians at the head of a numerous army. He was,
however, attended with no better success than his nephew
had been, and therefore began to reflect on what the latter
had told him. Soon afterwards he sent Asan, his brother’s
son, with an army of twenty thousand men, to reduce Me¬
dia ; and, pursuant to his orders, the young prince entered
that country, and committed everywhere dreadful ra-
vages; but being in the end drawn into an ambuscade by
the Roman generals, he was cut off with his whole army,
langrolipix, nowise discouraged by this misfortune, sent
a new army into Media, nearly one hundred thousand
strong, which, after having ravaged the country without
opposition, laid siege to Artza, a place of great trade, and
reckoned the most wealthy in those parts. But not being
able to reduce it by any other means, they set it on fire,
and thus in a short time it was utterly destroyed; the
buildings being reduced to ashes, while one hundred and
fifty thousand of the inhabitants perished either by the
flames or the sword. After this Abraham Halim, brother
to Tangrolipix, hearing that the Romans, reinforced with
a body of troops under the command of Liparites, governor
of Iberia, had taken the field, marched against them and
offered them battle, which they accepted. The two armies
engaged with incredible fury, and the victory continued
long doubtful, but at length inclined to the Romans, who
nevertheless did not think proper to pursue the fugitives,
as their general Liparites had been taken prisoner. The
emperor, greatly concerned for the captivity of Liparites,
dispatched ambassadors with rich presents, and a large
284
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
- • i  tn rpvnlt and
i *• Q tr> inflnrp the people to revolt and choose a new emperor. Const;)
Constan- sum of money to redeem him, and at the same tme to aware of> and therefore determined loth-,
tinopolitan conclude an alliance with 1 angrohpix. 1 he nrevent the evils which threatened herself and her family, Mv
History. ceived the presents, but generously returned them, hoge- p ^ gome n of merit? capable of defeating W,
^   ther with the money, to Liparites, whom he set at liberty y J J h [ home an(i abroad. At this time one
without ransom, only requiring him at his departure to a person of a beautiful form, extra¬
promise never more to bear arms against the l urks* Z™1 ,• partf and illustrious birth, being accused of
long afterwards, Tangrglipix sent a person of great au- y ^ tbe empire> tried, and convicted, was brought
thority among the Turks, in the capacity of ambassatlo , f t^receive sentence of death ; but the empress, touch-
to Constantinople ; but he having arrogantly exhorteat , with compassi0n at his appearance, gently upbraided
emperor to submit to his master, and acknowledge mmse ^ ^ hig ambitionj set him at liberty, and soon after-
his tributary, was ignominiously driven out ot tne c y wards pointed him commander-in-chief of all her forces.
Tangrolipix, highly affronted at the reception wl c ^ this P/ation he acquitted himself so well, that the em-
ambassador had met with, entered Iberia while the em resoived to marry him, if she could but recover the
peror Constantine Monomachus was engage! m a 1^.. bicb contained her oath, out of the hands of the
with the Patzinacae, a Scythian nation. Having ravage In order to this, she applied to a favourite eu-
that country, he returned thence to- Media, and laid P ^ wbo bavin repaired to the patriarch, told him that
to Mantzichierta, a place defended by a numerous a ^ em was s0 taken with his nephew named Bardass,
son, and fortified by a triple wall and de.efJl\C^’^°he tbat she was determined to marry and raise him to the
ever, as it was situated m an open and le^ empire, provided the patriarch absolved her from the oath
hoped to be master of it n a short ^e. But finding the empM ^ had taken/and convinced the senate of the law-
besieged determined to defend themselves to the last e ^ hcr marriage. The patriarch, dazzled with the
tremity, he resolved to raise the siege, after he had co f j j nephew’s promotion, readily undertook to
tinuea^it ft. thirty days. One of h.s officer^ howevev P^botirHe'first obtained tht comont of the
named Alcan, prevailed on him to persevere one daylong , P senti t0 them the dangerous state of the era-
and to commit the management of the attacks to him- 1 7 exclaimin against the rash oath which the jea-
being granted, Alcan disposed his men with such skill, and P > ^ ^ eaiperor had extorted from the empress,
so encouraged them by his example, 1 ]f > He then publicly discharged her from it, restored the wnt-
the vigorous opposition they met with, the place wouiu r .ulll-gxhortea her to marry some deserving per-
have probably been taken, had not Alcan been skm as he ^ intmsted with absolute authority, might be
was mounting the wall. The besieged, knowing him by > of defending the empire. The empress, thus dis-
the richness of his armour, drew him by the hair into the j l oatb, married a few days afterwards
city, and cutting offhis head, threw it over the wall amo gs^ STogenes, who was thereupon proclaimed em-
the enemy; a circumstance which so disheartened them ^ ^ tbe crievous disappointment of the patriarch,
that they gave over the assault and Ahe next p A ’tbe new ror was a man of great activity and ex-
spring Tangrolipix returned, and ravaged Ibena with e ^ in war} [ie n0 sooner saw himself vested with he
utmost cruelty, sparing neither aSe XTr< " s°Vjv- sovereign power, than he took upon him the command of
approach of the Roman army he retired to lain is. leav J= and .)assed over into Asia with the few forces
ing thirty thousand men behind him, with orders to m e could’assemble, recruiting and training them on his
the frontiers of the empire. This they did with great sue- he could assem « hich hod belin utterly ne-
cess, the borders being through the aval ice of Monoma in the preceding reigns. On his arrival m that
elms left unguarded. Till the time of this emperor, the be wag informed that the Turks had surprised
provinces bordering on the countries of the barbauans had ^ tbe city 0f Neocmsarea, and were retiring
maintained, at their own charge, forces to defend the , ^ ^ boo 0lf tbis news be hastened after them
and were on that account exempted from payin tnbute tl 1 d f J b n body 0f light-armed troops, and
but as Monomachus had exacted from them the same tbem on the tlfird day. As the Turks were
sums which were paid by others, they were no longer c in disorder> without the least apprehension of
condition to defend themselves. _ • „n enemv Uomanus cut great numbers of them in pieces,
In 1062 died the emperor Constantine Ducas, having recoyered the booty; he then pursued his
left the empire to his three sons, Michael, Andion c , b t p0 which he retook, together with Hiera-
and Constantine ; but as they were all very young, heap. “a epp & gtrong castle>
pointed the empress Eudocia regent during their mmo 36 P ’ bg wag returning to join the forces he had left be-
after having required of her an oath never to man), w nc ^ be wag met by a numerous body of Turks, who at-
oath was with great solemnity lodged in the hands o t ’ted to cut off his retreat. At first he pretended to
patriarch. He likewise obliged the senatois solemnly to P £ ^ en(Ta(Tement through fear; but afterwards at-
swear that they would acknowledge none for their sove- tbem ^itb guch vig0Ur, when they least expected it,
reign but his three sons. No sooner was he dead, howe , j t0 fl; ht at the first onset, and might have
than the Turks, hearing that the empire was governed by that be I t 1 ^ vict&0 bad he thought proper to pursue
a woman, broke into Mesopotamia, Cilicia, and Cappadocia, ^ P1 1 > submitted to him; but the
destroying all with fire and sword. The empress was no- hem After seve ^ returned t0 Con-
wise in a condition to oppose them, the greater part of the S Tbe f0n0wing year he passed over into Asia
army having been disbanded in her husband s lifetime, and stantinop . » J informed that the Turks had
the Lops that were still on foot being undisciplined and besides gaining otherco,
altogether unfit for service. The concern which this gave d a/e he marched in person against them;
the empress was aggravated by the seditious speeches of f Yur^nofthinking it advisable to wait his arrival,
a discontented party at home, who repeated on a oc • d b ( t baste. The Armenians Wpver. eneou-
sion, tl,at thepresentstate ofa^iured a of tiie emperor
present state of ^Wired a man of ^tmecim peat nastm --Armenmns,
courage and address at the helm, instead of a weak a a } 11 , • op rparsus pUt them to flight) an^
helpless woman ; and as they imagined that the empress ^ mmmy I . b age andof the booty which they
woild never think of marrying, in consequence of the oath the emperor once more
which she had taken, they hoped by these speeches to had taken, lire spring g, tr
|
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY. 285
entered Asia at the head of a considerable army which lie
w had raised, and with incredible pains disciplined, during
hsti K the winter. When the two armies approached each
r other, Axan, the Turkish sultan, and son of the famous
Tan^rolipix, sent proposals to Romanus tor a lasting and
honourable peace. These were imprudently rejected, and
a desperate engagement ensued, when, in spite of the
utmost efforts of the emperor, his army was routed, and
he himself wounded and taken prisoner. When this news
was brought to Axan, he could scarcely believe it; but
beiDg convinced by the appearance of the royal captive in
his presence, he tenderly embraced him, and addressed
him in an affectionate manner: “ Grieve not,” said he,
“ most noble emperor, at your misfortune ; for such is the
chance of war, sometimes overwhelming one, and some¬
times another. You shall have no occasion to complain of
your captivity; for I will not use you as my prisoner, but
as an emperor.” The Turk was as good as his word; he
lodged the emperor in a royal .pavilion, assigned him at¬
tendants, with an equipage suitable to his quality, and dis¬
charged such prisoners as he desired. After he had for
some days entertained his royal captive with extraordinary
mao-nificence, a perpetual peace was concluded betwixt
them, and the emperor dismissed with the greatest marks
of honour imaginable. He then set out with the Turkish
ambassador for Constantinople, where the peace was to be
ratified; but by the way he was informed that Eudocia
had been driven from the throne by John, the brother of
Constantine Ducas, and Psellus, a leading man in the se¬
nate, who had confined her to a monastery, and proclaim¬
ed her eldest son, Michael Ducas, emperor. On this in¬
telligence, Romanus retired to a strong castle near Theo-
dosiopolis, where he hoped in a short time to be joined by
great numbers of his friends and adherents. But in the
mean time John, who had taken upon him to act as guar¬
dian to the young prince, dispatched Andronicus with a
considerable army against him. Andronicus having easily
defeated the small army which Romanus had with him,
obliged him to fly to Adana, a city in Cilicia, where he
was closely besieged, and at last obliged to surrender.
Andronicus carried his prisoner into Phrygia, where he
fell dangerously ill, being, as was suspected,_ secretly poi¬
soned. But the poison being too slow in its operation,
John ordered his eyes to be put out, which was performed
with such cruelty that he died soon afterwards, in the year
1067, having reigned three years and eight months.
Axan was no sooner informed of the tragical end of his
friend and ally, than he resolved to invade the empire
anew, and that not with a design to plunder as formerly,
but to conquer, and to keep what he had once conquered.
The emperor dispatched against him Isaac Comnenus
with a considerable army; but he was utterly defeated
and taken prisoner by Axan. Another army was quick¬
ly sent off under the command of John Ducas, the empe¬
ror’s uncle, who at first gained some advantages, and would
probably have put a stop to their conquests, had not one
lluselius, or Urselius, revolted with the troops he had un¬
der his command, caused himself to be proclaimed empe¬
ror, and reduced several cities in Phrygia and Cappadocia.
John marched against him with all his forces, suffering
the Turks in the mean time to pursue their conquests ; but
coming to an engagement with the rebels, his army was
entirely defeated, and himself taken prisoner. Notwith¬
standing this victory, Ruselius was so much alarmed at
the progress of the Turks, that he not only released his
prisoner, but joined him against the common enemy,
by whom they were both defeated and taken prisoners.
Axan, however, was for some time prevented from pursu¬
ing his conquest, by Cutlu-Moses, nephew to the late lan-
grolipix. The latter had revolted against his uncle; but
being defeated by him in a pitched battle, had taken re- Constan-
fuge in Arabia, whence he now returned at the head of a tinoP°htau
considerable army, in order to dispute the sovereignty Histor.v-
wdth Axan. But whilst the two armies were preparing
to engage, the caliph of Babylon, who was still looked
upon as the successor of the Prophet, interposed his au¬
thority. He represented the dangers of their intestine dis¬
sensions ; and by his mediation an agreement was at last
concluded, on condition that Axan should enjoy undisturb¬
ed the monarchy lately left him by his father, and Cutlu-
Moses should possess such provinces of the Roman em¬
pire as he or his sons should in process of time conquer.
After this agreement both the Turkish princes turned
their forces against the empire, and before the year 1077
made themselves masters of all Media, Lycaonia, Cappa¬
docia, and Bithynia, fixing the capital city of their empire
at Nice, in the latter province. During this time the em¬
perors of Constantinople, as well as their subjects, seem¬
ed to be in a manner infatuated. No notice was taken of
the great progress made by these barbarians. The gene¬
rals were ambitious only of seizing the tottering empire,
which seemed ready to become a prey to the Turks ; and
after it had been obtained, they spent their time in op¬
pressing their subjects, rather than in making any attempts
to repulse the enemy.
At last Alexius Comnenus, having wrested the empire
from Nicephorus Botoniates in 1077, began to prepare for
opposing so formidable an enemy. But before he set out,
as his soldiers had committed great outrages on his acces¬
sion to the empire, he resolved to make confession of his
sins, and do open penance for those which he had suffered
his army to commit. Accordingly he appeared in the at¬
tire of a penitent before the patriarch and several other
ecclesiastics; acknowledged himself guilty of the many
disorders which had been committed by his soldiers; and
begged of the patriarch to impose upon him a penance suit¬
able to the greatness of his crimes. The penance enjoined
him and his adherents by the patriarch was to fast, lie upon
the ground, and practise several other austerities for the
space of forty days. This command wais religiously obey¬
ed, and the emperor then began to prepare for war with
so much vigour, that Solyman, the Turkish sultan, son
and successor to Cutlu-Moses, dispatched ambassadors to
Alexius with proposals of peace. These were at first
rejected ; but the emperor was at last glad to accept them,
on receiving certain advices that Robert Guischard, duke
of Puglia and Calabria, was making great preparations
against him in the West.
To this expedition Robert was incited by Michael Du¬
cas. That prince had been deposed by Nicephorus Boto¬
niates, and towards the end of the usurper’s reign fled into
the west, where he was received by Robert, who was pre¬
vailed upon to favour his cause. For this purpose Robert
made great preparations ; and these were continued even
after the deposition of Botoniates. He sailed with all his
forces from Brundusium, and landing at Buthrotum, in
Epirus, made himself master of that place; whilst his son
Bohemond with part of the army reduced Aulon, a cele¬
brated port and city in the country now called Albania.
From this they advanced to Dyrrhachium, which they in¬
vested both by sea and land ; but met with a most vigor¬
ous opposition from George Palaeologus, whom the empe¬
ror had intrusted with the defence of that important place.
In spite of the utmost efforts of the enemy, this command¬
er held out till the arrival of the Venetian fleet, by which
Robert’s navy, commanded by Bohemond, was utterly de¬
feated, and the admiral himself narrowly escaped being
taken prisoner. After the victory the Venetians landed
without loss of time, and being joined by Palaeologus s
men, fell upon Robert’s troops with such fury that they de-
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY
286
Constan- stroyed their works, burnt their engines, and forced them
tinopolitan retreat to their camp in great disorder. As the Venetians
were now masters at sea, the besieged were supplied with
plenty of provisions, whilst a famine began to rage in the
camp of the enemy; and this calamity was soon followed
by a plague, which is said to have destroyed ten thousand
men in the space of three months,. Notwithstanding all
these disasters, however, Robert did not abandon the siege.
Having found means to supply his famished troops with pro¬
visions, he continued it with such vigour that the courage
of the besieged began at last to fail them, and Palseologus
sent repeated messages to the emperor, acquainting him
that he would be obliged to surrender unless very speed¬
ily relieved. On this Alexius marched in person to the
relief of the city, but was defeated with great loss by Ro¬
bert. The whole right wing of Alexius’s army, finding
themselves hard pressed by the enemy, fled to a church
dedicated to St Michael, imagining that they would there
find themselves in a place of safety ; but the victorious
army pursuing them, set fire to the church, which was
burnt to ashes with all who were in it. The emperor him¬
self with great difficulty made his escape, leaving the ene¬
my masters of his camp and all his baggage. Soon after
this defeat the city surrendered; and Alexius being des¬
titute of resources for carrying on the war, seized on the
wealth of churches and monasteries, which gave serious
offence to the clergy, and had nearly occasioned great dis¬
turbances in the imperial city. At the same time, Alex¬
ius having entered into an alliance with Henry, emperor of
Germany, persuaded him to invade the dominions of Ro¬
bert in Italy. At first Henry met with great success, but
he was soon overcome and driven out of that country by
Robert. Bohemond, in the mean time, reduced several
places in Illyricum ; and having defeated Alexius in two
pitched battles, entered Thessaly, and sat down before La¬
rissa. But this place, being defended by an officer of great
courage and experience in war, held out till the emperor
came to its relief. Soon after his arrival he found means
to draw a strong party of Bohemond’s men into an ambus¬
cade, and cut them off almost entirely. In the battle which
was fought a few days afterwards, however, Bohemond had
the advantage ; but his troops having mutinied and refused
to carry on the war, he was obliged to return into Italy.
Alexius taking advantage of his absence, recovered several
cities ; and being informed that Robert was making great
preparation against him, he had recourse once more to the
Venetians. By them he was assisted with a powerful fleet,
which defeated that of Robert in two engagements; but
being soon after surprised by him, they were defeated with
the loss of almost their whole navy. Robert is said to have
used his victory with great barbarity, putting many of his
prisoners to death with unheard-of torments. The Vene¬
tians equipped a second fleet, which having joined that of
the emperor, fell unexpectedly upon Robert’s navy, while
riding at anchor, without the least apprehension, in Buth-
rotum, sunk most of his ships, and took a great number of
prisoners, his wife and younger sons having narrowly es¬
caped falling into their hands. Robert made great prepa¬
rations to revenge this defeat, but was prevented by death
from executing his designs ; and after his decease his son
Roger did not think proper to pursue so dangerous and ex¬
pensive a war. He therefore recalled his troops ; and the
places which had been conquered by Robert and Bohe¬
mond submitted anew to the emperor.
This war had scarcely ended, when the Scythians, pass¬
ing the Danube, laid waste great part of Thrace, and com¬
mitted everywhere the greatest barbarities. The emperor
dispatched against them an army under the command of
Pacurianus and Branas. The latter insisted upon engag¬
ing the enemy, contrary to the opinion of his colleague ;
and his rashness caused the loss of the greater part of the •) u J
army, which was cut off by the Scythians, together witht;]|f:
the two generals. Talicius, an officer who had signalized ifl h i
himself on many occasions, was appointed to command the v y
army in their stead; and he fell upon the enemy as they
lay encamped in the neighbourhood of Philippopolis, cut 1
great numbers of them in pieces, and obliged the remain¬
der to retire in great confusion. The following spring, I ]
however, they returned in such numbers that the emperor
resolved to march against them in person. Accordingly
he set out for Adrianople, and thence proceeded to a place
called Lardea. Here, contrary to the advice of his best
officers, he ventured a battle, in which he was utterly de¬
feated with great loss, and himself escaped with the utmost
difficulty. The next year he was attended with no bet¬
ter success, his army being entirely defeated, with the
loss of his camp equipage and baggage. In the year fol- ;
lowing, 1084, the emperor retrieved his credit, and inflict¬
ed on the Scythians such an overthrow that very few escap¬
ed the general slaughter. Notwithstanding this disaster,
however, they again invaded the empire in 1093. To this
they were encouraged by an impostor called Leo, who
pretended to be the eldest son of Romanus Diogenes.
The young prince had been slain in a battle with the
Turks ; but as the Scythians only wanted a pretext for
renewing the war, they received the impostor with joy.
Leo, however, was murdered by stratagem ; and the Scy¬
thians being afterwards overthrown in two great battles,
were obliged to submit on the emperor’s own terms.
Since the year 1083, the war had been carried on against
the Turks with various success; but now an association
against these infidels was formed in the West, and threa¬
tened the utter ruin of the Turkish nation. This was occa¬
sioned by the superstition of the Christians, who thought
it a meritorious action to venture their lives for the reco¬
very of the Holy Land, at that time possessed by the Turks
and Saracens. Had the western princes been properly as¬
sisted by the emperors of the East in this undertaking, the
Turks undoubtedly would have been unable to resist them;
but so far from this, the Latins were looked upon by them
as not less enemies than the Turks ; and indeed whatever
places they took from the infidels, they never thought of
restoring to the emperors of Constantinople, to whom they
originally belonged, but erected a number of small inde¬
pendent principalities, which neither having sufficient
strength to defend themselves, nor being properly sup¬
ported by one another, soon became a prey to the Turks.
In the year 1203 happened a dreadful fire at Constanti¬
nople, occasioned by some Latin soldiers. These men hav¬
ing plundered a mosque which the Turks residing in Con¬
stantinople had been suffered to build there, they were
attacked by the infidels; and the latter being much su¬
perior in number, the Latins found themselves obliged to
set fire to some houses, in order to cover their retreat.
The flames spread in an instant from street to street, and
in a short time reduced great part of the city to ashes, with
the capacious storehouses which had been built at a vast
expense on the quay. The emperor Isaac Angelus, who
had been restored to his throne by the Latins, died soon
after their departure from Constantinople, leaving his son
Alexius sole master of the empire. The young prince, in
order to discharge the large sums he had promised the
French and Venetians for their assistance, was obliged to
impose heavy taxes on his subjects ; a circumstance which,
with the great esteem and friendship which he showed
towards his deliverers, raised a general discontent among
the people of Constantinople, who were sworn enemies of
the Latins. This encouraged John Ducas, surnamed
Murtzuphlus, from his joined and thick eyebrows, to at¬
tempt the sovereignty. Unhappily he found means to put
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
287
his treacherous designs in execution, and strangled the
| young prince with his own hands. After this he present-
|gd himself to the people ; told them what he had done,
] pretending that it was in order to secure their liberties;
and earnestly entreated them to choose an emperor who
ihad courage enough to defend them against the Latins,
who were ready to oppress and enslave them. Upon this
Ihewas instantly saluted emperor by the inconstant multi-
Itude ; but this usurpation proved the ruin of the city. The
ILatins immediately resolved to revenge the death of the
young prince; and, as they had been so often betrayed
and retarded in their expeditions to the Holy Land by the
i emperors of Constantinople, they also determined to make
Themselves masters of that city, and seize the empire for
Themselves. In consequence of this resolution they muster¬
ed their forces in Asia, and having crossed the straits, laid
siege to Constantinople both by sea and land. The tyrant,
who was a man of great courage and experience in war,
made a vigorous defence. The Latins, however, after hav¬
ing battered the walls for several days together with an
incredible number of engines, gave a general assault on
the 8th of April 120L The attack lasted from break of
day till three in the afternoon, when they were forced to
retire, after having lost some of their engines and a great
number of men. The assault was nevertheless renewed
four days subsequently to this; when, after a warm contest,
the French planted their standard on one of the towers;
which the Venetians having observed, quickly made them¬
selves masters of four other towers, where they likewise
displayed their ensigns. In the mean time three of the
gates being broken down by the battering rams, and those
who had scaled the walls having killed the guards, and
opened the gates between the towers they had taken, the
whole army entered, and drew up in battle array between
the walls. The Greeks fled in the greatest confusion ;
and several parties were dispatched by the Latins to scour
the streets, and put all they met to the sword, without
distinction of age or condition. Night alone put a stop to
the carnage, when the princes sounding the retreat, placed
their men in different quarters of the city, with orders to
be upon their guard, not doubting that they would be at¬
tacked early next morning. They were surprised, how¬
ever, by the entire submission of the Greeks, to whom they
promised their lives, but at the same time ordered them to
retire to their houses; upon which they gave up the city
to be plundered by the soldiers for that day. They strictly
enjoined their men to abstain from slaughter, to preserve
the honour of the women, and to bring the whole booty
into one place, that a just distribution might be made,
according to the rank and merit of each individual. The
Greeks had undoubtedly concealed their most valuable
effects during the night; many persons of the highest
' rank had escaped, carrying along with them immense
treasures; and the soldiers, as is usual in all such cases,
had probably reserved things of great value for themselves,
notwithstanding all prohibitions to the contrary; yet the
booty, exclusively of statues, pictures, and jewels, amount¬
ed to a sum almost incredible. As for Murtzuphlus, he
made his escape in the night; having embarked in a small
vessel with Euphrosyne, the wife of Alexius Angelus, a
late usurper, and her daughter Eudoxia, for whose sake
he had abandoned his lawful wife.
Constantinople continued subject to the Latins until the
year 1261, when they were expelled by one Alexius Stra-
tegopulus. He was a person of an illustrious family, and,
on account of his eminent services, distinguished by the title
of Caesar. He had been sent against Alexius Angelus, des¬
pot of Epirus, who now attempted to recover some places
m Ihessaly and Greece from Michael Palaeologus, one of
the Greek emperors, who, since the capture of Constanti¬
nople, had kept their court at Nice ; and also to try whe- ^ t
ther on his march he could surprise the imperial city it-tinopolitan
self. Alexius, having passed the straits, encamped at Rhe- History,
gium, where he was informed by the natives that a strong
body of the Latins had been sent to the siege of Daphnusa,
that the garrison was in great want of provisions, and that
it would be no difficult matter to surprise the city. On
receiving this intelligence, the Greek general resolved at
all events to attempt it; and in this he was encouraged
by some of the inhabitants, who, coming privately to his
camp, offered to act as guides to his troops. He approach¬
ed the walls in the dead of the night, which some of his men
scaled without being observed, and, killing the sentries,
whom they found asleep, opened one of the gates to the
rest of the army, when the Greeks rushing in, put all they
met to the sword, and, at the same time, in order to create
greater terror, set fire to the city in four different places.
The Latins, concluding that the enemy’s forces were far
more numerous than they really were, did not so much
as attempt either to drive them out or to extinguish the
flames.
In this general confusion, the emperor Baldwin, quitting
the ensigns of majesty, fled with Justinian, the Latin pa¬
triarch, and some of his intimate friends, to the sea-side;
and there, embarking in a small vessel, he sailed first to Eu¬
boea, and afterwards to Venice, leaving the Greeks in full
possession of Constantinople. When tidings of this surpris¬
ing and altogether unexpected success of Alexius were
first brought to Palaeologus, he could scarcely give credit
to the intelligence ; but having soon afterwards received
letters from Alexius himself, containing a particular ac¬
count of this memorable event, he ordered thanksgivings
to be made in all the churches, appeared in public in his
imperial robes, attended by the nobility in their best ap¬
parel, and ordered couriers to be dispatched with the agree¬
able tidings into all parts of the empire.
Palaeologus having settled his affairs at Nice, soon after¬
wards set out for Constantinople, with the empress, his son
Andronicus, the senate, and nobility, in order to take pos¬
session of the imperial city, and to fix his residence in that
place which had originally been designed for the seat of the
eastern empire. Having passed the straits, he advanced
to the Golden Gate, and continued some days without the
walls, whilst the citizens were busied in making the neces¬
sary preparations to receive him with a magnificence suit¬
able to the occasion. On the day appointed, the golden gate,
which had been long shut up, was opened, and the empe¬
ror having entered it amidst the repeated acclamations of
the multitude, marched on foot to the great palace. He was
preceded by the Bishop of Cyzicus, who carried an image of
the Virgin Mary, supposed to have been made by St Luke,
and followed by all the great officers, nobility, and principal
citizens, pompously dressed. Public thanks were again re¬
turned in the church of St Sophia, at which the emperor
assisted in person, with the clergy, the senate, and nobility.
These exercises were succeeded by all sorts of rejoicings;
after which the emperor carefully surveyed the imperial city.
This survey gre’atly allayed his joy. He saw the stately
palaces and other magnificent buildings of the Roman em¬
perors lying in ruins; the many capacious edifices which
had been erected by his predecessors, at an immense charge,
were destroyed by fire, and other unavoidable accidents
of war; and several streets abandoned b}r the inhabitants,
and choked up with rubbish. These objects gave the em¬
peror no small concern, and kindled in his mind a desire
of restoring the city to its former lustre. In the mean time,
looking upon Alexius as the restorer of his country, he
caused him to be clad in magnificent robes; placed with
his own hand a crown upon his head; ordered him to be
conducted throughout the city in a sort of triumph; de-
288
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
Constan- creed that for a whole year the name of Alexius should
tinopolitan be joined in the public prayers with his own ; and, to per-
History. pet*uate t]ie memory of so great and glorious an action, he
commanded his statue to be erected on a stately pillar of
marble, in front of the church of the apostles. His next
care was to re-people the city, many Greek families having
withdrawn from it while it was occupied by the Latins.
The former were recalled home; while the latter, from
the great trade they carried on, were allowed many va¬
luable privileges, which induced many of them not to le-
move. The Greeks were permitted to live in one of the
most beautiful quarters of the city, to be governed by
their own laws and magistrates, and to trade without pay¬
ing customs or taxes of any kind. Great privileges were
likewise granted to the natives of Venice and Pisa, which
encouraged them to lay aside all thoughts of removing;
and the commerce they carried on proved afterwards highly
advantageous to the state.
It was not long, however, before these regulations were
altered. The emperor being soon atterwards informed that
Baldwin, lately expelled from Constantinople, had married
his daughter to Charles, king of Sicily, and given him, by
way of dovvvy, the imperial city itself, he ordered the Ge¬
noese, who had become very numerous, to remove first to
Heraclia, and afterwards to Galata, where they were per¬
mitted to remain. As for the Pisans and Venetians, who
were not so numerous and wealthy, they were allowed to
continue in the city. Palaeologus, though he had caused
himself to be proclaimed emperor, and was possessed of
absolute sovereignty, was as yet only guardian to the
young emperor John Lascaris, then about twelve years
of age. But having now settled the state, and having
gained the affections of both natives and foreigners, he
began to think of securing himself and his posterity in
the full enjoyment of the empire; and for this purpose he
cruelly ordered the eyes of the young prince to be put
out, pretending that none but himself had any right to
the city or empire of Constantinople, which he alone had
recovered from the hands of the Latin conquerors.
This piece of treachery and inhumanity involved him in
great troubles. The patriarch immediately excommuni¬
cated him ; and he would in all probability have been dri¬
ven from the throne by a combination of the western prin¬
ces, had he not engaged Pope Urban IV. to espouse his
cause, by promising to submit himself and his dominions
to the Latin church. By this means he succeeded in di¬
verting the present storm; but the proceeding itself caused
the greatest disturbances, not only in Constantinople, but
throughout the whole empire : nor was Palmologus able
to reconcile his subjects to this union.
In 1283 Michael died, and was succeeded by his son An-
dronicus, whose first step was to restore the ancient Greek
ceremonies, thinking that he could not begin his reign
with a more popular act. But he thereby involved himself
in greater difficulties than ever; for, although Michael
had not been able fully to reconcile his Greek subjects to
the Latin ceremonies, yet he had in some degree accom¬
plished his object. The Latins having obtained a consi¬
derable footing in the city, defended their ceremonies with
great obstinacy; and the empire was again thrown into a
ferment by this imprudent step.
During this time the Turks had continued their en¬
croachments on the empire, of which, had it not been for
the crusades published against them by the pope, they
would already have, in all probability, made themselves
masters. They were now, however, very successfully
opposed by Constantine, the emperor’s brother; but his
valour rendered him suspected by the emperor, and he
was therefore thrown into prison, along with several per¬
sons of great distinction. On the removal of this brave
commander, the I urks, under the famous Qthoman, made Cons,
themselves masters of several places in I hiygia, Caria, andtinopt
Bithynia, and, among these, of the city of Mice. To put
a stop to their conquests, the emperor dispatched against ''•~v
them Philanthropenus and Libadarius, two officers of great
experience in war. The former gained some advantages
over the enemy, but being elated with his success, caused
himself to be proclaimed emperor. This rebellion, how¬
ever, was soon suppressed, Philanthropenus having been
betrayed by his own men; but the lurks taking advan¬
tage of these intestine commotions, extended their domi¬
nions in Asia, conquered most of the islands in the Me¬
diterranean, and, being masters at sea, infested the coasts
of the empire, to the utter ruin of trade and commerce.
From this time the Roman empire declined fast towards
total dissolution. After the revolt of Philanthropenus, the
emperor could no longer trust his subjects, and therefore
hired the Massagetes to assist him; but the latter, conduct¬
ing themselves in a careless manner, were first defeated by
their enemies, and afterwards turned their arms against
those whom they came to assist. Pie next applied to the
Catalans, who behaved in the same way; and having ra¬
vaged the few places left the emperor in Asia, returned
into Europe, and called the lurks to their assistance.
This happened in the year 1292, and was the first ap¬
pearance of the Turks in Europe. The enterprise, how¬
ever, proved unsuccessful. Having loaded themselves with
booty, they offered to depart quietly if they were allowed
a safe passage, and ships to transport them to Asia, lo
this the emperor, willing to get rid of such troublesome
guests, readily consented, and ordered the vessels to be
got ready with all possible expedition. But the Greek
officers observing the immense booty with which they
were loaded, resolved to fall upon them in the night, and
to cut them off at one blow. This scheme, however, not
having been managed with due secrecy, the Turks received
notice of it, and were therefore prepared for their defence.
They first surprised a strong castle in the neighbourhood,
and then found means to inform their countrymen in Asia
of their dangerous situation. Ihe latter, enticed by the
hope of booty, were not long in coming to their assist¬
ance ; and having crossed the Hellespont in great num¬
bers,'ravaged the adjacent country, making excursions as
far as the gates of Constantinople. At last the emperor
determined to root them out, and accordingly marched
against them with his whole forces, the country people
flocking to him from all quarters. The lurks at first gave
themselves over for lost; but finding the Greeks negligent
of discipline, they attacked their army unexpectedly, utter¬
ly defeated it, and made themselves masters of the camp.
After this unexpected victory, they continued for two
years to ravage Thrace in the most terrible manner. At
last, however, they were defeated; and being afterwards
shut up in the Chersonesus, they were all either cut in
pieces or taken prisoners. _
Soon afterwards, new commotions occurred in the unhap¬
py empire, of which the Turks did not fail to take advan¬
tage. In 1327 they made themselves masters of most ot
the cities on the Mseander, and, among the rest, ot the
strong and important city of Prusa, in Bithynia. ihe
year, however, Othoman, who may justly be styled the
founder of the Turkish monarchy, being now dead, the
emperor seized the opportunity to recover Mice, an some
other important places, from the infidels. But these were
lost the year following, together with Abydus and x ico-
media ; and in 1330 a peace was concluded, upon condition
that the Turks should retain all their conquests. But this
peace they observed no longer than suited their own pin
poses; for new commotions having arisen in the empnG v
pursued their conquests, and by the year 1357 had re uce
Alt
onst
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN history.
all Asia. They next passed the Hellespont under the
iMconduct of Solyman, the son, or, as others allege, the bro¬
ther of Orchane, the successor of Othoman, and seised on
289
P a strong castle on the European side. The Turkish sul¬
tan died soon afterwards, and was succeeded by Amurath,
who extended the conquests of his predecessors, and in a
short time reduced all Thrace, making Adrianople the seat
of his empire. Amurath was slain by treachery a little
time afterwards, and was succeeded by his son Bajazet,
who greatly enlarged his dominions by new conquests.
In a short time he reduced the countries of Thessaly,
Macedonia, Phocis, Peloponnesus, Mysia, and Bulgaria,
driving out the despots or petty princes who ruled there.
Elated with his frequent victories, he began to look upon
the Greek emperor, to whom nothing w as now left but
the city of Constantinople and the neighbouring country,
as his vassal. Accordingly he sent him an arrogant and
haughty message, commanding him to pay a yearly tri¬
bute, and send his son Manuel to attend him in his mili¬
tary expeditions. This demand the emperor was obliged
to comply with, but soon afterwards died, in the year 1392.
Manuel no sooner heard of his father’s death than he
hastened to Constantinople, without taking leave of the
sultan, or acquainting him with the reason of his sudden
departure. Bajazet was so highly offended at this, that
he passed with great expedition out of Bithynia into
Thrace; ravaged the country adjoining to Constantinople,
and at last invested the city itself, both by sea and land.
In this extremity Manuel had recourse to the western prin¬
ces, who sent him an army of a hundred and thirty thou¬
sand men, under the command of Sigismund, king of Hun¬
gary, and John, count of Nevers. But though the western
troops proved at first successful, they were in the end de¬
feated with great slaughter by Bajazet, who then returned to
the siege with greater vigour than ever. As he found, how¬
ever, that the citizens were determined to hold out to the last,
he applied to John, the son of Manuel’s elder brother, who
had a better title to the crown than Manuel himself, w'itli
whom he entered into a private agreement, by virtue of
which Bajazet engaged to place John upon the throne of
Constantinople, wdiile, on the other hand, John consented to
deliverup thecity to the Turks, and remove the imperial city
to Peloponnesus, which the sultan promised to relinquish to
him and his posterity. At the same time he sent deputies
to the inhabitants of Constantinople, offering to withdraw
his army, and cease from further hostilities, provided they
expelled Manuel, and placed John upon the throne. This
proposal rent the city into two factions; but Manuel pre¬
vented the mischiefs which were ready to ensue, by a vo¬
luntary resignation, upon condition that he should be al¬
lowed to retire with his wife and children to any place he
might think proper to fix upon.
John readily complied with this condition, and Manuel
having received him into the city, and conducted him to
the palace, set sail for Venice, and thence proceeded to
the courts of all the western princes, to solicit assistance
against the Turks, whose power had grown formidable to
all Europe. He was everywhere received with the greatest
demonstrations or esteem, and promised large supplies ; for
all Christendom had now become alarmed at the progress
of the infidels.
In the mean time Bajazet did not fail to put John in
mmd of his promise; but the citizens refusing to comply
with so scandalous a treaty, the siege was renewed, and the
city assaulted with more fury than ever. When it was re¬
duced almost to the last extremity, news were brought to
the sultan that Timour,or Tamerlane, the victorious Tartar,
having overrun all the East with incredible celerity, had
turned his arms against the Turks, and was preparing to
break into Syria. Bajazet, alarmed at the danger which
VOL. VII.
threatened him, raised the siege in great haste, and ad- Constan-
vanced against lamerlane with a numerous and well-ap-tinopolitan
pointed army; but the Tartar totally defeated and took History,
nm prisoner, after having cut most of his men in pieces ;r-Y''w'
and thus Constantinople was for the present saved from
destruction.
But this relief proved of short duration. In 1424 the city
was again besieged by Amurath II.; and although the in¬
habitants defended themselves with great bravery, they
must in the end have submitted, had not the emperor pre¬
vailed upon the 11 ince of Garamania to countenance an im¬
postor and pretender to the Turkish throne. This obliged
Amurath to raise the siege, and to march with all his forces
against the usurper, whom he soon overthrew. Having then
no other enemies to contend with, he entered Macedonia
at the head of a powerful army, and having ravaged the
country far and near, he took and plundered Thessalonica,
as he did also most of the cities of iEtolia, Phocis, and
Lceotia. From Greece he marched into Servia, which
country he soon reduced. He next broke into the domi-
nicms of the king of Hungary, and besieged the strong city
of Belgrade ; but here he met with a vigorous repulse, no
fewer than fifteen thousand Turks having been slain by
the Christians in one sally', a circumstance which obliged
the sultan to abandon the enterprise and retire.
In his retreat he was attacked by the celebrated John
Hunniades, who slew great numbers of his men, and ob¬
liged the rest to fly with the utmost precipitation. Not long
afterwards, Hunniades gained a still more complete victory
over the enemy in the plains of Transylvania, with the loss
of only three thousand of his own men, whereas twenty
thousand of the Turks were slain on the field of battle,
and almost an equal number in the pursuit. Amurath,
who was then at Adrianople, sent into Transylvania an
army far more numerous than the former; but they were
attended with no better success, being cut off almost to a
man byr the brave Hungarian. Hunniades gained several
other victories no less remarkable, but was at last entirely
defeated in 1448; and with this defeat ended all hopes
of preserving the Roman empire. The unhappy emperor
was now obliged to pay an annual tribute of three hun¬
dred thousand aspers to the sultan, and to yield up some
strongholds which he still held on the Euxine Sea. How¬
ever, as he doubted not that Amurath would soon attempt
to become master of the city itself, he renewed the union
between the Greek and Latin churches; hoping that this
would induce the western princes to assist him in the
defence of the city against the Turks. This union pro¬
duced great disturbances, which the emperor did not hong
survive, for he died in 1448, leaving the empire, now con¬
fined within the walls of Constantinople, to his brother
Constantine.
Amurath the Turkish sultan died in 1450, and was suc¬
ceeded by his son Mohammed. In the beginning of his
reign the latter entered into an alliance with Constantine,
and pretended a great desire to live in friendship with him
and the other Christian princes; but no sooner had he
put an end to a war in which he was engaged with Ibra¬
him, king of Caramania, than he built a strong fort on the
European side of the Bosphorus, opposite to another in
Asia, in both of which he planted strong garrisons. These
castles commanded the straits ; and the former being only
five miles from the city, kept it in a manner blockaded.
This soon produced a misunderstanding between him
and the emperor, which ended in his laying siege to the
city. The siege commenced on the 6th of April 1453,
Mohammed’s numerous forces covering the plains before
it on the land side, and a fleet of three hundred sail block¬
ading it by sea. The emperor, however, had taken care to
sopiirp flip linvpn. in whic*h wptp three lar^re shins, twenty
 —-I '
secure the haven, in which were three large ships, twenty
2 o
290
CONSTANTINOPOLITAN HISTORY.
Constan- small ones, and a great number of galleys, by means of a
tinopolitan chain drawn across the entrance. Mohammed began the
History. giege planting batteries as near the city as he could,
and raising in several places mounds as high as the walls
themselves, whence the besieged were incessantly galled
with showers of arrows. He had in his camp a piece ot
ordnance of prodigious size, which is said to have carried a
ball of a hundred pounds weight made of hard black stone
brought from the Euxine Sea. With this vast P’ece the
enemy made several breaches in the walls ; which, ho\v-
ever, were repaired with incredible expedition by the be¬
sieged. But Mohammed, in order to carry on the siege
with greater vigour, caused new levies to be made t ioUj, i
out his extensive dominions, by which his army was soon
increased to near four hundred thousand men ; while the
o-arrison consisted only of nine thousand leguai roops,
viz. six thousand Greeks and three thousand Genoese and
Venetians. As the enemy continued to batter the wa s
day and night without intermission, a great part ot them
was at last beaten down ; but whilst the Turks were busy
in filling up the ditch, in order to deliver the assault, a new
wall was constructed. This threw the tyrant into a pro¬
digious rage, which was greatly heightened when he saw
hit whole fleet worsted by five ships, four of which were
laden with corn from Peloponnesus, and the other with
all manner of provisions from the isle of Chios. Ihese
opened themselves a way through the whole lurkish fleet,
and, to the inexpressible joy ot the Christians, at last got
safe into the harbour.
The Turks attempted several times to force the harbour ;
but all their efforts proved ineffectual; upon which Mo¬
hammed formed the design of conveying into it eighty
galleys over land for the space of eighty miles, inis he
accomplished by means of certain engines, the contrivance
of a renegade ; and having either taken or sunk all the
ships in the harbour, he caused a bridge to be built over
it with surprising expedition, by which means the city was
laid open to an assault from that as well as from the other
sides. A general attack was now made ; and Constantine,
aware that he could not long hold out against a mighty
fleet and a numerous army, sent deputies to Moham¬
med, offering to acknowledge himself his vassal, by pay-
in0, him yearly such tribute as he should think proper to
impose, provided he raised the siege and withdiew. The
tyrant answered that he was determined at all events to
become master of the city ; but if the emperor delivered
it up forthwith, he would yield up to him I eloponnesus,
and give other provinces to his brothers, which they might
enjoy peaceably as friends and allies ; but if he held out to
the last extremity, and suffered it to be taken by assault,
he would put him and the whole nobility to the sword,
abandon the city to be plundered by his soldiers, and
carry the inhabitants into captivity.
This condition was rashly rejected by the emperor, who
thereby involved himself and all his subjects in a terrible
calamity. The siege was renewed with more vigour than
ever, and continued till the 25th of May ; when a report
having been spread in the Turkish camp that a mighty
army was advancing in full march to the relief of the city,
under the conduct of the celebrated John Hunniades, the
common soldiers, seized with a panic, began to mutiny, and
pressed Mohammed in a tumultuous manner to break up
the siege; nay, they openly menaced him with death if
he did not immediately abandon the enterprise and re¬
tire from before the city, which they despaired of being
able to reduce before the arrival of the supposed succours.
Mohammed was upon the point of complying with their
demand, when he was advised by Zagan, a lurkish officer
of great intrepidity, and an irreconcilable enemy to the
Christian name, to deliver without loss of time a general
assault; to which, he said, the soldiery, however mutinous, CoK
would not be averse, provided the sultan solemnly promis-tiBo, (
ed to abandon the city to be plundered by them. As this Hifi
advice was best suited to the humour of Mohammed, he
readily embraced it; and caused a proclamation to be pub¬
lished throughout the camp, intimating that he gave up to
his soldiers all the wealth of that opulent city, and re¬
quired for himself only the empty houses.
The desire of plunder soon overcame the panic which
had seized the Turkish army, and they unanimously desir¬
ed to be led on to the attack. Constantine was now sum¬
moned for the last time to deliver up the city, with a pro¬
mise of life and liberty; but to this he answered, that he
had unalterably determined either to defend the city or to
perish with it. The attack began at three in the morning
on Tuesday the 29th of May. The troops first employed (
were those which the sultan valued the least, and he de¬
signed them for no other purpose than to tire out the Chris¬
tians, who made a prodigious havock of that disorderly mul¬
titude. After the carnage had lasted several hours, the
Janizaries and other fresh troops advanced in good order,
and renewed the attack with incredible vigour. The Chris¬
tians, summoning all their courage and resolution, twice re¬
pulsed the enemy ; but becoming at last quite exhausted,
they were no longer able to stand their ground, and the ene¬
my broke into the city in several places. In the mean time,
Justiniani, the commander of the Genoese and a select
body of Greeks, having received two wounds, one in the
thigh and the other in the hand, became so disheartened
that he caused himself to be conveyed to Galata, where he
soon afterwards died of grief. His men, dismayed at the
sudden flight of their general, immediately quitted their
posts and fled in the utmost confusion. However, the
emperor, attended by a few of the most resolute among
the nobility, still kept his post, striving with unparalleled
resolution to oppose the multitude of barbarians that now
broke in from every quarter. But being in the end over¬
powered with numbers, and seeing all his friends lie dead
on the ground, “ What cried he aloud, “ is there no
Christian leftalive to strike off my head ?” He had scarcely
uttered these words, when one of the enemy, not knowing
him, gave him a deep cut across the face with his sabre;
and at the same time, another coming behind him, with
a blow on the back part of his head laid him dead on the
spot which he had so bravely defended. After the death
of the emperor, the few Christians who were left alive
betook themselves to flight; and the Turks meeting with
no further opposition, entered the city, which they filled
with slaughter and blood. They gave no quarter, but put
all they met to the sword, without distinction. Many
thousands took refuge in the church of St Sophia; but
they were all massacred in this asylum by the enraged
barbarians, who, prompted by their natural cruelty,, t e
desire of revenge, and the love ot booty, spared neithei
place nor person. Most of the nobility were, by the sul¬
tan’s orders, cut off, and the rest preserved for purposes
more grievous than death itself. Many of the inhabitants,
among whom were several men of great learning, tound
means to effect their escape while the Turks were busied
in plundering the city, and embarking on board some ships
which were then in the harbour, they arrived safe m Italy ;
where, with the study of the Greek tongue, they revive
the liberal sciences, which had long been neglected in the
West. After the expiration of three days, Mohammed
commanded his soldiers to forbear all further hostilities,
on pain of death ; and then put an end to as cruel a pi age
and massacre as any mentioned in history. The next ay
he made his public and triumphal entry into Constanti¬
nople, ^and chose it as the seat of the Turkish empire,
which it has continued to be ever since.
CON
CON
iDSt
tioi
II
nsu:
’'Y
CONSTELLATION, in Astronomy, a system of stars
seen in the heavens near to one another. Astronomers
not only mark out the stars, but distinguish them by their
h sitUation and position in respect to each other ; and there¬
fore they distribute them into asterisms or constellations,
allowing several stars to make up one constellation ; and,
for the better distinguishing them, they reduce the con¬
stellations to the forms of animals, or give them the names
of those whose memories, in consideration of notable ex¬
ploits, they desired to transmit to future ages.
The division of the stars by images and figures is of
o-reat antiquity, and seems to be as old as astronomy it¬
self; for in the book of Job, which is undoubtedly as old
as the time of Moses, Orion, Arcturus, Mazaroth, and the
Pleiades, are mentioned ; and we meet with the names of
many of the constellations in the writings of the first
poets, Homer and Hesiod. See Astronomy.
CONSTITUTION, in matters of policy, signifies the
form of government established in any country or king-
dom.
Constitution also denotes an ordinance, decision, re¬
gulation, or law, made by authority of any superior, eccle¬
siastical or civil.
Apostolical Constitutions, a collection of regulations
attributed to the apostles, and supposed to have been col¬
lected by St Clement, whose name they likewise bear.
It is the general opinion, however, that these Constitu¬
tions are spurious, and that St Clement had no hand in fram¬
ing them. They appeared first in the fourth century ; but
they have been much changed and corrupted since that
time. They are divided into eight books, consisting of a
great number of rules and precepts, relating to the duties
of Christians, and particularly to the ceremonies and dis¬
cipline of the church. Whiston, in opposition to the general
opinion, asserts that they are a part of the sacred writings,
dictated by the apostles at their meetings, and written
down from their own mouths by St Clement, and intended
as a supplement to the New Testament, or rather as a sys¬
tem of Christian faith and polity. The reason why the
Constitutions are suspected by the orthodox, and perhaps
the reason also why their genuineness is defended by Whis¬
ton, is, that they seem to savour of Arianism.
Constitution, in a physical sense, signifies the parti¬
cular temperament or condition of the body.
CONSTRICTOR, an appellation given to several mus¬
cles, on account of their drawing together or closing some
of the orifices of the body.
CONSTRUCTION, in Grammar, the arranging and
connecting the words of a sentence according to the rules
of the language. See Grammar and Language.
The construction is generally more simple, easy, and
direct in the modern than in the ancient tongues. We
j have very few of those inversions which occasion so much
embarrassment and obscurity in the Latin, and our thoughts
are usually delivered in the same order in which the ima¬
gination conceives them. The nominative case, for in¬
stance, generally precedes the verb, and the verb goes be¬
fore the oblique cases which it governs. Yet English ad¬
mits of considerable inversion, as may be seen by the first
sentence of Paradise Lost.
CONSUALIA, in Antiquity, feasts which were held
among the ancients in honour of the god Census or Nep¬
tune, but different from those other feasts of the same
deity called Neptunalia. They were introduced with a
magnificent cavalcade or procession on horseback, be¬
cause Neptune was reputed to have first taught men the
use of horses.
Evander is said to have first instituted this feast, and it
was re-established by Romulus under the name ofConsus,
because it was some god under the denomination of Census
who suggested to him the rape of the Sabines; and it was
probably with a view to the achievement in question that
he established the festival. To this feast all his neighbours
were invited ; and, taking advantage of the solemnities and
sacrifices, he seized the women.
The consualia were of the number of feasts called sa¬
cred, as being consecrated to a divinity. Originally they
were not distinguished from those of the circus ; and hence
it is that Valerius Maximus says the rape of the Sabines
was effected at the games of the circus.
Plutarch observes that, during the days of this solem¬
nity, horses and asses were left at rest, and were dressed
up with crowns and other ornaments, on account of its
being the feast of Neptunus Equestris. According to
Festus, the cavalcade was performed with mules, it being
an opinion that this was the animal originally' used in
drawing the car.
Servius gives us to understand that the consualia hap¬
pened on the 13th of August; but Plutarch, in the life of
Romulus, places them on the 18th, and the old Roman ca¬
lendar on the 21st, of that month.
CONSUBS1AN1IAL, in Theology, a term of the same
import with co-essential, denoting something of the same
substance with another. The orthodox believe the Son
of God to be consubstantial with the Father.
The term bgmwdioi, consubstantial, was first adopted by
the fathers of the councils of Antioch and Nice to express
the orthodox doctrine more precisely, and to serve as a
barrier and precaution against the errors and subtilties of
the Arians, who owned every thing except the consub-
stantiality. The Arians allowed that the Word was God,
as having been made God, but they denied that he w'as
the same God, and of the same substance with the Father ;
and accordingly they exerted themselves to the utmost to
abolish the use of the word. The emperor Constantine
used all his authority w'ith the bishops to have it expunged
out of the symbols ; but it still maintained itself, and is at
this day, as it was then, the distinguishing criterion be¬
tween an Athanasian and an Arian.
Sandius and others maintain that the word consubstan¬
tial was unknown till the time of the council of Nice ; but
it is certain that it had been before proposed to the coun¬
cil of Antioch, in which Paul of Samosata had been con¬
demned, though it had there the fortune to be rejected.
Curcellaeus, on the other hand, maintains that it was an
innovation in doctrine in the council of Nice to admit an
expression the use of which had been abolished by the
council of Antioch.
>v According to Athanasius, the word consubstantial was
only condemned in the council of Antioch* inasmuch as it
implied the idea of a pre-existent matter. Now, in this
sense, it is certain the Father and the Son are not consub¬
stantial, there having been no pre-existent matter.
CONSUBSTANTTATTON, a tenet of the Lutheran
church regarding the manner of the change made in the
bread and wine in the eucharist. The divines of that pro¬
fession maintain that, after consecration, the body and
blood of our Saviour are substantially present, together
with the substance of the bread and wine, which is called
consubstantiation, or irtipanation.
CONSUEGRA, a town of Spain, on the Amarguilla, in
the province of Toledo, with 5432 inhabitants, who cany
on a manufacture of cowls for the monks.
CONSUL, the chief magistrate of the Roman common¬
wealth, invested with the regal authority for the space of
one year. They were two in number, called consuls, a
consulendo, and annually chosen in the Campus Martius.
The two first consuls were L. Junius Brutus and L. Tarqui-
nius Collatinus, who were chosen in the year of Rome 244,
immediately after the expulsion of the Tarquins. In the
291
Consuh-
stantial
Consul.
292
CON
Consul, first times of the republic, the two consuls were always cho-
sen from patrician families or noblemen ; but, in the year
c)f Rome 388, the people obtained the privilege of elect-
in" one of the consuls from their own body, and sometimes
bo'th were plebeians. The first consul elected from among
the plebeians w as L. Sextius. It was required that every
candidate for the consulship should be forty-three years of
age, which was called legitirnum tempus. He was always
to appear at the election as a private man without retinue ;
and it was requisite, before he canvassed for the ofhce, to
have discharged the functions of quaestor, edile, and prae¬
tor. But these qualifications were sometimes disregarded.
Valerius Corvinus was made consul in his twenty-third
year, and Scipio in his twenty-fourth. Young Marius, Fom-
pey, and Augustus, were also under the proper age when
they were invested with the office ; and Pompey had never
been quaestor nor praetor. The powxr of the consuls was
unbounded, and they knew no superior except tne gods and
the laws ; but after the expiration of their office t aeir con¬
duct was minutely scrutinized by the people, and misbeha¬
viour was often punished by the laws. I he badge of then
office was the prcetexta, a robe fringed with purp.e, after¬
wards exchanged for the toga pitta or palmata. 1 hey were
preceded by twelve lictors carrying the fasces or bundles
of sticks, in the middle of which appeared an axe. Hie
axe, as being the characteristic rather of tyranny than ot
freedom, was removed from the/ascesby Valerius! ophcoia;
but it was restored by his successor. By turns monthly
they were preceded by the lictors while at Rome, lest the
appearance of two persons invested with the badges ot
royal authority should raise apprehensions in the multi¬
tude. While one appeared publicly in state, only a cner
walked before the other, and the lictors followed behind
without the fasces. Their authority was equal; yet the
Valerian law gave the right of priority to the elder, and
the Julian law to him who had most children ; and he was
generally called consul major ox prior. As their power was
absolute, they presided over the senate, and could convene
and dismiss it at pleasure. The senators were their coun¬
sellors ; and among the Romans the manner ol reckoning
their year was by the name of the consuls ; hence* by id*
Tall. Cicerone et L. Antonio Consulibus, for instance, the
year of Rome 689 was always understood. This custom
lasted from the year of Rome 244* till 1294, or the 541st
year of the Christian era. In public assemblies the
consuls sat in ivory chairs, and held in their hand an ivory
wand called scipio eburneus, which had an eagle on its top
as a sign of dignity and power. When they had drawn by
lot the provinces over which they were to preside dui ing
their consulship, they went to the capitol to offer prayers
to the gods, and entreat them to protect the republic 5
after which they departed from the city arrayed in their
military dress, and preceded by the lictors. Sometimes
the provinces were assigned them without drawing lots,
by the will and appointment of the senators. At their
departure they were provided by the state with whatever
was requisite during their expedition. In their provinces
they were both attended by the twelve lictors, and equally
invested with regal authority. They were not permitted
to return to Rome without the special command of the
senate; and they always remained in the province till the
arrival of their successor. At their return they harangued
the people, and solemnly protested that they had done
nothing against the laws or interest of their country, but
had faithfully and diligently endeavoured to promote the
o-reatness and welfare of the state. No man could be con¬
sul for two years successively; yet this institution was some¬
times broken, and we find Marius, after the expiration of
his office, re-elected consul during the Cimbrian war. The
office of consul, so dignified during the times of the com-
C O N
monwealth, became a mere title under the emperors, and Co:
retained nothing of its authority but the useless ensigns
of original dignity. Even the duration of the office, which
ui uriiiumi ci»£***«*j• — -— —  * ' ""Cor
was orginally annual, was reduced to two or three months u
by Julius Caesar ; but they who were admitted on the first
of January denominated the year, and were called ordi-
narii. Their successors during the year were distinguished
by the name of suffecti. Tiberius and Claudius abridged
the time of the consulship; and the Emperor Commodus
made no less than twenty-five consuls in one year. Con¬
stantine the Great renewed the original institution, and
permitted them to remain a whole year in office.
CONTAGION, in Medicine. See Disease.
CONTANAGUR, a town of Hindustan, in the pro¬
vince of Bengal, district of Dinagepoor, 112 miles north
by east from Moorshedabad. Long. 88. 34. E. Lat. 25.
26. N. - ; ic
CONTE, a fortified city in the department of the
North, in France, at the confluence of the two navigable
rivers Hesne and Scheldt, by whose waters it may be
easily surrounded, by means of sluices under the power
of the city. It contains 600 houses, and 6080 inhabitants.
The chief trade consists in building river craft Long.
3. 30. E. Lat. 50. 56. N.
CONTEMPLATION, an act of the mind, by which it
applies itself to consider and reflect upon the works of
God, nature, or any other subject.
CONTEMPORARY, or Cotemporary, a person or
thing that existed or exists at the same time with another.
Thus, Socrates, Plato, and Aristophanes, were contempo-
ranes.
* CONTEXT, among divines and critics, that part of
Scripture or other writing which lies about the Jext, before
or after it, or both. To ascertain the full and genuine
sense of the text, the context must be taken into view.
CONTEXTURE, a word frequently used in speaking
of the works both of nature and of art, and denoting the
disposition and union of the constituent parts with respect
to one another. , . „ ,
CONTIGUITY, in Geometry, is when the surface ot
one body touches that of another.
CONTIGUOUS, a relative term understood of things
disposed so near each other that their surfaces join oi
touch. The houses in ancient Rome were not contiguous
as ours are, but insulated. _
CONTINENCE, in Ethics, a moral virtue, by which we
resist concupiscence. The term is most usually applied
to men, as chastity is to women.
CONTINENT, in Geography, a great extent of land
not interrupted by seas, in contradistinction to island,
peninsula, and the like. See Geography.
CONTINGENT, something casual or eventual, fience
a contingent denotes a conditional event, which may or
may not happen, according as circumstances fall out.
Contingent is also a term of relation,for the quota
that falls to any person upon a general division. I bus each
prince of the Germanic confederation is in time of war to
furnish so many men, and so much money and munitions,
as his contingent. . ,
CONTINUED, or Continual, in a general sense,
means incessant, or proceeding without interruption.
Continued Bass, in Music, so called, says Roussea ,
because it is continued throughout the who e piece,
principal use, besides that of regulating the harmony,
to support the voice and preserve the tone. It is be
by some that it was one Ludovico Viana, author o a
tise still extant, who, towards the end of the last centa y,
first put the continued bass in practice. . .
Continued Proportion, in Arithmetic, is that w
consequent of the first ratio is tne same w ith t ie 3n e
CON
dent of the second ; as 4 : 8 :: 8 : 16; in contradistinction
to discrete proportion.
CONTINUO, in Music, signifies the thorough bass, as
lasso continuo is the continual or thorough bass, which is
sometimes marked in music-books by the letters B. C.
CONTOBABDITES, a sect which appeared in the
sixth century. Their first leader was Severus of Antioch,
who was succeeded by John the grammarian, surnamed
Philoponus, and one Theodosius, whose followers were
also called Theodosians. Part of them, who were willing
to receive a book composed by Theodosius on the Trinity,
formed a separate body, and were called Contobabdites,
from some place, which Nicephorus does not mention,
but which apparently must have been that where they held
their assemblies. The Contobabdites allowed no bishops.
CONTOR, Condor, or Cundur, the American name
of a species of vulture. See Ornithology.
CONTORSION, in general, signifies the action of twist¬
ing or wresting a member of the body out of its natural
situation. Rope-dancers accustom themselves to contor-
sions of the limbs from their youth, in order to render the
fibres of their articulations lax and supple, for all kinds of
postures.
CONTOUR, in Painting, the outline, or that which de¬
fines a figure. See Painting.
CONTOURNE, in Heraldry, is used whew a beast is
represented standing or running with its face to the sinis¬
ter side of the escutcheon, animals being always supposed
to look to the right, if not otherwise expressed.
CONTOURNIATED, a term among antiquaries ap¬
plied to medals, the edges of which appear as if turned in
a lathe. This sort of work seems to have had its origin
in Greece, and to have been designed to perpetuate the
memories of great men, particularly those who had borne
away the prize at the solemn games. Such are those of
Homer, Solon, Euclid, Pythagoras, Socrates, and of seve¬
ral athletae.
CONTRA, a circle in the grand duchy of Hesse-Cas-
sel, which comprehends one city and twenty-seven vil¬
lages, with 1710 houses, and 9830 inhabitants. The chief
place, of the same name, on the river Contrasi, contains
1455 inhabitants.
CONTRA-HARMONIC Proportion, is that relation of
three terms, in which the difference of the first and second
is to the difference of the second and third as the third
is to the first. Thus, for instance, 3, 5, and 6, are num¬
bers contra-harmonically proportional; for 2 : 1 :: 6 : 3.
CONTRABAND, in Commerce, a prohibited commo¬
dity, or merchandise, bought or sold, imported or ex¬
ported, in prejudice of the laws and ordinances of a state,
or the fiscal prohibitions of the sovereign.
CONTRACT, in a general sense, a mutual consent of
two or more parties who voluntarily promise and oblige
themselves to do or perform something. All donations,
exchanges, leases, and the like, are so many different
contracts.
CONTRACTILE Force, that property or power inhe¬
rent in certain bodies, by which, when extended, they are
enabled to draw themselves up again to their former
dimensions.
CONTRACTION, in Physics, the diminishing the ex¬
tent or dimensions of a body, or the causing its parts to
approach nearer to each other; in which sense it is op¬
posed to dilation or expansion.
Contraction, in Grammar, is the reducing of two syl¬
lables into one, as.can't for cannot, shouldst for shouldest,
and the like.
CONTRADICTION, a species of direct opposition,
where one thing is found diametrically opposite to an-
CON
293
Conven¬
tual.
CONTRADICTORY Propositions, are opposites, oneContradic
or which imports a mere and naked denial of the other. tory
^CON IkARIE I\, an opposition between two things, "
which imports their being contrary to one another, and
consists in tnis, that one of the terms implies a negation
of the other, either mediately or immediately; so that
contiariety may be said to be the contrast or opposition
of two things, one of which imports the absence of the
other, as love and hatred.
CONTRAST, opposition or dissimilitude of figures, by
which one contributes to the visibility or effect of the others.
CONTRE, in Heraldry, an appellation given to several
bearings, on account of their cutting the shield contrary
and opposite ways. Thus we meet with contre-bend, con-
tre-cheyron contre-pale, and the like, when there are two
ordinaries of the same nature opposite to each other, so
that colour may be opposed to metal, and metal to colour.
CONTRITION, in Theology, a sorrow for our sins, re¬
sulting from the reflection of having offended God, and
arising from the sole consideration of his goodness, with¬
out any regard to the punishment due to the trespass,
and attended with a sincere resolution of forsaking them.
Ihe word is derived from the Latin conterere, to break or
bruise.
CONTROL is properly a double register kept of acts,
issues, and the like, of the officers or commissioners in the
revenue, army, or other departments, in order to perceive
the true state, and to certify the truth thereof, and the
due keeping of the acts subject to the enregisterment.
CONTROLLER, an officer appointed to control or
oversee the accounts of other officers, and, on occasion, to
certify whether or not things have been controlled.
CONTUSION, in Medicine and Surgery, any hurt of
the body that is inflicted by a blunt instrument.
CONVALESCENCE, in Medicine, the insensible re¬
covery of health, or that state in which, after the. cure of
a disorder, the bod}’- that has been reduced has not yet
regained its vigour, but begins to resume its powers.
CONVENTICLE, a diminutive of convent, denoting,
properly, a cabal, or secret assembly, of a part of the
monks of a convent, to form a brigue or party in the elec¬
tion of an abbot. From the bad use of these assemblies,
the word has come into disrepute ; and now stands for any
mischievous, seditious, or irregular assembly. The term
conventicle is said by some to have been first applied in
England to the schools of Wickliffe ; and it has since been
used to signify the religious assemblies of all in that coun¬
try who do not conform to the established doctrines and
worship of the church of England.
CONVENTION, a treaty, contract, or agreement be¬
tween two or more parties.
Convention is also a name given to an extraordinary
assembly of parliament, or the estates of the realm, held
without the king’s writ, as the convention parliament which
restored Charles II. This parliament met about a month
before his return, sat fully seven months after his restora¬
tion, and enacted several laws still in force, which were
confirmed by stat. 13 Car. II. c. 7 and c. 14. Such also
was the convention of estates in 1688, which, upon the re¬
treat of King James II. came to a conclusion that he had
abdicated the throne, and that the right of succession had
devolved to King William and Queen Mary ; upon which
the assembly expired as a convention, and was converted
into a parliament.
Convention of Estates, in Scotland, was partly of the
nature of a parliament, but differed in this, that the former
could only lay on taxes, while parliament could both im¬
pose taxes and make laws.
CONVENTUAL, something belonging to a convent or
monastery.
294
Conven¬
tual
It
Converts.
CON
Conventual is particularly used for a religious person,
who actually resides in a convent; in contradistinction to
those who are only guests, or in possession of benefices
depending on the house. See Monk.
CONVENTUS Juiudici were courts of justice esta¬
blished in the Roman provinces, with an extent of juris¬
diction circumscribed within certain limits of district, and
to which all who were included had to repair for justice.
The unseasonable affectation of changing forms of war
into forms of civil courts proved the ruin of Varus and of
three legions in Germany. Convention agere is to hold a
court of justice.
CONVERGING, or Convergent Lines, in Geometry,
are such as continually approach nearer to one another, or
whose distances become still less and less. . Ihese aie
opposed to divergent lines, the distances of which become
continually greater. I he lines which converge one way
diverge the other.
Converging Rays, in Optics, those rays which, issuing
from different points of an object, incline towards one an¬
other, till at last they meet, cross, and then become
diverging rays. . .
Converging Series, a series of terms or quantities which
always decrease the farther they proceed, or which tend to
a certain magnitude or limit, in opposition to diverging se¬
ries, or those which become continually larger and larger.
CONVERSATION, or Discourse, signifies an interlo¬
cution between two or more persons; with this distinc¬
tion, that conversation is used for any general intercourse
of sentiments whatever, whereas a discourse means a con¬
versation limited to some particular subject.
CONVERSE, in Mathematics. One proposition is
called the converse of another, when, after a conclusion is
drawn from something assumed in the converse proposi¬
tion, that conclusion is supposed, and then the one which
in the other was supposed, is now drawn as a conclusion
from it. Thus when two sides of a triangle are equal, the
angles under these sides are equal; and, conversely, if
these angles are equal, the two sides are equal.
CONVERSION, in a moral sense, implies a repentance
for conduct unworthy of our nature, and unbecoming our
obligations to its Author, and a resolution to act a wuser
and a better part for the future.
CONVERT, a person who has undergone conversion. '
Convert is chiefly used in respect of changes from
one religion, or religious sect, to another. Converts with
relation to the religion espoused are denominated apos¬
tates with regard to that which they have relinquished.
The Jews formerly converted to Christianity in Eng¬
land were called conversos. Henry III. built them a house
in London, and allowed them a competent subsistence for
their lives. This house was called domus conversorum ;
but the number afterwards increasing, they became a
burden to the crown, upon which they were distributed
among the monasteries; and after the expulsion of the
Jews under Edward III. the domus conversorum'nz& given
for the custody of the rolls.
Converts, in a monastic sense, are lay-friars, or bro¬
thers, admitted for the service of the house, but without
orders, and not allowed to sing in the choir. Till the
eleventh century the word was used to signify persons
who had embraced the monkish life at the age of discre¬
tion ; by which they were distinguished from those de¬
voted in their childhood by their parents, and called oblati.
But in the eleventh century, when illiterate persons, inca¬
pable of being clerks, and only destined for bodily labour,
began to be received into monasteries, the signification ot
the word was necessarily changed. According to Mabil-
lon, it was John, first abbot of Vallombrosa, who primarily
introduced these brother converts, distinguished from their
CON
state by the monks of the choir, who were then either (ij
clerks or capable of becoming so.
CONVEX, an appellation given to the exterior surface Crk,
of gibbous or globular bodies, in opposition to the hollow
inner surface of such bodies, which is called concave. ^v
Thus we say a convex frieze, lens, mirror, superficies,
and the like.
CONVEXITY, the exterior surface of a convex, that
is, gibbous and globular thing; in opposition to concavity,
or the inner surface, which is hollow or depressed.
A convex lens is either convex on both sides, called a
convexo-convex ; or it is plain on one side and convex on
the other, called & plano-convex ; or concave on one side
and convex on the other, called a convexo-concave, or cm-
cavo-convex, as the one or the other surface prevails, that
is, as this or that is a portion of a smaller sphere. All
convex lenses inflect the rays of light in their passage, or
send them out from their convex surface converging, so
that they concur in a point or focus. Hence all convex
lenses magnify, or represent the images larger than their
objects; and they do this the more as they are portions
of smaller spheres.
CONVICT, in Common Law, a person who is found
guilty of an offence by the verdict of a jury.
CONVICTION, in Law. When a jury has given a
verdict, upon trial, finding the prisoner guilty, he is said
to be convicted of the crime of which he stands indicted.
Conviction, in Theology, expresses the first degree of
repentance, in which the sinner becomes sensible of his
guilt, of the evil nature of sin, and of the danger of his |
own ways.
CONVOCATION, an assembly of the clergy of Eng¬
land, by their representatives, to consult of ecclesiastical
matters. It is held during the session of parliament, and
consists of an upper and a lower house. In the upper sit
the bishops, and in the lower the inferior clergy, who are
represented by their proctors, consisting of all the deans
and archdeacons, of one proctor for every chapter, and
two for the clergy of every diocese, in all one hundred
and forty-three divines ; namely, twenty-two deans,
fifty-three archdeacons, twenty-four prebendaries, and
forty-four proctors of the diocesan clergy. _ The lower
house chooses its prolocutor, whose business it is to take
care that the members attend, to collect their debates
and votes, and to carry their resolutions to the upper
house. The convocation is summoned by the king’s writ,
directed to the archbishop of each province, requiring
him to summon all bishops, deans, archdeacons, and others
qualified or entitled to sit therein. j
The power of the convocation is limited by a statute of
Henry VIII. They are not to make any canons or eccle¬
siastical laws without the king’s license ; nor, when per¬
mitted to make any, can they put them in execution, except
under several restrictions. Jhey have the examining and
censuring all heretical and schismatical books and persons;
but there lies an appeal to the king in chancery, or to his
delegates. The clergy in convocation, and their servants,
have the same privileges as members of parliament.
Since the year 1665, when the convocation of the clergy
gave up to the House of Commons the privilege of taxing
themselves, they have seldom been allowed to do any busi¬
ness ; and are generally prorogued from time to time till
dissolved, a new one being generally called along with a
new parliament. The only equivalent for giving up the
privilege of taxing themselves, was their being allowed to
vote at elections for members to the House of Commons,
which they had not before.
CONVOLUTION, a winding motion proper to the
trunks of some plants, as the convolvulus, or bind-wee ,
the claspers of vines, bryony, &c.
coo
v CONVOY, in naval affairs, one or more ships of war,
employed to accompany and protect merchant ships, and
prevent their being insulted by pirates, or the enemies of
J the state in time of war.
Convoy, in military matters, a body of men who guard
any supply of money, ammunition, or provisions, convey¬
ed by land into a town, army, or the like, in time of war.
COOCH BAHAR, a district of Hindustan, in the pro¬
vince of Bengal, situated between the twenty-sixth and
twenty-seventh degrees of north latitude. It comprehends
an area of 1300 square miles, and is bounded on the north
byBootan, on the south-west by Rungpoor, and on the east
by Bootan and Rangamatty. This country towards the
south is in a highly improved state, and very fertile. The
betel nut, the semmel, and the banyan tree, thrive well,
and attain to great luxuriance. In approaching the north
towards the Bootan Mountains, the appearance of the coun¬
try is most miserable ; and the inhabitants are as stunted
as the vegetable productions, being in general a poor-look¬
ing, puny race. They are thinly scattered over the coun¬
try, which is not well cultivated, and extremely unhealthy,
the land being low and marshy, interspersed with deep
woods, and everywhere almost choked with a coarse ve¬
getation of rank grass, reeds, and fern. The inhabitants
are in such a state of poverty that they are in the prac¬
tice of selling their children for slaves; and mothers are
frequently seen dressing up their children in order to en¬
hance their price.
It was about the year 1018 that the sultan Mahmood
penetrated into the country of which Cooch Bahar form¬
ed a part. It was also frequently plundered by the Afghan
governors of Bengal, but it always recovered its indepen¬
dence. In the year 1578 a Mogul army overran the coun¬
try, and laid the rajah under contributions. About seven¬
teen years afterwards, the prince voluntarily became a vas¬
sal of the Emperor Acbar. The district was notwithstand¬
ing overrun by the Mogul troops in 1638. During the reign
of Aurungzebe, the rajah of Cooch Bahar not only threw
off his allegiance, but actually wrested from the imperial
yoke several districts. This insult was speedily avenged
by the emperor, who sent his lieutenant, Meer Jumla, in
1661, into the country, who took the capital, and changed
its name to Alumgeernagur ; and at the same time the bi¬
gotry of the Mussulmans was so intense that they destroy¬
ed the Hindu temples, broke in pieces a celebrated image
ofVishnu, and converted the son of the rajah. Strict jus¬
tice, however, was administered under his government, and
all plunderers and offenders were severely punished. From
Cooch Bahar he proceeded to Assam, the conquest of which
he attempted, but failed to accomplish it. In 1738 Cooch
Bahar was invaded by Sayid Ahmed, military governor of
Rungpore, and plundered. The rajah was compelled to
take refuge in the mountains; and another portion of the
country was annexed to Bengal. In 1765 this district de¬
volved to the East India Company; and in 1772 it was
invaded by the rajah of Bootan, who laid claim to it, and,
meeting with little resistance from the natives, rapidly
gained possession of the country. Two battalions of na¬
tive infantry were sent to the aid of the inhabitants ; and
the invaders were not only driven back, but the rajah,
alarmed for his own safety by the advance of the Com¬
pany’s troops, was soon compelled to sue for peace.
COOK, Sir Anthony, descended from Sir Thomas
Cook, lord mayor of London, was born in 1506, and is sup¬
posed to have been educated at Cambridge. He was so
eminent for his learning, piety, and prudence, that the
guardians of King Edward VI. appointed him chief in¬
structor in learning to that prince, whose manners it was
also his business to form. He had four daughters ; and
being resolved to have sons by education, in case he should
coo
have none by birth, he taught his daughters those lessons
by night which he had instilled into the prince by day
nor were h.s endeavours fruitless, as they proved learned
in Gieek and Latin, and were equally distinguished for
virtue, piety, and good fortune. Mildred was married to
the great Lord Burgh ley; Anna to Sir Nicholas Bacon,
lord keeper of the great seal; Elizabeth to Sir John Rus¬
sell, son and heir of Francis earl of Bedford ; and Catha¬
rine to Sir Henry Killigrew. Sir Anthony lived in exile
during the persecution under Mary; but having returned
on the accession of Queen Elizabeth, he spent the rest of
his days in peace and honour, dying in 1576.
Cook, Captain James, one of the ablest and most cele¬
brated of navigators, was the son of James Cook, a labourer
or servant in husbandry, and supposed to have been a
native of the county of Northumberland, was born on the
27th of October 1728, at the village of Marton, in the
north riding of Yorkshire. He was'one of nine children,
and he received the rudiments of his education from the
schoolmistress of the village; but afterwards, on his fa¬
ther’s removal to Great Ayton, he was, at the expense of
Mr Skottow, his father’s employer, put to a day-school,
where he was instructed in writing and in a few of the ele¬
mentary rules of arithmetic. Before the age of thirteen he
was bound as apprentice to Mr W. Sanderson, haberdasher
or shopkeeper at Straiths, about ten miles from Whitby;
but some disagreement having taken place between him
and his master, he indulged his own inclination in binding
himself as apprentice to Messrs Walkers of Whitby, who
had several vessels in the coal trade ; and after serving a
few years in the situation of a common sailor, he was at
length appointed mate of one of Mr Walker’s ships. Du¬
ring this period it is not recollected that he exhibited any
thing peculiar either in ability or in conduct.
Early in the year 1755, when hostilities broke out be¬
tween France and England, Cook entered on board the
Eagle of sixty guns, to which vessel Sir Hugh Palliser
was soon afterwards appointed, and distinguished himself
as an active and diligent seaman; and his promotion was
forwarded by a letter of recommendation, which, at the
request of several neighbours, was written by Mr Osbal-
deston, member for Scarborough, in Mr Cook’s favour.
On the 15th of May 1759 he was appointed master of the
Mercury, which soon afterwards sailed for America, and
joined the fleet under Sir Charles Saunders at the memor¬
able siege of Quebec. His interest with the admiralty ap¬
pears even then to have been strong; for, on Mr Osbaldes-
ton’s letter, he was appointed master of the Grampus sloop;
but the proper master having unexpectedly returned to her,
the appointment did not take place. Four days afterwards
he was appointed master of the Garland ; but upon inquiry
it was found that he could not join her, as the vessel had
already sailed; and the next day, 15th May 1759, he was
appointed master of the Mercury. On this occasion he was
recommended by Captain Palliser to a difficult and dan¬
gerous service, namely, to take the soundings of the river
St Lawrence, between the island of Orleans and the north
shore, which he performed in the most complete manner;
and soon afterwards he was employed to survey the most
dangerous parts of the river below Quebec. These were
his first efforts with the pencil. After this expedition he
was, on the 22d of September, appointed master of the
Northumberland, stationed at Halifax, where he first read
Euclid, and applied himself to astronomy and other branch¬
es of science. In the year 1762, he was on board the Nor¬
thumberland, assisting at the recapture of Newfoundland;
and towards the latter end oif the same year he returned
to England, and married, at Barking in Essex, Miss Eliza¬
beth Batts. Early in 1763, when Admiral, then Captain,
Greaves was appointed governor of Newfoundland, Cook
295
Cook.
296
COOK.
Cook.
went out with him to survey the coasts of that island. At
the end of the season he returned to England ; but, in the
beginning of 1764, Sir Hugh Palliser being appointed go¬
vernor of Newfoundland and Labrador, Cook accompanied
him in the capacity of surveyor, and had the Granville
schooner to attend him •while employed on that station.
In this situation he continued till 1767.
While Cook remained on this station, he had an oppor¬
tunity of exhibiting publicly a specimen of his progress m
the study of astronomy, in a short paper printed in the
57th volume of the Philosophical Transactions, entitled
“An Observation of an Eclipse ot the Sun at the Islam
of Newfoundland, 5th August 1766, with the longitude ot
the place of observation deduced from it. His obseiva-
tion was made at one of the Burgeo islands, near Cape
Ray, in north latitude 47° 56' 19"; and by comparing it
with an observation of Dr Hornsby at Oxford, it appeal ec
to have been accurately done; so that Cook obtained t ,e
character of an able astronomer.
In the mean time, a spirit for geographical discovery,
which had gradually declined since the beginning of the
seventeenth century, began to revive. Iwo voyages ot
this kind had been performed in the reign of George 11.,
the one under Captain Middleton, the other by Captains
Moore and Smyth, with a view to discover a north-west
passage through Hudson’s Bay to the East Indies. 1 w o
others, under Captains Byron, Wallis, and Carteret, had
been undertaken by order of his majesty George III., soon
after the conclusion of the peace in 1763; but before the
return of these navigators, who were ordered to sail lound
the world, another voyage was resolved upon for astrono¬
mical purposes. As it had been calculated that a, tran¬
sit of Venus over the sun’s disk would happen in 1767, a
lono- memorial to his majesty was presented by the Royal
Society, in which they set forth the great importance of
making proper observations on this phenomenon, and the
regard which had been paid to it by the different courts
of Europe; and entreated, among other things, that a
vessel might be fitted out at the expense of government,
for conveying proper persons to some of the Friendly
Islands, in order to make the necessary observations.
This request being complied with on the part of his ma¬
jesty, Alexander Dairympie, Esq. an eminent member of
the Royal Society, was appointed to take the command
of the bark appropriated for the purpose. In the execu¬
tion of the project, however, an unexpected difficulty oc¬
curred. Mr Dalrymple, sensible ot the impossibility of
guiding a vessel through unknown and dangerous seas
without any proper command over the crew, demanded a
brevet commission as captain of the vessel, in the same
manner as had formerly been granted to Dr Halley in a
voyage of discovery made by him. But this commission
Sir Edward Hawke absolutely refused to sign, declaring,
when pressed upon the subject, that he would rather suffer
his right hand to be cut oft’, than trust any of his majesty’s
ships to a person who had not been properly bred to the
service ; and in this proceeding he was justified by the mu¬
tinous and disorderly behaviour of Dr Halley’s crew', who,
denying the legality of his authority over them, had involv¬
ed him in a very disagreeable dispute, which w'as attend¬
ed with pernicious consequences. Mr Dalrymple, on the
other hand, being equally determined in his refusal to
proceed without the authority in question, there was a
necessity for finding some person of science who might
also be free from the objection urged by Sir Edward
Hawke. Mr Cook, therefore, was proposed by Mr Ste¬
phens, and this recommendation being seconded by Sir
Hugh Palliser, he was immediately appointed to direct
the expedition; and on this occasion he was promoted to
the rank of lieutenant in his majesty’s service.
Mr Cook’s commission as lieutenant was dated the 25th n
of May 1768, and a vessel of 370 tons, named the Endea-W.
vour, was provided for him ; but whilst the necessary pre.
parations were making for the voyage. Captain W allis re*
turned. As it had been recommended to this gentleman
to fix upon a proper place for making the astronomical
observations, he accordingly fixed upon the island named
by him George’s Island, and since known by the name of
Otaheite or Tahiti; judging also that Port Royal harbour
would afford an eligible situation. This proposal being
accepted, directions were accordingly given to Cook, with
whom Mr Charles Green was joined in the astronomical
part; the latter having been assistant to Dr Bradley in
the royal observatory at Greenwuch, and thus considered
as every way qualified for the office. The lieutenant was
likewise accompanied by Mr (afterwards _ Sir Joseph)
Banks, Dr Solander, and others. The principal design of
the voyage, as has already been hinted, was to make off
servations on the transit of Venus ; but this being execut¬
ed, Mr Cook was directed to make further discoveries in
the Pacific. Ocean. On the 30th of July 1768 he set sail
on this expedition ; and it is sufficient to observe here, that
throughout the whole Mr Cook approved himself an able
seaman, and, from his behaviour both to his own people
and to the savage nations whom he occasionally visited, he
showed a strict regard to the rules of justice and humanity.
On his first arrival at Otaheite, regulations were drawn up
for the guidance of his people, which he took care to cause
to be punctually obeyed. On erecting the observatory
in order to perform the astronomical operations, an acci¬
dent happened which had nearly disconcerted the whole
scheme. This was the loss of the quadrant, which had
been stolen by some of the natives ; but it vas recovered,
chiefly through the exertions of Mr Banks, and the ob¬
servations were accordingly made. Scarcely had this been
accomplished, however, when another theft ot the natives
demanded the most serious consideration of the command¬
er. Some of them taking advantage of the attention of
the officers being otherwise engaged, seized the opportu¬
nity of breaking into one of the store-rooms, and stole
therefrom a bag of spike-nails ot no less than a hundieu-
weight. This was a most important affair; for as these
nails were of great estimation among the natives, the pos¬
session of such a quantity must undoubtedly have gready
lessened their value, and thus rendered provisions of every
kind much dearer on the island than before. One of the
thieves therefore being discovered, was punished with two
hundred lashes ; notwithstanding which he obstinately re¬
fused to discover any of his accomplices. Repeated thefts
were committed afterwards, and it required all the wisdom
and resolution of Mr Cook to conduct himself in a proper
manner. At last, after a stay of three months, when pre¬
paring to take his leave, the most disagreeable occurrence
which he had hitherto met with took place. This was the
desertion of two of his people, who, having married young
women of the country, determined to take up their resi¬
dence therein. Mr Cook was now obliged to seize some
of the chiefs, and to inform them that they could not ob¬
tain their liberty unless the deserters were recovered.
This at last produced the desired effect; the deserters
were given up, and Cook set sail, along with Tupia, w m
had formerly been prime minister to Oberea, a princess
of the island, and a boy of thirteen years of age, both m
whom were desirous of accompanying him to England.
Whilst Cook proceeded to visit some other of the bouti
Sea islands, Tupia occasionally served as an interpreter.
On his arrival in New Zealand, Mr Cook found the peo}
extremely hostile and insolent. On the first meeting, one
of the natives having threatened to dart his jance ^
the boat, was shot dead; another having carried oit -
c o
Green’s hanger, was fired at with small shot; and upon
L1 jjjg still refusing to restore it, was fired at with ball and
killed. This, however, produced very little effect upon the
rest, who attempted to make an attack upon them, till se¬
veral muskets were fired with small shot, which wounded
three or four more. Next day the commander having de¬
termined to force some of the natives on board, in order
to conciliate their affections by kind treatment, directed
his men to follow two canoes which he perceived under
way before him. One made her escape, but the other not
observing the boats in pursuit, was overtaken, upon which
the savages plied their oars so briskly, that the ship’s boats
were not able to keep up with them. Tupia, whose lan¬
guage the New Zealanders understood, called to them to
return, with assurances that no harm should be done them ;
but they continued their flight without regarding him. A
musket was then fired over their heads with a view to in¬
timidate them; but upon this they prepared to fight, and
on the approach of the' boats began the attack with so
much vigour, that the lieutenant’s people were obliged to
fire upon them with ball, by which four out of seven who
were in the boat were killed, and the other three jumped
into the water, and were taken on board.
Notwithstanding the disaster just mentioned, to which
the three New Zealanders who were taken on board had
been witnesses, they were soon conciliated, and began to
sing with a degree of taste that surprised the English
gentlemen. They were boys, the oldest about nineteen
and the youngest about eleven ; but no kindness which
could be shown them proved in any degree effectual in
bringing about a reconciliation with the rest. On the con¬
trary, having perceived the ship in some distress, they in¬
stantly showed a disposition to make an attack; and from
this they were only prevented by the firing of a four-pound¬
er charged with grape-shot. But even this did not produce
any permanent effect; another attack was determined upon,
and would undoubtedly have been made, had not Tupia
informed them, that if they persisted in their attempt,
the arms of their adversaries, like thunder, would destroy
every one of them. This was enforced by the fire of an¬
other four-pounder with grape-shot, which, spreading wide
in the water, terrified them to such a degree that they
began to paddle away as fast as possible. Notwithstand¬
ing this, however, some intercourse began to take place;
but in every instance the New Zealanders manifested
their hostility and treachery in such a manner as showed
that they were not to be gained by fair means. At last
an attempt to carry off Tayeto, Tupia’s boy, rendered it
absolutely necessary to fire upon them, in order to rescue
him from certain destruction, some of the savages having
got him into a canoe, where they held him down by vio¬
lence. In consequence of this one of the savages was
j killed on the spot, and several more wounded, by the dis¬
charge of muskets from the boats; but Tayeto recovered
his liberty, jumped into the water, and swam to the ship.
Some partial intercourse again took place; but still it ap¬
peared that the innate rancour of these savages was not
to be subdued by any fair means; and it was only by the
powerful arguments of cannon and musketry that they
could be kept from attempting to do mischief.
From the account of this voyage published by Dr
Hawkesworth, it appears that a considerable number of
savages perished in a similar manner; and they seem to
have manifested a more hostile behaviour than afterwards.
On these melancholy occasions, however, it must be ob¬
served to the honour of Cook, that his humanity was emi¬
nently conspicuous beyond that of the common people, who
all along showed as much inclination to destroy the na-
tlVw a-S a sPorl;sman does to kill the game he pursues.
Whilst Mr Cook coasted the islands of New Zealand, he
VOL. VII.
O K.
was sometimes in the most imminent danger of being ship¬
wrecked. In the latitude of 35° south, and in the midst
of summer in that climate, he met with such a gale of
wind as he scarcely ever experienced before; so that he
was no less than three weeks in getting ten leagues to the
westward, and two more before he could get thirty leagues
farther. Fortunately, however, they were all this time a
considerable way from land, otherwise it is probable that
the storm must have proved fatal.
Having spent six months in circumnavigating and fully
exploring the islands of New Zealand, he sailed thence
on the 31st of March 1770. It must be observed, how¬
ever, that the extreme hostility manifested by the inhabit¬
ants in that part of the island where he first arrived was
not universally diffused; on the contrary, a friendly inter¬
course was for a long time maintained with those about
Queen Charlotte’s Sound. From New Zealand he pro¬
ceeded to New Holland, and on the 28th of April came
in sight of Botany Bay. Here all their endeavours to in¬
duce the natives to have any intercourse with the ship’s
company proved ineffectual, though happily there was no
blood spilt in any quarrel.
During their navigation round New Holland, the coasts
of which are full of dangerous rocks and shoals, our navi¬
gators were brought into a more perilous situation than
ever. This happened on the 10th of June 1770, as they
pursued their course from Trinity Bay, and nearly in the
latitude assigned to the islands discovered by Quiros. At
that time they had the advantage of a fine breeze and a
clear moonlight; and in standing off from six till near
nine o’clock, the ship had deepened her water from four¬
teen to twenty-one fathoms; but whilst the navigators
were at supper, it shoaled to twelve, ten, and eight fa¬
thoms in the space of a few minutes. Every thing was
then ready for putting the ship about, when they sud¬
denly got into deep water again, and continued in twenty
and twenty-one fathoms for some time, so that the gentle¬
men went to bed in perfect security. A little before
eleven, however, the water shoaled at once from twenty to
seventeen fathoms; and before the lead could be heaved
again, the ship struck, and remained immoveable, except¬
ing in as far as she was heaved up and down, and dashed
against the rocks, by the surge. The alarm was now uni¬
versal, and not indeed without the greatest reason. It
appeared that the vessel had been lifted over the ledge of
a rock, and lay in a hollow within it, where there were in
some places from three to four fathoms water, and in
others scarcely as many feet. The sheathing boards were
disjoined, and floating round the ship in great numbers;
and at last the false keel was also destroyed, while the
rock kept grating her bottom with such force as to be
heard in the fore store-room. It was now necessary to
lighten the ship as much as possible, and this was done
with all expedition to the amount of more than fifty tons.
In the morning of the 11th of June they discovered the
land at about eight leagues distance, without any island
between on which they could have been sent ashore in
the event of the ship going to pieces. To add to their
distress, the ship drew so much water that it was with
difficulty kept under with three pumps. Lastly, it ap¬
peared that even the rising of the tide, on which they had
ultimately depended for relief, was insufficient to answer
the purpose, as the day-tide fell considerably short of that
in the night-time. Having therefore lightened the ship
still further, by throwing out every thing that could pos¬
sibly be spared, they waited with patience for the next
tide ; when, after incredible exertion, the ship righted,
and they got her over the ledge of the rock into deep wa¬
ter. By continual labour, however, the men were at last
so much exhausted that they could not stand to the pumps
1
298
COOK.
Cook.
more than five or six minutes at a time; after which they
threw themselves flat on the deck, though a stream of
water between three and four inches deep ran over it;
and in this situation they lay till others, exhausted as well
as themselves, took their places, on which they started
up again, and renewed their exertions. In this dreadful
extremity Mr Monkhouse, a midshipman, proposed the
expedient of “ fothering” the ship, as it is called, by which
means he said that he had seen a merchant vessel brought
from Virginia to London after she had sprung a leak which
admitted more than four feet water in an hour.. The ex¬
pedient being approved of, it was put in execution in the
following manner. He took a lower studding-sail, and
having mixed a large quantity of oakum and wool toge¬
ther, stitched them down by handfuls as lightly as pos¬
sible, the whole being afterwards spread over with the
dung of the sheep and other filth. The sail was then
hauled under the ship’s bottom by means of ropes, which
kept it extended. When it came under the leak, the
wool and oakum, with part of the sail, were forced inwards
by the pressure of the water, which thus prevented its
own ingress in so effectual a manner, that one pump^ in¬
stead of three was now sufficient to keep it under. Thus
they got the ship into a convenient port on the coast of
New Holland, where they had an opportunity of repair¬
ing the injury. But here they discovered that their pre¬
servation had not been owing entirely to the expedient
above mentioned ; for one of the holes was in a great mea¬
sure filled up by a piece of rock which had broken off and
stuck in it; and this hole was so large, that had it not
been filled up in the manner just mentioned, they must
undoubtedly have perished notwithstanding all the assist¬
ance that could have been derived from the pumps.
The dangers they sustained in navigating this coast
were innumerable, insomuch that for nearly three months
they were obliged to have a man constantly in the chains
heaving the lead. ’Ihey were always entangled among
rocks and shoals, which could not have failed to destroy
a less experienced navigator; and even Mr Cook, with all
his sagacity, could not sometimes have extiicated himself,
had it not been for the favourable interposition of natural
events, which no human penetration could foresee, nor
have the least dependence upon.
From the time they quitted the coast of New Holland
till their arrival at Batavia, in the island of Java, our na¬
vigators met with no other danger than what is common in
sea voyages. They were obliged to stay for some time at
this place to repair their damages; and, on view ing the con¬
dition of the ship, they found they had more reason than
ever to admire the manner in which they had been pre¬
served. Both the false keel and main keel were greatly
injured; great part of the sheathing was torn off; several
of the planks were much damaged, and among these theie
were two, and half of a third, which, for six feet in length,
were not above the eighth part of an inch in thickness,
besides being penetrated with worms quite to the timbers.
Here the crew were excessively annoyed by sickness,
which obliged them to remain much longer than they
would otherwise have done ; and it is worthy of no tice that
every one of the crew was ill excepting the sail-maker,
an old man between seventy and eighty years of age, who
contrived to get drunk every night. Poor Tupia, with
his boy Tayeto, fell sacrifices to the unhealthiness of the
climate, as wrell as the surgeon, three seamen, and Air
Green’s servant. Nor did the evil stop here; for on their
setting out from Batavia, the seeds of disease which had
been received there broke out in the most violent and
fatal manner, insomuch that in the course of about six
weeks there died one of Mr Banks’s assistants, Mr Sporing,
Mr Parkinson, natural history painter, Air Green the as¬
tronomer, the boatswain, carpenter, and mate, Mr Monk-
house the midshipman, the corporal of the marines, two ^
of the carpenter’s crew, and nine seamen. Even the jolly
old sail-maker could now hold out no longer; but whether
his death might not in some measure be attributed to his
being less plentifully supplied with liquors than formerly,
would have deserved inquiry. These unfortunate events
made a considerable impression upon Mr Cook’s mind,
and perhaps induced him to direct his attention to those
methods of preserving the health of seamen, which he af¬
terwards put into execution with so much success. After
touching at St Helena, they continued their voyage for
England, where they arrived on the 11th of June 1771;
and on the 29th of August the same year his majesty tes¬
tified his approbation of Air Cook’s conduct, by appointing
him a captain in the navy. On this occasion Air Cook
wished to have been advanced to the rank of post-captain,
which, though not more profitable than the other, is more
honourable ; but this being inconsistent with the rules of
preferment in the navy, the Earl of Sandwich, at that
time at the head of the admiralty, could not agree to it.
Captain Cook was not allowed to remain long inactive.
The idea of a southern continent had long been enter¬
tained, and Mr Dalrymple had re-directed the attention of
the public towards the question, by his historical collec¬
tion of voyages to the Pacific Ocean, published in two
quarto volumes, one in 1770, and the other in 1771. fo
determine the matter finally, Captain Cook was again
sent out; the object of this voyage being not merely to
settle the question just mentioned, but to extend the
geography of the globe to its utmost limits. That the
undertaking might be carried on with the greater ad¬
vantage, it was determined to employ two ships, upon the
choice and equipment of which the utmost attention was
bestowed. The successful voyage which had already been
made in the Endeavour suggested the idea of that ship
being a proper model for the two which were to be sent
out; and the opinion of Lord Sandwich concurring with
the general idea, two vessels, constructed by the same
person who had built the Endeavour, were purchased lor
the voyage. These were about fourteen or sixteen months
old at the time they were purchased; and, in the opinion
of Captain Cook, they were as fit for the purpose as if they
had been but newly built. The larger of the two, of 462
tons burden, was named the Resolution, and the smaller,
of 336 tons, had the name of the Adventure; the comple¬
ment of men on board the former, of which Captain Cook
was commander, being a hundred and twelve, and on board
the latter, commanded by Mr Tobias Furneaux, eighty-one.
In their equipment, every article which could be supposed
necessary was procured, and every circumstance likely to
contribute to the success of the voyage was attended to in
the most scrupulous manner. Mr Hodges, an excellent
landscape painter, was engaged to make drawings and paint¬
ings of such objects as required them ; Mr John Remhold
Forster, with his son, were both engaged, in order to explore
and collect the natural history of the countries through
which they passed; and, lastly, Air William ales and A r
William Bayley were engaged by the board of longitude to
make celestial observations. The latter were furnished
with the best instruments of every kind, and among these
with four time-pieces, three constructed by Mr Arnold,
and one by Mr Kendal upon Mr Flarrison s principles.
At Plymouth Captain Cook received his instructions,
which were not only to sail round the globe, but to sail
round it in high southern latitudes, and to make such tra¬
verses as might finally resolve the question concerning t e
southern continent. In pursuance of these instructions
he set sail on the 13th of July 1772, and on the 29th of
the same month arrived at Madeira. He reache
c o
Cape of Good Hope without having a single man sick;
j but having left it and kept on his course to the southward,
he soon began to meet with cold and stormy weather, by
which he lost almost the whole of his live stock of sheep,
hogs, and geese. The bad effects of this stormy weather
upon the men were guarded against by an addition to
their clothing, and by giving them a dram on particular
occasions. On the 6th of December, being in the latitude
of 50° 40', he fell in with islands of ice, and continued
among them in various latitudes till the 17th of January
1773, when he set sail for New Zealand, which he reached
on the 27th.
The reception of our navigator by the New Zealanders
was now much more friendly than in the former voyage,
and there were no contests with the natives; nor did
Captain Cook observe any of those whom he had seen be¬
fore, neither was there the smallest remembrance of for¬
mer hostilities. Having remained here until the 7th of
June, the navigators set sail for Otaheite; but during the
voyage the crews of both ships were attacked by the
scurvy. Those of the Adventure were in a very sickly
state; the cook died, and twenty-eight of her best men
were rendered incapable of duty. On board the Resolution
matters were much better; and the only reason that could
be conjectured for the difference was, that the people of
the Adventure had been in a habit of body more inclined
to the scurvy than those of the Resolution, and had eaten
fewer vegetables. Whilst he remained at New Zealand
the captain had discovered a tree which greatly resembled
the American black spruce; and being persuaded that it
would be attended with effects equally salutary on the
health of the people, be employed them in brewing beer
from it. This was done whilst they continued at Dusky
Bay, in order to supply the want of vegetables, which
were not to be procured there; but on removing to Queen
Charlotte’s Sound they were more fortunate. Captain
Cook himself went to look out for antiscorbutic vegetables,
and in a very short time returned with a boat-load of
scurvy-grass, celery, &c. These were boiled with the
peas and wheat; and though some of the people disliked
them at first, they soon became so sensible of their good
effects that they cheerfully followed the example of the
rest; and the freedom of the crew from the scurvy and
other distempers was by every one attributed to the New
Zealand spruce beer and vegetables.
During this voyage Captain Cook had another narrow
escape from shipwreck. Having been becalmed at the
distance of half a league from a reef of rocks near Osna-
hurg island, it was found necessary to send out the boats
in order to tow off the ships ; but this was found impossible.
The calm continuing, and the situation of the navigators
becoming every moment more dangerous, the captain at-
tempted to get through an opening in the reef which he
1 had judged practicable ; but on approaching it, he found
that there was not sufficient depth of water, at the same
time that the draught of the tide through it forced the
ship thither in a manner scarcely to be resisted. One of
the warping machines, with about four hundred fathoms
of rope, was then ordered out, but did not produce any
I effect. They were within two cables length of the break¬
ers, and yet no bottom could be found for casting anchor.
Having no other resource, however, they did drop an
anchor; but before it took hold, the Resolution was in
less than three fathoms water, and struck at every fall of
the sea, which broke with violence close under her stern,
threatening destruction to every one on board. At last
the tide ceasing to act in the same direction, the boats were
ordered to try to tow off the vessel; and in this, being
assisted by the land breeze, which fortunately sprung up at
that instant, they with much labour succeeded.
O K.
299
• considerabIe time in the South Sea
islands, Captain Cook returned to New Zealand, and
thence set sail- for the southern part of the continent of
America; and having explored all the islands in the neigh¬
bourhood, he returned to England, where he arrived in
safety on the 30th of July 1774, having been absent three
years and eighteen days, and in all that time lost only
one man, who died of a consumption, probably begun be¬
fore he set out on the voyage.
. ^be reception which our navigator now' met with was
m all lespects suited to his merit. He was immediately
raised to the rank of post captain, and soon afterwards
unanimously elected a member of the Royal Society; from
which he received the prize of the gold medal for the best
experimental paper which had appeared throughout the
year.
I he third voyage of this celebrated navigator was not
undertaken by any express command of his majesty. Cap¬
tain Cook had already done so much, that it was thought
reasonable he should now spend the remainder of his life
in tranquillity; and in order to enable him to do so in a
comfortable manner, besides his rank of post-captain in the
nav}', he was also made a captain in Greenwich. Still,
however, there were some points in the science of geo¬
graphy which had very much engaged the attention of
the public, and which were indeed of such importance as
to become a national concern. These were to discover the
connection between Asia and America, and to determine
whether there was not a possibility of shortening the pas¬
sage to the East Indies by sailing round the northern
parts of the continents of Europe and Asia. Many attempts,
indeed, had already been made to explore a passage, by
various navigators of different nations ; but all of them had
failed, and had left the point still undetermined. An act
of parliament had been passed in 1745, by which a reward
of L.20,000 was held out to the ships of any of his ma¬
jesty s subjects which should accomplish this important
voyage, but without mentioning any thing of those belong¬
ing to his majesty ; and this reward was further confined
to the discovery of a north-west passage to the East Indies
through Hudson’s Ray. In the year 1776, however, both
the errors just mentioned were corrected. It was now
enacted, “ That if any ship belonging to any of his ma¬
jesty’s subjects, or to his majesty, shall find out, and sail
through, any passage by sea between the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans, in any direction or parallel of the north¬
ern hemisphere, to the northward of the 52d degree of
northern latitude, the owners of such ships if belonging
to any of his majesty’s subjects, or the commanders, offi¬
cers, and seamen, of such ships belonging to his majesty,
shall receive, as a reward for such discovery, the sum of
L.20,000.”
Cook.
It was not, as has already been hinted, deemed proper
to solicit Captain Cook to undergo fresh dangers by un¬
dertaking a voyage of this kind; nevertheless, as he was
universally looked upon as the fittest person in the king¬
dom for the purpose, the eyes of all were tacitly fixed
upon him ; he was consulted on every thing relating to it,
and solicited to name the person whom he judged most
proper to conduct it. To determine this point, Captain
Cook, Sir Hugh Palliser, and Mr Stephens, were invited
to dinner at the house of Lord Sandwich; where, besides
the consideration of the proper officer for conducting the
expedition, many things were said concerning the nature
of the design. They enlarged upon its grandeur and dig¬
nity, its consequences to navigation and science, and the
completeness it would give to the whole system of dis¬
coveries ; until at last Captain Cook became so much
inflamed by the representations of the importance of the
voyage, that he started up, and declared that he would
300
COOK.
Cook.
tions which the leaving of his English friends was calculated
to excite. His majesty had taken care to iurmsh him with s
every thing that could possibly be of use when he returned
to his native country ; and he had besides received seve¬
ral valuable presents from Lord Sandwich, Sir Joseph
Banks, as well as from ladies and gentlemen of his ac¬
quaintance ; so that nothing was omitted which could pos¬
sibly be done to convey, by his means, to the inhabitants
of the South Sea islands, an idea of the British power and
greatness.
Every thing being prepared for the voyage, our naviga¬
tor set sail from the Nore on the 25th ot June l/7o; but
by reason of some delay in receiving his instructions, they
did not leave Plymouth till the 12th ol July. He had
not been long at sea before he began his operations for
preserving the health of his people, operations which were
found equally efficacious in this as in the former voyage.
Finding his stock of provender for the animals on board
-..-it .  a. 1 4-^of rl »v o n ft cv in nvnoi* *■«
conduct it himself. This was what the parties present
had desired, and probably expected ; his offer was there¬
fore instantly laid before the king, and Captain Cook was
appointed commander of the expedition on the 10th of Feb¬
ruary 1776. At the same time it was agreed, that upon
his return from the voyage, he should be restpred to his
place at Greenwich; and if no vacancy occurred during
the interval, that the officer who succeeded him should
resign in his favour. The instructions he now received
were, that he should attempt the high latitudes between
the continents of Asia and America, and if possible re¬
turn to England along the northern coasts of Asia and
Europe. This was most probably the result of the cap¬
tain’s own deliberations, and what had been suggested
by him to Lord Sandwich and other people in power. He
was particularly desired to sail first into the Pacific Ocean
through the chain of newly-discovered islands which he
had lately visited. After haying IffiXlo^run 7lwt7 he ''touched at Teneriffe in order to
passed 'nt» ‘he ““rthem parts of >e ° ure a , having judged that to be a more proper
and produce Jl.ace for the P-pose^than Maderra, ^wh.ch^as usual,
some intermediate discoveries, before he ailived at the
main scene of operations. With regard to this principal
obiect, he was ordered, immediately on his arrival on the
coast of New Albion, to proceed northward as far as the
latitude of sixty-five degrees, without losing any time in
exploring creeks or rivers previously to his arrival in that
latitude; and for his further encouragement, the act of
1745, offering a premium for the discovery of the passage
in question, was amended in the manner above mentioned.
That nothing might be wanting which could promote the
success of the expedition, Lieutenant Pickersgdl was sent
out, in 1776, with directions to explore the coasts of Baf¬
fin’s Bay ; and the next year Lieutenant \oung was com¬
missioned not only to examine the western parts of that
bay, but to endeavour to find a passage on that side from
the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. Nothing, however, was
performed by either of these gentlemen which could in the
least promote Captain Cook’s success. Two vessels were
provided, as in the former voyage, namely, the Resolution
and the Discovery; the command of the former being given
to Captain Cook, and of the latter to Captain Charles
Clerke. The only thing in which the appointment of the
Discovery differed from that of the Resolution was, that
the former had no marine officer on board. Every degree
of attention was bestowed, as in the former voyage, upon
the proper victualling and other necessaries for the two
ships ; and that the inhabitants of those countries which
our navigator intended to visit might derive some peima-
nent benefit from intercourse with the navigators, it was
determined to send abroad a breed of domestic animals,
and likewise a quantity of useful seeds, to be left in proper
places. With this view, a bull, two cows with their calves,
and several sheep, together with hay and corn for their
subsistence, were put on board; and it was likewise pro¬
posed to take in others at the Cape of Good Hope. A
laro-e assortment of iron tools and trinkets was also sent out;
and, in short, every thing that was judged proper either
to conciliate the good will of the natives, or to prove ser¬
viceable to them, was provided for the voyage, as well as
every convenience for the ships’ companies. In the for¬
mer voyage Captain Cook had brought along with him a
native of one of the South Sea islands, named Qmai, who
resided in England during the interval between the second
and third voyages, and was now happy at getting an op-
nnrtunitv of returning: to his own country. Though he uns aim pumtij , - •. vrc.s not
could by no means complain of the entertainment he had he set sail on the 30th ot November, ,
received in England, the idea of returning home loaded ' till the third ot December that he go c ea ^tj ern
with treasure, fbich might enable him to make a figure Having exp ored ^..^‘^ alani DuriSgl
among his countrymen, soon overcame all uneasy sensa- seas, Captain Cook set sad tor New Zca a . 8
   7     
resorted to. On sailing thence he ran a gieat lisk ot
running upon some sunken rocks on the island of Bona-
vista ; but on this, as well as on other occasions of danger,
he behaved with the same judgment, coolness, and pre¬
sence of mind, which distinguished him throughout the
whole course of his life. On the 12th of August he ar¬
rived before Port Praya, in one of the Cape de Verd
islands named St Jago; but not finding it necessary to run
in there, he continued his voyage to the southward. The
weather now becoming gloomy and rainy, it required a
continuance of the methods he had already piactisedfor
preserving the health of his people ; but, as foimeily, they
were attended with the greatest success. On the 1st ol
September our navigators crossed the equator, and on the
18th of October anchored in Table Bay at the Cape of
Good Hope. Here they met with a violent tempest, the
effects of which were felt both on sea and land. It lasted
three days, and the Resolution was the only ship in the
bay that.rode out the storm without dragging her anchors.
On shore the tents and observatory were destroyed, and
the astronomical quadrant narrowly escaped irreparable
damage. The Discovery, which had been some time later
in sailing from England, was driven ou the coast, and did
not arrive till the 10th of November.
Whilst they remained in this place, a disaster happened
which threatened the loss of most of their live stock. The
bull and two cows had been put ashore to graze among
other cattle; but Captain Cook had been advised to keep
the sheep, sixteen in number, near the tents, where they
were penned in every night. But some dogs having got in
amongst them in the night-time, killed four, and dispersed
the rest. Six of them were recovered the next day, but
the two rams and two of the finest ewes in the flock were
missing. The captain applied to Baron Plettenbeig, t ^
governor; but all his endeavours were unsuccessful, until
he employed some of the meanest and lowest of the peo¬
ple ; fellows who for a ducatoon would have cut their mas¬
ter’s throat, burned the house over his head, and buried
him and his whole family in ashes. After all, two ot tne
finest ewes in the flock were missing, and never could be
recovered. The captain, therefore, in order to repair tins
loss, and to make an addition to his original stock, pur¬
chased two young bulls, two entire horses, two mares, w
heifers, two rams, several ewes and goats, with some ra -
bits and poultry; when, having finished all hfs usin^s
o
C O O K.
part of the voyage, our navigators were involved in so
thick a fog, that, according to the authsrs of Captain
Cook’s life, “ they sailed three hundred leagues in the
dark.” The first land they afterwards reached was New
Holland, where they remained till the 30th of January
1777, when they set sail for New Zealand, and on the 12th
of February anchored in Queen Charlotte’s Sound. Here
the people were shy and timorous, on account of their hav¬
ing formerly destroyed ten of Captain Furneaux’s people,
who had been sent ashpre to gather vegetables. The cause
of the quarrel could not be known, as none of the party
were left alive to tell the news. Lieutenant Burney, who
went ashore in quest of them, found only some fragments
of their bodies; from which it appeared that they had
been killed and devoured by the savages. It was not the
intention of Captain Cook, at this distance of time, to re¬
sent the injury; he even refused to put to death a chief
named Kahoora, who, as he was informed by the natives
themselves, had killed Mr Rowe, the commander of the
party. He was, however, particularly careful that no op¬
portunity should now be given the savages of committing
such an action with impunity; and with this view a boat
was never sent on shore without being well armed, and
the men under the command of such officers as could be
depended upon. The New Zealanders were no sooner
assured of Captain Cook’s pacific disposition, than they
threw aside their fears and suspicions, and entered into a
commercial intercourse with the people. It would have
been the less excusable in Captain Cook to have revenged
at this time the massacre of Mr Rowe’s party, as he was
assured that the quarrel originated from some petty thefts
of the savages, which were too hastily resented on the part
of the British; and that, had it not been for this, no mis¬
chief would have happened.
On the 25th of February^ our navigator left New Zea¬
land, taking with him, at the request of Omai, two boys,
the eldest about eighteen, and the youngest about ten. So
much time had now been spent in sailing up and down in
the Pacific Ocean, where several new islands were disco¬
vered, that Captain Cook judged it impossible to accom¬
plish any thing this year in the high northern latitudes ; for
which reason he determined to bear away for the Friendly
Islands, in order to supply himself with those necessaries
which he had found it impossible to procure at any of the
islands which he had just discovered. In his run thither,
several new islands were visited; and in prosecuting these
discoveries our navigator once more narrowly escaped
being shipwrecked. The danger at this time arose from a
low sandy island, which the Resolution w'as very near run¬
ning upon, and from which she was only saved by the cir¬
cumstance of all the men having been accidentally called
upon deck to put the vessel about. Soon after this both
ships struck upon some sunk coral rocks, but happily got
off without material damage.
After a stay of between two and three months, Captain
Cook took leave of the Friendly Islands on the 13th of
July 1777, and on the 12th of August reached Otaheite,
where he introduced Omai to his countrymen. Here the
captain found the people of Otaheite ready to engage in
a war with those of Eimeo ; but though strongly solicited
by the former to assist them in an expedition against their
enemies, he refused to take any concern in the affair, al-
leging, by way of excuse, that the people of Eimeo had
never offended him. This seemed to satisfy most of the
chiefs; but one, named Towha, was so much displeased
that Captain Cook could never regain his favour.
Irom Otaheite Captain Cook next proceeded to Eimeo,
where, on account of some thefts committed by the na¬
tives, he was obliged to commence hostilities, by burning
a number of their war canoes, and even some houses.
301
These transactions gave him much concern; and the more
that he had been so much solicited to make war on these ^
people by his friends at Otaheite, to whose entreaties he
had refused to listen, hrom Eimeo he proceeded to Hua-
heine, where he saw Omai finally settled, and left with him
the two New Zealand youths already mentioned. The
youngest of these was so much attached to the English
that it was necessary to carry him out of the ship and put
him ashore by force. During his stay on this island, the
captain was obliged to punish a thief with greater severity
than he had ever done before, by causing his head and
beard to be shaved, and his ears cut off. Some other dis¬
agreeable transactions took place, particularly the deser¬
tion of two of his people, who were not recovered without
the greatest difficulty. In the course of his exertions for
their recovery, he found it necessary to detain the son,
daughter, and son-in-law of the chief of an island named
Otaha. This had almost produced very serious conse¬
quences, the natives having formed a plot for carrying off
Captain Cook himself, as well as Captain Clerke and Mr
Gore. As to the commander, they were disappointed, by
his own caution and vigilance; but Messrs Clerke and
Gore were in particular danger; and it was only owing to
the circumstance of one of them having a pistol in his
hand as they walked together on shore, that they were not
seized.
Having left the Society Islands, and discovered a new
group, which, in honour of his patron the Earl of Sand¬
wich, our commander named the Sandwich Isles, he set
out on the 2d of January 1778 on his voyage northward.
In this he was very successful, ascertaining the vicinity of
the continents of Asia and America, which had never been
done, or but very imperfectly, before. From these deso¬
late regions he returned to the island of Oonalashka,
whence, having refitted and taken in provisions, he re¬
turned to the southward, and on the 26th of November
reached the Sandwich Islands, where he discovered a new
one named Mowee, and on the 30th of the same month
another of much larger extent, named Owhyhee. Seven
weeks were spent in exploring the coasts of this island ;
and during all this time he continued to have the most
friendly intercourse with the people ; who, however, ap¬
peared to be much more numerous and powerful than those
of any island our navigators had yet touched at. Several of
the chiefs and principal persons had attached themselves
greatly to the commander, and in general the people ap¬
peared to be much more honest in their dispositions than
any whom he had ever visited. But by the time he had
finished his circumnavigation of the island, and cast anchor
in a bay called Karakakooa, matters were greatly alter¬
ed. An universal disposition to theft and plunder had
now evinced itself; and in this it was evident that the
common people were encouraged and abetted by their
chiefs, who shared the booty with them. Still, however,
no hostilities were commenced; the greatest honours were
paid to .the commander; and on his going ashore he was
received with ceremonies little short of adoration. A vast
quantity of hogs and other provisions were procured for
the ships; and on the 4th of February 1779 they left the
island, not without most magnificent presents from the
chiefs, such as they had never before received in any part
of the world. Unluckily they met with a storm on the
sixth and seventh of the same month, during which the
Resolution sprung the head of her foremast in such a
manner that they were obliged to return to Karakakooa
bay to get it repaired.
The same friendly intercourse which had formerly sub¬
sisted with the natives now commenced, and Captain Cook
was treated with the usual honours; but on the. 13th of
this month it was unhappily broken olf. One of the .na-
Cook.
302
Cook.
COOK.
tives being detected in stealing the tongs from the arm¬
ourer’s forge in the Discovery, was dismissed with a pretty
severe flogging; but this example was so far from being
attended with any good effect, that in the afternoon an¬
other, having snatched up the tongs and a chisel, jumped
overboard with them and swam for the shore. The mas¬
ter and midshipman were instantly dispatched in pursuit
of him; but he escaped on board a canoe, which paddled
away so quickly that the cutter could not overtake it.
A chief named Pareah, who was at this time on board the
Resolution, understanding what had happened, promised
to go ashore and recover the stolen goods; but before
this could be effected the thief had made his escape into
the country. Captain Cook, who was at that time ashoie,
had endeavoured to intercept the canoe when it landed,
but was led out of the way by some of the natives who pre¬
tended to be his guides. The tongs and chisel, however,
were brought back to the master as he advanced to the
landing place; but he being now joined by some of the
rest of the people in the pinnace, and not satisfied with
the recovery of the stolen goods, insisted upon having the
thief, or the canoe which carried him, by way of reprisal.
On his preparing to launch this last into the water he was
interrupted by Pareah, who insisted that it was his pro¬
perty, and that he should not take it away. As the offi¬
cer paid no regard to his remonstrances, Pareah, who
appears to have been a very strong man, seized him,
pinioned his arms behind, and held him fast by the hair
of the head. Upon this one of the sailors struck the
chief with an oar, on which, quitting the officer, he in¬
stantly snatched the oar out of the man s hand, and broke
it in two across his knee. The natives then attacked the
sailors with stones, and soon drove them to their boats, to
which they were forced to swim, as they lay at some dis¬
tance from the shore. The officers who could not swim re¬
tired to a small rock, where they were closely pursued by
the Indians; and here the master narrowly escaped with
his life, till Pareah returned and obliged the natives to give
over their attacks. The gentlemen, sensible that Pareah s
presence alone could protect them, entreated him to le-
main with them till they could be brought off in boats. On
his refusal, the master set out to the place where the ob¬
servatories had been erected, for further assistance; but
Pareah, who met him, and suspected his errand, obliged
him to return. In the mean time the multitude had begun
to break in pieces the pinnace, after having taken every
thing out of her that was loose. On the return of Pareah,
however, they were again dispersed, and some of the oars
restored, after which the gentlemen were glad to get off
in safety. But before they reached the ship, Pareah over¬
took them in a canoe, and delivered the midshipman s cap,
which had been taken from him in the scuffle ; he also
joined noses with them in token of friendship, and desired
to know whether Captain Cook would kill him on account
of what had happened. They assured him that he would
not, and made signs of reconciliation on their part. On
this he left them and paddled over to the town of Kava-
roah ; and this was the last time that he was seen by the
English. In the night-time the sentinels were much alarm¬
ed by shrill and melancholy sounds from the adjacent vil¬
lages, which they took to be the lamentations of the wo¬
men. Next day it was found that the large cutter of the
Discovery had been carried off in the night-time; on which
Captain Cook ordered the launch and small cutter to go
under the command of the second lieutenant, and to lie off
the east point of the bay, in order to intercept all the canoes
that might attempt to get out, and if necessary to fire upon
them. The third lieutenant of the Resolution was dis¬
patched to the western part of the bay on the same ser¬
vice, whilst the master was sent in pursuit of a large double
canoe already under sail, and making the best of her way (v
out of the harbour. He soon came up with her, and by ^
firing a few shots, obliged her to run on shore, and the
Indians to leave her. This was the canoe belonging to a
chief named Omea, whose person was reckoned equally
sacred with that of the king ; and to the neglect of secur-
ing him may be attributed the succeeding disaster. Cap.
tain Cook now formed the resolution of going in person to
seize the king himself in his capital of Kavaroah; and as
there was reason to suppose that he had fled, he intended
to secure the large canoes, which on that account he had
caused to be hauled up on the beach. With this view he
left the ship about seven o’clock in the morning of Sunday
the 14th of February, attended by the lieutenant of ma¬
rines, a serjeant, corporal, and seven private men. The
crew of the pinnace, under the command of Mr Roberts,
were also armed; and as they rowed towards the shore,
the captain ordered the launch to leave her station at the
opposite point of the bay, in order to assist his own boat.
Having landed with the marines at the upper end of the
town, the natives flocked round him, and prostrated them¬
selves before him. No sign of hostility, nor even alarm,
appeared; the king’s sons waited upon the commander as
soon as he sent for them, and by their means he was intro-
duced to the king, who readily consented to go on board;
but in a little time the natives began to arm themselves
with long spears, clubs, and daggers, and to put on thick
mats, which they use as defensive armour. This hostile
appearance was greatly augmented by an unlucky piece of
news which was just now brought by a canoe, that one of
the Indian chiefs had been killed by the people in the Dis-
covery’s boats. On this the women, who had hitherto sat
on the beach conversing familiarly and taking their break¬
fasts, removed, and a confused murmur ran through the
crowd. An old priest now appeared with a cocoa-nut in
his hand, which he held out as a present to Captain Cook,
singing all the while, and studiously making a noise, as if
he meant to divert the attention of the captain and his
people from observing the motions of the Indians, who
were everywhere putting on their armour. Captain Cook,
thinking his situation dangerous, ordered the lieutenant
of the marines to march towards the shore, as he himself
did, having all the while hold of the king’s hand, wdio very
readily accompanied him, attended by his wife, two sons,
and several chiefs. The natives made a lane for them to
pass; and as the distance they had to proceed was only
about fifty or sixty yards, and the boats lay at no more than
five or six yards distance from land, there was not the least
apprehension of the catastrophe which ensued. The king’s
youngest son Keowa went on board the pinnace without
the least hesitation, and the king was about to follow, when
his wife threw her arms about his neck, and, with the as¬
sistance of two chiefs, forced him to sit down. The cap¬
tain might now have safely got aboard, but did not imme¬
diately relinquish the design of taking the king along with
him. Finding at last, however, that this could not be ac¬
complished without a great deal of bloodshed, he was on
the point of giving orders for the people to re-embark,
when one of the Indians threw a stone at him. This in¬
sult was returned by the captain, who had a double bar¬
relled piece, by a discharge of small shot from one of the
barrels. This had little effect, as the man had a thick mat
before him; and as he now brandished his spear, the cap¬
tain knocked him down with his musket. The king’s son,
Keowa, still remaining in the pinnace, the detaining him
would have been a great check upon the natives; but un¬
luckily Mr Roberts, who commanded the pinnace, set him
ashore at his own request soon after the first fire. In the
mean time another native was observed in the act of bran¬
dishing his spear at the commander, who was obliged to
c o
fire upon him in his own defence. Missing his aim, how-
, ever, he killed one close by his side, upon which the ser-
ieant, observing that he had missed the man he aimed at,
received orders to fire also, which he did, and killed him
on the spot. This repressed the foremost of the Indians,
and made them fall back in a body ; but they were urged
on again by those behind, and discharged a volley of stones
among the marines, who immediately returned it by a ge¬
neral discharge of their muskets; and this was instantly
followed by a fire from the boats. Captain Cook express¬
ed his astonishment at their firing, waved his hand to them
to cease, and called to the people in the boats to come
nearer to receive the marines. This order was obeyed
by Mr Roberts; but the lieutenant who commanded the
launch, instead of coming nearer, put off to a greater dis¬
tance ; and by this preposterous conduct deprived the un¬
fortunate commander of the only chance which he had for
his life ; for the natives, exasperated by the fire of the ma¬
rines, now rushed in upon and drove them into the water,
leaving the captain alone upon the rock. A fire, indeed,
was kept up from both boats; but the one was too far off,
and the other was crowded with the marines, so that they
could not direct their fire with proper effect. Captain
Cook was then observed making for the pinnace, carrying
his musket under his arm, and holding his other hand on
the back part of his head to guard it from the stones. A
native was seen following him, but with marks of fear, as
he stopped once or twice, seemingly undetermined to pro¬
ceed. At last he struck the captain on the back of the
head with a club, and then precipitately retreated. The
latter staggered a few paces, and then fell on his hand and
one knee, and dropped his musket. Before he could re¬
cover himself, another native stabbed him with a dagger
in the neck, though still without putting an end to his life.
He then fell into a pool of water knee-deep, where others
crowded upon him ; but still he struggled violently with
them, got up his head, and looked towards the pinnace as
if soliciting assistance. The boat was not above five or six
yards distant; but such was the confused and crowded
state of the crew, that no assistance could be given him.
The natives then got him under again, but in deeper water,
though he still continued to struggle, and once more got
his head up ; but being quite spent, he turned towards the
rock as if to support himself by it, when a savage struck
him with a club, which probably put an end to his life, as
he was never seen to struggle more. The savages hauled
his lifeless body upon the rocks, and used it in the most
barbarous manner, snatching the daggers out of one ano¬
ther’s hands, in order to have the pleasure of mangling it.
If any thing could add to the misfortune of this celebrated
navigator’s death, it was, that even his mangled remains
were not rescued from the hands of the barbarians. The
i lieutenant already mentioned, who, by his removing to a
distance when he ought to have come on shore, seemed
to have been the occasion of his death, returned on board
without making any attempt to recover his body ; although
it appeared from the testimonies of four or five midship-
I men who arrived soon afterwards at the fatal spot, that the
beach was almost deserted by the natives, who had at last
yielded to the continual fire from the boats. The officer
alleged in excuse for removing at first from the shore, that
he mistook the signals ; but be this as it will, the complaints
against him wrere so many and so great, that Captain
Clerke was obliged publicly to take notice of them, and to
take the depositions of his accusers in writing. These pa¬
pers, however, were not found, and it is supposed that the
captain’s bad state of health had induced him to destroy
them. After all, we are informed that, in the opinion of
f aptain Philips, who commanded the marines, it is very
doubtful whether any effectual relief could have been given
O K.
to the commander, even if no mistake had been committed
on the part of the lieutenant. The author of all the mis¬
chief was Pareah, the chief already mentioned, who had
employed people to steal the boat in the night-time. The
king was entirely innocent both of the theft and the mur¬
der of Captain Cook ; but the latter was perpetrated by
some chiefs who were his near relations. The chief
who first struck him with a club was named Karimans
Rah a, and he who stabbed him with the dagger was called
Nooah.
By icason of the barbarous disposition of the natives it
was found impossible to recover Captain Cook’s body after
the first opportunity had been lost. By dint of threats
and negotiations, however, some of the principal parts were
procured with great difficulty ; by which means the navi¬
gators were enabled to perform the last offices to their much
respected commander. These remains being put into a
coffin, and the service read over them, were committed to
the deep with the usual honours, on the 21st of February
1779. . J
Captain Cook was a man of plain address and appear¬
ance, but looked well, and was upwards of six feet in height.
His head was small, and he wore his hair, which was brown,
tied behind. His face was full of expression ; his nose ex¬
ceedingly well shaped; his eyes, which were small and of
a brown cast, quick and piercing; and his eyebrows pro¬
minent, which gave his countenance altogether an air of
austerity. But notwithstanding his appearance, it w'as im¬
possible for any one to excel him in humanity; as is evi¬
dent from the whole tenor of his behaviour, both to his own
people and the many savage nations with whom he had
occasion to interfere. This amiable quality discovered
itself even in the fatal catastrophe above described; for
his utmost care was directed to the preservation of his
people, and the procuring them a safe retreat to their boats.
And it cannot be sufficiently lamented, that he who was so
careful of others, should himself have perished in such a
miserable manner for want of proper support. The con¬
stancy with which he pursued every object was unequalled.
Nothing could divert him from what he had once under¬
taken ; and he persevered in the midst of dangers and
difficulties which would have disheartened persons of in¬
ferior strength and firmness of mind. For this he was
adapted by nature, having a strong constitution, inured to
labour, and capable of undergoing the greatest hardships ;
to which he united an invincible fortitude of mind. He
was master of himself on every trying occasion ; and the
greater the emergency, the greater appeared his calmness
and self-possession. That he possessed genius in an emi¬
nent degree cannot possibly be questioned : his invention
was ready, and capable not only of suggesting the most pro¬
per objects of pursuit, but the best methods of attaining
them. His knowledge of his own profession was unequalled;
and to this he added very considerable proficiency in other
sciences. In astronomy he became so eminent, that he
was at length enabled to take the lead in making the astro¬
nomical observations during the course of his voyages. In
general learning he likewise attained to such a proficiency
as to be able to express himself with clearness and pro¬
priety. He was an excellent husband and father, sincere
and steady in his friendships, and possessed of general
sobriety and virtue of character. In conversation he was
unaffected and unassuming; rather backward in pushing
discourse, but obliging and communicative to those who
wished for information: and he was distinguished by a
simplicity of manners almost universally the accompani¬
ment of great merit. With all these amiable qualities,
however, he was subject to a hastiness of temper, which
sometimes degenerated into harshness and severity; but
still, when taking a general view of his character, we must
303
Cook.
coo
acknowledge that he was undoubtedly one of the most re¬
markable men of his time. »
Captain Cook is distinguished as an author by an ac¬
count of his second voyage written by himself. His first
voyage, as well as that of several other navigators, had
been recorded by Dr Hawkesworth ; but on this occasion
it was not judged necessary to have recourse to any other
pen than that of the navigator himself; and his journal,
with a few occasional alterations, was sufficient for the
purpose. The style is clear, natural, and manly ; and it is
not improbable, that even a pen oi more studied elegance
could not have made it appear to so much advantage.
Distinguished honours were paid to Captain Cooiv alter
his death, both by bis own countrymen and by othei na¬
tions. Michael Angelo Gianetti read, in the Florentine
Academy, on the 9th of June 1785, an eulogy on oui ce e-
brated navigator, which was published at Florence dining
the same year. One of the French literary academies also
proposed a prize for the best eulogium on Captain Cook;
and many poetical testimonies to his merit appealed in our
own language. The Royal Society of London resolved to
testify their respect to him by a medal, for which puipose
a voluntary subscription was opened. One of the gold
medals struck on this occasion was presented to the lung,
another to the queen, a third to the prince of Wales; a
fourth was sent to the French king, on account of the pro¬
tection he had granted to the ships ; and a fifth to the em¬
press of Russia, in whose dominions they had been treated
with every expression of friendship and kindness. Loth
thq king of France and the czarina of Russia condescend¬
ed to accept of the gifts with marks of satisfaction. Die
French king wrote a handsome letter to the society, sign¬
ed by himself, and undersigned by the Marquis de Vei-
gennes; and the empress of Russia commissioned Count
Osterman to signify to Mr Fitzherbert tbe sense she enter¬
tained of the value of the present, which she had caused
to be deposited in the museum of the Imperial Academy
of Sciences. After the general assignment of the medals,
which took place in 1784, a surplus of money still remained;
upon which it was resolved by the president and council
that an additional number of medals should be struck oft,
to be disposed of in presents to Mrs Cook, the Earl of Sand¬
wich, Dr Benjamin Franklin, Dr Cook, provost of Kings
College, Cambridge, and Mr Planta.
During the two, visits of the ships at Kamtschatka, Ma¬
jor Behm, the commandant of that province, had in the
most liberal manner afforded every kind of assistance which
it was in his power to bestow; and such was the sense
entertained by the lords of the admiralty of the kindness
he had evinced, that they determined to make him a pre¬
sent of a magnificent piece of plate, with an inscription ex¬
pressive of his humane and generous conduct. Sir Hugh
Palliser, who had all along showed an uncommon respect
and kindness for Captain Cook, likewise evinced his re¬
gard for his memory in a conspicuous manner. On his
estate in Buckinghamshire, he constructed a small build¬
ing, with a pillar, containing inscribed on it the character
of Captain Cook which is given at the end of the intro¬
duction to the account of the last voyage.
Amidst all these expressions of unavailing praise, the
widow and family of our celebrated navigator were not
forgotten. A memorial for a pension of L.200 per annum
having been presented to the king by the commissioners
of the admiralty, and signed by the Earl of Sandwich, Mr
Butler, the Earl of Lisburne, Mr Penton, Lord Mulgrave,
and Mr Mann, his majesty complied with the request,
and the grant was passed through the usual forms with all
possible speed. By this grant L.200 per annum was settled
on the widow during life, and L.25 a year on each of her
three sons; and after her death the L.200 was to be di-
coo
vided among her children. The last honour paid to the iL
memory of Captain Cook was granting a coat of arms to
the family, which was done by patent on the 3d of Sep- - per,
tember 1785.
COOKERY, the art of preparing and dressing victuals
for the table; an art, in its simplest and ordinary modes,
sufficiently familiar to every housekeeper, and, in its luxu¬
rious refinements, copiously detailed in manuals and direc¬
tories published for the purpose.
COOLOO, a mountainous and woody district of Hin¬
dustan, in the province of Lahore, bounded on the east
by the Sutledge river, on the west by the Ravey, and
nearly divided into two by the Beyah river, it is situated
between the 33d and 34th degrees of north latitude. The
chief town is of the same name, and is situated on the
eastern side of the Bengal river, 155 miles north-east from
the city of Lahore. Long. 75. 48. E. Lat. 33. 20. N. There
are also two other towns of Hindustan of this name ; one
belonging to the independent Zemindars, in the province
of Orissa, ninety miles west by north from Cuttuck, in long.
84. 40. E. lat. 20. 40. N.; and the other in the province of
Cuttuck, situated on the south side of the Mahanuddy
river, sixty miles west-south-west from Cuttuck. This
is a large village, and is of considerable trade, importing
cotton from Berar, and returning to the interior loaded
with salt.
COOLOOR, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Bejapoor, and district of Moodgul, belonging to the Ni-
zam. Long. 77. 2. E. Lat. 16. 4. N.
COOPANG, a town of the island of Timor, situated
in a bay which forms an excellent harbour for shipping.
This settlement was formed in 1630, and is novv the only
one in the island which the Dutch still retain. They have
a fortified factory, which is placed close to the sea, with
a Chinese village in the neighbourhood. A trilling com¬
merce was formerly carried on with Batavia, from which
place are imported piece goods, corn, cutlery, and opium.
. The returns consist of stones, sandal-wood, wax, and a
little gold. 1
COOMASSIE, a large town of Africa, the capital of
the Ashantee country. It stands upon the side of a large
rocky hill, and is nearly surrounded by a marsh. It is built
in an oblong form, and is about four miles in circumference,
not including the suburbs, which are about half a mile
distant, and were formerly connected by streets with the
city. Four of the principal streets are half a mile long,
and from fifty to an hundred yards broad. A long and
wide street runs through the middle of the town ; and here
the palace and other residences of the royal family are
situated. Mr Bowdich reckons that the town contains alto¬
gether twenty-seven streets. At the back ol it there is a
small grove, into which are thrown the bodies of all the
victims sacrificed in the barbarous rites of the A.shantee
superstition. The town is supplied with water from the
marsh, which contains springs ; but this bog is otherwise
highly injurious to the place. It gives rise to a putrid exha¬
lation, which morning and evening envelopes the town in
a dense fog, thereby engendering disease. There are ex¬
cellent markets in Coomassie, which are open from eight
in the morning till sunset, and in these there is always a
plentiful supply of the various necessaries of life. With
regard to the population of this place, the Ashantees en¬
tertain a preposterous notion, believing it to contain a
hundred thousand inhabitants when the whole are co -
lected. This, according to Mr Bowdich, is a gross exag¬
geration, and he sets down the number at fifteen thousand
as a near approximation to the truth.
COOPER, an artificer who makes casks and coops,
tubs, barrels, and all kinds of wooden vessels which are
bound together with hoops. It would appear that the art
coo
of the cooper is of great antiquity, and that it soon at¬
tained all the perfection which it at present possesses.
But although this art is very ancient, there are some
countries in which it is as yet unknown, and in others, from
the scarcity of wood, or from different causes, earthen ves¬
sels and skins lined with pitch are used for containing
liquors. The Latin word dolium is usually translated a
cask; but it was employed by the Komans to denote
earthen vessels used for the same purposes. The word
Mare, to plane or smooth, from which dolium is derived,
and the word dolarius, a cooper, may naturally enough be
applied, the former to the construction of casks, which are
made of several pieces of the same tree planed and fitted
for joining together, and the latter to the artificer himself.
Pliny ascribes the invention of casks to the people who
lived at the foot of the Alps. In his time they lined them
with pitch. From the year 70 of the Christian era, in the
time of Tiberius and Vespasian, the art of constructing
vessels of different pieces of wood seems to have been
well known. Indeed, previous to this period, Varro and
Columella, in detailing the precepts of rural economy,
speak distinctly of vessels formed of different pieces, and
bound together with circles of wood, or hoops. The de¬
scription which they have given accords exactly with the
construction of casks. The fabrication of casks, on ac¬
count of the great abundance of wood, was probably very
early introduced into France. It is uncertain when this
art was first practised in Britain ; but it seems not impro¬
bable that it was derived from the French.
The figure of a cask is that of two truncated cones, or
rather conoids, joined together ; for the lines are not
straight, as in the cone, but are curved from the vertex to
the base. As the place where the junction seems to be
made is the most capacious, it is commonly called the
belly of the cask. In the choice of wood, old, thick, and
straight trees are preferred, from which thin planks are
hewn, which are then formed into staves. In France the
wood is prepared in winter ; the staves and bottoms are
then formed, and they are put together, or, in the language
of the artificer, the cask is mounted, in summer. Planing
the staves is one of the most difficult parts of the work,
and it is at the same time one of the most important in
the fabrication of casks. In dressing staves with the
plane, the workman is directed to cut across the wood,
the reason of which is probably to prevent the instrument
following the course of the fibres, which may not always
be in the same plane with the surface of the stave, and
thus render it of unequal thickness.
In the formation of the staves, it ought to be recol¬
lected that each must constitute part of a double conoid.
It must therefore be broader at the middle, and gradually
become narrower, but not in straight lines, towards the
extremities. I he outside of the staves across the wood
must be wrought into the segment of a circle, and it must
be thickest near the middle, growing gradually thinner
towards the ends. Great experience is requisite for the
nice adjustment of the different curves to the size and
shape of the cask; but less attention is paid to the round¬
ing or dressing of the inside of the stave.
After the staves have been dressed, and are ready to be
arranged in a circular form, it might be supposed necessary,
for the purpose of making the seams tight, to trim the thin
edges in such a manner that the contiguous staves may
e brought into firm contact throughout the whole joint,
nr sloped similar to the arch-stones of a bridge. But this
18 no^ fhe practice usually' followed by the artificer. With-
°nt attempting to slope them, so that the whole surface
o the edge may touch in every point, he brings the con-
iguous staves into contact only at the inner surface ; and
m 1118 way> by driving the hoops hard, he can make a
vol. vii. b 1
coo
305
i e joint .than could be done by sloping them from the Cooper
outer to the inner side. In this, perhaps, and in giving
the proper curvature to the staves, consist the principal
part of the cooper s art. r 1
Cooper, Anthony Ashley, of Shaftesbury, a very
able statesman, was the son of Sir John Cooper, Baronet,
ot Kockburn, in Hampshire, and was born in 1621 He
was elected member for Tewkesbury at nineteeYyears
of age, in the short parliament which met in April 1640.
He seems to have been well affected to the king’s service
at the beginning of the civil wars, for he repaired to the
king at Oxford with offers of assistance ; but Prince Mau¬
rice having broken articles with a town in Dorsetshire,
which he had got to receive him, this furnished him with a
pretence for going over to the parliament, froip which he
accepted a commission. When Richard Cromwell was
deposed, and the Rump again came into power, they no¬
minated Sir Anthony as one of the council of state, and a
commissioner for managing the army. At that very time
he had engaged in a secret correspondence for restoring
Charles II., and, upon the king’s return, he was sworn of
the privy council. He was one of the commissioners ap¬
pointed for the trial of the regicides ; and was soon after¬
wards made chancellor of the exchequer, and then a com¬
missioner of the treasury. In 1672 he was created Earl
of Shaftesbury, and he was subsequently raised to the
office of lord chancellor. He filled this situation with
gieat ability and integrity; and though the short time
he was at the helm proved a tempestuous season, it is
only doing him justice to say that nothing could either
distract or terrify him. The great seal was taken from
him in 1673, twelve months after he had received it;
but though out of office, he still made a distinguished
figure in parliament, for it was not in his nature to re¬
main inactive. He drew upom himself the implacable
hatred of the Duke of York, by steadily promoting, if
not originally inventing, the project of a bill of exclusion;
and when his enemies came into power, he found it ne¬
cessary to consult his safety by retiring into Holland,
where he died about six weeks after his arrival, in 1683.
Whilst his great abilities are confessed by all, it has been
his misfortune to have his history recorded by enemies
who have studied to render him odious. Butler has drawn
a severe character of him in Hudibras.
Cooper, Anthony Ashley, Earl of Shaftesbury, was son
of Anthony Earl of Shaftesbury, and grandson of Anthony
first Earl of Shaftesbury, lord high chancellor of England.
He was born in 1671, at Exeter House, in London, where
lived his grandfather, who from the time of his birth con¬
ceived so great an affection for him, that he undertook the
care of his education; and young Cooper made so good
a progress in learning that he could write with ease both
the Latin and Greek languages when only eleven years
old. In 1683 his father carried him to the school at Win¬
chester, where he was often insulted on account of his
grandfather, whose memory was odious to the zealots for
despotic power; he therefore prevailed with his father to
consent to his desire of going abroad. After three years
stay abroad, he returned to England in 1689, and was
offered a seat in parliament for some of those boroughs
where his family had an interest. But this offer he de¬
clined accepting, in order that he might not be inter¬
rupted in the course of his studies, which he prosecut¬
ed five years more with great vigour and success; till,
upon Sir John Trenchard’s death, he was elected burgess
for Poole. Soon after his coming into parliament, he had
an opportunity afforded him of evincing that spirit of
liberty by which he uniformly directed his conduct on
all occasions. This consisted of the bringing in and pro¬
moting “ the act for regulating trials in cases of high trea-
2 Q
306
COO
Cooper. Son.” But the fatigues of attending the House of Com-
mons in a few years so impaired his health, that he was
obliged to decline coming again into parliament after the
dissolution in 1698. He then went to Holland, where the
conversation of Mr Bayle, M. le Clerc, and several other
learned and ingenious men, induced him to reside a twelve-
month. During this time there was printed at London, m
8vo, an imperfect edition of Lord Ashley s Inquiry con¬
cerning Virtue. It had been surreptitiously taken trom a
rough draught, sketched when he was not more than twen¬
ty years of age. His lordship, who was greatly chagrined
at this event, immediately bought up the impression be¬
fore many copies were sold, and set about completing ie
treatise as it afterwards appeared in the second volume
of the Characteristics. Soon after Lord Ashley s return
to England, he became, by the decease of his father, Lari
of Shaftesbury. But his own private affairs prevented his
attending the House of Lords till the second year ot his
peerage, when he was very earnest in supporting the mea¬
sures of King William, at that time projecting the grand
alliance. So much was he in favour with the king, that
he had the offer of the office of secretary of state ; but his
declining constitution would not allow him to accept of it.
Though he was disabled from engaging in business, the
king consulted him on matters of very high importance;
and it is pretty well known that he had the greatest share
in composing that celebrated last speech of King William,
delivered on the SlstDecember 1701. Upon Queen Anne s
accession to the throne, he returned to his retired manner
of life, being no longer advised with concerning the public ;
and he was also removed from the vice-admiralty of Dor¬
set, which had been in the family for three generations.
. In 1703 he made a second journey to Holland, and returned
to England the year following. The French prophets, soon
after this, having by their enthusiastic extravagances made
a great noise throughout the nation, and, among different
opinions, some having advised a prosecution, the Lord
Shaftesbury apprehended that such a measure would tend
rather to inflame than to cure the disease, rins was the
origin of his Letter concerning Enthusiasm, which he sent
to Lord Somers, then president of the council; and which
being approved of by that noblemrfn, and other gentlemen
to whom it was shown, was published in 1708, though with¬
out the name of the author, or that of the person to whom
it was addressed. His Moralist, a philosophical rhapsody,
being a recital of certain conversations on natural and moral
subjects, appeared in January 1709 ; and in the May fol¬
lowing. his Sensus Communis, an essay upon the freedom of
wit and humour, in a letter to a friend. In the same year
he entered into the married state with Mrs Jane Ewer, the
youngest daughter of Thomas Ewer, Esq. of Lee, in Hert¬
fordshire. By this lady, to whom his lordsliip was related, he
had an only son, Anthony, afterwards Earl of Shaftesbury.
In 1710 was published his Soliloquy, or Advice to an Au¬
thor, London, 8vo. Whilst he was thus employing him¬
self in literary composition, his health declined so fast that
it was recommended to him to try the benefit of a warmei
climate. Accordingly, in July 1711, he set out for Naples,
and pursuing his journey by way of France, was obliged to
pass through the Duke of Berwick’s army, which at that
time lay encamped near the borders of Piedmont. Here
he was entertained by that celebrated captain in the most
friendly manner, and every assistance was afforded to con¬
duct him in safety to the Duke of Savoy’s dominions. But
our author’s removal to Italy proved of no service to the
re-establishment of his health ; for after having resided
at Naples about a year and a half, he departed this life
on the 15th of February 1713, being then in the forty-
second year of his age. The only pieces which he finished
after he arrived at this city were the Judgment of Her-
c o o
cules, and the Letter concerning Design, which last was Q:
added to the impression of the Characteristics which ap-V
peared in 1732. It was in 1711 that the first complete
edition of the Characteristics was published, in the order
in which they now stand. But this publication not being
entirely to his lordship’s satisfaction, he chiefly employed
the latter part of his life in preparing his writings for a
more elegant edition, which was given to the world in
1713, soon after his decease. The several prints which
were then first interspersed throughout the volumes were
all invented by himself, and designed under his imme¬
diate inspection; and for this purpose he was at the
pains of drawing up a most accurate set of instructions,
.the manuscript of which is still preserved in the family.
That no mistakes might be committed, the earl did not
leave to any other hands so much as the drudgery of
correcting the press. In the three volumes of the Cha¬
racteristics of Men, Manners, Opinions, and Times, he
completed the whole of his works which he intended for
the public eye. Not long before his death he had formed
a scheme of writing a discourse on painting, sculpture,
and the other arts of design, which, if he had lived to
finish it, might have proved a very pleasing and useful
work, as he had a fine taste in subjects of this kind;
but his premature demise prevented his making any great
progress in the undertaking. The Earl of Shaftesbury
had^an esteem for the works of the best English divines,
one remarkable instance of which was displayed in his
writing a preface to a volume of Dr Whichcot’s Ser¬
mons,^published in 1698. Copies of these sermons had
been taken in short hand, as they were delivered from
the pulpit; and the earl had so high an opinion of them,
that he not only introduced them to the world by his
preface, but had them printed under his own particular
inspection. In his Letters to a Young Man at the Univer¬
sity, he speaks of Bishop Burnet and Dr Hoadley in terms
of great applause, and he has done justice to the merits of
Tillotson, Barrow, Chillingworth, anti Hammond, as the
chief pillars of the church against fanaticism. For a fur¬
ther account of his character as a philosopher and writer,
we refer to Sir James Mackintosh’s Discourse, in the first
volume of this work.
Cooper or Couper, ThowaS) o. pious cind leainctl pie-
late in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, was born at Oxford
about the year 1517. He was educated in the school ad¬
joining to Magdalene College, of which he was a chorister,
and where also, in 1539, he was elected probationer, and
fellow the following year. About the year 1546, having
quitted his fellowship, he applied himself to the study ot
physic, took the degree of bachelor in that faculty in 155o,
and practised as a physician at Oxford. Being inclined
to the Protestant religion, this probably was only a pru¬
dent suspension of his final intentions during the reign
of Queen Mary; for on the accession of Elizabeth he re-
sumed the study of divinity, became a celebrated preach¬
er, and was made dean of Christ-Church and vice-chan¬
cellor of the university, having taken the degrees ot ba¬
chelor and doctor in divinity. In 1569 he was mace
Dean of Gloucester, and the year following bishop or
Lincoln ; but in 1584 he was translated to the see o Win¬
chester, in which city he died, on the 28th of April laJ-t.
The several writers who have mentioned Dr Cooper unani¬
mously describe him as an eloquent preacher, a learne
divine, and a good man. He wrote, 1. The Epitome o)
Chronicles, from the seventeenth year after Christ to 1 >
and thence to 1560 ; 2. Thesaurus LinguceRomanceetm-
tannicce, and Dictionarium Histoncum et. Poeticum> i •>
folio; which was so much valued by Queen Eliza e ,
she determined to promote the author; 3. A Bno P
sition ofsuch Chapters of the Old Testament as are usi-
coo
ally read in the church at common prayer on Sundays
throughout the year, 1573, 4to ; 4. An Admonition to the
people of England, 1589, 4to; 5. Some Sermons.
Cooper, John Gilbert, a miscellaneous writer, was born
in 1723, and descended from an ancient family in the
county of Nottingham, whose fortune was injured in the
last century by their attachment to the principles of mo¬
narchy. He resided atThurgarton Priory, in Nottingham¬
shire, which had been granted by King Henry VIII. to
William Cooper, one of his ancestors. This mansion Mr
Cooper inherited from his father, who in 1739 was high
sheriffof the county,and transmitted it to his son,whofilled
the same respectable office in 1783. After passing through
Westminster school under Dr John Nicoll, along with Lord
Albemarle, Lord Buckinghamshire, Major Johnson, Mr
George Ashby, and many other eminent and ingenious
persons, he became, in 1743, a fellow commoner of Trinity
College, Cambridge, and resided there two or three years ;
but he quitted the university on his marriage with Susan¬
na, the daughter of William Wrighte, Esq. son of the lord
iteeper of that name, and also recorder of Leicester from
1729 to 1763. In the year 1745 he commenced author,
by the publication of The Power of Harmony, a poem,
in 4to; and in 1746 and 1747 he produced several essays
and poems under the signature of Philalethes, in a pe¬
riodical work called The Museum, published by Mr Dods-
ley. In the same year he came forward as an author,
under his own name, in a work which received much as¬
sistance from his friend the Rev. John Jackson of Leices¬
ter, who communicated several learned notes, in which
he contrived to manifest his dislike to his formidable an¬
tagonist Mr Warburton. It was entitled The Life of So¬
crates, collected from the Memorabilia of Xenophon and
the Dialogues of Plato, and illustrated further by Aristotle,
Diodorus Siculus, Cicero, Proclus, Apuleius, Maximus
Tyrius, Boethius, Diogenes Laertius, Aulus Gellius, and
others, 1749, 8vo. In this work Mr Cooper gave evident
marks of a superior genius, warm, impetuous, and impa¬
tient of restraint. In 1754 Mr Cooper published his Let¬
ters on Taste, 8vo; an elegant little volume, on which no
small share of his reputation is founded : and in 1/55 ap¬
peared The Tomb of Shakspeare, a Vision, 4to ; a tolerable
performance, in which, however, there is more of wit and
application than of nature or genius. In 1756 he assisted
Mr Moore, by writing some numbers of the World ; and
he attempted to rouse the indignation ot his countrymen
against the Hessians, who had recently been brought over
to defend the nation, in a poem called The Genius of
Britain, addressed to Mr Pitt. In 1758 he published
Epistles to the Great, from Aristippus in Retirement, 4to;
The Call of Aristippus, Epistle IV. to Mark Akenside,
M.D.; and also, A Fathers Advice to his Son, in 4to. In
the Annual Register of the same year appeared his Trans¬
lation of an Epistle from the King of Prussia to Monsieur
Voltaire. In 1759 he published Ver Vert, or the Nunnery
Parrot, an Heroic Poem, in four cantos, inscribed to the
Abbess of D. translated from the French of Monsieur
Gresset, 4to, and reprinted in the first volume of Dilly s
Repository, 1777; and, in 1764, Poems on Several Sub¬
jects, by the Author of the Life of Socrates, with a pie-
fatory advertisement by Mr Dodsley. In this little volume
were included all the separate poetical pieces which have
been already mentioned, excepting Ver Vert, which is a
sprightly composition. Mr Cooper died at his father s
house in May Fair, on the 17th of April 1/69, aftei a
long and excruciating illness arising from calculus in the
bladder.
COORG, a mountainous and woody district of South¬
ern India, among the western Ghauts, situated between
the province of Mysore and the British province ot Mala-
COP
307
gen.
bar. This country is considered as extending from the Cooserah
Tambacherry Pass on the south, to the confines of the Bed- II
nore country on the north. The mountains produce san- Copenha-
dal wood of the very best species, teak timber, rice, pep- .
per, and some other spices. 1 he woods also abound with
elephants and ferocious animals, especially timers. It con¬
tains scarcely any towns, and of late years the rajah and
his family have resided in the fortress .of Mercara. The
rajahs of Coorg are of the Nair caste of Hindus. They are
mentioned in history as early as the year 1583, and the
present family have reigned since 1632. They retained
their independence till the year 1773, when Hyder Ali,
who had in vain attempted to subdue them, found an op¬
portunity for interfering in a dispute about the succession,
and, by the destruction of one of the parties, and the
captivity of the other, took possession of the country.
Upon Tippoo’s accession to the sovereignty he ordered the
royal family to be removed from Bednore to the fort of
Periapatam, whence having made his escape in the year
1778, his faithful subjects crowded to his standard, and
drove the armies of Tippoo from his dominions. In the war
which the British declared against Tippoo in the year 1791
they found the rajah of Coorg a useful auxiliary, and it
was insisted by Lord Cornwallis as one of the primary ar¬
ticles of peace, that he should be rendered independent
of Tippoo’s authority, and that Coorg shopld be one of the
ceded territories. In the year 1799, on the downfal of
Tippoo, the rajah of Coorg was rewarded by the free and
uncontrolled management of his own territories. The
country has recently enjoyed a state of tranquillity; it is
fast recovering from the calamities of war, and now ex¬
ports considerable quantities of grain to Mysore. The
river Cavery has its source in Coorg, but does not attain
to any magnitude until it enters the province of Mysore.
COOSERAH, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Bahar. Itformerly possessed one of those strong forts which
are so common, and which enabled the Zemindars to defy
the authority of government. It is forty-eight miles S.E.
from Patna. Long. 85. 47. E. Lat. 28. 6. N.
COOTRA, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Allahabad, situated on the south side of the river Betwah,
sixty-four miles N. by W. from Chatterpoor. In 1807 the
districts of Cootra and Puway were restored by the British
government to their legitimate owner, Rajah Bukht Sing,
a Bundeleund chief. Long. 79. 28. E. Lat. 25. 45. N.
COPARCENARY, the share or quota of a coparcener.
COPARCENERS (from con, together, and particeps,
partner) or Parceners, such as have equal portions in
the inheritance of their ancestor.
COPE, an ecclesiastical ornament, usually worn by
chanters and subchanters when they officiate on solemn
occasions. It reaches from the shoulders to the feet. The
ancients called it Pluviale. The word is also used to sig¬
nify the roof or covering of a house.
COPENHAGEN, the capital of the Danish dominions.
It is situated on the Baltic Sea, on both sides of the narrow
strait which separates the island of A mack from Zealand.
It contains a population of 103,166 individuals, including
2442 Jews, and the military, amounting to 4000. It is
probably an ancient city, but there are no notices of it
earlier than 1043, when it came into the hands of a bishop,
whose successors, in 1168, formed the haven and forti¬
fied it.
Copenhagen is chiefly built upon land which has been
recovered from the sea, and is consequently a flat place, and
has canals navigable for large vessels, which extend to the
centre of the city. The trade is considerable with most
parts of the world; and it is the naval arsenal where ships
of war are built and repaired, and where the national mi¬
litary and marine stores are kept. It is a beautiful city,
308 COP
Coperni- with large squares, broad streets, and respectable buildings,
cus. both public and private. Being situated in a fertile and
highly cultivated district, the markets are well and cheaply
supplied with every necessary of domestic produce. It is
well supplied with fresh water, which is conveyed by pipes
from two reservoirs near the city, and another about two
miles distant. The institutions for the poor, for education,
for medical instruction, and for quarantine, are well plan¬
ned ; and the police is well regulated. The university of
Copenhagen numbers upwards of thirty professors, and
from seven to eight hundred students. It is well endowed
with estates, as well as with funded property, from which
stipends are paid, and money issued to pay the expenses
of travellers in distant countries.
It has a botanical garden, an astronomical observatory,
a surgical and veterinary school, an academy for the fine
arts, and a large and valuable library. There are, too,
different societies for the promotion of different branches
of knowledge. The collections of various kinds are very re¬
spectable ; and the royal library consists of nearly 400,000
volumes. The museums of natural history, of anatomy,
of geography, of mineralogy, of antiquities, and of ancient
coins, are rich in their respective kinds of treasures. 1 here
are several collections of paintings, among which those in
the palace are by the first foreign, and some excellent
ones by Danish artists. The collection of copperplates in
the royal library consists of 267 volumes, containing more
than 81,000 impressions.
The royal palace in the centre of the city, begun after
the fire in 1794, is not yet quite completed. It is a mag¬
nificent pile, being a square of 370 feet, 114 feet in height,
built on a foundation of 10,000 piles. The church within
it is a most beautiful place of worship. Many of the
churches, and most of the official buildings, display much
taste and knowledge of architecture. It it were not for
the climate, which is variable in an uncommon degree, few
of the capital cities of Europe would form a more desirable
place of residence. The winter is sometimes excessively
cold. Long. 12. 30. 54. E. Lat. 55. 51. 4. N.
COPERNICAN, in general, any thing belonging to
Copernicus. Hence
CopernicaN System or Hypothesis, that system of the
world in which the sun is supposed to be at rest in the
centre, and the planets, with the earth, to move in ellipses
round him.
COPERNICUS, Nicolas, was born at Thorn, in Prus¬
sia, on the 19th February 1473. Zernecke, in his Chro¬
nicle of Thorn, affirms that he was the son of a peasant
serf, and that his name was Zopernick ; but the common¬
ly received opinion is, that he was descended from a fa¬
mily of distinction in that part of the Prussian territory ;
and, indeed, the circumstances of his education are in¬
compatible with the supposition of his having been of ser¬
vile origin. The first elements of learning he acquired in
his paternal mansion, where he seems to have been ini¬
tiated in the rudiments of Greek and Latin ; and he then
went to prosecute his studies at Cracow, where he applied
himself to philosophy and medicine, and ultimately took
the degree of doctor in the latter department of science.
But having, from his earliest years, evinced a strong pas¬
sion for the mathematics, he followed with avidity the
lessons which he received, and soon signalized himself by
uncommon proficiency therein. He also studied astronomy,
and familiarized himself with the use of the instruments
then employed in astronomical observations. At that
time, Regiomontanus enjoyed the highest reputation as an
astronomer; and so much was Copernicus dazzled wdth
the lustre which this celebrated man had shed upon the
science of which he was accounted so great a master, that
the young enthusiast resolved to undertake a journey into
COP
Italy for the purpose of visiting him; and, in order that C0v
he might profit to the utmost by his tour, he applied him- (
self to painting and design, in which he made considerable V<
progress. At the age of twenty-three he set out for Italy,
and passed some time at Bologna, where he attended the
prelections of the astronomer Dominico Maria, and also
made some astronomical observations. He then proceeded
to Rome, where he was kindly received by Regiomontanus,
and honoured with his friendship, as he had previously
been with that of Professor Maria at Bologna. Here he was
appointed to a chair of mathematics, which he filled with
much distinction, continuing at the same time to extend
both his knowledge and his reputation. But after some
years he returned to his native country, where he was
most favourably received on account of his great acquire¬
ments, combined with the simplicity and amenity of his
manners. At length he took up his residence at Frauen-
burg, where his uucle, Bishop of Warmia, procured him a
canonry\ But owing to the conflicting claims and unjust
pretensions of others, this situation did not immediately
afford him the leisure and tranquillity which it promised,
and he was for some time involved in ungrateful disputes
and vexatious contentions. His clear right, however, aid¬
ed by his firmness and constancy, soon carried him through
all his difficulties; and he afterwards enjoyed that peace¬
ful calm alike congenial to his disposition, and favourable
to the pursuit in which he had so zealously embarked.
Having accomplished this object, he then divided his time
into three portions, one of which he employed in assisting
in the divine offices, another in dispensing medical advice
gratuitously to the poor, and a third in the prosecution of
his favourite studies. The house which he then occupied
is still to be seen at Allenstein, with the perforations
which he had made in the walls of his chamber in order
to observe the passage of the stars across the meridian;
and there are also shown the remains of a hydraulic ma¬
chine, similar to that at Marly, which he had constructed
for the purpose of raising the water of a rivulet for the
supply of Frauenburg. But although he lived in a state
of retirement and seclusion, devoted to his clerical duties
and the pursuits of science, this did not prevent him from
undertaking the administration of the temporalities of the
bishopric, which was several times confided to him during
vacancies of the see ; a trust which required both probity
and courage, and which he executed in a manner highly
honourable to his character. He had, in fact, to delend
the rights and privileges of the bishopric against the en¬
croachments of the Teutonic knights, who were then very
powerful; and this duty he discharged without being either
dazzled by their authority or intimidated by their threats.
We mention this, foreign as it may seem to the object of
a notice like the present, in order to show that the spirit
of study and contemplation was, in his character, united
with firmness and constancy; qualities which are not less
necessary than genius for attacking and subverting preju¬
dices, hallowed, as it wrere, by the belief or the credulity
of ages. '
Copernicus had seen and conversed with the most cele¬
brated astronomers of his own time. He knew the labours
of the ancients, and he was also astonished at the compli¬
cation of their systems, no less than the discordance and
want of symmetry which these supposed in the arrange¬
ment of "the universe. He therefore determined to re¬
examine all these systems, to study them comparatively,
to distinguish in each whatever might seem most pro¬
bable as well as natural, and to try whether it might not
be possible to combine the whole in a single system, at
once more symmetrical and more simple. Amidst t e
variety of hypotheses which thus engaged his attention,
two forcibly struck his mind, and therefore deserve parti'
COPERNICUS.
„ cular attention ;—that of the Egyptians, who made Mer¬
cury and Venus revolve round the sun, but who neverthe-
> less carried Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and the Sun himself,
round the earth ;—and that of Apollonius Pergaeus, who
chose the sun as the common centre of all the planetary
movements, but who made that luminary revolve round the
earth like the moon ; an arrangement which afterwards be¬
came the basis of the system of Tycho Brahe. The circum¬
stance which particularly fixed the attention of Coperni¬
cus on these hypotheses was, that they represented admi¬
rably the limited excursions of Mars and Venus around the
sun, and explained their movements, direct, stationary, and
retrograde; an advantage, indeed, which the hypothesis of
Apollonius extended even to the superior planets. Thus
the astronomical systems were already to him only play¬
things of fancy. He had tried them by the test of expe¬
riment and observation ; he had found the conditions which
it was necessary they should satisfy; and as he knew the
means by which alone they were to be judged of, the most
difficult part of his discovery was already made. On the
other hand, he saw that the Pythagoreans had removed the
earth from the centre of the world, and had there placed
the sun; and hence it appeared to him that the system of
Apollonius would become more simple and symmetrical
by only changing this circumstance; namely, rendering
the sun fixed in the centre, and making the earth to re¬
volve around him. He had also perceived that Nicetas,
Heraclides, and other philosophers, in placing the earth
in the centre of the wrorld, had ventured to give it a
movement of rotation round its axis, in order to produce
the phenomena of the rising and setting of the stars,
and the alternations of day and night; nor could he fail
to be even more forcibly struck with the bold conception
ofPhilolaus, who, removing the earth from the centre of
the world, had not only given it a movement of rotation
round an axis, but also a movement of annual circulation
or revolution round the sun ; and although it might then
appear difficult, and even absurd, to displace the earth
from the centre, in order to make it a simple planet, never¬
theless, as he observed that the astronomers had hitherto
conceived themselves at liberty to imagine circles in the
heavens to represent the celestial phenomena, he thought
that he might in like manner be permitted to try if he
could invent some other arrangement which would esta¬
blish a more simple order in the movement of the hea¬
venly bodies. And thus, taking in each system whatever
was true, and rejecting whatever was false and compli¬
cated, he at length composed that admirable whole, which
is now called, after him, the Copernican System, and which
is, in reality, the true arrangement of the planetary move¬
ments, such as it has been established by evidence which
can never be shaken.
i About the year 1507 Copernicus began to digest the
ideas of which we have here traced the gradual formation,
and to write down his discoveries; but, as has been al¬
ready observed, he did not confine himself to general ap¬
pearances, nor remain satisfied with their accordance or
conformity to the great law which he had thus detected.
He felt that, to prove his system, it was necessary to
enter into detail, and even to calculate particular pheno¬
mena, in order to deduce therefrom tables of all the celes¬
tial notions; and thus to afford the means of predicting
them with all the simplicity and precision which the grand¬
ness of the conception itself, and the first trials which
it had undergone, seemed equally to promise. This was
309
ie labour of his whole life. He set himself to make ob- Coperni-
servations ; he collected and combined those which had cus.
been made by others; and, in particular, he studied to
deduce from his theory those phenomena of the system
of the world which had hitherto appeared the most com-
pheated, such as the stations and retrogressions of the
planets, and the precession of the equinoxes. Lastly,
when he conceived that he had accumulated sufficient
observations and proofs, he undertook to expound the
whole of his discoveries, in a work divided into six books,
and entitled De Orbhon Galestium Revolutionibus, in which
he unfolds his ideas nearly in the order in which we have
here endeavoured to present them, and subjects the whole
of astronomy to the dominion of a single principle or
law. It appears that this work was completed about the
year 1530, when Copernicus had attained the age of fifty-
seven ; and it certainly forms one of the proudest monu¬
ments of genius and sagacity, happily united with patient
thinking and persevering research, which any age or coun¬
try has produced.
The fame of his discoveries had already been bruited
abroad; the most celebrated astronomers became impa¬
tient to see them fully developed, and he was pressed to
publish them to the world ; but, resisting all importuni¬
ties, he still deferred, correcting daily the data with which
more exact observations furnished him, and adding what¬
ever further reflection supplied: perhaps, also, he was
afraid to endanger his peace, by submitting himself to the
judgment of his contemporaries; and this apprehension
was unhappily but too well founded. There is nothing
so confident in itself, or so intolerant, as ignorance. Show
the truth to men, and if the object interest them but
little, they will perhaps pardon your doing so ; but if you
wish to root from their minds an opinion which they
have long admitted without question, and believed with¬
out inquiry, be it a prejudice ever so groundless and un¬
tenable, the fact of their having constantly admitted it is
of itself sufficient to offend their pride, perhaps even to
arm their hostility, against him who may have proved
himself more cautious or more sceptical than themselves.
Of this we have a striking example in the case of Coper¬
nicus. Whilst the most distinguished men of learning and
science, the only proper judges in such matters, ranged
themselves on the side of the new discoveries, the com¬
mon herd were discomposed by them, and attempted either
to denounce them as extravagant, or to represent them as
absurd and chimerical. Copernicus, in fact, was about to
be publicly ridiculed in a comedy, as Socrates had been
by Aristophanes; but the respectable character of this
great man, perhaps also the silence which he had hitherto
observed, preserved him from this insult, and he who had
so unworthily attacked him became an object of general
contempt. After this need we be astonished that Galileo
and Descartes were persecuted, and that even Newton
should have hesitated to give his great discoveries to the
world ? Nevertheless, Copernicus seems to have felt that,
in delaying longer the publication of his researches, he
would be leaving the field open to ignorance ; and that the
exposition of troths so evident, accompanied with proofs
so numerous and palpable, would be the best means of
refuting the charges which presumptuous ignorance had
by anticipation brought against his opinions. According¬
ly, he permitted his friends to publish his book, which he
dedicated to Pope Paul III.; in order, as he says, that he
might not be accused of seeking to shun the judgment of
In 1540, Tycho Brahe sent Olaus, one of his pupils, to measure at Frauenburg the height of the pole on the tower where Coper¬
nicus had made his observations. He also preserved with religious care the parallactic instrument, composed of two wooden rules,
mded each into 1414 parts, which Copernicus had himself constructed for his own use.
I
COP
enlightened men, and that the authority of his holiness,
if he approved of the work, might protect him from the
baleful tooth of calumny.
The work was printed at Nuremberg, under the super¬
intendence of Rheticus, one of the disciples of Copernicus.
The impression had just been completed, and the first copy
transmitted by Rheticus to his great master and friend,
when Copernicus, who had all his life enjoyed the most
perfect health, was attacked with dysentery, followed al¬
most immediately by a paralysis of the right side, which
again was accompanied with loss of memory and an ob¬
scuration of the understanding. In this melancholy state
he lingered for several days. On that of his death, and
only a few hours before he expired, the copy of his work
sent by Rheticus arrived, and was placed in his hands. He
saw it, touched it, and seemed conscious what it was ; but,
after regarding it for an instant, relapsed into a state of
insensibility, which soon terminated in death. He died
on the 24th May 1543, at the age of seventy. His tomb,
which is not distinguished from that of the other canons,
was, in 1581, adorned with a Latin epitaph by Bishop
Cromer, the Titus Livius of Poland ; and in 1800 a small
monument was erected in honour of the illustrious dis¬
coverer of the true system of the heavens. The first work
in which the labours of Copernicus were formally announ¬
ced, in contradistinction to the notions which had hitherto
prevailed, was a letter published by Rheticus, and entitled
Ad Clar. V. d. Schonerum de Libris Revolutionum erudi-
tiss. viri et Mathematici excellent)sa. Rev. Doctoris Nicolai
Copernici Tor mm ad, Canonici Warmiensis, per quemdam
juvenem Mathematicce studiosum, Narratio pr 'ima, Uantzic,
1540, 4to ; reprinted, with an eulogium, at Basil, 1541,
8vo. The works of Copernicus are, 1. De Revolutionibus
Orbium Coelestium, libri VI. Nuremberg, 1543, small
folio ; reprinted at Basil in 1566, with the letter of Rheti¬
cus, and also included in the Astronomic) Instciurato of
Nicolas Muler, Amsterdam, 1617 and 1640, 4to ; 2. A
treatise on trigonometry, with tables of sines, entitled De
Lateribus et Angrdis Wittemberg, 1542, 4to ;
3. Theophylactici Scholastici Sinwcattce Epistolce morales,
rurales, et amatorice, cum versione Latina. In 1521, Co¬
pernicus presented to the states of his provinces a woik
on money ; and several manuscript treatises of his are still
preserved in the library of the bishopric of Warmia. His
life has been written by Gassendi, and immediately fol¬
lows that of Tycho Brahe.
Chronique de Thorny Berlin, 1727 ; Lalande, Bibliogra-
phie Astronomique, p. 63 ; Aunales des Voyages, tome i.
p. 361; Biographic Universelle, v. Copernicus. (a>)
COPHTI, Copti, or Cophts, a name given to the
Christians of Egypt, who are of the sect of Jacobites, or
rather Cobites, and descended from the ancient native po¬
pulation of the country.
The critics are much divided as to the origin and or¬
thography of the word. Some write it Cophti or Copti,
others Cophtites, Cophtitse, Copts, and so on. Scaliger
derives the name from Coptos, anciently the metropolis of
the Thebaid. Kircher, however, maintains that the word
originally signifies “cut” or “ circumscribed,” and that it
was given to these people because of their practice of cir¬
cumcising; which is evidently absurd, as circumcision could
neither be a distinction nor a reproach in a country where
the rite was generally practised. Scaliger afterwards
changed his opinion, and derived the word from Ar/vnrc$
(quasi dicas Ai-YOU-rcg) Egypt, by retrenching the first
syllable; and this is the true etymology, GOP or KOP
being manifestly the basis or root of the word which the
Greeks wrote Aiyuvrog, and probably at first Aiyovrog. For
an account of the state of the Coptic population of Egypt,
see the article Egypt.
cop
COPHTIC, or Coptic, the language of the Cophts, Q.
being the language of the ancient Egyptians, mixed with .
a little Greek, and written in letters which are chiefly T,
Greek, though fashioned on the model of the enchorial, w
demotic, or civil characters of the country. It has a form
and construction peculiar to itself, having no inflections of
the nouns or verbs, but expressing number, case, gender,
person, mood, and tense, and forming the possessive pro¬
nouns by means of letters and particles prefixed.
Kircher is the first who published a grammar and voca¬
bulary of the Cophtic. ihe only books extant in the
Cophtic are translations of the Scriptures, or of ecclesias¬
tical offices, and others that relate thereto, as grammars
and dictionaries.
Copthic Liturgies. Of these there are three; one at¬
tributed to Basil,'another to St Gregory, and a third to
Cyril. They have been translated into Arabic, for the use
of the priests and people. _ _ n '
COPIAPO, the most northern province of Chili, in
South America. It contains an area of 18,750 square
miles. It has a dry and sterile aspect, except in those
places where streams irrigate and .fertilize the soil, giving
birth to luxuriant vegetation. The rains are here of rare
occurrence, and the showers which do fall are so trifling,
and so soon exhaled by solar influence, that vegetation
derives but little permanent good from them. Ihere are
mines of gold in this province; but the richest are those
of silver and copper, the ores of which generally contain
sulphur, lead, arsenic, and other mineral substances. The
copper mines are much the most numerous; but only
those whose ores yield half their weight of metal are ac¬
counted worthy of being wrought. Copiapo, the capital
city of this province, is situated on a river of the same
name, about twelve leagues from the Pacific Ocean. It
is the seaport of the district, and here the products of the
latter are shipped. Copiapo contains about 10,000 inha¬
bitants.
COPIATA, under the western empire, a grave-digger.
In the first ages of the church there were clerks destined
for this employment. In the year 357, Constantine made
a law in favour of the priests copiatae, or of those who had
the care of interments, exempting them from the lustral
contribution, which all other traders paid. It was under
him also that they first began to be called copiata, or
clerks destined for bodily labour, from xoffos, or x<wrw, scindo,
ccedo,ferio, I cut, I beat, &c. Before that time they were
called decani and lecticarii; probably because they were
divided into decades or tens, each of which had a bier or
litter for the carriage of dead bodies. Their place among
the clerks was the next in order before the chanters.
COPPER must be treated both as a metaland asami-
neral. Under the first head, its history and uses may be
described; and under the second, its characters and com¬
binations, as it occurs in nature.
Copper got the name of Venus among the alchymists,
on account of the facility with which it unites with other
metallic bodies, ; i
Gold, silver, and brass are the metals which are hrst
mentioned in history, being those which occur frequently
in a native or pure state; and although the quantity thus
produced may bear but a small proportion to the whole,
yet the advancement of science requisite to separate the
metal from its ore sufficiently accounts for the precedence
which these have taken over all others.
The metal called brass, in sacred and profane history,
and which was employed for the purpose of money, was,
in fact, the copper of modern times; whilst the brass of the
present day is an alloy of copper, mixed according to the
purpose for which the alloy may be required. See the ar¬
ticle Brass.
/
COP
The ancients, at a very early period, discovered the be-
s nefit derivable from the mixture of copper with other me¬
tals, as the alloy constantly produced a harder and a more
durable substance, and at the same time was no disadvan¬
tage to the material in melting or casting. It was em¬
ployed in many of the illustrious works which the ancients
left for the admiration of succeeding times. The enor¬
mous statue of the Sun, known by the name of the Colos¬
sus of Rhodes, erected by Chares of Lyndus, an eleve of
Lysippus, was composed entirely of this metal: and many
others are m ntioned, which prove that the ancients were
at least as well acquainted with the difficult art of work¬
ing in brass as we are at the present time.
In a pure state, copper is a very brilliant metal, and sus¬
ceptible of a high polish. It is of a fine red colour, dif¬
fering from every other metal except titanium. Its spe¬
cific gravity varies according to its density, from 8'584 to
8-9. According to Brard, the cubic foot of melted cop¬
per weighs 545 lbs.
Of native metal   600 lbs.
Ofcqpper medals 620 lbs.
In a native state, it is not an uncommon mineral. It oc¬
curs in arborescent groups, very beautifully crystallized,
in Siberia, imbedded in limestone, and in very considerable
masses. In the cabinet of Ajuda, near Lisbon, a mass
of native copper is said to be preserved, of the enormous
weight of 2617 pounds (Brard). In Cornwall it occurs in
many of the mines, and also in the island of Anglesea ; and
in the island of Nalsoc, one of the Faroe group, it occurs
very beautifully crystallized, along with zeolite, imbedded
in amygdaloidal trap.
Great as the use to which copper was applied by the
ancients, it was very limited compared with the uses it has
been put to in modern times.
Metallic copper is used for culinary vessels in many
parts of Europe; but for this purpose the inner surface
of the vessel should be tinned. Large vessels for distil¬
ling, brewing, dyeing, and the like processes, are made of
copper. The making of these vessels constitutes the or¬
dinary business of the coppersmith.
Copper rolled into sheets is employed for covering the
wooden work of the roofs of churches and large edifices in
Germany, Sweden, and other countries. It is a costly co¬
vering, and does not possess any notable advantage over
lead.
A modern, and now a very extensive use of sheet-cop¬
per, is for the sheathing of ships. That part of the hull
of the ship that is in the water is covered with sheet-cop¬
per. This covering preserves the wood from the attacks
of the worm, and thereby gives the ship the advantage of
! passing more rapidly through the water, as the copper bot-
j tom remains always smooth; for sea-weed and shells will
not take root and attach themselves to copper, as they do
to the bare planks, owing to the galvanic effect produced
by the action of the sea water. As this action, however,
produces a rapid decay of copper, it was proposed by Sir
Humphry Davy to neutralize it by applying metallic pro¬
tectors, an object which he accomplished; but as this
also deprived the copper of the effect it was intended to
produce, and allowed the molluscous tribes to attach them¬
selves, the protecting process was abandoned.
Its malleability and ductility are very considerable. A
wireofO'OTS of an inch diameter will support 302 pounds
avoirdupois.
Copper bolts are used for fastening the planks and tim¬
bers of ships. This is a modern improvement in ship-build¬
ing. A copper-fastened ship or boat is preferable to one
with iron fastenings, because the copper bolts remain un¬
altered by rust, and endure longer than the wood which
they hold together, particularly when used in the state
COP 311
of alloy, which preserves it from waste by neutralizing Copper,
the galvanic action.
For the frames of delicate dipping needles and magne¬
tic compasses, copper is employed; as it has been found
that the brass generally used in philosophical instruments
sometimes contains iron, which of course might affect the
magnetic needle.
Copper is drawn into wire, used for the communication
with the bells in houses, and for other purposes.
Small pipes for conveying the pit-coal gas from the level
of the street to the aperture by which the gas issues, were
made of copper or of brass till superseded by tin. These
pipes were fitted on an iron cylindrical mandril, and a cy¬
lindrical ring is drawn over the outside. By this means
copper and brass tubes are drawn out. The brass tubes
for telescopes are drawn out in the same manner.
The mixture, consisting of a large proportion of copper
and a small proportion of silver, called billon in France, is
used for coins of small value in that country, in Germany,
and in other parts of Europe. In Britain this alloy is not
now used ; all coins being made either of standard gold,
of standard silver, or of copper. The use of billon is
objectionable, as it renders the value of the coins uncer¬
tain.
Copper may be plated; that is, its surface may be co¬
vered with a layer of silver, by rubbing the surface with
a mixture of nitrate of silver, muriate of soda, and acidu¬
lous tartrate of potass (cream of tartar). But the method
practised at Birmingham is the most peemanent and ef¬
fectual. A plate of copper, with a plate of silver applied to
it, and borax placed in the interstice, is heated to a parti¬
cular degree, which it requires the skill of the workman
to know; a degree of heat, in short, near that at which
copper and silver melt. The two metals thus heated, and
in contact, are then taken out of the furnace and passed
through rollers. There is a fusion and combination of the
adjacent surfaces; and their adhesion is perfected by the
pressure of the rollers. Copper thus plated is manufac¬
tured at Birmingham into candlesticks, teapots, buttons,
buckles, and a variety of other articles.
Standard silver coins contain a small proportion of cop¬
per, for the purpose of giving them hardness. This pro¬
portion is regulated by each government in Europe, and
varies a little in different countries. The combination of
gold and copper in various proportions is used for making
rings and other trinkets.
Copper is gilded by applying on its surface an amalgam
of gold with mercury. Bronze ornaments are gilded in
the same way.
Copper united with tin forms bronze. This combination
is hard and brittle if the proportion of tin be great; but
when the proportion of tin is small, the bronze is soft, and
possesses tenacity so as not to be easily broken. The an¬
cients employed hard bronze, containing much tin, in
making sword blades, spear heads, hatchets, and cutting
instruments. Bronze cramps are found in ancient build¬
ings in Egypt. Statues and bas-reliefs, various culinary
vessels, and different kinds of instruments of soft bronze,
are seen in the collections of antiquities. In modern times
soft bronze is used for casting cannon and statues.
Copper melted with a large proportion of tin constitutes
bell metal, which is hard and brittle. The metal of which
the Chinese gongs are made is composed ol the same in¬
gredients ; and it has the property of being in some de¬
gree malleable at a certain stage of its cooling, for the
gongs are covered with marks of the hammer.
To obtain copper from the yellow sulphuret or copper
pyrites, which is the most common copper ore, it is neces¬
sary to smelt the ore several times before the metallic
copper is obtained free from sulphur. The slag or scoriae
312
COP
Copper, produced in these smeltings is formed into large bricks,
used in building and coping walls in Wales and some other
parts of Britain, in the vicinity of which the smelting ot
copper is carried on. . . „
The chief use made of the native combinations ot cop¬
per found in the earth is to extract the metallic copper
from them. Sulphur is sometimes manufactured in treat¬
ing the copper pyrites.
Oxide of copper obtained from the annealing that cop¬
per and brass wire undergoes, is used in dyeing.
In enamel colouring, oxide of copper, at a low degree
of oxidation, produces an opaque-rfed or brown.sh-red ena¬
mel, called porporino. When the copperas more oxidated,
it gives a green colour in enamelling upon earthenware and
norcelain, and in stained glass. ,
P Sulphate of copper, when concentrated or crystaU ized,
is transparent and blue. It is manufactured lor the use o
thM«ateaof coppe'ris"also blue. If fragments of soft
wood, such as poplar or fir, be impregnated with a sola-
tion of this salt, these sticks, when dried, burn gradual¬
ly to the end, and may serve as quick-match foi bring
Muriate of copper is green ; that which is formed by di¬
rect solution of copper in muriatic acid is transparent, and
soluble in water; but the native muriate of copper, with
excess of oxide, is insoluble. This is found in Peiu in
the form oi* green sand, and has got the name of ataca-
mite, from the district of country in which it occurs.
Being opaque, it is used in painting.
Verdigris (Verdit-gris) is an acetate of copper with
excess of oxide. It'is prepared in the wine districts ot
the south of France, by laying copper plates in strata al¬
ternately with the grape stalks and husks from which the
juice has been pressed. The fermentation of the husks
produces vinegar, which acts upon the copper. Verdi-
!ms is used in painting, because it possesses, on account
of its excess of oxide, the opacity necessary for making
a coloured paste with oil; it is also used in dyeing.
Crystallized acetate of copper is the acetate without ex¬
cess'of oxide: it is in green crystals, and is also used in
^Scheele’s green is an opaque precipitate, 0i a grass-green
colour, composed of copper and arsenic. It is used in oil-
Palprussi"ate of copper is an opaque-brown precipitate,
formed by adding prussiate of potash to a solution of sul¬
phate of copper, and may be used in painting. Ihe co¬
lour, however, wants durability.
Average Quantity of Fine Copper raised in Cornwall
Tons.
1799 to 1808, ten years  5,820 per annum.
1809 to 1818,   6,522
1819 to 1828,  
1829 to 1832, four years 11,0JJ
COP
Sold at Swansea, produce of Mines in Ireland, Woks, ■
sundry other places.
Produce of the Copper Mines of Cornwall.
Years.
1820
1825
1830
1831
1832
Tons Ore.
91,473
107,454
133,904
144,402
137,357
Tons Metal.
7,508
8,226
10,748
12,043
11,947
Sold for
£ s. d.
602,441 12 0
726,353 12 0
773,846 4 0
806,090 15 6
825,612 6 0
Years. Tons Ore. Tons Metal.
1821
1825
1830
1831
1832
3,579
7,706
13,309
12,999
15,350
Sold for
344
729
1196
1240
1320
£ s. d.
31,159 14 6
68,506 17 6
94,968 11 0
91,509 4 6
98,224 11 6
Copper Imported and Exported.-
Years.
Tons
Foreign Copper
imported.
Tons
Foreign Copper
exported.
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
72
398
626
2107
137
632
890
575
398
850
367
394
Tons
British Copper
exported.
71
167
680
1092
1240
262
1061
625
220
841
176
114
6096
6270
5680
5322
5301
3926
4799
7171
6206
7976
9157
8536
Copper, considered as a mineral. See Mineralogy,
Indcjc*
Copper-Black, disintegrated copper pyrites, produ¬
ced by decomposition. See Mineralogy.
Copper-Emerald. See Dioptase.
Copper-Glance, the fahlerz of the Germans. See
Mineralogy. 0
Copper-Green, the chrysocolla of Jameson. See Mi¬
neralogy. . - , ..
Copper-Mica, cuivre arsemate lamelliform, Hauy.
See Mineralogy. . c
Copper-Pyrites, variegated pyrites ot Jameson. See
Mineralogy. ... . , t f
COPPERAS, a name given to the factitious sulphate ot
ir°COPPICE, or Copse, the produce of a wood or planta¬
tion which is cut down at stated periods, and used for
firing and making charcoal, once in sixteen or seventeen
years. In Westmoreland and other copse countries these
rotations are denominated falls, and are according y ca-
culated in the valuation of lands.
COPRAJA, an island in the Mediterranean Sea, be¬
tween the extremity of Corsica and the island of Flba. 1
is of volcanic origin, but yields wine_, pulse, honey, and
wax, by trading in which articles the inhabitants, who a
1500, procure subsistence. The chief town is Tratozzi •
Long. 9. 42. 52. E. Lat. 43. 0. 18. N- fi.a.
COPTOS, in Ancient Geography, a trading town ot t
Thebais, at some distance from the Nile, inhabited by
Egyptians and Arabs; now Kypt.
COPY, in a law sense, a transcript of a writing or in
strument, made for the use and satisfaction of some of the
parties concerned, or in order to preserve the documen
ltSCoPY is also used for an imitation of any original work,,
particularly a painting, draught, figure, or the like.
Copy, among printers, denotes the manuscnp
ginal of a book put into the hands of the compositor.
313
COPYRIGHT.
L Copyright denotes the property which an author has
v in his literary works, or which a bookseller, or any other
person, may acquire by purchase ; a property consisting,
in either case, in the exclusive right to print, publish, and
sell a particular work. The subject involves two impor¬
tant inquiries; one the obligation imposed by law to sacri¬
fice a given number of copies to our public libraries ; the
other, a much more extensive, and, in a public sense, more
interesting question, the expediency of prolonging the du¬
ration of copyright, or the exclusive property of a book.
1. Printing became extensive in England about a cen¬
tury after its discovery; and it was in the year 1556 that
a charter was granted to the Stationers’ Company, an in¬
corporation consisting, not of venders of stationery in the
present sense of the word, but of booksellers and printers,
who, for their general benefit, determined to keep at their
hall a register, in which should be entered the title of
every new book, the name of the proprietors, and the suc¬
cessive transfers of the copyright. By-laws were enacted
by the company; fines were levied on members acting
in contravention of their regulations; and, in course of
time, these resolutions of the association were confirmed
by a well-known measure of government, we mean the
licensing act of 1662, an act prohibiting the publication
of any book unless first licensed by the lord chamber-
lain, and entered in the stationers’ register. In 1684 a new
charter was issued to the company, partly for the purpose
of securing the property of books, but more with the view
of interposing the royal interdict on any publication at
variance with the arbitrary government of Charles II. In
the more auspicious reigri of William (1691) this act was
repealed ; but whilst the liberty of the press was restored,
the door was unluckily thrown open to infractions on lite¬
rary property by clandestine editions of books. It was in
vain for the owner of a copyright to bring an action against
the trespasser; he had no other protection than common
law ; he could recover only to the extent of the “ damage
proved,” that is, he could not adduce evidence of the
tenth, or perhaps twentieth part of the damage suffered,
as he could not prove the sale of one copy out of twenty.
This led to applications to parliament in 1703 and 1706 ;
but no act was passed until 1709, when, after much dis¬
cussion, the sanction of the legislature was given to a bill,
of which the prominent features were two ; first, an obli¬
gation to deliver nine copies to as many public libraries ;
and next, a provision for guarding, by severe penalties,
the property of copyright during fourteen years. The pub-
l lie libraries entitled to the receipt of a copy each were,
The King’s Library, now transferred to the British Mu¬
seum.
The Bodleian at Oxford, and the University Library at
Cambridge.
In London, Sion College, or the Library of the London
Clergy.
In Scotland, the libraries of the universities of Edin¬
burgh, Glasgow, St Andrews, and Aberdeen, with that of
the Faculty of Advocates.
lo these were added, by a subsequent act, in 1791, two
Irish libraries, viz. Trinity College, Dublin, and the Socie¬
ty of the King’s Inns in that city, making in all eleven
copies to be delivered.
The delivery of so many copies of every new book was
a heavy sacrifice, and booksellers were indefatigable in
their efforts to evade it, giving at one time only a single
volume, and at others venturing to omit the ungracious
VOL. VII.
duty altogether. Hence a necessity for new acts of par-Copyrieht
hament, more particularly those of 1775 and 1791. Still wAAL/
these acts were not sufficiently positive ; and it having
been decided in 1798 (in the case of Beckford v. Flood)’
that publishers were not prevented by such irregularities
from obtaining damages for pirated editions, they became
more and more remiss in their deliveries. At last, in
1811, the university of Cambridge having determined to
bring the question to an issue, brought an action for the
non-delivery of Fox’s History, and obtained a verdict.
I he booksellers, finding that this act was now no longer a
dead letter, applied to parliament; but a committee of the
House of Commons, appointed in March 1813, made a
report in favour of their opponents ; and in the succeed¬
ing spring an act was passed, confirming in the most ex¬
plicit terms the claims of the public libraries, who were
not even required to pay any proportion of the price of
such books as they thought proper to require. In this the
law of England differs from that of other countries ; in se¬
veral states of the continent of Europe, and in the United
States of America, only one copy of a book is required
from an author ; in France and Austria not more than two.
2. For many years, we might more properly say for a Term of
couple of centuries, the property of a book seems to have copyright;
been considered as permanent as the property of an estate ;its succes-
shares of literary works being bought and sold without any sjve varia-
idea of their expiring. It is not till 1709 that we discovertlons*
a trace of interference with its permanency, the act of that
year defending it against intruders during fourteen years,
and no longer. The limitation, however, had no practical
effect; copyright was considered as permanent both by the
booksellers and the public ; nay by three out of the four
judges of the Court of King’s Bench, in the celebrated
trial Millar v. Taylor, which took place in 1769, and led
to a very memorable display of judicial erudition. The
plaintiff charged the defendants with a trespass in publish¬
ing an edition of Thomson’s Seasons, of which the plaintiff
was the sole proprietor. Lord Mansfield, with Judges
Willes and Aston, gave an opinion in favour of the per¬
manency of the copyright, in which they were confirmed
by Judge Blackstone; but one of their brethren, Judge
Yates, took a very different course, and adhered resolute¬
ly to the literal construction of the act.
An action for a similar trespass was some time after¬
wards brought before the Court of Session in Scotland ; the
London proprietor of a copyright claiming damages for
an infraction by a provincial bookseller (case of Hinton v.
Donaldson). Here the majority of the bench were ad¬
verse to the opinion formerly delivered by Lord Mans¬
field, and discharged the defendant without a dissentient
voice, except that of the well-known Lord Monboddo.
At last, in the session of 1773—4, the question came de¬
cisively before parliament, the booksellers having brought
in a bill for declaring copyright perpetual. This bill
passed the Commons, but was thrown out, after much de¬
bate, in the Lords.
To avoid perplexity, we shall endeavour to comprise Objections
the pros and cons in these various discussions in a kind of and an-
regular succession, adopting the plan of appending a re-swers.
joinder to each argument, as the best method of doing
justice to both sides.
Objection. Ideas cannot be the object of property ; they
are not visible, tangible, or corporeal. (Judge Yates.)
Answer. Whatever admits of exclusive enjoyment may
be property. (Hargrave.)
2 R
1
314
COPYRIGHT.
Copyright. O. Another person may arrive, by his own process of
thought, at similar conclusions; would you deny to him
what you granted to his predecessor ?
A. There is very little apprehension of such a coinci¬
dence ; the plans and the results of study admit of as in¬
finite variety as the human countenance ; the same views
or the same conclusions will never come from two persons,
or even from the same person at different times, in the
same language. At all events, an arbitrator or a com t o
justice can be at no loss to decide whether a second pub¬
lication on the same subject comes within the description
of plagiarism.
O. A literary composition is undoubtedly the property
of the writer so long as it remains in manuscript; but by
the act of publishing he gives it to the world ; he lets the
bird fly ; his property is gone. (Judge Yates.)
A. He gives the public the free use of the knowledge
contained in his book; but this is a very different thing
from the profit as publisher. The ten shillings paid for a
volume entitles the reader to the use of its contents, but
can certainly give him no claim to the hundred pounds
which may be expected from a new edition. (Lords Mans¬
field, Judges Willes, Blackstone, and Aston.)
O. It is not clear that common law ever sanctioned the
exclusive enjoyment of copyright. 1 he only titles appear
to have been the royal patent and the license of the ota-
tioners’ Company. (Lord Camden.)
A. It seems to have been always taken for granted by
Chancery and other courts, that an exclusive right existed.
There is a confirmatory example in the highest quarter;
the king is perpetual proprietor of the right of publishing
acts of parliament and all public documents. (Lord Mans¬
field, Judges Willes, Blackstone, and Aston.)
O. The patentees of mechanical inventions possess but
a limited term ; none of them ever advanced a claim to
perpetuity. (Judge Yates.)
A. Such patentees are much sooner reimbursed than
authors ; the fruit of their invention is of direct practical
application. Besides, the stranger who makes a duplicate
of a machine incurs a much greater relative expense than
the stranger w’ho reprints an edition of a book: in the
one the materials form the chief part of the cost; in the
other, they are comparatively insignificant, and copies
may be multiplied by thousands.
O. The statute of the 8th of Queen Anne expressly
limits the duration of copyright; it enacts that the pro¬
tecting penalties shall be in force during fourteen years,
and no longer. (Judge Yates.)
A. This is, no doubt, the apparent meaning of the
statute, but the preamble of the act declares that it is
passed for the protection of literature. To make the act
an instrument for curtailing a literary privilege would cer¬
tainly be at variance with its general language. (Lord
Mansfield.)
O. If such property be admitted for a time, is not the
term of fourteen years sufficient ? What good could the
public expect from the writings of men so selfish as to call
for a perpetual monopoly ?
A. Monopoly is not the proper word; the object may
be attained, as will be shown presently, under modifica¬
tions which insure to the public a complete supply of
books at reasonable prices.
O. “ Glory,” said Lord Camden, “ is the reward of
science, and those who deserve it scorn all meaner views.”
A. Reputation is, and always will be, the grand stimu¬
lus to literary exertion, but it requires long-continued ex¬
ertion ; and if we do not enable a writer to live by his
works, we confine the possibility of acquiring reputation
to a very small class—to the rich, or to those who derive
an income from other means, buch, in fact, has hither to
been the case: standard works have been attempted onlycw
uccn \_caov_. • y v/Unyy
by men who, like Gibbon, possessed patrimony, or who, ^
like Robertson and Hume, arrived at the possession of in-
come from other sources. No one imagines that our mi-
litary or naval officers follow their profession for the sake
of pay; yet no one would propose to abridge it on the
ground of reputation being their primary object.
O. “ It was not for gain,” said Lord Camden, “ that
Bacon, Newton, Milton, and Locke, instructed the world"
A. Each of these distinguished men was obliged to
trespass on the time devoted to literature, and to seek
an income from public employments. How much better
would it have been could they have given an undivided
and uninterrupted attention to their favourite pursuits?
In comparing these various arguments, the balance is
evidently on the side of the advocates of exclusive right
in every point except one—the interpretation of the statute
of Queen Anne. There the words “ fourteen years and
no longer” are too pointed to admit of the construction
put upon them by Lord Mansfield. In the beginning of
1774, when the question came before the House of Lords,
the judges attended and delivered their opinions at length,
Lord Mansfield advocating the cause of permanency, while
Judge Yates, now supported by his brethren Baron Eyre
and Baron Perrot, asserted once more the necessity of li¬
mitation. Thurlow, at that time attorney-general, address¬
ed the House, as a councillor, against the perpetuity, and
found an ardent auxiliary in Lord Camden; but the op¬
posite side was ably supported by Dunning, by Solicitor-
General Wedderburne, and by Lord Lyttleton. One party
contended that fame was the only true reward of literary
exertion; whilst the others maintained, that without an
adequate pecuniary provision, the public would be de*
prived of many useful wrorks. I he house, however, ap¬
pear to have been alarmed at the idea of perpetuity, and
finally decided that the exclusive right should last only
“ fourteen years, with a contingent fourteen, if the au¬
thor happened to be alive at the end of the first period.
The grand error on the part of the booksellers lay in
demanding perpetuity instead of prolongation. Hie idea
of perpetuity has in it something very serious, and will
not be sanctioned by a legislature without the clearest
proof of public advantage ; it would be premature to ask
it even in the present age. They ought to have drawn
the attention of parliament to the number of years requir¬
ed to compose a standard work, and to the furthei length
of time necessary to give it effectual currency; appealing
to the good sense of the legislature whether fourteen or
even twenty-eight years were not wholly inadequate to
remunerate these multiplied labours.
Foiled in the House of Peers, the booksellers deter¬
mined to do what men always will endeavour to do when
unjustly controlled, namely, to evade that which they can¬
not resist. They resorted to the alternative of giving an
ostensible renewal to a work, by adding, at the end of tie
term of each copyright, notes and other appendages, whieli
remained their property during another period of fourteen
years, and afforded them a kind of guarantee in two ways;
first, because a competitor, whatever he might do witli
"the original text, could not touch the addenda; and, next,
because the great body of publishers residing in London
acted as a corporation, and combined to give circulation
to works thus edited, to the complete exclusion o riva
'1
The law continued on this footing for forty ye^rs’fJ'iePro1''
term of copyright receiving no extension till 1814;
• V    tl^ „r,;vprsifIPS WOUldloH
occasion it was soon apparent that the universities wo
carry the point of the delivery copies, and the only aite -
native was, to seek an indemnity in an extension o copy
right to twenty-eight years ; that is, by rendering
tt.fourteen certain instead of contingent. This was obtained,
j an(] here ends the historical part of our sketch.
We are now to enter on the grand question, of the
advantages of a further prolongation of the term of copy¬
right ; a question that has never yet been brought fully
before the public.
We shall begin by examining a very material point,—
COPYRIGHT.
seller,
315
certa
ue of
ijrigb
se er, or partnership of booksellers, that ever existed. Copyright.
Among them as m all lines of business, there are exam-
pies ot considerable capitals; but these are realized only
in ie case of long-established concerns, and after a pro¬
gress of acquisition infinitely slower than the angry ima¬
gination of a disappointed author allows him to believe.
In his eagerness to take for granted that his pub!ishe
we mean the dispositions and habits ot those with whom are getting rich at his expense, he forgets the* history
authors have principally to deal. And here, from long fa- of the fathers and grandfaihers'of 'fhe'pre^nfmen and
miharity with men of business, we entreat the particular omits to mark the slow steps by which they p“ ed t e
-.tfpntion of our literary brethren: for. however anviniie ..i J c 1/‘^y pavea tne
attention of our literary brethren; for, however anxious
to be instrumental in procuring them relief, we must not
hesitate to point out their errors or misconceptions. Of
the surprising quantity of publications issuing annually
from the press, not a tenth part are the production of wri¬
ters of established character ; the rest proceed from can¬
didates whose reputation is yet to make. In what manner
are booksellers to form an estimate of the mass of unknown
manuscripts thus laid before them ? Their own habits are
not those of study, but of business, and they must consign
the task of examination to friends, who have been called
not inaptly “ literary tasters.” Need we wonder that the
patience of the critic should be put to a severe test by the
general mediocrity of these performances, and that his re¬
port should, in general, be so little decisive, that booksel¬
lers fall into the habit of putting one work on a par with
another, and of subjecting them, in the mode of publish¬
ing, to the application of a common rule ? It has become
the practice of some houses to decline any other terms
with an author unknown to the public, than those of de¬
fraying the paper and print, in return for the manuscript,
and the understanding that the profit of the edition, if
there be any, shall be shared equally between the booksel¬
ler and the author.
Now this plan of publishing, however natural in the
present state of the law, is replete with mischief to all
parties, bringing forth a mass of books which ought never
to see the light, and which, in truth, would never have
been published could the publisher have foreseen their
failure. It is a remarkable fact, disclosed by a parliamen¬
tary discussion, that only “ one publication in eight is found
to come to a second edition'' (See Evidence before the Co¬
pyright Committee in 1814.) The unfortunate limitation
of copyright discourages literary men from the continued
labour necessary to produce standard works; and the
bookseller, tempted to assail the public by the attraction
of novelty, goes on publishing hooks by the dozen, in the
hope that some lucky chance may make up for past disap¬
pointments.
All this shows that, in the great majority of cases, the
contract between an author and a bookseller is made with¬
out previous data, and is nothing more or less than what
is commonly called a blind bargain. Dr Paley, on finish¬
ing the manuscript of his Moral and Political Philosophy,
tendered the copyright of it to a bookseller for L.300, and
was offered in return L.250, exactly in the way that a cau¬
tious purchaser bids for unknown merchandise. During
this negotiation, a brother of the trade, apprised of the
value of Paley’s work, came boldly forward and offered
L.1000 for the copyright. The author having consented
to give the party first in treaty the previous option, the
latter now saw the matter in a new light, and ended by
paying four times the amount of his original offer.
No notion is more general among authors than that
booksellers make rapid fortunes at their expense. One
writer has published, that Jacob Tonson and his nephew
died worth L.200,000 (D’Israeli’s Calamities of Authors,
rol. i. p. 29); and not one reader in twenty will stop to
question the accuracy of the allegation. It is our firm
oeuef that such a sum was never possessed by any book-
way for the eventual rise of their descendants. He fails,
likewise, to scrutinize another material point, namely, the
quantum which a close calculator would deduct from the
fortunes so liberally assigned by report to booksellers.
I he latter, like all men in business, are desirous of pass¬
ing for affluent; but if so few publications are found to
be successful, must there not follow a large abatement
from the imagined extent of their annual gams ?
It is, on various accounts, a matter of regret that the
limited profits of bookselling business should not be bet-
tei understood by literary men. The discovery of it
would remove the film from their eyes, would lessen
greatly their habits of complaint, and would lead to cor¬
dial co-operation for redress of their common grievances.
A small offer from a bookseller, as in the case of Paley, is
indicative, not of a design to overreach, hut of an appre¬
hension that to give more would be to injure himself.
On the other hand, we are by no means disposed to launch
out into a panegyric of the liberality either of particular
individuals, or of the body at large. Like other men of
calculation, they naturally mete out their advances, not
by attachment to the writer, but by the extent of the ex¬
pected return. A large allowance for a finished book de¬
notes a confidence of extracting a still larger from the pub¬
lic ; while the scanty', and apparently niggardly, payment
of an unknown author, is a token of the fear and trembling
with which a bookseller handles a production of doubtful
promise.
The agreement between a bookseller and a new author Example
proceeds commonly as follows: The latter having pre-ofanew
pared a work, of which he has high hopes, but in which fublica-
he has not had either guidance or advice, sets out bytlon'
making an offer of his manuscript; and, after some time
taken for consideration, he is answered, that his name not
being yet known to the public, the publishers cannot take
on themselves to make him a payment for his labour, but
are willing to give it to the world on their joint account.
This leads to a compact, in terms somewhat like the fol¬
lowing :—
It is agreed between Messrs Y and Company, booksel¬
lers, and Mr Z, that Messrs Y and Company shall print
and publish for their account, jointly with Mr Z, in two
volumes octavo, his historical work on , Mr Z
supplying the manuscript, and Messrs Y and Company
taking on themselves the paper, printing, and other pub¬
lishing charges ; the statement of the account to be made
up every year at midsummer; and when, after deducting
the various publishing expenses, there shall appear a ba¬
lance of profit, the same to be equally shared between Mr
Z and Messrs Y and Company. The books to be ac¬
counted for at the regular trade sale price.
The publication now takes place; and in a twelvemonth
after, an account is made up in the following form:—
Dr
Historyof-
0
, by Mr Z.
Cr.
Printing 60 sheets, at 40s L.120
Overrunning and corrections 9 0 0
Paper, 90 reams, at 30s. 13 ) 0 0
Advertising • 30 0 0
Boards for 25 copies delivered
to the author's friends..... 2 10 0
L.296 10 0
750 copies printed, retail price
21s., the price to the trade
15s., 150 copies sold and de¬
livered in sheets, at 15s...L.112 10 0
Balance at Dr. carried to next
year 184 0 0
L.296 10 O
3J6
COPYRIGHT.
Copyright. Next year the account is considerably shorter, the
charges consisting only of advertising and interest of
money; but the attraction of novelty having gone off, the
sale is also less, and does not probably exceed eighty
copies, leaving still an adverse balance of L.100. I he
bookseller goes on with mercantile punctuality to render
him a further account; but the scale is now in a state of
progressive decrease, and does not, for the third yeai, ex¬
ceed fifty copies, leaving still an unfavourable balance of
L.80. The author now loses patience, and entreats the
bookseller to relieve him of all responsibility, by taking
over the remaining copies, and considering the account an
closed. Such is the fate of five-sixths of the books, great
and small, that come before the public. Composed with¬
out the benefit of experience, they are unprofitable to the
publisher, uninstructive to the reader, and discouraging to
the author.
If we are suspected of stating an extreme case, let ano¬
ther be supposed, in which the author is less of a novice,
and in which a bookseller, from confidence equally in him
and in the subject, ventures to make an advance of mo¬
ney, and to agree to pay a fixed price for the copyright.
An arrangement is made for bringing out the work against
a given time, and the writer proceeds with' all the ardour
attendant on a new enterprise. Authors, however, were
never remarkable for accurate calculation, or ratbei tneii
undertakings are almost always found to requiie
time and labour than they had anticipated ; the prescribed
time expires, and the bookseller agrees to postpone it for
another twelvemonth. This also passes away; the pub-
lishing season draws near; the work is still unfinished,
but the author is impatient of further labour; and the
bookseller thinks it high time to get a return for his mo¬
ney. The work goes "to press, and comes out without ei¬
ther a correction or an acknowledgment of its imperfec¬
tions, unless the author be particularly modest, in which
case the public is requested, in a well-turned apology, to
make allowance for his multiplied avocations and the ur¬
gent nature of the subject. This is the case with almost
all the better class of our new publications; the sale, m
such cases, is somewhat less unfavourable than the speci¬
men given above; but four or five years are requisite to
run off an edition; and, on coming a second time before
the public, it is necessary for the author to do what should
have been done at first, revise and correct the whole. A
second edition comes out, but under considerable disad¬
vantages; the attraction of novelty is gone, or greatly im¬
paired; the number of readers is lessened by those who
have purchased copies of the first edition; and the book
has been estimated, in reviews and elsewhere, by an un¬
favourable standard. The bookseller is thus curtailed of
profit, the author of reputation; yet each has the happy
gift of throwing blame off his own shoulders ; the publish¬
er attributing the failure to the distraction of the public
attention by some unlucky novelty ; whilst the other vents
his complaints on the incurable frivolity of the age. In
truth, neither of the parties is much to blame ; their con¬
duct is the natural result of their situation. The haste of
authors, and the acquiescence of the booksellers, are main¬
ly owing to the short-lived tenure of the fruits of theii la¬
bour ; the habits of the one and the calculations of the
other having been all along adapted to this state of things.^
Is there, then, no remedy for so mortifying a state of
things—no method of relieving the public from such an
unprofitable expenditure of time and attention ? Some
have been desirous to call in the patronage of govern¬
ment, and have argued, that literature can never, like the
coarser objects of industry, find adequate re-payment in
the fruit of its exertions. It is, indeed, a current subject
of complaint among authors, that so few provisions for life
Proposed
remedies.
should be appropriated to literary men. sea non taliaux-C^,
ilia : whatever be their distress, we beg to deprecate any Cy
interference on the part of government. No engine is so
formidable in the hands of an arbitrary ruler as the press.
Look at the degraded picture exhibited by the French
press in the reign of Bonaparte, and you will find men,
who, under the auspices of freedom, would have acted an
independent part, tempted, threatened, and gradually com¬
pelled to become the advocates of a tyrant, and to parti-
cipate in the guilt of riveting the chains of their coun¬
trymen. It is in vain even for a liberal legislature or a
disinterested sovereign to attempt to make up for the de¬
ficient reward of literary labour, by granting pensions or
by creating places for men of letters. These measures,
though apparently beneficial, carry with them all the dis¬
advantages of irregular and unnatural interference. Ali-
terary man promoted, as is not unusual in France, to a go¬
vernment employment, is withdrawn from his proper sphere
of utility ; he becomes lost to general reasoning and libe¬
ral views, amidst the endless details of practical routine.
The pension granted to Johnson by Lord Bute was gene¬
rally approved, both as the fair reward of past industry,
and as a seasonable relief to pecuniary difficulty; but what
was the consequence ? It fostered his natural indolence,
prevented the composition ot further works, and, by ena¬
bling him to live in idleness, rendered him perpetually
dissatisfied with himself. Had the property of his literary
labour been permanent, he would have received fully as
much from the booksellers, and might have continued his
proper pursuits under circumstances progressively im-
proving, without incurring the humiliation of dependence,
or degrading his name by the composition of party pamph¬
lets.
It is equally vain for zealous friends to attempt making
up for the inadequacy in question, by procuring private
subscriptions for a work; for though it may be successful
in a pecuniary sense, the step is humiliating to the author,
is liable to abuse, and is, besides, an interference with the
proper business of a bookseller. One of the most splen¬
did of such examples was Pope’s translation of Homer)
an undertaking where the importance of the task and the
talents of the translator called equally for liberal remune¬
ration. Pope was perfectly ready to sacrifice several pre¬
cious years for the sake of eventual competency, and he
found in his friends, particularly in Swift, a most zealous
promoter of his views. Proposals were circulated, liberal
subscriptions were obtained, and a favourable baigain
made with the bookseller ; the translation of the Iliad was
executed, and will for ever remain a proof of the persever¬
ance to which an author may be prompted by the love of
fame, when relieved from pecuniary pressure, and enabled
to give long-continued labour to his task. So far all was
well; but the success of this first undertaking induced
Pone to resort to the same method for publishing a trans¬
lation of the Odyssey, which proved far inferior, being
performed either hastily bv himself, or by two coadjutors,
whose respective contributions, though not altogether con¬
cealed, were unfairly represented to the world, tou
such an abuse have taken place had subscription been out
of the question, and had the remuneration of Pope been
proportioned to the eventual sale of his book? Ine pu -
lie would in that case have had a translation of equa me
rit with its predecessor, and Pope would have been sparec
the reproach of a literary imposition.
The least exceptionable mode of rewarding h e V
eminence is by church preferment in the southern par
the kingdom, and by admission to professoria cial ,
the north. But the extent of both, particularly oM
latter, is limited, and does not always place a man in t
station where he can be most useful, or in the mo
)Pyi
COPYRIGHT.
317
employment most congenial to bis habits. Both, besides, sion. But prolong copyright, and you relieve him from Copyright.
require more of connection, of interest, and of manage- the necessity of laying stress on the sale of this or that    
roent, than commonly falls to the lot of a retired student, season; you point his hopes to eventual and permanent
The only effectual plan is, to find the means of relief in circulation ; and you put it in his power to pledge him-
the prosecution of literature itself ; to relieve it from ex- self for a considerable sum, because he is justified by the
prospect of its leturn. An author thus supported and en¬
couraged will no longer scruple to give year after year to
studying a subject thoroughly, and bringing out his book
in a finished state.
isting shackles, and to allow every writer to reap his re
ward in the .sale of his books, exactly as is done in other
kinds of employment. This is all that literature wants,
and all that it is good for her to have. She will then
make no claims to patronage from government, no appeal
to the subscriptions of private friends ; nor will appoint-
We shall now put these suggestions into a specific form,
less under the idea of their forming the basis of a legisla-
ments in the church or in universities be an object of tive measure, than as a convenient mode of statin^ the
indecent contention ; they will be coveted by a smaller substance of a case.
number, by those only whose particular habits fit them
for such situations. Perpetuity of copyright is as much
the right of the author or purchaser of a manuscript, as
of the builder or purchaser of a house; and the public
will never reap its full harvest of advantage from literary
“ Grant in all books to be hereafter published, an ex- Sketch of
tension of copyright for twenty-two years, making in the the pro¬
whole fifty years. Appoint a commission, with power ofPos.ed de¬
reference to a jury, to act in all cases where the ownersra^on'
of copyright withhold publication, or confine it to an ex-
;ate t
pyrij '■
i the' in ■
nent.
compositions till the law be made to confirm the claim of pensive form. Empower this commission to order the
equity. But as this opinion is as yet far from being gene- publication of such works in the form they judge most
ral, we shall not press it to its extent, but demand it only proper, and with the obligation towards the proprietor of
for a specific period, leaving the public to enact perpe- the copyright of paying over to him or his representatives
tuity at a future time, when it shall have had undoubted the proportion of profit accruing to him by the practice
evidence of the beneficial effect of prolongation. of the trade. (Quarterly Revieiv, vol. viii. p. 112.)
Let us inquire if we can take a useful lesson from the “ The power of this commission to be operative only
example of our continental neighbours. In France, copy- for the additional term of twenty-two years, without up¬
right has received in the present age several proionga- plication to the existing twenty-eight.”
tions: limited at first to the author’s life, it was extended The act of 1814 would thus remain in force. Should
in 1793 to ten years, and in 1805 to no less than twenty it, however, appear in the progress of the discussion that
years after his death. Taking twenty years as the ave- the prolongation made it necessary to take steps for the
rage of life after the publication of a work, we have here interest of the public, or of the minor booksellers, the
in the whole a medium term of forty years, which is con- power of the commission might be made applicable to a
siderably longer than ours. But the grand practical ex- portion of the twenty-eight years.
ample is to be found in Germany. In that country copy- The grand objection hitherto has arisen from an idea,
right is perpetual; and though the sales of editions are that to prolong copyright was to prolong the power of
small, in consequence of the facility of importing clandes- the owner to deal with the public as he chose. Nothing,
ISUffi
ency
ir pre
;nt te
tine impressions from the territory of neighbouring princes,
such is the benefit of permanency, that Germany sends
forth more wrorks of lasting use than any other country
in Europe. .Compare their performances in statistics and
geography with those of France, England, or Italy, and
we shall be surprised at their superior research, and their
careful examination of the necessary documents. It is
at present proposed to effect a most important improve¬
ment in the state of book property in Germany, by ren¬
dering the protection general throughout the empire, and
by enacting that a clandestine edition published in a dif¬
ferent state shall be subject to the same penalties as if pub¬
lished in the country of the writer. The great powers,
Austria and Prussia, are understood to favour this mea¬
sure, and some objections raised by the lesser states are
likely to be overcome; and if the decision of the Diet be
favourable, Germany will take the lead of all Europe in
the number of standard works.
There is evidently no reason that the term of book pro¬
perty should have a reference to the probable time of an
author’s life; it is much more equitable to prolong it to a
considerable time after his death, as a provision for a fa-
however, is easier than to separate the two, preserving to
the bookseller his property, and giving the public the right
of calling for editions of the book, in the manner most
suited to general convenience. This seems sufficiently
explained in the above provision; and the only matter of
surprise is, that it should not have been sooner acted on.
This clause would put book property on so plain and
equitable a footing, as to open a prospect to another and
very desirable arrangement, namely, a community of copy¬
right between this country and the United States ; that is, a
mutual compact that “ the publisher of a book in the one
should possess the property of it also in the other,” sub¬
ject always to the interference of a commission or jury in
each country, who should take care that it be given to
the public in a cheap and convenient form.
Such is the plan of the proposed alteration. We are its benefit
next to consider its probable effects. And, first, as to li-to authors,
terary men : they certainly feel sore at the obligation of
sacrificing eleven copies of every book to the public li¬
braries. A prolongation of copyright would go far to re¬
move this uneasy sensation ; but we would urge it on
higher grounds; and here it is fit to state, that our argu-
mily deprived of its natural protector. Our present term of ments are not at all intended to favour a mercenary spi-
twenty-eight years appears at first sight no inconsiderable rit. Persons who write merely for money find at present
tenure; but the circulation of literary works is often only
beginning to become considerable when the property is
drawing to a close. Paradise Lost remained in compara¬
tive obscurity for many years; and on coming nearer our
an ample stock of employment in compiling, abridging,
and plagiarizing; they are dead to the feeling of reputa¬
tion, and incapable of that judicious and honourable cal¬
culation which shows that the true way to attain either
own times we find Hume’s early works, and even the first fame or competency, is to be sparing of early publications,
volume of his History, falling dead-born from the press; to study in silence, and to aim only at ultimate success,
whilst Smith’s Wealth of Nations, the labour of half a life- Such men do not properly belong to literature; they have
time, went through only two editions in the course of been cast into it merely as a refuge. The men to be
eight years. No wonder then that a bookseller should benefited by the change would be a very different class;
pause before giving a large price for a short-lived posses- they would be those who embrace literature as others em-
318
COPYRIGHT.
Copyright, brace medicine, law, or the church, with the intention of
following it as a profession ; who make allowance for pass¬
ing a number of years in unproductive study, and do not
repine at the postponement of their reward, if it be not
eventually withheld. The proposed alteration would ope¬
rate in their favour, not by gratifying an avaricious dis¬
position, which literature never engenders, and which, if
it" previously existed, would be modified, perhaps cured,
by such pui’suits; but by enabling the individual to pur¬
sue his task year after year without discouragement, and
without feeling that, by gratifying his personal predilec¬
tion, he is doing an injury to his family. Improve his cir¬
cumstances, not that he may amass money, but that he
may have the means of support during the long labom
necessary to reputation. More is not to be desired ; t le
wants of literary men are few ; their residence, theii plan
of life, and their mode of bringing up a family, ought all
to be such as to recal the simplicity of former days.
What a reproach to modern Europe, that, with all the
benefit of printing and extended circulation, our literary
compositions should not have surpassed those of the an¬
cients ! Does not this argue that there must exist some¬
where an unhappy counteraction to our advantages ? In
number of studious men we far surpass the fairest days
of Greece and Rome ; but few of them comparatively be¬
come writers; they meet a great deal of difficulty and dis¬
couragement in their attempts to address the public; and
the result is, that their knowledge expires with themselves.
Such will be the case until an effectual change be made ; we
shall have the mortification of seeing men capable of en¬
lightening the world and accelerating the progress of im¬
provement, doomed to waste their time in teaching, or re¬
linquishing literature for professions productive of money.
Others who prefer the gratification of their taste to all
considerations of property, must be content to live on a
trifling pittance abroad, or in a corner of their own coun¬
try, remote from libraries and the pleasure of literary in¬
tercourse.
To make literature a profession for life is almost a new
project; for hardly any men have set out with the inten¬
tion of making it their sole employment. They have con¬
sequently proceeded without a settled plan, have ailived
at no definite method until advanced in years, and have
seldom, if ever, thought of drawing up instructions for the
guidance of their successors. Observe in mercantile bu¬
siness, in public offices, and in the law, how labour is me¬
thodized and subdivided ; in what manner the mechanical
and uninstructive part is made to devolve on inferior assist¬
ants, and the time of the principal reserved for general
views and important decisions. In literature, any thing
of the kind that has yet been attempted is in its infancy;
yet the same plan is applicable ; and were authors so far
at their ease as to be enabled to make an undisturbed ap¬
portionment of their time, they would soon learn to make
great improvements in their mode of study.
Its bene- Some booksellers apprehend, that it authors were as-
tits to sured of a prolonged term, they, the booksellers, would
booksellers.not so soon have the option of buying copyrights; at all
events, they would pay dearer for them. I his reasoning
is plausible, but, like the general conclusions of most prac¬
tical men, will be found to be drawn from a narrow cir¬
cumference. Whatever be the duration of copyright, the
property of it, in nineteen cases out of twenty, must be
vested in the bookseller. How can authors have the means
of running the risks, or waiting year after year for the tardy
returns of sale? Must they not continue to exchange
these formidable contingencies for a specific allowance in
ready money? To write books is one thing; to sell and
to hold the property of them is another. The one is the
province of the retired and sedentary student; the other
of the man of activity and capital. Again, as to augmen-CW
tation of price, booksellers would, indeed, in the event of ^ ]
a prolongation, find it necessary to increase the remune¬
ration of good writers; but this increase would be repaid
them threefold in the augmented value of their editions,
which would, in that case, probably embrace the circula¬
tion of the United States. Give encouragement to our
own writers, and the compositions offered to our booksel¬
lers will soon be such as to justify an extent of impression
equal to those of France, where two or three thousand
copies are struck off for one thousand in England. Ob¬
serve the effect of such a change in facilitating the reco¬
very of the drawback on paper; a drawback at present of
little benefit to our exporting booksellers, because the
books shipped to America are frequently in such petty
lots as not to defray the expense of the debenture. These
considerations are of high importance at a time when we
suffer from the printing, on the Continent, of rival editions
of our standard books, for the American market.
Cheapness is not to be sought by inferiority of type and
paper; but it would be the result of those progressive im¬
provements, which would soon take place were things left
to their natural operation. An increase in the size of an
edition implies a reduction of price to the public. Now
the cheapening of books is productive of great advantage.
It would enable us both to supply the foreign market and
to increase greatly our circulation at home, by inducing
individuals to buy books which they would otherwise bor¬
row, and to have always at hand those to which they would
otherwise have only occasional access.
What is the ordinary course of the business of a great
publishing house ? A large proportion of the books they
send forth pass unnoticed, and hardly defray the expense
of paper and print. What loads of unsaleable volumes en¬
cumber their warehouse ! W hat a heavy expense do they
incur for unproductive advertising! The success of the
house depends on the very few works of standard merit, per¬
haps one in twenty, which obtain extensive sale, and forma
counterpoise to their ill-starred brethren. Now, the effect
of a prolongation of copyright would be to increase very
considerably this select number, and to afford on a large,
that benefit which is now enjoyed on a small scale. Book¬
sellers have merely to look around them to see that those
publications succeed best where the encouragement ot
the writer is most liberal. The expense of paper, print,
and advertising, is as gi'eat on a bad as on a good manu¬
script, and it would in time become a rule with our lead¬
ing booksellers to publish none but first-rate books. If
they adhered to that, they might safely dispense with re¬
peated and expensive calls on the public attention; the
name of their house would do more than any tning else.
Another, and by no means inconsiderable advantage, of
a valuable manuscript, is the power of obtaining an allow¬
ance from a French or a German bookseller for the use ot
the English sheets for the purpose of translating; a point
hitherto little attempted, in consequence of the trifling na¬
ture of most of our publications.
Booksellers complain, and probably with truth, of the
vanity and unreasonableness of authors ; but literature has
many attractions, and whenever you satisfy men that they
will not doom themselves to a life of poverty by following
it, you may be assured that you will soon have to transact
with a very superior class ot writers.
It is usual with booksellers, when treating with an au¬
thor of reputation, to make their bargain with reference
to successive editions; that is, they pay a certain sum
for the first, a further sum when a second is called tor,
and a final payment on the appearance of a third gene¬
rally completes the purchase of the copyright. This p aij
is highly desirable, and would be regularly acted upon,cou t
'opy
COPYRIGHT. o,q
t* the bookseller have full confidence in authors. It reduces be preserved to an nmW ™ °
/ the risk of the former, while to the author it affords the of selling it was suWwctllt Pur^ht?er> ^llst the mode Copyright,
gratification of prospect, and gives him the strongest mo- see by intuition whit it h t0 reSulat,on- They could not v—
five, to render his book worthy of permanent favSur. ff d reflectM to dLcove^8 "° Sl”a11 share of time
Such is the state of the case as regards the elder bre- The existino- rpstr.Viinn *i *
thren of the trade, the principal publishers. But we must to induce an author to makl hhf ^ C0Pyngllt tends
address a few words likewise to a numerous, and, in gene- first instance, w th the vTw „! off r 'T perfect in ,he
rak a respectable class, the printers and lesser booksellers, thod ol^enewing * eVetalivl propetf ^ Td me;
These persons may apprehend that a prolongation of copy- scruple to write to his publisher thaX ,l ' d'd
right would prove a continued suspension of their power of his history wouhl fm-m « n , 0i ’ ki 1 t,|0yough revisal
ofcoming forward with cheap editions ; but we refer them fLht at the enTff the^ ""ewa of the copy-
t. the clause in the above sketch of the proposed act, thl ptaafoweVy ^ Siually.6™^ PUb“SherS
which might be so framed as to allow any bookseller who We bv no mpnnQ nc=pvf ^ i
chose to make the speculation, to print an edition of a change would stop the anniiaranrTUf’t .'m* ‘ 'e Pr0P?sed
work on his obtaining the assent of the proprietor of the every man must lie ‘ r f tr' .lne war,is, S1nce
copyright, or, failing that assent, on his gelling the sane- ~rty aTe ch„Les ftinnH51”56 ° 1tme a,’d pl;0-
£of.commission or jury authorized Settle di, ^ ^
We are next to call on the lesser booksellers and printers dfg Mhm wbflfZff buflatf iuflmte
zzzxz «
ness, which shows that there is no ground for keeping up of readers,8 though we are stih extreme/defide”''™
z h"„T^ It™ tjecis n V ^to
history of the trade, and observehow it lies gradually, ami penem/ history of Ireland orlcotfand, “TveTof fng1*
without the aid of interference, divided itself into a variety land ? No wonder that wp shnnM ch i kI i ^ i gu
ofdistinctbranclta. Booksellers combined at first the sail works wlfe7“u ata Kit‘IL^Td efpSe
of stationery with that of books; and hence the Stationers' required in their composition. Sinfe public “cords ht
Company In process.of time they relinquished, in great become so voluminous, and the transaction ff nations If
towns a least that unnecessary appendage, and, after a complicated, whoever undertakes to do iticf to sucf
farther lapse of years, divided the wholesale book business topics will find himself subjected to a varilfy of exfene
from the retail. Progressive extension led next to a dis- He must set apart two, perhaps three vefrl for wdn
unction between the sale of new and old books; and we patently requires one; hi mult have his residence in the'
have at present in one house (the house so well known as vicinity of great libraries; he must carry on af extansive
the publishers of Hume and Robertson) the example of correspondlnce ; lie must employ clerjrn making cfpiel
an establishment avoiding all business, even wholesale, ex- of official documents and famil/ papers. The £mTol-
Thi* 'fkff at'S t<l,10?i'S prmtcd f?r lhel( 0;,'n account, servations are applicable to scientificPlabours. At iiresent
These subdivisions tend exceedingly to facilitate busi- no bookseller can afford to indemnify a writer for the
Caus.e 11 t0]be do"e b<?th better.and to greater years he would be disposed to bestow on a favourite but
e. tot. Lxpenence shows that the repartition of employ- insulated branch: he must have a work on a subject of
more effectuaHvrW^h0- SUCCeSS’ an? that men can"ot Seneral interest; that is, one which will take in a number
e effectually clog their progress than by attempting of topics, without going to the bottom of any. But pro-
f .Z;n„ ri i undrtak'"Ss- T.''e course longrtie term, and® afford a prospect that a^elfwrifZ
IS «7der|ataerns'°naf tI>e ‘,?rm 0f book’ even in a limited department, will make its way,
31 nL l: T , establishments on a still more and the bookseller will find himself justified in offering to
tntLnL-P ’ r bo®kseller.s vvould confine themselves the author a sum which will enable the latter to indulge
Irintinr^FZ aSl6 * leaVe n0t 0nl^ the !n his Prcdilection for the branch in question. This point
snert ^ ^ f’ t0 at.IarSe- Is tliat pro- is of great consequence, for almost every author has a fa-
infr« ? n t d-I° a frm £qltherithe Pnnters or minor book' vourite subject, which he would cultivate with great zeal,
nhpi; nsil n Ji ^ shoT1tbat thinSs’ when left did not necessity oblige him to turn aside to popular
IpI C0Urse> fal1 •nvanably mto their true chan- topics for the sake of a livelihood. We have known
tn ’ suPerfluous both the care of the legisla- works that might have been completed in two or three
clparpr tn /,VVS .of corporations ? Nothing can be years, postponed from time to time so as to occupy seven,
thp fpwnr ti lan busuiess that the dearer an edition eight, or nine, in consequence of those unwelcome avoca-
tl rl er j6 P>urcbasers 5 and that the true plan is to meet tions.
This ^.an ad C^a®fes W^tb as bftlc delay as possible. The more a man of taste and judgment studies the true
hnnl-s uriv See rePeated)y exemplified in the case of new nature of composition, the more he becomes attached to
snip nTti erC aa °etavo ed,fi°n is brought forward before the simplicity; he loses the relish for flowery diction - he
not Hp 16 qnart° 18 comPleted 5 but as all booksellers might learns to chasten his early predilection for ambitious pas-
invpst ^Ua y. a(rC0maiudating^ the plain alternative is to sages; for point and antithesis- he substitutes the plain
would f COmms!!?°n Wl{fl explicit power to interfere. That language of the Grecian and Roman models. Such a style
ments wh™} aTtUi v conclusive answer to those argu- is calculated to be permanent, but may not for some time
I tile r p uudge Yates on the bench, Lord Karnes in be popular, perverted.as the public taste is by a habitual
l Peers so r , S10n’ and Lord Camden in the House of tone of exaggeration and inflation. The reward of such
« c strongJy urged against giving what they termed the writers is thus to be found only in length of time. Grant
Persons w monoP°'y of a book.” These distinguished but that, and you will accomplish a total change in the
I were not aware that the property of a book might character of new books, rendering the writers indifferent
1 Correspondence from Lausanne, annexed to his Memoirs.
320
COR
Conues to whatever may be called tricks of composition, and di¬
ll reeling their attention to the plain, the solid, the perma-
Coquimbo. nent. What a prospect is here opened both of improving
our national style and of diffusing useful information 1
We have treated this subject with reference to four
distinct parties; authors, publishing booksellers, the ^less¬
er booksellers with the printers, and finally the public :
yet we challenge any opponent to produce a single point
in which the advantage of the one is not found to coincide
with and promote the advantage of the others.
How then has it happened that a case calling so strong¬
ly for amendment has not hitherto been fully brought be¬
fore the public? 1 he reasons are the following.
Publishing booksellers have been, and still are, uncon¬
scious of the extent of improvement which it would pro¬
duce in literary composition.
The lesser booksellers and printers were not aware ot
the practicability of combining prolongation of coping it
wdth freedom in publishing editions.
The former opponents of the measure proposed, such
as Lord Camden, were equally unaware of the possibility
of the provision in question.
And as to literary men, their error has been partly in
want of co-operation, partly in asking too much, by uiging
a claim to perpetuity. .
But is there now any prospect of the adoption ot such
a measure ? The progress of improvement is slow; our
legislatures have not leisure to study such matters to the
COR
bottom, and our practical men are in general wedded to Co:
ancient usage. At the same time, theie aie stiong rea- II
sons to hope, that the question, if taken up by a spirited ^
and persevering member of parliament, will eventually be
carried. The universities afford an encouraging example.
They have long possessed copyright without abusing it.
Booksellers are accustomed, particularly since the peace,
to take a much wider view of their business; they aim
at exportation, reduce their prices, and seek an equivalent
in a larger circulation. As to authois, then object is com¬
pletely the Same with that of the public, namely, extenu-
ed circulation. We have the example of successive pro¬
longations of copyright in this country and in trance ; and
a most encouraging proof of the effects of perpetuity m
Germany. Finally, it may be safely urged, that, until some
such measure is adopted, the Fnglish public u ill receive
few standard books.
The number of new literary works which come out in
Great Britain annually is computed at 1500. This is ex¬
clusive of reprints, pamphlets, and periodical publications.
Taking the average editions of each at ’/oO copies, we
have a total of more than a million of new volumes pub¬
lished annually in Great Britain. In fiance, tne number
of newly published volumes is greater, because the edi¬
tions are larger ; but, of all countries, Germany is in this
respect the most remarkable, the ne\v works published
there annually exceeding five thorfsand, or tluee to one
compared to those of Lngland or France. (n. n.)
COQUES, Gonzalez, a painter of portraits and con¬
versations, was bom at Antwerp in 1618, and was a dis¬
ciple of David Ryckaert the elder, under whose direction
he applied himself diligently to cultivate the promising
talents which he possessed ; not only by practising uie
best rules administered to him byr his instructor, but a^so
by studying nature with singular attention. He was a great
admirer of Vandyck; and, fixing on the manner of that
o-reat artist as his model, he had the happiness of so tar
succeeding, that, after him, he was esteemed equal to
any other painter of his time, in the school of Kyckaert
he had been accustomed to paint conversations, and he
frequently composed subjects of fancy, like leniers, Os¬
tade, and his master; a habit by which he introduced a
very agreeable style of portrait painting. In this way he
composed several fine pictures for King Charles L, tne
Archduke Leopold, and the Prince of Orange ; and the
latter, as a mark of respect, presented Coques with a nen
<>-old chain, and a gold medal, on which his bust was im¬
pressed. Coques died in 1684. He had an excellent pen¬
cil ; his portraits were well designed, with easy, natural
attitudes; he disposed the figures in his composition so
as to avoid confusion or embarrassment; he gave an ex¬
traordinary clearness of colour to his heads and hands ;
and his touch was free, firm, and broad, a circumstance
very uncommon in works of a small size.
COQUIMBO, a province of Chili, in South America,
is bounded on the north by Copiapo, on the east by the
Andes, on the south-east by Aconcagua, on the south¬
west by Quillota, and on the west by the Pacific Ocean.
This province suffers for want of rain, and is by no means
so fertile as many other parts of Chili. It piesents fie-
quent contrasts of sterility and luxuriance, but the lat¬
ter predominates where rivers and streams traverse the
country. Like the neighbouring province of Copiapo,
Coquimbo contains gold mines; but those of silve, and
copper are the most valuable. A few years ago a vein of
silver in a metallic state was discovered, but it proved to
be of very limited extent. Mines of quicksilver are also
said to exist in this province. Coquimbo, the capital, is
situated upon a river of the same name, about a quarter
of a league from, the sea. It is the seaport of the pro¬
vince; and the harbour is considered as one of the best
in Chili, and is much frequented. The streets of the city
are built in a line from north to south and from east to
west, and the number of houses is estimated at between
three and four hundred. It has been calculated tnat of
late from one to two billions of dollars have been annually
exported from Coquimbo. TJre province is lo,300 square
miles in extent, and contains 20,000 inhabitants.
COR Caroli, in Astronomy, an extra-constellated star
in the northern hemisphere, situated between the Coma
JBerenids and Ursa Major, so called by Dr Halley in ho¬
nour of King Charles.
Cor Hydra:, a fixed star of the first magnitude, m the
constellation of Hydra.
Cor Leonis, in Astronomy, a fixed star of the first mag¬
nitude, in the constellation Leo. ^
CORACHIE, a seaport town of the province of Sinde,
district of Tatta, supposed to be the Sangada of Arrian,
or the port of Alexander. It is the only good seaport of
Sinde, and is situated seventeen miles east by south of
Cape Monze, at the head of a bay which affords good
shelter for shipping ; and from the beginning of Septem¬
ber till the latter end of May, vessels of from three to four
hundred tons burden may enter at high tide, the water
at any other time not being more than a fathom and a
half, or a fathom and a quarter on the bar. Ihe tide rises
twelve feet. The harbour is narrow, and is defended on
the western point of its entrance by a castle, built in 1801,
on which are mounted a few pieces of unserviceable can¬
non. On the eastern side of the bay are six rocky isles,
near to which the water is shallow'. The town consists
of upwards of 3000 houses; and contains 8000 inhabit¬
ants, most of whom are Hindus, engaged in trade. It is
encompassed with a mud wall, which has round towers;
but it is incapable of making any defence against cannon.
Corachie being the principal seaport of the Sinde pro-
J4
C O Pt
ora1
].or;
\\nce, a great proportion of the produce of the country is
exported from it. The exports consist chiefly of rice,
glue, hides, sharks’ fins, saltpetre, potash, assafcetida, Tatta
cloth, indigo, frankincense, and coarse cloths. These ar¬
ticles are conveyed in the fair season in dingees, which
are small coasting vessels with one mast and a very high
stern, to Bombay, Guzerat, and the coast of Malabar; from
which places they bring back pepper and other spices, iron,
lead, steel, elephants’ teeth, cochineal, with sandal-wood
and other woods. A considerable trade is also carried on
with Muscat, but it has been greatly interrupted by the
Jowasmie pirates, who range to the mouth of the Indus.
Rice, ghee, indigo, frankincense, and coarse cloths, were
formerly exported to that quarter; and the returns were
made in silk, dates, and other articles from the Persian
Gulf. The commerce of the town, however, has greatly
declined. The Hindus, who are deeply engrossed with
trade, are possessed of the chief wealth. They have no
share of political power, but enjoy the most perfect reli¬
gious toleration. Near the town is a tank containing two
tame alligators, highly venerated by the Hindu devotees.
The country from Corachie to the coast is low alluvial
soil, overflowed by the Indus when it is swelled by the
melting of the mountain snows and the fall of distant
rains in the elevated country towards the north. The
Indus is navigated from Corachie up to Tatta and Hyder¬
abad, in flat-bottomed boats, at all seasons of the year.
The passage to Tatta occupies five or six days, and to
Hyderabad two or three days more.
The surrounding country is sandy and stony, but it is
susceptible of cultivation during the rains. A few date
trees are seen in the immediate neighbourhood of the
town, but the fruit never comes to perfection. Lemons,
oranges, grapes, plantains, as well as water and musk me¬
lons, are produced; but, with the exception of the pump¬
kin and brinjal, there are no vegetables at Corachie. The
water is brackish ; fuel and forage are scarce; sheep are
indifferent, but the camels and draught bullocks are ex¬
cellent. It is fifty-seven miles from the city of Tatta.
Long. 67. 16. PL Lat. 24. 51. N. (Kinneir’s Geographical
Memoir of Persia ; Hamilton’s Gazetteer.)
COIIADGE, a river of Syria, which runs into the Me¬
diterranean, four miles south of Tortosa. It is supposed
by Pococke to be the Kerseos of Ptolemy.
CORAH, or Korah, a district of Hindustan, in Alla¬
habad, called also Jehanabad, situated in the plains be¬
tween the Ganges and Jumna, and between the 26th
and 27th degrees of north latitude. It is in general a
level country, with the exception of the high banks of
the Ganges, on which the villages are usually situated,
surrounded by mango trees. It produces every kind of
grain except rice ; also excellent crops of sugar-cane, to¬
bacco, and cotton. It has good roads and navigable rivers
on its eastern and western boundaries, on which an ex¬
tensive commerce is carried on ; and the country has
been gradually advancing in prosperity since it was ceded
to the British by the nabob of Oude in 1801.
Corah, the capital of the above district, situated near¬
ly halt-way between the Ganges and the Jumna. The
town is surrounded by a mud-wall with mud towers, and
the houses are mostly built of brick; but most of them
are constructed of mud, and have flat roofs. It has a con¬
siderable trade in grain and cotton; and is a large and
flourishing town, where formerly was a mint. The travel¬
ling distance from Lucknow is 67 miles, from Agra 184,
hom Delhi 301, and from Calcutta by Birbhoorn 655
niiles. Long. 80.40., E. Lat. 26. 6. N. There is also a village
of this name in the province of Cutch, situated about ten
miles south of Luckput Bunder, on the-road from that
place to the sea-port of Mandavee. The surrounding
VOL. VII.
COR
country, which is hilly, yields large quantities of iron ore,
which is smelted in the town. Long. 69. 5. E. Lat. 23.
38. N.
CORACOMANl ES, in Antiquity, persons who fore¬
told events from observations on crows or ravens.
CORALLINA. See Zoophytes, Index.
CORALLINES. See Zoophytes, Index.
CORAM, Captain Thomas, a gentleman distinguish¬
ed for his humanity, was born about the year 1668, and
spent the early part of his life in the station of master of
a vessel trading to the colonies. He afterwards resided in
the eastern part of the metropolis, among seafaring peo¬
ple ; and business often obliging him to go early into the
city, and return late, he frequently saw infants exposed
in the streets, through the indigence or cruelty of their
parents. This excited his compassion, and induced him
to project the establishment of an hospital for foundlings;
in which humane design he laboured with indefatigable'
diligence for seventeen years, and having, by his applica¬
tion, induced a number of the nobility and gentry to pa¬
tronize and carry the scheme into execution, he at length
obtained for it a royal charter. He was also instrumental
in promoting the trade of America, by procuring a bountv
upon naval stores imported from our colonies; and he had
a concern in setting on foot the colonies of Georgia and
Nova Scotia. His last charitable design, in which he lived
to make some progress, was a scheme for uniting the North
American Indians more closely to the British interest, by
means of an establishment for the education oflndian girls.
In short, he spent the greater part of life in labouring for
the public, and experienced a fate too common with those
who devote their talents to such laudable purposes; being
at last indebted for subsistence to the voluntary subscrip¬
tions of some public-spirited persons, at the head of whom
was Frederick, prince of Wales. Captain Coram died in
1751, and was interred at his own desire in a vault under
the chapel of the Foundling Hospital.
CORAN, or Alcoran. See Alcoran.
CORBAN, in Jewish antiquity, were those offerings
which had life, in opposition to the minchab, or those which
had not. It is derived from the word karab, which signi¬
fies to approach, because the victims were brought to the
door of the tabernacle.
Corban is also a ceremony which the Mahommedans
perform at the foot of a mountain in Arabia, near Mecca.
It consists in killing a great number of sheep, and in dis¬
tributing the carcasses among the poor.
CORBEIL, an arrondissement of the department of the
Seine and Oise, in France. Its extent is 420 square miles;
and it is divided into four communes, containing 51,750
inhabitants. The city which gives name to the circle is
situated at the junction of the Essonne with the Seine,
and contains 800 houses, and 3404 inhabitants, who carry
on a great trade in corn, and manufacture leather and
linen cloth. Long. 4. 21. E. Lat. 48. 48. N.
CORBEILS, in Fortification, little baskets about a foot
and a half in height, and eight inches wide at the bottom
by twelve at the top. These being filled with earth, are
frequently set one against another upon the parapet or
elsewhere, leaving intervening spaces open, through which
to fire upon the enemy under cover.
CORBET, Richard, bishop of Norwich, and a poet of
some note, was born at Ewell, in Surrej^, towards the lat¬
ter end of the sixteenth century, and educated at Oxford,
where he was esteemed one of the most celebrated wits
of the university. Having entered into holy others, he
became a popular preacher, and was made chaplain to King
James I. Al ter receiving several preferments in the church,
he was in 1629 appointed Bishop of Oxford, and in 1632
translated to the see of Norwich. He w as very hospitable,
2 s
321
Coraco-
mantes
Corbet.
322 COR COR
Corculum and a generous encourager of public designs. He died in piated on the scaffold this simple act of complaisance to- ( jf
II 1635. His poems were not printed till after his death, wards an unknown female stranger. . At that time theD’
Corday namely, in 1648, 8vo, and in 1672, 12mo, under the title convention resounded with the most violent declamations '4
D Armans. o£ poemafa Stromata. His versification is easy, but gene- against the proscribed patriots, and the only question was
rally prosaic, and he displays more levity than exactly who should propose to adopt the most furious measures
comports with the episcopal character; but his poems against them. Such vehement invectives against men
were written long before his promotion, and probably whose cause she had embraced, redoubled the indignation
never intended for publication. Charlotte Corday, and she hesitated no longer about
CORCULUM, a diminutive from cor, the heart, the executing the project she had formed. Marat, who of all
essence of a seed, or the principle of life of the future the conventional deputies had contributed the most pub-
plant, attached to and. contained within the lobes. hcly the revolution of the 31st May, had not for several
CORCYRA, in Ancient Geography, an island in the days made his appearance in the assembly. But this extra-
Ionian Sea, opposite to Thesprotia, a district of Epirus, ordinary woman, whose purpose nothing could shake, hav-
and called Scheria and Phseacia by Homer. In Callima- ing discovered his lodging, wrote to him in these terms
chus it is called Drepane, which, according to the Scho- “ Citizen, I have just arrived from Caen. Your love for
hast, was its most ancient name. It is famous for the your native place doubtless makes you desirous to learn i
shipwreck of Ulysses and the gardens of Alcinous. Cor- the events which have occurred in that part of the repub- j
cyra is now Corfu, one of the Ionian Islands. lie. I shall call at your residence in about an hour;-
Corcyha, the chief town of the island, formerly power- have the goodness to receive me ;—I will put you in a
ful, and capable of coping with mighty states. It is situated condition to render a great service to France.” Tins let-
about the middle of the eastern side of the island. It was ter, and a second of a similar description, having remained
called the Town of the Phaeacians by Homer, and is now unanswered, she wrote a third, on the 15th July 1793, in !
Corfu, from the Koev<pu of the middle ages, the name of the which she spoke of great secrets which she had to reveal,
citadel. It was founded by a colony of Corinthians. Long, and of personal misfortunes to which she hoped the gene-
19. 55. E. Lat. 39. 40. N. rous soul °f Marat would not be insensible. She followed
CORD, or Chord, an assemblage of several threads of the bearer of this last billet, and arrived almost as soon as
hemp, cabled or twisted together by means of a wheel, he at the door of the deputy. I wo women, who were in
See Cordage. The word comes from the Greek the antichamber, refused at first to allow her to enter;
which properly signifies an intestine or gut, of which cords but Marat, having gathered from their conversation that
may be made. it was the person who had repeatedly written to him, or- I
Cord of Wood, a certain quantity of wood for burning, dered her to be admitted. He was then in a bathing-
so called because it was formerly measured with a cord, tub, being afflicted with a disgusting malady, which had
The dimensions of a statute cord of wood are eight feet reduced him almost to a state ot putrefaction. The con-
in length, four feet in height, and four feet in breadth. versation commenced as to what was passing m the Cal-
Cord Wood is new wood, and such as, when brought vados, when Marat inquired of Ins unknown visitor the
by water, comes on board a vessel, in opposition to that names of the deputies and administrators who were then
which is floated. at Caen and at Evreux, wrote them down from her dic-
CORDAGE, a term used in general for all sorts of tation, and ended by saying, that in a few days he would
cord, whether small, middling, or large. See Rope-Mak- cause them all to be guillotined at Paris. This was enough.
ING Without waiting to hear more, she drew a knife which she
CORDATED, an appellation frequently given by na- bad concealed under her gown, and buried it to the hilt in
turalists to things somewhat resembling a heart. the breast of Marat, who, having exclaimed “ A moi, ma
CORDAY D’ARMANS, Marie-Anne-Charlotte, chereamie!” almost instantly expired. 1 he two women,
was born in 1768, at St Saturnin, near Seez, in Normandy, alarmed by the noise, rushed into the apartment just as
and descended of a noble family. After the events of the the wretch was breathing his last, whilst Corday, still ho d-
31st May 1793, the heads of the republican party of the ing the bloody knife in her hand, endeavoured to make
convention, Guadet, Gensonne, Petion, and others, having her escape. Not daring to lay hold of her, the women
been proscribed bv Robespierre, sought refuge in the de- overturned some articles of furniture in her way, anti
partments of the Eure and the Calvados, where they shouted out murder. 'I he guard arrived, and the heroic
hoped to stir up in their favour the numerous population assassin being seized, was immediately handed over to
of Normandy. At this time the works of certain popular the revolutionary tribunal. But her firmness did not tor
writers, and particularly those of the Abbe Raynal, her an instant forsake her. Fouquier-Tinville attempting to
favourite author, had obliterated from the mind of Char- pronounce an eulogy on the murdered teirorist, sie m-
lotte Corday those lessons of gentleness and resignation terrupted him sharply, declaring that Mai at was a mon-
which she had imbibed in the peaceful convent where she ster, who well merited his fate. 1 he offence ana a is
had been educated; whilst the cause of the refugees, circumstances being not only confessed, but defended Dy
which she now accounted alike honourable and patriotic, the accused as a meritorious and patriotic act, her oom
the energy and charm of their conversation, and the inte- could not for a moment be doubtful. Still tins b oo y
rest which a generous nature always feels in behalf of tribunal, which had so often condemned without eyi enpe
men of merit unjustly persecuted, excited beyond mea- or against it, affected to exhaust all the ordinary ju icia
sure her ardent imagination. Accordingly, observing that formalities before pronouncing sentence, and appom e
those around her manifested but littie desire to inflict ven- Chauveau-Lagarde to defend the accused. I he e enc
geance upon the oppressors of her country, she resolved consisted merely of a repetition of the confession w ic
singly to strike a blow which should spread terror and dis- the prisoner herself had previously made, with a strut g
may among the ranks of the triumphant faction. She allusion to the imperturbable tranquillity and sub ime a
therefore'repaired to Paris, where she at first occupied her- negation of every personal or selfish consideration ex
self in endeavouring to ascertain the temper of the public bited by her almost in the presence of deat itse , .
mind; and she then managed to get introduced to the hint, which, however, was wholly thrown away, thaJ
gallery of the convention by the Abbe kauchet, to whom might have acted under the influence o some s
she applied for the purpose, and who soon afterwards ex- mental hallucination. The prisoner gracefully tna
COR
!orcl
' II
jrdL <
ryl ^
her counsel for the few words lie had uttered in her de¬
fence, declaring at the same time that the only plea
worthy of her was an avowal of the act in which she glo¬
ried; and she heard sentence of death pronounced with
the same unequalled serenity, and without the least per¬
ceptible change either in the colour or the expression of
her countenance. The same extraordinary force of cha¬
racter or strength of enthusiasm sustained her in her last
moments, and rendered her at once an object of interest,
astonishment, and terror. On her way to the guillotine
she was assailed, without being in the slightest degree
affected, by the bootings of the rabble; and, in presence of
the apparatus of death, she stood unmoved, whilst her fine
and noble figure seemed to assume a more dignified and
imposing attitude. When the executioner proceeded to
remove part of her dress, the sentiment of offended mo¬
desty was strongly expressed by her features; but as to
the life of which she was about to be deprived, it seemed
not to cost her a thought, nor to give her an instant’s con¬
cern. She was decapitated on the 17th July 1793, at the
age of twenty-five. (Couet de Gironville, Charlotte Cor-
day decapitee d Paris le 11 th Juillet 1793, ou Memoires
pour servir d l Histoire de la Vie de cette Femme celebre,
Paris, 1796, 8vo.)
CORDED, in Heraldry. A cross corded some authors
take for a cross wound or wrenched about with cords ; but
others, with more probability, consider it as a cross made
of two pieces of wood.
CORDELIER, a Franciscan, or religious person of the
order of St Francis. The Cordeliers were clothed in thick
gray cloth, with a little cowl, a chaperon, and a cloak of
the same stuff, and they had a girdle of rope or cord tied
with three knots; and hence the name. They are other¬
wise called Minor Friars, which was their original deno¬
mination. The name of Cordelier is said to have been first
given them in the war of St Louis against the infidels, in
which the Minor Friars having repulsed the barbarians,
the king inquired their name, when it was answered, they
were people cordeliez, or tied with ropes. The Cordeliers
are to a man professed Scotists.
CORDEMOI, Gerald de, a philosopher and historian,
born at Paris about the beginning of the seventeenth cen-
tury, made himself known to M. Bossuet, who placed him
about the dauphin in the quality of reader. He instruct¬
ed that young prince with great assiduity, and in 1675
was received into the French Academy. He wrote a ge¬
neral history of France during the first races of the French
kings, in two volumes, Paris, 1685 and 1689, folio; six dis¬
courses on the distinction between Body and Soul, Paris,
1666, 12mo; A Physical Discourse on Language, Paris,
1668,1677,12mo; Treatises on Metaphysics, History, and
Politics, Paris, 1691, 12mo; and other works. The col¬
lected edition of his works, under the title of CEuvres de
Cordemoy, appeared, at Paris in 1704, 4to. He died in
1684. M. Cordemoi followed the principles of Descartes.
CORDILLERAS, mountains of South America, other¬
wise called Andes.
CORDON, in fortification, a row of stones, rounded on
the outside, and set between the wall of the fortress
which lies aslope, and the parapet which stands perpen-
mular, in such a manner, that the difference may not be
o ensive to the eye. Hence the cordons serve only as an
ornament, ranging round about the place, and being only
used m fortifications of stone-work; for in those construct-
6 t*1G V0'^ sPace fihed up with pointed stakes,
f a 0ne ^our d*v*si°ns °f the province
0 ndalusia, in Spain. It is now in all public documents
usua y called the kingdom of Cordova. It is bounded
on t ie north side by Castile, on the west by Estremadura,
011 e south by Seville, and on the east by Murcia. The1
COR
323
superficial extent is 724 square miles, and in 1804 the Cordova,
number of inhabitants was 252,028.
I he principal river which runs through it is the Gua¬
dalquivir by which it is divided into two parts ; to the
north of that stream it is called the Sierra, and to the south
the Campma. I he Sierra is an elongation of the Sierra
Morena, which proceeds from the most southern part of
La Mancha, and abounds with pastures, fine woodsf hives
of bees, sheep, goats, and animals of the chase. The
Campina is distinguished by the excellence of its soil, and
the abundance of grapes and olives which it yields, bv
which a part of Castile is supplied with some wine and
much oil. In both divisions of Cordova there are several
mines of various metals.
Agricultural industry is, however, in general much ne¬
glected ; so that, with a soil highly favourable for its growth,
the province does not yield wheat sufficient for its own
consumption. This neglect of cultivation arises in a great
degree from the larger portions of land being held in mayo-
razo, a species of entail of a very strict nature. The occu¬
piers of land are in general very deficient in capital, and not
likely, under the system of letting it for short terms, and
collecting the rent in produce, to accumulate much more.
A general scarcity of water is experienced during many
months, and there is no sum expended in the business of
irrigation at all adequate to the want of it that is experi¬
enced. The manufacturing industry of this province has
gradually declined ever since the expulsion of the Moors.
It is now reduced to some looms of silk for various de¬
scriptions of taffetas, ribbons, and other goods. Hats are
made here, and there are manufactories of soap, leather,
and silversmiths’ goods.
^ Cordova, a city of Andalusia, the capital of the king¬
dom of that name, and long the metropolis of the empire of
the Moors in Spain. It is situated in a most delightful spot,
being on the southern declivity of the Sierra Morena,
which protects it from the cold winds of the north and the
east; and it is also on the right bank of the Guadalquivir,
whose waters are used for irrigating the rich plain that
surrounds it. 1 he most striking remains of the Moorish
magnificence are now visible in the enormous cathedral
which was formerly the principal Mahommedan mosque.
This edifice was finished by the Moors about the year
800, and was then nearly a square building, being 420 by
510 feet. The roof was not high, being but thirty-five
feet from the floor. It was supported by numerous mar¬
ble columns, according to some descriptions amounting to
1000, according to others to 780, which formed nineteen
aisles from east to west, and twenty-nine from north to
south, according to the description of that accurate and
minute antiquarian IVIorales. There were gates covered
with bronze, embossed in a most curious and expensive
manner, hour thousand seven hundred lamps were light¬
ed in this mosque every night, and the oil used in them
was mixed with the wood of aloes, with ambergris, and
other expensive perfumes. The Arabian monarch of the
race Ommiades, who reigned in this capital, and who
possessed enormous revenues, seems to have most pro¬
fusely lavished them in the decorations of Cordova. At
the death of Abdelrahman, this city is said to have con¬
tained within its walls two hundred thousand houses, six
hundred mosques, nine hundred baths, and numerous
public libraries; whilst on the bank of the Guadalquivir,
under the power of that monarch, there were eight cities,
three hundred towns, and twelve thousand populous vil¬
lages. The twelve caliphs, his successors, gradually de¬
clined in power, and with it the wealth and population of
the country decreased, till the period when the seat of
the Moorish government was transferred in 1013 to the
city of Granada.
COR
COR
The mosque, now become a Christian church, is dimi- COREA, a large peninsula of Asia, formed on one side c„
nished in size, by having a part which served the Mahom- by the Yellow Sea, and on the other by the Sea of Japan,
medans for the ablutions which their ritual prescribed, It is situated immediately to the east o C a, anil its &■
converted into a kind of garden, which is planted with length may be estimated at 400 miles, by 150 in average ”
orange trees and cypresses, and has three beautiful foun- breadth. A great part of what was lormerly supposed to
tah,s° This garden, and the portico, supported by pillars, be its western coast has been found, from the voyages
is five hundred and ten feet in length. The lowness of of Captains Hall and Maxwell to those shores, to consist
the roof forms a striking: contrast with the lofty arches of an immense archipelago of small islands, the number of
which°s^ipportSthe^oof^of ^h^'other cathedrals in Spain, which can scarcely be calculated. The interior, wh,oh
whether of Gothic or of more recent erection. The ori- is known only by accounts received from China, or by
of the style of the building is destroyed by the those of Humel, a Dutchman, who was shipwrecked there
addition of a motfern lofty tower, and the building being in the middle of the seventeenth century, is said to be tra-
surrounded wkh houses, the beauty is hid; so that it now versed by an extensive chain of mountains from north to
south. The northern districts are cold, and produce only
barley and ginseng; but the southern plains yield rice,
millet, silk, and other products of China. The king of Corea
is a tributary of the emperor of China, to whom he sendsan
were visited, describes them as differing from the Chinese
in dress, language, and appearance, and having none of
that courtesy which they experienced everywhere in Chi-
rather exhibits the extravagant expenditure, than the taste,
of the period in which it was erected. It is, however, the
most curious monument of the extraordinary race who tor
p«iodCaede“rree which rnpuafembassyrwhich' is treated by the emperor of China
period a degree otKno * . f Eur with great haughtiness. It does not appear, however, that
BrforeThe Moor! entered Spaiii"cordova was /city of the emperor of China interferes in the interior regime of
considerable importance. Under the Roman government the kingdom. Ihe Coreans resemble the Chinese in their
it was well known by the name of Corduba, and was manners. They follow the religion of lo oi Buddha;
strongly fortified. The remains of the Roman walls are and, like the Chinese, they have their men of ette s,.l,o
still tcAe seen in the same imperishable state as when form a class by themselves. They are o. tolerable sta-
still to be seen, n t e i ture; but reserved and distant in their manners, and repel
itPpreIen“ Corfova does ’not contain more than thirty the advances of strangers. • Captain Hall, by whom the,
thousand inhabitants, who depend in some degree on ma¬
nufactures, but much more on agriculture. The country
Ce? range of forth’nbSS of naT They are; according to Ills acconnt, i rndor people,
limoid streams These hills are covered with pines and of a dark copper colour, and forbidding in then counte-
generally in indigent c'^c^™st^jces^ ar^jpay the rent by
principidbnMinls of the city are the bishop's pa- net. They are destitute of
lace and the holy office, both of which, though pot ele- the spaces between them being
wmmmimm
southern part of the province; and it is defendea by a tower ^ GORL ’ V which in the Molossian dialect,
which, when the Moors constructed it, must have been a pine, named Core, K..*, which, in tlie
sufficient defence, but it is now of no other use than as a a.gn,fi« a beaut,fnl woman ^ ^ ^ ^ ^
toll-house. This province is famous for its breed of horses; CORELLA, P- ’ *1, P it has a con-
and the royal stables, as well as the army, draw their best ’.a"^bldt 15 tehe™anufacture of shoes, with the up.
TmtDUS, vlS a^learned botanist, was the son per parts of straw and the bottoms of™^^
of Ericins Cordns, a physician and poet of Germany, very commonly worn by the poorer classes rf the mha^
Having learned the languages, he applied himself to the tants. bear *'s a'® tifon b „f coal,
study of botany, in the prosecution of which he examined reduced to a state ht f ;n Snain owing to
the mountains of Germany, and travelled into Italy ; but which, though not common ye ... , raised and
bring wounded in the leg by the kick of a horse, he died the prejudices of the natives against m s here ™««1»
Zfr » '?*• HeUm Remarks on Dioseorides, nse^as inek^ and
“CORDWAINERS, or Cordiuers, the term by which composer, was bP™ ^"s;g” H^rMeirad'wsS
the statutes denominate shoemakers. The word is formed tory of Bologna, in February 16o3. s- oneui 0f the
from the French cordonnier, which Menage derives from instructions in counteipart from i £ . ^the
roXt!a kind of leather br’onght from Coulova, of which Papal chapel 1 and ent^mmg.n ^
the upper leathers of shoes were formerly made. Others violin, he was put “ ldcl B B„mnl’eted his musical studies,
rr,rrss
under the nam; of n^ates. But the former etymology J^^fBav^H” relied toLly about theyear
is better warranted.
COR
1680, and settled at Rome, where he composed his first
twelve sonatas, and became leader of the band of the opera,
then in a very flourishing condition in that city.
The fame of Corelli as a composer and performer began
now to spread throughout all Europe, and many persons
went to Rome to study under the greatest master on the
violin who had then been heard of. In 1685 he published
his second set of sonatas, which he entitled Balletti di
Camera. In 1690, his third, and in 1694 his fourth operas
appeared. Of these four sets of sonatas, which are writ¬
ten as trios for two violins and violoncello, with an addi¬
tional part for the organ, the third is generally account¬
ed the best, but all of them are remarkable for ingenious
contrivance. Corelli subsequently gave to the world his
Concerti grossi, and other well known and highly esteem¬
ed works; but the most celebrated of all his productions,
and that by which he acquired the greatest reputation
during his lifetime, was his »SWos, composed in 1700, which
have been long and justly regarded as the foundation of
all good schools for the violin, and are said to have cost
him three years to revise and correct them.
During liis residence at Rome, Corelli enjoyed the fa¬
vour and patronage of Cardinal Ottoboni, the general en-
courager of polite arts and learning, at whose house he
became acquainted with the celebrated Handel. Cres-
cembini informs us, that he led an academia or concert
given by the cardinal every Monday evening ; and having
been appointed permanent director of music, he continued
to reside in the palace of his patron till the day of his death,
which happened on the 18th of January 1713. He was
buried in the church of the Rotunda or Pantheon, in the
first chapel on the left hand of the entrance of that beauti¬
ful temple, where a monument, with a marble bust on it,
was erected near that of the great painter Raffaelle, by
Philip William, count palatine of the Rhine, under the
care of Cardinal Ottoboni. For many years after his
decease he was commemorated by a solemn service, con¬
sisting of pieces selected from his own works, on the anni¬
versary of his death ; a solemnity which continued as long
as his immediate scholars survived to conduct and perform
in it. A bust was also erected to his memory, in the
Vatican, with this inscription: Corelliprinceps Musicorum.
Corelli was a passionate admirer of pictures, and lived
in an uninterrupted friendship with Carlo Cignani and
Carlo Marati, who were rivals for his favour, and for a
series of years presented him at times with pictures, as
well of their own as of other masters. He thus became
possessed of a large and valuable collection of original
paintings, which, together with about L.6000 in money,
he bequeathed to his friend and patron Cardinal Ottoboni,
who, reserving the pictures to himself, generously dis¬
tributed the rest of his effects among the relations of the
testator.
Of the private life and moral character of the composer
little information has been preserved ; “ but,” as Dr Bur¬
ney remarks, “if we may judge of his equanimity and na¬
tural disposition, by the mildness, sweetness, and even
tenor of his musical ideas, his temper must have endear¬
ed him to all his acquaintance, as much as his talents.”
He was not, however, insensible of his acquirements, as
we are told that on one occasion, while playing a solo at
Cardinal Ottoboni’s, having remarked the cardinal and
another person engaged in discourse, he immediately laid
down his instrument; and being asked the reason, replied,
that he feared the music interrupted their conversation.
The compositions of Corelli are distinguished no less
for elegance and purity of melody, than for the harmony
which results from the music of the several parts. His
talents were displayed to advantage in the most solemn,
as well as in the most lively style. Several of his move-
COR 325
ments are referred to by musicians as quite perfect in Corfau
^ ^ir i 'p ' a^emands are remarkable for spirit, force, II
and delicacy; his gigas are gay and sprightly; and his Corfu*
adagios are expressive and imposing. Some difference
exists among modern musicians as to the manner of exe¬
cuting the compositions of Corelli, particularly when they
cidniit of extempore ornament from the performer. On
this point, however, we have the authority of an Eno-lish
musical gentleman, who heard them performed at Rome
by the scholars of the master, for asserting that his works
ought to be played in a slow, firm, and distinct manner,
just as they are written, and without changing the pas¬
sages in the way of embellishment.
Geminiani s estimate of the character of Corelli as a
composer is upon the whole a just one. “ His merit,”
says he, “ was not depth of learning, like that of Scar¬
latti; nor great fancy, or rich invention in melody or har¬
mony ; but a nice ear and most delicate taste, which led
him to select the most pleasing harmonies and melodies,
and to construct the parts so as to produce the most de¬
lightful effect upon the ear.” It is indeed, we may add,
in their peculiarly beautiful construction, that the charm
of Corelli's compositions chiefly consists. Taken as a
whole, they do not display great inventive power; and all
the varieties in harmony, modulation, and melody they
contain, might be comprised in a narrow compass ; but by
an inimitable combination, or, asw'e may term it, dovetailing
of the parts, the composer has succeeded in producing
effects which, while they give a character of inexpressible
fascination to his music, have rendered it impregnable
against the attacks of time and fashion. Notwithstanding
the striking changes that have been wrought upon musi¬
cal art during the last century, the tasteful musician looks
with reverence and respect on the time-honoured compo¬
sitions of Corelli. Unfaded in worth, they are still con¬
tinually resorted to as the primitive but pure and copious
emanations of a refined and skilful genius, which has ex¬
ercised no mean influence over the progress of musical
science to its present highly cultivated state. (z. z.)
CORFAU, a village of Asia Minor, on the road from
Is Nikmid to Constantinople, ten miles west of Is Nikmid.
CORFE-C ASTLE, a borough town of the hundred of
Hasler, in the county of Dorset, 120 miles from London.
The castle from which it takes its name is one of the
finest piles of ruins of ancient times. It is situated on a
conical hill of near half a mile in circuit, with walls twelve
feet in thickness. It was formerly a prison and a royal
residence. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 741, in
1811 to 744, and in 1821 to 823.
CORFU, the chief of those islands which form the
Ionian republic. It is situated at the entrance of the
Adriatic Sea, between the latitudes 39. 22. and 39.26. N.
and the longitudes 19. 55. and 20. 27. E,; and in extent it
is 235 square miles, or about 150,000 English acres, and
is divided into seven cantons. It is opposite the eastern
shore of Greece, in no part more than five miles, and to
the north scarcely more than one mile, distant. The island
is generally rocky and mountainous, but none of the heights
exceed 1400 feet. The hills are mostly naked, and they
stand so close to each other as to leave space for only
very narrow valleys. There are some exceptions, where the
low ground has a good depth of calcareous, clayey, or loamy
soil. It is better supplied with water than the other
Ionian Islands, having several brooks, which are full in the
winter and spring, and some which are not wholly dried
up in the summer. There are many copious springs, and
in the south-west there is the fresh-water lake Corissia.
The climate is mild but variable, and changes from great
cold to intense heat within a few hours, ihe wind from
the north, but particularly from the east, by passing over
326
Corfu.
COR
COR
the snowy mountains on the continent, brings severe cold;
whilst the wind from the south conveys either sultry
heat or rain and thick fogs. There are few years in which
shocks of earthquakes are not felt, but their effects are
less disastrous than are experienced in Cephalonia.
The land in Corfu is cultivated on the metayer sys¬
tem, as practised in Italy, by which the produce is di¬
vided betwixt the proprietor and the occupier. The
product of greatest value is that of the olive trees, said
to be in number upwards of three millions. Although the
olives are harsh in taste, and the management of the oil,
both in expressing and in preserving, is far from being
skilful, yet it is said that upwards of 80,000 quintals are
made, much of which is consumed within the island, and
the surplus is sufficient to pay for what foreign goods the
inhabitants want. Corn and wine are produced, but nei¬
ther in sufficient quantity for the consumption. There is
an abundant supply of vegetables and fruit, as well as of
nuts and acorns, all of which furnish part of the means of
subsistence; and some addition is made to them by the
fishing, which might be rendered more productive, but for
the indolence of the natives.
There is little trade, and that is in the hands of the Ve¬
netians, and of some English houses established since the
republic has been placed under British protection. The
oil has been already noticed; next to which salt must be
added, of which about 200,000 quintals are yearly ob¬
tained. The exports amount to less than the imports;
and the gradual improvement of the natives would pro¬
ceed, if many of them did not repair to the continent to
work during harvest, and return home with their gains.
The population amounts to about 75,000 persons, inha¬
biting’ one city, eleven market towns, and one hundred
and eighteen villages and hamlets. They are mostly of
the Greek race, and adhere to the ritual of the Greek
church ; but among them are many Roman Catholics of
Italian origin. Although the Greeks compose six-sevenths
of the whole population, they have no bishop; but the ec¬
clesiastical affairs are regulated by a protopapa, under the
direction of the patriarch of Constantinople. The num¬
ber of their churches is very great, besides which they
have several monasteries and nunneries. The Catholics
have an archbishop and cathedral, with five churches and
three monasteries. There are on the island about four
thousand Jews, who for the most part live in the capital.
This, with the other islands, was mastered by the Vene¬
tian republic at the end of the fourteenth century, and,
though frequently assailed by the Turks, continued under
their dominion till 1797, when it was taken possession of
by the French. In 1799 it was conquered by the united
forces of Russia and Turkey, and, with the other islands,
erected into a republic. It was again subdued by France,
but at the peace of 1815 was placed under the exclusive
protection of Great Britain. The republic is now govern¬
ed by a senate and house of representatives, under an
English lord high commissioner, who, besides the garri¬
sons of regular troops in the several islands, has the com¬
mand of a numerous militia of natives. Each of the islands
has its separate courts of civil and criminal law, as well as
its revenue department, but the whole revenue is brought
into one general treasury.
Corfu, the capital of the island, and of the canton of
that name, in the Mediterranean; the Corcyra of the
ancient Greeks. It is situated on the eastern coast of the
island, on a promontory, to the north of which is the bay
of Corfu. It is strongly fortified both towards the sea and
the land. The houses are not lofty; only the principal
streets are paved; and, as a whole, it is by no means a well
built city. It contains a cathedral and four churches for
Catholics, and thirty-six churches and chapels for those
of the Greek communion. The inhabitants amount to Cot;
15,600, besides the garrison. The harbour is safe for j
shipping, and has from twelve to fourteen fathoms of depth,
A naval arsenal has been established, and the fortifica-''“’V
tions much strengthened by the English. Long. 19. 6. E.
Lat. 39. 40. N.
CORGO, an island in the Persian Gulf, about two miles
north of Karak. Its area is about two square miles. It is
of a light sandy soil; and it abounds in water. 1 hough
not inhabited at present, it is capable of being cultivated,
and produces both wheat and barley during the rainy sea¬
son.
CORIA, a town of Spain, in the province of Estrema-
dura. It is situated on the banks of the river Alagon,
which runs into the Tagus. The plain on which it is built
is beautiful and fertile, and yields abundance of wine and
vinegar from its vineyards, which are very extensive. It
is situated in long. 6. 16. W. and in lat. 39. 36. N. It con¬
tains an old castle, two churches, two monasteries, two
hospitals, and 4500 inhabitants. It has a bishop.
CORIDOR, or Corridor, in fortification, the covert¬
way which is formed between the fosse and palisade on
the counterscarp. The word, which is derived from the
Italian coridore, or the Spanish coridor, is becoming obso¬
lete as a military term.
Coridor, in architecture, signifies a gallery or long aisle
around a building, leading to several chambers, sometimes
wholly inclosed, and sometimes open on one side.
CORIGLIANO, a city of Italy, in the Neapolitan pro¬
vince of Otranto, containing 4000 inhabitants.
Corigliano, a city of Italy, in the Neapolitan province
of Calabria Citeriore. It lies in the midst of a very ex¬
tensive olive wood, from which oil is made, the trade in
which furnishes subsistence to the 6000 inhabitants.
CORINGA, a sea-port of Hindustan, in the Northern
Circars, and district ot Rajamundry, situated on the west¬
ern side of the bay of Bengal. It is the best port on the
coast of Coromandel, and affords the only smooth water
on that coast in the south-west monsoon, Point Godavery
projecting out to the southward, and breaking the swell
from the sea. A wet dock has lately been constructed,
capable of admitting a frigate. It carries on a considera¬
ble trade with Bengal and Pegu; and the principal exports
are teak wood and salt to the former, and piece goods to
the latter. In 1787 a dreadful storm and inundation of
the sea occurred at this place, which swept away the
greater part of the town, and almost the whole inhabi¬
tants ; and from this calamity it has scarcely yet recover¬
ed. The French had an establishment here before any
other Europeans; and some part of their factory stl“
mains. The English took possession of the place in 1709,
and established their factory five miles to the south of U-
ringa. Long. 82. 29. L. Lat. 16. 49. N. <
CORINJAH, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Berar, belonging to the Nagpoor rajah, forty-eight miles
west by north from Nagpoor. Long. 7J. 2. E. Lat. a-
13. N.
CORINNA, a Grecian lady, celebrated for her beauty
and poetic talents, was born at Tanagra, in Bceotia, near
Thebes, and was the disciple of Myrtis, another Grecian
lady. Her verses were so much esteemed by the Greeks,
that they gave her the name of the lyric muse, o e ivet
in the time of Pindar, about 495 years before Christ, and
is said to have five times gained the prize of lyric poetry
in competition with that poet; but Pausamas observe,
that her beauty rendered the judges partial, bhe com¬
posed fifty-books of epigrams and odes, of which only som
few verses remain, collected by F'ulvius Ursinus
Christian Wolf. . . r „
CORINTH, a celebrated city of antiquity, for some
Si
COR
time the most illustrious of the Greek cities. It i& said
to have been founded 1514 years before Christ, by Sisy¬
phus the son of iEolus. Various reasons are given for its
name, but most authors derive it from Corinthus the son
of Pelops. It was situated on the southern part of the
isthmus which joins the Peloponnesus, now the Morea, to
the continent. It consisted of a citadel built upon an
eminence, and thence called Acrocorinthus; besides which
it had two maritime towns subject to it, named Lechaeum
and Cenchreae. The whole state extended scarcely half a
degree in length or breadth ; but so advantageously situ¬
ated were the ports above-mentioned, that the Corinthians
might have acquired a superiority, if not a command over
all Greece, had not their situation inclined them to com¬
merce rather than war. Their citadel was almost impreg¬
nable ; and, commanding both the Ionian and iEgean seas,
they could easily have cut off all communication from one
half of Greece with the other, for which reason this city
was called one of the gates of Greece.
But as the genius of the Corinthians led them to com¬
merce rather than war, their city became the finest in all
Greece. It was adorned with the most sumptuous build¬
ings, as temples, palaces, theatres, porticos, all of them
enriched with a beautiful kind of columns, which, from the
city, were denominated Corinthian. But though the Co¬
rinthians seldom or never engaged in a war with the view
of enlarging, but rather of defending their little state, they
did not forget to cultivate discipline both in time of peace
and of war. Hence many brave and experienced gene¬
rals have been furnished by Corinth to the other Grecian
cities; and it was not uncommon for the latter to prefer a
Corinthian general to any of their own.
This city continued to preserve its liberty till the year
before Christ 146, when it was pillaged and burnt by the
Romans. At that time it was the strongest place in the
world; but the inhabitants were so disheartened by a pre¬
ceding defeat, and the death of their general, that they
had not presence of mind enough even to shut their gates.
The Roman consul Mummius was so much surprised at
this, that at first he could scarcely believe the circum¬
stance, and fearing an ambuscade, advanced with all pos¬
sible caution. But as he met with no resistance, his sol¬
diers had nothing to do except to destroy the few inhabi¬
tants who had not fled, and to plunder the city. Such of
the men as had remained in the town were all put to the
sword, and the women were sold as slaves. After this
the city was ransacked by the rapacious soldiery, and the
spoil is said to have been immense. There were, in fact,
more vessels of all sorts of metal, and more fine pictures
and statues executed by the greatest masters, in Corinth,
than in any other city in the world. All the princes of
^ Europe and Asia, who had any taste in painting and sculp¬
ture, furnished themselves here with the richest move¬
ables; at Corinth were cast the finest statues for temples
and palaces; and all the liberal arts had been brought to
the greatest perfection. Matty inestimable pieces of the
most celebrated painters and statuaries fell into the hands
of the ignorant soldiery, who either destroyed them, or
parted with them for a trifle. Polybius the historian was
an eye-witness of this barbarism of the Romans, and had
the mortification to see two of them playing at dice on a
famous picture by Aristides, which was accounted one of
the wonders of the world. The piece was a Bacchus, so
exquisitely finished, that it was proverbially said of any
extraordinary performance, it is as well done as the Bac¬
chus of Aristides. This masterpiece of painting, however,
the soldiers willingly exchanged for a more convenient
table to play upon. But when the spoils of Corinth were
afterwards put up to sale, Attalus, king of Pergamus, of¬
fered for it six hundred thousand sesterces, or nearly five
COR
thousand pounds of our money; upon which the ignorant
Mummius, surprised at such a high price being offered for
a picture, and imagining that there must be some magical
virtue in it, interposed his authority, and, notwithstand¬
ing the complaints of Attalus, carried it to Rome, where
it was lodged in the temple of Ceres, and afterwards de¬
stroyed by fire, together with the temple itself. Another
instance of the stupidity of Mummius is, that when the
pictures were put on board the transports, he told the
masters of the vessels very seriously, that if any of the
things were either lost or spoiled, he would oblige them to
find others at their own cost; as if any other pieces could
have supplied the loss of those inestimable originals, exe¬
cuted by the greatest masters in Greece. When the city
had been thoroughly pillaged, it was barbarously set on
fire at all points, and totally destroyed. At this time
the famous metallic mixture is said to have been formed,
which could never afterwards be imitated by art. The
gold, silver, and brass, which the Corinthians had con¬
cealed, were melted, and ran down the streets in streams ;
and when the flames were extinguished, a new metal was
found, composed of several different ones, fused together
by the conflagration, and greatly esteemed in after ages.
The town lay desolate until Julius Caesar settled on the
spot a Roman colony ; when, in removing the rubbish, and
excavating, many vases of brass or earthenware, finely
embossed, were discovered. The price given for those
curiosities excited industry in the new inhabitants; they
left no burial-place unexamined ; and Rome, it is said,
was filled with the spoils of the sepulchres of Corinth.
Strabo, who was at Corinth soon after its restoration
by the Romans, describes the site as follows. “ A lofty
mountain, in perpendicular height as much as three stadia
and a half (nearly half'a mile), the ascent thirty stadia (about
three miles and a quarter), ends in a pointed summit call¬
ed Acrocorinthus. Of this, the portion to the north is
the most steep, beneath which lies the city, on a level area
at the foot of the Acrocorinthus. The circuit of the city
alone has been forty stadia (about five miles), and as much
of it as was unsheltered by the mountain has been walled
about. Within the inclosure was comprehended also the
Acrocorinthus, where the mountain was capable of receiv¬
ing a wall; and as we ascended, the vestiges of it were
plain ; so that the whole circumference exceeded eighty-
five stadia (nearly eleven miles). On the other sides the
mountain is less precipitous, but rises very high, and is
visible all around. Upon the summit is a small temple
of Venus ; and below it the spring Pirene, which does not
overflow, but is always full of pellucid and potable water.
They say it unites with some other hidden veins, and forms
the spring at the base of the mountain, running into the
city, and affording a sufficient supply for the use of the
inhabitants. In the city there is plenty of wells, and also
in the Acrocorinthus, as they say, for we did not see any.
There, they relate, the winged horse Pegasus was taken
as he was drinking, by Bellerophon. Below Pirene is the
Sisypheum, a temple or palace of white stone, the remains
of which are not inconsiderable. From the summit is be¬
held to the north Parnassus and Helicon, lofty mountains
covered with snow ; and below both, to the west, the Cris-
sean gulf, bounded by Phocis, by Bceotia and the Megaris,
and by Cbrinthia and Sicyonia, opposite to Phocis. Be¬
yond all these are the mountains called the Oneian, stretch¬
ing as far as Bceotia and Cithseron, from the Scironian rocks
on the road to Attica.
New Corinth had flourished 217 years when it was vi¬
sited by Pausanias. It had then a number of antiquities,
many temples and statues, especially about the agora or
market-place, and several baths. The Emperor Hadrian
introduced water from a famous spring at Stymphalus in
Corinth. Arcadia ; and it was provided with various fountains alike
copious and ornamental. The stream of one issued from
a dolphin, on which was a brazen Neptune; of another,
from the hoof of Pegasus, on whom Bellerophon was
mounted. On the right hand, proceeding along the road
leading from the market-place toward Sicyon, were the
odeium and the theatre, near which was a temple of Mi¬
nerva. The old gymnasium was at a distance. On the
way from the market-place toward Lechgeum was a gate
on which were placed Phaeton and the Sun in gilded cha¬
riots. Pirene entered a fountain of white marble, nom
which the current passed in an open channel. Ihe metal
called Corinthian brass is supposed to have been immerg-
ed while red hot in this water. On the way up to the Acro-
corinthus were temples, statues, and altars ; and at t ie gate
next Tenea was a village with a temple of Apol o, sixty
stadia or seven miles and a half distant, on the i oad to i ly-
cenm. At Ledimum were a temple and a brazen image
of Neptune; at Cenchrem there were also temples ; and
on the way from the city there were a grove of cypress
trees, sepulchres, and monuments. Opposite was the Bath
of Helen, composed of tepid salt water, flowing plentifully
from a rock into the sea. Mummius had ruined the thea¬
tre of Corinth; and the munificence of the great Athenian,
Herodes Atticus, was displayed in an edifice with a roof
inferior to few of the most celebrated structures in Greece.
But the Roman colony was destined to suffer the same
calamity as the Greek city, and from a conqueror more
terrible than Mummius, namely, Alaric, the savage de¬
stroyer of Athens and of Greece. In a country harassed
with frequent wars, as the Peloponnesus had since been, the
Acrocorinthus was a post of too much consequence to be ♦
neglected. It was besieged and taken in 1456 by Ma-
hommed II. in consequence of the despots, or lords of the
Morea, brothers of the Greek emperor who had been killed
in defending Constantinople, refusing payment of the ar¬
rears of the tribute which had been imposed by Sultan
Murad in 1447. The country became subject to the Turks,
except such maritime places as were in the possession of
the Venetians ; and many of the principal inhabitants were
carried away to Constantinople. Corinth, with the Morea,
was ceded to the republic at the conclusion of the war in
1698, and again by it to the Turks in 1715.
Corinth is included in the canton of Kordos, by which
name the city also is more commonly known than by the
ancient name. It is on the elevated isthmus of Corinth,
and being fortified, is the key of the gulf, and presents most
beautiful prospects over the bay and the opposite shore,
crowned with Parnassus and other hills. It contains thiee
mosques,five Greek churches, and 500 houses, with a popu¬
lation of 4000 persons. It is a place of some trade, which
consists of exports of wheat and other grain, wool, cheese,
oil, currants, kermes, tar, pitch, butter, wax, and honey.
Though the remains of ancient and extensive buildings
may be traced, they are chiefly in ruins, leaving nothing
to remark but some Doric columns of very ancient archi¬
tecture, and the remains of a bath of brick, of Latin con¬
struction. Long. 2.3. 3. 10. E. Lat. 37. 55. 54. N.
Corinth, the Isthmus of, in the Morea, is a neck of
land which joins the Morea to Greece, and reaches from
the gulf of Lepanto or Corinth, to that of iEgina. Perian-
der, Alexander, Demetrius, Julius Caesar, Caligula, Nero,
and Herodes Atticus, all attempted to cutachannel through
it, but in vain, owing, it is said, to the difference in the le¬
vel of the water on the two sides of the isthmus ; and they
therefore afterwards built a wall across it, which they
called Hexamilium, because it was six miles in length.
This was demolished by Amurath II. and afterwards re¬
built by the Venetians, but was levelled a second time by
Mahommed II.
CORINTHIAN, in general, denotes any thing belong.Coring
ing to or connected with Corinth. I hus we say, Corinthian II
brass, the Corinthian order, and the like. fork.
Corinthian Order, in Architecture. See Architec- S-’Vv
TURF..
CORIO, Bernardino, an historian, born of an illustri-
ous family at Milan, in the year 1459. He was secretary
of state to that duchy ; and Ludovico, duke of Sforza, em¬
ployed him to write the history of Milan. He died in 1519.
The best edition of his history is that of Milan, 1503,
folio. It is printed in Italian, and is very scarce. He
wrote, besides, Vitce Ccesarum, and Utile Dialogo Amo¬
roso, a poem.
CORIO, a market-town of Italy, in the province of Turin,
of the kingdom of Sardinia. It is divided into five parts,
which together number 5200 inhabitants.
CORIOLANUS, CAiusMARCius,a celebrated Roman
captain, who took Corioli, a town of the Volscians, whence
he derived his surname. At last, having disgusted the
people, he was banished from Rome by the tribune Decius.
He went over to the Volscians, and having persuaded them
to take arms against the Romans, encamped within four
miles of the city. An attempt was now made to negotiate;
but he would not listen to proposals of peace, till he
was prevailed upon by his mother Veturia, and his wife
Volumnia, who overcame his resolution with their tears,
and saved Rome, but ruined Coriolanus. He was put to
death by the Volscians as a traitor who had caused them
to abandon their conquest; upon which the Roman ladies
went into mourning, and in the place where his blood had
been spilt a temple was consecrated to female fortune.
♦ CORK, the bark of a tree of the same name ; Quercus
Suher, Lin. . . ^ m
In order to take off the bark, an incision is made from the
top to the bottom of the tree, and at each extremity another
round the tree, perpendicular to the first. When the tree
is fifteen years old, it may be barked for eight years suc¬
cessively ; and the quality of the bark improves with the
age of the tree. When stripped from the tree, which does
not therefore die, the bark is filed up in a pond or ditch,
and loaded with heavy stones to flatten it, and reduce it
into a tabular form. It is then removed to be dried; and
when sufficiently dry, put in bales for carriage. If care be
not taken to strip the bark, it splits and peels of itself,
beino- pushed up by another bark formed underneath.
The cork tree, and the uses to which the bark may be
applied, were known both to the Greeks and Romans.
Pliny informs us that the Romans employed it to stop all
kinds of vessels; but the use of it for this purpose does
not appear to have been common till the invention of
glass bottles, of which, according to Professor Beckman,
there is no mention before the fifteenth century.
Other vegetable productions have been sometimes em¬
ployed instead of cork. The spondias lutea, a tree which
orows in South America, particularly in moist places, and
which is there called monbin or monbain, is sometimes
brought to England for the purpose of stopping vessels.
The roots of liquorice are applied to the same use, and
on this account the plant is much cultivated in Sclavoma,
and exported to other countries. A tree called nyssa,
which grows in North America, has been found also to
answer as a substitute for cork. _
Cork Jacket or Waistcoat, is an invention of one Du-
bourg, a gentleman fond of swimming, but subject to the
cramp, which led him to consider of some method by which
he migffpenjoy his favourite diversion in safety, ihe
waistcoat is composed of four pieces of cork, two for the
breasts and two for the back ; each nearly equal in leng
and breadth to the quarters of a waistcoat without naps,
and the whole is covered with coarse canvass, and proviu-
CORK.
ed with two holes to put the arms through. There is also
a space left between the two back-pieces, and the same
betwixt each breast-piece, that they may the more easily
fit to the body. Thus the waistcoat is only open before,
and may be fastened on the wearer with strings, or buckles
and leather straps. This waistcoat does not^ weigh above
twelve ounces, and may be made for an expense of about
five or six shillings. Dubourg tried his waistcoat in the
Thames, and found that it not only supported him in the
water, but that two men could not sink him, though they
used their utmost efforts for the purpose.
Cork, the largest and most populous county in Ireland,
and the most southern in position, is bounded on the north
by the county of Limerick, on the east by those of Tippe¬
rary and Waterford, on the south by the Atlantic Ocean,
and on the west by the county of Kerry. Its surface com¬
prehends 1,769,560 acres, or 2765 square miles. In length
it measures eighty-six miles from Crowhead in the west
to Youghal in the east; its breadth, measured in a north¬
eastern direction from Baltimore to Charleville, is sixty
miles. According to Ptolemy, it was inhabited by the
tribes of the Juvernii, the Coriundi, and the Yodii. Be¬
fore the arrival of the English it was considered as a dis¬
tinct sovereignty or principality, over which the Mac-
arthys held the chief sway. It was granted by Henrv II.
to Robert Fitz-Stephen and Milo de Cogan, with the" ex¬
ceptions of the city of Cork and the cantred belonging to
the Ostmen of the same city, which the king retained.
King John made it shire-ground in 1210, and appointed
sheriffs and other local officers for its government. But,
during many subsequent years, the royal writs were of but
little efficacy in many parts of it, as the great families, the
principal of which were the Macarthys, the O’Sullivans,
the O’Callaghans, the O’Driscols, the O’Learys, the O’Ma-
honys, the O’Donovans, the Barrys, the Roches, and
the Condons, still virtually commanded the allegiance of
the inhabitants. The county is now divided into two
ridings, eastern and western, in one or other of which its
twenty-two baronies are included as follow: East riding,
Barrett s, Barrymore, Condon’s and Clangibbon’s, Du-
hallow, Fermoy, Imokilly, Kerrycurrihy, Kinnalea, Kinna-
taloon, Kinsale, East Muskerry, and Orrery and Kilmore;
west riding, Bantry, Bere, Ea'st and West Carbery (each
of which is again subdivided into an eastern and western
division), Courcey’s, Ibaneand Barryroe, Kinalmeaky, and
Yest Muskerry. I he city and liberties of Cork constitute
a separate jurisdiction, though included in the east riding.
These baronies are subdivided into two hundred and
twenty-five parishes, and one part of a parish, the remain¬
der of which is in the county of Waterford. The smallest
territorial divisions are denominated ploughlands, a vague
and undefined measure, said by some writers to contain
upwards of four hundred English acres.
The county contains the three dioceses of Cork, Ross,
and Cloyne. The first occupies chiefly the central parts
of the county; the church of St Finbar’s, in the city of
Cork, being the cathedral of the see. Ross lies in the
western parts, extending through the baronies of Bantry
and Bere, and part of Carbery. Its cathedral, built in the
town of Ross, was formerly known by the name of the
church of Faughan Ross, from having been founded by
St Feaghan, who flourished in the ninth century. The
eastern part of the county is occupied by the diocese of
Cloyne, the cathedral of which is in the town of the same
name. The wardenship of Youghal, formerly an exempted
jurisdiction, was united to the last named of these (Apeses
in 1639. The see of Cloyne was united to that or Cork
in 1431, and so continued till 1638. After the restoration
it was annexed to those of Cork and Ross, which had been
united in 1586, and the three continued to be held in con-
vol. VII.
junction until 1678, when that of Cloyne wras separated
tom the others, and has remained so, the union of Cork
and Ross having continued to the present day. According
to the new arrangements for the church of Ireland, these
three dioceses are to be re-united.
I he surface of this county is very uneven, forming na¬
tural basins or protracted valleys, each being the channel
of a large river. I hose basins have an eastern direction,
and are separated from each other by ridges of elevated
land, the highest of which are the Bogra Mountains, a
vast uncultivated tract of heath and bog, grazed by nu¬
merous herds and flocks during the summer. The Kil-
worth Mountains are in the north of the county, south of
which is the basin of the Blackwater, a river which, risin<>-
on the confines of Kerry, and flowing eastward through the
- northern baronies, enters Waterford county, where, chan«--
ing its direction southwards, its estuary forms the boun¬
dary between the two counties, and spreads itself into
Youghal Bay. During its course it receives the Alla, the
A "'beg (celebrated by Spencer under the name of the
Mulla), the Araglin, and the Bride. Few rivers present a
greater variety of rich and picturesque scenery. The Lee
rises in the small lake of Gougane Barra, sometimes call¬
ed Lough Lee, and after expanding itself into another lake
of larger dimensions named Inchigeela, it flows through
the city of Cork, where it becomes navigable for large
vessels, and empties itself through a vale of singular beauty
into Cork harbour. Its chief branches are the Toone, the
Shullane, the Foherish, the Dripsey, the Bride, the Awbeg,
and the Glanmire. The Bandon river flows from the Dun-
manway Mountains, by Bandon town, into Kinsale harbour;
its only tributary stream of any importance is the Brinney.
The Arigadeen river passes by Timoleague into Court-
macsherry Bay. The only river of any note which swerves
from the eastern direction already noticed is the Illen,
which takes a southern direction through the western dis¬
tricts by Skibbereen into Baltimore Bay. The general
character of these rivers is rapidity, which, though un¬
friendly to inland navigation, is singularly favourable to
the extension of manufactures, from the multiplicity of
mill-sites they form.
The only lakes worthy of notice are those already men¬
tioned as the sources of the Lee, which claim attention,
not from their extent, but from their scenic beauties. Gou¬
gane Barra is a very small lake, inclosing a still more di¬
minutive island or peninsula, on which the ruins of a re¬
ligious cell attributed to St Finbar are still visible. Soli¬
tary devotion could not have selected a more appropriate
spot. From the base of a steep and rocky mountain bursts
forth a most copious spring, the waters of which, thrown
back by a rugged eminence at a little distance from their
source, form the lake. A little farther is the long narrow
lake of Inchigeela, extending nearly three miles, studded
with several small islands, and surrounded by mountains
of rude grandeur and imposing altitude, which exhibit
many varieties of cataract and waterfall. The loss of the
timber which formerly clothed the mountains and islands
has considerably diminished the beauties of these lakes.
The want of the means of inland navigation is in a great
degree compensated by the numerous bays and inlets
capable of admitting large vessels, with which the coast
is indented. Proceeding westwards from Youghal Bay,
and passing that of Ballycotton, which, though large, is
wholly unsheltered, the fine and capacious inlet of Cork
harbour appears, completely landlocked, and capable of
accommodating a royal fleet. Its narrow entrance is de¬
fended by batteries on each side, and on the great island
opposite to its mouth. Spike Island and Hawlbowling
Island, within the harbour, are strongly fortified, and used
as naval arsenals. Kinsale harbour, though incommoded
2 x
329
Cork.
CORK
by a bar at the entrance, has depth enough within for the
largest vessels. Cloghnakilty and Castlehaven harbours
are lit for smaller vessels only; but Baltimore Bay has
deep water, and enjoys the shelter oi Cape Clear Island,
and several others at its entrance. Crookhaven is narrow,
but well ■sheltered. Dunmanus Bay, though having deep
water and good anchorage, is little frequented except by
small craft, or during summer, in consequence of its ex¬
posure to the western gales. Bantry Bay is large, sate,
and commodious for vessels of any size. Within its en¬
trance is Bear Island, and much farther inwards W biddy
Island, off which lay the French fleet that attempted an
invasion in 1796. The water is deep almost close to the
shores, and free from rocks and shoals. Ballydonaghan
Bay and Quolagh Bay lie near the mouth of Kenmare
river. This last-named inlet, though called a river, is an
estuary of large dimensions, separating the counties of
Cork and Kerry, and capable of accommodating the lar-
^ The most remarkable among the numerous islands along
the coast, besides those already mentioned, are Inchuiony,
in Cloghnakilty Bay; Cape Clear, Imsherkm, and Ringa-
rona or Donegal Island, in Baltimore Bay; and Dursey s
Island; off the southern point of Bere Barony. Of these,
Cane Clear is the largest and most remarkable. It was
formerly supposed to be the most southern point Ire¬
land ; but Browhead, near Mizenhead, is now found to
have the right to this mark of distinction. The inhabitants
of Cape Clear five almost wholly secluded from the world,
being governed by a system of unwritten law peculiar to
themselves. The island has a small lake near its centre,
possessed of the singular quality of purifying any tainted
vessels that lie for a short time in it. ^
The climate of Cork is not so varied as might be sup¬
posed in a district so extensive, and of a surface so tuver-
sified. Its general character is that of a mean between
tiie extremes of beat and cold. Along the sea coast win¬
ter is disarmed of much of its seventy by the prevalence
of southern winds, which seldom suffer the heaviest snow
to lie many hours undissolved, except on the northern
sides of high hills; the sea breeze equally tempers the
violence of the summer heat. There is also reason to be¬
lieve that the climate has been materially improved by
the felling of the forests and the drainage of the bogs and
marshes. , ,
The geological divisions of the county may be arranged
under four heads. The first includes the calcareous districts
in the northern parts. These contain extensive beds of mar¬
ble and limestone, the base of which is unknown. A second
vein of limestone extends from the west of Cork city east¬
wards to Youghal Bay. Coal appears in the north-western
extremity of this district, which, from its approaching the
surface in many places considerably distant, may be con¬
jectured to be abundant. It is raised in several places,
hut the disadvantages of situation in mountainous disti icts
remote from water carriage prevent its general use. I be
second geological division is chiefly contained in the wes-
& • J* oil Anri C two
Cork supply abundance of stone fit for building, but hard Cwi,
to be worked. The fourth or greystone district includes
the greater part of the county south of the Lee. It con¬
tains several kinds of argillite and of grit, a few veins of
calcareous schistus, and a large proportion of slate. The
city of Cork, and most parts of the northern disti icts, are
supplied with this article from tne numerous quaines along
the southern coast. Large masses of quartz, generally in¬
clining to a globular form, and weighing three or four
hundredweight, appear frequently on the surface, particu¬
larly in Carbery Barony. Near Ross is a very remarkable
rock composed entirely of white quartz, the blocks of
which are of great size and regular conformation. Bogs of
great extent are almost exclusively confined to the moun¬
tainous parts; their usual substratum is hard rock or re-
tentive clay. The county contains little of the strong
clayey loam so common in England, still less of sandy
ground, and no chalk. Iron was formerly raised and smelt¬
ed in large quantities, until the process was stopped by
the exhaustion of the timber used for fuel. Lead, gene¬
rally combined with quartz, and in small veins, and copper,
are of rare occurrence, though there are grounds for con¬
jecturing that this latter metal exists in some of the hills.
Near the town of Mallow is one of the most celebrated
mineral springs in Ireland. It resembles the waters of
Bristol in its sensible and operative qualities, and is ap¬
plied to the same medicinal purposes. Strong chaly¬
beate springs have been discovered at Kanturk and in
the neighbourhood of Macroom. St Bartholomew’s well,
near the city of Cork, is of a sulphureous quality.
The inhabitants of this county are in general of the
middle size, muscular in their limbs, and capable of en¬
during great fatigue. Instances of men of veiy large sta¬
ture and athletic proportions are not uncommon. Ihe
O’Driscols, who formerly possessed Cape Clear, are de¬
scribed as being much above the common height. A thigh
bone of one of the last members of that family is still to
be seen, and, according to the measurements of some sci¬
entific persons, must have belonged to a man upwards of
seven feet in height. In the labouring classes, the women as
well as the men perform their journeys on foot, and sel¬
dom seem to be affected by fatigue, though loaded with
heavy burdens. Before the general extension of posts,
messages were usually conveyed by foot runners, who
executed their missions with surprising speed, bitty Irish
miles a day was considered as no very extraordinary per¬
formance for an active footman. It is somewhat remarkable,
that though both sexes are equally well-limbed in child¬
hood, the full grown women are seldom well formed in
their legs; a circumstance attributable only to their car¬
rying heavy burdens, and to their mode of sitting in a
crouching posture in their cabins. When young tliey ,^e
well-looking; but owing to early marriages, frequent child-
births, and the smoky state of their dwellings, they soon
contract an old and v/ithered look. In their disposition the
labouring classes are lively7 and cheerful; indeec g'iave or
gloomy dispositions are very uncommon. They, indulge
second geological division is chiefly contained in the wes- gloomy disposition, •n"dancine in which
urn mountainous districts, but it also comprehends two m sports ot ^P07^ time
elevated ranges which inclose the calcareous basin of the they move with ease and alacrity, 1 »
Boater! The more northern of these contains siliceous with the mustc. Nor are they less remat table tora cm
breccia with red argillite, none of which is to be found in
the southern. The stone of the highest hills on the north¬
ern side of Bantry Bay consists chiefly of masses of sili¬
ceous <Trit; and the secondary hills contain a slaty argillite,
intermixed with veins of grit. The eastern mountains have
a thick covering of clay; those of the west are more bare
and rocky. The third division, or redstone district, occu¬
pies most of the northern parts that are pot calcareous,
and also the whole of the great elevated tract between the
-W- 1.1 Til  rTK /-» 11 V*1M OC TIAQl*
W ILi 1 Lite, muioivx* v —j i I f f *rn
tinual flow of conversation, even though there be but two
persons present. In a convivial party, the difficu yg
rally is to find a listener. The Irish language still conti¬
nues to be a common medium ot intercourse in m y
parts; but its use is every year more and more limited
the unfrequented and mountainous districts.
There is a great intermixture of English blood am 8
the inhabitants. Besides the followers of Strongbow,
whose descendants have long ranked among t ie
and also the whole of the great elevated tract between the whose were the founders
basins of the Lee and the Blackwater. Tim quarries near fluential families, the English settlers w
c o
of most of the towns. To these succeeded the numerous
bands of adventurers whose services were rewarded at
different periods with grants of conquered or forfeited
lands. With these came many followers, whose inter¬
marriages with the natives gradually instilled into their
posterity the manners and prejudices of the natives. The
Danes also, who possessed several of the sea-ports and
the adjoining districts, increased these international varie¬
ties of character. It is said that this people, at no very
distant period, had maps of the lands formerly held by
them in Ireland, and that they frequently threw in an
Irish settlement as part of a daughter’s marriage portion.
The easy communication between this county and the
Spanish peninsula also led to a commercial intercourse,
which, together with the military invasions of the Span¬
iards during the reigns of the Tudors, has had its due ef¬
fect in impressing a distinctive character on the inhabi¬
tants.
The population of the county, including that of the
city and liberties, was ascertained to be as follows in the
several annexed periods :—
1791. By returns of the hearth-money collectors, 460,434
1812. By the first parliamentary census 603,328
1821. By the second parliamentary census 730,444
1831. By the third parliamentary census 807,446
The census of 1821 is the only one of these which can
be considered as approximating to accuracy; yet the two
others, taken under acts of parliament, though avowedly
imperfect, afford sufficient data for inferring a rapid and
undeviating increase of population. It has nearly doubled
in forty years.
Previously to the Union, the country returned twenty-
six members to parliament; two for the county at large,
and two for each of the boroughs of Baltimore, Bandon,
Castlemartyr, Charleville, Cloghnakilty, Doneraile, Kin-
sale, Mallow, Middleton, Rathcormuck, and Youghal. At
the Union, the number was reduced to eight; two for the
county, two for the city, and one for each of the boroughs
of Bandon, Kinsale, Mallow, and Youghal. The reform
act has made no change in the representation. The num¬
ber of freeholders entitled to vote at the count}' election,
before the disfranchisement of the forty-shilling free¬
holders, was about 6000 ; by that measure it was reduced
to 3100. Under the reform act it amounts to 4020.
The state of education is as follows, according to the
reports of the board of education in 1824-26. There were
then 1354 schools, in which somewhat more than 69,000
pupils were instructed. Of these, 45,000 were boys and
, 24,000 girls. Of the whole number, 9494 were of the es¬
tablished church, 58,174 were Roman Catholics, 340 dis¬
senters; and of the remaining 1110, the religious per¬
suasion had not been ascertained. Of the total number,
51,347 paid for their education ; and but 17,771 were edu¬
cated through the contributions of private individuals, or
by grants of public money ; and of these two latter classes,
the one amounted to 15,392, the other only to 5242. The
great preponderancy of the Roman Catholic religion may
be fairly inferred from the preceding statement. The
number of dissenters’ children receiving education is ex¬
tremely small, and chiefly limited to the city of Cork and
i few of the larger towns.
In a district of such extent and variety of surface, the
state of agriculture must be liable to much variation. The
more populous parts near the sea, and in the vicinity of the
i great lines of communication, exhibit very favourable spe¬
cimens of agricultural improvement. In the more retired
and mountainous districts, several of which, from the
tvant of well-constructed roads, are still nearly impervious
except to the residents, the cultivation of the soil is car-
R K.
ried on according to the habits of the past century. Soade
cultivation is used to a considerable extent. In the im¬
proved parts, limestone and sea-sand are largely used,
where facilities of carriage are to be had. Dairies are
much attended to. The character of the Cork butter
stands high, both in the British and foreign markets. In
several parts fences are made of a high bank, with abroad
top, on which furze is sown. This plant, if due attention
be paid to it, not only forms an impenetrable bed-m, but,
by being cut. periodically, affords a valuable supply of fuel
in the districts remote from a sea-port, and where turf is
not easily procurable.
Manufactures are not carried on to any great extent,
notwithstanding the frequent attempts made to establish
them. Linen cloth is wrought in some places, but not in
much larger quantities than the demands of the surround¬
ing districts require. Sail-cloth is wrought in the liberties
of Cork. A factory for the finer kinds of woollen cloth was
erected about thirty or forty years ago at Middleton; but
it was soon afterwards relinquished, and the buildings con¬
verted into a barrack. The woollen manufacture is now con¬
fined to frieze and coarse blanketings. An attempt late¬
ly made to establish the silk trade, by naturalizing the
silk worm, completely failed, after a large portion of land
had been planted with mulberry trees for their suste¬
nance. The only extensive manufactures are those of
whisky and porter, which cause a considerable demand
for the agricultural produce. There are large paper-mills
on some of the numerous mill-sites; but the late changes
in the excise laws, and the interference of British paper-
makers, whose extensive capital enables them to furnish
the article on terms highly advantageous to the purchaser,
have rendered this manufacture a very hazardous specula¬
tion. The supply of salted provisions for the navy and the
West Indies during the late war, was a source of great
profit both to the city of Cork, where the business was
chiefly carried on, and to the farmers throughout the
county. The export, tliough considerably diminished since
the peace, is stiil of much importance.
The county abounds in antiquarian relics. Among the
most ancient are cromleachs, raths, pillars consisting of
a single stone, and sometimes two pillars dissimilar in
height, placed at a short distance from each other, and
caves in several instances of considerable length. Vaults
with low entrances are often found in raths; these also
are sometimes of a square form. The remains of ancient
monasteries and other ecclesiastical structures are nume¬
rous, but none of them is very remarkable. Many exam¬
ples occur of the relics of very small churches, built of
stone without mortar, and totally destitute of architectu¬
ral ornament. There have been built two round towers
in the county; one at Cloyne, the other at Kinneagh.
Ruins of military structures are equally common, hearing
strong marks, even in their dilapidated condition, of the
period in which they were erected. Some few are well
preserved, and are the residences of families of respecta¬
bility.
The city of Cork is situated on the river Lee, about ele¬
ven miles from its mouth. Though now second only to
the metropolis of Ireland in magnitude and importance, it
was but lately that it attained so high a situation. Originally
it was confined to a swampy island, formed by the diverg¬
ing branches of the river; from which circumstance it de¬
rived its name of Corcagh, which signifies low marshy
land. Its commencement is thought to be coeval with
that of the bishopric founded by St Finbar in the seventh
century. In the ninth century it was walled in by the
Danes. At the time of the arrival of the English, and for
several centuries afterwards, it consisted merely of a single
street, passing through the island from north to south, con-
331
Cork.
oo9
Cork.
COR
nected by bridges secured by gates, and having a few lanes
branching out in an eastern and western direction, toge¬
ther with a suburb on the southern bank of the river. In
1690, it was besieged and taken by the Duke of Marl¬
borough for William III. The Duke of Grafton, a na¬
tural son of Charles II. and a volunteer in the besieging
army, was killed before the walls. Since that period, the
city has increased rapidly in size and wealth, covering
not only the island, but extending northwards and south¬
wards over the adjacent mainland. Its increase is chiefly
attributable to its^advantageous situation for the provision
trade, which was carried on here with great profit during
the American and French revolutionary wars. 1 he de¬
tached parts of the city have been connected by bridges
of elegant construction ; the lesser branches of the river,
which formed several petty islets, have been arched over,
several fine streets erected, and public buildings, both for
civil and ecclesiastical purposes, raised on a scale com¬
mensurate with the growing prosperity of the place, ihe
exchange, the corn-market, and the court-house, are bunt
according to approved rules of modern architecture. Ihe
jails for the county and city are extensive and wefl ar¬
ranged. The barracks afford accommodation for 4000 in¬
fantry and 1000 cavalry. The new market is held in a
spacious building, according to the plan of the town mar¬
ket of Liverpool. The ecclesiastical buildings have not
kept pace with those just described. The cathedral, de¬
dicated to St Finbar, is a structure of very moderate ar¬
chitectural pretensions, being remarkable chiefly for a
tower at its west end, supporting a spire of considerable
height and of very inelegant form. Ihe principal Roman
Catholic place of worship is of large proportions, and
highly ornamented in the interior. The situation of the
city, in a valley closely surrounded by grounds of consi¬
derable elevation, renders it generally gloomy, and very
subject to rain and fogs; but its environs are peculiarly
beautiful. On the west, the Mardyke Walk extends for
a mile along the banks of the Lee ; and the roads m other
directions towards the Black Rock, Blarney, Glanmire,
and, above all, to Cove, exhibit a variety of highly orna¬
mental and picturesque scenery, seldom to be paralleled
in the environs of a great city.
The public institutions are numerous. Of those ot a
benevolent character, the principal are, the house of in¬
dustry, founded in .the hope of extirpating mendicity;
the fever hospital; the asylum for lunatics and for pe¬
nitent prostitutes; the foundling hospital, and the lying-
in hospital; besides several schools, in which corporeal
support is combined with intellectual improvement. I he
most remarkable of these is the blue-coat schoo . e
principal literary association is the Cork Institution, the
endowment of which, granted by parliament in loOy, tor
maintaining lectureships in several brandies of science,
and for the support of a botanic garden and museum ot
minerals, has been lately withdrawn. A society of arts
was formed in 1815. Besides these, there are libraries
and reading-rooms, supported by voluntary subscriptions.
In former times, the city was celebrated for several mo¬
nastic institutions, founded for the double purpose of as¬
cetic devotion and acts of beneficence. Among these
were an Augustinian, a Franciscan, and a Dominican fri¬
ary, and a preceptory of the knights templars.
The municipal government, according to a charter
.ranted bv James I. in 1608, is vested in a corporation,
consisting" of a mayor, two sheriff's, a board of aldermen,
a recorder, and an unlimited number of freemen, who are
all entitled to vote at the elections of members ot parlia¬
ment
of the
COR
The number of freemen previously to the passing Corlfr(
or uie reform act was 1700; since that period it has (
increased to 3876, of which 2331 are freemen, and 1555 for,
freeholders. The city, including the liberties, occupies a W
considerable district, covering 45,000 acres.. It contains
fifteen parishes, besides seven parts of paiishes, the re¬
maining parts of which are in the county at Luge.. Seven
of these parishes are in the city itself, the remainder are
spread over the liberties.
The population of the city and liberties was, m 1821,
100,658, and in 1831, 107,007. That of the city alone was
as follows, according to the undernamed authorities:—
1810. Dr M‘Arthy, Roman Catholic bishop co¬
adjutor 84,000
1812. Imperfect census of this year 74,928
1821. Detailed census of this year 75,256
1831. Imperfect census of this year not stated.
The relative importance of the boroughs now entitled
to return members to parliament may be easily inferred
from the following table :—
Random.
Kinsale..
Mallow..
Youghal.
Acres.
439
273
6897
212
Population.
Constituency
Before lie- After Re¬
form Act. ! form Act,
9820
6897
7688
9600
13
64
550
290
230
310
530
425
CORLEONE, a city of Italy, in the intendancy of Pa¬
lermo, in the island of Sicily. It is situated on a volcanic
soil, at the source of the river Beho. It contains 1808
houses, with 12,520 inhabitants, who are sedulously era-
ployed in agriculture, upon the most fertile of lands.
CORMANDEL. See Coromandel.
CORN, the grain or seeds of plants separated from the
spica or ear, and used for making bread.
There are several species of corn, such as wheat, rye,
and barley, millet and rice, oats, maize, and lentils, peas,
and a number of other kinds, each of which has its pecu¬
liar qualities and usefulness. Egypt was anciently the
most fertile of all countries in corn. Ibis appears both
from sacred and profane history. It supplied a consider¬
able part of the people subject to the Roman empire, and
was called the dry nurse of Rome and Italy. Ceres has
the credit of being the first who showed the use of com,
on which account she was placed among the gods; others
attribute the honour to Triptolemus; whilst others aga
share it between the two, making Ceres the first discoverer,
and Triptolemus the first planter and cultivator of corn.
Diodorus Siculus ascribes the whole to Isis; m whicl,
Polvdore Virgil observes, he does not differ hom other
fuXTlsU Ld Ceres being in reality the same per,. .
The Athenians pretend it was among them that the a
took its rise; and the Cretans or Candrots, S,chans, »d
Egyptians, also lay claim to the distinction. Some th ‘
the title of the Sicilians best supported, Sicily bc n ^
country of Ceres ; and i, is alleged that she did no^h
the secret to the Athenians till she had first mstructea
her own compatriots. Others say that Ceres passed fi
into Attica, thence into Crete, and last ot a jn
Many of the learned, however, maintain tha
S that the art of cultivating corn first began; arid it
is certain there was corn in Egypt and the East a
fore the time of Ceres. ,
333
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
x. historical sketch of the corn laws.
All governments, in every age of the world, have in¬
terfered too much with the affairs of their subjects. A no¬
tion has very generally prevailed, that certain branches of
commerce were sometimes advantageous to society, though
ruinous to those who should attempt to carry them on;
and that other branches, though profitable to individuals,
were frequently inconsistent with the general advantage.
On a first view, this opinion, though essentially erroneous,
-seems sufficiently plausible. Many of the pursuits of in¬
dividuals apparently conduce very little, and may some¬
times even seem hostile, to the interests of the whole ; and
hence we are naturally enough led to infer, that the pub¬
lic advantage would be best consulted by their prohibition.
Nothing evinces more strikingly the prevalence of this no¬
tion of the propriety of restricting and directing the ope¬
rations of industry and the investment of capital, than the
regulations respecting the trade in corn. This, no doubt,
is only what might have been expected. To secure an
adequate supply of food, and to obviate famine and scar¬
city, must always be an object of the first importance with
legislators; and while the efficacy of the regulating system
is unquestioned, it is here it will be chiefly called into ac¬
tion.
When legislators abandon the principle of free compe¬
tition, and imagine they can give a more advantageous
direction to national industry, their habits and station in
society have a powerful influence in determining the re¬
gulations they adopt. Agriculturists raise corn for sale,
as well as for their own consumption ; and as they natu¬
rally endeavour to obtain the highest price for their pro¬
duce, where their voice predominates in the legislature of
a country, it is reasonable to presume, that the regula¬
tions respecting the trade in corn will be framed with a
design rather to enhance than to lower its price. Whether
they have that effect is an entirely different, and often a
very delicate inquiry ; but unless there be pretty explicit
evidence to the contrary, it is not easy to imagine, that
agriculturists, or those supported by agriculture, should
give their consent to any^ law intended to lower the value
of the products they have to dispose of. On the other
hand, where the legislature of a country is principally com¬
posed of merchants, manufacturers, capitalists, and others
depending on the profits of stock, as was formerly the case
in Holland, or where it is chiefly influenced by them, it
| is nearly certain it will not intentionally adopt any mea¬
sure which may have for its object to raise the price of
corn. When it is low, such persons obtain a comparative¬
ly large quantity in exchange for their peculiar products
or services. Howr then is it to be expected that they should
voluntarily consent to any measure which they supposed
would contribute to raise the price of so important an ar¬
ticle ?
Throughout the principal continental states, the regu¬
lations affecting the corn trade have been mostly framed
with a view to keep down the price of corn. This fact,
however, is perfectly consistent with what has now been
stated. After the feudal system lost its energy, and the
power of the great barons had been weakened by the rise
of cities and the consolidation of the royal authority, mo-
narchs were able to take such measures as appeared most
likely to benefit the lower classes of their subjects, which
it was then their object to exalt. Of these, none seems
more natural, or better calculated to effect its object, than
the imposing of restrictions on the exportation of raw pro¬
duce. If a nation raise more corn than is required for its History of
consumption, the first consequence of a prohibition of ex- the Corn
port is undoubtedly to lower its value. It is certain, in- T^ws-
deed, that this effect will very soon cease ; but, in early
ages,, men seldom attend to prospective considerations,
and it is not a very easy matter, even now, to convince
the bulk of mankind that the granting liberty to send
abroad the necessaries of life lowers their price at home.
To demonstrate, or even apprehend this principle, requires
a considerable acquaintance with political economy, a sci¬
ence altogether unknown when the first laws respecting
the corn trade were framed in the European common¬
wealth. With a view still further to reduce the price of
corn, its free importation was very generally allowed ; and,
in periods of scarcity, bounties or premiums, over and
above the market price, were sometimes given by the
state to the importer.
In this country, an opposite course has been pursued.
The Lords and Commons, the first depending entirely,
and the latter principally, on agriculture, having attained
great power and influence, we cannot be surprised at their
having more frequently exerted it to increase than to
lower the price* of corn.
Restrictions on the exportation of corn, without being
in any degree advantageous to the consumers, are emi¬
nently hurtful to agriculturists. While they exist, no mar¬
ket can be found for that excess of produce which an agri¬
cultural country generally has to dispose of in favourable sea¬
sons. Farmers are not, therefore, stimulated to exertion,
because, in a country thus situated, a luxuriant crop, by
its causing a great fall of price, is nearly as prejudicial to
them as a scarcity ; which, indeed, by its lessening the
quantity sown next year, it seldom fails to occasion. In
most countries, however, these very simple considerations
have been overlooked, and the exportation of corn, unless
in years of extreme plenty, has been forbidden under severe
penalties. In the reigns immediately succeeding the con¬
quest, this was done in England; but, in 1436, in the Statute of
reign of Henry VI. an act was passed permitting exporta- 14.3G; Po¬
tion without license, whenever the price of wheat did
exceed 6s. 8d. (equal in amount of pure silver to T2s. 10|d.^° lon‘
present money) per quarter, and barley 3s. 4d. In this
act it is stated, that the previous regulations had obliged
farmers to sell their corn at low prices, to the great pre¬
judice of the whole kingdom. But, in addition to the
reason assigned for this important measure, we may ob¬
serve, that, for a considerable time posterior to the con¬
quest, rents were paid in kind, and the high or low price
of corn was not, therefore, a matter of so much importance
to landlords, as it became after money rents were gene¬
rally introduced. In Henry I.’s time, the rents of the crown
lands were paid in corn and other farm produce, and were
only converted into pecuniary payments, in consequence
of the great complaints made by the tenants of the in¬
conveniences they suffered in bringing necessaries for the
king’s household from distant parts of the kingdom. (Eden’s
Inquiry into the State of the Poor, vol. i. p. 55.) The same
causes would doubtless affect, though in a less degree, the
tenants of the great barons ; and, when once money rents
were introduced, it was for the advantage of the proprie¬
tors that all obstacles to a rise in the price of corn should
be removed. A more favourable opportunity could not
have been found for effecting their abolition. Henry,
weak and irresolute, with a disputed title to the throne,
and a powerful competitor, could not, had he been so
disposed, have made any effectual opposition to a change
334
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
and in the sixteenth century. The consequent rise of prices, Histr
as it could not, in a nearly stationary state of society, the(
when capital was but slowly accumulating, he speedily La>
followed by a corresponding rise of wages, was necessa-
History of of the system on which the corn trade had been con-
the Corn ducted. ,
Laws. At the time when this act was passed, the prices of
corn were exposed to fluctuations of which we can now . _
form a very inadequate conception ; and hence it is not rily productive of much distress. Lut neither the go-
easy to determine whether the exportation price of 6s. 8d. verrment nor the people seems to have been at ail aware
was above or below the medium price. While the trade ol the real cause 01 the rise of prices, ar cl oi the extraor-
of corn merchants and corn factors was unknown, or la- dinary increase of pauperism in this interval. It was not
boured under degrading restrictions, very little providence yet known that silver may fall in value, and that this fall
was exercised in the distribution of the crops, and the su- must always be attended by a pioportional lise in the
perfluous produce of one year scarcely ever compensated money price of the commodities for which it is exchanged,
for a deficiency in the crop of the next. “ Purchasers,” Instead, therefore, of ascribing the enhancement of prices
says Sir F. M. Eden, “ who only looked to their imme- to the degradation of the coin, and the greater plenty of
diate wants, having corn cheap, were naturally wasteful gold and silver, it was universally affirmed to be owing to
and improvident in the consumption ; the price, therefore, the decay of tillage, and to the improper practices of corn
almost invariably rose as the year advanced, and was fre- merchants ; and many (now obsolete) statutes for the im-
quently at an enormous height just before harvest; and, provement of tillage, with the laws against engrossing,
before a fresh supply could be obtained, the stock of the forestalling, &c. owe their origin to the absurd attempts
preceding year was often entirely exhausted.” {Inquiry that were then made to lower the price of corn.
into the State of the Poor, vol. i. p. 18.) . Of this Sir Fre- That the complaints respecting the decay of tillage were
derick has collected many instances ; and he conjectures, very ill founded, appears evident. The great foreign de-
seemimdy with great probability, that the enthusiastic joy mand for English wool, the exportation of which was not
with which the rustic feast of harvest-home was ancient- then prohibited, caused the consolidation of some small
]y celebiated, arose chiefly from the almost constant fall farms, and the more general introduction of inclosures,
that then took place in the price of corn. But this fact, so far from being any proof of the alleged
That the act of 1437 was advantageous to the agricul- decay of tillage, affords satisfactory evidence of the accu-
turists cannot be doubted ; and having experienced the mulation of capital, and shows that some improvement had
benefit of legislative interference in one instance, they been made in agriculture.2 An increase in the size of
Statute of were not sl°^ in aSain havin£ recourse to it. Not satis-
pro- fied with the liberty of exporting, they procured in the
hibiting following reign (1463) the enactment of a law prohibit¬
ing importation from abroad until the home price exceed¬
ed the price at which exportation ceased. Had the un¬
certain and fluctuating policy of the times permitted the
proper execution of these laws, the restrictive system
would have been thus early perfected ; and, with the ex¬
ception of the bounty, all the refinements of modern policy
would have been in full operation. In practice, however,
they were nearly inoperative, and a lengthened period elap¬
sed before the agriculturists succeeded in obtaining a real
monopoly of the home market. (Dirom’s Inquiryr p. 34.)
Until the reign of Elizabeth, these acts nominally regu¬
lated the prices at which the exportation and importation
of corn might take place. In that period, however, the
coin had been greatly degraded; and the value of silver,
owing to the discovery of the American mines, was rapidly
falling throughout Europe in the latter part of the fifteenth
id
importa.
tion.
farms is, no doubt, always disagreeable to the lower classes; j
and being then attended by a great rise of prices, raised
the popular indignation to such a pitch that, in the reign
of Edward VI. the greater part of the inciosures were vio¬
lently demolished. As might have been foreseen, the
statutes directing the extension of tillage effected nothing;
unfortunately, however, those against engrossing were not
quite so inefficient.
By the statute fifth and sixth of Edward VI. cap. 14,itStah
was enacted, that whoever should buy any corn or grain, agaii
with intent to sell it again, should be reputed an unlawful™ ’
engrosser, and should, for the first fault, suffer two months^
imprisonment, and forfeit the value of the corn; for the^
second, suffer six months imprisonment, and forfeit double
its value; and for the third, be set in the pillory, suffer
imprisonment during the king’s pleasure, and forfeit all his
goods and chattels. And by the same law no person could
transport corn from one part to another, without a license,
ascertaining his qualifications as a man of probity and fair
i In 143G the pound sterling contained as much pure silver as is now contained in L.l. 18s. 9d. In 1464 the value o P
sterliim was reduced to L.l. 11s. present money, at which sum it remained stationary until 15..7, when it was reduced to L.l. 7*-M-
nresent money. In 1543 the previous value of the coin was again reduced about one seventh part, or to L.l. os. 34d. present mo y.
xtoqvo suhspmipnt. td thk pra. the nrocess of degradation advanced with unparalleled rapidity ; the weight Oi the coni be g
silver as is now contained m 4s. 7|d. in lo&z, tne last year oi uie leign ui ahmit
but the weight of the coin, and consequently the quantity of pure silver which it contained, was at the same t e
one seventh part below its weight in 1543, and hence the value of a pound sterling in 1552 corresponded to L.l. 63d. present money.
Since that period the standard has undergone almost no variation, either as to weight or purity. T i -7= nil T 1 63d or
It therefore appears, that between 1527 and 1552, the value of the pound sterling was reduced from L.l. 7s. M-to L.l. M, or
about one fourth part; and this degradation of the value of the coin, accompanied as it was by an extraordinary tall
the precious metals themselves, leaves us at no loss to account for the distress bywhichthe pecpieofLngiandwere then assaikd,
and for the universal complaints of a rise of prices. The dissolution of the monasteries by Henry Jill, m lo36 and IJSShascom
manly been considered as the immediate cause of the institution of a legal provision for the support of 11JP0lJ ’ of the
seems abundantly certain that this was really a consequence of the misery of the lower classes, caused by the deg .
standard, and the fall in the value of gold and silver. “ The principal real grievance at this time, says Mr John bmifli (» Mjf
Wool 8vo edit. vol. i. p. 88), when adverting to some riots and complaints caused by the high prices in looO, of the P° ,
nufacturers they do not appear to have been sensible of, and historians have since overlooked it, was the state of the ,
basement of the "coin, which was now of several years standing, had undoubtedly given a nominal advance to ad things ven i » ’
thTugh perhaps to w^ges too, yet probably nothing near in proportion to the difference of the coin. And, as the money m which
they were paid, not containing as much silver as it did before, would not purchase the same quantity of the necessaries 0 f ^
wont to do; that, in course, must have bore hard upon the lower sort of people especially, who had every Juig to buy, a
to sell except their labour.” This idea has been borrowed, and illustrated, in an article of considerable ment, pubhshe
the number of sheep to be kept in one flock to 2000. . It is
some proprietors had then flocks of 24,000 sheep. Anderson states, that in 1551 no fewer than sixty ships sailed tiom Sou P
for the Netherlands loaded with wool. (Histonj of Commerce, vol. ii. p. 89.)
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE. 335
Lfdealine* Neither could corn be purchased to be laid un In 1 t 1 • i
I, in granaries for home sale, unless the quarter of wheat place were extended to^ 10s n' eXp°fatl°n take History of
was at or under 6s. 8d. and oats at 2s. money of the time. 6s. 8d. for barley a„J malt 7 ^ ^ Laws™
By the same statute the authority of three justices of the soon after abandoned • and ’in l4o h w ,’ hoWe' eJ
peace was necessary in order to grant a license; and even corn might be exVoVte’(lTom’n,rt';n,,‘lt,rilLe.L!!Cted Statutes of
5* restraint not being thought suffic ent, a statute of paying a" duty ofTs.td Xr'g “ o 8d To ^ulrter 1^00ni1
Elizabeth confined the pr.v.lege of granting it to the quar- whenever no prohibition to the contrarv was LTed bv
%Sr,rded interest Shr,d have made .ittieoppo dt^^
ltlt,on to the laws restrict,ng the freedom ot tile internal sions, should consult with the respectable inhabitants of
lCorn trade, does not appear very surprising. Before the the counties, and determine whether any exoomLn
;principles of trade began to be understood, it was natural could with propriety be allowed. ^ P
;for landlords and farmers to conclude that they would The provisions of this act allowing corn to be exnorted
deal on fully more advantageous terms by selling their from one part of the country, at the same time that its
produce directly to the consumers, than by transacting exportation was prohibited in another, arose from the ex-
with them through the medium of a third party. For- treme inequality of prices. At this era roads were scarce-
getting that the profits of the corn merchants were but a ly formed; and as there hardly existed any communica-
fair remuneration^for the capital they had engaged m the tion between distant parts of the kingdom, the prices in
the different cohnties differed exceedingly from each other,
and from the price in London. England was then in the
same situation as Spain in the present day. A particular
province might be afflicted with scarcity, without deriving
lail nan ill tut;
most important of all employments—that of distributing
the supply of food equally throughout the year, and ac¬
cording to the effective demand—the farmers believed
that they were acquired from the community at their ex-
• ^ ‘ aimcLeu wmi scarcity, witnout deriving
pense, and, of course, felt no repugnance to the virtual any assistance from the superfluous produce of its neigh-
annihilation of the trade of the dealer. hours. But the complex nature of the regulations me-
But as society improved, and as the principles of com- vented their being properlv executed ■ and they were
merce were better understood, the had effects of these superseded by a fresh law (35th Eliz cap 7) which per
laws became apparent. The statute of 1548 was consi- mitted expo, cation on paying a duty of 2s. on wheat and
derably modified in 1624, and at last, by the 15th of of Is. 4d. on all other species of corn, whenever the price
Charles II, cap. 7, the engrossing or buying of corn, in order of wheat did not exceed 20s. per quarter, and barley
to sell it again, so long as the price of wheat did not ex- and malt 12s. This act did considerable service to agri-
ceed 48s. the quarter, was declared lawful to all persons
not being forestallers, that is, not selling again in the same
market within three months; an act, as Dr Smith has
justly observed, which, with all its imperfections, has con¬
tributed more, both to the plentiful supply of the home
market, and to the increase of tillage, than perhaps any
other law in the statute book
culture, by repealing several absurd statutes for the pro¬
motion of tillage, and against the enlargement of farms.
It deserves to he remarked, that the check given to cul-Origin of
tivation by the injudicious imposition of heavy duties onthepoor-
the exportation of corn, and still more, the rapid depre-^aws*
ciation of money in the reign of Elizabeth, caused an as¬
tonishing rise in the price of commodities. A contempo-
rr- c it TTT  • •'"‘““•“"ft p*inuiuuiLies, /iconiempo-
ilie act of Henry VI. regulating the export prices of rary author, quoted by Mr Hume, estimates this rise in
rn WHS n era in Knt witVw-ui* arwr    • „ 1 rm 1
corn was again renewed, but without any variation of the
rates, in the reign of Philip and Mary. As the coin, how¬
ever, had in the interi u been greatly degraded, no ex-
the twenty or thirty years previous to 1581, at no less
than fifty per cent. Wages not having increased in pro¬
portion, pauperism became very general; and this cireum-
portation could now take place, until prices had really stance, combined with the excessively high prices of 1596
fallen much below the level of 1436. This act, like that 1597, and 1598, resulting from the bad harvests of those7
against engrossing, was no doubt framed in the view of years, occasioned the enactment of the famous statute of
reducing the rising money price of corn, and of quieting 1601, which has served as a basis to the whole of the
the discontent then prevalent among the labouring classes; present English system for supporting and managing the
although, by shackling and discouraging cultivation, its real poor.1
effects must have been extremely different. No alteration was made in the duties payable on the
1 The contemporary author quoted by Mr Hume {Hist, of England, vol. v. p. 485), and by Sir F. M. Eden {State of the Poor, vol. i.
p-119), says, that in 1581 it required L 200 to keep as good a house as might have been kept sixteen years before for 200 merks,
I or L.133. 6s. 8d—“ Cannot you remember,” says he, “ that within these thirty years I could, in this town, buy the best pig or
goose I could lay my hands on for 4d., which now costeth 12d., a good capon for 3d. or 4d., a chicken for Id., a hen for 2d., &c. Now
a payre of shooes costs 12d.; yet in my time I have bought a better for 6d.” Latimer, in his sermons, ascribes this increase of price
to landlords raising their rents. “ Notwithstanding,” says he, “ God doth send us plentifully the fruits of the earth mercifully, ac¬
cording to our desertes, these rich men causeth such dearth, that poore men, which live of their labour, cannot with the sweat of
their face have a living, all kinde of victuals is so dear.” • A variety of passages to the same import may be found in Other contem¬
porary authors, quoted by Sir F. M. Eden, and by Mr Smith in his Memoirs of Wool.
This extraordinary advance of prices, caused partly by the degradation of the coin, hut more by the fail in the real value of the
precious metals, as it very far exceeded the rate at which capital, and consequently the demand for labour, was then increasing, must, •
even supposing wages had been left to find their own level, and to be adjusted on the principles of fair competition, have been at¬
tended by a very great deterioration in the circumstances of the labouring classes. But positive enactments were framed to pre¬
vent the increase of wages; so that, while the prices of all sorts of commodities were advancing with unprecedented rapidity, the
sums paid the labourers were violently kept down to near their former level.
Ry the statute 11th Henry VII. c. 22, regulating the wages of labour, a common labourer was allowed 4d. per diem, from Easter
to Michaelmas; and, taking "the average prices of wheat, rye, and barley at that period at 6s. 8d., 4s., and 3s. per quarter respective¬
ly, it will follow that a labourer who had 4d. a day, could earn a quarter of wheat by twenty days’ labour, a quarter of rye by twelve
ays labour, and a quarter of barley by nine days’ labour.
Rut in the latter part of the reign of Queen Elizabeth, the labourer’s situation was very different. The prices of corn may he sup¬
posed to have nearly corresponded with the rates at which exportation was allowed by' statute 35th Eliz. c. 7, that is, wheat probably
averaged 20s. a quarter, rye 13s. 4d., and barley 12s. It appears, however, from the determination of the justices of the Last Hiding
o Yorkshire, in the same year, that the wages of a common labourer, without meat or drink, were limited to Jive pence a day, from
, e 1st March to the Feast of All Saints. Consequently, a common labourer could not, in the latter part of the reign of Queen Eliza-
tlv \eani a (luarter of wheat by less than 48 days’ labour, a quarter of rye in less than 32 days, nor a quarter of barley in less
au 28| days. If barley was his common sustenance, he could have earned three times as much in 1495 as in 1593, of rye 2| as
336
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
nortation were taken off, and an ad valorem duty of nineHi^U
per cent, imposed in their stead. The exportation price the
of wheat was at the same time extended to 48s. per quar- h *
ter, chargeable with a duty of 5s. 4d. and other grain in
^ This act, however, by permitting the importation offo-Stat
reign grain on paying a moderate duty, not being reckoned1^
History of exportation of corn, during the pacific reign of James L;
the Corn but the prices at which exportation might take place were,
Laws. after some trifling alteration in 1604, fixed in 16~3 at 116
''“T''*-'' high rate of 32s. the quarter for wheat, and of 16s. the
quarter for malt and barley. In this and the preceding
reigns, and for a considerable time afterwards, importa¬
tion continued unrestricted; and notwithstanding tie im- advantageous to the landholders, a more de-
provement of agriculture, the nat on was; par Dally depen- ~^ni]y taken, and in 1670 exporta-
dent for supplies of corn on the tiade w ith t * ■ icels were extended to 53s. 4d. per quarter for wheat,
round the Baltic, and others. _ip nf and other grain in proportion, while import duties, amount-
During tire agitation of the cm! wars, ?" t„ aTomplete prohibition, were imposed on foreign
England, intensely occupied in endeavouring ’ ,” t tiU the home price reached 53s. 4d., and between
or at least to restrict and modtfy, the oyal an homy, pa.d JJheat t^ ^ of gs_ wa3 exigib]e. But ^
no regard to the corn trade. But tl’ls ■ effects> laWi [hough extremely favourable to the agriculturists, by
not seem to have been attended v tl < y < i incfeed it had been framed, did not perfectly corre-
The high prices of that turbulent period if they weie not whom a of fh/ ^
altogether caused by a fall in ^value o ^ the continuanCe of impolitic duties on exportation,
previously to the recoinage undei C ’ - d h prohibition 0f importation was rendereu to a cer-
Uch clipped and debased, were most probab y owing to ana tM pro n l ^ ^ any
the interruptions thrown in the way o agrum ^ method for ascertaining prices. Groundless com-
Statute of On the restoration of Ohailes IT ^ the game ]aints 0f the decay of agriculture, and of the evils of fo-
SiXSf’aSr'cfnllS on which duties wmre pay- ^
portation. aMe, whenever the price c„eck importation from abroad,Ay securing correct re-
law laid a dutV of 20s. on every quarter of wheat export- tu™? °f *e a period uo less memorable insl
ed, and on other grain in proportion, it ^y amoun history 0f Great Bri-a
to a prohibition; and neither the agncu n is o bounty on the exportation of corn wtis granted
revenue derived any advantage from the exten tojduch tarn. ^ ^bounty oi^t^e ^.P ^ ^ 0range cou]d^ot op.
exportation was permitted, althoug i o i mus ‘ rushes of the landed interest, who then consti-
„Ui..   i a »• b,g> ib"« * ~i»"*« “• si ..«.[
’^■‘ttztsssssgtsss i^xsx&Z'sziiias
tainly raise the prices of the year m which it was framed,
and this high price, as far as it was not caused by a defi¬
ciency in the crop, or by any fluctuation in the value of
the coin, was unquestionably owing, not to the duties on
exportation, but to the exorbitancy of those on importa¬
tion, which had really secured a monopoly of the home
market to the agriculturists.
This view of the matter appears to have been soon after
taken by parliament; for in 1663 the high duties on im-
raised him to a throne, and on whose assistance he was
chiefly to depend in prosecuting his war against France.
The bounty payable under the act 1st William and Mary,
cap. 12, amounted to 5s. for every quarter of wheat ex¬
ported, while the price continued at or below 48s.; 2s. 6d.
for every quarter of barley or malt, while their pi ice did
not exceed 24s.; and 3s. 6d. for every quarter of rye,
when its price did not exceed 32s.
A still more essential advantage was shortly after con-
much, and of wheat 2§. As far, therefore, as the necessaries of life were concerned, the situation of the labourer was not one half so
advantageous in 1593 as it had been in 1495. (Edinburgh Review, vol. xxii. p. 195.) . . . ., • f inhnnr was the real
This extraordinary rise in the price of provisions being unattended by any proportional rise in the p . , ’ d
cause of the institution of poor-rates. In the long interval between 1379 and 1539, it does not appear t a. > c modifies
directly referring to the maintenance of vagrants or beggars. At the latter era, however when the pnees of all ^rts of commod
began suddenly to rise, pauperism became very prevalent, and engaged a considerable portion of the attention ^ “rewhich
The following extract from Dr Burn’s Justice of Peace (vol- iii. p 6U8), shows m a very distinct manne .. . I tiiemSelves
the compulsory maintenance was established in EnglandBy 22d Henry VIII. c. 12, the justices were todistnbme themself
into several divisions; within which divisions respectively they might license persons to beg. By 27th Henry L. • ,
hundreds, towns corporate, parishes, or hamlets, were required to sustain the poor with such charUabk voluntary a ™ •> ., .
them might, of necessity, be compelled to go openly in begging, on pain that every person making default shou Sundays,
lings a month. And the churchwardens, or other substantial inhabitants, were to make collections for them , 1;h ral and
and otherwise by their discretions. And the minister was to take all opportunities to stir up and exhort the peop e
bountiful. By the 1st Edward VI. c. 3, houses were to be provided for them by the devotion of good people, and ina u t •
 QiLr ir, cvlinrt 16o onr 1 shioners to a liberal contribution, ny w
at work; and the minister, after the gospel every Sunday, was specially to exhort the parishioners to a liberal conti
5th and 6th Edward VI. c. 2, the collectors of the poor, on a certain Sunday in every year, immediately alter divim. “— •---7 „
take down in writing what every person was willing to give weekly, for the ensuing year; and it any should be obstma , ^
•■der for the reformation thereof. By tne oui r.nzaoeui, c- o, 11 ne scuou out against lug ^ —  'n trendV
certify the same to the justices in sessions, and bind him over to appear there; and the justices at the said sessKMis were agai g
to move and persuade him ; and, finally, if he would not be persuaded, then they were to assess him in what they tlioug 1 “
towards the relief of the poor; and, in case of refusal, were to commit him till paid. By 14 th Elizabeth, c. 5, power was S1V ct_
Justices to lay a general assessment; and this hath continued ever since; for the statute of the 43d Elizabeth, c. 2, is only a
ing of former provisions, with some additional alterations.” , mi ... ,.n more
Tn a tract published in 1611, the author dwells with great earnestness on the extreme dearth of victuals. They were giov ^
dear in price, he affirms, in the six years foregoing, than in the twenty years before—See Memoirs of Wool, vol. i- p- 128.
in the value of gold and silver, caused by the discovery of the American mines, seems to have ceased about 1630 or 1640.
j offerred on agriculture, by the act 11th and 12th William
Sie (
La
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
337
III. cap. 20, which repealed all previous duties on the ex
portation of corn, and prevented the operation of the
bounty from being in the slightest degree counteracted.
No alteration having been made in the prices and du¬
ties regulating importation, as fixed in 1670, and these
duties being rigorously exacted, the act repealing the
duties on exportation completed the restrictive system.
Every part of this complex machine was now in operation ;
and while no foreigner was allowed to contend with the
home growers, the liberality of the state enabled them to
contend with foreigners, even when the price of corn in Great
Britain was considerably higher than its price abroad!
The policy adopted in Scotland respecting the trade in
corn was nearly the same as that of England. Previ¬
ously to 1663 the importation of corn into this kingdom
was permitted without limitation or duties (Dirom, p. 61);
but in that year it was loaded with an ad valorem duty of
about forty per cent.; while its free exportation was al¬
lowed, on payment of a trifling duty, until the prices ex¬
ceeded those mentioned below.1 This duty was after¬
wards relinquished, and a bounty granted by the statute
William, Par. 1, cap. 32. At length, by the treaty of
union, the corn laws of both kingdoms were incorporated,
and it was settled that “ the allowances, encouragements,
and drawbacks, prohibitions, restrictions, and regulations
of trade, and the customs and duties on import and ex¬
port, settled in England w7hen the union commences, shall,
from and after the union, take place throughout the whole
united kingdom." Oats not having been mentioned in
the English statute granting the bounty, it was declared,
that whenever oats did not exceed the price of 15s. ster¬
ling per quarter, there should be paid a bounty of 2s. 6d.
for every quarter of oatmeal exported,
ki f Whatever may have been the ultimate consequences of
thebt yt]ie bounty act, there can be no doubt that it was framed
in the view of enhancing the value of corn. In the pre¬
amble to this celebrated statute, it is stated “ that the
exportation of corn and grain into foreign parts, when the
price thereof is at a low rale in this kingdom, hath been a
great advantage, not only to the owners of land, but to
the trade of this kingdom in general.” It would indeed
be absurd to suppose that the landed interest should have
unanimously urged the adoption of a law, had it been ima¬
gined to have any tendency to lower the value of agricul¬
tural produce.
We shall afterwards endeavour to show that the bounty
had in fact no such tendency; but at present we shall only
offer a few observations explanatory of the fall in the price
of corn posterior to 1690, which has, as it appears to us,
without any sufficient reason, been ascribed to the bounty.
It is obvious that no certain conclusions can ever be
drawn as to whether the real value, that is, the expense
of producing a commodity, is diminished, from the fact of
its •money price having declined. Before forming any ac¬
curate conclusions as to a rise or fall in the real price of
commodities, from variations in their money price, it is es¬
sential to know, not only the state of the coin as to purity
and weight, but also whether the value of bullion be itself
stationary. A fall of money price may be as effectually
produced by a rise in the value of gold and silver, as by a
diminution of the cost of production; and the real price
of a commodity may be increasing at the very time its
money price is falling. To produce this effect it is only
necessary that the real price of bullion should increase
faster than the real price of the commodity with which it
is compared.
act.
That the real value of gold and silver rose in the early History of
part of last century, has been maintained by Dr Smith, 1116 Corn
apparently on pretty good grounds. As no remarkable im-
provements in agriculture were then made, either on the
continent or in England, the expense of producing corn an(j
may be reckoned to have remained nearly the same, or silver in
rather to have increased, as the increase of population, the early
however slow, would cause recourse to be had to inferiorPartoflast
soils. But during this period the money price of corn fe]l} century,
not only in this country, where a bounty was given on ex¬
portation, but in those continental kingdoms where ex¬
portation was prohibited. Conclusive evidence of this fact,
as far as regards France, will be found in the table of the
prices of wheat, at the Paris or llosoy market, annexed to
the work of Dupre de St Maur, entitled Essai sur les Mon-
noies, ou Reflexions sur le Rapport entre hArgent et les
Denre.es. Paris, 1746. And the table of the price of wheat
at Seville, from 1675 to 1764 inclusive, published in the
appendix to the Bullion Report, strongly confirms the rea¬
soning of Dr Smith, and shows that prices declined con¬
siderably in Spain in the first fifty years of last century.
The impulse imparted to this country by the revolution,
the abolition of all oppressive and arbitrary exactions, and
the number of intelligent and wealthy foreigners who
sought refuge in England from the persecution of intole¬
rant and bigoted governments, coupled with the revival of
trade and the establishment of the bank in 1694, caused
the extension of commerce, and a considerable accumu¬
lation of capital, subsequently to the treaty of Ryswick.
The wars of Queen Anne counteracted this progress; but
during the long and pacific administration of Sir Robert
Walpole, the increase of capital, and the improvement of
every species of industry, though not so great as they
afterwards became, continued uninterrupted. A rise in
the money price of labour in Great Britain during that in¬
terval is not therefore inconsistent with the fact of an ad¬
vance in the value of the precious metals, but, as Dr Smith
has stated, is a natural consequence of the improving state
of the country, and of the increasing demand for labour.
In France, which had been completely exhausted by the
ruinous enterprises of Louis XIV. and where, of course,
the demand for labour remained nearly stationary, wages
fell as the price of corn declined. ( Wealth of Nations,
i. 313.)
But whatever weight may be attached to these conclu- Stateof the
sions, respecting a general rise in the real value of gold coin in the
and silver in the early part of last century, there can be^^P °*
no question as to the fact of a rise having taken place hr jjj ara
tire value of the coin of Great Britain, in consequence of
the recoinage in the latter part of King William’s reign.
At that period silver constituted the English standard of
value, and to such an extent had the silver currency been
debased by clipping, filing, &c. that, in 1695, the common
price of silver bullion was 6s. 5d. per ounce, or Is. 3d.
above the mint price. A guinea then passed current for
about 30s., and the nominal exchange between London,
Holland, and Hamburg was rather more than twenty-five
per cent, against the first. ( Wealth of Nations, i. 304.) That
this degraded state of the coin raised the price of every
other commodity as well as bullion, might be concluded
for certain, although no direct evidence of the fact had
been transmitted to us. Mr Lowndes, however, in his Re¬
port on the state of the silver coin in 1695, mentions its
degradation as “ one great cause of the raising the price, not
only of all merchandises, but of every article necessary for
the sustenance of the common people, to their great grievance?
(Liverpool on Coin, p. 70.) And Mr Locke, in his answer
VOL. VII.
1 Wheat, L.12 Scots per boll; bear and barley, L.8 do.; oats and peas, 8 merks.
2 u
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
. t silver- and consequently the currency again became de-Hi
' of to Lowndes’ proposal for lowering the standard, c ran d. The deficiency of new silver com, caused by the til1
Corn this statement, and asserts, that the
Z^ofAVmrtsof ranged/ The deficiency of new silver coin, caused by the t|l
PnCe » / Trbm ') inducement to melt it down, was not immediately expe- O
excessively. (Idem.) induce ^ ,atter part 0f Queen Anne’s rein. ^ n;
,aws' , provisions and commodities had risen excessively. ( ^ riencccI. ^ut towards the latter part of Queen Anne’s reign,
The medium rise in the price of undepreciate b a want of silver, and a difficulty in making payments, were
coin, and of silver bullion, compared with the cli] p ‘ universally felt and complained of. As might have been
degraded coin, appears, from the statements o ‘ , expected," prices rose, and, from 1709 to 1717 both inclu-
Lowndes, to have rather exceeded thirty per ce . were much above the average of the eight preced-
it is of importance to remark, that, in I tvy, rue y j or of the following years. That this could not be an
which the new coin came into general circuia , 0f deficient crops, is evident from the fact of a con-
market price of corn, which ^ ptev.ous y been nsm^    
declined * to very mar the same extent. Tliatthis ft"
in some degree have been owing to luxuriant cr0Ps’
probable; but it is quite certain that greased value
{,f the circulating medium would of ‘'fjr
lowered the money price of corn, and of eveiy othei
siderable exportation, forced, no doubt, to a certain ex¬
tent, by the bounty having then taken place. The govern¬
ment did not indeed entertain any such opinion, but hav¬
ing wisely adopted the suggestion of Sir Isaac Newton,
ami reduced the mint value of the guinea, the melting and
hoarding of silver ceased, and prices, as in 1700, fell to
uiodity. wi,n oon- their former level.
Mr Charles Smith, Mr Malthus, and othe ^ Jn accounting for the low price of corn in the reigns of
tend that a bounty on the exportation ot c J688 George I. and George II., after allowing for the increased
lower its price, admit that the bounty ]d va]ue of the coin, the relaxation of the laws against fore-
had no such effect anterior to 1 ^0. - j -n . gtallers and engrossers must not be forgotten. Large ca-
have stimulated them to inquire whether ay ted> itals being engaged in the corn trade, extraordinary flue-
liar belonged to that year, they . „ffpCntUniiv brought tuations of price were avoided. The home demand was
that a fall of money prices may be as efiec > r nderea more steady and equal; while the perfect secu-
about by a rise in the value T.i/TeuTt’bis Sucipie ri.y of property, and the g,‘eater political influence at-
in the value of commodities. Had they l-ri tached to landed possessions, naturally attracted a more
-
^V:«orr.s7tbeVSmyitra,‘an event, ^bounty, by e-ndin,
ai I LI y   •IT
The bounty, by extending the foreign market, no doubt
contributed materially to the extension of cultivation, al¬
though, by forcing recourse to worse soils in order to ob¬
tain additional supplies of corn, it raised prices. In the
period from 1740 to 1751, the cheapest in last century,
the bounties paid on exportation amounted in all to
tions as io mu v,. - . . 17no
they would not have adduced the fall of prices in 1/00,
and subsequently, as any proof of flieir correctness.
We do not certainly mean to affirm that the whole rise
of price, from 1692 to 1698 inclusive, is to be ascribed to ^    ^
the depreciation of the currency. 4 he bounty, am , m a a'nd in r/49 alone they somewhat exceed-
still greater degree, bad seasons, contribute p L.324,000. The bounty, however, had by this time
this rise; and the fair inference is, that had thje^n n« j in operation permit the growers or ex-
bounty, prices would have fallen still lower a u porters to realise more than the common and ordinary
coinage. ^ „i,„o,r0 nrnfits of stock; and, therefore, had it never been granted,
In considering the effects of the bounty, it oug ) uantity 0f corn exported, and the home price (which
to be recollected that prices were gradually c a \ have been regulated by the expense necessary to
viously to its being granted. ■ rirnrbirp thP increased sunplv required by the bounty on
Fro7™ 1649 to 1658 the average price of the Winches- luld bofh havebeenre-
ter quarter of middling wheat was  • 6 g ducc![b We shall afterwards elucidate this principle at
   2 3 4 greater length; but it is of importance to remark how
  Jpac  1 18 41 much this forced exportation must have raised the real
The"boi!nty‘0,va‘s^given"wbiy 'th'e avowed" intention of price of corn, at the vary time when it is snpposed to have i
checking this fall, and it was in our ^P101^ Cba^ ^ BuTnotwithstanding the factitious stimulus thus givendW
lated to accomplish its object. But, whatever may na e . , ns wbich, in 1750, amounted toti/ei-
been its effects, it cannot surely.be assigned as the cause P ‘ ’ r q sorts ra,)idly diminished; andpW
of the fall of prices between 1700 anti 1746, seetng tba dSd, in the lalt ten.fi
that very fall began thirty years before it was gi ante , an b . J j( f George II. accompanied as it was by
that prices rose in the first ten years of its existence. yeais ot the reign or George i __ QVnprtatinn. 1
Perhaps part of the fall of o^the ^tTe IS
ly to 1649 may be justly ascribed to the proniou.on or u.e ^i:;:.;;;''''7‘,:er7h"pea°ce ot Paris in 1763, the progress
w™tewLt,u!,/d SupIctTS^d 1,‘raSes of commerce, by
as soon as iis exportation was put an end to; and of If f ^ *”d-. ^ mto the cotton ms-
course, some portion of the soil employed in leanng sheep m ro uc m' , b sudden increase of the po-
AlililliiiliVi' mint pric. of goU hod hooo rodoood by "'Thi'fdnibok of tho rosttictivo tyttom ooyq'Vf
King William, it was still rated too high as compared with reasoned as if this rise of price and the ces.a
See table of prices of wheat at Eton College, annexed to who> to tlie disgrace of his age and nation, was
' 2 Jennies were invented in by Richard Hargraves, weaver m
suffered to pass his days in obscurity and poverty.
s
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE,
339
vexportation bad been a consequence of the alteration of the
m corn laws in 1773. But it should be carefully observed
I [«• that this alteration was an avowed, and indeed a necessary
^'■^consequence of the previous rise. In 1765, .before any
suspension of the restrictive system had taken place, the
balance on the side of wheat exported amounted to only
77,000 quarters, and the home price in that and the two pre¬
ceding years rose to an unusual height. The general and
growing dissatisfaction at continuing the prohibition of im¬
portation under such circumstances, produced a suspen¬
sion of the high duties in 1766; and by temporary enact¬
ments, this suspension (accompanied occasionally with
of restrictions on exportation) was continued to 1773, when
a permanent act was framed under the auspices of Mr
Burke. By this act foreign wheat was allowed to be im¬
ported on paying a nominal duty of 6d. whenever the
home price reached 48s. a quarter; and the bounty and
exportation were together to cease when the price reach¬
ed 44s. This statute also permitted the importation of
corn at any price, in order to be again exported, duty free,
provided it was, in the mean time, lodged under the joint
locks of the king and the importer.
The prices, when exportation was to cease, seem to have
been fixed too low in this act; and, as Dr Smith has ob¬
served, there appears a good deal of impropriety in pro¬
hibiting exportation altogether at the precise prices at
which the bounty given to force it is withdrawn ; yet with
all these defects, the act of 1773 was a material improve¬
ment on the former system, and should not have been al¬
tered unless to render the trade perfectly free.
The idea that this law must, when enacted, have been
injurious to the farmers, seems altogether illusory. The
permission to import foreign grain, when the home prices
rose to a certain rate, certainly prevented their realizing
exorbitant profits at the expense of the other classes, and
prevented an unnatural proportion of the capital of the
country being turned towards agriculture. But as this
rate was fixed very considerably higher than the average
price in the reign of George II., it cannot be maintained
that it had any tendency to lower prices, which alone could
discourage agriculture; and in fact no such reduction took
place.
It is indeed true, that but for this act we should not
have imported so much foreign grain in the interval be¬
tween 1773 and 1791. This importation, however, was not
occasioned by the declining state of our agriculture, for
it is universally admitted that every department of rural
economy was more improved in that period than in the
whole course of the preceding century ; but arose entire¬
ly from a still more rapid increase of the manufacturing
population, and hence of the effective demand for corn.
By referring to the tables of exports and imports annex¬
ed to this article, it will be seen that, in 1772, the balance
on the side of wheat imported amounted to 18,515 quar¬
ters; and in 1773, 1774, and 1775, all years of great pros-History of
perity, this balance was very much increased. The loss, B16 Born
however, of a great part of our colonial possessions, and Taws,
the stagnation of commerce occasioned by the American
contest, diminished the consumption ; and this diminution
concurring with luxuriant harvests, the balance was high
on the side of exportation in 1778, 1779, and 1780. In
1783 and 1/84 the crop was unusually deficient, and con¬
siderable importations took place ; but in 1785, 1786, and
1787, the exports again exceeded the imports ; and it was
not till 1788, when the country had fully recovered from
the effects of the war, and when manufacturing improve¬
ments were carried on with extraordinary spirit, that the
imports permanently overbalanced the exports.
The growing wealth and commercial prosperity of the Increase of
country had thus, by increasing the population, and ena- produce
bling individuals to consume additional quantities of food, between
caused the home supplies to fall somewhat short of the de- anc*
mand; but it must not therefore be concluded that agri- ;
culture had not at the same time been very greatly ame¬
liorated. “ The average annual produce of wheat,” says
Mr Comber, “ at the beginning of the reign of George III.
was about 3,800,000 quarters, of which about 300,000
had been sent out of the kingdom, leaving about three
and a half millions for home consumption. In 1773, the
produce of wheat was stated to the House of Commons
to be 4,000,000 of quarters, of which the whole, and
above 100,000 imported, were consumed in the kingdom.
In 1796' the consumption was stated in the House of Com¬
mons, by Lord Hawkesbury, to be 500,000 quarters per
month, or six millions annually, of which about 180,000
were imported, showing an increased produce, in about
twenty years, of 1,820,000 quarters. It is evident, there¬
fore, not only that no defalcation of produce had taken
place in consequence of the cessation of exportation, as
has been too lightly assumed, from the occasional neces¬
sity of importation; but that it had increased with the
augmentation of our commerce and manufactures.” (Com¬
ber on National Subsistence, p. 180.)
These estimates are, no doubt, very loose and unsatis¬
factory, but the fact of a large increase of produce is un¬
questionable. In the Report of the House of Commons
on Waste Lands, drawn up in 1797, the number of acts
passed for inclosing, and the number of acres inclosed, in
the following reigns, are thus stated:
Number
of Acts.
Number
of Acres.
In Queen Anne’s reign 2 1,429
In George 1 16 17,660
In George II v 226 318,728
In George III. to 1797 1,532 2,804,1971
It deserves particular notice, that from 1771 to 1791,
both inclusive, the period when these great agricultural
1 ThefblWing is a statement of the Acts of Parliament passed for local improvements, commencing with 1785 and ending with
for roads and bridges 
for canals, harbours, &c  
For dividing, inclosing, and drain-
ping   
lor parochial and city improve¬
ments  
Totals  750
Total of
Eight
Years
ending
1792.
302
<J4
245
139
Total of
Eight
Years
ending
1S00.
341
132
589
G2
1124
Total of
Eight
Years
ending
1S08.
419
127
757
141
1444
1810.
52
9
114
25
200
58
15
134
17
224
1812.
1813.
53
13
123
24
213
47
7
117
20
191
1814.
53
G
119
21
199
1815.
44
10
82
26
162
34
4
49
22
109
Total of
Seven
Years
ending
1816.
341
64
738
1298
n CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
° . . „ -j tLorA was no cent.: and the price of wheat in these years being gene-Hfe
History of improvements were principally carried on, mere ^ from 66s> t0 75s., a small importation only took place, the?
the Corn rise of prices. the From autumn 1808 to spring 1814, the depreciation of our L
Laws. The landholders, however, could not but cons currency was rapid beyond all former example ; and seve-^
liberty of importation granted by the act °t 1' J , cr0^s in tiiat interval being likewise deficient, the
Statute of rious t0 their interests, inasmuch as it prevente P money price of corn, influenced by both causes, rose to a
from rising with the increased demand. A clamou , ^ heio-ht. The following is a statement of the
n>
1791
from rising with the increasea aemanu. ^ . Surnrising height. The following is a statement of the
fore, was raised against that law; and, in additi money or paper price, and the bullion price of corn, from
interested feeling a dread of becommgl^ ^ Jh inclusive:_
dent on foreigners for supplies of corn operate
and produced a pretty general acquiescence in the act °r
1791, by which the price, when importation could .
place at the low duty of 6d. was raised » .
Paper Price per Quarter.
1809   95s. 7d.
1810  106s.
1811   94s. 6d.
1812  125s. 6d.
1813  108s. 9d.
1814   74s.
Bullion Price per Quarter.
1809  81s.
1810  88s. 6d.
1811  74s.
1812  98s. 6d.
1813  73s.
1814  56s. 6d.
creasing
the duties
E above 50s. a mike duly of 2s. 6d and under 50 a
prohibitory duty of 24s. 3d., were exigible. The bounty
continued as before, and exportation without bounty was
allowed to 46s. It was also enacted that fo/e'gn wheat
might be imported, stored under the king s oc ^ f 18o9 and 1810 were much below an ave-
exported free of duty; but ,f so d or ^c^ptton The crop ^ ^ of t]iese years u a good dell
in the kingdom, it became l'»We *o ,, yh hijher than the importation price fixed by the act of 1804.
2s. 6d. in addition to the ordinary duties payable ^;s excess is be ascribed partly to that law, and part-
time of sale. . . . . ri.ttipo lv to the extraordinary difficulties then thrown in the way
Mr Comber has justly ^^^^"JXlfiknt crojs o^mporting grain. At that time no vessel could be loacf-
on the warehousing of foreign corn , b P{i in anv continental port for England, without purchas-
of 1795 and 1797, followed as they were by a ^eat me ed in ^“/freight and instance were at least
of prices, superseded these provisions and even caused the £g a ^eiise and^ e | The same ca„SM
granting of high bounties on importation CedTn 1812: but in the autumn of 1813 the destruc
. II? 1797 ^he BanlJ oi England was^resnc P tion of Napoleon’s anti-commercial system having increas- I
mg in specie, and the conseque , ^ , effcacv ed the facilities of importation, a large quantity of corn was |
counts gave a fresh stimulus to ag icultu, ^ ^e^efficacy ed^ttm ac^ . and in 18f4 L bullion price was
of which was most P^rfufly. as t H y tj g ‘educed below the point at which importation was allowed. :
city and high prices of 1800 and 1801. inese may ^ faU ^ ice> a COmmittee of the House of
deed be said to have inspired all c a®se^’ d 1803 & ld Commons had been appointed to inquire into the state of
cultural mania ; and a^XvatTon of the poor sdls which die laws affecting the corn trade ; aid their report (dated
not permit the profitable cultivatio p ^ i ith Mav ISIS') recommended a very great extension of
had been taken into tillage during the scarcity a new co n 11th May wasformerly allowable,
law was loudly called for by the farmers, and passed ^ ^ ‘m ation ,Pee 0fdu,ycould take place. The
tn and exportation had been regulated by the particular this committee proposed to alter *e 18M. ^ ■»
t twelve part of 1814, it became obvious, on comparing otir fornier J
maritime districts, and in Scotland by the aver- prices with those of ‘g Lo''“e,nt’ d be eon'."S
age of the four maritime districts. The averages, as at pro- at,on of the existing law ‘hl“ ^ ‘ 0r tads,
sent were taken at four periods in the year, and the ports siderably increased ; that a good deal ot the poor mnus,
were Ser open or sHuffor nor less than three mo'nths. which the recent high prices had forced mto cnillvanon.
This method of ascertaining prices was, however, modi- would have to be thrown “j10 ,
lied in the following season, and it was then fixed that ,m- wou d be materially reduced. 1 hese “"se8uen“s “ a mf
portation both in England and Scotland should be regu- ed the landlords and by
Sated by the average price of the whole twelve maritime the session of 1814 a series of resolutio .- J
flistriets the House of Commons, declaring that it was expedient
To prohibit the importation of the necessaries of life to repeal the bounty; to permit the free expdrtation^
into a country where the supply is short of the demand, corn, whatever might be the hom^ Puc ’ , j Port.
till prices rise to a certain height, has an obvious ten- a graduated sc^le of duties on foreign . ice WPS at
dency to raise them still higher. In 1805 the crop was ed. 1 bus, wheat imported when the l o . P at ^
very considerably deficient, and the average price of that or under 64s. was to pay a dutJ , home
year was about 22s. above the price at which importa- under 65s. a duty of ~3s.; and so on
tion was allowed by the act of 1804. The depreciation price reached 86s. when the duty was re u •>
of paper compared with bullion, being at that time about at which it became stationary. torn imp
four per cent., the high price must have been owing to the the British colonies in Ixorth America was PJ ^
new corn law preventing importation till the home price half the above duties. As soon as t ies
was high, and then cramping mercantile operations ; and were agreed to, two bills founded on tlie”V h
to the war rendering the cost of importation unusual- lating the importation of foreign corn, and a
ly great. In 1806, 1807, and 1808, the depreciation of pealing the bounty, and permitting unrestnete p ^
paper, compared with bullion, continued at nearly four per tion, were introduced. Very little attention was p
on impor¬
tation.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
y of the last of these bills ; but that which imposed fresh du-
Rep; | on
irn ties on importation encountered a very keen opposition.
*• The manufacturers, and every class not directly support-
ed by agriculture, stigmatized it as an unjustifiable attempt
to keep up the price of food, and to secure excessive
rents and large profits to landlords and farmers, at the
expense of the consumers. Meetings were generally held,
and resolutions entered into strongly expressive of this
sentiment, and dwelling on the fatal consequences that a
continuance of high prices would have on our manufac¬
tures, in a season of peace, when we could no longer mo¬
nopolize the commerce of the world. This opposition,
coupled with the indecision of ministers, and perhaps, too,
with an expectation, on the part of some of the landlords,
that prices would speedily rise, without any legislative
interference, caused the miscarriage of this bill. The
other was passed into a law.
Committees of both houses of parliament were appointed
the dti in 1814) to examine evidence and to report on the state of
tradrid t]ie corn trade; and a great number of the most eminent
Pw3fe‘ agriculturists were in consequence examined. The wit-
11 nesses were unanimous in this on!}', that the protecting
prices fixed by the act of 1804 were insufficient to enable
the farmers to make good the engagements into which they
had subsequently entered, and to continue the cultivation
of the inferior lands lately brought under tillage. Some of
them thought 120s. ought to be fixed as the limit when
wheat might be imported free of duty ; others varied from
90s. to 100s.; others from 80s. to 90s.; and a few from 70s.
to 80s. The general opinion, however, seemed to be that
80s. would answer; and, as prices continued to decline, a
set of resolutions, founded on this assumption, were sub¬
mitted to the House of Commons by Mr Robinson (now
Lord Goderich), and having been agreed to, a bill found¬
ed on them was, after a very violent opposition, carried in
both houses by immense majorities, and finally passed into
a law (55th George 111. c. 26).
Hist of The agriculturists confidently expected that this act
.com/s would immediately raise prices, and render them steady
15.at about 80s. But, for reasons which will be afterwards
stated, these expectations were entirely disappointed , and
there has been a more ruinous fluctuation of prices since
1815, when it was passed, than in any previous period of
our recent history. In 1821, when prices had sunk very
low, a committee of the House of Commons was appoint¬
ed to inquire into the causes of the depressed state of
agriculture, and to report their observations thereupon.
Ihis committee, after examining a number of witnesses,
drew up a report, which, though not free from error, is a
very valuable document. It contains a forcible exposition
of the pernicious influence of the law of 1815, of which it
suggested several important modifications. These, how¬
ever, were not adopted ; and as the low prices and conse¬
quent distress of the agriculturists continued, the subject
was brought under the consideration of parliament in the
following year. After a good deal of discussion, a new
act was then passed (3d Geo. IV. cap. 60), which enact¬
ed, that, after prices had risen to the limit of free impor¬
tation fixed by the act of 1815, that act was to cease, and
the new statute to come into operation. This statute
lowered the prices fixed by the act of 1815, at which im¬
portation could take place for home consumption, to the
following sums, viz.
For Corn not of the
British Possessions
in North America.
]f^eat 70s. per quarter
^ye) peas, and beans..46s.
parley, bear, or big...35s.
   ...25s.
For Corn of the British
Possessions in North
America.
59s. per quarter.
39s.
30s.
20s.
341
But in order to prevent any violent oscillation of prices History of
from a large supply of grain being suddenly thrown upon the Corn
the market, it was enacted, that a duty of 17s. a quarter t Laws,
should be laid on all wheat imported from foreign coun- V—
tries during the first three months after the opening of
the ports if the price was between 70s. and 80s. a quarter,
and of 12s. afterwards; and if the price was between 80s.
and 85s. the duty was to be 10s. during the first three
months, and 5s. afterwards; and if the price should ex¬
ceed 85s. the duty was to be constant at Is.; and propor¬
tionally for other sorts of grain.
This act, by preventing importation until the home
price rose to 70s. and then loading the quantities import¬
ed between that limit and the limit of 85s. with heavy
duties, was certainly more favourable to the view's of the
agriculturists than the act of 1815. But, unluckily for
them, no species of corn except barley was sufficiently
high while this act existed to bring it into operation.
In 1825, the first approach was made to a better sys¬
tem, by permitting the importation of wheat from British
North America, without reference to the price at home,
on payment of a duty of 5s. a quarter. But the act for
this purpose was passed with difficulty, and was limited to
one year’s duration.
Owing to the drought which prevailed during the sum¬
mer of 1826, there was every prospect that there would
be a great deficiency in the crops of that year; and in
order to prevent the disastrous consequences that might
have taken place had importation been prevented until
the season was too far advanced for bringing supplies from
the great corn markets in the north of Europe, his ma¬
jesty was authorized to admit 500,000 quarters of foreign
wheat, on payment of such duties as the order in council
for its importation should declare. And when it was
ascertained that the crops of oats, peas, &c. were greatly
below an average, ministers issued an order in council, on
their own responsibility, on the 1st of September, autho¬
rizing the immediate importation of oats on payment of a
duty of 2s. 6d. a boll, and of rye, peas, and beans, on pay¬
ment of a duty of 3s. 6d. a quarter. A considerable
quantity of oats was imported under this order, the timely
appearance of which had no doubt a considerable effect in
mitigating the pernicious consequences arising from the
deficiency of that species of grain. Ministers obtained an
indemnity for this order in the subsequent meeting of par¬
liament.
Nothing could more strikingly evince the impolicy of
the acts of 1815 and 1822 than the necessity under which
the legislature and government had been placed of pass¬
ing the temporary acts and issuing the orders alluded to.
The more intelligent portion of the agriculturists began at
length to perceive that the corn laws were not really cal¬
culated to produce the advantages they had anticipated;
and a conviction that increased facilities should be given
to importation became general throughout the country.
I he same conviction made considerable progress in the
House of Commons; so much so, that several members
who supported the measures adopted in 1815 and 1822
expressed themselves satisfied that the principle of ex¬
clusion had been carried too far, and that a more liberal
system should be adopted. Ministers having participat¬
ed in these sentiments, Mr Canning moved a series of re¬
solutions, as the foundation of a new corn law, on the 1st
of March 1827. These resolutions bore that foreign corn
might be imported, at all times, free of duty, for ware¬
housing ; and that it should always be admissible for
home consumption on payment of certain duties. Thus,
in the instance of wheat, it was resolved that, when the
home price was at or above 70s. a quarter, the duty should
be a fixed one of is. a quarter ; and that for every shilling
342
History of that the price fell below 70s. a duty of 2s- ^ '™-
the Com Dose(i. s„ that, when the price was at « »., the duty on
importation was to be 2s.; when at 68s. the duty was to
be 4s. and so on
Laws.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
or any part of each integral shilling, by
which such price shall be under 32s.
such duty shall be increased by Is. Gd.
Oats—25s. and under 26s. the quarter.. ....... ±0
And in respect of every integral shilling
by which such price shall be above 25s.
such duty shall be decreased by Is. Gd.
until such price shall be 31s.
At or above 31s. the quarter  0
Law of
1828, 9
Geo. IV.
cap. 60.
I De 6S. ; wneu ai owe. fwv.
The limit at which the constant duty
of is a quarter was to take place in the case of barley
was originally fixed at 37s.; but it was subsequently raised
to 40s. ° the duty increasing by Is. Gd. for eve,7 b
which the price fell below that limit. 1 ie mi c
the constant duty of Is. a quarter was to take pUwe -the
ease of oats was originally fixed at 28s., _
sequently raised to 33s, the duty "mreasm^ at the ja ^
of Is. a quarter for every shilling that the pn
that limit. The duty on colon,al wheat was fixed at Gd
the quarter when the was’con-
r«an?at 5sP tL duties on other descript,ons ot colon al
stant ac Th resolutions were agreed to by
aTarJmaiorhy; and a bill founded on them was subse-
oueiitlv cairied7through the House of Commons. Owing,
? m the chano-e of ministers which took place i
ftT nTer’im veml pee^s originally favourable to the In ,
and some even who Listed in its preparation, saw reason
ft become amongst its most violent opponents ; a clause
moved by the Duke of Wellington interd.ctmg a 1 mjpo-
tation until the home price exceeded 66s. ha» n0 been
carried in the Lords, ministers gave up the bill, justly
considering that such a clause was entirely subversive of
itSArnewPlet of resolutions with respect to the corn trade
were brought forward in 1828 by Mr Charles Grant. I hey
were founded upon the same principles as those which had
been rejected during the previous session. But the duty
was nofmade to vary equally, as in Mr Canning resolu-
tions with every equal variation of price; it being 18s.
8d. when the home price was 67s. the imperial quai ter,
and 10s. 8d. only when it was 70s.; a diffeience of _3s. in
the price making a difference of no less than 8s. m the
duty The point when the fixed duty of Is. was to com¬
mence was fixed at 73s. a quarter ^re subJ?;" tabl,®
of the duties imposed by the act founded on Mr Giant s
resolutions (9 Geo. IV. cap. 60), by which the corn trade
is at present regulated.
Imported from a Foreign Country, viz.
Wheat viz. whenever such price shall be
0 10
Hi
3 ^ v
0 15 6
0 1
0 16
2 6
62s. and under 63s. per quarter.
63s.
64s.
65s.
66s.
67s.
68s.
69s.
70s.
71s.
72s.
At or
64s.
65s.
66s.
67s.
68s.
69s.
70s.
71s.
72s.
73s
£1
1
1
1
1
0
0
0
0
0
, 0
above 73s  ?
4
3
2
1
0
18
16
13
10
6
2
1
5
Under 62s. and not under 61s. the quarter,
And in respect of each integral shilling,
or any part of each integral shilling, by
which such price shall be under 61s.
such duty shall be increased by Is.
Barley—33s. and under 34s. the quarter......... 0 12
And in respect of every integral shilling
by which such price sliall be above 33s.
such duty shall be decreased by Is. 6d.
until such price shall be 41s.
-At or above 41s. the quarter  0 1
Under 33s. and not under 32s. the quarter... 0 13
And in respect of each integral shilling,
Under 25s. and not under 24s. the quarter
And in respect of each integral shilling,
or any part of each integral shilling, by
which such price shall be under 24s.
such duty shall be increased by Is. 6d.
Oatmeal—For every quantity of 181 lbs. and a
half, a duty equal in amount to the duty pay¬
able on a quarter ot oats.
Maize, or Indian corn, buck wheat, beat oi
big—For every quarter a duty equal in amount
to^the duty payable on a quarter ot barley.
Rye, peas, and beans—36s. and under 37s. the
1 And in respect of every integral shilling
bv which such price shall be above 36s.
such duty shall be decreased by Is. 6d.
until such price shall be 46s.
At or above 46s. the quarter 
Under 36s. and not under 35s. the quaiter...
And in respect of each integral shilling, or
any part of each integral shilling, by
which such price shall be under 35s.
such duty shall be increased 1s. 6d..
W heat-meal and flour—For every barrel, being
196 lbs. a duty equal in amount to the duty
payable on 38 gallons and a halt of wheat.
Produce of, and imported from, any British Possession in
North America, or elsewhere out of Europe, viz,
TO
Barley—The quarter  • • •■ ••• • • • •
Until the price of British barley he 34s. the
quarter.
At or above 34s. the quarter 
Oats—The quarter      •••••••'••''P'
Until the price of British oats be 25s. the
quarter. •
At or above 25s. the quarter 
Wheat—The quarter.   
Until the price of British wheat be 67s. the
quarter.
At or above 67s. the quarter 
Maize, or Indian corn, buck wheat, bear or
big—For every quarter a duty equal in amount
to the duty payable on a quarter of barley.
Oatmeal—For every quantity of 181 lbs. and
a half, a duty equal in amount to the duty
payable on a quarter of oats.
Rye, peas, or beans—1 he quarter   
Until the price of British rye, peas, or beans
shall be 41s.
At or above 41s. the quarter ••••:•••
Wheat meal and flour—For every barrel, being
196 lbs. a duty equal in amount to the duty
payable on 38 gallons and a half of wheat.
The prices which govern the duties and regulations m
this act are ascertained from the sales of comm mosU
the principal towns ot Enghmd. Flic dea u ‘ urns
under a penalty for each omission, to make w J
of these sales to the corn inspectors resident n the «
ferent towns, who report them to the comptioiler ot
0 0 6
0 0 6
His
the
3.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
343
of
Iris!
laws
returns at London. The latter deduces from them a
o-eneral average price, which is weekly published in the
Gazette. Attempts have sometimes been made to falsify
the average, by making reports of fictitious sales ; but it
is generally believed that the prices as reported have cor¬
responded very closely with the real prices at the time.
Besides the objections which, it will be immediately
shown, may be made to all protecting duties, from their
tendency to force up average prices, and to render expor¬
tation in abundant years impossible, the duty imposed
by the 9th Geo. IV. cap. 60, is liable to some which may
be looked upon as peculiar to itself. From the way in
which it is graduated, it introduces a new element of un¬
certainty into every transaction connected with the corn
trade, producing a disinclination on the part of the mer¬
chant to import, and of the foreigner to raise corn for our
markets. Suppose a merchant commissions a cargo of
wheat when the price is at 71s. a quarter, in the event of
the price declining only 3s. or to 68s., the duty will rbe
from 6s. 8d, to 16s. 8d.; and if the merchant brings the
grain to market he will realise 13s. a quarter less than he
expected, and 10s. less than he would have done had there
been no duty, or the duty been constant!
It may perhaps be said, that if, on the one hand, the
present scale of duties be injurious to the merchant when
prices are falling, and when importation is consequently
either unnecessary, or of less advantage, it is, on the other
hand, equally advantageous to him, when prices are rising,
and when the public interests require that importation
should be encouraged ; but the prices in the view of the
merchant when he gives an order are usually such as he
supposes will yield a fair profit; and if they rise, this rise
would, supposing the duty to be constant, yield such an
extra profit as would of itself encourage him to increase
his importations to the utmost. If it were possible to de¬
vise a system that would diminish the losses of the mer¬
chants engaged in unfavourable speculations, by making
a proportional deduction from the extraordinary gains
of those whose speculations turn out to be unusually suc¬
cessful, something perhaps might be found to say in its
favour. But the system we have been considering pro¬
ceeds upon quite opposite principles ; its effect is not to
diminish risks, but to increase them ; it adds to the loss
resulting from an unsuccessful, and to the profit resulting
from a successful speculation !
It would therefore seem, that if a duty be imposed, one
that is constant is preferable to one that fluctuates. When
the duty is constant, all classes, farmers as well as mer¬
chants, are aware of its amount, and can previously cal¬
culate the extent of its influence. But the effect of a duty
that fluctuates with the fluctuations of prices can never
be appreciated beforehand. Its magnitude depends on
contingent and accidental circumstances, and it must
therefore of necessity prejudice the interests of the farmer
as well as of the corn-dealer.
The policy on which the corn trade of Ireland was con¬
ducted during the last century, was not materially differ¬
ent in its principles from that followed in Great Britain.
In 1707, the Irish parliament granted, by a statute framed
in imitation of the English act of 1689, a bounty of Is. 6d.
per quarter on every quarter of wheat exported when the
price was at or under 14s.; of Is. on the quarter of barley,
bear, or big, when at or under 10s.; and of Is.'on the
quarter of oats when at or under 9s. This act, however,
did not by any means place the Irish agriculturists on the
same footing with those of Great Britain. The bounty History of
scarcely exceeded one fourth part of what had been grant- tbe Corn
ed in this country; and Mr Newenham has shown, that.
the prices, when it became payable, were fixed much below ~
the average rate at the time. (Natural and Political
Circumstances of Ireland, p. 124.)
Though we are very far from imagining that Ireland
lost any thing by this different treatment, it shows the
spirit which influenced the English government in its
conduct towards that country. If bounties were really
beneficial, as they were then supposed to be, Ireland had a
right to every advantage that could be derived from them.
We had just succeeded in putting a stop to her rising pro¬
gress in the woollen manufacture; and if the government
of England, and its dependents in the Irish parliament,
had not been actuated by a mean and illiberal jealousy of
the advancement of Irish agriculture, as well as of Irish
manufactures, the same encouragements to cultivation
would doubtless have been held forth in both countries.
The bounty continued to be regulated by the act of
1707 till 1755, when its mode of payment was changed,
but the amount remained nearly the same. In the reign
of George III., however,, a different policy was adopted,
and several consecutive laws (5th Geo. III. c. 19, 13th
and 14th Ged. III. C. 11, 19th and 20th Geo. III. c. 17)
were enacted, by which the bounties were greatly en¬
larged. At last, in 1784, the celebrated statute, 23d andBountv
24th Geo. III. c. 19, was passed, by which a bounty of act of
3s. 4d. was granted on every barrel of wheat weighing f?84-
twenty stone exported when the home price was at or
under 27s.; of Is. 7d. on the barrel of barley, bear, and
big, weighing sixteen stone, when at or under 13s. 6d.,
and of Is. 5d. on the barrel of oats, weighing fourteen
stone, when at or under 10s. These high bounties, coupled
with the prohibitory duties imposed at the same time on
importation, amounting to 10s. the barrel on wheat when
the home price was at or under 30s., on barley 10s. when
at or under 14s. 6d., and on oats 5s. when at or under 11s.,
gave an extraordinary stimulus to cultivation, and soon
caused a very great increase of tillage, and of the exports
of corn from Ireland.
It is extremely doubtful, however, notwithstanding the Effects of
encomiums which have been lavished on the act of 1784 the boun-
by Mr NeWenham and others, whether this increase of1? act °f
tillage has not been really prejudicial. The nature of the G84.
soil, and the humidity of" the climate, render Ireland
much better fitted for pasture than for cropping. Mr
Young, certainly a very competent judge of such matters,
asserts that wheat and -other kinds of grain raised in
that country are decidedly inferior in quality to those of
Britain; that the crops, too, even under the best manage¬
ment, are full of grass and weeds, and that the harvests
are generally wet and tedious. Nowr, surely the mere
extension of tillage under such circumstances, and this was
the whole effect of the bounty, could n^t be advantageous.
If the agriculture of Ireland had been improved, if more
produce had been obtained with less labour than for¬
merly, and if the cottage system, the bane of that king¬
dom, had been losing ground, it might have been justly
contended that the immediate effects of the bounty had
been beneficial; but it has not had, and could not ration¬
ally be expected to have, any such consequences. “ Per¬
haps,” says Mr Wakefield, “ I shall be told that Ireland
under the present system is improving, and that rents of
late years have considerably risen. Rents will rise by
an extension, as well as by an improvement of tillage ;x
' (>uch improvements in agriculture as enable a greater quantity of produce to be procured with the same expenditure of capital
and labour instead of increasing, lower rent- It is by the investment of capital, with a diminished return, and by the bringing of
poorer lands under cultivation, that rent is really raised.
344 CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
Tcln^nl in" well ktl^hSTh^ave % Ztl-^
Laws.
of an enlargement of circulating medium. To these causes
I ascribe the latter circumstance, the truth of which I
fully admit, though I absolutely deny the former. If any
one will show me farming buildings of a late erection, or
point out a single plough of a proper construction, in the
and cheapest fare, is extremely pernicious to the bestCui'
interests of mankind. Encomiums ought not to be be-'"’’
stowed on those who are satisfied with mere necessaries.
On the contrary, such indifference ought to be held dis¬
graceful. A taste for the comforts, the enjoyments, and
esta.
C^ofa^ kfshfarmfr, whoseTnly means of support is the luxuries of life should be as widely diffused as pos-
the cultivation of the soil, I will allow that some improve- sible, and, if possible, interwoven with t le national cha-
ment has taken place Is any competent judge prepared racter and prejudices. Tins, as it appears to us, is the
to say that fewer acr’es, in proportion to the whole tillage best mode of attempting to meliorate the condition of the
to say, lie , , than there were twenty lower classes. Luxurious and even wasteful habits are
£1“ - incomparably better than that sluggish apathy, which
benefichtl, by affording emp oyment to the people ; but it would content itself w, h what can barely contmue mere
nilghtbe observed on the other hand, that to count the animal existence. ‘In those countries, Mr Ricardo jud,-
grains of wheat in every barrel would furnish them cm- ciously obserres, “ where the labouring classes have the
f ovment also. In every ease of this kind we ought to fewest wants, and are contented with the cheapest food
Ck m the result, for employment is useful only as it be- the people are exposed to the greatest vmissitudes and
comes productive” (AccJnl of Ireland, Statistical and miseries. They have no place of refuge from calamity;
p / 1 i n 582 1 they cannot seek safety in a lower station; they are
It rippears* much more reasonable to ascribe any real already so low that they can fall no lower On any deli-
improvement which may have taken place in Ireland since ctency of the chtel article of their subsistence, here are
1784, to the comparative degree of freedom then confer- few substitutes of which they can avail themselves, and
red on that country; to the abolition of various restric- dearth to them is attended with almost al the evils of
tions previously imposed on its industry; and, above all,
to the political privileges conferred on the Catholics, ra¬
ther than to the mere granting of a bounty on the expor¬
tation of corn. A great proportion of the people were for¬
merly a degraded sect, viewed with jealousy and aversion
by the ruling few, and deprived of all political power; and
it was natural to expect that a very marked improvement
in their circumstances should take place after they were
in some measure restored to the enjoyment of their natu¬
ral rights, and had become really interested in the im¬
provement of the country. This, in our opinion, is the
chief source of the recent improvement of Ireland, which,
instead of being accelerated, was kept back by the bounty.
By suddenly raising prices, that measure certainly stimu¬
lated the cultivation of the soil; but the want of capital,    ~-j ---— . , ' . j . .
and the consequent difficulty of finding farmers capable of c. 97) established a perfect freedom m the corn trade be- a.in
taking large farms, coupled with the general predilection tween the two great divisions of the empire; and contn-
of the Irish people in favour of small ones, have conspired buted more perhaps to the general advantage and pios-
to cause a still more minute division of property, and to perity, than any other enactment framed in the leignot
give a factitious stimulus to population. The mere fact George III.. ..... . .
of an increase having taken place in the numbers of a Tdie provisions of the existing law regulating exporta-
people (and it is on this that Mr Newenham principally tion and importation are the same in Ireland as in Great
relies when contending for the favourable effects of the Britain. Ihe averages by which the opening an s ut-
bounty), will not enable us to determine whether it has ting ot the ports are regulated, being framed with reter-
heen really beneficial. If it were possible, and we trust ence to the price of British corn only, it follows, as puces
it is not, to give the English and Scotch peasants the are always lower in Ireland than in this country, that the
same habits as those of Ireland, to render them satisfied restriction on importation operates most efficacious y in
with potatoes, mud cottages, fags and wretchedness, their that country.1
numbers would rapidly increase; but it would, at the T
same time, be indisputably certain that their situation
would be altered very much for the worse. In the same Having completed this sketch of the history of the corn
way, if we could inspire the people of Ireland with the laws, we shall now briefly examine the principles on which
same taste for comforts, cleanliness, and good living, they have been founded. And as there no longer exists
which so honourably distinguishes the people of Eng- any difference of opinion as to the propriety of giving an
land, their number would perhaps be diminished, but their unbounded freedom of exportation, we shall confine our
social condition would be rendered far more enviable inquiries to the policy of encouraging this exportation by
than at present. More happiness, more enjoyment, more, means of a bounty, and of laying restrictions on importa-
in short, of every thing that is either desirable or praise- tion.
worthy, will be found in a country occupied by a compa- That this subject may be properly understood, it is ne-
ratively few inhabitants, well fed, well clothed, and well cessary to premise, that the average value of corn, like
educated, than are to be found in a nation peopled w ith that of every other commodity, is regulated, in every stage
myriads of human beings pressing against the limits of of society, by the greater or less quantity of labour Mces-
subsistence, and sunk in poverty and ignorance. • sary to its production under the most unfavourable circum-
1 Our readers will find a very ample and instructive discussion respecting the inland bounty on the importation of corn into Dub¬
lin, in the Appendix to Mr Young’s Tour in Ireland.
The corn law of 1804, the first framed subsequently to
the union, extended to Ireland; and the price at which
the bounty became payable on the exportation of wheat
from that country was raised to 29s. 4d. per barrel, and
of rye to 20s. 4d.; the price at which the bounty was given
on the exportation of oats remained the same, and almost
no alteration was made on the amount of the bounties
themselves.
The shackles which an absurd policy had at different A
times (see 33d Geo. III. c. 65, 42d Geo. III. c. 35, 44th 1<!
Geo. III. c. 65, &c.) imposed on the transport of corn beA}1
tween Great Britain and Ireland, were not removed bythe^
act of 1804. These impolitic restraints were, however,trs
abolished very soon after. The act of 1806 (46th Geo. Ill.twiBri.
~*rt freedom in the corn trade be-tahnd
id.
E ^
Circi
itam
irulat
the <
chan
valut
raff
duce.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE. 345
les stances.' A busliel of wheat might be obtained from the This circumstance, and not the accumulation of capital, Principles
is rich soil in the Carse of Crowne at a half or a third of the by raising wages, reduces the profits of stock, and checks, of the
Corn 'vs'expense necessary to produce it in less favoured situations, or at least retards, the progress of all old settled and p0.CornLaws.
and might therefore be sold for a half or a third part of the pulous countries. The real value of a commodity not be- 'w^Y^w/
_price of the other. But if the demand be such as re- ing regulated by the price at which the labour required
quires the cultivation of inferior lands, the price of the for its production is paid, but by the quantity of that la-
produce of the richer lands is elevated so as to admit of hour, every increase in the wages of workmen obviously
ole the ordinary profits of stock being realized on the poorest, lessens the share of the commodity they manufacture
poorest.
For.were it not raised to this height, the cultivation of the
inferior lands would be abandoned, and the necessary sup¬
plies of food would no longer be obtained.
In the earlier stages of society, and wherever the popu¬
lation is very limited, the best lands only are cultivated;
and as they yield a large produce with comparatively little
labour, its value is proportionally low. But as society
advances, and as population becomes more numerous, re¬
course must be had to inferior soils. A greater expen¬
diture of capital and labour is then required to produce
the same quantity of corn ; and, of course, its value, com¬
pared with other commodities, in the production of which
no additional quantity of labour has been required, is in¬
creased.
The raising of raw produce is, therefore, very different
from any other species of industry. In manufactures, the
worst machinery is first set in motion, and every day its
powers are improved ; and it is rendered capable of yield¬
ing a greater amount of produce with the same expense.
The discovery of a new machine, or of a more expeditious
and less expensive mode of manufacturing, very soon su¬
persedes the older and clumsier machinery previously in
use; while the consequent competition never fails to reduce
the price of commodities to the sum which the least ex¬
pensive method of production requires for their manufac¬
ture.
In agriculture, on the contrary, the best machines, that
is, the best soils, are first brought into use; and recourse
is afterwards had to inferior soils, requiring a greater ex¬
penditure of capital and labour to produce the same sup¬
plies. Improvements in the construction of farming im¬
plements, and in agricultural management, reduce the
price of raw produce ; and, operating like improvements
in manufacturing machinery, so far assimilate the two
species of industry. Any fall, however, which may take
place in the price of raw produce, as it enables every class
of society to procure a greater quantity of it than before,
in exchange for their manufactured commodities or their
labour, raises the profits of stock, and leads, of course, to
an increased accumulation of capital. But “ this accumu¬
lation necessarily leads to a greater demand for labour, to
higher wages, to an increased population, and consequent¬
ly to a furtner demand for raw produce, and to an increas¬
ed cultivation.” (Ricardo, Principles, &c. p. 79.) Agri¬
cultural improvements check, for a time, the necessity of
having recourse to inferior soils; but the check is only
temporary. The stimulus which they at the same time
give to population, soon equalizes the demand with the
supply, and, by a re-action of a different kind, raises prices,
and forces the cultivation of poor lands.
The value of raw produce, therefore (though improve¬
ments in agriculture, and other circumstances, occasion-
a y reduce it), has a natural tendency to rise as society
advances. As it becomes more difficult to raise food, it
necessarily exchanges for a greater quantity of other pro-
uce. Not merely its nominal, but its real price is increas-
c ’ and no person can have the same command over it
fiS e °re’making a proportionally greater sacri-
cs of labour, or of some other equivalent.
which belongs to the capitalist, or, which is the same
thing, it lessens the profits of stock.
Supposing the value of money to be invariable, and the
quantity of labour necessary to produce L.1000 worth of
gloves to remain the same, the gloves would continue to
sell for that sum, whether the wages of the labour neces¬
sary to their production amounted to L.600, to L.800, or
to L.900. The rise of wages, it must be remembered, is
supposed to be quite general; and hence, iftheL.1000 worth
of gloves freely exchanged, before wages rose, for a certain
quantity of boots, stockings, coats, &c. they would do the
same afterwards, unless the labour expended on these
other commodities had increased or diminished ; for it is
evident that a rise of wages which equally affects differ¬
ent commodities leaves their relative values unaltered.
If the rise of wages were not universal, and if the glove An in¬
manufacturer alone had to pay 10 per cent, additional on crease in
the wages of his workmen, while the manufacturer of boots, ^le wages
stockings, coats, &c. paid only the former rate of wages, hibour
he would either obtain a greater quantity of these com-[^esi Rie*
modities in exchange for gloves, or be forced to abandon profit of
his trade altogether. But such a state of things could stock,
not continue. There would immediately be an influx of
labourers into the glove manufactory; and their increase
in one department of industry, and consequent diminution
in the rest, would very speedily adjust wages to the same
level. As soon, however, as this adjustment was effected,
the exchangeable values of these commodities would be
precisely the same as before the rise of wages. The glove
manufacturer could not say to the stocking manufacturer
that he must have a greater quantity of stockings in ex¬
change for gloves, inasmuch as he paid a higher rate of
wages, for the other would have it in his power to answer
that the rise of wages affected him to exactly the same ex¬
tent. Commodities would, therefore, continue to sell after
the rise for the same price as before, but that price would
be differently divided. A greater share would belong to
the labourer, and a less to the capitalist, or, which is the
same thing, the profits of stock would be diminished.
Fluctuations in the value of money obscure, but do not
in any degree affect, the relation of profits and wages. A
rise or a fall in the real wages of labour, the only one we
are here considering, results entirely from a greater or less
proportion of its produce going at one time to workmen
and at another to capitalists. When a greater share is as¬
signed to the workman, his wages are really augmented,
and when a smaller share, they are as really diminished,
whatever may be the state of money wages.
It has, indeed, been contended, that the price of labour Effect of a
has no connection with the price of food, and that the for- high price
mer being regulated solely by the supply and demand, a °.* Provi-
rise in the price of corn does not necessarily cause any in-slons on
crease in the wages of labour, nor consequently any re- h
duction in the profits of stock. But the cost of rearing
and maintaining labourers, independent of all other consi¬
derations, determines the lowest limit to which the price
of labour can permanently fall. In a manufacturing coun¬
try the rate of wages is, no doubt, exposed to great fluc¬
tuations, and a stagnation may take place in trade at the
TumZu COmplete demonstration of this important and fundamental principle, see Mr Ricardo’s Principles of Political Economy and
V0L VII.
2 x
346
Principles
of the
Corn Laws.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
Wages of
labour in
1770,1811
and 1832.
same time that corn is rising, so that the labouring class
may at once experience an increase in the price oi pro¬
visions and a fall of wages. But it the rise m the Price
corn be of a permanent nature, and it the demand do no
occasion a corresponding rise in the price ol labour, tl e
principle of increase will be affected, and the number of
workmen will be gradually reduced, until wages be raised
t0U maJpTrhaprbe objected, that in countries whene Ja-
bour is well rewarded, and where not more a Umd
two fifths of the wages of workmen are expendedim the pur
chase of corn, an increase in the price of bread and meal
would act rather as an inducement to retrench Bomjrhat
was not essentially necessary, than in d.minuDomof the mte
of increase. Few, however, ot the countries ot Europe are
in this situation; and as labourers constitute by far the
greatest portion of every society, no system of policy should
be recommended which has any tendency to dimmish thoK
hard-earned comforts. The experience of all agee bas
shown that a needy populace lose a just sense of then
dignity and rights as men, and become depraved and en-
slavenk It is in vain to expect industry where it does not
meet with a suitable reward; men will not submit to pri¬
vations and labour, unless in the hope of securing corre-
snonding comforts.
According to Mr A. Young, to whose meritorious ex¬
ertions we are indebted for much valuable information
ertiQns wu tuc ruviv,^v,v» —   . p
, respecting political and rural economy, the mean pnce ot
agricultural labour In 1767, 1768, ami 1770 was about 7s.
fid ner week, or Is. 3d. per day. Mr Young further states
the mean price of labour in 1810 and 1811 at 14s. 6d. per
week, or 2s. 5d. per day, being a rise of nearly cent, per
cent, on the former period. But he estimates the average
risp on bread, meat, butter, and cheese, during the same
interval, at 135 per cent.; and, consequently, wages were
really higher in 1770 than in 1810, by the difference, or
35 per cent. , , ' , .
Since 1813, however, the prices of bread, butcher s meat,
cheese, butter, sugar, candles, and most articles ot provi¬
sion, have fallen at an average from 40 to u0 per cent.
But during this period the wages of some sorts or labom
have hardly declined any thing; while, though the fall in
other departments has been considerable, it has been de¬
cidedly less than the fall in the price of provisions, a his cir¬
cumstance satisfactorily accounts for a part at least of the
rise of profits during the war, and of their decline since
the peace ; for the previous statements make it quite cleai
that during the war the labourers were receiving a less
share of the produce of their industry than they received
before it began, or since its termination.1 ihe improve¬
ment in the condition of the labouring class since 1815 is in¬
deed too obvious to admit of dispute. It is true, that m
some districts of the south, where the pernicious practice
of mixing poor-rates and wages has been adopted, the si¬
tuation of the lower classes is far from satisfactory, ihis,
however, is only a local, and, it is to be hoped, also a tem¬
porary evil; for it has been shown again and again that
a stop may be put to its further progress, and that it may
be rooted out, by merely reverting to the system of poor-
laws established previously to 1795. Ihroughout all the
north of England, in Scotland, and wherever, indeed,
the practice of eking out wages by allowances from the
poor-rates has not obtained, the poor are decidedly bettei
off at this moment than at any former period of our his¬
tory.2
If the number of labourers were suddenly increased
when wa^es rise, or suddenly reduced when they fall, suchPrinp
fluctuations would have very little influence over their of.
condition. But the number of labourers, though notfixeiW
can, speaking generally, be increased or diminished only by ^
slow decrees. When wages rise, the condition of the la¬
bourers^ improved ; for the. stimulus given to population
by such rise cannot have any sensible influence on the
supply of labour for more than twenty years, and during
this lengthened period the labourer has time to acquire
improved tastes and habits; the standard of his enjoy¬
ments is raised ; and he hesitates about marrying unless
he supposes he can maintain his wife and children in the
improved condition to which he has attained. The oppo¬
site circumstances take place when wages fall. The la¬
bourers are in that case obliged to economize ; to descend,
as it wrere, to a lower station, and to content themselves
with inferior accommodations; so that wlien^ wages rise
after having been for a considerable time depressed, a
good deal of the influence of the rise, or perhaps the whole,
is exhausted in elevating the labourers to the point whence
they had been sunk by the fall. .
Hence, in stating that money wages are always govern¬
ed by variations in the price of food and othei necessaries,
the proposition must be understood with its necessary li¬
mitations. There is in all cases a vis inertia to be over¬
come, that prevents any change of prices from having what
may be considered its proper effect on wages. When
the former rise, money wages do not immediately vise in
the same proportion, nor do they immediately fall when
prices fall. But they always vary in the same direction, mb
depend mainly upon and are materially influenced by each
If, therefore, speaking generally, a bounty on exporta¬
tion, or restrictions on importation, raise the exchange¬
able value, or real price of corn, they will also raise the
rate of wages. But as the exchangeable value of manu¬
factured commodities is not enhanced by a rise in the
price of labour, it is evident that the profits of stock, and
the power of accumulating capital, must be diminished
proportionally to the fictitious increase in the pi ice of coin.
By extending the market for corn, when a bounty isE£
first granted, the money price of raw produce is raised, and ^
agricultural profits being elevated above the general level,
there is an influx of capital from other departments, untilrav|
they are again reduced. Thus far a bounty accomplishesy
its obiect, and gives at least a temporary stimulus to cul¬
tivation. If the newly employed capital rendered the same
returns as the capital previously engaged in raising corn,
its real price would not be increased. But, as we have al¬
ready observed, this cannot be the case for any consider¬
able period. Discoveries in agriculture may, lor a while,
prevent recourse being had to poor soils; but the cons an
increase of population will in the end force their cultiva¬
tion. Now, the bounty has in this respect precisely the
same effects as an increase of population. Both increase
the demand for corn ; and as by this increase we are at
length forced to employ inferior machinery, or worse lan ,
in order to raise the additional supplies, their value mus
be augmented. t . • c™ pw.
Were the prices of corn in Britain and Spain,
ample, nearly on a level, no exportation w ou ta e P
from the one to the other. But if, when Pnc
in this situation, a bounty of 5s. per quarter were g
ed by our government, corn would be immediately p
ed from England into Spain. Limits would, it n> ’
be soon set to its exportation. The competition
> M‘CulloclTs Commercial Dictionary, art. Prices. 2 Edinburgh No. 11 b PP; ^6
* Lor a further development of this principle, see the chapter on 4V ages, m the article I oliticai. Lcoxo^n m
Hi:
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
347
prjr l ies takes place among exporters, as among every other class
of traders, prevents their realizing more than the ordinary
s,profits of stock, so that grain would be exported from
/ England to Spain, not in the expectation of realizing the
whole bounty as profit, but in the view merely of securing
the ordinary rate of profit on the capital employed in its
transfer. A rise of prices, though not to the whole ex¬
tent of the bounty, would therefore immediately take
place in this country, and a corresponding fall in Spain,
isior would this rise and fall be temporary. Corn would
be permanently reduced in Spain, because the unusual
cheapness of the foreign supplies would throw the poorest
lands out of tillage ; and it would be permanently raised
in England, because the increased demand would stimu¬
late the bringing of them under cultivation. A bounty
to the extent we have supposed would perhaps depress
prices 2s. 6d. per quarter in Spain, and raise them as much
in Britain. To the Spaniards it would be extremely ad¬
vantageous, as it would enable them to purchase the most
indispensable necessary of life at so much less than they
could otherwise do ; in Britain, however, its effects would
be directly opposite. A few more of our heaths and bogs
might be cultivated, but every class of persons, landlords
alone excepted, would find it more difficult to procure food
than before. The higher price of corn (supposing it not
to raise wages and diminish profits, which it would most
unquestionably do) would obviously be of no advantage,
and could not enrich the public, since it would in the end
be exactly proportioned to the greater difficulty experien¬
ced in raising the additional quantity.
Every bounty is objectionable, as producing an unnatu¬
ral distribution of the national capital; but a bounty on a
manufactured commodity does not increase the quantity
of labour necessary for its production, and would not, of
course, raise its exchangeable value. In this respect, a
bounty on the raising of raw produce is the most impo¬
litic of any, inasmuch as it not only occasions a faulty dis¬
tribution of capital, but also raises the cost of production,
and, consequently, the real price of the articles produced.
The argument that Dr Smith has brought forward
against granting a bounty is not therefore tenable. The
nature of things has not, as he imagined, stamped upon
corn a real and unalterable value. The variations in its ex¬
changeable worth, excluding the effects of scarcity and of
extraordinarily luxuriant crops, though somewhat slow, are
extremely perceptible at distant periods. Wheat raised
at an immense expense from a worthless bog or morass,
must have a greater value than that which, in an earlier
stage of society, is raised almost spontaneously from rich
alluvial lands. “ It is natural,” as he has himself observ¬
ed, “ that what is usually the produce of two days’ or two
hours’ labour, should be worth double of what is usually the
produce of one day’s or one hour’s labour.”
- “ If good land existed in a quantity much more abun-
sdant than the production of food for an increasing popu¬
lation required, or if capital could be indefinitely employed
without a diminished return on the old land, there could
be no rise of rent; for rent invariably proceeds from the
employment of an additional quantity of labour with a
proportionally less return.” (Ricardo, Principles of Poli¬
tical Economy, p. 58.) Now, as bounties force recourse
to poor soils, and consequently diminish the productive
power of fresh capital when applied to land, they contri¬
bute to raise rent, and are in so far beneficial to the land¬
lords. But the other classes of society, besides being
burdened with the tax necessary to pay the bounty, and
compelled to pay an additional price for their most indis¬
pensable necessaries, derive a less return from their capi¬
tals. Farmers may, indeed, reap during the currency of
their leases some advantage from a bounty, but it cannot
bunt;
rantae
o land
ords.
be permanent. An increase in the cost of raising raw pro- Principles
duce reduces agricultural as well as all other profits. At ^ of the
the expiration of the farmer’s lease his rent is raised, and^'orn^'aW8*
he is obliged to employ an additional number of labourers,
and to pay them higher wages, while the rise in the price
of produce, as it is proportioned only to the rise of rent, or
to the additional number of labourers, does not compen¬
sate the farmer for the rise in the rate of wages.
In as far, therefore, as bounties on exportation, or re¬
strictions on the importation of corn, tend to raise its real
price* or to prevent it from falling, they tend to diminish
the general profits of stock, or to prevent their rising to
what they would be did no bounties or restrictions on
importation exist.
But bounties in every case, and restrictions on importa- Bounties
tion where, as in Britain, they are effectual, not only tend have a len¬
to lessen the profits of stock, and to check the accutnula-dency to
tion of capital, but they stimulate its transference to othertorce capi-
countries. The love of country, the thousand ties of so.. tal abroad-
ciety and friendship, the ignorance of foreign languages,
and the desire of having one’s funds employed under their
own inspection, will no doubt in many cases render capi¬
talists satisfied with a less rate of profit in their own coun¬
try than they might derive by employing their funds in
another. But the love of country has its limits. The love
of gain is a no less powerful and constantly operating prin¬
ciple ; and if capitalists be once assured that their stock
may be laid out with equal security, and with consider¬
ably greater advantage, in foreign states, its transfer¬
ence to a greater or less degree will unquestionably take
place.
Mr Malthus has dwelt at considerable length on the
superior advantages enjoyed by a manufacturing country
possessing great resources in land. {Essay on Population,
5th edition, vol. ii. p. 246.) He conceives that such a
country “ would go on increasing in riches and strength,
although surrounded by Bishop Berkeley’s wall of brass.”
When manufacturing capital became redundant, and ma¬
nufactured commodities too cheap, it would have no oc¬
casion to wait for the increasing raw produce of its neigh¬
bours. Its own redundant manufacturing capital would be
transferred to land; and, on the same principle, when the
price of raw produce fell too low, the capital employed in
raising it would be consigned to manufactures. In this
way the national prosperity might, in Mr Malthus’s opi¬
nion, be indefinitely prolonged.
Had Mr Malthus extended this reasoning to the world
at large, or at least to the commercial part of it, it would
have been unexceptionable. But unless this particular
country were actually surrounded by a wall of brass, capi¬
tal would be withdrawn from it as soon as the increase of
population forced the cultivation of poorer soils than those
cultivated in its immediate vicinity, or as soon as the real
price of its raw produce had become comparatively high.
Mr Malthus would readily admit that no capitalist would
rest satisfied with a less rate of profit in Devonshire, and
would not continue to pay his labourers at a higher rate
in that county, than in Yorkshire : but would affirm, w ith
every one else, that either the profits of stock must in¬
crease, and the rate of wages be reduced in Devon¬
shire, or that capital will be transferred from it to York.
And had he recollected that the laws which regulate
the distribution of capital between different provinces of
the same kingdom, are the same with those which regulate
its distribution among different and independent kingdoms,
he could not have failed to perceive the erroneousness of
his conclusions when applied to the case of a nation hav¬
ing any intercourse vdth its neighbours.
This is the worst view that can be taken of bounties and
restrictions. To establish their impolicy, it is sufficient to
348
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
. r.i ^ ^„r,rrv must evidently be a srood deal worse than thatPrin.
Principles show that they necessarily check the increase of that capi- g > importing one. In the latter, a slight rise ^ of
- tal which alone supports labour fnd sets tm motion and • " '
of the tal which alone supports labour and sets it in motion, an o^ ^ wo^ld 0ccasi0n a much greater importation; but0®™ n
Com Laws. by wbose extent the extent oj th«/naustry of 1 ex rting country, prices must not only be raised by W;
Bounties
have no
tendency
to reduce
the real
price of
corn by
causing a
  _ tent 9° t ie , ustry 0t t,ie Ci°l ^ :n {,n pvnorting country, prices must not only be raised by
’ try must be regulated. But if they do not merely cie^ ^ ^ ^ carriage from foreign ports, but by
lestCbeTat!std u/atTytelorg thT,ery worst’ ex- an addition^, sufflcient to de,ermine itnporta.ioa
sighted policy can have recourse. . . , .,a xVnnLi not have any material effect on prices ; but no un¬
it has, however, been contended, that althoug i _ portation to make up for alarger deficiency could take place,
effect of the bounty may be to ra‘se prices, y ^ ^ Pntil ices had risenj not merely higher than ordinary, but
attracting an unusually freat .ice. That this decidedly higher than the prices of the countries to which
causes a glut of the maiket, and a fa I? . . f . p0]anj is in the habit of exporting.
“."1 rfuVoTthe6 markefsleknrto cause a tempo’- Again, in seasons when there is a luxuriant crop in a
«*. depression of prices,
     # *
country exporting by means of a bounty, it operates with
. ,„Henv tesucVdepression'cannot last double effect, and very little of the surplus is stored up to
glut of the we do not mean to deny, but S'ICI1“ I1"” . answer the home consumption in case of future exigen-
market. for any lengthened period, unless the real P"“ « “rn’ ^ B forc;„„ exportation, it hinders, as Dr Smith has
that is, unless the labour necessary for its production, be entity me rf ^ ^ the dis_
diminished. , n nnrri „nri tresses of another, and therefore occasions, in years of
caSTrcre"nmoringPfrl manufactures to scarcity, a greater importation than would otherwise be
land, prices may subsequent^ ““xhes^conclusions do not depend on theory only. If
same as before. I he;r 1'1Se ^ties of this newly employed we compare the prices from 1688 to 1766, the period of the
circumstance of equal quantities of tlu-rnnit il nre- onerationof the bounty, and when the exports almost always
capital being less or more productive than the capital pie «P^«°thfe in J;with the prices of the period from
viously engaged in agriculture. Ihe fres <1 ’ 1705t;oi792 whenthecorntradeenjoyedatolerablede-
bowever, & more productive, except ^ j ^ ^ then importation and exportation
in the manner of working land, or from a saving oflabour, ^ee ^ b the stlate of the supply and de-
which it is evident might take Plac^vlt b ^nded mand, we shall find that prices varied a great deal more
and cannot be occasioned by ^ be expendea ma^ thanFi„ the latter. Keeping out of
unaccompanied by any such improveme , ■ • be vears\n which the coin was degraded, or its value
raise prices or be in a great measure os o I 1 fluctuatin^ in 1724) the price of the Winchester quarter
tors ; for if the poorest soils in tillage do no 3 " . :dd]:n^. wheat was 32s. 10|d. and in the following
dinary rate of profit, their cultivation must be abandoned of middling . fn 1727 it fell t0 37s. 4d.
In reference to a glut of the home maike cause y c y ‘ 4gs- gd. The average price of
bounty, it may be observed that that will very seldom hap- and ~ d d f 1743 d 1744 on]
pen, except in seasons when there is an extraordinarily 1740 and ™ p ^^ ^ And) ^ /
luxuriant crop, and of course very low prices, in the coun- -^s. . c c . was 30s. 5d. and in 1756,
try to which the grain exported by means of the bounty '^aad as 46s. 8d. * The greatesl
is usually sent. Were Great Britain regular y in e c ’ £ 0f price from 17lf to 1765 is that between the
bit of exporting corn, either by a bounty or otherwise, to '““that 0f 1757, or 53s. M,
Spain, the average prices of both kingdoms would ere long pnee of 17M, or 22s. ^ (j„ the other
quarter S of a quarter ^ JlAwest^of ^period bum 1755 m 17321s
per cenb So much for the
employed, insurance, &c But fl'oof '“oh -ould be the ko^equalizmg^s. ^ ^ the perniciou8 ,en.4
the crops in either conn- dency of a bounty. At present ^ed - are secure.-
try. When prices suddenly fell in Spain, owing to a lux- against its operation sh°u dwhich is thetufc
country, caused by the cessation of the foreign demand,
had been as great as in Spain. A nation which exports
com is liable to fluctuations of price, not merely from the
me CUUUL1 y, ru  -- . Win.;
in ordinary years, sufficiently cheap for the foreign mar-m
ket. The following remarks shall therefore be directed J ^
_ _ w /** - - - - J. LZ ^ <-» 11 Turn Ql*
St£lte and inasmuch as a bounty gives a factitious ex,en-
ers
SUB
Bounties
have a
tendency
to increase
howh that restrictions, wherever they prevent ac-C0Ej
^ Pxp-^n, it must also tend to vendee prices less cess to ^eape.m atkets,
Spim.t“srdr^Ta;f’z^ep:^
nmansof a bounty has to - secutdy whmh tlm =
at least a greater resource in years of scarcity than a na
tionsin the tion in a different situation. This idea, however, though
price of plausible, and to a certain extent correct, is in the main
fallacious. If the deficiency of the crop did not exceed
the ordinary quantity of corn exported, there would not
raw pro¬
duce.
tu til C OCUUIIUJT *rii*w*     ^ 1 1
to afford, of furnishing an independent and ample supply
of provisions ; and, second, to its influence in maintaining
prices uniformly at a high level.
I. Where one nation has been for a series of years in
the habit of importing corn from another, it must have
the ordinary quantity of com exported, mere wouiu hul mo nauu vi **“^^“*& ^ „ipnt.
certainly hi any considerable rise of price ; but if the de- exported some more accePtablePrad^etr^ “ this
ficiency exceeds that quantity, the situation of an export- The farmers of the corn-growing country will,
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE. 349
jeg commerce is established, calculate as much upon the de¬
mand of the importing country, as on that of their own
^•citizens. They will cultivate an additional quantity of
land, raise larger crops, and consequently pay higher
rents, solely because they are assured of this vent for
their produce. The benefits of this intercourse are there¬
fore reciprocal, and the corn growers, as much as the
corn buyers, are interested in a continuance of the traf¬
fic, and would suffer as much by its cessation. “ When
we consider,” says Mr Ricardo, “ the value of even a few
weeks consumption of corn in England, no interruption
could be given to the export trade, if the Continent sup¬
plied us with any considerable quantity of corn, without
the most extensively ruinous commercial distress, dis¬
tress which no sovereign, or combination of sovereigns,
would be willing to inflict on their people; and, though
willing, it would be a measure to which probably no peo¬
ple would submit. It was the endeavour of Bonaparte to
prevent the exportation of the raw produce of Russia,
more than any other cause, which produced the astonish¬
ing efforts of the people of that country against the most
powerful fbrce, perhaps, ever assembled to subjugate a
nation.” {Essay on the Profits of Stock, p. 19.)
But when a nation adopts a policy like that on which
we are now acting, and refuses to admit any foreign corn,
except when the home price reaches a height indicating
scarcity, she must then, it is obvious, contend in a mar¬
ket to which no corn has been brought, with a view to
answer her demand. The difficulties we have occasionally
experienced in importing have been greatly exaggerated ;
but they result, in fact, from the nature of our own policy
respecting it. Perpetually fluctuating between bounties,
restrictions, and prohibitions, no foreign country can ever
calculate on our continuing to import their corn. We
may buy a million of quarters to-day, but we may buy
no more for a couple of twelvemonths. If our demand
were steady, if we regularly imported, additional supplies
would be raised for our market; rents would be increased;
and foreign farmers, landlords, merchants, shipowners, &c.
would be deeply interested in procuring us whatever quan¬
tity of corn we might require; but at present we enter
the foreign market as strangers only. Our orders may be
expected, but they cannot be reckoned on. Whatever sup¬
plies we may procure are withdrawn from the ordinary
stoch; so that prices abroad are unnaturally raised, expor¬
tation checked, and the home price allowed to reach a com¬
paratively great height.
Most foreign states have indeed fixed a statutory price
at which exportation shall always cease. But this price is
much higher than the average; and were our corn trade
unrestricted, the importations into this country would not
have so much effect in raising prices abroad as is commonly
supposed, as a greater production would universally take
place; and it is probable that foreign powers, becoming
sensible of the advantages of a free trade, would soon re¬
peal this limitation.
When a merely temporary liberty is granted to import,
the operations and the enterprise of merchants are alike
cramped. They cannot safely order corn from distant
countries, lest the price should fall before it arrives, and
the ports be shut. They are compelled to have recourse
to countries in our immediate vicinity ; their orders must
be given on the spur of the moment, and all that consider¬
ation and combination necessary to insure the success of
every complex transaction are unavoidably excluded.
The law of 1815, and those enacted since, give liberty
to import and warehouse foreign grain duty free, either
for re-exportation or for home consumption, when the
price reaches the limit at which it is admissible; but this
liberty is not of so much consequence as might be sup¬
posed. Corn is at once a bulky and a perishable commo- Principles
dity ; and capitalists seldom employ large funds in import- of the
ing it, unless there be at the time a strong probability that ^oin _ wf*
prices will very soon attain the limit when it may be sold.
Corn will at all times be stored up for a market like Am¬
sterdam, because it may be disposed of at the pleasure of
the holder, and its sale is not regulated by any contin¬
gent circumstance. In this country the case is very dif¬
ferent. An unforeseen change of weather often checks
a rise of prices at the very time that a further rise was
confidently expected; and even the warehousing of any
considerable quantity of foreign grain would of itself have
a similar, though a less effect. By giving little freedom to
mercantile operations, and preventing the importer from
disposing of his commodity when he thinks proper, this
system, in ordinary years, tends to suppress warehousing
altogether, and, consequently, tends to deprive the coun¬
try of one of its main securities against a sudden rise of
prices in deficient years.
It may be further observed, that the wider the surface
from which a country derives its supplies of food, the less
is it exposed to fluctuations of price arising from favour¬
able or unfavourable seasons. A general failure of the
crops of an pxtensive kingdom is a calamity that but sel¬
dom occurs. The weather that is unfavourable to vege¬
tation in one species of soil is frequently advantageous to
it in another. If moist clay lands suffer from a wet sum¬
mer, the crops are rendered more luxuriant in dry rocky
districts. The excess of produce in one province com¬
pensates for its deficiency in another ; and, except in ano¬
malous cases, the total supply is nearly the same ; but if
this be generally true of a single nation, it is always true
of the world at large. No instance of universal scarcity
darkens the history of mankind ; but it is constantly found,
that when the crops of one country fail, plenty reigns in
some other quarter. A freedom of trade is alone wanted
to guarantee a country like Britain, abounding in all the
varied products of industry, in merchandise suited to the
wants of every society, from the possibility of a scarcity.
The nations of the earth are not condemned to throw the
dice to determine which of them shall submit to be starved.
There is always abundance of food in the world. To en¬
joy a constant plent}', we have only to lay aside our pro¬
hibitions and restrictions, and to cease to counteract the
benevolent wisdom of Providence.
The case of Holland strongly corroborates the truth of
this statement. In the days of her greatest prosperity
she was chiefly fed with imported corn, and the prices at
Amsterdam were extremely moderate, and, what is of
infinite consequence, were steadier than in any other mar¬
ket of Europe. Even during the convulsions of the late
war, and when her former commercial connections were
almost all dissolved, prices fluctuated very little.
II. But, independently altogether of the circumstances Ability to
already alluded to, it is easy to see that restrictions on export es-
the importation of corn into such a country as this mustsential to
necessarily occasion ruinous fluctuations of price, raising
it sometimes far above, and at other times sinking it asPnces'
much below, the common level.
The ability to export is indispensable to the equality ofSuch abi-
prices in a country that grows nearly its own supply of hty cannot
corn ; for, without such ability, all the increased produce
of an unusually luxuriant harvest being thrown upon the^”®^
home market, prices are sunk to such an extent as to be countries,
destructive of the interests of the agriculturists. But the along with
mere absence of any legal obstacle will not insure the restrictions
power of exportation. This maybe about as effectuallyon jmPor*
prevented by the influence of restrictions on importation,tatlon*
as by a prohibition of export. Suppose that a countr}',
either more densely peopled, or less abundantly supplied
■
of
Corn
350 CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
* . , i • 11 o Owins partly to the deficient crop of 1816, but more Prkv
Principles with fertile land, than her neighbours, y. ‘ t th ^bstecles in the way of importation, the price of oft
the on importation, and that m consequence, her average otx, 94s. 9d. and in 1818 to 84s. Id.Com
prices are raised 10s. or 15 s. a quarter above those or the corn ^ ^ of ^ high priees. They fe. w,, f
surrounding states: ibis increase o. P*^e ‘ b , the drooping spirits of the farmers, who imagined
a stimulus to agriculture, t !at J ll^iTta^TpeHod become that the corn laws were at length beginning to produce the
may, and most probably will, at no dlsta P ’ ^ch be effects anticipated from them, and that the golden days
adequate to supply the consumption-But har_ of ]812, when wheat sold for 125s. a quarter, were about
the case, it is plain that the first unusua y p return ! This, however, was only a transient gleam. The
vest would cause a glut of the home Market ;smd hat it toj-etui^ , ^ & ^ |Ktension of tiHage> im.
would be impossible to set reht, « ^ ^ thei^ provements were recommenced with new energy, vast ad-
exporting to other countries, till the f .ter dltional sums of capital were expended upon the land; and
level that is, till they had sunk ^ these circumstances conspiring with luxuriant harvests,
on tapo^ion ^ the
all the currence of periods of loo- prices and agricultural distress
prices since Iblo. Owinn to tne e ^ durin'-- the by imposing restrictions on importation, hreedom is the
ment given by the high prices t* g ^ and f813) 0l]y effectual security against injurious vicissitudes. Re-
latter years ot the war, we gre , i , • ts strictions occasion the very evils they are said to remove
a sufficient supply for oiu- own consu ] ’ V { paiiiate. By preventing importation in ordirtary years,
in these years being fu, y balanced by U, export to me price8fe abo‘ve the coramon level, they
Peninsula on account of the ^ l[md attained its make exportation in favourable seasons impracticable, till
conclusively that the lesti c y ho attend_ prices have sunk unnaturally low! This is a defect inhe-
maximum degree of influence , and a y > P restrictive system, which nothing but the
ed to the circ—® m.gh^ha™ 1=t thatjha ^tL ^tl« ZchVn of destroying a porLr of the
first particularly luxuriant c j er gee^ t0 have produce of a plentiful harvest will ever be able to get rid
a heavy fall of prices. No , • ’ nce the 0fi Protection cannot be carried farther than monopo-
liicuUurU^^entertalned the’ tnosj unfounded exp’ectu- ly; and monopoly cannot sustain prices in abundant year,
S“f 7Z the act of 1810. They inutgioed that
e&pit^ and the ruin oA large proportion of foe
HaY&e'Tom^suppiTbSMSlyuS ^We should mistake, however if me supposed that the
SStS’^sihiefo c^fo-^yconaide^ Z^S^t i
Sfo asO80sn to the producers can he otherwise to foe
rate as bus., tne anucipanu s a . , , consumers. A glut of the market, occasioned by luxu-
beAfom case “lire home" Fodiction'hud become about riant harvests, and the want of the power to export, can-
eouAlent to he demand; and experience proved that a not be of long contmuance i for, whde it continue,, « can
S ooMidembly under 80s. was suiiicient to enable the hardly fail, by d.stressmg all classes of fanners ami rum-
culture of the greater port of the inferior lands, that had mg many, to check every species of agricultural
been broken up duri,|. the war, to be carried on. It is ment, and to lessen the extent of land m ullage. When
no doubt true, that a good deal of the fail of price in
1814 and 1815 was apparent rather than real, and re¬
sulted as much from the rise that then took place in the
value of the currency, in consequence of the destruction
of country bank paper, as from an increased-supply of
corn. Still, however, the fall in the value of corn, brought
about by the rise in the value of money, contributed equally
with that occasioned by increased production, to disap¬
point the agriculturists. The exclusion of foreign corn
till the home price reached 80s. rendered its price in
ordinary years, though considerably under that limit, a
<n>od deal higher than in the surrounding European coun¬
tries. But when, as in 1816 and 1817, the crops were
materially deficient, the restriction operated with in-
menr, ana ro lessen uie eAient ui ^
therefore, an unfavourable season recurs, the re-action is
for the most part appalling. The supply, being lessened
not only by the badness ot the season, but also by a dimi¬
nution of the quantity of land in crop, falls very far below
an average, and a severe scarcity generally ensues. Re¬
strictions on importation turn what ought to be a blessing
into a curse. They make an abundant crop productive of
great injury to the farmer, and go far to render two or
three such crops in succession sure forerunners of scar¬
city, and perhaps of famine ! _
The principles now laid down are so obvious, and are
so completely corroborated by the history of the period
since 1814, that it is unnecessary perhaps to enlarge fur-
materially aenc.enr, me resu-.euon upex».cu    ther on this part of our subject: 'But ^e following ex-
creased efficacy, and powerfully contributed, in the way tract from a speech of Mr Huskisson in lb~a expose
already pointed out, to stint importation, and consequently the principal defects of tne existing system, in so or ,
to increase the pressure of the scarcity, and to raise and at the same time so popular a manner, that we snan
prices. Unlooked for, however, as it certainly was, this take the liberty to lay it before the reader: .
effect of the restriction proved in the end quite as inju- “ He had always understood that the grea e , [ r '
rious to the agriculturists as to the other classes; for by turn in this important question was to P^0Vlde for steaoy kjss o[
adding materially to that rise of prices which a scarcity prices, and to guard against excessive tiuctua 0
must under any circumstances occasion, the stimulus it the vicissitudes ot trade. How did the presen R , laws
• i.„ ~*'vy/-»w/-ivtirwr»c»llxr qntrnnpntlmf vulp for tllP.SP Rllds ? I3v llITlltinff tll0 mcUKGtS II0IT1
must under any circumstances occasion, me stimulus it uie vici^uuuc& u ~ which
gives to agriculture is proportionally augmented ; so that vide for these ends? Ly limiting the maikets
when a luxuriant crop again occurs, the market is much we draw our supplies, by destroying the vent
more overloaded than it would have been under a free should otherwise have for our produce wheneve
system, and prices sink in a corresponding degree. blessed with a superabundant harvest, or by expos g
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE. 351
Priii
of
lorn
es to an alternate fluctuation of high and low prices. To
sav of a system which affected the price of labour and
vs. comforts of the labourer, and which cramped the re-
sources, not only of the‘manufacturer, but of the farmer
himself—to say of such a system, that it “ worked well,1”
was so completely refuted, by the fact, that he was sur¬
prised that any man should be bold enough to make it.
What did they think of its working well in 1822, when
corn was as low as 88s. a quarter ? Within two years and
a half the price of corn had varied from 112s. to 38s. a
quarter. Such fluctuatio7is deprived the farmer of all se¬
curity, and converted his business into mere gambling. The
man who engaged in a long lease could not at present be
aware of the conditions on which he was taking it, nor
of the results which it might produce upbn his family
arrangements. But this was not the only inconvenience
of the system. Look at the situation in which we were
placed when a bad harvest made it necessary for us to
go to the foreign markets. The price of corn immediate¬
ly advanced then. The foreign government, seeing our
demand for it, laid a tax upon the article ; this further in¬
creased the price ; and the result was, that our exchanges
were suddenly altered, so that we obtained the required
supply under the greatest possible disadvantages. He
had heard it said, and by gentlemen wdio had reflected
on the subject, that if we had great fluctuations, there
was in them, notwithstanding, a fair average price ! He
wondered what this phrase meant when applied to the
subsistence of the people. He should like to know how
any gentleman accustomed to eat a good dinner every day
would like to be kept a week without food, and to be sup¬
plied the next with twice as much as he wanted. Would
he be satisfied with being told that he had got a fair
average quantity of provisions for each day in the two
weeks ? He thought that the gentleman would not be
satisfied; that he would find such an average system was
neither wholesome to his constitution nor pleasant to his
stomach.” (Debates, 2Qth April 1825.)
The previous reasonings and statements have sufficient¬
ly established, Is#, That the laying of restrictions on the
importation of corn into a country that would generally
or occasionally import, occasions an increased cultivation
of bad land, and by so doing raises prices and depresses
profits; 2c?, That any obstacle to the free importation of
corn tends in so far to throw a country on her own re¬
sources, and lessens her ability to profit by the provision
made by Providence for equalizing the deficiencies in the
harvests of particular countries by a corresponding sur¬
plus in others; 3c/, That the prevention of importation in
ordinary years, by raising the average price of corn to a
comparatively high level, renders exportation in a pecu¬
liarly abundant year impossible, till prices sink so as to
be productive of great agricultural distress; and, kth,
That this distress, by defeating the plans of the cultiva¬
tors, discouraging improvements, and lessening the quan¬
tity of land sown, tends materially to diminish the home
supply; and when the produce of a year, diminished
by these causes, happens also to be diminished by a bad
season, the combined influence of the two is most disas¬
trous, and there is both an enormous increase of price,
and the severest pressure upon the industrious classes.
Such being the inevitable consequences of restrictions
on the corn trade, it is surely high time that they were
abolished, and a return made to a free system. The in¬
creased importation that would take place were the ports
always open as soon as any considerable deficiency in the
crops was apprehended, would prevent any exorbitant rise
of prices ; while, on the other hand, when the crops were Principles
universally luxuriant, a ready outlet would be found for of the
the surplus in foreign countries, without its occasioning
any very heavy fall. To expect to combine steadiness of
prices with restrictions on importation, is to expect to
reconcile what is contradictory and absurd. The higher
the limit at wdiich the importation of foreign corn into a
country like England is fixed, the greater will be the os¬
cillation of prices. If we would secure for ourselves abun¬
dance, and avoid fluctuation, we must renounce all attempts
at exclusion, and be ready to deal in corn, as we ought to
be in every thing else, on fair and liberal principles.
We are, however, willing to admit, that the restrictions influence
imposed on the corn trade during the last ten years have of importa-
not been so productive of disastrous consequences as Bon from
we should have been led, looking as well to experience^re^ant^'
as to theory, to anticipate. This modified action is, we
believe, principally asci ibable to the very great increase
of the imports from Ireland. Previously to 1806, when
a perfectly free corn trade between Great Britain and
Ireland was, for the first time, established, the imports
did not amount to 400,000 quarters a year, whereas they
now amount to 2,400,000; and any one who has ever
been in Ireland, or is aware of the wretched state of
agriculture in it, and of the amazing fertility of the soil,
must be satisfied that a very slight improvement would
occasion an extraordinary increase in the imports from
that country; and notwithstanding the disturbances that
have recently grown out of the collection of tithes, which,
it is to be hoped, may be speedily abolished, it is be¬
lieved, by those best qualified to form an opinion, that
improvements are at present going forward with consi¬
derable spirit. The settlement of the catholic question,
and the disfranchisement of the forty-shilling freeholders,
by putting an end to degrading distinctions, promoting
tranquillity, and taking away one of the principal induce¬
ments to the pernicious practice of splitting farms, have
already had great influence in accelerating the progress
of industry, and will, it maybe presumed, eventually lead
to the most material improvements. Hence it is by no
means improbable that the growing imports from Ireland
may at no distant period reduce our prices to a level with
those of the Continent, and even render this an occasion¬
ally exporting country. These, however, are contingent
and uncertain results; and, supposing them to be ulti¬
mately realized, the corn laws must in the mean time be
productive of great hardship, and must, in all time to
come, aggravate to a frightful extent the misery insepa¬
rable from bad harvests.
Perhaps the most imposing of the arguments urged Popular
against an unrestricted corn trade proceeds on the assump- arguments
tion, that ultimately every agricultural nation will manu-in. defence
facture for itself, and will cease purchasing from abroad. corn
But surely it is not meant to be insinuated that, in thela"!”
progress of society, there will be no interchange by differ¬
ent nations of manufactured commodities for raw produce.
It is evidently impossible such a state of things can ever
exist until the cost of raising raw produce in different
countries becomes the same. America may, and it is most
probable will, at some future period, manufacture cotton
goods for her own consumption ; but while the cost of rais¬
ing wheat is less in that republic than in England, it will
be sent thither in return for some species of our produce.
Nothing but the revival of the enactments of the thir¬
teenth and fourteenth centuries, and prohibiting exporta¬
tion altogether,-can possibly prevent corn finding its way
to those places where its value is greatest.
1 Alluding to the statement of a preceding speaker.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
359  -
Principles That the profits of stock ore dioiinished by the accu-
of tlie j^yjation of capital, is supposed by many. P . • ’ ^igtribution of the labour of the world, we have prevented Com+ i
Com Laws-j eve fundame„tally erroneous ^ Con.mod,tre be ng, 1 f‘“ul ™ °araouut of productions from being obtained W'
• case bought by commodities, their multiplica- the greatest am°uii ^ ^  
tion cannot occasion any fall in the value of each other.
If, under any circumstances, a pair of 8>»y_s. “ch“"ga
by that labour in manufactured commodities, we should
further punish ourselves by diminishing the productive
powers of the general labour in the supply of raw pro-
duce. It would be much wiser to acknowledge the errors
which a mistaken policy has induced us to adopt, and im-
commence a gradual recurrence to the sound
(Principles of Po-
It, unaer any cin.-umoi.aiiL.vo, v  D a far a
for a pair of stockings, and a quarter of wheat for a
mir of boots, they will continue, provided they are all in-
creased in the same proportion to the demand, to Reserve ^
precisely the same exchangeable value on® " nted* principles of an universal free trade.”
[o whatever extent their quantity may be augmented. &c. p. 444.)
Thus, supposing the capital engaged 1 man. Notwithstanding the restraints on importation that have
branches of trade and industry is a*}uste g near. existed since 1815, the fall of prices originating in the
ner that, all things considered, eve y l any udditiona! circumstances already described, has been such as to
ly the same rate of profit, it is e'u t became ratio occasion the cessation of tillage.on some of the poorer
capital invested in them all, ^c^ord ? f ‘one arti- soils that were broken up between 1809 and 1814. Had
of distribution, would not sink the P ‘ / before- the restraints referred to not been imposed, the fall of
cle ; each would sell for precisely t le sam ^ ^ .ceg would have been decidedly greater; but th,e facts
and if wages remained statl0‘1f1,T’. -.J If t00 much and statements collected in a subsequent part of this arti-
would neither be increased re- cle show that prices, even under a perfectly free system,
of one commodity, as of cotton, he m c pmnloved would not have fallen to any thing like the extent that is
commonly believed , and ipos4 «bat a dn,y o,^M
can only be temporary. Some other department must, at
the same time, be understocked, and, yielding largei pro¬
fits, will attract the surplus capital employed in the cotton
manufacture. We have therefore no reason to be alarmed
at the effects of competition in any department. Ihe
manufacture of one commodity opens a market for the
8s. a quarter had been laid on importation, the fall during
the last ten years would have been quite inconsiderable,
and any loss the agriculturists might have sustained from
it would have been far more than balanced by the greater
steadiness of prices. But though it were not so, is a sys-
tem that is vitally injurious to the well-being of the com-
manufacture of one commodity opens a mai e munitv to be kept up for the sake of a particular class ?
exchange, that is for the sale ot some o^er commod, y are not to be maintained a.
and no commercial nation has any imB t|lat an artificial elevation by means that depress profits, and
progress of its neighbours. WhaHt has ave- occasion an incessant alternation of glut and scarcity,
the average profits of its capital »ho . , j t contended, when the steam-engine, or when
rage rate of profit in the --roundmg nat 01 s. ^thi^be ^ was not^^^^ wag introdu?ed> that they
the case, its future progiess 1 tl-e’skill indus- should not be employed, because the old clumsy machi-
ultimately languish and da^!ga’ ^Q^be^nmst^imprm^d nery would be superseded, and the capital vested in it
try, and perseverance of aitisans, g^°a cQ^g^aJdy loJ. No such ridiculous notion was ever entertained;
machinery, can permanently bea ^p.< ^ th/t but in what respect would it have been more absurd than
such^fflyiarafice diminution of profit is sure to be produced
only additional one we shall notice, rests on the ground
that, as exclusive advantages are granted to different ma¬
nufactures, agriculture ought in justice to he placed m the
same favoured situation. But it was long ago demon¬
strated that it cannot be for the interest of a state to ma¬
nufacture at home what it may purchase cheaper abroad.
If, therefore, anv of our manuiactures could not exist were
a free trade allowed, it would be for the general advantage
that they were abandoned, and the capital vested in them
employed in some other way. The manufacturers of Glou¬
cestershire, in their resolutions against the corn bill of 1815
-1 • .1 .  &. 4- K r»/-*r^n!00/^onr*0 1T
cheaper rate elsewhere? Why should not the best ma¬
chinery be employed in raising corn as well as in spinning
cotton. If an expenditure of L.1000 suffice to manufac¬
ture cottons or hardware at Glasgow or Birmingham, that
would exchange for 400 or 500 quarters of Polish or Ame¬
rican corn ; and if the same sum, applied directly to the
raising of corn, would not in this country yield more than
250 or 300 quarters, what folly can be greater than to
continue so disadvantageous a production, and to refuse
to buy corn from foreigners with manufactured goods.
Were private interests in such cases not to give way to
cestershire, in their resolutions againsttne corn mu or 101 v> eic y — , , ” m * stnnd
expressed, in the strongest manner, their acquiescence in the general good, society would at once co™e • ’
the doctrine of free trade, and stated their perfect willing- and mere routine take the place of genius and iaJen^ ,
ness to^acrffice whatever exclusive privileges they enjoyed ‘‘ Certainly/’ says Mr Malthu
to the attainment of that desirable object. It is, indeed, defender of the restrictive system, JeS,sla* hs a
beyond all question that a free trade would be very much nothing to do with securing to an3 class 0 ) *
fo/the advantage of all those manufactures of which any particular rate of profits in their different t a •
part is at present exported. The fall it would occasion in not the province of a government; and it is unfortu^
the price of provisions would much more than compensate that any language should have been use ^
any disadvantage that even the silk or linen manufacturers convey such an impression, and make peop
might experience from the gradual withdrawal of their pro- their rulers ought to listen to the accounts 0 g
tectiom
“ Because,” says Mr Ricardo, referring to this argu¬
ment, “ the cost‘of production, and therefore the prices,
of various manufactured commodities, are raised by one
error in legislation, the country has been called upon, on
the plea of justice, quietly to submit to fresh exactions.
Because we all pay an additional price for our linen, mus-
cincl •
The unparalleled weight of our taxation, provided it
be equally imposed, and the comparatively high wages 0
labour in this country, furnish no apology for the restric¬
tive system. Equal taxes affect every part of the com¬
munity, and do not fall heavier on the agriculturists m
on any other class. It is only in the event of taxation
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE. 353
tine i 5
lorn] s'
aten
flam
ds
ie co
■ade.
cal v
lose
le re! f
ic coi
iunit,
being unequal, of its pressing with greater severity on
those engaged in a particular business than on their neigh¬
bours, that it affords an adequate ground for laying a
duty on the importation of the produce of the overtaxed
class, though it can never be a reason why it should be
prohibited. We shall immediately inquire into the de¬
gree of influence that ought to be attached to this prin¬
ciple in legislating as to the importation of corn into Great
Britain.
It is generally alleged that the landlords are interested
in the support of the existing system of corn laws, and
that they would be materially injured by its repeal or
modification. But though it is probable that many land¬
lords are themselves of this opinion, we look upon it as
wholly destitute of foundation. There is not at bottom
any real opposition between the interests of the owners of
land, and those of the other classes. To borrow the just
and forcible expressions of Sir Josiah Child, “ Land and
trade are twins, and have always, and ever will, wax and
wane together. It cannot be ill with land but trade will
feel it, nor ill with trade but land will fall.” To those
only who take a superficial view of the question, their in¬
terests may seent to be opposed ; but those who look ever
so little below the surface, and reflect on the motives
which stimulate the different classes to industry and en¬
terprise, will be satisfied that they are really identical.
What is the genuine, and, indeed, only effectual encou¬
ragement to agriculture? What is it that stimulates the
occupiers to adopt the best system of cultivation, or to
make the ground yield the largest crops? Can any one
doubt that it is the demand of the other classes for their
peculiar products ? Flourishing manufactures and com¬
merce are indispensable to a flourishing agriculture. To
suppose that the latter should exist without the former,
is to suppose that men may be industrious without a mo¬
tive—that there may be an effect without a cause. But
we have seen that every artificial enhancement of the
price of corn lessens the rate of profit, and the power to
accumulate capital, at the same time that it occasions its
transfer to other countries. It must therefore be exceed¬
ingly injurious to tbe buyers of corn, that is, to those
classes whose prosperity is essential to the prosperity of
the agriculturists. Hence it is obvious that any advan¬
tage gained in the first instance by the landlords from the
restriction of importation, can only be evanescent and illu¬
sory. It may be compared to the influence of doses of
brandy or opium on the human body, which, while they
intoxicate and exhilarate, enfeeble and shatter the consti¬
tution, occasioning premature old age and death.
At the time when the law of 1815 was enacted, the
derangement which must always attend a sudden fall of
prices was nearly over. Rents were generally reduced,
a considerable portion of inferior land was sown down
with grass seeds, and wages were on the decline. To
have opened the ports under a reasonable duty would,
in these circumstances, have been attended with very
little inconvenience. Occurrences beyond the reach of
control had paved the way for the introduction of a li¬
beral system of policy, and it must ever be lamented that
the opportunity was not embraced. But the restrictive
system might at present be relinquished with still less
difficulty. It will be immediately seen that prices during
the last six or seven years have been such, that the open-
wg of the ports, with a duty sufficient to balance the ex¬
cess of taxes laid on the agriculturists, would give no
sudden, nor even considerable shock to agriculture, while
it would afford the best attainable security for moderate
pnees, and against injurious fluctuations in future.
When this happy event shall have taken place, it will
be no longer necessary to force nature. The capital and
vol. vn.
enterprise of the country will be turned into those de- Principles
partments of industry in which our physical situation, na- °f the
tional character, or political institutions, fit us to excel. Com Laws.
Ihe corn of Poland and the raw cotton of Carolina will ^
be exchanged for the wares of Birmingham and the mus¬
lins of Glasgow. The genuine commercial spirit, that
which permanently secures the prosperity of nations, is
altogether inconsistent with the dark, selfish, and shallow
policy of monopoly. The nations of the earth are like
provinces of the same kingdom, a free and unfettered in¬
tercourse being productive alike of general and of local
advantage.
Though advocates for the entire repeal of tbe restric-Duties on
five system, and of all regulations framed for the sake ofimporta-
protection, we are not of the number of those who pro- t’on ? P™1*
pose throwing the ports open without any duty. We
should do this if we were satisfied that the agriculturists ourr|lt l()
were not more heavily taxed than tbe other classes; for,imposed,
however heavy, if taxes press equally on all businesses, no
one in particular has any right to be protected more than
others; and to attempt to protect them all would be ab¬
surd. But though the question be by no means free from
difficult}', we incline to think, that owing to the parochial
and other burdens laid on the land, those occupying it are
really subject to heavier taxes than most other classes.
It is very difficult, or rather perhaps impossible, to esti¬
mate with any degree of precision what the excess of taxes
laid on the agriculturists, beyond those laid on manufac¬
turers and merchants, may amount to; but we have else¬
where endeavoured to show, that if we estimate it as mak¬
ing an addition of 6s. or 7s. to the quarter of wheat, we
shall certainly be up to, and most probably beyond the
mark. ( Wealth of Nations, McCulloch’s edition, iv. p.
369.) However, we should in a case of this sort reckon
it safer to err on the side of too much protection, than
of too little, and would not therefore object to a fixed
■duty of 6s. or 7s. a quarter being laid on wheat, and a pro¬
portional duty on other species of grain. Under such a
system the ports would be always open. The duty would
not be so great as to interpose any very formidable ob¬
stacle to importation. Every one would know beforehand
the extent to which it would operate, at the same time
that the just rights and interests of the agriculturists, and
of every other class, would be maintained unimpaired.
It will he seen from No. VIII. of the following accounts,
that the duty actually levied on the very large quantity of
wheat admitted under the present law, has amounted at
an average to 6s. Id. a quarter. Nothing, therefore, can
be a greater error, than to suppose that, with the proposed
constant duty, the importations would be excessive. It
may in fact be doubted whether they would he materially
increased. Additional facilities would be given to the re¬
gular dealer; but the temptation to gambling adventurers
would at the same time be materially diminished.
When a duty is laid on the importation of foreign corn,
for the equitable purpose of countervailing the peculiar
duties laid on the corn raised at home, an equivalent draw¬
back ought to be allowed on its exportation. “ In allow¬
ing this drawback, we are merely returning to the farmer
a tax which he has already paid, and which he must have,
to place him in a fair state of competition in the foreign
market, not only with the foreign producer, but with his
own countrymen who are producing other commodities.
It is essentially different from a bounty on exportation, in
the sense in which the word bounty is usually understood ;
for by a bounty is generally meant a tax levied on the
people for the purpose of rendering corn unnaturally cheap
to the foreign consumer; whereas, what I propose, is to
sell our corn at the price at which we can really afford to
produce it, and not to add to its price a tax which shall
2 Y
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
Trade.
354  I  ■ -I
British induce the foreigner rather to purchase it from some other ^^'^^.^^Tuppo^g thTstoTemaKe “c ,
Corn country, and deprive us of a trade which, unc u 3 ^he average quantity and species of corn consumed
of free competition, we might have selected. (Ricardo aersonScaqn onl/be ascertained by approxima- W'«
on Protection to Agriculture, p. bi.) J i Charles Smith gave a great deal of attention to
A duty accompanied with a drawback, as now stated, ^ im nt investigation {Tracts on the Corn Trade)-
would not only be an equitable anangemen , u ^ ] ;s estimate of our aggregate produce deserves parti-
be highly for the advantage of — ^ngm^ its favi«g bePen eorroborated, I
junous to any one else. The rad^d de , y imp0rtant particulars, by subsequent researches both
shown, of the system followed fiom „(vr;ruiturer is at home and abroad, and from its forming the groundwork
sent moment, in so far at least as ^P6 ^ • d’ 0f almost all the estimates that have been more recently
that it forces up prices in years when the harvesus^de^ ^ the population of Eng]and ^
cient, while it leaves the maiket to be g Wales in 1765 at 6,000,000, Mr Smith reckoned the con-Mr(
abundant. But while » -nstant du y „t 7s would c„ ^ ^ of’gra'in) the quantlty consumed ^
regard 'd^toTheTinterests6 of oXTs 0ShoPu,Tallow them each individual, and hence the whole consumed by man
toSrealise in a bad year, the drawback of 7s., by enabling as fol ows.
them to export in an unusually plentiful year, would pre¬
vent the markets from being overloaded, and prices from
falling to the ruinous extent that they now occasionally
do. Such a plan would render the business of a corn
dealer, and of agriculture, comparatively secure, and would
therefore provide for the continued prosperity of them
both. We are astonished that the agriculturists have not
taken this view of the matter. If they be really entitled
to a duty on foreign corn, on account of their being hea¬
vier taxed than other classes of their fellow-citizens, they
must also be entitled to a corresponding drawback. And
it admits of demonstration that their interests, as well
as those of the community, would be far better promoted
Estimated Popu- Average Con- Consumed
lation of England sumption of by Mm.
and Wales. each Person. Quarters.
3,750,000 consumers of wheat 1 qr. each 3,750,000
739,000 ditto of barley If ditto 1,016,125
888,000 ditto of rye If ditto  999,000
623,000 ditto of oats 2f ditto 1,791,225
Consumed by man 7,556,350
In addition to this, Mr Smith estimated the wheat
distilled, made into starch, &c  90,000
Barley used in malting, &c 3,417,000
as those ot tne community, wuum ue «u ucuci Eve for i10gSj    31,000
by such a duty and drawback as we have suggested, than Qats por horses, &c 2,461,500
they can ever be by any system of mere duties, how high  
soever they may be carried.
The principal objection to this plan is, that it would not
be possible to levy the duty when the home price became
very high, and that consequently every now and then it
would be necessary to suspend it. But this objection
does not seem to be by any means so formidable as it has
sometimes been represented. It may, we think, be con¬
cluded on unassailable grounds, that were the ports con¬
stantly open under a moderate fixed duty and an equiva¬
lent drawback, extreme fluctuations of price would be very
rare. Supposing it were enacted, that when the home
Total of home consumption 13,555,850
Add excess of exports over imports  398,624
13,954,474
Add seed, one tenth  1,395,447
Total growth of all kinds of grain in Eng-) 15349921
land and Wales in 1765 j ’ ’
This estimate, it will be observed, does not include
rare. supposing 11 were enaeieu, uitu. wncu me neme either Scotland or Ireland, and later inquiries have ren
price rises above a certain high level, as 75s., the duty dered it probable that Mr Smith underrated the popula-
should cease, we believe the clause would very seldom tion of England and Wales by nearly a million, iheal-
come into operation; and those who object that it is not lowance for seed is also too small.
fair to the farmers to deprive them of the full advantage Mr Chalmers, availing himself of the information re-Mr al¬
to be derived from the highest prices, should recollect, specting the numbers of the people, furnished under tnemei^
that in matters of this sort it is not always either possible, population act of 1800, estimated the total consumption irai: i
or, if possible, prudent, to carry the soundest principles to of the different kinds of grain in Great Britain at tiat
an extreme length ; and that, generally speaking, the pub- epoch at 27,185,300 quarters, whereof wheat constitute
lie interests will be better consulted by guarding against 7,676,100 quarters. ihe crops of 1800 and ot 8
scarcity and dearth, than by securing at all hazards a being unusually deficient, the importation in these years
 ..1 v, m m-oQi- • hut f'xcludins- these scarci-
   * J O
trifling though just advantage to a particular class.
HI. PRESENT STATE OF THE BRITISH CORN TRADE.
was proportionally great; but excluding these scarci¬
ties, the total average excess of all sorts ot grain im¬
ported from Ireland and foreign countries into Great Bri¬
tain over the exports, had previously amounted to ^out
a million of quarters, which, deducted from 27,185,301,
leaves 26,185,300, to which, if we add one seventh as seed,
Quantity It has sometimes been attempted to estimate the quan-
ofcornpro-tity of corn raised in a country, from calculations founded leaves ..   
duced and on tjie number of acres in tillage, and the average pro- we shall have 29,925,057 quarters as the average grow
consumed duce per acre. But no accurate account can be obtain- of Great Britain in 1800.
Britakfanded °1 ^ie extent of land under cultivation. It is perpe- The population of Ireland amounts at present to a ou
Ireland, tually changing from year to year; and the amount of 8,000,000. The greater portion of its inhabitants are,
produce varies not only with the differences in the sea- it is true, supported by the potato, and seldom or ne^
sons, but with every improvement of agriculture. This taste bread, but we shall probably be within the 1
method, therefore, has been very generally abandoned, we estimate the number of those fed by the various kin s
and statisticians are now in the habit of estimating the of corn (principally oats) at three millions, and the ave-
growth of corn by its consumption. But although this is rage quantity consumed by each individual at two quar-
certainly the preferable mode, still the conclusions to ters. This would give 6,000,000 ot quarters as Hie tota
which it leads are necessarily very loose. The consump- consumption of Ireland. *
tion varies considerably from one year to another, accord- The population of Great Britain has increased, tro
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
about eleven millions in 1800, to about sixteen and a half empire in 1812 and IRIA o* oL * t ^
millions in 1831. Mr Western and Dr Colquhoun con- quarters at ab°Ut thirty-five milll0ns of
curred in estimating the average consumption of the whole The following is Dr Colquhoun’s estimate
Species of Grain.
Wheat  
Barley 
Oats 
Rye 
Beans and Peas.
Totals....
Estimated ave¬
rage of the Po¬
pulation of
Great Britain
and Ireland.
9,000,000
1,500,000
4,500,000
500,000
500,000
16,000,000
Each Per¬
son ave¬
raged.
Consumed by-
Man.
Quarters.
1
H
n
u
Quarters.
9,000,000
1,875,000
6,750,000
625,000
500,000
Consumed by
Animals.
Quarters.
210,000
10,200,000
59,000
1,360,000
Used in
Beer and
Spirits.
Quarters.
4,250,000
Used in va¬
rious Manu-
factures.
Quarters.
170,000
1,000
18,750,000
11,829,000 4,250,000
Dr Colquhoun has made no allowance for seed in this
estimate; and there can be no doubt that he has under¬
rated the consumption of oats by at least half a quarter
in the consumption of each of the 4,500,000 individuals
he supposes fed on them, or by 2,250,000 quarters. Add¬
ing, therefore, to Dr Colquhoun’s estimate 5,500,000
quarters for seed, and 2,250,000 quarters for the deficiency
of oats, it will bring it to 42,750,000 quarters; and taking
171,000
Total of
Quarters.
9,170,000
6,335,000
16,950,000
685,000
1,860,000
35,000,000
the increase of population since 1813 into account, it does
not appear that the annual average consumption of the
different kinds of grain in the united kingdom can now
be estimated at less than forty-four millions of quarters
exclusive of seed, and at fifty-two millions when it is in¬
cluded. Assuming this estimate to be correct, and the
proportion of wheat to amount to ttvelve millions of quar¬
ters, the progressive consumption will be as follows •—
Consumptionof Wheat and other Graininthe United Kingdom, in a Year, Six Months, a Month, a Week, $c.
A year 
Six months....
Three months.
Six weeks 
One month....,
Two weeks 
One week 
One day 
Wheat.
Quarters.
12,000,000
6,000,000
3,000,000
1,500,000
1,000,000
500,000
250,000
35,714
Other Grain.
Quarters.
40,000,000
20,000,000
10,000,000
5,000,000
3,333,333
1,666,666
833,333
119,048
Total.
Quarters.
52,000,000
26,000,000
13,000,000
6,500,000
4,333,333
2,166,666
1,083,333
154,762
q ,7jei°ntal imP°rt« °f foreign corn in 1831 amounted to
3,541,809 quarters, being the largest quantity ever brought
to Great Britain in any one year. Now, as this quantity
does not amount to one fourteenth part of the entire pro¬
duce, it would seem as if the greatest importation could
have but a very slight influence on prices ; but a very large
proportion, we beheve/M% a half, of the entire corn produ¬
ced m the empire is never brought to market, but is partly
consumed by the agriculturists, and partly used as seed,
and m the feeding of farm horses, &c. Hence, if we are
neai ly right in this estimate, it follows that an importation
of 3,500.,000 quarters is really equivalent to about one
seventh part of the produce brought to market in an ave-
rage year, and must consequently have a very material in¬
fluence in. alleviating the pressure of scarcity in a bad
year, and in checking the rise of prices.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
357
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792*
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
Prices of Wheat
at Windsor,
9 Gallons to the
Bushel.
£ s. d.
3 0 6
2 5 8
2 9 0
2 17 0
3 6 0
3 6 6
3 2 0
2 17 8
2 8 0
2 15 0
2 9 6
2 0 8
2 8 6
2 19 0
3 0 6
3 1 0
3 0 6
2 14 0
2 7
2 11
2 15
3 3
3 3
Prices of Wheat
reduced to the
Whichester Bushel
’ of 8 Gallons.
2 15 6
2 10
2 18
2 3
2 12
2 13
2 15
Average of Ten Years
according to the Win¬
chester Bushel of
8 Gallons.
£ s. d.
2 11
2 7 81
2 14 3f
Years.
Prices of Wheat
reduced to the
Winchester Bushel
of 8 Gallons.
Average of Ten Tears
according to the Win¬
chester Bushel of
9 Gallons.
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
£ s. d.
2 14 0
3 15 8
6 7 0
6 8 6
7 2
3
3
3
4
4
3,18 0
3 19 2
5 6 0
0 0
9 6
8 0
3 0
5 12 0
5 8 0
6 8 0
6 0 0
4 5 0
3 16 0
4 2 0
5 16 0
4 18 0
3 18 0
3 16 0
3 110
2 13 0
2 17 0
3 12 0
4 4 0
3 13 0
4 1 21
4 17 6
3 18 8£
I
II.—
From this year inclusive the account at Eton College has been kept according to the bushel of eight gallons,
under the provision of the act 31 Geo. III. cap. 30. sect. 82.
Account of the Average Prices of British Corn per Winchester Quarter, in England and Wales, since
1792, as ascertained by the Receiver of Corn Returns.
Years.
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
Wheat.
s. d.
2 11
8 11
11
14
17
13
10
7
13
18
7
16
0
7
19
13
19
15
6
14
5
8
3 14
3 4
3
4 14
8
2
1
1
3
6
7
3
5
6
1
10
0
3
0
7
2
6
5
9
0
4
15 10
4
13
live.
10
1 15
1 17
2 8
2 7
1 11 11
1 10 11
3 9
16 11
19 9
3 3
1 16 11
17
14
7
7
12
0
2 19
2 9
3
3
2
1
4
4
6
4
9
0
11
15 11
10 7
4 6
1 17 10
2 3 2
2 16 6
2 14 10
2 9 0
Barley.
£ s.
1 6
1 11
d.
9
9
1 12 10
1 17
1 15
1 7
9
16
0
7
1 13
4
10
4
18
18
2
7
7
1
6
18
17
10
13
8
13
6
8
7
9
1
0
0
9
1
10
4
8
6
4
1
3
11
10
6
4
4
3
5
3
6
8
Oats.
£ s. d.
0 17 10
3
0
9
9
0 16 9
0 19 10
1 7 7
1 19 10
16
0
1
3
8
5
8
13
1 12
9
7
4
19
6
3
3
12
6
7
3
9
0
8
1
8
8
4
11
0
5
6
10
6
1
1 12 11
1 9 4
Beans.
11
17
2
6
1 18 10
1 7 6
10
4
9
2
16
14
18
7
3
7
0
0
13
7
12
16
6
16
18
12
3
15
1
7
3
8
4
8
7
5
9
3
8
9
7
10
8
5
7
1
4
0
1
5
Peas.
£
1
1
2
2
2
1
12
18
6
13
3
13
1 13 11
2 5 2
7
7
19
18
0 10
8 4
3 6
15 11
6
0
15
11
13
18
10
1 18 10
18 4
11 5
19 11
16 0
British
Corn
Trade.
358
British
Corn
Trade.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
III.—Account of the Average Prices of British Corn per Imperial Qimi ter, in England and
for Eleven Years ending December 1830, each Year, and in Penods of live Years.
Wales,
Years.
1820.
1821.
1822.
1823.
1824.
Wheat.
d.
67 11
Average of the Five Years..
1825.
1826.
1827.
1828.
1829.
Average of the Five Years.
1830 
56
44
53
64
Jtye.
42
32
d.
0
1
Barley.
57
68
58
56
60
66
62
64
20 11
31 11
41 5
33 8
s. d.
33 10
26 0
21 11
31 7
36 5
Oats.
29 11
42 4
41 2
39 0
34 2
34 10
38
35 10
40
34
36
24
19
18
22
d.
9
6
2
11
24 10
22 0
Beans.
s. d.
43 4
30 11
24
33
40
s. d.
45 10
34
32 10
32 6
35
32
25
26
27
22
22
42 10
25 0
24
44
47
38
36
32
26
35
40
36
45
47
47
40
36
41 11
43
36
39
'om
fade,
'■Vo
N B The Winchester bushel contains 2150-42 cubic inches, while the Imperial bushel contains 2218-192 cubic inches,
N. B The Winchester ^ ^ thirty_second part larger than the former.
IV Account of the Quantity of Wheat and Wheat Flour exported and of Foreign Wheat and Wheat Flour import
iv. Account o v* y ed, in the following years (Winchester Measure).  
Years.
England.
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
Wheat
and Flour
exported.
Foreign
Wheat and
Flour im¬
ported.
Qrs.
14,699
6,857
557
49,056
98,324
90,230
166,615
90,313
96,185
188,332
74,155
83,406
169,680
13,924
76,949
145,191
176,227
174,821
166,490
74,926
22,954
71,800
127,762
83,084
81,633
178,880
157,720
245,865
204,413
142,183
30,315
3,817
18,993
93,971
130,025
Qrs.
400
845
486
5
1
50
2
77
86
1,552
400
16
Years.
Wheat
and Flour
exported.
20
148
12
74,574
40,315
76
4
England.
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
Gt. Britain,
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
Qrs.
202,058
427,199
498,196
153,343
118,170
461,602
580,596
279,542
54,390
45,417
293,260
371,431
231,984
324,839
130,646
266,907
543,387
629,049
947,602
661,416
429,279
299,609
356,270
237,466
102,752
11,545
9,234
227,641
393,614
441,956
295,385
429,538
396,857
167,126
Foreign
Wheat and
Flour im¬
ported.
Qrs.
”7
6
9
16
32
2
5,423
7,568
40
1
2
2
6
385
382
279
3
201
5
141,562
20,353
162
3
56
72
1
104,547
Years.
Wheat
and Flour
exported.
Gt. Britain.
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
Qrs.
164,939
5,071
7,433
49.892
75,449
10,089
6,959
7,637
15,928
91,037
210,664
87,686
141,070
222,261
224,059
103,021
145,152
51,943
89,288
132,685
205,466
120,536
82,971
140,014
30.892
70,626
300,278
76,869
155,048
18,839
24,679
54,525
59,782
39,362
22,013
Foreign
Wheat and
Flour im¬
ported.
Qrs.
11,020
497,905
349,268
4,378
34
2,510
25,474
56,857
289,149
560,988
20,578
233,323
106,394
5,039
3,915
159,866
80,695
584,183
216,947
110,863
51,463
59,339
148,710
112,656
222,557
469,056
22,417
490,398
327,902
313,793
879,200
461,767
396,721
463,185
1,264,520
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
Years.
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
Russia.
Sweden
and
Norway.
Annual
average of
the above
25 years,
Annual
average of
ditto for
wheat,
Do. rye,
Do. barley,
Do. oats,
Do. peas
and beans,
Do. In¬
dian corn, f
204,656
12,870
16,448
8,215
173,874
57,416
6,183
3,664
14,089
66,869
49,597
128,437
64,938
9,760
1,443
24,198
405,933
676,793
543,554
372,169
28,445
22,040
14,568
14,500
26,895
Denmark.
26,375
10,961
540
19,931
25,859
110
: 195
2,348
87,961
40,391
14,919
71.629
30,926
626
660
1,166
2,455
2,255
13,492
Prussia.
2,858
4,284
117,902
53,377
9,968
7,112
46,652
785
8
14,397
9,576
960
987
2,446
428
7,088
3,882
8,619
31,029
52,837
10,284
74,049
1,800
9,027
132,287
45,127
52,302
58,872
18,356
9,250
14,874
149,012
342,213
123,638
147,595
26,778
15,045
6,948
106,998
248,282
67,847
16,324
1,123
18,808
30,672
823
97 I
Germany.
663,584
377,984
171,001
531,364
702,605
90,040
22,890
2,015
316,224
97,886
9,063
133,907
186,241
19,428
94,791
414,947
829,646
323,350
356,288
39,258
28,745
8,743
76,780
217,836
699,340
151,363
161,147
138,810
126,146
108,581
141,537
29,998
169,655
255,475
2,429
619
125,156
116,861
35,279
54,157
253,403
571,864
235,076
218,711
51,540
21,528
4,635
231,430
372,839
The Ne¬
therlands.
351,330
103,194
81,758
170,977
72,516
29,949
237,523
18,137
328,582
436,286
France
and
South of
Europe.
228,584
157,359
5,689
18,718
39,209
7,609
171,103
58,103
5,189
24,839
75,828
7,144
420,009
135,778
118,048
191,141
761,874
193,029
78,813
19,964
3,024
3,896
132,160
63,954
3,223
2,032
1,565
168
2,794
3,790
32,113
11,736
30,848
241,345
5,167
454
United
States of
America.
158,078
56,817
1,690
9,500
84,269
5,802
170,596
79,051
1,189
35,372
92,891
218,215
12,917
102
741
102
1,395
499
372,151
80,820
109,832
4,351
13,475
79,906
250,866
13,206
172,878
98,361
18,097
11,524
1,093
2
45,586
7,209
316,364
187,576
47,654
91,098
38,488
6,242
4,237
33,872
12,903
British
North
American
Colonies,
37,932
24,649
293
1,097
1,953
9,124
816
80,712
74,024
2,431
31
3
201
4,022
67,724
75,172
43,245
21,214
2,250
9,801
27,693
21,506
23,737
25,938
440
23,774
1
3
25
3
25,876
56,617
14,257
40,898
40,916
23,439
209
891
95,059
Other
F oreign
Countries,
Isle of
Man, and
Prize
Corn.
25,627
24,863
10,074
856
1,782
4,576
8,511
5,613
18,996
12,236
20,848
28,465
15,934
17,970
10,112
7,476
6,600
4,077
8,016
8,740
6,484
9,869
12,163
5,000
10,303
9,154
15,227
Ireland,
VI—Account
51
1
697
15
10,363
4,836
1,438
2,194
1,703
151
41
900
467,06
343,548
316,958
306,923
466,947
463,406
656,770
933,658
632,849
430,189
600,268
977,164
812,805
821,192
873,865
699,809
1,207,851
967,861
1,417,120
1,822,816
1,063,089
1,528,153
1,634,024
2,203,962
865,968
187,438
253
33,331
639,857
4,922
167
Years
ending
!0th Oct.
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
°f t''e Tilrr10",0^11 v rtS °f f0m al>,d ?rain' Mcal and Flour> fro"> a|l Countries except
 peland, during the Six Years ending with the 10th of October 1830. 1
Total of Corn and Grain.
From British
Possessions out
of Europe.
Qrs. bush.
64,718 5
41,307 7
63,202 4
20,565 4
9,842 3
50,108 3
From other
Parts.
Qrs.
811,017
1,465,847
3,377,107
606,215
3,153,267
2,171,292
bush.
7
1
1
1
6
3
Total of the Im¬
portations from
all parts except
Ireland.
Qrs.
875,736
1,507,155
3,440,309
626,780
3,163,110
2,221,400
bush.
4
0
5
5
1
7
Total of Meal and Flour.
From British
Possessions out of
Europe.
Cwts. qrs. lbs.
3,135 2 20
11,053 0 12
12,657 3 24
23,603 1 12
6,159 1 10
48,561 3 1
From other Parts.
Cwts. qrs. lbs.
83,878 0 17
31,166 0 9
115,664 1 20
124,651 3 20
459,137 0 3
550,208 0 3
Total of the Im¬
portations from all
parts except
Ireland.
Cwts.
87,013
42,219
128.322
148,255
465,296
598,769
qrs. lbs.
3 9
0 21
1 16
1 4
1 13
3 4
359
ish V. Account specifying the total Quantities of all sorts of Grain imported into Grent Ttn'fo'r, c rm * /-<
, tries in each Year, from 1801 to 1825 both inclusive; the average Quantity of all sorts of U ^ dff,ent C°Un- ^
le- Quantity of each particular species of Grain, as Wheat Rye Bariev Ac imnn t °f ^ ai^’ fnd t,ie average Corn
^ from each different Country, in Winchester Quarters ^ * P ‘ed m each of the above Yeare>
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE
360
British
Corn
Trade.
\
—-pimir Bariev, Oats, Oatmeal, and all other sorts of Grain,
VII,—Account of the Quantities of Wheat, Wheatmeal ’ J- with the 10th October 1830, in Imperial
imported from Ireland into Great Britain during the Ten Years g
Quarters and Cwts.
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
Qrs. bus.
501,992 6
378,417 3
357,480 0!
178,792 4
346.584 6
205,150 6
249,684 3
474,977 5
379,105 6
347,686 4
Qrs. bus.
94,605 5
27,982 6
24,099 4
29,703 0
119,698 1
85,766 4
64,410 4
94,996 3
60,018 5
157,197 4
Qrs. bus.
1,093,871 0
668,772
943,643
1,027,533
1,543,574
1,101,655
1,006,207
1,917,933
1,417,355
1,299,714
Cvvts.
271,441
306,987
408,171
240,703
418.104
298,756
280,553
631,427
597,049
705,575
lbs.
5
0
8
24
0
0
8
12
4
11
Cwts. qrs. lbs.
73,070 3 18
20,950 1 20
102,527 1 4
98,719 0 16
200,960 1 2
177,615
176,143
445,201
353,614
3 6
3 6
l 16
3 4
390,552 0 2
Qrs. bus
1,701,447 7
1,082,225 6
1,332,219 0
1,241.987 0
2,028,899 7
1,407,831 2
1,327,748 6
2,507,226 3
1,872,249 5
1,834,032 1
Cwts. qrs. lbs.
345,086 3 23
327,937
510,699
339,422
619,064
476,372
456,776
1,076,851
952,194
1,096,381
1 20
0 12
1 12
3 2
1 6
0 14
1
0
0 13
c T7 • wViont tint have paid Duty for Consumption in the United King-
VIII.—Account of the total Quarters of Foreign Whe ^ to ^ July 1831) and the total Amount of
dom, under 9 Geo. IV. c. 60 since that Act ca of Quarters, and the total Amount of Duty so re-
Duty received thereon ; and showing, from the ^ ^ Avera for this whole period: the same Account
ceived thereon, what the Duty was equal to peiQt , l Oatmeal, and Maize or Indian Corn, Buckwheat,
for Foreign Barley, Rye, Peas, and Beans, Wheat 1 d i ^ im d from any British Possession in
Beer or Big: and the same Account for all pro Sess. 1831.)
North America or elsewhere out of Europe, (i arl. raper, o /  
Species.
Foreign Corn, JMeal, and Flour.
Corn, Meal, and Flour, the Produce of, and
imported from, British Possessions out of
Europe.
Wheat 
Barley 
Oats 
Rye 
Peas 
Beans   
Maize or Indian Corn
Buckwheat 
Beer or Big 
Qualities en¬
tered for Home
Consumption,
from 15th July
1828 to 1st July
1831.
Quarters.
4,620,029
916,252
1,158,934
140,639
145,089
154,416
93,791
34,034
Amount of
Duty received
thereon.
Total of Corn 
Wheatmeal and Flour.
Oatmeal 
Total of Meal and Flour...
7,263,184
Cwt.
1,812,905
2*
0n-
Hates of tered for Home
Duty paid Consumption,
on the Total from 15th July
Quantities jl828 to 1st July
consumed. 1831.
1,389,290
198,880
320,320
26.223
54,893
79,532
17,523
10,290
Per Qr.
s. d.
2,096,951
156,381
1
l,812,907d
156,382
6
4
5
3
7
10
3
6
Quarters.
130,481
Amount of
Duty received
thereon.
Average
Rates of
Duty paid on
the Total
Quantities
consumed.
Per Cwt.
1 9
7 6
1,996
*4,9io
111
£
7,492
53
’507
"i
137,3981
Cwt.
88,870
521
89,391
8,054
2,504
9
Per Qr.
s. d.
1 2
o'”6
2'"l
S' 9
Per Cwt.
0 7
0 4
2,513
] Eish
m
vie.
V0L. VII.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
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361
British
Corn
Trade.
2 z
362
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
Foreign X.—Account of the Value of Foreign Corn and Meal imported eac^ \parl 1
Com to 5th January 1832; distinguishing the amount imported from the britisti colonies [
Trade. Paper, No. 423, Sess. 1832.)
Official Value of Corn and Meal imported into Great Britain.
From the British
Colonies.
£
1
43
6
41,258
85,296
3,616
63,587
58,539
34,423
303
1,402
146,741
44,792
91,232
31,706
19,275
124,695
366,421
s. d.
0 1
16 10
15 2
10 1
8 1
8 10
12 2
12 6
4 1
4 4
4 7
1 2
13 11
0 11
From Ireland.
£
709,137
683,556
656,248
482,980
820,816
728,927
1,261,517
1,657,464
1,089,226
1,294,679
1,315,701
1,700,963
1,329,004
1,485,235
2,315,170
1,866,890
1,849,167
1,965,640
6
11
13
0
13
14
2
15
d.
9
7
1
3
5
4
4
3
14 1
14 4
12 6
17 11
13 3
6 1
12 1
5 7
12 11
8 2
From other parts.
£
1,216,701
400,161
409,165
2,159,374
3,836,642
1,614,439
1,333,324
228,384
89,733
55,166
454,887
881,602
2,072,597
1,902,982
1,641,216
3,481,157
3,131,660
4,304,511
s. d.
2 4
16 3
10 8
8 11
13 9
18 3
10 4
19 3
13 2
4 11
14 11
8 1
12 3
1 2
14 2
12 2
15 9
9 2
Total.
£
1,925,845
1,083,761'
1,065,420
2,683,612
4,742,755
2,346,984
2,658,429
1,944,389
1,213,383
1,350,149
1,771,191
2,829,307
3,446,394
3,479,449
3,988,093
5,367,322
5,105,524
6,636,572
s. d.
9 2
10 10
9 10
10 8
14 7
9 5
7 10
4 7
15
8
19
18
9
11
10 10
18 11
2 7
18 3
IV. PRESENT STATE OF THE FOREIGN CORN TRADE.
Polish corn 1. Polish Corn Trade. Dantzic is the port whence we
trade. have always been accustomed to import the largest sup¬
plies of corn ; and it would seem fully established by the
data collected by Mr Jacob in his tours, that 28s. or 80s.
a quarter is the lowest price for which any considerable
quantity of wheat for exportation can be permanently
raised in the Corn-growing provinces in the vicinity of
Warsaw. Its minimum cost price, when brought to Lon¬
don, according to Mr Jacob, would be as under:
s. d.
0
Cost of wheat at Warsaw, per quarter . ...28
Conveyance to the boats, and charges for loading
and stowing, and securing it by mats 0
Freight to Dantzic    o
Loss on the passage by pilfering, and rain causing it
to grow   ^
Expenses at Dantzic in turning, drying, screening,
and warehousing, and loss of measure 2
Profit or commission, as the case may be, to the
merchant at Dantzic... 1 6
Freight, primage, insurance, and shipping charges at
Dantzic and in London 8 0
Cost of the wheat to the English merchant, 48 0
It ought, however, to be observed, that the premium
paid the underwriters does not cover the risk attending
damage from heating or otherwise on the voyage; and it
ought further to be observed, that the freight from War¬
saw to Dantzic, and from Dantzic home, is here charged
at the lowest rate. Mr Jacob supposes that an extraor¬
dinary demand for as much wheat as would be equal to
twelve days’ supply of the markets of England,1 or for
about 216,000 quarters, would raise the cost of freight on
the Vistula from thirty to forty per cent.; and as such
a demand could hardly be supplied without resoiting to
the markets south of Warsaw, its minimum cost to the
London merchants could not, under such circumstances,
amount, even supposing some of these statements to be a
little exaggerated, to less than from 50s. to 53s. or 55s. a
quarter. . , . „
It appears from the consular returns, that the price of
wheat per W inchester quarter, at Dantzic, in November
and December 1830, was 35s. 4d. The exports of grain
from the port during that year were:
Total quarters. Quarters.
Wheat...404,000, of which for England....311,000
Rye  86,000    T*500
Barley... 7,500  2>700
{Pari. Paper, No. 72, Sess. 1831.)
WTe subjoin an account, furnished by Mr Jacob, of the
total annual average quantity of wheat and rye exported
from Dantzic, in the periods of twenty-five years each, tor
the 166 years ending with 1825.
Years.
Wheat.
Rye.
Total.
1651 to 1675
1676—1700
1701—1725
1726—1750
1751—1775
1776—1800
1801—1825
Quarters.
81,775
124,897
59,795
80,624
141,080
150,299
200,330
Quarters.
225,312
227,482
170,100
119,771
208,140
103,045
67,511
Quarters.
307,087
352,379
229,895
200,395
349,220
253,344
267,841
« The average of the whole period,” Mr Jacob observes,
“ gives an annual quantity of wheat and rye, of 279,/ J*
quarters; and this surplus may be fairly considered as the
nearest approach that can be made, with existing inate-
i It is necessary, as already observed, to distinguish between the supply of the markets and the entire consumption of the kingdom.
The latter is most probably equal to at least twice the former.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
363
'•i'
Frn
ide.
rials, to what is the usual excess of the produce of bread
corn above the consumption of the inhabitants when no
extraordinary circumstances occur to excite or check cul¬
tivation.” (Report, p. 49.)
We, however, have been assured by gentlemen well
acquainted with the country traversed by the Vistula,
thafwere the free importation of corn under a duty of
6s. or 7s. permitted in England, the exports from Dant-
zic might be fairly estimated at from 350,000 to 450,000
quarters.
Mr Grade of Dantzic furnished the committee of 1821
with the following table of the average prices of corn at
that city, free on board, in decennial periods, from 1770
to 1820.
Average Price from Ten to Ten Years, of the different species
of Corn, free on hoard, per Quarter, in Sterling Money,
at Dantzic.
From 1770 to 1779
1780—1789
1790—1799
1800—1809
1810—1819
Aggregate average)
price of 49 years,)
Wheat
s. d.
33 9
33 10
43 8
60 0
55 4
45 4
live.
d.
21 8
22 1
26 3
34 10
31 1
Barley.
s. d.
16 1
17 11
19 3
25 1
26 0
27 2 i 20 10
Oats.
s. d.
11 1
12 4
12 6
13 1
20 4
13 10
Hijurg
coc rade.
In 1823, 1824, and 1825, prices, owing to the cessation
of the demand from England, were very much depressed ;
but during the last three years they have recovered their
former elevation. In September 1830 the best high mixed
wheat cost 44s. to 48s. free on board, and the ordinary
from 34s. to 37s.; so that it could not, allowing for freight
and a duty of 6s. or 7s. a quarter, be sold in this country
in ordinary years for less than 56s. a quarter.
2. Corn Trade of the Elbe, §c. Next to Dantzic, Ham¬
burg is perhaps the greatest corn market in the north of
Europe, being a depot for large quantities of Baltic corn,
and for the produce of the countries traversed by the
Elbe. But the excess of wheat exported from Hamburg
over that which is imported, is less than might have been
expected, and amounted, at an average of the ten jTars
ending with 1825, to only 48,263 quarters a year. The
average price of wheat at Hamburg, during the six years
ending with 1822, was 47s. 4d. a quarter. Bohemian
wheat is occasionally forwarded by the river to Ham-
huig; but the charges attending its conveyance from
Prague amount, according to Mr Jacob, to full 17s. a
quarter, and prevent its being sent down, except when
the price is comparatively high. We, however, are inclin¬
ed to think that Mr Jacob has underrated the supplies of
tv eat that might be obtained from Hamburg were our
poits constantly open under a reasonable duty. In 1830
s^pped from Hamburg for British ports
•D M00 quarters of wheat, 1900 of rye, 18,200 of barley,
an 800 of oats. Prices that year were lower than at
antzic, but the quality of the grain is inferior.
Hr Jacob mentions, that the quantity of wheat export¬
ed from Denmark in the six months which followed the
abundant harvest of 1824 amounted to only 57,561 quar¬
ters; and he doubts whether there were 20,000 quarters
TITSa0rtInJthatkingdom in October 1825- (Report, p. 10.)
n oubtedly, however, a greater quantity of grain would
nnp°. aij kr0m ■b)enrnark were our ports constantly
ihnnf PerbaPs ,we might, did our prices average
0s. import in ordinary years from 250,000 to
Trade.
300,000 quarters of wheat from Denmark and the coun- Foreign
tries intersected by the Weser and the Elbe. Corn
Amsterdam is merely a depot, though a very important
one, for foreign corn; a small part only of its consump¬
tion is supplied from corn of the growth of Holland, so
that prices there are for the most part dependent upon
the prices at Dantzic and the other great northern mar¬
kets.
3. French Corn Trade. It appears from the accounts French
given by the Marquis Gamier, in the last edition of his corn trade,
translation of the Wealth of Nations, that the price of the
hectolitre of wheat at the market of Paris amounted, at an
average of the nineteen years beginning with 1801 and
ending with 1819, to 20 fr. 53 cents, which is equal to 30 fr.
80 cents the septier; or, taking the exchange at 25 fr. to
45s. 6d. the quarter. Count Chaptal, in his valuable work
Sur FIndustrie Fran^oise, tom. i. p. 226, published in 1819,
estimates the ordinary average price of wheat through¬
out France at 18 fr. the hectolitre, or 42s. lOd. the quar¬
ter. The various expenses attending the importation of a
quarter of French wheat into London may be taken at a
medium at about 6s. a quarter. France, however, has
very little surplus produce to dispose of; so that it would
be impossible for us to import any considerable quantity
of French corn without occasioning a great advance of
price; and in point of fact our imports from France have
been at all times quite inconsiderable.
I lie mean of the different estimates framed bv Vau-
ban, Quesnay, Expilly, Lavoisier, and Arthur Young, gives
61,519,672 septiers, or 32,810,000 quarters, as the total
average growth of the different kinds of grain in France.
(Peuchet Statistique Elementaire, p. 290.) We, however,
took occasion in a former article on this subject to ob¬
serve, that there could not be a doubt that this estimate
was a great deal too low; and the more careful inves¬
tigations of late French statisticians fully confirm this
remark. It is said that the mean annual produce of the
harvests of France, at an average of the four years ending
with 1828, amounted to 60,533,000 hectolitres of whea£
and 114,738,000 ditto of other sorts of grain, making in
all 175,271,000 hectolitres, or 62,221,205 Winchester
quarters. Of this quantity it is supposed that sixteen per
cent, is consumed as seed, nineteen per cent, in feeding
different species of animals, and two per cent, in distilled
ries and breweries, fBulletin des Sciences Geographiques,
tom. xxv. p. 34.) This estimate is believed to be pretty
nearly accurate ; perhaps, however, it is still rather under
the mark.
The foreign corn trade of France has been regulated
during the last few years by a law which forbids exporta¬
tion except when the home prices are below certain li¬
mits, and restrains and absolutely forbids importation
when they are above certain other limits. The prices re¬
gulating importation and exportation differ in the three
different districts into whiclvjhe kingdom is divided; and
it has not unffequently happened that corn warehoused
at a particular port where it was either not admissible at
all, or not admissible except under payment of a high
duty, has been carried to another port in another district,
and admitted duty free. But by an ordinance dated the
2d June 1831, some of the regulations in this law were
suspended ; and it is believed that a new law will speedily
be enacted, admitting importation at all times under a
graduated duty.
4. Spanish Corn Trade. The exportation of corn from Spanish
Spain was formerly prohibited under the severest penal-corn trade,
ties. But in 1820 grain and flour were both allowed to be
freely exported, and in 1823 this privilege was extended
to all productions (frutos) the growth of the soil. There
is now in fact no obstacle whatever, except the expense
364
Foreign
Corn
Trade.
CORN LAWS AND CORN TRADE.
tlmt nrices in America are usually higher than in the Bal- Fo
of carriage, to the conveyance of corn to the sea-po , tl t ^ ^ ]ittle can be brought from the former ex- C,;
and thence to the foreigner. Owing, however, to the co > the demand is sufficient previously to take off T
growing provinces being principally situated ^ the m e- thPtche wheats of the northern ports. The usual price
rior, and to the extreme badness of the roadJ» ^h re ti^ ^ Canada) when there is a demand for the Eng-
ders carriage to the coast both expensive and ddhcult niarket> is about 40s. a quarter; but taking it as low
nrp rnmnarativelv trifling; this difficulty qt ca , . lf) a auarter as the expenses of
exports are comparatively trifling; this difficulty ot car- quarter as the expenses of
riage frequently gives rise to very great differences of p carri it win make its cost price in Liverpool 45s.; and
at places in all parts of the country only a few leagues . . ° valnnhlp. hv ahnnt fia a
being °spring wheat, it is not so valuable, by about 6s. a
of Odessa! 5* ^ o/ Odessa^on ^e. ^Wemay therefore concl
tlrntThefenility of^ the soil in its vif OTclbar/year^be ies“s than 48s. a quarter, and would most
exaggerated; but the wheat shipped at Odessa is pm e ' J _ from 50s. t0 55s.
pally brought from Volhynia and the 1 ^ P^1 1 Nowft appears, from the official accounts laid before the
the south of Cracow, the supphes from which a House of ^mmonS) that the average price of wheat in
tible of an indefinite increase. Owing to the ‘ of En land and Waies, for the ten years ending with 1829,
the Dnieper, and the Dniester having a S^eat n am°unted to 58s. 4ld. a quarter; and lest we should be
shallows, most part of the corn brought to Ode of overstating the ordinary importation prme of
by land carriage. The expense of th s mode o ^y ^ wheat, we shall estimate it at the low rate of only
ance is not, however, nearly so gieat as mig P f tbat provided it were burdened, as we have al-
posed. The carts with corn are take adl ready show^ i? ought to be, with a fixed duty of 7s. a
the oxen are pastured during the night, a^d tl ey it might still be sold at an average price of 53s.;
vantage of the period when the peasantry are not occu quarter, g   ui„ u.,^fLoc;0
pied with the harvest, so that the charge on account of
conveyance is comparatively trifling. Odessa •
Both soft and hard wheat are exported fiom Odessa,
but the former, which is by far the most abundant is only
brought to England. Supposing British wheat to sell a
about 60s. Odessa wheat in good order would not be
worth more than 52s. in the London market, but t is a
curious fact, that in the Mediterranean the estimation m
which they are held is quite the reverse; at Malta, Mar
seilles, Leghorn, &c. Odessa wheat fetches a decidedly ^ ^ ^     
higher price than British wheat. - g ^ ^ Waleg in 1802j 1803, and 1804, years of decided
The hard wheat brought from t pries of agricultural improvement, was exactly 61s. a quarter, being
principally from Taganrog. It is a very A"® sPe^ » g <)3. above its probable future average price un-
grain it is full ten per cent, heavier than British wheat, on y Hs. or Js an t cheapness oflabour,
Ld has less than half the bran. It ;s .used m My for free system ^wb^^^g mie jn
making macaroni and vermicelli, and things of • ^d^^^ wou]d enable corn to be raised
Very little of it has found its way to England. . tho same soils at a much less expense in this than in
The voyage from Odessa to Britain is of uncertain du- ^ said that even 1823 was by
ration, but generally very long. It is essenta an ^eans an unfavourable year for the farmer; and yet
portation of wheat in a good condition, that wflS then onlv 51s. 9d., being at least Is.
made during the winter months. When the voyage is
quarter, it migut t>uu uc — qo- .* ’
and even on this most reasonable hypothesis, there is no
p-round whatever to suppose, in the event of the ports being
thrown open, that prices would be reduced more than 5s.
or 6s. a quarter below the average of the last ten years.
We feel pretty confident that the statements now made
cannot be controverted; and they show conclusively how
erroneous it is to suppose that the repeal of the existing
corn laws, and the opening of the ports for importation,
under a duty of 7s. would throw a large proportion of qur
cultivated lands into pasture, and cause a ruinous decline
in the price of corn. The average price of wheat m Eng-
made in summer, unless the wheat be very superior, and
be shipped in exceedingly good order, it is almost suie to
heat, and has sometimes indeed been injured to suclva
degree as to require to be dug from the hold with pick-
axes. Unless, therefore, some means can be devised
for lessening the risk of damage during the voyage, there
is little reason to think that Odessa wheat will ever be
largely imported into Britain. (See the evidence ot J. H.
Lander, Esq. and J. Schneider, Esq. before the Lords
committee of 1827, on the price of foreign corn.)
The entire expense of importing a quarter ot wheat
from Odessa to London may be estimated at from 16s. to
19s. In December 1830 prices at Odessa varied from
22s. 4d. to 34s. 6d. a quarter.
American 6. American Corn Trade. The prices of wheat at New
corn trade.york ancl Philadelphia may be taken at an average at
from 37s. to 40s. a quarter; and as the cost of importing
a quarter of wheat from the United States to England
amounts to from 8s. to 12s. it is seen that no considei-
able supply could be obtained from that quarter were our
prices under 50s. or 52s. It ought also to be remarked,
cliiy iiic;aiio cin ~ v..-   j — _ , _ . i .i
the average price was then only 51s. 9d., being at least Is.
a quarter less.than its future probable average price under
the system we have ventured to propose. The landlords
and formers may therefore take courage. Their prosperity
does not depend on restrictive regulations, but is the re¬
sult of the fertility of the soil which belongs to them, ot
the absence of all oppressive feudal privileges, and ot the
number and wealth of the consumers of their produce.
The unbounded freedom of the corn trade would no ren¬
der it necessary to abandon any but the most worthies
soils, which ought never to have been broken up, and
would consequently have but a very slight effect on lent,
while it would be in other respects supremely advanta¬
geous to the landlords, whose interests are closely iden¬
tified with those of the other classes.
These details with respect to the foreign corn trade have
been extracted from the Corn Trade and Corn Laws m
M‘Culloch’s Commercial Dictionary, first edition. In m
reader will find accounts specifying the different items
chargeon the importation of corn from DantziCjU essa, •>
and to it he is referred for further particulars, (c. cv
COR
Co:
Cor
CORNAGE, an ancient tenure, the service of which
was to blow a horn when any invasion of the Scots was
nerceived. This tenure was very frequent in the northern
counties, near the Pictish wall; but by the statute 12 Car.
II all tenures are converted into free and common soc-
c^'o-e. An old rental calls cornage newt-geldt, or neat-geldt.
Lord Coke says, in old books it is called horngeld.
CORNARISTS, in ecclesiastical history, the disciples
of Theodore Cornhert, an enthusiastic secretary of the
states of Holland, who wrote at the same time against the
Catholics, Lutherans, and Calvinists. He maintained that
every religious communion needed reformation; but he
added, that no person had a right to engage in accom¬
plishing it without a mission supported by miracles. He
was also of opinion that a person might be a good Chris¬
tian without being a member of any visible church.
CORNARIUS, or Haguenbot, John, a celebrated
German physician, born at Zwickow, in Saxony. His pre¬
ceptor made him change his name of Haguenbot to that
of Cornarius, under which he is best known. At twenty
years of age he taught grammar, and explained the Greek
and Latin poets and orators to his scholars; and at twenty-
three he became licentiate in medicine. He found fault
with most of the remedies provided by the apothecaries;
and observing that the greater part of the physicians
taught their pupils only what is to be found in Avicenna,
Rhasis, and other Arabian physicians, he carefully sought
for the writings of the best physicians of Greece, and em¬
ployed about fifteen years in translating them into Latin,
especially the works of Hippocrates, Aetius, Eginetes, and
part of those of Galen. Meanwhile he practised physic
with reputation at Zwickow, Frankfort, Marpurg, Nord-
hausen, and Jena, where he died of apoplexy in 1558,
aged fifty-eight. He also wrote some medical treatises ;
published editions of some poems of the ancients on me¬
dicine and botany; and translated some of the works of
the fathers, particularly those of Basil, and part of those
of Epiphanius.
CORNARO, Luigi, a Venetian of noble extraction,
memorable for having lived in a healthful and active con¬
dition till above a hundred years of age, in consequence of
observing a rigid course of temperance. By the ill conduct
of some of his relations he was deprived of the dignity of
nobility in Venice; and seeing himself excluded from all
employments under the republic, he settled at Padua. In
his youth he was of a weak constitution, and by irregular
indulgence had reduced himself, at about forty years of age,
to the brink of the grave, under a complication of disorders.
When at this extremity, he was told that he had no other
chance for his life but by becoming sober and temperate.
Being wise enough to adopt the wholesome counsel given
him, he reduced himself to a regimen of which there are
very few examples. Heallowed himself nomore than twelve
ounces ot food and fourteen ounces of liquor each day;
which became so habitual to him, that when he was above
seventy years of age, the experiment of adding two ounces
to each by the advice of his friends, had like to have prov¬
ed fatal to him. At eighty-three he wrote a treatise which
has been translated into English, and often printed, en¬
titled Sure and certain Methods of attaining a Long and
Healthful Life; in which he relates his own story, and
extols temperance with becoming enthusiasm. At length
the yolk of an egg became sufficient for a meal, and some¬
times for two, until he died, with much composure, at Pa¬
dua, in 1566. A writer in the Spectator (No. 195) confirms
the fact from the authority of the Venetian ambassador at
that time, who was a descendant of the Cornaro family.
CORNEILLE, Peter, the celebrated dramatic author,
''as born at Rouen in the year 1606. He was educated
lor the bar, which he soon abandoned for pursuits more
COR 365
congenial to his taste. A little amorous adventure first Corneille,
developed his poetical talent, the incidents of which are
said to have formed the groundwork of Melite, his first
comedy, which contains some ingenious comic combina¬
tions, and met with extraordinary success. Melite was
succeeded by several other pieces which seemed to indi¬
cate no great power; but the genius of Corneille sudden¬
ly took a loftier flight, and produced the tragedy of Me-
dee. His fame, however, was not completely established
till the appearance of the Cid in 1637, which at once
placed him in the first rank of dramatic writers, and drew
down the envy and persecution of Richelieu, who was as
despotic in the realm of criticism as in that of state policy.
But the cardinal found taste to be more stubborn than
politics; and the man who swayed kingdoms could not
crush the fame of a poet. The Cid was so universally
admired, that it became proverbial to say of any thing
beautiful, Cela est beau comme le Cid. This excellent tra¬
gedy was followed by the Horace, Cinna, Pompee, Poli~
eucte, the comedy of Le Menteur, and numerous other
dramatic pieces. Corneille, wdio is said to have been of
a devout and melancholy cast, wrote a translation in verse
of Kempis’ Imitation of Jesus Christ, and some smaller
poems. He died dean of the French Academy in 1684,
aged seventy-eight years.
From the appearance of the Cid the literary age of
Louis XIV. dates its commencement; and to Corneille
is generally assigned the honourable title of the inventor
of dramatic art in France, which was afterwards so suc¬
cessfully cultivated by Racine, Voltaire, and Moliere. His
best works display forcible conception and delineation of
character. He raises sentiment into true poetical pathos
and sublimity, and exhibits the contending passions, affec¬
tions, and interests of human nature in all their turbulence
and impotency, with great vigour of thought and expres¬
sion. Many of his descriptive passages are marked with
singular beauty; his dialogues are skilfully conducted,
giving rise to bold declamation, replete with rich imagery,
and glowing with fervour and energy. The vividness with
which some of the replies are made has not perhaps been
equalled by any writer, ancient or modern. The cele¬
brated exclamation of the elder Horace, quil mourut, is a
well-known illustration of this peculiar quality in the col¬
loquial power of Corneille. His style is occasionally ra¬
ther formal and pompous, and his sentiments forced and
even refined. But in general he is true to nature, and
few writers have been more successful in re-animating
and reproducing on the stage the heroes of antiquity.
The tragedies of Corneille contain some of the best spe¬
cimens of chaste diction, and varied and harmonious ver¬
sification, which are to be found in the French language.
The dramatic works of Corneille, with commentaries by
Voltaire, were published at Geneva in 1764, in 12 vols»
8vo. This edition has been several times reprinted. An
edition of his whole works, with observations by Palissot,
was published at Paris in 1802, in ten large octavo vo¬
lumes. (z. z.)
Corneille, Thomas, brother of the former, was a mem¬
ber of the French academy, and of that of inscriptions.
He discovered in his youth a great inclination to poetry,
and at length published several dramatic pieces, in five
vols. 12mo, some of which were applauded by the public,
and acted with success. He also wrote, 1. A Translation
of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and some of Ovid’s Epistles,
Paris, 1669 and 1670; 2. Remarks of Vaugelas on the
French Language, Paris, 1687, in 2 vols. l2mo ; 3. A Dic¬
tionary of Arts and Sciences, 2 vols. folio, Paris, 1694,
1720, and 1732; 4. An Universal Geographical and His¬
torical Dictionary, in 3 vols. folio, Paris, 1708; and some
other works.
366 COR
Corneille Corneille, Michael, a celebrated painter, was born at
II Paris in the year 1642, and instructed by his father, who
Cornu was himself a painter of great merit. Having gained a
Ammonis. prjze at t]ie academy, young Corneille obtained a pension
from Louis XIV. and was sent to Rome, where that prince
had founded a school for young artists of genius. Having
studied there for some time, he gave up his pension, and
applied with great industry to the study of the antique.
He is said to have equalled Caracci in drawing, but in co¬
louring he was deficient. Upon his return from Rome he
was chosen professor in the academy of Paris, and was em¬
ployed in all the great works then carrying on at Versailles
and Trianon, where are still to be seen some cherts of us
genius. 4 . ,,
CORNELIA, daughter of Scipio Africanus, was the
mother of Tiberius and Caius Gracchus. She was court¬
ed by a king, but she preferred being the wife of a Roman
citizen to that of a monarch. Her virtues have been de¬
servedly commended, as well as the wholesome pnncip es
which she inculcated on her two sons. When a Campanian
lady once made a show of her jewels at Cornelia s house,
and entreated the latter to favour her with a sight of her
own, Cornelia produced her two sons,, saying, “ These are
the only jewels of which I can boast.
CORNET, in the military system of the ancients, an
instrument of the nature of a trumpet, upon the sounding
of which the ensigns were to march without the soldiers;
whereas, when the trumpet sounded, the soldiers were to
move forward without the ensigns, ihe comets and buc-
cinse sounded the charge and retreat, and the cornets and
trumpets sounded during the course of the battle.
Cornet, in modern military economy, denotes an offi¬
cer in the cavalry who bears the standard or colours of a
troop or squadron.
The cornet is the third commissioned officer in the com¬
pany, and commands in the absence of the captain and lieu¬
tenant. He takes his title from his ensign, which is square;
and he is supposed to be called by the name of cornet, from
cornu, because placed on the wings, which form the points
or horns of the army. Others derive the name from core-
net, alleging that it was the ancient custom for these offi¬
cers to wear coronets or garlands on their heads.
CORNEUS, the name which Linnaeus gives to a kind
of tin ore, found in black columns, with irregular sides,
and terminating in prisms.
CORNICULARIUS, \\\ Antiquity, an officer in the Ro¬
man army, whose business was to assist the military tri¬
bune in quality of lieutenant.
The cornicularii went the rounds instead of the tribune,
visited the watch, and were nearly what adjutants are in
modern armies.
The denomination cornicularius was given them from a
little horn, called corniculum, which was used in giving
orders to the soldiers; but Salmasius derives it from
corniculum, the crest of a head-piece, as they wore iron or
brass horns on their helmets, which were called cornicula.
In the Notilia Imperii we find mention made of a kind
of secretary or register of the same name. His business
was to attend the judge, and to enter down his sentiments
and decisions. The critics derive the word in this sense
from corniculum, a little horn to contain ink.
CORNU. See Horn.
Cornu Ammonis, in Natural History, fossil shells, call¬
ed also serpent-stones or snake-stones. They are found of
all sizes, from the breadth of a sixpence to more than two
feet in diameter, and a few even larger; some of them
rounded, others greatly compressed, and lodged in differ¬
ent strata of stones and clays; some again are smooth,
and others variously ridged, their striae and ridges being
either straight, irregularly-crooked, or undulated.
COR
CORNUCOPIA, among the ancient poets, a horn out )L^
of which proceeded plenty of all things; and, by a parti- O
cular privilege which Jupiter granted his nurse, supposed
to be the goat Amalthsea. The interpretation of the fa¬
ble is, that in Libya there is a little territory, shaped not
unlike a bullock’s horn, and exceedingly fertile, which was
given by King Ammon to his daughter Amalthaea, whom
the poets feign to have been Jupiter’s nurse.
In Architecture and Sculpture, the cornucopia, or horn
of plenty, is represented under the figure of a large horn,
out of which issue fruits, flowrers, and the like. On
medals, Joubert observes, the cornucopia is given to all
deities.
CORNWALL is the most westerly county in England,
and stretches also farthest to the south. It is bounded on
all sides by the sea, except on the east, where it meets
Devonshire in a few places, and is separated from it, for
the most part, by the river Tamar. From this last boun¬
dary its breadth is diminished till it terminates on the j
west at the Land’s End, in west longitude 6°, and on the I
south at the Lizard Point, in north latitude 49° 57' 30".
assuming somewhat of the form of a cornucopia; its boun¬
daries, the Bristol Channel on the north and the English
Channel on the south, meeting in a point at the promon¬
tory on the west. It is situated in the diocese of Exeter,
belongs to the western circuit, extends over 758,484 acres,
or a little more than 1185 square miles, and contains nine
hundreds, 201 parishes, twenty-three market towns, and, in
1811, 216,667 inhabitants, being nearly 183 to the square 1
mile, or about one individual for every three acres and a
half. The ivaste lands are about one filth of the whole.
The surface is very irregular, ascending and descending
in rapid succession. The interior is high and generally I
unfertile, consisting for the most part of rugged heaths
and moors; yet Brown Willy, the highest hill, is only
1368 feet above the level of the sea at low water. Some
beautifully picturesque valleys intervene, richly diversified s
with corn, woods, coppices, orchards, rivulets, and verdant
meadows. The stupendous rocks which form the great
barriers against the ocean, particularly about the Lands
End and tlie Lizard, are fitted to inspire the mind with
the most sublime conceptions; w’hilst the remains of an
early age, military, civil, and religious, dispersed over the
county, present, in striking contrast, the small scale on
which the works of man are conducted, and the instability
of human affairs. Throughout the higher lands the soil is
a light black earth, intermixed with gravel, the detritus
of the granite, or growari as it is here called; but a light
loam, mixed with slaty matter, is the most prevalent on
the gentle declivities and lower grounds. Clay is found
in different places, of various quality. One kind is made
into bricks, which are in request for furnaces, and another
is much valued when formed into moulds for casting me¬
tals. For nine months in the year the wind blows from
points between the west and south, bringing with it from
the Atlantic vast bodies of clouds, which, being broken
b}r the narrow ridge-like hills of the county, descend in
frequent showers. Storms are more frequent and violent
than in the inland parts of England, particularly from the
north-west; but from this quarter the wand is generally
dry, and brings fair weather. The climate is healthy, and
there are numerous instances of longevity. Snow seldom
lies for a few days. The myrtle, the balm of Gilead, and
many other tender plants and shrubs, live and thrive in
the open air; yet the most hardy trees on the sea coast
sustain much injury from the violence ot the westerly
wind, and the sea spray, which it drives with great force
before it. The only shrub which seems to bear the sea
air is the tamarisk, which grows to the height of ten or
tvrelve feet in seven years, in situations most exposed to
CORN
H the sea, forming an admirable shelter, and, as it bears cut-
ti'n0-, might be useful also as a fence; yet it is destroyed
by'severe frosts. The cuttings by which it is propagated
take root without difficulty. Till within these few years,
the attempt to raise plantations was scarcely ever success¬
ful; but latterly, the pineaster being first planted as a
shelter to the more tender trees, their appearance is more
promising. The principal rivers are the Tamar, the Lyn-
her, the Looe, the Fawy, the Camel or Alan, and the Fal.
The Tamar is the most considerable. It rises on the sum¬
mit of a moor in the parish of Morvinstow, the most north¬
ern in the county, and, taking a southerly direction, falls,
along with several tributary streams, into the spacious
basin called the Hamoaze, and issuing thence between
Mount Edgecumbe and the Devil’s Point, unites with the
waters of the Plym; and the conflux of these rivers with
the sea forms the noble road for shipping named Plymouth
Sound.
The landed property of Cornwall is very much divided,
few estates producing a rent of more than L.3000, exclu¬
sive of the underground revenues, which are continually
fluctuating. What are called the Duchy lands are far
more extensive. The income derived from them, and from
the duty on the coinage of tin, are the only parts unalien¬
ated of the immense hereditary revenues which formerly
constituted an independent provision for the heir-apparent
to the crown. This provision was originally made by Ed¬
ward III. for his eldest son, Edward the Black Prince,
whom he created Duke of Cornwall, with special limita¬
tion to the first begotten sons of him and his sons, kings
of England for ever. The occupiers of these estates are
lessees under the Duke of Cornwall, and generally pur¬
chase an interest in the land during three lives, the con¬
sideration being a fine paid at the time of the grant, and
also a reserved rent during the lease. A lease for three
lives is common on church lands, and formerly was not
unfrequent also on private estates. Leases at rack-rent
seldom exceed fourteen years. The farms are in general
I very small, the rents, even in the most fertile parts, being
only from L.30 to L.50, and, in the western and mining'
districts, they are chiefly cottage holdings. Agriculture,
being but a subordinate concern here, is not generally
pursued with much spirit and success; and the fines paid
for their long leases deprive the farmers of that capital
which should be invested in the improvement of the soil
from year to year. Their best cattle are of the North De¬
von breed, which is much employed in labour. The native
sheep of the county, now nearly extinct, was one of the
worst descriptions in Britain. A great many different
breeds have been introduced from other districts. The
backs of horses or mules are used more frequently than
carts or waggons as the means of transport. Barley, oats,
and potatoes are grown beyond the consumption, though
the course of cropping is generally most exhausting; but a
large quantity of wheat or flour is imported for the min¬
ing districts. In the neighbourhood of Penzance two crops
of potatoes are commonly obtained every year. Sea-sand,
sea-weed, and damaged pilchards, are used to a consider¬
able extent as manure.
11 Si Cornwall has long been distinguished by its mineral
treasures, of which the most considerable are tin and cop¬
per. The strata in which these metals are found extend
from the Land’s End, in a direction from west to east, to
the Dartmoor Hills, in Devonshire, and consist chiefly of
granite and a variety of the grauwacke, here called killas.
Ihe chief seat of the mines now lies in the neighbourhood
and to the westward of St Austel, from which place to
the Land s End the principal mines are to be found, ex¬
tending along the northern coast, and keeping a breadth
of about seven miles. These metals are commonly found
W A L L. 367
in veins or fissures called lodes, of which the sides or walls Cornwall,
do not always consist of the same substance, nor are they
equally hard; for, though one side of the fissure may be
a dense stone, the other is sometimes as soft as clay.
Many lesser veins branch from the great lodes like the
boughs of a tree, and at last terminate in threads. The in¬
dications of a vein of metal are various, such as scattered
fragments of ore, called shades, and the metallic taste of
springs. Many rich lodes have been discovered by work¬
ing drifts across the county, in the directions of north
and south. From the course of the metals being from
west to east, the lode will thus be cut at right armies
See Mining. &
Tin, the most important mineral of this county, is found
collected and fixed, and also in a loose and dispersed form.
In the former state, it is either in a lode, or & floor which
is a horizontal layer of the ore; or interspersed in grains
and small masses in the natural rock. The same lode that
has continued perpendicular for several fathoms, is some¬
times found to extend suddenly into a floor. In its dis¬
persed form it is met with either in a pulverized state, in
separate stones called shades, or in a continued course of
stones called a stream. These streams are of different
breadths, seldom less than a fathom, and often scattered,
though in different quantities, over the whole tract in
which they are found. When several streams meet they
frequently make a very rich floor. The principal stream
work is at Carnon, between Truro and Penryn.
The most common state in which tin is found in this
county is the calciform, the greater part of the ore being
indurated or glass-like, and its most prevalent matrix is
either an argillaceous or a siliceous substance, or a stone
composed of both, called by the miners caple. None of
the calcareous genus ever appears contiguous to the ore,
except the floors. The oxides of iron and arsenic are
those with which the. tin is most frequently blended.
When raised from the mine it is divided into as many
shares or doles as there are lords and adventurers. Every
mine possesses the privilege of having the ore distributed
on the adjacent fields. It is generally pounded or stamp¬
ed on the spot, and when it is small enough to pass through
the holes of an iron grate fixed in one end of the box
where the lifters work, it is carried by a small stream into
pits, from which it is transferred into a large vat, washed,
and rendered sufficiently clear for the smelting-house.
The tin, when wrought into metal, is cast into blocks
weighing from 2f to cwi. each, which are not saleable
till assayed by the proper officers, and stamped with the
duchy seal. This is termed coining the tin. Since the
reign of Henry VIII. the coinages have been held re¬
gularly four times annually, at Lady Day, Midsummer,
Michaelmas, and Christmas, at the stannary towns of
Launceston, Lostwithiel, Truro, and Helston, to which
Penzance was added by Charles II. The annual produce
of the tin mines is about 25,000 blocks, each worth ten
guineas on an average.
Copper ores are found in great abundance and variety.
Veins are frequently discovered in cliffs that are laid bare
by the sea. The most encouraging indication of a rich
ore is an earthy ochreous stone, called gossan, which is of
a reddish colour, and crumbles like the rust of iron. The
ore does not lie at any particular depth, but it is a gene¬
ral rule, that, when copper is discovered in any fissure,
the lode should be sunk upon, as it commonly proves best
at some distance below the surface. When the metal has
been properly refined, it is poured into oblong iron moulds,
each containing about 150 lbs. weight. In the General
View of the county, printed in 1794, the produce of all
the copper mines is said to be about 40,000 tons of ore,
yielding 4700 tons of copper, then worth L.8 a ton.
368
Cornwall.
CORNWALL.
Many other minerals have been found in this county and for ^
much capital and labour have been empoyu n the qranni’is, the porpoise or uca-hog, the Ui/i: sha/it
some of them, without their yielding any adequate return the ^ p_, ^ ^ county> ^
yet the success has been in a few instances^ ^ ^ fish is a most uncommon one named the monk ox
new mines are opened as fast as the imp0rtant. angel fish, the turbot, the sea-adder, and the singular fish
doned. We can only mention some °j . of ^ most caned the sun-fish. Mackarel is caught in great plenty
Lead mines are not numerous; ^ the ^ ]ead? on the southern coast; also the red mullet, and the John
whichis’me'wkh bih i^ed and in rnass^ The ^twe^ ^^1";
Wither the shores. <**» are also found in great
as to warrant expensive OP6^11^8 P gQ ]a a n_ The name of Cornwall is supposed by some to be cotn-Aj
is reported to have been obtained he - » nnte- pounded of Cam, signifying “ a rock” in the British lan-tiei
tity, in the reigns of Edward I. and Edward Ill^as^^^ P and Gauls or wLls, the name which the Saxons
Ally to aid the warlike o"terpnses of these monarchs, guag^ ^ 0ther8> however> thi„k it U derived
but recent searches haye "Ot tee lours of blue> fr„m the Latin cornu, or the British fern, “ a hornon ac-
ores; sulphuret of non, ol ti e “ intermixed count of its running out into the sea somewhat m the form
green, purple, gold sdver, and oopPO^often .nmrm^d ^ ^ H.the= (he BritonS; as jn WalKi re.
with the copper lodes; hsmuth, ^ mMdena or tired on the intrusion of the Saxons, where they opposed
sonic, manganese, wolfram, mam ’ /t of them their further conquests. In this partof the island they form-
sulphuret of molybdenum, are all found ”»at,0“l’e” ki dom wh]ch existed for'many years afterwaids on.
in considerable abundance. Aecordmg to PMlms map o a ^ whom were Ambrosias Ann,
the mines in 1800, ‘ 'r^'^heen of copper and hus, and thePjustly celebrated Arthur; nor were they sub-
five of coppet, twenty-eight o , „ ■ dued till the middle of the seventh century, from which
tin, two of lead, one of silver, one of l“d a”^ time Cornwall was considered as subject to the West
of copper and silver, one of copper and cobalt, one of tin _ who began their sovereignt, in 519, and
and cobalt, and one of antimony. eountv those continued it till 8S8, under eighteen sovereigns, the last
Among the other fossil substances of was the great Egbert, who subdued all the
whichetherre ‘s° an Excellent quality wrought near Tlnta- others, and, by uniting them, formed the kingdom of Eng.
Wbicli there is an exct1^ 1 1 ^ , resem- land, when tins country was included in the county of
gel, m he northern par of the county ..^‘fone^rese ^ ^ This accounts for A|_
Camntoc6 and he lower St Colomband the celebrated fred's not mentioning Cornwall, which, on forming the
between the Lisard am. Mu,lion, usml in the circuits a^the Norman ^was^duded at .e
oftha^estabhslfment tn Worcester. But the most im- dukedom, and invested with it Edward the Black Prince.
^ortaipS J^dVfhTtsfb^^
Richard H. was created duke of Cornwall by charter. S,
pottery. It is a decomposed granite, the felspar of which
has lost the property of fusibility. At Bruro it has been
manufactured into retorts and crucibles. To these may
be added the Cornish diamonds, supposed to be the finest
in England, consisting of beautifully transparent quartz
was Henry V. by bis father Henry IV. Henry VI. de¬
livered the duchy to his son Prince Edward, and Edward
IV. created his son Edward V. Duke of Cornwall, as did
Elenry VII. his son, afterwards Henry VIII. upon the
death of his elder brother Arthur. James I. created his
in England, consisting ot oeauuiuuy irauspaicm. — ~ , • , .;t. nn h- Hprpasp
crystallized in six-sided pyrauude laud a curious pi-odup- son Hem-yA e
Fisheries.
tion, called the swimming stone, found in a copper mine
near Redruth, the cellular structure of which renders it
lighter than water.
Of the fish which frequent the Cornish coast, the pil¬
chard is the most abundant and valuable. In size and
form it differs but little from the common herring. Im¬
mense shoals appear during the summer and autumn, the ^ —   0--D   . . ,
first generally arriving at the Land’s End in the middle of Saxons came in, was common to all Britain, and more a
July.6 The principal fisheries on the southern coast are ciently to Ireland and Gaul; but the inhabltan^s of tv
in Mount’s Bay, and thence eastward to Devonshire; and, island being dispersed before those conquests, and dme
on the northern side, at St Ives. The pilchards are caught into Wales and Cornwall, and
in nets called scenes, each of which is managed by three same language, for want of frequent mtereourse beca
boats, containing from seventeen to twenty-four men, the differently pronounced and written, am in „
largest kind being two hundred and twenty fathoms long, grees mixed with other languages. Hence arosethe\V ,
sixteen fathoms deep in the middle, and fourteen at each the Cornish, and the Armonc dialects, roots of wh.c
end. When brought on shore they are carried to store- are so much alike that they are known and ad J
houses, or cellars as they are termed, where the small and the inhabitants of either country ; but the g™™™ _
broken fish are picked out. They are then disposed in varied that they cannot converse. 1 he Cornish
layers on the pavement of the cellar, salt being strewed ed the most pleasing of the three. It was spoke g
between every layer. In this state they remain for about rally here down to the reign of Henry ylll. t
six weeks, after which they are taken up, washed, and Moreman, vicar of Mynhinet, is sald j° have bee!) ee(j
placed in hogsheads, where, by means of a powerful lever, who taught his parishioners the Lord s Prayer’ „pformal
they are pressed so closely as, when turned out, to ap- and ten commandments, in English; and at tne
pear in a compact state. By this process the oil is ex- tion the natives desired the service in Englisli.
tracted, which runs out of the casks through holes made Cornwall returns four members to parliament.
OUU x y WAAVV, VI     7
came to his brother Charles. The eldest sons of succeed¬
ing kings have enjoyed this title by inheritance. These
not only appoint the sheriff, but all writs, deeds, &c. are
in their name, and not in the king s ; and they have also
peculiar royalties and prerogatives distinct from the cioivn,
for which they appoint officers.
The Cornish language is a dialect of that which, till theL nage.
COR
COR 369
The following are the returns of the population for the years ending 1811, 1$21, and 1831.
YEARS.
1811
1821
1831
37,971
43,873
By how
many Fa¬
milies oc¬
cupied.
44,189
51,202
.3
1400
1820
OCCUPATIONS.
Families
chiefly em¬
ployed in
Agricul¬
ture.
17,465
19,302
Families
chiefly em¬
ployed in
Trade, Ma¬
nufactures,
or Handi-
craft.
10,954
15,543
All other
Families
not com¬
prised in
the two
preceding
classes.
15,770
16,357
PERSONS.
Males.
103,310
124,817
146,949
Females.
113,357
132,630
155,491
Total of
Persons.
216,667
257,447
302,440
Cornwal¬
lis.
CORNWALLIS, Charles, the first Marquis, second
Earl, and sixth Baron Cornwallis, was born on the 31st of
pecember 1738, of an ancient and honourable family, which
had been settled during many centuries in the county of
Suffolk. He was educated at Eton School, and afterwards
entered of St John’s College, Cambridge, by the name and
title of Lord Brome. Having exhibited an earty partia¬
lity for the military profession, he entered into the army
when about seventeen or eighteen years of age, and at¬
tained the rank of captain in Colonel Crawford’s light in¬
fantry in 1758. Three years afterwards he accompanied
the Marquis of Granby to the Continent, in the capacity
of aide-de-camp, and with the rank of major; and, in conse¬
quence of his good conduct, he was soon afterwards pro¬
moted to be lieutenant-colonel of the twelfth regiment of
foot. At this period he had also a seat in the House of
Commons, as the representative of his patrimonial borough
of Eye. Upon the demise of his father, who was the fifth
peer of the family, in 1762, he, of course, vacated his seat
in the House of Commons, and became a peer of Great
Britain, under the title of Earl Cornwallis. In 1765 he
was nominated one of the lords of the bed- chamber ; and,
about the same time, he was appointed aide-de-camp to his
majesty George III., which gave him the rank of colonel in
the line. The favours conferred on him by the court, how¬
ever, had not the effect of corrupting the natural integrity
of his mind. He carefully distinguished between his du¬
ties as a senator and as a soldier; and in his capacity of
peer of parliament, he displayed the independence of his
character in several important questions, by voting against
the measures of acRninistration. From the very beginning,
he showed himself inimical to those steps which led to the
contest with the American colonies ; and was one of four
peers who joined Earl Camden in opposing the bill for
extending the legislative power of Great Britain to our
Transatlantic provinces. He also protested against the
proceedings of ministers in the case of Mr Wilkes. In
| 1766 he was promoted to the command of the 33d regi-
mentof foot; and two years afterwards (14th July 1768),
he married Miss Jemima Tulikins Jones, daughter of
James Jones, Esq.
_ hot although Lord Cornwallis had uniformly and de¬
cidedly opposed those coercive measures which produced
the fatal contest with America, he did not hesitate to re¬
pair thither, in the service of his country, when his pro-
i fessional exertions were required. Accordingly, when his
| regiment was ordered for embarkation, although special
leave of absence had been obtained for him from the king,
lie resolved to share the fatigues and dangers of foreign
service, and took leave of his lady, who was so much af¬
fected by the separation that she sunk under the weight
of her grief into a premature grave.
Having proceeded to his destination, his lordship took
an active part in the subsequent campaigns. Soon after
ns arrival in America, he served, with the rank of maior-
vol. VII.
general; under Sir William Howe, and distinguished him¬
self as an able and enterprising partizan. In the month
of November 1776, he landed on the New Jersey shore,
and finding Fort Lee evacuated, he immediately pene¬
trated into the country, and took possession of the pro¬
vince. His lordship, however, soon discovered that this
was a contest in which the triumphs of skill, valour, and
discipline, were not attended with the usual consequences
of victory; and that the nature of the country, and the
mode of warfare adopted by the provincial generals, op¬
posed many obstacles to a speedy and successful termina¬
tion of hostilities. At the end of the campaign he re¬
paired to New York, with the view of embarking for Eng¬
land, in order that he might have an opportunity of ex¬
plaining to the British ministry the real -situation of af¬
fairs ; but having received information of the disasters at
Trenton, he deferred his voyage, and returned to the Jer¬
seys.
The first enterprise of Lord Cornwallis, in the campaign
of 1777, was an attempt to surprise an American post in
his neighbourhood, in which he partly succeeded. Soon
after this, he received orders from General Howe to aban¬
don the Jerseys; and in the month of July he embarked
with the English commander-in-chief on the expedition
to the Chesapeak. In several of the subsequent events of
this campaign his lordship was actively engaged. At the
passage of the Brandywine river he commanded a con¬
siderable body of troops ; and after driving the enemy be¬
fore him, he entered and took possession of Philadelphia
on the 24th of September 1777. From that period he
seems to have had little opportunity of signalizing himself,
until the campaign of 1779-1780, when he embarked as
lieutenant-general, with Sir Henry Clinton, on the expedi¬
tion to South Carolina. At the siege of Charlestown, Lord
Cornwallis performed eminent services, having attacked
and dispersed a body of militia which was hastening to
the relief of the place. On the surrender of the town,
the command of the province of South Carolina, with
about 4000 troops, devolved upon him. He was opposed
by General Gates, who had previously distinguished him¬
self in the actions with Burgoyne, and who was now ap¬
pointed to the chief command of the provincial forces in
South Carolina. Gates, having received intelligence of
the situation of the royal troops, advanced rapidly towards
Cambden, with the design of making an attack on the Bri¬
tish lines. Lord Cornwallis, however, having determined
not to await the approach of the Americans, left his posi¬
tion, and marched against them with a greatly inferior
force. The two armies met on the 16th of August, in a
narrow place, where the colonial troops could not avail
themselves of their superior numbers. The British general,
perceiving the advantage which the ground afforded him,
commenced the assault, and the action soon became ge¬
neral. The determined gallantry of the British troops,
who charged with the bayonet, at length compelled the
3 a
T'
370
Cornwal¬
lis.
COR
COR
enemy to give way, and they were pursaed nearly twenty
milesfrorn the field. Many of the colonial troops fell m
this engagement; 1000 men were taken prisoners; am
seven pieces of cannon, together with the greater part o
the ammunition and stores of the provincial army, remained
in possession of the British. But this success, brilliant as
it was, produced no permanent advantage to the cause
the royalists, and was more than compensated by the m -
fortunes which ensued. In 1781 Lord Cornwahis having
withdrawn, with the force under bis command, into lorK
Town, he was surrounded by a numerous American aimy
commanded by Washington ; and finding all atte«ip s to
repel the besiegers, or to escape through the hne., mef-
fectual, he was under the necessity of submitting t ‘
pSatlon, by which his whole army became pnsoners ot
mitted to pass the remainder of his life in the_enjoyment ci,
of domestic repose. But the new and extensive acquisi¬
tions of the East India Company had brought their affairsCor' a.
into a state of embarrassment; and the talents and expe-
. r* .1 T\ T -! ~ 1 C i n f ri n 1 m rvn
1I1LU cl      ' . , . . r
rience of the Marquis of Cornwallis pointed him out
" j
war.
Lord Cornwallis now returned to his native county.
Durum the political contests which took place in 1 ^ ~
and 1783, his lordship was deprived of his situation as
constable of the Tower, which, however, was restored to
him in 1784. Lor some years following, his talents were
not called into exercise by any conspicuous public emp oy-
ment. But when the affairs of India began to assume a ye y
critical aspect, he was selected as the person best qualified
to fill the important situation of governor-general, and 1 e
was at the same time invested with the order of the garter.
Soon after his arrival in India, the Company were involved
in a war with the formidable sovereign of the Mysore, 1 ip-
poo Sultan, son of the famous Hyder Ally. Lie conduct
of hostilities was at first intrusted to the Madras govern¬
ment • but towards the end of the year 1790 the gover¬
nor-general assumed the command of the grand army, and
took the field in person. As the events of tms war will
be detailed in another part of this work, it is unnecessary
for us to recapitulate the narrative here. It is sufficient
to observe that, by a combination of vigour and prudence,
the contest was brought to a successful termination in the
course of two campaigns. Tippoo, beaten in the held, and
forced to confine his efforts to the defence of his capita ,
was at length compelled by necessity to submit to such
terms as the British commander chose to dictate, and to
purchase peace by the sacrifice of half his dominions, and
a large portion of treasure. The power of the sultans of
Mysore, the most formidable enemies of the Bi itish go¬
vernment in India, was thus effectually undermined, and
the train laid for its subsequent annihilation.
At the conclusion of the war in India, Loid Cornwallis
returned to England. He was now (1792) created a mar¬
quis ; admitted a member of the privy council ; and, in
addition to his other appointments, he was nominated to
the lucrative office of master-general of the ordnance,
which gave him a seat in the cabinet. A few years af¬
terwards his talents were again required for the public
service. Ireland being in a state of ferment, harassed
with insurrection, and menaced with foreign invasion, the
Marquis of Cornwallis was invested,with the viceregal
powers, and assumed the government in 1798. His ad¬
ministration was short but successful; an invacl.ng aimy
was made captive; some of the abuses which prevailed in
the internal government of the kingdom were reformed,
and tranquillity restored. On the union of Ireland with
Great Britain, he resigned the government of the coun¬
try, and returned to England. In 1801 he was appoint¬
ed plenipotentiary to the congress assembled for the pur¬
pose of negotiating a general peace, which terminated in
the definitive treaty of Amiens.
Having been thus from his early years actively, and al¬
most uninterruptedly, engaged in the service of his coun¬
try, it might have been supposed that his lordship, who
had now attained an advanced age, would have been per-
the individual most likely to restore order and tranquillity
to our territorial possessions in Asia. In the year 1805,
he accordingly repaired thither a second time as gover¬
nor-general and commander-in-chief of the forces.
On his arrival at Calcutta, he found the finances of the
country in a most deplorable state; whilst several of the
most powerful of the native princes were still in arms, or
preparing anew for hostilities. His first object, therefore,
was to adopt a variety of arrangements for the purpose of
introducing order and economy into the civil department;
and he then resolved to place himself at the head of the
army, in order that, by an union of firmness and concilia¬
tion, he might accomplish what he justly conceived to be
the most beneficial measure for our Indian territories, an
honourable peace. But at this critical moment our east¬
ern empire was unfortunately deprived of his services.
Bodily fatigue, mental exertion, and the vicissitudes of
climate, had undermined his constitution ; and his health
was now so much impaired, that he was obliged to perform
his journey by slow and easy stages. Nature at length
became completely exhausted ; and he died on the 5th ot
October 1805, at Ghazepore, in the province of Benares,
in the sixty-sixth year of his age. He was buried with
o-reat pomp ; and every mark of respect was paid to his
merit. The inhabitants of Calcutta voted a mausoleum,
and those of Bombay a statue to his memory. His lord-
ship was only once married, and left two children, the pre¬
sent marquis and a daughter.
Marquis Cornwallis was endowed in no small degree
with those qualities which lead to distinction, both in the
cabinet and in the field, and rendered important services
to his country as a statesman and a general. In council,
he displayed moderation and coolness; in conduct, firm¬
ness, resolution, and vigour. In public life, he was dis¬
tinguished by independence of character and inflexible in¬
tegrity ; in private, he was respected and esteemed lor his
humanity and benevolence.
COROLLA, among botanists, the most conspicuous
part of a flower, surrounding the organs of generation,
and composed of one or more flower-leaves, most common¬
ly called petals, to distinguish them from the leaves of the
plant; according as there is one, two, or three ot these
petals, the corolla is said to be monopetalous, dipetalous,
tripetalous, &c. ,.
COROLLARY is a consequence drawn from something
already advanced or demonstrated. Thus, it being demon¬
strated that a triangle which has two equal sides, has also
two angles equal, it follows that a triangle which has three
sides equal, has also its three angles equal.
COROLISm a name by which Linnaeus distinguishes
those systematic botanists who have arranged vegetables
according to the regularity, figure, number, and other cir¬
cumstances, of the petals, or beautifully-coloured leaves ot
the flowers. The best systems of this kind are those ot
Rivinus and Tournefort. The former proceeds upon the
regularity and number of the petals, the latter on their
regularity and figure.
COROLLULA, a term used by botanists to express
the little partial flowers which make up the compound ones.
COROMANDEL, or Cholamandalu. Hus coasi
extends in a long line on the western side of the bay o
Bengal, from Point Calymere to the mouths of the K
na river, being about 350 miles in length. Along the wh h
extent of this coast there is not a good harbour, thog
there are several flourishing towns; and, with the excel
COR
COR
371
tion of the bay of Coringa, there is an extreme difficulty
J in landing, on account of the surf, except where proper
boats are provided. The northerly winds generally begin
to blow on the coast of Coromandel and in the bay of
Bengal about the middle of October; and for the first
three months with such violence, that it is very unsafe to
approach. This is the north-east monsoon. About the
middle of April the southerly winds commence, and con¬
tinue till October, during which period vessels may ap¬
proach the coast in perfect security. The monsoons are
accompanied at their commencement with violent thun¬
der and tempests; and these storms continue from Octo¬
ber to December, and sometimes even to January. Dur¬
ing summer, from April to October, when the south-east
monsoon commences, a hot wind blows during the day over
the land, and parches up every thing; so that the coun¬
try resembles a barren wilderness, nothing appearing green
except the trees. At night the heat is relieved by re¬
freshing breezes from the sea. These hot winds, however
oppressive and adverse to vegetation, are supposed to pu¬
rify the air; and it is accordingly observed by all Euro¬
peans, that the longer they continue, the ensuing months
are more healthy. During the season of the periodical rains
vegetation is hastened, the plants revive, and a beautiful
verdure is spread over the country.
CORONA, or Halo, in Optics, a luminous circle, sur¬
rounding the sun, the moon, the planets, or fixed stars.
Sometimes these circles are white, and sometimes colour¬
ed like the rainbow; sometimes one only is visible, and
sometimes several concentric coronas make their appear¬
ance at the same time. Those which have been seen
about Sirius and Jupiter were never more than three, four,
or five degrees in diameter; those which surround the
moon are also sometimes no more than three or five de¬
grees; but these, as well as those which surround the sun,
are of very different magnitudes, viz. of 12° O', 22° 35',
30° O', 38° O', 41° 2', 45° O', 46° 24', 47° O', and 90°, or even
larger than this. Their diameters also sometimes vary
during the time of observation, and the breadths both of
the coloured and white circles are very different, viz. of
two, four, or seven degrees.
The colours of these coronas are more diluted than those
of the rainbow; and they are in a different order, accord¬
ing to their size. In those which Newton observed in
1692, they were in the following order, reckoned from the
inside: In the innermost were blue, white, and red; in
the middle were purple, blue, green, yellow, and pale red ;
in the outermost, pale blue and pale red. Mr Huygens
observed red next the sun, and a pale blue outwards.
Sometimes they are red on the inside and white on the
outside. Mr Weidler observed one that was yellow on
the inside and white on the outside. In France one was
observed in 1683, the middle of which was white; after
which followed a border of red; next to it was blue, then
green, and the outermost circle was a bright red. In 1728
one was seen of a pale red outwardly, then followed yel¬
low, and then green, terminated by a white.
These coronas are very frequent. In Holland, M.
Muschenbroeck says, fifty may be seen in the day-time,
almost every year ; but they are difficult to be observed,
unless the eye be so situated that not the body of the
sun, but only the neighbouring parts of the heavens, can
be seen. Mr Middleton says that this phenomenon is
very frequent in North America; that there is generally
one or two about the sun every week, and as many about
the moon every month. Halos round the sun are very
h'equent in Russia. M. iEpinus says, that from the 23d
of April 1758 to the 20th of September, he himself had
observed no less than twenty-six, and that he has some¬
times seen twice as many in the same space of time.
Coronas may be produced by placing a lighted candle
in the midst of steam in cold weather ; also, if glass win¬
dows be breathed upon, and the flame of a candle be
placed some feet from it, while the spectator is also at the
distance of some feet from another part of a window, the
flame will be surrounded with a coloured halo ; and if a
candle be placed behind a glass receiver, when air is ad¬
mitted into the vacuum within it, at a certain degree of
density, the vapour with which it is loaded will form a
coloured halo round the flame. This was observed by
Otto Guericke. In December 1756, M. Muschenbroeck
observed, that when the glass window s of his room were
covered with a thin plate of ice on the inside, the moon
appearing through it was surrounded with a large and
variously coloured halo; and, opening the window, he
found that it arose entirely from that thin plate of ice, for
none was seen except through it.
Similar in some respects to the halo, was the remark¬
able appearance which M. Bouguer describes, as observed
by hirnself and his companions on the top of Mount
Pichincha, in the Cordilleras. When the sun was just
rising behind them, so as to appear white, each of them
saw his own shadow projected upon it, and no other. The
distance was such, that all the parts of the shadow were
easily distinguishable, as the arms, the legs, and the head;
but what surprised them most was, that the head was
adorned with a kind of glory, consisting of three or four
small concentric crowns, of a very lively colour, each ex¬
hibiting all the varieties of the primary rainbow, and hav¬
ing the circle of red upon the outside. The intervals
between these circles continued equal, though the diame¬
ters of all of them were constantly changing. The last
was very faint; and at a considerable distance was ano¬
ther great white circle which surrounded the whole. As
nearly as M. Bouguer could compute, the diameter of the
first of these circles was about 5| degrees, that of the se¬
cond 11, that of the third 17, and so on ; but the diameter
of the white circle was about 76 degrees. This phenome¬
non never appeared but in a cloud consisting of frozen par¬
ticles, and never in drops of rain like the rainbow. When
the sun was not in the horizon, only part of the white
circle was visible, as M. Bouguer frequently observed
afterwards.
Similar also to this curious appearance was one ob¬
served by a gentleman in Scotland. This individual ob¬
served a rainbow round his shadow in the mist, when he
stood upon an eminence above it. In this situation the
whole country seemed, as it were, buried under a vast
deluge, and nothing but the tops of distant hills appear¬
ed here and there rising above the flood; so that one
could not think of diving down into it without a kind of
horror. In those upper regions the air, he says, is at that
time very pure and agreeable to breathe in. At another
time he observed a double range of colours round his
shadow in these circumstances. The colours of the outer¬
most range wrere broad and very distinct, and everywhere
about two feet distant from the shadow. Then there was
a darkish interval, and after that another narrower range
of colours, closely surrounding the shadow, which was
very much contracted. This person was of opinion that
these ranges of colours are caused by the inflection of
the rays of light, the same that occasioned the ring of
light which surrounds the shadows of all bodies, ob¬
served by M. Maraldi and other’s. But the prodigious
variety with which these appearances are exhibited seems
to show that many of them do not result from the general
laws of reflection, refraction, or inflection, belonging to
transparent substances of a large mass; but depend upon
the alternate reflection and transmission of the different
kinds of rays, peculiar to substances reduced to the form
Corona.
372
COR
Corona. 0f thin plates, or consisting of separate and very minute
parts. But where the dimensions of the coronas are
pretty constant, as in the usual and larger.halo, which is
about half the diameter of the rainbow, they may perhaps
be explained on the general principles of refraction only.
Sir Isaac Newton does not appear to have given any
particular attention to the subject of halos, but he has
hinted at his sentiments concerning them occasionally;
by which we perceive that he considered the larger ana
less variable appearances of this kind as produced accord¬
ing to the common laws of refraction, but that the less
and more variable appearances depend upon the same
cause with the colours of thin plates. t
He concludes his explication of the rainbow with the
following observations on halos and parhelia : Ihe lig i
which comes through drops of rain by two refractions,
without any reflection, ought to appear the strongest at
the distance of about twenty degrees from the sun, and
to decay gradually both ways as the distance from him
increases ; and the same is to be understood of light trans¬
mitted through spherical hailstones ; and if the hail be a
little flatted, as it often is, the transmitted light may be
so strong, at a little less distance than that of twenty-six
degrees, as to form a halo about the sun or moon; wine \
haFo, as often as the hailstones are duly figured, may be
coloured, and then it must be red within by the least
refrangible rays, and blue without by the most refrangible
ones ; especially if the hailstones have opaque globules of
snow in their centres to intercept the light within the
halo, as Mr Huygens has observed, and make the inside
of it more distinctly defined than it would otherwise be ;
for such hailstones, though spherical, by terminating the
lio-ht by the snow, may make a halo red within and co¬
lourless without, and darker within the red than> without,
as halos used to be. For of those rays which pass close
by the snow, the red-making ones will be the least re¬
fracted, and so come to the eye in the straightest lines.
Some further thoughts of Sir Isaac Nejvton on the sub¬
ject of halos we find subjoined to the account of his expe¬
riments on the colours of thick plates of glass, which he
conceived to be similar to those which are exhibited by
thin ones. “ As light reflected by a lens quicksilvered
on the back side makes the rings of the colours above
described, so,” he says, “ it ought to make the like lings
in passing through a drop of water. At the first reflection
of the rays within the drop, some colours ought to be
transmitted, as in the case of a lens, and others to be
reflected back to the eye. For instance, if the diameter
of a small drop or globule of water be about the oOOth
part of an inch, so that a red-making ray, in passing through
the middle of this globule, has 250 fits of easy transmis¬
sion within the globule, and all the red-making rays which
are at a certain distance from this middle ray round about
it have 249 fits within t.h6 globule, and all the like rays at
a certain further distance round about it have 248 fits,
and all those at a certain farther distance 247 fits, and so
on; these concentric circles of rays, after their transmis¬
sion, falling on a white paper, will make concentric rings
of red upon the paper, supposing the light which passes
through one single globule strong enough to be sensible;
and in like manner the rays of other colours will make
rings of other colours. Suppose now that in a fair day
the sun should shine through a thin cloud of such globules
of water or hail, and that the globules are all of the same
size, the sun seen through this cloud ought to appear sur¬
rounded with the like concentric rings of colours, and the
diameter of the first ring of red should be ?4,°, that of
the second 10i°, that of the third 12° 33', and according
as the globules of water are bigger or less, the ring should
be less or bigger.”
COR
This curious theory, our author informs us, was confirm- (j
ed by an observation which he made in the year 1692. He
saw by reflection, in a vessel of stagnating water, three ^
halos, crowns, or rings of colours about the sun, like three
little rainbows concentric to his body. The colours of
the first, or innermost crown, were blue next the sun, red
without, and white in the middle, between the blue and
red. Those of the second crown were purple and blue
within, and pale red without, and green in the middle;
and those of the third were pale blue within, and pale
red without. These crowns inclosed one another imme¬
diately, so that their colours proceeded in this continual
order from the sun outward; blue, white, red; purple,
blue, green, pale yellow, and red; pale blue, pale red.
The diameter of the second crown, measured from the
middle of the yellow and red on one side of the sun, to
the middle of the same colour on the other side, was 9^
degrees- or thereabouts. The diameters of the first and
third he had not time to measure, but that of the first
seemed to be about five or six degrees, and that of the
second about twelve. The like crowns appear sometimes
about the moon ; for in the beginning of the year 1664,
on February 19th, at night, he saw two such crowns about
her. The diameter of the first or innermost was about
three degrees, and that of the second about five degrees
and a half. Next about the moon was a circle of white;
and next about that the inner crown, which was of a bluish
green within, next the white, and of a yellowish and red
without; and next about these colours were blue and
green on the inside of the outer crown, and red on the
outside of it.
At the same time there appeared a halo at the distance
of about 22° 35' from the centre of the moon. It was el¬
liptical, and its long diameter was perpendicular to the
horizon, verging below farthest from the moon. He was
told that the moon had sometimes three or more concen¬
tric crowns of colours encompassing one another next
about her body. The more equal the globules of water
or ice are to one another, the more crowns of colours will
appear, and the colours will be the more lively. The
halo, at the distance of 22^ degrees from the moon, is of
another sort. By its being oval and more remote from
the moon below than above, he concludes that it was made
by refraction in some kind of hail or snow floating in the
air in an horizontal posture, the refracting angle being
about 50 or 60 degrees. Dr Smith, however, makes it
sufficiently evident, that the reason why this halo appeared
oval and more remote from the moon towards the horizon,
is a deception of sight, and the same with that which
makes the moon appear larger in the horizon.
Corona, among botanists, the name given by some to
the circumference or margin of a radiated compound
flower. It corresponds to the radius of Linnaeus, and is
exemplified in the flat, tongue-shaped petals which oc¬
cupy the margin of the daisy or sunflower.
Corona Australis or Mevidionalis, Southern Crown, a
constellation of the southern hemisphere, the stars of
which in Ptolemy’s catalogue are thirteen, and in the Bri¬
tish catalogue twelve.
Corona Borealis, the Northern Crown or Garland, in
Astronomy, a constellation of the northern hemisphere,
the stars of which in Ptolemy’s catalogue are eight, in
Tycho’s as many, and in Mr Flamsteed s twenty-one.
CORONACH, among the Scotch and Irish, the custom
of singing at funerals, anciently prevalent in Scotland and
Ireland, and still practised in several parts. Of this custom
Mr Pennant gives the following accountI had not
the fortune to be present at any in North Britain, but for¬
merly assisted at one in the south of Ireland, where it
was performed in the fulness of horror. Ihe cries art
COR
tion called by the Irish the ulogohne and hullulu, two words
very expressive of the sound uttered on these occasions;
and being of Celtic stock, etymologists would swear to be
the origin of the oXoXuyri of the Greeks, and ululatus of
the Latins. Virgil is very fond of using the last whenever
any of his females are distressed, as are others of the Ro¬
man poets, and generally on occasions similar to this. It
was my fortune to arrive at a certain town in Kerry at
the time that a person of some distinction departed this
life. My curiosity led me to the house, where the fune¬
ral seemed conducted in the purest classical form.
Quodeunque aspiceret luctus, gemitusque sonabant,
Formaque non taciti funeris intus erat.
In short, the conclamatio was set up by the friends in the
same manner as Virgil describes that consequent on Dido’s
death;
Lamentis, gemituque, et foemineo ululatu
Tecta fremunt.
Immediately after this followed another ceremony, fully
described by Camden in his account of the manners of the
ancient Irish; the earnest expostulations and reproaches
given to the deceased for quitting this world, where she
enjoyed so many blessings, so good a husband, and such
fine children. This custom is also of great antiquity : for
Euryalus’ mother makes the same address to her dead son.
 Tunc ilia senectse
Sera meae requies ? potuisti relinquere solam,
Crudelis ?
But when the time approached for carrying out the corpse,
the cry was redoubled,
Tremulis ululatibus aethera complent;
a numerous band of females waiting in the outer court to
attend the hearse, and to pay in chorus the last tribute of
their voices. The habit of this sorrowing train, and the
neglect of their persons, were admirably suited to the oc¬
casion ; their robes were black and flowing, resembling
the ancient palla; their feet naked, their hair long and
dishevelled; I might truly say,
Ut qui conduct! plorant infunera, dicunt
Et faciunt prope plura dolentibus exanimo,
The corpse was carried slowly along the verge of a most
beautiful lake, the ululatus was continued, and the whole
procession ended among the venerable ruins of an old
abbey.”
CORONATION, the ceremony of investing with a
crown, particularly applied to the crowning of kings, upon
their succeeding to the sovereignty.
CORONELLI, Vincent, a well-known geographer, was
born at Venice. His skill in the mathematics having
brought him to the knowledge of the Count d’Estrees, the
latter employed him in. making globes for Louis XIV.
With this view Coronelli spent some time at Paris, and
left a great number of globes there, which are much es¬
teemed. In 1685 he was appointed cosmographer to the
republic of Venice, and four years afterwards public pro¬
lessor of geography. He founded an academy of cosmo¬
graphy at Venice, and died in that city in the year 1718.
He published about four hundred geographical charts, an
abridgement of cosmography, several books on geography,
and other works. & b
CORONER (coronator), an ancient officer in England,
so called because he has principally to do with pleas of
t e ciown, or those in which the king is more immediate-
ly concerned. And in this light the lord chief justice of
tie kings bench is the principal coroner in the kingdom,
an may, if lie pleases, exercise the jurisdiction of coroner
In any Part the realm. But there are also particular
eoioners for every county in England; usually four, but
COR
373
sometimes six, and sometimes fewer. This officer is of Corporal,
equal authority with the sheriff, and was ordained, toge-
ther with him, to keep the peace, when the earls gave up
the wardship of the county.
He is chosen by the freeholders of the county court;
and by the statute of Westminster it was enacted, that
none but lawful and discreet knights should be chosen ; but
now it seems sufficient if a man have land enough to be
made a knight, whether he be really knighted or not; for
the coroner ought to have an estate sufficient to maintain
the dignity of his office, and answer any fines that may be
imposed upon him for his misbehaviour ; and if he has not
enough to answer, his fine should be levied on the county,
as a punishment for electing an insufficient officer. Now,
indeed, through the culpable neglect of gentlemen of pro¬
perty, this office has been suffered to fall into disrepute,
and get into low and indigent hands; so that although
formerly no coroners were paid for serving their country,
and by the aforesaid statute of Westminster they were
expressly forbidden to take a reward, under pain of for¬
feiture to the king, yet for many years past they have only
desired to be chosen for the sake of the perquisites or fees
allowed for attendance by the statute 3 Henry VII. c. 1.
This Sir Edward Coke complains of heavily, but since his
time those fees have been much enlarged.
I he coroner is chosen for life, but may be removed ei¬
ther by being made sheriff or chosen verderor, which are
offices incompatible with the other ; and by the statute 25
Geo. II. c. 29, extortion, neglect, or misbehaviour, are also
made causes of removal.
The office and power of a coroner are also, like those of
the sheriff, either judicial or ministerial, but principallyju-
dicial. This is in a great measure ascertained by statute
4. Edw. I. De officio Coronatoris; and his duty consists prin-
cipally in inquiring, when any person is slain or dies sud¬
denly, or in prison, concerning the manner of his death.
And this must be super visum corporis ; for if the body is
not found, the coroner cannot sit. He must also sit at the
very place where the death happened; and his inquiry is
made by a jury from four, five, or six of the neighbouring
towns oyer whom he is to preside. If any be found guilty
by this inquest of murder, he is to commit the accused to
prison for further trial, and is also to inquire concerning
their lands, goods, and chattels, which are thereby for¬
feited ; but whether it be murder or not, he must inquire
whether any deodand has accrued to the king or the lord
of the franchise by the death, and must certify the whole
of this inquisition to the court of king’s bench or the next
assizes. Another branch of his office is to inquire con¬
cerning shipwrecks, and certify whether wreck or not, and
who is in possession of the goods. In the matter of trea¬
sure-trove, he is also to inquire concerning the finders,
and where it is, and whether any one be suspected of hav¬
ing found and concealed a treasure; whereupon he may be
attached and held to bail on this suspicion only.
I he ministerial office of the coroner is only as the she¬
riff’s substitute ; for when just exception can be taken to
the sheriff for suspicion of partiality, as that he is inte¬
rested in the suit, or of kindred to either plaintiff or defend¬
ant, the process must then be awarded to the coroner
instead of the sheriff, for execution of the king’s writs.
The office of coroner was formerly known in Scotland.
(Hume’s Comment, ii. 24.)
CORPORAL, a rank and file man, with superior pay
to that of the common soldiers, and nominal rank under a
serjeant, who has charge over one of the divisions or squads
of the company, places and relieves sentinels, and keeps
good order in the corps-de-garde. He also receives the
word from the inferior rounds which pass by his corps-de-
garde.
',74
Corpora¬
tion.
C ° R . C 0 R drivd.Bt
Corporal of a Ship of War on officer u"*-r ^"’considerably refined and improved upon the in.
at arms, employed to teach the officers the exerc vention particularly with regard to sole corporations, con-W /
small arms, or of musketry; to attend at tl.‘e gangw y ^ 'J one person only, of which the Roman lawyers
entering ports; and to observe that no spmtuoushq ^ ^ notion / their maxim being that tres faciunt colie-
are brought into the ship, unless by express c • w though tiiey held that if a corporation, originally
the officers. He is also to extinguish the hie an > consisting of three persons, be reduced to one, si umversu
at eight o’clock in winter, and nine in summer, w t it may still subsist as a corporation, ef
evening gun is fired; and to wa k fre'i'je^r 'lights stot “nomen universitatis. .
lower decks in his watch, to see that there a s ^ tQ tjie geverai SOrts of corporations, the first division
but such as are under the charge of proper sentme . them is int0 aggregate and sole. Corporations aggre-
CORPORATION, a body politic or mc^P0[a.t ’ i‘nto te consist 0f many persons united together into one so-
so called because the persons or members aiejo b ^ the are kept up ky a perpetual succession of
one body, and are qualified to take, grant, conve>’. ^ *f members, so as to continue for ever. Of this kind are the
There is a great variety of subsisting corporations for ^obre^dScommonalty of a city, the head and fellows of
the advancement of religion, learning, and dorf uni’ties a college, the dean and chapter of a cathedral church,
order to preserve entire those nghts an of Corporations sole consist of one person only and his sue-
which, if they were granted only to tbe no cehiors in some particular station, who are incorporated
which the body corporate is composed, would p Iavv in order to give them some legal capacities and
death be utterly lost and extract Jo show the cl,araCf that „f perpetuity, which in their
teristicsofthese incorporations, let us consider t natural persons they could not have possessed. In tins
a college in either of our universities, founded “d studon^ natura J ^ ^ # ^ corporati„n ;wi„bishop; so are
dum et omnium, for the encouragement nnd pp deacons and prebendaries, distinct from their seve-
religion and learning. If this was a mfre voluntaiy as . and u every pars0D and vicar. And the
sembly, the individuals who compose it might i ’ ity at least use, of this institution will be appa-
pray, Itudy, and perform scholastic exercises toge hra a ”eces?°onsidcr the case of a areon 0f a church. Atthe
long as they could agree to do so; b“ .th.ey,^™ "JS "'"‘in'l endowment of parish churches, the freehold of the
frame nor receive any laws or rules ot their co d clu7rc]l, the church-yard, the parsonage-house, the glebe,
would have any binding force, for want ot a c ..nfi tiie tithes of the parish, were vested in the then par-
power to create a sufficient obligation ; neither cou y bounty of the donor, as a temporal recora-
be capable of retaining any privileges or immumti , , him for spiritual care of the inhabitants, and
if such privileges were attacked, who of all this P intent that the same emoluments should ever after-
nected assembly would have the right or abd ty wards continue as a recompense for the same care. But
them ? and when they were dispersed by ueatli o this t0 be effected ? The freehold was vested in
wise, bow should they transfer these advantages o a paJSOn • and if we suppose it vested in his natural ca-
set of students, equally unconnected as themselves . F ^ ^ death it might descend to his heir, and would
also with regard to holding estates or ot ici p P 7’ R t0 ^jg debts and incumbrances ; or, at best, the
land be granted for the purposes ot religion or lea b heir rnhdit be compellable, at some trouble and expense,
twenty individuals notmeorporate^there is no lega y 1 nv& these rights to the succeeding incumbent. The
continuing the property to any other Pers0"^°r }aw therefore, has wisely ordained, that the parson, qua-
purposes, except by endless conveyances f o ^ parson, shall never die, any more than the king; and
other, as often as the hands are changed, but' J 1 effected by making him and his successors a
are consolidated and united into a corporation, ley c ‘ • p5v these means all the original rights of the
their successors are then considered as one person in la
as one person they have a common will, which is collected P nt&incumPbentj and his predecessor who lived seven
from the sense of the majority of the individuals , and this P are in law one and the same person ; and
one will may establish rules and orders for the regula _ fygn t0 the one was given also to the other,
of the whole, which are a sort of municipal ]aws ot [ ^ Another division of corporatfons, either sole or aggre-
little republic: or rules and statutes may be presenbe k into ecclesiastical and lay. Ecclesiastical corpora-
to it at its creation, which are then in the piace of natuial toa , , members are entirely spiritual persons,
laws. The privileges and immunities, the estates and pos- lions are where tbe “^^J^Baries, all arch-
sessions, of the corporation, when once vested in them, are sue n‘ son’s and vicars, which are sole corporations; |
vested for ever, without any new conveyance to new sue- deac , \ ’ -g at sent and formerly prior and con¬
cessions ; and all the individual members who have exist- dea P, jF and the like, bodies aggregate.
ed from the foundation to the present time, or who shall vent, abbot ^ monks and ^ ^ ^
hereafter exist, are but one person in law, a person that These
never dies; in like manner as the river Thames is still the perpetuating the rights J The civil
same river, though the parts which compose it are chong- foJJUdety of temporal purposes.
1"'Th'eeorig1ntaininvention of these political constitutions The king, for J "fj° tZ'mrrmot vST»f
seems to belong entirely to the Romans. They were in- in general, the possibility ot an # of the crJwn
troduced by Numa, who finding, upon his accession, the the throne, and to preserve tep ^ of one
city torn to pieces by the two rival factions of Sabines and entire ; and hence ^ ^ the regal rights
Romans, thought it a prudent and politic measure to sub- kmg, his successor is in full poss^ crcctcd for the
divide these two into many smaller ones, by instituting and dignity, ^e^ay corpora district, as a
separate societies of every manual trade and profession, good government 0f a uadiff anS burrresses, or the like;
They were afterwards much considered by the civil law, mayor and commonaUy, bailiff and b ^ of manufactureS
in which they were called universitates, as forming one some for the advancement and eg ^ London and
whole out of many individuals; or collegia, from being and commerce, as tbe tiadlnf C? P arrying 0n of di-
gathered together. They were also adopted by the canon other towns ; and others for the bett )’ ^ tion
faw, for the maintenance of ecclesiastical discipline; and vers special purposes, as church-wardens tor
Cor
con
ra. of the goods of the parish ; the College of Physicians and
Company of Surgeons in London, for the improvement of
>J t]ie medical science ; the Royal Society, for the advance¬
ment of natural knowledge ; and the Society of Antiqua¬
ries, for promoting the study of antiquities. The eleemo¬
synary corporations are those constituted for the perpetual
distribution of the free, alms or bounty of the founder
of them, to such persons as he has directed. Of this kind
are all hospitals for the maintenance of the poor, sick, and
impotent, and all colleges, both in our universities and
out of them. These colleges are founded for two pur¬
poses : first, for the promotion of piety and learning by
proper regulations and ordinances; and, secondly, for im¬
parting assistance to the members of those bodies, in or¬
der to enable them to prosecute their devotion and stu¬
dies with greater ease and assiduity. And all these elee¬
mosynary corporations are, strictly speaking, lay, and not
ecclesiastical, even though composed of ecclesiastical per¬
sons, and although they in some things partake of the na¬
ture, privileges, and restrictions of ecclesiastical bodies.
Having thus marshalled the several species of corpora¬
tions, let us next proceed to consider, first, how corpora¬
tions in general may be created; secondly, what are their
powers, capacities, and incapacities ; and, thirdly, how they
may be dissolved.
1. Corporations by the civil law seem to have been
created by the mere act and voluntary association of their
members; provided such convention was not contrary to
law, for then it was illicitum collegium. It does not ap¬
pear that the prince’s consent was necessary to be actu¬
ally given to the foundation of them, but merely that the
original founders of these voluntary and friendly societies
(for they were little more) should not establish any meet¬
ings in opposition to the laws of the state.
But in England the king’s consent is absolutely neces¬
sary to the erection of any corporation, either implied or
expressly given. The king’s implied consent is to be
found in corporations which exist by force of the common
law, to which our former kings are supposed to have given
their concurrence; common law being nothing else but
custom, arising from the universal agreement of the whole
community. Of this sort are the king himself, all bishops,
parsons, vicars, church-wardens, and some others; who
by common law have ever been held (as far as our books
can show us) to have been corporations, virtute officii;
and this incorporation is so inseparably annexed to their
offices, that we cannot frame a complete legal idea of any
of those persons, but wre must also have an idea of a cor¬
poration, capable to transmit his rights to his successors,
at the same time. Another method of implication where¬
by the king’s consent is presumed, is as to corporations
by prescription, such as the city of London, and many
| others, which have existed as corporations, time whereof
the memory of man runneth not to the contrary, and
therefore are looked upon in law to be well created; for
though the members cannot show any legal charter of
incorporation, yet in cases of such high antiquity the law
presumes there once was one; and that, by the variety of
accidents which a length of time may produce, the char¬
ter is lost or destroyed. The methods by which the king’s
consent is expressly given, are either by act of parliament
or charter. By act of parliament, of which the royal as¬
sent is a necessary ingredient, corporations may undoubt¬
edly be created; but it is observable that most of those
statutes which are usually cited as having created incor¬
porations, do either confirm such as have been before
created by the king, as in the case of the College of Phy¬
sicians, erected by charter 10 Henry VIII. which charter
w’as afterwards confirmed in parliament; or they permit
the king to erect a corporation in futuro, with such and
COR
375
such powers, as is the case of the Bank of England, and Corpora-
the Society of the British Fishery. So that the immediate tion.
creative act is usually performed by the king alone, in vir-
tue of his royal prerogative.
All the other methods, therefore, by which corporations
exist, by common law, by prescription, and by act of par¬
liament, are for the most part reducible to this of the
king’s letters patent, or charter of incorporation. The
king’s creation may be performed by the words creamus,
erigimus, fundamus, incorporamus, or the like. Nay, it is
held, that if the king grants to a set of men to have gil-
dam mercatorium, a mercantile meeting or assembly, this
alone is sufficient to incorporate and establish them for
ever.
The king, it is said, may grant to a subject the power
of erecting corporations, though the contrary was former-
ly held; that is, he may permit the subject to name the
persons and powers of the corporation at his pleasure ; but
it is really the king that erects, and the subject is but the
instrument; for though none but the king can make a cor¬
poration, yet qui facitper almm, facitper se. In this man¬
ner the chancellor to the university of Oxford has power
by charter to erect corporations; and has actually exerted
it in the erection of several matriculated companies, now
subsisting, of tradesmen subservient to the students.
When a corporation is erected, a name must be given
to it; and by that name alone it must sue and be sued,
and do all legal acts.
2. After a corporation is so formed and named, it ac¬
quires many powers and rights, which are next to be con¬
sidered. Some of these are necessarily and inseparably in¬
cident to every corporation ; which incidents, as soon as a
corporation is duly erected, are tacitly annexed of course.
As, first, To have perpetual succession. This is the very
end of its incorporation; for there cannot be a succession
for ever without an incorporation; and therefore all ag¬
gregate corporations have a power necessarily implied of
electing members in the room of such as go oft’. Secondly,
To sue or be sued, implead or be impleaded, grant or re¬
ceive, by its corporate name, and do all other acts as na¬
tural persons may. Thirdly, To purchase lands and hold
them, for the benefit of themselves and their successors,
which two are consequents of the former. Fourthly, To
have a common seal; for a corporation being an invi¬
sible body, cannot manifest its intention by any personal
act or oral discourse; it otherwise acts and speaks only
by its common seal. Although the particular members
may express their private consent to any act by words
or signing their names, yet this does not bind the corpo¬
ration; it is the fixing of the seal, and that only, which
unites the several assents of the individuals ■who com¬
pose the community, and makes one joint assent of the
whole. Fifthly, To make bye-laws or private statutes
for the better government of the corporation, which are
binding upon themselves, unless contrary to the laws of
the land, and then they are void.
3. Any particular member may be disfranchised, or lose
his place in the corporation, by acting contrary to the
laws of the society, or the laws of the land; or he may
resign it by his own voluntary act. But the body politic
may also itself be dissolved in several ways, which disso¬
lution is the civil death of the corporation; and in this
case their lands and tenements revert to the person, or
his heirs, who granted them to the corporation; for the
law annexes a condition to every such grant, that if the
corporation be dissolved, the granter shall have the lands
again, because the cause of the grant has failed. The
grant is indeed only during the life of the corporation,
which may endure for ever; but when that life is deter¬
mined to be the dissolution of the body politic, the granter
376
Corporeal
II .
Correction.
COR
C O R
takes it back by reversion, as in the case of every other
grant for life. The debts of a corporation, either to or
from it, are totally extinguished by its dissolution; so
that the members thereof cannot recover, or be chargecl
with them, in their natural capacities: agreeably to that
maxim of the law, Si quid universitati debetur, singulis
non debetur ; nec, quod debet university, singuh debent.
A corporation may be dissolved, first, by act of par i -
ment, which is boundless in its operations ; secondly, by
the natural death of all its members, in cases of an aggre¬
gate corporation; thirdly, by surrender of its umci
mto the hands of the king, which is a kind of suicide; and
fourthly, by forfeiture of its charter through ^gl’^nce
or abuse of its franchises, in which case . ie c j S
that the body politic has broken the conditions upon which
it was incorporated, and therefore the incorporation is void.
CORPOREAL, those qualities or accidents which be
long to body. See Incorporeal. , . , . ,
CORPOREITY, the quality of that which is corporeal,
or has body; or that which constitutes it such. I he cor¬
poreity of God was the capital error of the Anthropomor-
phites. Some authors reproach Tertulhan with admitt g
a corporeity in the Deity ; but it is manifest that, by body,
he means no more than substance. The Mahommedans
reproach the Samaritans at this day with a belief in the
corporeity of God. Many of the ancients believed m the
corporeity of angels. i, i „ j
CORPULENCY, the state of a person too much load¬
ed with flesh or fat. Corpulency was held infamous among
the ancient Lacedaemonians. Sennertus mentions^ a man
who weighed six hundred pounds, and a woman thirty-six
years of age who weighed four hundred and fifty, bright
of Malden, who died at the age of twenty-nine years in
1750, weighed six hundred and sixteen pounds. Chiapim
Vitelli, Marquis of Cerona, a noted Spanish general in his
time, was excessively corpulent, but by drinking of vine¬
gar is said to have reduced himself to such a degree of
feanness that he could fold his skin several times round
111 CORPUS Ciiristi, a festival of the church of England,
observed on the next Thursday after Irinity Sunday. It
was instituted in honour of the eucharist; to which also
one of the colleges of Oxford is dedicated.
CORPUSCLE, in Physics, a minute particle, or physi¬
cal atom, such as a natural body is composed of. By this
word is not meant the elementary particles, nor hyposta-
tical principles of chemists; but those particles, whether
of a simple or compound nature, the parts of which will
neither be dissolved nor dissipated by ordinary degrees of
^CORPUSCULAR Philosophy is that method of phi¬
losophising which endeavours to explain things, and to ac¬
count for the phenomena of nature, by the motion, figure,
rest, position, attraction, or repulsion of the corpuscles, or
the minute particles of matter.
CORRADINI di $vzzA, Peter MarcelUnus, a learned
civilian and cardinal, born at Sezza in 1658, acquired the
esteem and confidence of Clement XL and died at Rome
in 1743. He was the author of a learned and curious work,
entitled Vetus Latium profanum et sacrum, 2 vols. folio;
and a History of Sezza, in 4to.
CORRADO, Sebastian, an Italian grammarian of the
sixteenth century, taught the Greek and Latin tongues at
Reggio, where he formed an academy of polite literature ;
and at length removed to Bologna, in order to become
professor of those languages. He wrote several works, the
most esteemed of which is Questura in qua Ciceronis vita
refertur, Venice, 1537, 8vo. He died in 1556.
CORRECTION, in Printing, the act of retrenching
the faults of a work; or the reading which the corrector
irives the first proofs, in order to point out and amend theCord
c? _ , . , „ _ i   4.:g~a u-t i-1a« lor
faults which are to be rectified by the compositor.
The corrections are placed on the margin of each page, G e
right against the line where the faults are found. There ''•'w
are different characters used to express different correc¬
tions, as T> or d, dele, for any thing to be effaced or left
out. When any thing is to be inserted, the place is mark-
ed in the line with a caret a, and the insertion added in
the margin. When a word, syllable, or the like, is to be
altered, it is erased out of the proof, and that to be put in
its stead is written in the margin; always observing, if there
be several mistakes in the same line, that the corrections
in the margin be separated by little bars or strokes, thus, |.
If a space be omitted, its place is marked with a caret, and
the margin with ^. If a space be wrong placed, as in
the middle of a word, the two parts are connected with a
cu rve, and the same character put in the margin. If a
letter be inverted, this is expressed on the margin by g.
If any thing be transposed, it is marked thus: The shortest
\arethe\ follies] best; fox the shortest follies are the best; and on
the margin is added tr. in a circle. If Roman characters
are to be changed for Italic, or vice vci'sa, a line is drawn
under them thus, and Roman or Italic added to the mar¬
gin : if lower case letters are to be altered into small ca¬
pitals, a double line is used. If a sentence is entirely
omitted, the place is marked with a caret, and in the
margin is inserted the word out, and a reference made to
the page of the copy in which the sentence occurs. If
the letters of a word stand too far asunder, a line is drawn
under them, and in the margin is put a crooked line or
hook, thus
Correction House, a place of confinement, where va¬
grants and persons guilty of offences of an inferior degree
suffer punishment by being obliged to labour for a certain
period of time, as for months or years, according to the
nature of the offence committed. The benefits arising to
society, and the reformation of offenders, from this mode
of punishment, have been variously estimated by different
writers, according to the views which they have taken of
the effects and consequences which are supposed to follow
the confinement and restraint to which the criminal is
subjected. See Punishments.
CORREGIDOR, the name of an officer of justice in
Spain, and in countries subject to the Spanish govern¬
ment. He is the chief judge of a town or province.
CORREGGIO, a city of Italy, in the province of Reg¬
gio, of the duchy of Modena. It is a poor place, without
industry, containing within the walls only 2200 inhabit¬
ants ; but, including the extensive suburbs, about 7500.
It was the birth-place of the celebrated painter Antonio
Allegri.
CORREGGIO. See Allegri.
CORRELATIVE, something opposed to another in a
certain relation. Thus father and son are correlatives;
while light and darkness, motion and rest, are correlative
and opposite terms. ■
CORREZE, a department of France, formed out ot the
ancient division Limousin. It is bounded on the north by
the departments of the Upper Vienne and the Creuse, on
the east by the Puy de Dome and Cantal, on the south
by the Lot, and on the west by Dordogne and Upper
Vienne. The extent is 2190 square miles, or, according
to the Almanac Royale, 585,750 hectares. The face ot
the country is in general mountainous; but in the south¬
ern and western parts are some districts of low land.
The soil is for the most part poor and thin; the lugi
lands being covered with heath, and the low lan s u
moderately fertile. The climate is raw and coid, ant >a
the mountains snow is to be seen .during eight months o
r
COR
COR
Cor:
Co
t:
testhe year; but in the valleys the heat in summer is exces¬
sive. As the population is thin, though much of the land
). is unproductive, sufficient of corn is raised for the consump¬
tion ; but it for the most part consists of maize and rye;
'J anc[ the place of corn is in a great measure supplied hy
chestnuts, which, as well as walnuts and filberts, are very
abundant. A practice prevails of boiling and drying the
chestnuts, so as to preserve them through the whole year.
There are a few small mines of iron and copper; and some
coal is extracted, as well as marble, alabaster, and por¬
phyry. The manufactures are insignificant. The chief
trade is in cattle, wine, nut-oil, wood, and bees-wax. The
inhabitants amount to 252,612 persons, who have scarce¬
ly any education ; and few of them speak French, but
make use of a kind of patois, more resembling Spanish or
Italian. The department is divided into three arrondisse-
ments, twenty-nine cantons, and 294 communes. The ca¬
pital is the city of Tulle.
CORRIENTES, a town of Buenos Ayres, in Santa Fe,
situated at the junction of the Parana and Paraguay, 440
miles north of Buenos Ayres. The population amounts to
about 4500. Long. 60. 36. W. Lat. 27. 50. S.
CORROSION, in a general sense, is the action of gnaw¬
ing away, by degrees, the continuity of the parts of bodies.
CORRUPTICOLfE, a sect which arose out of the Mo-
nophysites, in Egypt, about the year 519, under their chief
Severus, the pretended patriarch of Alexandria.
The distinguishing doctrine, from which they derived
their name, was, that the body of Jesus Christ was corrup¬
tible-, that the fathers had owned it; and that to deny it
was to deny the truth of our Saviour’s passion. On the
other hand, Julian of Halicarnassus, another Eutychian
and refugee, maintained that the body of Jesus Christ
had always been incorruptible; that to say it was cor¬
ruptible, was to make a distinction between Jesus Christ
and the Word, and by consequence to acknowledge two
natures in Jesus Christ.
The people of Alexandria were divided between the two
opinions; and the partizans of Severus were called cor-
rupticolce, or worshippers of something corruptible, and
also corruptibiles; while the adherents of Julian were de¬
nominated incorruptibiles or phaniasiastce. The clergy
and secular powers favoured the former, the monks and
the people the latter.
CORRUPTION, the destruction, extinction, or at least
cessation for a time, of the proper mode of existence of
any natural body.
Corruption of Blood, in Law, one of the consequences
of an attainder. It goes both upwards and downwards ;
so that an attainted person can neither inherit lands or
other hereditaments from his ancestors, nor retain those
he is already in possession of, or transmit them by de-
I scent to any heir; but the same escheat to the lord of
the fee, subject to the king’s superior right of forfeiture ;
and the person attainted also obstructs all descents to his
I posterity, wherever they are obliged to derive a title
through him to a remoter ancestor.
This is one of those notions which our laws have adopt¬
ed from the feudal constitutions, at the time of the Nor¬
man conquest; as appears from its being unknown in those
tenures which are indisputably Saxon, as gavelkind, in
which, though by treason, according to the ancient Saxon
laws, the land is forfeited to the king, yet no corruption
ot blood, no impediment of descents, ensues, and, on judg-
raent of mere felony, no escheat accrues to the lord. But
by the law of England, derived as above, a man’s blood is
so universally corrupted by attainder, that his sons can
neither inherit to him nor to any other ancestor, at least
0rirpp Par*: their attainted father.
his corruption of blood cannot be absolutely removed
vol. vii. .
except by authority of parliament. The king may excuse
the public punishment of an offender, but he cannot abo¬
lish the private right which has accrued, or may accrue,
to individuals as a consequence of the criminal’s attainder.
He may remit a forfeiture in which the interest of the
crown is alone concerned, but he cannot wipe away the cor-
luption of blood; for in it a third person has an interest,
namely, the loid who claims by escheat. If, therefore, a
man has a son, and is attainted, and afterwards pardoned
by the king, this son can never inherit to his father, or
father’s ancestors; because his paternal blood, being once
thoroughly corrupted by his father’s attainder, must ever
continue so. But if the son had been born after the par¬
don, he might have inherited ; because, by the pardon, the
father is made a new man, and may convey inheritable
blood to the children born after the remission.
CORSAIR, a pirate or person who scours the seas,
especially the Mediterranean, with a vessel armed for war,
without commission from any prince or powder, in order to
plunder merchant vessels. The word is formed from the
Italian corsare or corso, or a cursibus, by reason of their
courses or excursions. The name was commonly given to
the piratical cruisers of Barbary, who took their rise un¬
der Barbarossa, about the beginning of the sixteenth cen¬
tury.
A corsair is distinguished from & privateer by this, that
the latter acts under a commission, and only attacks ves¬
sels belonging to those who are at war with the state
whence his commission is derived. Hence the punish¬
ment of a corsair is, to be hanged without remission,
whereas the crews of privateers are to'be treated as pri¬
soners of wrar. All corsair vessels are good prizes.
CORSEE, a small town of Hindustan, in the province
of Bejapoor, and district of Raybaugh, situated on the
banks of the Kistnah river, which here runs in an easterly
direction, and is about five hundred yards from bank to
bank. It was formerly, while under the Mahommedan
government, a place of considerable note ; but it has been
so much oppressed by the Mahratta Brahmins, that many
of the Mahommedan persuasion have emigrated. Some,
however, still remain, and are subsisted by a revenue from
charitable lands. In the vicinity is a Mahommedan bury¬
ing ground, where many persons of great eminence are in¬
terred. Among these the tomb of Shaikh Surajiadden
is held in the highest reverence. This is one of the towns
within the Mahratta territory which enjoys the extraor¬
dinary privilege of killing beef for sale. Long. 74. 56. E.
Lat. 16. 40. N.
CORSELET, or Corslet, a small cuirass, or, according
to others, a piece of armour or coat made to cover the whole
body, anciently worn by the pikemen, who were placed in
the front and flanks of the battle, to resist the enemy’s
assaults, and guard the soldiers placed behind them.
CORSHAM, a town of the hundred of Chippenham, in
the county of Wilts, ninety-seven miles from London. It
is well built, in a healthy situation. Some broad cloths
are made, but to a less extent than formerly. The mar¬
ket is held on Wednesday. The inhabitants amounted in
1811 to 2394, in 1821 to 2727, and in 1831 to 2952.
CORSICA, an island in the Mediterranean, now form¬
ing one of the departments of the kingdom of France. It
extends from 8. 30. to 9. 31. east longitude, and from 41.
15. to 42. 59. north latitude. The greatest length from
north to south is about a hundred and five miles, its
breadth from east to west is forty-six miles, and it con¬
tains 3920 square miles. It is now divided into five ar-
rondissements, sixty-one cantons, and three hundred and
ninety-eight communes, and the population amounts to
174,702 souls. The island is generally mountainous, in¬
tersected with narrow valleys and plains. Some of the
3 B
377
.‘178
Corsned
Corte.
COR
COR ,1
, „ f.Qn a citv of the same name, is situated m the centre Gl
mountains in the centre are of the height ^ cta . !the’island, on the river tavignano. It is defended by
nine thousand feet. Cultivation is m a °a stvong fortress,
but in some spots, owing to the spontaneous ertility a so g_. . ,
of the soil and the heat of the climate, rather than at- ^ ^
tention, the products are wine, olives, almonds, lulu°ri ’ CORTES of Spain, a term purely Spanish, literally sig-
chestnuts, oranges, and pomegranates. I he ““nts nifying the courts, and.appUed to the states, or assembly of
16 1 the states, of the kingdom.
iiu IIVCI —   
Paoli founded a university in the year
^The inhabitants are 2092. Long. 8. 50. E. Lat. 42.
ly sufficient for the scanty population _ ,rp„es
are generally in a rude state, and their houses, ai esses,
and food, are of the simplest kind. natives
pure and peculiar kind of Italian. Many .
are employed in fishing for coral and for anchovies.
CorsLlvas governed by the rcpnbhc of Genoa ul 1,68,
when it was transferred by that feeble po
being then in a state of insurrection.
pense of blood and treasure subdued. Ii ' V ,
hv Eno-land • but after attempting to rule it, it was aDa
doned, since' which S
beaSs'0aris°e“beK^of the Bonaparte
CORTES, Hernan, conqueror of Mexico, was born at
Medellin, a small town of Estremadura, in 1485. He was
descended from a noble family of decayed fortune, who
destined him for the bar, and sent him at an early age to
the university of Salamanca. But being soon disgusted
with a species of study ill suited to his ardent genius, he
embraced the military profession, in hopes of signalizing
himself, under the celebrated Gonsalvo de Cordova. A
dangerous malady, however, having prevented his em¬
barking for Naples, his hopes were baffled; but when
his health was re-established he turned his attention to¬
wards the West Indies, which were then a source of liches
has arisen npm utiug ~ i wards the west maifs, which wcic ccc.v, 
familv •we. r.f and rdorv to the Spaniards. In 1504 Cortes set out for
CORSNED, or Morsel of Execratio^, a spec ^ f gt ^ wher‘ he was kindly received by Ovando,
trial or purgation anciently in use amon^ us,^and governor. He was then only nineteen, and remark-
probably arose from an abuse of ™ or able&for a graceful physiognomy and amiable manners as
ages of superstition. It consisted of a piece ^ e d well as for skill and address in all military exercises. He
bread, about an ounce m weight, w ch was consec remained in St Domingo, where Ovando had successively
with a form of exorcism; praying th« 7 ' conferred upon him several lucrative and honourable em-
niight cause convulsions and paleness, and ! no pas & , lo ^ luntil 1511, when he accompanied Diego Ve-
if the man was really guilty, but might turn to ^altl and p ^^ ^ dition to the island of Cuba, where he
nourishment if he was innocent; as the water^pf jeffl y ^me a]calde of St lago, and displayed great talents on
among the Jews was to cause the belly to swel and occasions. To the tire and impetuosity of
thiffh to rot, if the woman was guilty of adulteiy. Ipxs several y g , , nn.ipd
among me , This several trying occasions, lo the tire and impetuosity
thigh to rot, if the woman was guilty “/“““'/• / t youthhad now succeeded an indefatigable activity, united
corsnpd was then given to the ,u.pec»ed pttw'b, wl ^ ^ coolness and self-command which ore so neces-
the same time also received the lioly sacla™e ’ sary for tl,e execution of great designs. Grijalva, lieute-
the corsned was not, as some have suspecte , ‘ of Velasquez, bad just discovered Mexico, butwith-
mental bread itself; tilUl.e subsequent mvention^Uan- ^ , settlement. This displeased
substantiation preserved . from P ^ uses t"e reicn the governor of Cuba, who superseded Grijalva, and in-
torians assure us that Godwin earl of Kent n the re the c0„qUest of the newly-discovered country to
„f King Edward the Confessor, abjuring the death o t 1 hastened his preparations, and, on die
king's brother, at last appealed to Ins corsned r W- Cortes, ^ ^ ^ fr Stw with ten
lam deylutiendam abjuravit, which stuck in his throat hundred Spaniards, eighteen horse-
1/illpH him. This custom has been long since gradually ^1^, pieces of cannon. Scarcely had he set sail,
however, when Velasquez, repenting his choEe, aud ap-
killed him. rms nuoLum ircic —.-"-9 vo . .-
abolished, though the remembrance of ^ strllsubsrsts m w^en Velasquez, repenting
certain phrases of abjuration retained am 5 S u Ma prehensive that his lieutenant would carry off all the glory
people : as, “ I will take the sacrament upon . y ^ ag fit of- the enterprise, recalled the commission
this morsel be my last! and toe like. ■ fl tv which he had granted to Cortes, apd even ordered him to
COUSTOUPHINE, a village of Scotland, ,n 1 e county “a «rest. but tlle attachment of the troops, by
of Edinburgh, and about four miles we^f^m ^hat t ^ h ^ ^ ^ greatly beloved, enabled him to disconcert
polls. In former times it was of much la gt designs of the governor ; and on the 4th of March
more importance than it is at present. I he population of a M J on thefecoast 0f Mexico. Advancing along
the parish and village amounts to Ho . sometimes caressing the natives, and sometimes
CORT, Cornelius, a celebrated engraver, was born at timgur, his arn^ he took possession of the
Hoorn, in Holland, in 1536. After having learned t A ^ Tabasco. The noise of the artillery, the appear-
principles of drawing and engraving, ie wei . of the floating fortresses which had transported the
complete his studies, and visited all tie p aces a Snaniards over the ocean, and the horses on which they
the works of the great masters. At \ emce hepW as ‘ f P ht all new objects to the natives, inspired them with
teously received by Titian, and engraved several plates *^hament minJled with terr0r and admiration; they
from the pictures of that admirable P am ter He at 1 t J ^ the Suuards as gods, and sent them ambassa-
settled at Rome, where he died m 15/8, at the ag b presents. Cortes here learned that the native
forty-two. According to Basan, he was t iebest engra j {yas called Montezuma; that he reigned over
with the burin or graver only that Holland ever produced, so e g which had lasted for three centuries;
We find in his prints," adds he, “ correctness of diaw ‘ , • als caiied caciques, obeyed him; that his
and an exquisite taste." He praises also the taste and his pow^r absolute. No more
lightness of touch with winch he engraved landscapes, ric - ^ ^ infla^e the ambition of Cortes, who he-
without the assistance of the point. It is no smal 1 o . , ^undertake the conquest of this great empire,
to this artist, that Agostino Caracci was his scholar, and ^tat 1 “ 1 4combining stratagem and
imitated his style of engraving rather than that of any courage". He laid the foundation
other master. . . . , - nr ti,„ tnwn nf Vera Cruz, caused himself to be elected
CORTE, an arrondissement in the island of Coioica, of the f t1 w coionv and, like Agathocles,
bumedhiTvessels, to cut off the possibility of retreat, ami
COR
es. show his soldiers that they must either conquer or perish.
He then penetrated into the interior of the country, drew
to his camp several caciques hostile to Montezuma, and
induced these native princes to facilitate his progress.
The republic of Tlascala alone opposed him ; but he rout¬
ed its army, which had resisted all the forces of the Mexi¬
can empire, dictated peace on moderate terms, converted
the people into powerful auxiliaries, and, surmounting all
obstacles, arrived, with six thousand natives and a hand¬
ful of Spaniards, in sight of the immense lake on which
was built the city of Mexico, the capital of the empire.
Montezuma received him with great pomp, and his sub¬
jects, believing Cortes to be a descendant of the sun,
prostrated themselves before him. The first care of Cortes
was to fortify himself in one of the beautiful palaces of
the prince; and he was only thinking how to get hold
of the riches of so opulent an empire, when intelligence
reached him that a general of the emperor, who had re¬
ceived secret orders, had just attacked the garrison of
Vera Cruz and killed several of his soldiers. This event
undeceived the Mexicans, who had hitherto believed the
Spaniards to be immortal, and overturned the whole poli¬
cy of Cortes. Struck with the greatness of the danger, sur¬
rounded by enemies, and having only a handful of soldiers,
he conceived and instantly executed a most daring project.
Having repaired with his officers to the palace of the" em¬
peror, he announced to Montezuma that he must either
accompany him or perish. Being thus master of the per¬
son of the monarch, he then demanded that the Mexican
general and his officers who had attacked the Spaniards
should be delivered into his hands; and when this had
been done he caused these unfortunate men, who had
only obeyed the orders of their sovereign, to be burned
alive before the gates of the imperial palace. During this
cruel execution Cortes entered the apartment of Monte¬
zuma, and caused him to be loaded with irons, in order to
force him to acknowledge himself a vassal of Charles V.
The unhappy prince yielded, and was restored to a sem¬
blance of liberty on presenting the fierce conqueror with
six hundred thousand marks of pure gold, and a prodigi¬
ous quantity of precious stones. Scarcely had he reaped
the fruits of his audacity, however, when he was informed
of the landing of a Spanish army, under Narvaez, which
had been sent by Velasquez to compel him to renounce
his command. In this emergency Cortes acted with his
usual decision and courage. Leaving two hundred men
at Mexico, under the orders of his lieutenant, he marched
against Larvaez, whom he defeated and made prisoner,
and then enlisted under his standard the Spanish soldiers
who had been sent to attack him. On his return to the
capital, however, he found that the Mexicans had revolt¬
ed against the emperor and the Spaniards, and that dan¬
gers thickened around him. Montezuma perished in at¬
tempting to address his revolted subjects ; upon which the
latter, having chosen a new emperor, attacked the head¬
quarters of Cortes with the utmost fury, and, in spite of
the advantage of fire-arms, forced the Spaniards to retire,
which alone saved them from destruction. Their rear¬
guard, however, was cut in pieces, and they suffered se¬
verely during the retreat, which was continued during six
1 days. Elated with their success, the Mexicans offered
battle in the plain of Otumba. This was what Cortes de¬
sired, and it proved their destruction. Cortes gave the
signal for battle, and, on the 7th of July 1520, gained a
victory which decided the fate of Mexico. Immediately
afterwards, he proceeded to Tlascala, assembled an auxili¬
ary army of natives, subjected the neighbouring provinces,
and then marched a second time against Mexico, which,
a ter agdlant defence of several months, was retaken on
m 13th of August 1521. These successes were entirely
COR
owing to the genius, valour, and profound but unscrupu-
ous policy of Cortes ; and the account of them, which he
transmitted to Spain, excited the admiration of his coun-
trymem The extent of bis conquests, and the ability he
had displayed, effaced the censure which be had incurred
by the irregularity of his operations; and public opinion
having declared in his favour, Charles V., disregarding
the pretensions of Velasquez, appointed him governor and
captain-geneial of Mexico, at the same time conferring
on him the valley of Guaxaca, which was erected into a
marquisate, with a considerable revenue. But although
his power was thus confirmed by royal authority, and al¬
though he exerted himself to consolidate Spanish domina¬
tion throughout all Mexico, the means he employed were
such that the natives, reduced to despair, took arms against
the Spaniards. This revolt, however, was speedily sub¬
dued, and the Mexicans were everywhere forced to yield
to the ascendency of European discipline and valour.
Guatimozin, who had been recognised as emperor, and a
great number ot caciques, accused of having conspired
against the conquerors, were publicly executed, with cir¬
cumstances of great cruelty, by order of Cortes. Mean¬
while the court of Madrid, dreading the ambition and po¬
pularity, of the victorious chief, sent commissioners to
watch his conduct and thwart his proceedings ; and whilst
he was completing the conquest of New Spain, his goods
were seized by tne fiscal of the Council of the Indies, and
his Retainers imprisoned and put into irons. Indignant at
the ingratitude of his sovereign, Cortes returned in person
to Spain, to appeal to the justice of the emperor, and ap¬
peared there with great splendour. The emperor receiv¬
ed him with every mark of distinction, and decorated him
with the order of St lago. Cortes returned to Mexico
with new titles but diminished authority, a viceroy having
been intrusted with the administration of civil affairs^
whilst the military department, with permission to push
his conquests, was all that remained to Cortes. This di¬
vision of powers became a source of continual dissension,
and caused the failure of the last enterprises in which he
engaged. Nevertheless, in 1536, he discovered the penin¬
sula of California, and surveyed a part of the gulf which
separates it from Mexico. At length, tired of struggling
with adversaries unworthy of him, whom the court took
care to multiply, he returned to Europe, hoping to con¬
found his enemies. But Charles V. received him coldlv.
Cortes dissembled, redoubled the assiduity of Ids attend¬
ance on the emperor; accompanied him in the disastrous
expedition to Algiers in 1541, served as a volunteer, and
had a horse killed under him. This was his last appear¬
ance in the field, and if his advice had been followed, the
Spanish arms would have been saved from disgrace, and
Europe delivered nearly three centuries earlier from the
scourge of organised piracy. . Soon afterwards he fell into
neglect, and could scarcely obtain an audience. One day,
however, having forced his way through the crowd which
surrounded the emperor’s carriage, and mounted on the
door-step, Charles, astonished at an act of such audaci¬
ty., demanded to know who lie was. “ I am a man,” re¬
plied the conqueror of Mexico, proudly, “ who has given
you more provinces than your ancestors left you cities.”
Ibis haughty declaration of important services ili-requited
could scarcely fail to offend a monarch on whom fortune
had lavished her choicest favours ; and Cortes, overwhelm¬
ed with disgust, withdrew from court, passed the remain¬
der of his days in solitude, and died, near Seville, on the
2d ot December 1554, being then in the sixty-third year of
his age. The only writings of Cortes are four letters, on
the subject of his conquests, which he addressed to Charles
V., and which have fortunately been given to the world.
The best edition of them is that of Don Francisco Anto-
Iwi
380
COR
attests the truth of the recital it contains. The conquests
of Cortes have been described with pompous elegance bv
the historian Antonio do Soils, and with more tiuth and
simplicity by Bernardo Diaz del Castillo. J""/ .
COKTOM AUK, a market-town of the province o
Flanders, in the circle of Bruges, contal"ins ,
bitants, employed in making various woollen goods.
CORUMBAH, a town of Hindustan, in the province o
Babm and district of Chuta Nagpore, situated in a wild
uncuUi “ted country. It is 222 miles nortbmorth-west
and De-
^S^ioS^^^Srtbe^
was wholly unknown until the late Right iionourauie
Charles Greville. to whom the science of mineralogy is so
deeply indebted, obtained a clue by which he arrived a
one locality at least of this interesting mineral.
In the year 1767, Mr Berry, a very eminent seal-en¬
graver in Edinburgh, received from Dr Anderson of Ma¬
dras a box of crystals of adamantine spar, with informa¬
tion that it was with this substance all stones except
diamond were cut and polished in India. Mr Greville
obtained from his friend Colonel Cathcait some ci)S
tals, which that gentleman had also got Rom Dr An e -
son twenty years afterwards, and to which the native name
of corundim was attached. By this means Mr GrevUle
was enabled to put the exertions of others m requisition,
and after various fruitless attempts, tnrough the ass t
ance of Mr Edward Garrow, then (1792) residing at lnchi-
nopoly, he at length obtained a minute account of the stone,
jS known in that part of Hindustan. It seems that the
searching for and working with this substance is consign¬
ed, like most other branches of trade, to one particu ar
caste ; hence all others are wholly ignorant of it, and those
who belong to it are communicative or otherwise, just as
they may consider their interest affected, by dint of per¬
severance he at last discovered that the corundum was
found in the neighbourhood of Condrastra, a village about
fourteen miles from Permetty, which, according to nen-
nell’s map, is situated on the south side ot the Cavery, not
far from Caranel. Hither Mr Garrow repaired; and being,
as he says, the first European whom the natives had seen,
was as great a curiosity among them as Landers proved
to the Ashantees. Condrastra he found to be a very smal
hamlet, occupied by five families, whose race had obtained
a prescriptive right as miners to work m the pits, ine
implements by which their operations were carried on
were of a very rude nature; a broad pointed heavy non
crow with a wooden handle is the only one mentioned.
With this they formed their excavation, in a soil com¬
posed of gritty granite, masses of which, several pounds
weight, on being brought to the surface, were crushed,
and the crystals collected.
The receipt of this collection afforded Mr Greville the
means of writing the interesting account of the corundum
stone, which we find in the Transactions of the Toyal So¬
ciety of London, read 7th June 1798, in which its identi¬
ty with the sapphire, previously pointed out by Pelletier
and De Lametherie in 1787, was finally confirmed. It is
singular, that during that year other philosophers were
occupied with the investigation of this mineral, namely,
Werner in Germany, and Rome de Lisle in brance; the
former having sent to the latter two wooden models, which
COR
he pronounced to be the shape of the oriental ruby, and Coil,
• . x- Xu r-wsi al of adamantine stone dissert.
he pronounceu tu uc i— -- —- . ~
similar in form to the crystal of adamantine stone dissect-
ed by Pelletier and his colaborateur, and confirming the
hint originally thrown out by Rome de Lisle, of a connec¬
tion between the adamantine- stone and the gems distin¬
guished by the appellation of oriental.
^ Thus the name of corundum was given to the genus,
and was generally adopted by mineralogists.
Bournon, in his paper on this stone, read before the
Royal Society in 1802, divides it simply into perfect and
imperfect; and had he added a third sub-species, under
the name of granular or compact, his genus would have
been sufficiently comprehensive.
Mohs has described this mineral as the third species of
his genus corundum, under the name of rhombohedral co¬
rundum, which comprehends the sapphire and ruby, with
the other different-coloured telesies of Hauy, included in
Bournon’s perfect corundum. The brown and greenish-
grey coloured varieties, and the emery stone from Madras,
Naxos, &c. are also comprehended under the same head
by Mohs.
The first of these, the perfect corundum, presents an
infinite variety of colours. Red and blue are the most
common; and the former, when perfect in transparency
and colour, and of considerable size, vies with the diamond
itself in value; but it is seldom known to exceed half an
inch in length, with a proportionate breadth. The very
perfect crystals of dark blue are next in value, and then
the yellow ; but the resemblance of the last to topaz when
cut depreciates it considerably. These varieties are prin¬
cipally the produce of Pegu and Ceylon, but are found in
several other localities in Europe, especially in Auvergne
and St Gothard, but in small or foul stones.
Of the imperfect corundum we have abundance of the
o-reenish-grey colour from the Mysore and tne Malabai
coast, whilst the Carnatic and China afford the brown-co¬
loured variety in rude imperfect crystals. In the Mysore
it was originally found among the vegetable soil, evidently
derived from the decomposition of the granite on which
the soil rests, as noticed in the account by Mr Garrow.
The corundum occurs always imbedded in its matrix, not
in drusy cavities. It is very hard, and difficultly frangible;
but the natural joints are so perfect in the specimens of the
areenish-grey coloured variety, that it is very easily cleav-
able into the primitive rhomb. In the granular variety from
Naxos the sapphire occurs in distinct concretions of con¬
siderable size, and of a good colour. The compact va¬
riety is used by the natives of India for grinding and po¬
lishing all the different-coloured gems, whigh is done by
friction in the simplest manner. Use soon indents grooves
on the surface of the stone; and it is from these grooves
that the polished stones from India obtain such a con¬
stantly similar form, convex, oval, or circular. Pounaea
corundum, moistened with a little w'ater, expedites
operation of grinding and polishing, and is also used m
cutting and slicing stones. A bit of twisted wire stretched
on a bow of bamboo of about three feet long, forms, vviti
the grinding-stone, the whole necessary implements ot an
Indian lapidary. At Gellivara, m Sweden, it occurs
greenish-grey particles, dispersed in iron ore. ho
particulars, see Mineralogy. vrtVinre
CORUNNA, a city of Spain, in the kingdom or provinc
of Galicia. It is a sea-port of considerable importa. ’
with an excellent harbour, secure against all winds excq
those which blow from the points between the soul
the east. It is well fortified towards the sea, but an
which commands it renders it but an unperfec
tion against a superior force on the land side. . . x
parts of this city create a lively interest m every, ,
bosom, from having been the place in which was
COR
s that gallant officer Sir John Moore, who received his death-
wound in the moment of victory before the walls of this
s, city. The inhabitants of Corunna have since erected a
monument on the spot where this distinguished officer
was interred.
The name Corunna is a corruption of the Latin word
Colunma, given to this place on account of a pillar call¬
ed the tower of Hercules, erected by the Romans in the
most northern part of the peninsula. This tower has
been recently repaired, and, at an expense of 40,000 dol¬
lars, converted into a light-house. Corunna is situated
upon an irregular peninsula, the neck of which is occu¬
pied by the city, and defended by a chain of bastions.
On one of this chain is the citadel, and on the other the
fortress of St Diego. The strength of these works in¬
duced the inhabitants, after the evacuation of the British
army, to resolve on defence ; and though, from the heights
which command the work, the defence was unsuccessful,
it enabled them to obtain better terms of capitulation.
Corunna is a place of considerable trade; it has ex¬
tensive manufactories of linen and baizes, and carried on
commerce in these articles with the Spanish settlements
in America. Though it is not the capital of Galicia, yet
it is the head-quarters of the military and naval force, and
a considerable portion of the navy was formerly stationed
there. It carries on considerable fisheries, especially for
sardinias, which are salted for the consumption of the in¬
terior. It contains between 11,000 and 12,000 inhabit¬
ants, and is considered as one of the healthiest cities in
Spain. It is in long. 7. 43. 3. W. and lat. 43. 28. N.
CORUS, Omer, Homer, or Chomer, in Jewish anti¬
quities, a measure containing ten baths, or seventy-five
gallons and five pints, as a measure of things liquid, and
thirty-two pecks and one pint as a measure for things dry.
The cw«s or omer was most commonly a measure for things
dry, and the greatest that was used among the Jews, it
contained, according to the rabbin, ten ephahs or thirty
sata or seahs. Corns is the most usual term in the histo¬
rical writers, and omer or chomer among the prophets.
Corus is also used in some of our old writers for eight
bushels, or a quarter ; thus, decern coros tritici, sive decern
quarteria.
CORUSCATION, a glittering or gleam of light issuing
from any thing. It is chiefly used for a flash of lightning
darting from the clouds in time of thunder.
COllVORANT, otherwise written Cormorant. See
Ornithology.
CORY US, the Raven or Crow kind, a genus of birds
of the order of pica?. See Ornithology.
Corvhs (Haven), in Astronomy, a constellation of the
southern hemisphere, whose stars' in Ptolemy s catalogue
are seven, in Tycho’s the same number, and in the Bri-
I tannic catalogue nine.
Corvus, in Roman antiquity, a military engine, or ra-
tner gallery, moveable at pleasure by means of pulleys,
and chiefly used to cover the men in boarding the enemy’s
snips. The construction of the eorvus was this : On the
prow of their vessels was erected a round piece of timber,
ot about a foot and a half in diameter, and about twelve
jeet in length, upon the top of which was fixed a block
or pulley. Round this piece of timber there was laid a
stage or platform of boards four feet in breadth and about
eighteen feet in length, which was well framed and fast¬
ened with iron. The entrance was lengthwise, and it
1 woved about on the above-mentioned upright piece of
timber, as on a spindle, and could be hoisted up within six
met of the top. Round this was a sort of parapet, about
ie ieight of the knee, which was defended with upright
ars of iion sharpened at the end; and towards the top
ltre was a ring> by the help of which and a pulley or
COR
tackle the engine was raised or lowered at pleasure. With
this moveable gallery they boarded the enemy’s vessek
when they did not oppose broadside to broadside, some¬
times by their bows and sometimes by their sterns, as
occasion served. Yv hen they had grappled the enemy
with these iron spikes, if the vessels happened to swing
broadside to broadside, they then entered from all parts •
but in case they attacked them by the bow, they entered
two and two under cover of this machine, the foremost
defending the foreparts, and those who followed the flanks,
keeping the boss of their bucklers level with the top of
the parapet. 1
CORWEN, a town in the hundred of Edernyon, in the
county of Merioneth, in Wales, 202 miles from London,
on the new post road to Dublin by Holyhead. The in¬
habitants amounted in 1811 to 1417, in 1821 to 1742, and
in 1831 to 1980.
CORY A TE, Thomas, an extraordinary personage, who
seems to have made himself notorious by his whimsical
extravagances, was the son of a clergyman, and born at
Oldcombe, in Somersetshire, in 1577. He acquired Greek
and Latin at Oxford, and proceeding afterwards to Lon¬
don, was received into the household of Henry prince of
Yv ales. If Coryate was not over witty himself, he got ac¬
quainted with the wits of that time, and served to exercise
their abilities, having more learning than judgment. He
Has a great peripatetic, for, in 1608, he took a long journey
on foot, and, after he returned, published his travels under
the strange title of Crudities hastily gol)bled up in Five
Months' Travels in France, Savoy, Italy, Rheetia, Helvetia,
some parts of High Germany, and the Netherlands, Lon¬
don, 1611, 4to. In 1612 he set out again with a resolu¬
tion to spend ten years in travelling, and proceeded first
to Constantinople; but after travelling over great part of
the East, he died of a flux at Surat, in the East Indies.
CORY BANTES, in Antiquity, priests of Cybele, who
danced and capered to the sound of flutes and drums.
Catullus, in his poem calledgives a picturesque de¬
scription of the Corybantes, whom he represents as sheer
madmen. Accordingly, Maximus Tyrius says, that those
possessed with the spirit of the Corybantes, as soon as they
heard the sound of a flute, were seized with an enthusiasm,
and lost the use of their reason ; and hence the Greeks
used the word •/.osvfictvruv, to coryhantize, to signify a per¬
son’s being transported, or possessed with a devil. Some
say that the Corybantes were all eunuchs ; and that it is on
this account that Catullus in his Atys always uses femi¬
nine epithets and relatives in speaking of them.
Diodorus Siculus remarks, that Corybas, son of Jason
and Cybele, passing through Phrygia with his uncle Dar-
clanus, instituted there the worship of the mother of the
gods, and gave his own name to the priests. But Strabo
states it as the opinion of some, that the Corybantes were
children of Jupiter and Calliope, and the same with the
Cabiri. Others, however, think that the word had its ori¬
gin from the circumstance, that the Corybantes always
went dancing along, or tossing the head.
CORYBANTICA, a festival held in Crete in memory
of the Corybantes, who educated Jupiter when concealed
in that island frorp his father Saturn, when the latter
wished to devour him.
CORYCEUM, in Antiquity, that part of the gymnasium
where people undressed. It was otherwise called apody-
terion. •
CQRYGOMACHIA, among the ancients, was a sort of
exercise in which they pushed forwards a ball suspended
from the ceiling, and at its return either caught it with
their hands or suffered it to meet their body. Oribasius
informs us that it was recommended for the purpose of
extenuating too gross bodies.
381
Corwen
II
Cory-
comachia.
382
cos
Corym-
bium
rORYMBIUM, in Antiquity, an ornament of the hair
worn by the women. Its form was that of a corymbus.
II CORYMBUS properly signifies a cluster of ivy ben es.
Cosening. Amon£r botanists it is a mode of flowering, in ninth t
v-^v ' ^SSGr ^ partial flower-stalks are produced along the com¬
mon stalk on both sides; and, though of unequal lengths,
rise to the same height, so as to form aflat and even sm-
^CORYPhJeUS, in the ancient tragedy, was the chief
or leader of the company who composed the chor us.
word is formed from the Greek the top of dm he-
Whenever the chorus took part in the action, the c y
nhiu" spoke for all the rest, in quality of a person of the
drama Sing the course of the acts. Hence coryphteus
passed into a* general name for the chief »r P™cmg °f
anv company, corporation, sect, or opinion. Ulus bus .
SI of Antioch is called the coryphatus of the codnm of
Nice - and Cicero calls Zeno the coryphteus of the b.oics.
CORYVRECKAN, Whirlpool of, a dangerous pas¬
sage in the sea, about a mile in breadth, which lies be¬
tween the south end of Scarba and the north point of Jura,
on the west coast of Argyllshire. It is so named from a
Voung Danish prince who perished there. lowaids the
Scarba side the sea is in almost perpetual tuITlu l’ arl®!n°
from the narrowness of the passage through which the tide
flows in and out to and from the sound of Jura. 1 he tm-
bulence of the water may also in part be ascribed to the
presence of a pyramidal rock which rises with a lapid ac¬
clivity from the bottom, which is about one hundred fa¬
thoms down, to within fifteen feet of the surface. By tl s
interference the current is forced to assume various intri¬
cate directions; and, on the other hand, a countei cur-
rent is produced, chiefly on the Scarba side, whose return
into the main stream produces those gyrations, resembling
the swells of Swinna and Stroma, which have been magni¬
fied into a whirlpool capable of engulphing ships. It is
only when high tides and violent winds prevail that the
place assumes the frightful character so opposed to the
security of vessels. The place is generally avoided, how¬
ever, by boats and small craft.
CORYZA, in Medicine, a catarrh of the nose. See
Medicine, Index.
CORZOLA. See Curzola. . , , .
COSAH, a river of Hindustan, which has its source in
the Himalaya Mountains, to the north of Nepaul, from
which, after a winding course of about 400 miles m a
south-south-east direction, it joins the Ganges in the
Bengal district of Purneah. .... f
COSCINOMANCY, the art of divination by means ot
a sieve. The word comes from xogxim, cribrum, a sieve,
and imvrtia, divination. The sieve being suspended, a
formula of words is rehearsed, after which it is taken be¬
tween two fingers only, and the names of the parties sus¬
pected repeated ; when he at whose name the sieve turns,
trembles, or shakes, is reputed guilty of the evil in ques-
This is a very ancient species of divination; for Theo¬
critus, in his third Idyllion, mentions a woman who was
very skilful in coscinomancy. It was also sometimes prac¬
tised by suspending the sieve by a thrpad, or fixing it to
the points of a pair of sheers, giving it room to turn, and
naming, as before, the parties suspected; in which last
manner eoscinomancy is still employed in some parts of
England. It appears from Theocritus that it was not only
used to find out persons unknown, but also to discover
the secrets of those who were known.
COSECANT, in Geometry, the secant of an arch which
is the complement of another to 90°.
COSENING, or Cozening, in Law, an offence by which
any thing is done deceitfully, in or out of contracts, that
Cosl
ci
COS
cannot be fitly described by any special name. In the
civil law it is called stellionatus. . , r
COSENZA, a city of Italy, the capital of the Meapolitan
province of Calabria Citeriore. It is built in the lovely
valley of the same name, at the junction of the river Crati
with the Busiento. Within the walls the inhabitants are
7900 ; but the suburbs and adjoining villages, the residents
in which frequent the city daily on their various affairs,
contain upwards of 45,000 souls. Being the only place of
trade in the province, whatever excess of produce it yields
is exported from Cosenza, which makes the city swarm
with people. It is the chief market for silk, and there
are some manufactories of heavy articles ot iron ware.
Long. 16. 25. E. Eat. 39. 34. N.
COSFELD. See Kosfeld. ,. , „
COSHERING, in the feudal customs, a kind of right
of the lords to lie and feast themselves and their follow¬
ers at their tenants’ houses. The word coshering may per¬
haps be derived from the old English word coshe, a cot or
COCOS*INE, in Trigonometry, the sine of an arch which
is the complement of another to 90°.
COSMETIC, in Physic, any medicine or preparation
which renders the skin soft and white, or helps to oeau-
tify and improve the complexion.
COSMICAL, a term in Astronomy, expressing one of
the poetical risings of a star. Thus a star is said to rise
cosmically when it rises with the sun, or with that point
of the elliptic in which the sun is at that time; and the
cosmical setting is when a star sets in the west at the
same time that the sun rises in the east.
COSMOGONY, in Physics, signifies the science of the
formation of the universe. It is formed of xotf/io,y the
world, and ym/hcti, I am born, or exist.
COSMOGRAPHY, the description of the world, or
the art which teaches the construction,'figure, disposition,
and relation of all the parts of the world, with the manner
of representing them on a plane surface. The word comes
from xo^oe, world, and ygaf«, / describe. Cosmography
consists chiefly of two parts ; Astronomy, which shows the
structure of the heavens and the disposition of the stars;
and Geography, which shows those of the earth.
COSMOLABE (from xocy^og, world, and 1 take),
an ancient mathematical instrument, serving to measure
distances both in the heavens and on the earth. Ihe
cosmolabe is in a great measure the same with the as ro-
labe It is also called pantacosm, or the universal instru¬
ment, by Morgard, in a treatise written expressly on this
instrument, and printed in 1612. >.
COSMOLOGY (from xoo/ao;, world, and Xoyoj, discourse),
the science of the world in general. This Wolfius calls ge¬
neral or transcendental cosmology, and has written a trea¬
tise on the subject, in which he endeavours to explain how
the world arose from simple substances, and treats of tne
general principles, of the modifications of material things,
of the elements of bodies, of the laws of motion, of the per¬
fection of the world, and of the order and course ot nature.
COSMOPOLITE, or Cosmopolitan, a term some¬
times used to signify a person who has no fixedJiving
or place of abode, or a man who is a stranger nowliere.
The Word conies from the Greek xotsficg, world, an «> •/,,
city. One of the ancient philosophers being interrogatea
what country he belonged to, answered, he was a coswo-
wliat country ne ueiungeu iu, ~ , ,
polite, in other words, an inhabitant or citizen ol Re w •
COSNE, an arrondissement of the Nieyre, m ‘ ’
extending over 620 square miles. It is divided in o
cantons, and subdivided into sixty-six communes, conta
ing 58,667 inhabitants. The chief place, of the ;
name, is situated at the junction iNoua.n vv.th M
Loire. It contains 734 houses, and 5394 inhabitants.
c, eto
C; to.
COS
is a place where anchors and other heavy iron articles are
manufactured, especially cannon balls for the navy. Long.
2. 50. E. Lat. 47. 24. N.
COSOCETO, a town of Italy, in the Neapolitan pro¬
vince of Calabria Ulteriore. In 1783 an earthquake de¬
stroyed in this town, and eleven villages around it, 3515
cos
persons.
COSSACKS are certain Russian tribes who inhabit the
southern and eastern parts of the empire. They are a
species of military democracy, being independent of the
imperial government in their internal administration, and
paying no taxes into its treasury, but performing the duty
of soldiers instead, in which capacity .they guard the fron¬
tiers upon which they reside. Nearly all of them belong
to the Graeco-Russian church. Both on account of their
descent and their present condition, they have been di¬
vided into two principal classes, the Cossacks of Little
Russia (Malo-Russia), and those of the Don. Both classes,
but especially the latter, have collateral branches. From
those of the Don, who are the most civilized, are descended
the Volgaic, the Terek, the Grebeskoi, the Uralian, and
the Siberian Cossacks. To the other race belong the Za-
porogians or Haydamaks, who are the wildest and most
barbarous of all. As to the origin of the people or their
name, writers are by no means agreed. Some derive both
races from the province of Cosachia. In the Turkish lan¬
guage cazak signifies a robber ; but in the Tartar tongue it
simply means a soldier lightly armed for rapid motion.
Their origin is very probably Russian, and their language
is fundamentally so, although mixed with Turkish and Po¬
lish words. The Cossacks of Little Russia took their rise
in the fourteenth century, when the invasion of Russia on
the part of Poland forced numbers of the inhabitants to
migrate to the banks of the Dnieper, where they gradu¬
ally established themselves, and spread in the direction
of the Bog and Dniester. The Polish king Stephen Ba-
thori consolidated the constitution of these warlike tribes,
and formed them into regiments under a commander-in¬
chief, entitled a Hetman or Headman. Some attempts to
abridge their liberties, and introduce the Catholic religion,
drove them in 1654 under the protection of Russia, from
which they revolted in 1708, a considerable body of them
joining the standard of Charles XII. under their hetman
Mazeppa, whom Lord Byron has immortalized. This act
drew down upon the whole people the vengeance of the
Czar Peter I. who, after the battle of Pultowa, ordered
them to be extirpated. With this branch of Cossacks was
formerly united the Haydamaks, who, instead of propagat¬
ing their race by marriage, perpetuated themselves as a
nation principally by kidnapping children. They are still
a rude uncivilized race. The Cossacks of the Don have
been in the service of Russia since the sixteenth century.
They occupy an extensive territory on both sides of the
Bon, living in villages, and supporting themselves while
at home by fishing and the breeding of cattle, in prefer¬
ence to agricultural pursuits, for which they have little
inclination. Their capital, Tscherkask, is a sort of Tartar
Venice. It is situated on some islands in the Don: the
muses are built on high wooden piles, and connected with
one another by small bridges. It contains about 15,000
inhabitants; and, besides numerous churches, richly adorn¬
ed with the precious metals and gems, it possesses a re-
&u ar theatre, and a school where several languages and
sciences are taught. As this city is very unhealthy, from
the overflowing of the river, another called New Tscher-
hask has been recently built, to which the inhabitants are
gradually removing. For further particulars respecting
the Lossacks, see Russian Empire.
OOSSAIO, a town,of Italy, in the province of Biella,
n kingdom of Sardinia. It is situated on the canal of
Santhia, and contains 2470 inhabitants, whose chief pur¬
suit is the cultivation of vineyards.
• DE Geniste, an order of knighthood instituted
In. , NT’ ky Eouis IX. on the occasion of his marriage
with Margaret of Provence. The motto on the collar of
this order was Exaltat humiles.
COS8IMBAZAR, a large manufacturing town of Hin¬
dustan, in the province of Bengal, nearly adjoining the
southern suburbs of Moorshedabad, of which it may be
considered as the port. It is situated on the south-east
bank of the Bhagarutty river, and is one of the largest
trading towns in Bengal. It has long been celebrated for
its silk manufactures, and for the manufacture of stockings,
which are all knit by the women and children in the vici¬
nity, and are in the highest repute. The neighbourhood
abounds with mulberry trees, on which silk worms are fed ;
and the quantity of silk produced not only supplies all
that is consumed in the manufacture of carpets, satins,
and other stuffs, but also leaves a surplus for exportation.
The island of Cossimbazar, or the tract encompassed by
the Bhagarutty, Jelling}', and Ganges rivers, is a perfectly
flat bed of sand; but the annual overflow of the river
leaves a rich deposit, and fertilizes this otherwise unpro¬
ductive tract, ihis island abounds with all descriptions
of game, from the tiger and the boar to the inferior sorts,
such as hare, deer, partridge, &c. and all sorts of aquatic
birds. I he Cossimbazar river is named the Bhagarutty
or Bhagirathi, and is reckoned a sacred branch of the
Ganges. During the rainy season Cossimbazar has a
most extensive water communication, which affords great
facilities for its trade. I he East India Company had sta¬
tioned agents here at a very early period for the pur¬
chase of goods, but their factory was not built till 1706.
In 1756 it was taken and plundered. Long. 88. 15. E
Lat. 24. 10. N.
COSSIMCOTTA, a town of Hindustan, in the Northern
Circars, which was taken by the British in 1758. Long.
83. 10. E. Lat. 17. 40. N.
COSTA, or ACOSTA, Christopher, a celebrated bo¬
tanist of the sixteenth century. He was born in Africa,
being of Portuguese descent; and, in order to perfect him¬
self in the knovvledge of simples, went into Asia, where
he was taken prisoner; but he found means to make his
escape, and, after several voyages, practised physic at
Burgos. He wrote, 1. A 1 realise on Indian Drugs and
Medicines ; 2. \ oyages to the Indies ; 3. A book in praise
of women; and other works.
COSTA RICA, a province of Guatemala, extending
from Nicaragua to the district of Chiriqui, in tlie jurisdic¬
tion of \eraguas, a distance of one hundred and sixty
leagues from west to east; and from the Atlantic to the
Pacific Ocean, a distance of sixty leagues from north to
south. Its limit on the Atlantic is from the mouth of the
river San Juan to the little island called the Escudo de
Veraguas; and on the Pacific, from the river Alvarado,
the boundary of the province of Nicaragua, to the river
Boruca, which terminates the kingdom of Terra Firma to
the westward. For the most part the climate is warm,
but in some places very temperate. The soil, which is
not fertile, yields cocoa, tobacco, and other productions of
warm climates. Wheat, and such other articles as are
peculiar to colder regions, are raised in the mountainous
pai ts, but all in scanty proportions. There are mines of
gold, silver, and copper, but these are scarcely more pro¬
ductive than the surface of the sod. Within the govern¬
ment of Costa Rica there are one city, three towns, and
ten villages; and the whole number of inhabitants in the
province is estimated at about 38,000; a small proportion
compared with the extent of territory, and a great diminu¬
tion of its ancient numbers. The chief city, which is said
388
Cosse de
Geniste
II
Costa Ilica.
384
Costal
COS
to be the most ancient in the kingdom, is Cartago. It
li stands in a healthy situation in the heart of the province, m
Costard, w 82.46. W. and lat. 9. 10. N. It contains a church, a
Franciscan convent, a sanctuary, and two oratonos, am
has a population of upwards of 8000. Next to the capita^
the most populous town is Villa Nueva dc San Jose, which
stands in a valley at a short distance from Cartago. ihis
province has two ports, one on the Atlantic, and one on
th COSTAL, an appellation given by anatomists to several
parts belonging to the sides. Thus we meet with costal
muscles, vertebrae, and the like. TfaUan historian
COSTANZO, Angelo di, a celebrated I^n histc nan
and poet of the sixteenth century, descended °t a nob e
Neapolitan family, and lord of Cantalupo, was bom at
NaXs about the year 1507. Connected by ties of friend-
Sip with Sannazaro, and several oth^|;e^eX intis taTte
lived in the capital, he was encouraged by them in hlsJ^ie
6,7 study and in the design of writing a history of he
kin^doin ’of Naples, which was still a desideratum , the
work of Collenuaccio being deemed incomplete, paitia ,
and full of errors. He employed more than foi ,y yea
in researches, particularly in the perusal and examination
of the old chronicles and ancient titles, and then puohshc
at Naples the first part of his work in eight book®* lh.®
specimen of his labours appeared in the year 1572, m
quarto; but the author, being dissatisfied with his pe
formance, set himself to correct, augment, and reconstruct
it almost from the foundation. At length, in lo82, the
work came forth in the shape in which it now appears,
under the title of Le Istorie del Regno di A a poll dal
divise in Hbri, Aquila, folio an edmon
which has now become very scarce even in Italy, i e
author therein treats of the period from the death of the
Emperor Frederick II. to the war of Milan under King
Ferdinand I.; and although he has fallen into some er-
•ors, which were perhaps unavoidable m such a work, yet
. . ■ .  ..c nf Nnnles is still regaided as
COT
in the British Museum, respecting the meaning of the (
7 I. tlmp nTtpr tins Ijp nnrlpr^
rors, which were pemapo ^ i
his history of the kingdom of Naples is still regarded as
one of the best extant. It was reprinted at Naples, but
very incorrectly, in 1710, 4to ; and again, but with more
care in 1733, 4to. Lastly, it has been embodied in the
Great Milan Collection of Classic Authors, 180o, 3 vols.
8vo. Costanzo, who died at Naples about the year 1591,
also occupies a distinguished rank among the poets or his
age. His master in poetry was Berardino Rota, whom he
greatly surpassed; and although he made no change m
the form of the sonnet, which he adopted as he found
it yet he gave it a turn which the best poets have since
taken as their model. His poetry in general is distin¬
guished for the union of gravity with sensibility, which,
in truth, constitutes its peculiar characteristic. His Rime,
originally scattered throughout different collections, ap¬
peared for the first time together at Bologna, m 1 <0J,
12mo. They have since been several times reprinted; but
of all the editions, the best are those of Comino, 1 adua,
1723, 1728, and 1738, 8vo. . ! i i c
COSTARD, George, a clergyman of the church o.
England, and author of several learned works, was born
about the year 1710. He was educated at Vvadham
College'OxLd, and took the degree of A.M in 1773.
The first ecclesiastical preferment he obtained was that
of curate of Islip, in Oxfordshire. In 1747 he publish¬
ed in 8vo, some observations tending to illustrate the
Book of Job. In 1750 he published two dissertations ;
one on the meaning of the word Kesita, mentioned in
Job (chap. xlii. ver. 11); and another on the signification
of the word Hermes. In 1752 he published in 8vo, at
Oxford, Dissertationes dace Critico-sacrce, quorum pnma
explicatur, Ezek. xii. 18, altera vero 2 Reg. x. 22. In
1775 he wrote a letter to Dr Birch, which is preserved
in the critisn nAuacu...,  . o —
Phrase spheera barbarica. Some time after this he under
took to publish a second edition of Dr Hyde s Histona Cotk
Reliqionis veterum Persarum, ecrumque Magorum, which He
was accordingly printed under his inspection and with his
corrections, at the Clarendon Press at Oxford, in 4to. In
1760 Mr Costard’s extensive learning having recommended
him to the notice of Lord Chancellor Northington, he ob¬
tained, by the favour of that nobleman (in June 1764), the
vicarage of Twickenham, in Middlesex, in which situation
he continued till his death. In 1797 he published, in one
volume quarto, The History of Astronomy, with its appli¬
cation to Geography, History, and Chronology, and occa¬
sionally exemplified by the Globes. This work was chiefly
intended for the use of students, and contains a distinct
view of the several improvements made in geography and
astronomy. In 1778 he published, in 8vo, A Letter to
Nathaniel Brassey Flalhed, Esq. containing some Remarks
on his preface to the Code of Gentoo Laws. Ihis ap¬
pears to have been the last of his publications. It contains
criticisms which were intended to invalidate the opinion
which Mr Halhed had conceived concerning the great an¬
tiquity of the Gentoo laws ; and also arguments against a
notion which had been adopted by several writers, drawn
from the observation of natural phenomena, that the world
is far more ancient than it is represented to be by the
Hebrew' chronology. Mr Costard died on the 10th of
January 1782. He was a man of uncommon learning,
and eminently skilled in Grecian and oriental literature.
COTA, Rodriguez, a Spanish poet, born at Toledo in
the fifteenth century, was surnamed El Tio, or the Uncle.
No details of his life are found in any of the biographies.
He is believed to have flourished under the reign of Don
Juan II., king of Castille; and the celebrated tragi-co-
medy of Calista y Melibea, as well as a satire against Juan
and his court, entitled Mingo Rebulgo, are attributed to
him. The tragi-comedia, which is also known under the
name of Celestina, had been several times printed before
the dates of the Seville and Madrid editions, which appear¬
ed respectively in 1539 and 1601. Celestina has been
ascribed by some to Juan de Mena; but the slightest at-
tention to the style of this poet, which is altogether dif¬
ferent from that of Cota, shows that there is not the least
foundation for such an opinion. The tragi-comedy, which
was originally written in prose, was renderfdCastl ;
lian verse by Juan de Sedeno, Salamanca, 1640,41°. It
has also been translated into French, Paris, 152/ 15E,
and Lyons, 1529, 8vo; Italian, Venice, lol9, 1533, 8vo ;
and English, under the title of The Spanish Rogue, but
without a date. , • i, •
COTANGENT, the tangent of an arch which is the
complement of another to 90°. . c
COTCHUNG, or Coochung, a district of Khorassan,
in Persia. It is governed by an independent chieftain,
who can bring 12,000 men into the field. He resides m a
town of the same name, twenty-three forsungs or ninety
miles E.S.E. of Merid. tt- j in
COTE-C AUNGRA, a strong fortress of Hindustan, m
the province of Lahore, which was taken by the Emperor
Acbar after a year’s siege. In the neighbourhood is the
celebrated temple of Nagur Cote, which continued to e-
ceieorateu lempie ui  — --
tain its reputation for sanctity many years after the coun¬
try was invaded by the Mabommedans. It is IK miles
E.N.E. from the city of Lahore. Long. io. 42. h. u
32. 20. N. _ j . n ti1P
Cote d’Or, a department of France, formed out of tne
countries Montagne, Auxois, and Dijonais, parts o
cient kingdom of Burgundy. It is bounded on the non
by the departments of the Aube and the Lppei - ’
on the east by the Upper Saone and Jura, on the soutn
!
COT
ins by the Saone-Loire, and on the west by the Nievre and
the Yonne. It extends over 3635 square miles, and the
• inhabitants amount to 354,436 persons. The divisions are
P iutofourarrondissements, thirty-six cantons, and 733 com¬
munes. It may be called a hilly, but scarcely a mountain¬
ous district. A range of hills runs from within two miles of
Dijon to the river Dheune, which, from its richness in the
most excellent wine, has given the name to the department.
The soil is generally good, producing the best of wheat and
other grain, and affording admirable pasture. It is a well-
watered province, containing many rivers, none of which,
except the Saone, is navigable, but all assist in fertilizing
the land. No branch of husbandry, however, is equal in
extent to the cultivation of the vines, which yield the se¬
veral varieties of Burgundy wine. As one fourth of the
department is covered with woods, the proprietors gain
much from other districts in which fuel is scarce. The
chief products are wine, corn, maize, flax, hemp, honey,
wax, and sheep’s wool. There are some iron mines, which
give occupation to about 10,000 workmen, and yield about
20,000 tons of that metal yearly. Some ironmongery and
cutlery goods are manufactured ; and also some linen and
woollen cloths, chiefly for domestic use.
COTELEUIUS, John Baptist, fellow of the Sorbonne,
andregius professor of Greek, was born at Nismes, in Lan¬
guedoc, in 1627. Tie made a collection of the fathers who
lived in the apostolic age, which he published at Paris in
two volumes folio in 1672, revised and corrected from se¬
veral manuscripts, with a Latin translation and notes. Lie
also published Monumenta Ecclesice Grcecce, in three vols.
being a collection of Greek tracts from the king’s and M.
Colbert’s libraries, which had never before been publish¬
ed ; and to these he added a Latin translation and notes.
He intended to .prosecute the work further; but his in¬
tense studies ruined his constitution, and deprived him of
life in 1686.
COTERELLUS. Cotarius and Coterellus, according to
Spelman and Du Fresne, are servile tenants ; but in Dooms¬
day-book and other ancient manuscripts, there appears a
distinction, as well in their tenure and quality as in their
name; for the cotarius had a free soccage tenure, and paid
a stated firm or rent in provisions or money, with some
occasional customary services; whereas the coterellus
seems to have held in mere villenage, and his person, issue,
and goods, were disposable at the pleasure of the lord.
COTERIE, a term adopted from the French trading
associations or partnerships, where each person advances
his quota of stock, and receives his proportion of gain;
and it retains its original meaning when applied to little
assemblies or companies associated for mirth and social
enjoyment, where each one furnishes his quota of plea¬
santry.
COTES, Roger, a celebrated mathematician and phi¬
losopher, was born in 1682, at Burbach, in the county of
Leicester, of which his father was rector or curate. Be¬
fore his twelfth year he showed a decided predilection for
the mathematics, which one of his uncles afforded him the
means of cultivating; and he made such rapid progress in
science, and in the learned languages, that, in 1706, when
he had only attained the age of twenty-four, he was ap¬
pointed to the professorship of astronomy and experimen¬
tal philosophy, then newly founded by Thomas Plume,
archdeacon of Rochester. He took orders in 1713, and,
the same year, he published, at the request of his friend
Br Bentley, the second edition of the Principia Mathe-
matica of Newton, which he enriched with an excellent
preface. Ihis, with an analytical memoir, entitled Logo-
metria, and a description of the great meteor which ap-
peared in England on the 6th March 1716, inserted in the
Philosophical Transactions, is all that the author himself
VOL. VII.
COT
385
published, having been prematurely cut off, on the 5th of Coteswold
June 1716, at the early age of thirty-three. He had com- II
menced researches on optics, in reference to which New- Fotiote.
ton observed, “ If Mr Cotes had lived, we should have
known something.” With regard to the pure mathematics,
the principal discovery of Cotes consists in a theorem,
which still Dears his name, and which furnishes the means
of integrating by logarithms and arcs of the circle the
rational fractions whose denominator is a binomial; ex¬
pressions which had already exercised the ingenuity of
Leibnitz, and of John Bernoulli, by whose labours, in con¬
junction with those of Euler, this branch of the integral
calculus soon assumed a more convenient and simple form.
Cotes having kept this theorem among his papers, along
with other writings which indicated great sagacity, these
fragments were collected and arranged by Robert Smith,
his relative and successor in the chair of astronomy, who
published them under the title of Hamionia Mcnsurarum,
sive Analysis et Synthesis per Rationum et Angularum
mensuras promotes ; accedunt alia Opuscula Mathematica.
Cambridge, 1722, 4to. The “ Analyse des Mesures, des
Rapports, et des Angles, ou Reduction des Integrations
aux Logarithmes et aux Arcs de Cercle,” Paris, 1747, pub¬
lished by' the English Benedictin Walmsley, is rather a
paraphrase than a translation of the Harmonia Mensura-
rnm. Cotes also left a valuable work on natural philoso¬
phy, which was published by Robert Smith, and translat¬
ed into French, under the title of “ Le9ons de Physique
Experimentale sur 1’Equilibre des Liqueurs,” Paris, 1740,
4to, with figures. At Lemgo and at Paris was reprinted
the Memoir entitled AEstimalio Errorum in mixta Ma-
thesi, sen Variationes partium Trianguli plani et sphcerici,
which had originally appeared along with, and subjoined
to, the Harmonia Mensurarum. Cotes was much regret¬
ted by his most distinguished contemporaries; and Dr
Bentley honoured his memory with an elegant Latin epi¬
taph.
COTESWOLD, several sheep-cotes, and sheep feeding
on hills. It comes from the Saxon cote, that is, casa, a
cottage, and roold, a place where there is no wood.
COTHURNUS, Buskin, a very high shoe or patten
raised on soles of cork, worn by the ancient actors in tra¬
gedy, in order to make them appear taller and more like
the heroes they represented, most of whom were supposed
to be giants. It covered the greater part of the leg, and
was tied beneath the knee. iEschylus is said to have in¬
vented the cothurnus.
COTICE, or Cotise, in Heraldry, is the fourth part of
the bend, which with us is seldom or never borne except in
couples, with a bend between them, whence probably the
name. It comes from the Trench cote, side, cotices being
borne, as it were, beside the bend. A bend thus bordered
is said to be cotised, cotice. Thus, it is said, he bears sable
on a bend cotised argent three cinquefoils.
^ COIIGNAC, a market-town of the department of the
Var, in Trance, containing 3227 inhabitants, who trade in
leather and the fruits grown in its vicinity.
CO 1ILLON, the name of a brisk dance, in which eight
persons take part. I he term is French, and signifies an
under petticoat.
COIIOTE, a small district of Hindustan, in the pro¬
vince of Malabar, which, according to the report given in
by surveyors, contains an area of 312 British square miles.
I he face of the country, like that of the other parts of Ma¬
labar, contains low hills separated by narrow valleys, which
are fit for the cultivation of rice. Towards the Ghauts
these hills rise to a considerable height; the soil is every¬
where good, though it has been estimated that not more
than one thirtieth part of the two districts is too steep,
rocky, or barren for cultivation. This country was never
3 c
386
COT
COT
Cottage
System.
• i • nnltivated • and its unsettled state, with the cala-
Cotopaxi lug _ J wh|tch ;t ha’g suffered) would account tor its lying ah
notp Tt continued long in a state of disordei, horn
™e obstinate resistance made by the inhabitants to the
a L-nn of the British. To this they were encouraged
by”he difficult nature of the country, which, w^rever it
rsyuncultivated, is covered by stately foresU The pro
duce of these woods is of very little value. t,
thich thewood-covered hiHs are intersected a^fit for the
cultivation of rice, “dn'anSe In ISOo'he „PS«
cotton, cassia, cinnamon, an“ cottce. beg
of houses was estimated a “87> ^S'^S ‘this ter-
inhabiting the ^ hills. Th ^ 1^^ doth. in ex.
ritorv are rice, salt, salt nsn, , . , rp, • mun-
change for which Us om prod^js expta ^ 17 an(,
hwhL government; but having proved himself modequate
to the task, he was superseded by a European officer, and
allowed to retire with a pension.
COTOPAXI, the most remarkable volcanic mountai
nfihp Andes in Quito, thirty-five miles south-south-east of
Quito It rises 18,898 feet above the level of the sea, and is
considered as the most beautiful of the colossal summits of
the Andes. Its eruptions have been numerous and very
destructive ; those which took place m 1698, 1738, 174 ,
1744,1766,1768, and 1803, are the most remarkable. Wit
respect to the explosion of 1803, Humboldt observes, At
the port of Guayaquil, fifty-two leagues distant in a straight
line from the crater, we heard day and night the noise of
this volcano, like continued discharges of a battery; and
we distinguished these tremendous sounds even on the
Pacific Ocean.” The eruption of 1698 destroyed the city
of Taeunga, together with three fourths of its inhabitants.
The appearance of this volcano is in the highest degree
maiestic and sublime. It is a perfect cone, and, being
covered with a thick layer of snow, shines at sunset with
dazzling splendour, standing forth in bold relief upon the
azure heavens. Humboldt found it difficult to ascend the
mountain as far as the line of perpetual snow, and he pro¬
nounces it impossible ever to reach the summit.
COTRONE, a city of Italy, in the Neapolitan province
of Calabria Ulteriore. It is situated on the sea shore, and
is walled and defended by a strong fort. It contains 4600
inhabitants, who are occupied in various trades, and in
seafaring pursuits. r.. t r
COTT, or Cot, a particular sort of bed-frame, suspend¬
ed from the beam of a ship, for the officers to sleep in, be¬
tween decks. This contrivance is much more convenient
at sea than either the hammocks or fixed cabins, being a
large piece of canvass sewed into the form ol a chest,
about six feet in length and one foot in depth, and from
two to three feet in width. It is extended by a square
wooden frame with a canvass bottom.
COTTACOTTA, a town of Hindustan, in the Bala-
ghaut ceded territories, fifty-seven miles north by west
from Cuddapah. It was formerly the residence of the ra¬
jah. Long. 78. 47. E. Lat. 15. 16. N.
COTTAPATAM, a town of Hindustan, on the sea coast
of the Southern Carnatic, sixty-five miles south from Tan-
iore. Long. 79. 15. E. Lat. 9. 58. N*
COTTAGE, a little house for habitation, with a small
portion of land attached to it.
CottK f
" t
Cottif
fystl;
W
COTTAGE SYSTEM.
Among the various schemes devised for checking the
progress of pauperism in England, and for augmenting t
comfort and happiness of the lower classes, few seem to
have obtained a greater degree of popularity, or to be more
generally patronised, than the cottage system ;-that
system which proposes, under certain restrictions, to fa
rush the industrious poor with cottages and small pieces
of land, to be used for the purpose of keeping kine, rais¬
ing potatoes, or for some other species of husbandry.
It is not our intention to detail the various peculiarities
of the plans of different authors by whom the efficacy of
the cottage system has been maintained. We snail con¬
tent ourselves with examining the fundamental principles
on which the whole scheme is founded; and, in so doing,
we shall endeavour to resolve the important question, whe¬
ther the more minute division of landed property, and the
letting of small farms and patches of ground, to any con¬
siderable portion of the lower classes, would tend to im¬
prove their condition and character, and to reduce the
sum total of human misery.
As the effects of the cottage or small farming system
on the condition of the poor must, in a great measure, de¬
pend on the fact of its tending to increase or diminish
the exchangeable value of raw produce, it will be neces¬
sary, first of all, to inquire into its probable operation m
this respect. If it should tend to reduce the price of
corn, cattle, &c. or to render their acquisition less diffi¬
cult, that would be a strong presumption in its favour.
But, on the other hand, if it should tend to raise the price
of these articles of provision, or to make them exchange
for a greater quantity of labour, its introduction would
obviously be prejudicial to the community, and especially
to the labouring classes. . . . .
We have already endeavoured to show that the price of Ell oi
raw produce has a natural tendency to rise as society
vances, and as a country becomes more populous, prin¬
ciples of the Corn Laws.) The best lands being fiist ert,
brought under cultivation, recourse is afterwards had othe :e
those which are inferior, and require a greater ^1 Jof jk
of labour to make them yield the same produce, fher*
price of this produce, which is always regulated by ie
quantity of labour necessary to its production, is there ore
increased ; and it exchanges for a greater portion of those
commodities the production of which has not also become
more difficult. ..
Had the inventive genius of man been limit
powers ; had the ploughs, harrows, and other madiine a
implements used in agriculture,at once attamedriien ut
most degree of perfection, and remained everafeimt
same state; the rise in the price of rff Prod«ce h
quent to the increase of population would have been much
more obvious. When in such a state ot tlBRgs
necessary to resort to poorer soils to rai*e ^
tional quantities of food, a corresponduig inm ease ot
nual labour would have been required. 0n
sis no.improvement could have taken place r-
of the labourer himself. Having already reached the|
fection of his art, a greater degree
could alone have overcome fresh obstacles.- ^
would have been necessary to the product^ o ^ ^
quantity of food; and it would have been Jfccssay.
the precise proportion according to which t q
COTTAGE SYSTEM.
387
lotta
yste
"T
was increased. Thus, supposing the labour of ten men to
have been required, during a given number of days, to
k produce ten quarters of wheat, from land of a certain qua-
J;tv whew fifteen quarters were produced in the same
time and from the same \wwdi, fifteen hands must have been
employed in its production. The effects of improved ma¬
chinery, and of a better system of manuring and crop¬
ping, are here supposed to be entirely out of the question.
Had* the arts continued in this stationary state, the price
of raw produce must obviously have varied directly with
every variation in the quality of the soils successively
brought under cultivation.
But in an improving society, the circumstances which
regulate the real and exchangeable values of raw produce
are extremely different. Here, too, it has doubtless a con¬
stant tendency to rise; for notwithstanding that every suc¬
cessive improvement in agriculture, and every new device
by which labour may be saved, and the energies and powers
of machinery augmented, operate to lower prices,—still the
rise of profits, and the consequent stimulus given to popu¬
lation, by every fall in the price of raw produce, increase
the demand, and again raise prices, by forcing the cul¬
tivation of poorer soils. But this rise is rendered much
less perceptible than it would be in a stationary state of
society. After inferior soils have been brought under cul¬
tivation, more labourers may be required to raise the same
quantities of food ; but as the powers of the labourers are
augmented, a smaller number is required, in proportion
to the work to be performed, than if no such improve¬
ment had taken place. It is in this way that the tenden¬
cy to an increase in the price of raw produce is counter¬
acted in the progress of society. The productive ener¬
gies of the earth itself gradually diminish, anti we are
compelled to resort to soils of a constantly-decreasing de¬
gree of fertility; but the productive energy of the labour
employed to extract produce from these soils is as con¬
stantly improved. Two directly opposite and continually-
acting principles are thus set in motion. From the ope¬
ration of the causes to which we have alluded, the increas¬
ing sterility of the soil is sure, in the long run, to over¬
match the increasing power of machinery and the improve¬
ments of agriculture, so that prices experience a corre¬
sponding rise. Occasionally, however, meliorations in the
latter more than compensate, during lengthened periods,
for any deterioration in the quality of the former, and a
fall of prices is the consequence. Should an equilibrium
take place, and the opposite principles exactly counter¬
poise each other, prices would remain stationary.
Had the whole surface of the earth been originally of
the same degree of fertility, and had the same outlay of ca¬
pital and labour always continued to yield the same amount
of raw produce, the effects of improved machinery and
i agriculture in reducing prices would have been quite ob¬
vious. If such had been the case, raw produce must have
invariably fallen in value as society advanced. There
would have been nothing to counteract the effects of im¬
provements. The quantity of labour required for the pro¬
duction of all sorts of commodities would, by reason of im¬
provements in machinery and the arts, have been almost
always diminishing; and of course their real price would
have been as constantly on the decline.
It results, as a consequence of these principles, that
any constitution of society, or any method of dividing
landed property, which should operate to counteract the
spirit of improvement, or which should prevent agricul¬
turists from adopting the most efficacious methods for
saving labour and expense in carrying on their business,
would be materially injurious.
The rate of profit, and consequently the power to accu¬
mulate capital and population, is ultimately regulated by
the price of farm produce. If its price be relatively low, Cottage
that is, if it be easily produced, a comparatively small System,
outlay of labour will suffice to obtain a large quantity of
produce. If, in a country thus situated, property be pro¬
tected, and full scope be given to accumulation, wealth will
rapidly increase. Where labour is more than ordinarily
productive, the labourer receives a large share of the pro¬
duce of his exertions, at the same time that a large net
profit remains to his employer. In America, labour is
extremely well rewarded, but the profits of stock are, not¬
withstanding, much higher than in Europe. The choice
of immense tracts of fertile and unoccupied land relieves
the farmers of the United States from the necessity of cul¬
tivating any but the richest soils. The wants of the coun¬
try can be supplied without having recourse to lands of an
inferior quality ; and although the wages of workmen are
comparatively high, yet, as their labour is proportionally
productive, capitalists realize a corresponding and ample
profit.
The difficulty of raising sufficient supplies of corn is the
principal cause why old-settled and densely-peopled coun¬
tries advance slowly in the accumulation of capital and
riches, and why the profits of stock in them are compa¬
ratively low. Were it not, however, for the improvements
which are constantly making in agriculture, this difficulty
would be greatly increased. • These, by enabling the in¬
creasing sterility of the soil to be partially overcome, re¬
duce the cost of production, or the real price of food ; and
by this means the rate of profit, and consequently the
power to accumulate wealth and population, is prevented
from falling so low as it would do in a society where no
improvements were made.
Now this, we apprehend, must be the situation of every
country in which a minute division of landed property, or
an extended cottage system, has been introduced. The
produce of a small farm of five, ten, or even twenty acres,
may perhaps enable its occupier to preserve his family
from downright starvation, but it will never enable him
to accumulate stock to any extent. “ Where,” asks Mr
Young, “ is the little farmer to be found who will cover
his whole farm with marl at the rate of 100 or 150 tons
per acre ? who will drain all his land at the expense of
two or three pounds an acre ? who will pay a heavy price
for the manure of towns, and convey it thirty miles by land
carriage ? who will float his meadows at the expense of
L.5 per acre ? who, to improve the breed of his sheep,
will give 1000 guineas for the use of a single ram for
a single season ? who will send across the kingdom to
distant provinces for new implements, and for men to use
them ? who employ and pay men for residing in provin¬
ces where practices are found which they want to intro¬
duce into their farms ? At the very mention of such
exertions, common in England, what mind can be so per¬
versely framed as to imagine, for a single moment, that
such things are to be effected by little farmers? De¬
duet from agriculture all the practices that have made it
flourishing in this island, and you have precisely the ma¬
nagement of small farms” ( Travels in France, 2d edition,
vol. i. p. 410.) Besides, though it were admitted that
small farmers might accumulate capital, they could not
apply it in the most efficient manner. “ The division of
labour which, in every pursuit of industry, gives skill and
dispatch, cannot take place on the greatest farms in the
degree in which it is found in manufactures; but upon
small farms it does not take place at all. The same man
by turns applies to every work of the farm ; upon the lar¬
ger occupation there are ploughmen, thrashers, hedgers,
shepherds, cow-herds, ox-herds, limeburners, drainers, &c.
This circumstance is of considerable importance, and de¬
cides that every work will be better performed on a large
388
COTTAGE SYSTEM.
Cottage
System.
Small
farms in¬
crease the
price of
raw pro¬
duces-
Effects of
a subdi¬
vision of
landed pro.
perty on
manufac¬
turing in¬
dustry.
than on a small farm. One of the greatest engines of good
farming, a sheep-fold, is either to he found on a large farm
only, or at an expense of labour which destroys the pi o •
(Travels in France, vol. I. p. 409.) c. w
Neither could a small farmer use any but the simple
machines, and he must, in a great measure, be Fevented
from availing himself of the powers of the lower animals.
An Irish cottager cannot employ either a thrashing-
chine or a horse. Manual labour is his only engine fm
extracting produce from the earth. He cannot avail him
self of natural agents, nor render them subservient to t e
great work of production. Those improvements which,
countries where capital is accumulating in masses, are
every day rendered more efficient, and tend materially to
reduce the price of raw produce, and to render the neces¬
saries of life attainable by less labour, are altogether in¬
compatible with a minute division of landed propel ty-The
additional supplies of food required in a kingdom divided
into small occupancies cannot be produced without a p o-
portional increase of manual labour ; so that raw piod
rises in price with every increase of population, or as soo
as it becomes necessary to cultivate inferior soils. I here
is, in this case, nothing left to counteract increasing steri¬
lity. It is neither checked by improved machinery, noi
by any expedients for saving labour. But, being allowed
to exert its full effect, society very soon becomes clogged
in its progress ; and its future advancement is rendered
extremely problematical. . , . .
This, we conceive, constitutes a fundamental objection
to every attempt to introduce a plan for dividing landed
property into minute portions ; for surely nothing can be
more preposterously absurd than to think of relieving t ie
hardships and distresses of the poor by recommending the
adoption of a scheme which would infallibly tend to laise
the price of the principal necessaries of life..
But a minute division of landed property is not merely
disadvantageous from its having a tendency to raise toe
price of raw produce, by preventing the most advantage¬
ous distribution of capital and labour; it must also exei-
cise a powerful effect on manufactured commodities, and,
by increasing the cost of their production, contribute to
enhance their real price.
In a country like England, where an improved system
of husbandry is generally introduced, where farms are ex¬
tensive, and where improved machinery is employed in
agricultural operations, a comparatively small proportion
of the inhabitants are engaged in the cultivation of the soil.
The rest are employed in manufacturing, in carrying the
products of the different districts of the kingdom to where
they are in the greatest demand, and in exchanging them
for the products of other countries. Farmers do not spend
their time in clumsy attempts to manufacture their own
produce; and manufacturers cease to interest themselves
about the raising of corn and the fattening of cattle.
Every class bestows its undivided attention on some par¬
ticular department of industry. Labour is economized,
and it is also perseveringly and judiciously applied. Agri¬
culturists raise the largest crops, because they can rea¬
dily exchange them for other commodities conducive to
their comforts and enjoyments; whilst manufacturers and
merchants are stimulated to inciease the quantity and to Cotta
improve the quality of their articles, that they may there-
Systei
improve tnc 4uai.vj   : ' v —
by command a greater quantity of raw pioduce. As va«
ny commanu u  J   > 
luable or desirable objects are multiplied, greater efforts
are made to procure them. A spirit of industry, and a de¬
sire to rise in the world, are universally diffused, and the
apathy and languor which are natural to a stationary state
of society are scarcely known.
“ It is,” says Dr Smith, “ the great multiplication of
the productions of the different arts, in consequence of
the division of labour, which occasions, in a well-governed
society, that universal opulence Which extends itself to
the lowest ranks of the people. Every workman has a
great quantity of his own work to dispose of, beyond what
he himself has occasion for; and every other workman
being exactly in the same situation, he is enabled to ex¬
change a great quantity of his own goods for a great quan¬
tity, or, what comes to the same thing, for the price of a
great quantity of theirs. He supplies them abundantly
with what they have occasion for; and they accommodate
him as amply with what he has occasion for, and a gene¬
ral plenty diffuses itself through all the different ranks of
society.”
But if a country were generally divided info small farms,
these effects could only take place in a very limited ex¬
tent. Where a great proportion of the inhabitants is di¬
rectly supported by the produce of the soil, it is obvious
that there must be less of it to support others. Small far-
mershave it not in their powder to purchase any considerable
quantity of manufactured goods; nor, where these abound,
are manufacturers able to purchase a large share of the pro¬
duce of the soil. Neither capital nor labour can, in such
circumstdnces, be employed in the most advantageous man¬
ner ; and that division of labour, to the influence of which the
greater part of the improvement of society may be justly
ascribed, can only be partially introduced. A consider-
able portion of the coarser sorts of manufactured commo¬
dities would, in a country so occupied, be prepared at home,
though at a much greater expense; for the small sur-
olus of agricultural produce that would remain, after satis¬
fying the wants of the cultivators, would be barely suffi¬
cient to procure such necessaries as could notbepiocured
by the rude efforts of agricultural labourers. Being obliged
to engage by turns in every different employment, work¬
men would be prevented from acquiring a proper degree
of dexterity in any.1 But as it is by the quantity of labour
exnended on a commodity that its exchangeable value is
regulated, it is obvious that, where there is a minute dm-
sion of landed property, not only the price of corn, but
also that of all sorts of manufactured commodities, would
be increased. Labour would become less powerful m pro¬
ducing or in procuring them ; and the situation of the great
bodv of the people, who have only labour to barter for
commodities, would be rendered comparatively wretched.
No one would have any, or but very little surplus produce
to dispose of; and instead of general opulence, we should
meet with nothing but universal poverty. “ The tendency
of such a system,” says an intelligent writer who had care¬
fully observed its effects, “ is to approximate man to M
state of the savage, where the insulated being is obliged to
f:
I J
i “ In Ireland, the minute division of land, and the manner in which the inhabitants are scattered q/S
sary for labour of various kinds to be combined in the same individual; and thus each family becomes the ^
own clothing, and of every thing else which they use.. Most of the raw materials being supplied eitlier by their
p .i ■ , ..-,1 . i     i,...., ... t in a cvctmn nml tn fbsnpnKe with the use of ai tides imported o j
own cloUmux, ami or everv imng eise which mej unc. ^>aub» mi «.«* peang supp .. , • ... a .... rr>i(ip hv regular
duce of their land, they are better able to continue this system, and to dispense with the use of articles impoite ^
workmen. In arts carried on in this manner, improvement is impossible; and while the same system exists, ^ - ^ ^ (,ntton
xv.. _  11 Co nnv will miifb pncniirfifrement he edven to the establi:
workmen. In arts carried on in tins manner, improvement is imposswie; a.m wi.uc n.c -v—" . • the cotton
for a superior mode of life, nor will much encouragement be given to thb establishment of manufticttorie.. E. 1 noblemaI))
branches, and in the curing of provisions, this pernicious system is everywhere observed ? if and daughters
who makes his own candles, cultivates his own patch of flax, and has it spun by his servants, to ihe cotter .whose f “ ^
spin and manufacture the frieze and woollen stuffs which serve them as clothing. (\V akefield s Account <]f Ire mu ,9 P
COTTAGE SYSTEM.
389
ffects
lecott
'stem,
dvant
sous a:
rst
sitppty himself bp his own labour with every thing that his
situation may require'.'
It deserves to be mentioned, that a minute division of
landed property, by preventing the extension and improve¬
ment of manufacturing industry, renders the occupiers of
land almost entirely dependent on its proprietors. Those
farmers who incur the displeasure of their landlords are
unable to betake themselves to another employment, and
are obliged to submit to every species of indignity. The
state of society during the middle ages approached, in
some respects, very nearly to this; and it should be re¬
membered, that the division of labour, and the extension
of commerce and manufactures, has been even more be¬
neficial, from its having effected the abolition of villenage,
and removed the grinding oppression of feudal tyranny,
than from its having multiplied the comforts and conveni-
encies of life. Nor is it less certain that every discovery
of a new channel in which industry may be advantageous¬
ly employed, affords an additional guarantee for the en¬
joyment of personal freedom and independence. By en¬
larging the field of exertion, and adding to the means of
acquiring an independent livelihood, whilst it increases the
comforts of every individual, it also renders them less lia¬
ble to be affected by derangements in any particular branch
of business, or by the partialities and caprices of those in
authority.
It is impossible that the prizes in the lottery of human
life can be too much multiplied. The greater the variety
of ways by which men may rise to eminence, the more vigo¬
rous will be the efforts to rise. Where full scope is given
to the accumulation of property, all individuals, even those
in the humblest walks of life, are cheered with the idea
that, by industry and economy, they may better their situ¬
ation, emerge from obscurity, and acquire opulence. But
in an essentially agricultural society, where the greater
part of the population is directly engaged in the culture
of the soil, there is but little variety of condition. In
such countries capital cannot be accumulated; great cities
cannot exist; and the liberal arts and professions, which
chiefly depend on them for protection and support, and to
which they owe their birth, are neither patronised nor in¬
dulged in. It is not to be imagined that cultivators, en¬
grossed, as small farmers must constantly be, with the
thoughts of providing for their present wants, can pay any
attention to schemes of general or prospective improve¬
ment. Such men have no sufficient motive to stimulate
them to exertion; and a perpetual sameness, like that of
China, or at most a nearly imperceptible progress, is all
that can be expected amongst them, and it is all that ever
will take place. It is only in countries like America or
England that the energies of man, as wrell as the powers
of the soil, are developed to their full extent. There,
while the diversity of the objects of pursuit gives ample
room for gratifying the diversity of dispositions, the ap¬
plause consequent on any invention that either extends
the power of man over the physical world, or enlarges his
intellectual faculties, perpetuates the discoveries made and
the spirit which makes them.
Most of the misconceptions and erroneous opinions to
'be met with respecting the cottage system appear to have
originated in hasty and premature attempts at generaliza¬
tion, founded on a few limited observations of its local
effects. But first appearances are, in this case especially,
the most fallacious. The effects observed to result from
the partial granting of cottages, furnish no clue by which
to trace the ultimate consequences of the system. On
the contrary, they are eminently calculated to mislead,
vvere cottages, with small pieces of ground attached to
each, let at a moderate rent to a few of the most industri¬
ous labourers in the best cultivated districts of Great
Britain, there can be no doubt that the situation of those Cottage
individuals would, in the first instance, be ameliorated. System.
They would acquire these possessions with previously-
formed habits of industry and economy. When their
own little farm did not require their exertions, they would
be able to find employment in the more extensive farms
in their vicinity; and might in this way procure the
ploughs, harrows, and carts of their neighbours to assist
them in their operations. Such men would be employed
with nearly as much effect as they would have been had
they continued as farm servants on estates managed in
the first style. It is even probable that their exertions
would, in the first instance, be rather increased, inasmuch
as a part of the labour necessary for the cultivation of the
small farm would be executed at extra hours, after the
ordinary day’s labour was performed.
But the truth of this statement is nowise inconsistent
with the principles which we have been endeavouring to
establish. The ultimate and necessary consequences of a
minute division oflanded property deserve to be as much
attended to as those which are immediate and transitory
only.
In the first place, it is extremely probable that the But ulti-
small farmers would, at no distant period, become dis-ina^My
gusted with the life of laborious exertion which they hadj^j111^"
formerly led. It is natural to suppose, that, having become
comparatively independent, and not being under the ne¬
cessity of constantly employing themselves, occasional in¬
tervals of relaxation would take place. A cottager, how¬
ever small his possession, has some species of produce to
dispose of. This leads to a habit of going to market, where
much precious time is lost in the adjustment of trifling
bargains. “ Nothing,” as Mr Young has justly remarked,
“ can be more absurd than a strong hearty man walking
some miles, and losing a day’s work, in order to sell a
dozen of eggs or a chicken, the value of which would not
be equal to the labour of conveying it if he were proper¬
ly employed.” Such habits, too, are almost sure to lead
to dissipation. The small farmer must have his porter and
his gin as well as the extensive farmer. It is the want of
time and opportunity, still more than the want of money,
that prevents a hired labourer from apeing the conduct of
his employers. The circumstances, too, which distinguish
a farm-servant from a farmer, are much better defined,
and more easily appreciated, than those which distinguish
a small farmer from an extensive one. The latter are
both placed, if we may use the expression, in the same
caste ; and hence the extravagances of the small farmer,
though equally hurtful to himself and his family with those
of a labourer, are less an object of animadversion in the
neighbourhood. They clash less with popular prejudices
and received opinions ; and there is, therefore, a greater
probability of their being more indulged in.
If these consequences of the introduction of small farms
should not become obvious in the lifetime of the first
occupiers, they would certaiidy discover themselves in
that of their successors. Not having undergone the same
rigid training as their fathers, the views and habits of the
two races would be essentially different. And the charac¬
ter of the industrious labourer, which had predominated
in the first, would, in the second, give place to that of the
half-employed, petty farmer.
But, in the second place, it is obvious that the bene¬
ficial effects observed to follow the first introduction of
small farms depend almost entirely on their occupiers hav¬
ing it in their power to employ themselves at other work
when their labour is not required at home. Now, with a
generally extended cottage system, this could not be the
case. Where all farms are small, none would require
the labour of extra hands, nor would they afford their own
390
COTTAGE SYSTEM.
Cottage
System.
Effects of
the cot¬
tage sys¬
tem in
Ireland.
possessors constant employment, except, perhaps, dur ng
seed-time and harvest. Nor is it to be imagined that the
leisure of a poor cottager has any thing m common with
that of an extensive farmer or capitalist. rIhe cottager is
inactive, not because he has realized funds adequate tor
his support, but because no exertions can better his con¬
dition, and because there is no demand for his labour.
No man, it should be recollected, loves exertion or in¬
dustry for its own sake. All have some end or object
in view, the accomplishment of which is to compensate
for the toils and privations to which they at Resent su-
mit But a small farmer is almost entirely cut off fio
the expectation of rising in society No pe-n possess
eel of capital would ever think of embarking in such a
hopeless concern ; and after supporting a family, "0 sma
farmer orminally without capital, is ever able to accumu
late1any. As it is impossible for him to escape from po¬
verty the cottager naturally becomes indolent and care¬
less ^His opinions of what is necessary to his comfortable
subsistence are degraded, and he ultimately sinks into a
state of slusrgish or stupid indmerence.
That this is a fair picture of the state of society in every
country in'which landed property is divided into minute
portions, is abundantly certain. But we have no occasion
to go from home to seek for an exemplification or its ef¬
fects. We have only to turn to Ireland, ihere the cot¬
tage system has been submitted to the test of experiment,
and it is proper that the result should be generally known.
In our inquiry into the principles of the corn laws, we
endeavoured to show that the granting of high bouMies
on the exportation of corn from Ireland, m 1780 and 1/81,
contributed to the extension of tillage, and to the bre^-
ing up of the pasture grounds m that kingdom. But the
want of capital, and the consequent impossibility of pro¬
curing tenants capable of taking large farms, obliged the
proprietors to divide their lands into small portions. Large
tracts of old grass land were ploughed up, and let m farms
of from ten to twenty acres ; and in this way the stimulus,
intended to act as an incitement to agricultural improve¬
ment, has had a much more powerful effect m causing the
subdivision of farms, and in increasing the agricultural
population of the country. , . . , . f .
Mr Newenham’s authority is decisive as to this fact.
“ Large farms,” he informs us, “ of from oOO to loOO and
2000 acres, once so common in Ireland, hold actually no
sort of proportion to farms of from ten to thirty or forty
acres. In the county of Down, Mr Dubordieu says that
farms run from twenty to forty, fifty, and in some instan¬
ces as far as a hundred acres. Such is the case m most
other parts of Ireland. For several years past the land¬
lords of that county have been much in the habit of letting
their lands in small divisions. Besides this, the cottier sys¬
tem, or the giving a certain quantity of land as an equiva¬
lent for wages, prevails throughout most parts of Ireland.
In fact, upwards of four fifths of the Irish people are sub¬
sisted chiefly on the produce of the land which they hold.
(Inquiry into the Population of Ireland, p. 270.)
Every part of Mr Wakefield’s work on Ireland abounds
with interesting information respecting the effects of this
minute division of landed property. Our limits, how¬
ever, will only permit our extracting the following pas¬
sages.
When noticing the state of landed property in Kerry,
Mr Wakefield observes: “ Few persons here occupy such
a quantity of land as to oblige them to employ a labourer;
it is not, therefore, customary for people to go from their
own homes to work, and, indeed, none but those who have
taken very dear farms, and experience the necessity of
procuring a little ready money, ever think of it. This sys¬
tem, considered in a public point of view, strikes me as
being exceedingly injurious. A country occupied by in- cr „
habitants whose ambition is so limited that they have no Sj D
desire to push their industry beyond that indolent exer-'— j
tion which procures them the bare necessaries of life, must
remain without improvement. Such people cannot be said
to live, but to exist; to supply their animal wants is the
chief object of their labour, and if they can raise money
enough, by the sale of butter and pigs, to pay their rent,
all their care and anxiety is ended. The existence, how¬
ever, of these wretched beings depends entirely on the
season; for if their potato crop fails, they are in danger
of being starved. This mode of life, instead of elevating
the moral faculties in the slightest degree, tends only to
depress and degrade them. It becomes the parent of idle¬
ness, the worst evil that can afflict human nature; and
that habit, if it spreads or becomes general, must lead to
national poverty, and even want, with its concomitants,
vice and misery.” (Account of Ireland, vol. i. p. 262.)
“ In Fermanagh,” says he, “ whether it arises from ha¬
bit, or a natural propensity to indolence, the people do not
rise until a late hour in the morning, and the cows are not
milked till noon. There being but a poor market for the
produce of the earth, little encouragement is afforded to
industry; they therefore seldom think of turning their time
to the best advantage.” (Account of Ireland, vol. ii. p.
745.)
In his chapter on rural economy, Mr Wakefield makes
the following observations: “ The Irish cottier’s only anx¬
iety is, that the butter and the pig sold, and the labour
given to his landlord, may be equal in value to the pay¬
ment which he has to make. When satisfied on this head,
his mind is at rest; he has no further wants, and neither
he nor his family consider labour as of any importance to
their happiness. His potatoes are left in the ground till
the commencement of frost makes him apprehend that his
food may be locked up in the earth; and though very
great inconvenience has been occasioned by this negli¬
gence, the repeated experiment of the bad result arising
from it has not yet been able to induce the peasantry of
Ireland to adopt a better method. It is very common to
hear persons of higher rank observe, wdien a very early
frost takes place, that ‘ it is a fortunate event, as it will
oblige the poor to dig up their potatoes’ (for the poor
and the cultivator of the soil are here synonymous ex¬
pressions) ; and of course they will be saved before a se¬
verer one sets in.” (Account of Ireland, vol. i. p. 517 and
583.) . . . .
It is not necessary to quote authorities to prove the mi¬
serable state of the hovels in which the cottagers reside.
Notwithstanding his prejudices in their favour, Mr New-
enham admits “ that a bedstead is a luxury which a great
majority of the Irish labouring poor are strangers to. And
as for clocks, warming-pans, frying-pans, tea-kettles, cups
and saucers, &c. which we find in every cottage here, 1
believe it is unnecessary to say that they never consti¬
tute a part of the poor Irishman’s furniture.” (Inquiry re-
^meting the Population of Ireland, p. 280.)
We shall close these statements with an extract from
Mr Curwen’s work on Ireland. That experienced agneu -
turist travelled through the greater part of it m 18Id, ana,
after having carefully inquired into the condition ot tne
small farmers and cottagers, gave the result of his inves¬
tigation in the following terms: “ The size of farms, Mm
fifteen to thirty acres, would give an average of about
twenty-two or twenty-three acres to each. Eortions o
these are again sublet to cottiers, whose rents are paia oy
labour done for the tenants, from whom they s<*^ime
receive milk and some other necessaries. Ihese running
accounts are an endless source of dissatisfaction, o
pute, and of contention, at the quarter-sessions, m so
c< ■?e
Sy Xl-
COTTAGE SYSTEM.
of the more populous parts of Ireland there is supposed
to be an inhabitant for every acre, while the cultivation of
the soil, as now practised, does not afford employment for
a third of that population. In the north, where the linen
trade has been established, the lower classes are weavers,
which gives them a great superiority over the southern
districts. The labour on the highways and great roads,
for which such large assessments are made on the coun¬
ties, afford, for a portion of the year, a great source of em¬
ployment.
“ The minute subdivision of lands among these occu-
" of
391
Iffec f
the d:
sion i
small
hold]
pertie.
pants is attended with many serious evils. The rents o
these sublet parcels become so high to the actual cultiva
tors as to preclude all profitable returns from their labour.
It affords too great a facility to marriage. The popula¬
tion becomes increased beyond the capital of the country
employed in husbandry; and the supernumerary indivi¬
duals are compelled to subsist on the produce of others’
labour, to which they have no power of contributing. The
aggregate number of horses is greater than would be re¬
quired if the estates were distributed into moderately
sized farms; while the want of farming buildings, besides
other disadvantages, prevents the accumulation of manure.
“ The labourers, with few exceptions, are all married.
The farmers have no hired servants of either sex residing
in their dwellings ; this is another serious evil arising out
of small farms. Ireland, which in extent is nearly equal
to one half of Great Britain, does not probably employ
one tenth of the agricultural servants.
“ The buildings on every farm being erected at the ex¬
pense of the tenant, are necessarily on the most limited
scale, seldom more than a cabin, and this insufficient for the
children of the family beyond their earliest days. As the
children grow up, they are compelled to seek another
establishment for themselves, and to hazard every conse¬
quence that may ensue. Alternative they have none.
The interests of all parties suffer, and it would be for the
advantage of the whole community to promote a radical
reform of the present disreputable system.”
Such are the ruinous effects produced by the small
farming system. And such, too, with some few excep¬
tions, would be the effects of having a country parcelled
out into small freehold properties. A few words will
be sufficient to show the similarity of the cases.
First, It is obvious that the division of labour would be
quite as inapplicable in a country divided into small pro¬
perties as in one occupied by small farmers. The proprie¬
tor of ten, twenty, or fifty acres, can as little afford to keep
ploughmen, hedgers, thrashers, &c. as the person who
holds them on lease. But whatever may be the capital of
the occupier of a small farm, its size will not admit of its
being farmed so as to yield the largest quantity of produce
with the least possible expenditure of labour.
It may be supposed, perhaps, that, in countries occu¬
pied entirely by proprietors, raw produce may be sold at
a cheaper rate than in those occupied by farmers, who, in
addition to the expense of labour, are burdened with the
payment of rent. This, however, is really not the case. The
price of raw produce, as well as of manufactured commodi¬
ties, is determined by the quantity of labour necessary to
its production. Rent, it has been demonstrated, does not
enter into price. Corn is not high because rent is paid,
but rent is paid because corn is high; and no reduction
would take place in the price of corn although landlords
should relinquish the whole of their rent. Such a measure
''ou]d turn some farmers into landlords, and some land-
oids into beggars ; but it would not diminish the quan¬
tity of labour necessary to raise corn on the least produc¬
tive land in cultivation; and it is this quantity which deter¬
mines its price, and consequently the price of the whole Cottage
croP; System.
Although, therefore, it cannot be doubted that the con-
dition of the greater part of the occupiers of land, in a
country held by small proprietors, must, upon the whole,
be preferable to their condition in a country held by small
farmeis, the condition of every other class would be un¬
affected. The price of corn is the same whether it is rais¬
ed by a small farmer or a small proprietor. Neither of
them is able to bring his produce to market upon the same
reasonable terms as an extensive farmer. The profits of
stock would, therefore, be less than in countries where
agriculturists are in a situation to adopt every expedient
by which labour may be saved or rendered more efficient;
and the power of the society to accumulate wealth would'
be proportionally diminished.
In the second place, small properties, as well as small
farms, have a strong tendency to increase the agricultural
population of a country in a ratio far exceeding the de¬
mand. A property of forty or fifty acres of good land
might support a single family in tolerably easy circum¬
stances; but what is to become of the children? No coun¬
try, it will be remembered, which is divided into small oc¬
cupancies, can ever furnish surplus produce sufficient, af¬
ter satisfying the wants of the cultivators, to feed a nume¬
rous body of merchants, handicraftsmen, &c.; nor would
small occupiers have any demand for the products or ser¬
vices of such persons. There could therefore be no de¬
mand for that surplus population which an agricultural
society is always producing; and the division of the pa¬
ternal property would be the only way in which families
could be provided for. This, however, is only calculated to
make bad worse. Farms of forty or fifty acres are not inca¬
pable of pretty good cultivation; but those of twenty or twen¬
ty-five, and still more of ten or twelve acres, must be ill cul¬
tivated. But in essentially agricultural countries, such, for
example, as France, where the right of primogeniture is
almost unknown, and where property must be divided in
nearly equal portions amongst all the children of a family,
properties can hardly fail to be reduced even below ten
acres. They must, in fact, be perpetually lessening, until,
to use the words of Mr Young, when pointing out the
pernicious effects of this system in France, “ you arrive
at the limit beyond which the earth, cultivate it as you
please, will feed no more mouths; yet those simple man¬
ners, which instigate to marriage, still continue. What
then is the consequence, but the most dreadful imagina¬
ble. By persevering in this system, you soon would ex¬
ceed the populousness of China, w here the putrid carcasses
of dogs, cats, rats, and every species of filth and vermin,
are sought with avidity, to sustain the life of wretches
who were born only to be starved. Small properties much
divided prove the greatest source of misery that can pos¬
sibly be conceived; and this has operated to such an ex¬
tent and degree in France, that a law undoubtedly ought
to be passed, to render all division, belowr a certain num¬
ber ot arpents, illegal.” (Travels in France, vqI. i. pp.
413, 414.)
The condition of the agricultural classes in France has
been materially ameliorated since Mr Young visited that
kingdom. The abolition of the feudal privileges of the
nobility and clergy, and of the gabelle, corvee, and other
grievously oppressive and partial burdens, would of it¬
self have sufficed to make the farmers and small pro¬
prietors more respectable and comfortable. A great part
too of the property of the church, and of the emigrants,
came into their hands at extremely low prices. By this
means small properties were augmented, and fresh energy
was given to the agriculturists. Still, however, the ex¬
treme division of landed property, which, in consequence
392
COTTAGE SYSTEM.
Cottage
System.
Whether
property
in land be
the most
efficient
instigator
to labour.
of the law of equal partition, is every day becoming more
minute, and the consequent excess of the rural popula¬
tion, form the prime evils in the social condition of the
people of France. “ The population of that country,
says Mr Birkbeck, “ seems to be arranged thus A town
depends for subsistence on the lands immediately mound
it. The cultivators individually have not much to spare,
because, as their husbandry is a sort of
ouires a large country population, and has, in p p ’
less superfluity of produce. Thus is formed a numerous
but IX population. The cultivator tece.ve, payment
of his surplus produce in sous, and he expem y
The tradesman is on a par with the farmer; as they re
eeive so they expend; and thus 50,000 persons may m-
habit a district, with a town of 10,00° inhabitants in the
rvpntre of it bartering the superfluity of the country xor
the arts and’manufactures of the town : P”" f
tion to o-eneration, and growing continually poorer as tney
to“easf"n numbers, in the country by the division an
subdivision of property in the town by the d.™wn and
subdivision of trades and professions. Such a People,
stead of proceeding from the necessaries to the comforts ot
life and then to the luxuries, as is the order of thing.
England, are rather retrograde than progressive. iere
is no advancement in French society; no improvement,
nor hope of it.” ( Tour in France, 4th edit. P-3^)
It has been said, that property in land is of a 1 othms
the most active instigator to severe and incessant labour.
This, however, is a very doubtful proposition. It ,
that the exertions of a little proprietor are not paralyzed
by the apprehension of being turned out of his farm before
he has reaped the reward of his labours. But, on the ot er
hand, his certainty of a resource, his dependence on a sma
piece of ground from which he cannot be ejected, and which
will preserve him from absolute want, joined to the impos¬
sibility of his rising in the world, foster indolent habits.
\ farmer can never calculate with certainty on getting a
renewal of his lease. Unless he has accumulated some
capital, he is always exposed to the risk of being thrown
destitute upon the world; but it is not so with the smal
proprietor. He relies for support, not upon capital, but
upon land. He is exempted from all chance of being tur n-
ed out of his possession ; and he has not therefore the same
powerful motive to save and accumulate as the other.
The small proprietors and farmers of France, Mr Birkbeck
informs us, “ having absolutely no means of improving their
situation, submit to necessity, and pass their hves content¬
edly.” The same is the case in Great Britain. I mough-
out England there is no comparison between the case of a
day-labourer and of a little farmer: we have no people
that work so hard and fare so ill as the latter. (Young s
Travels in France, vol. i. p. 415.) And those counties of
Scotland, Kinross for example, in which property is very
much divided, are uniformly behind in their agriculture,
and are farmed in a very inferior style to those where
estates are more extensive. ... ..
It is foreign to the object of this article tocornpare t
moral and political effects produced by the division of
landed property into large and small portions. VVe snail
merely observe, that a needy population, but scantily sup¬
plied with the necessaries, and enjoying very few ot the
comforts of life, is not very likely to be imbued with a just
sense, either of the dignity of man or of his rights. An
agricultural population, spread over a wide extent of coun¬
try, has no point of re-union. Men only feel their conse¬
quence ; they only act in a collective capacity, and with
vigour and effect, after they have been condensed into (W
masses and collected in cities. It is comparatively easy Sv j,
to animate the inhabitants of a large town with the same '-v
spirit- there is a sympathy in their joys and in their suf¬
ferings ; and the redress of an injury done to a single in¬
dividual becomes, in some measure, the business of the
whole. But with agriculturists the case is different; they
may be trampled down piecemeal; they cannot act col-
lectively, and must, therefore, submit with less resistance
to the yoke of the oppressor. Of all the arguments in fa¬
vour of a minute division of landed property, that which
supposes it should powerfully contribute to keep alive a
feeling of manly independence, seems the most futile and
preposterous.
As a plan for relieving the distresses of the poor, theEfS
cottage system is perhaps the very worst that can be de-ttw
vised? It should always be borne in mind, that excepts.v
in the case of maimed and impotent persons, there can-JjV
not, generally speaking, be any poor in a country, that de-tr'^
serve to be relieved, unless the population be redundant.tb.
As long as the supply of labour does not exceed the de- I
mand, the whole industrious part of the community may
be employed; none but the idle and profligate can be
without work, and the means of subsistence, and it will
not, we presume, be contended that cottages ought to be
built for their reception. In all cases, however, where the
poverty and distress of the people proceed from a redun¬
dancy of population,—and that is the case wherever in¬
dustrious persons are unable to procure wages sufficient
to purchase the ordinary necessaries and comforts of life
 would surely be most absurd to attempt to improve
their condition by introducing a system, which, whatever
might be its immediate effects, would lead to a still greater
redundancy of population. Now, this would most unques¬
tionably be the consequence of the introduction ot the
cottage system. A person who gets possession of a cot¬
tage and a small piece of ground, finds himself in a situa¬
tion to marry. Being no longer dependent for mere sub¬
sistence on the good will ot his employers, but feeling,
if not an increase of wealth, at least an increase of secu¬
rity against want, the cottager is naturally stimulated to
contract that engagement, into winch men are otherwise
sufficiently prone to enter. A cottage could not indeed
be of any* use to a single man. Either a wife or a female
servant would be required to superintend its domestic eco¬
nomy ; and as a cottager could not afford to pay wages,
it is easy to perceive which of the two he would prefer.
No person would think of attempting to relieve the dis¬
tress occasioned by a bad harvest, or by any sudden de¬
rangement of the affairs of the commercial world, by pro¬
posing the adoption of a cottage system. 1 he plan ot
granting cottages has only been recommended m cases
where a permanent difficulty has been experienced in pro¬
curing employment. But in every such case the cure is
worse than the disease. Where the population is redun¬
dant,—and an industrious man can never be long without
employment from any other cause,—it should be our object
not to accelerate, but to retard the rate of its increase
not to increase, but to diminish the number ot cottages.
Unluckily, we are not left to argue speculatively on
these points, or to refer for .llusyat.ons to Fian
tnese pointsj ui * i £*4.1 ~ 0
Ireland. England furnishes examples both of the ad ( ;
tage of throwing obstacles in the way ot the erect^ o gland
cottages, and of the evils attending their too great mult -
1 For further information as to the effects of the present French law of succession, see the note on the “ Disposal of Pioperty 7
Will,” in the fourth volume of McCulloch’s edition of the Wealth of Nations.
Cop
Svp
W-'
COTTAGE SYSTEM.
plication. Some of the latter had manifested themselves
at a very early period; and in the 31st of Elizabeth an
act was passed “ for the avoiding of the great inconve¬
niences which are found by experience to grow, by the
erecting and building of great numbers and multitudes of
cottages, which are daily more and more increased in
many parts of this realm.” To counteract the evil, it was
enacted that in future no cottage should be built, to which
four acres of land w'ere not attached. This statute con¬
tributed to check the increase of cottages; but we are
clearly of opinion that the poor-laws have opposed by
far the most formidable obstacle to their multiplication,
and consequently to that of the agricultural population.
As soon as they were enacted, landlords and occupiers
saw, that if, by the erection of cottages, the splitting of
farms, or otherwise, the population upon their estates or
occupancies w'as unduly augmented, they would be bur¬
dened with the support of all who, from old age, sick¬
ness, want of employment, or any other cause, might
become at any future period unable to provide for them¬
selves. The wish to avoid incurring any such indefinite
responsibility not only rendered landlords and farmers
exceedingly cautious about admitting new settlers upon
their estates and farms, but stimulated them, whenever the
demand for labour was not pretty brisk and constant, to
take measures for diminishing the population, and for hin¬
dering its increase beyond its proper level, by pulling down
cottages, and preventing their being rebuilt. The influence
of this principle has been most powerful. In proof of this
we might refer to a host of authorities; but the following
extract from a work of Arthur Young, published in 1771,
will probably be deemed sufficient: “ One great inducement
to marriage is the finding without difficulty a comfortable
habitation; and another, nearly as material, when such re¬
quisite is found, to be able to exercise in it whatever busi¬
ness a man has been educated to, or brought up in. The
first of these points is no easy matter to be accomplished ;
for it is too much the interest of a parish, both landlords
and tenants, to decrease the cottages in it, and, above all, to
prevent their increase, so that, in process of time, habitations
are extremely difficult to be procured. There is no parish
but had much rather that its young labourers would con¬
tinue single ; in that case they are not in danger of becom¬
ing chargeable ; but, when married, the case alters : all ob¬
structions are, therefore, thrown in the wray of their mar¬
rying; and none more immediately than rendering it as
difficult as possible for the men, when married, to procure
a house to live in ; and this conduct is found so conducive
to easing the rates, that it universally gives rise to an
open war against cottages. How often do gentlemen who
have possessions in a parish, when cottages come to sale,
purchase them, and immediately raze them to the foun¬
dation, that they may never become the nests, as they
are called, of beggars' brats, by which means their tenants
are not so burdened in their rates, and their farms let bet¬
ter ; for the rates are considered as much by tenants as
the rent. In this manner cottages are the perpetual ob¬
jects of jealousy, the young inhabitants are prevented from
marrying, and population is obstructed.” {Farmer's Let¬
ters,^ edit. vol. i. pp. 300-302.)
W e are inclined to think that the comparatively slow in¬
crease of the agricultural population of England, down to
the beginning of last w'ar, and the high wages received by
the labourers, are mainly attributable to the circumstances
pow stated. But since the alteration of the poor-laws
m 1795, the obstacles to the increase of cottages have
een to a considerable extent removed, at least in some
considerable districts in the south, and the inconveniences
t icnce resulting have been most striking. In several in¬
stances the parochial overseers have agreed to pay the
vol. vn. 1 J
rents of the cottages occupied by paupers; and as the
assessment for the poor is not imposed on houses, but on
the land according to its value, the owners of small patches
have, in many instances, been tempted to cover them with
cottages, to the great injury of the more extensive land-
owners of the parish, who are in fact obliged to pay their
rents. Ihis system has had the most pernicious opera¬
tion. It has acted as an incentive to premature mar¬
riages, and, in many districts, has increased the supply
of labour much beyond die demand. Some very inte¬
resting evidence upon this subject was given before the
Committee of the House of Commons on Emigration in
1826. A most intelligent witness, Mr Hodges, M. P. for
Kent, expressed himself as follows : “ I am quite satisfied
that the erection of cottages has been a most serious evil
throughout the country ; and I have been induced, acting
on that conviction, to concur with other cottage proprie¬
tors, who are going to take down from twenty-six to
thirty cottages as soon as the present occupants are out
of them, if they emigrate, as we think they will do ; for if
we leave the buildings standing, young persons of seventeen
and eighteen years oj age, and even younger, woidd marry
immediately, and thus the evil would continue^' {Report,
p. 136.) And in another place, Mr Hodges says, “ Perhaps
I am taking a liberty in adverting to what I stated the
other day ; but without an attention to the fact then dis¬
closed, of the prodigious increase of cottages of late years,
all other regulations will be nugatory; and I cannot for¬
bear urging again, that this, or any similar measure, hav¬
ing for its object the relief of parishes from their over¬
population, must of necessity become perfectly useless,
unless the act contain some regulations with respect to
the erecting and maintaining of cottages.” {Report, p.
185.) The evidence of other witnesses is precisely
similar to this.
In Yorkshire, and all the north of England, where the per¬
nicious practice of mixing up poor-rates and wages has not
been introduced, cottages have not been unduly increased,
and the poor are comparatively prosperous. We do there¬
fore think that no time should be lost in bringing forward
some legislative measure, capable of checking the progress
of the evil pointed out by Mr Hodges; and this might be
done either by making the owners of all cottages respon¬
sible for their occupants, or by making the assessments to
the poor proportional to the population on the land as well
as to its value. It is not to be endured, that the proprie¬
tor of a few acres should be allowed, by covering them
with cottages, and letting them to occupants for whom
there is no demand, to reduce the whole labouring popu¬
lation of a parish to a state of pauperism, and to bring
a heavy burden on the owners of the land and other pro¬
perty, that he may put a few pounds into his pocket. The
longer we delay grappling with the evil, it will become the
more formidable, and the more difficult to put down. But
either of the measures now suggested would arrest its pro¬
gress ; and were they combined with a judiciously devised
system of emigration, the surplus labourers by which some
districts are now oppressed might be easily got rid of, and
the labouring population restored to its former sound and
healthy state.
Neither the circumstance of the cottage system increas¬
ing the price of food by preventing the accumulation of
capital and the improvement of machinery, nor its tenden¬
cy to diffuse idleness and dissipation, is half so injurious
to the labouring classes, as its influence in factitiously sti¬
mulating population. Although it were possible, and cer¬
tainly it is not, immediately to provide for all the paupers
in England, by granting them cottages and small pieces
of land at a moderate rent, in the course of a few years
3 D
394
COT
Cottee.
we should be in a much worse situation than at present.
What would become of the pauper families? It the cot¬
tage system be once fairly introduced, where shall it. stop .
If it was proper to relieve the distresses of the sires in
this way, why not apply it to those of the sons ? Hie ca
for relief in the latter case would be more pressing than
in the former, inasmuch as the population would be more
superabundant. It would then be impossible to retrace
our steps. A fresh allotment of cottages would become
necessary, and a fresh stimulus would be applied t° P°PU'
lation. In this way the cottage system would at length
overspread the whole country. “ The principle of gravi¬
tation,” to borrow the language of Mr Ricardo,
more certain than the tendency of such a system to change
wealth and power into misery and weakness; to call away
the exertion of labour from every object except that ot
providing mere subsistence ; to confound all intellectual
distinction; to busy the mind continually in supplym„
the body’s wants; until at last all classes should be in¬
fected with the plague of universal poverty. .
The fact that the cottage system tends to give a tacti
tious stimulus to population, and hence to cause a reduc¬
tion of the real wages of labour, is of itself sufficient to sa¬
tisfy every unprejudiced inquirer of its pernicious influence
on the lower classes. But its bad effects would not stop
there. After landed property had been divided into minute
portions, and population had begun to press against the
limits of subsistence, cottagers, in order to preserve their
families from want, would resort to such crops as supply the
greatest quantity of food on the smallest extent of grounc.
An extensive farmer cultivates those only which yield
the largest net profit. But the small farmer must look to
other considerations; the necessities of those depending
on him for support must first be provided for. He must
have food before he begins to think of profit. A cottager
with five, ten, or fifteen acres of land, could not support
himself and a family on wheaten bread and butcher-meat.
He would be forced to resort to some less expensive food,
 to relinquish first one enjoyment and then another; and,
descending step by step, according as the increase of po¬
pulation increased the competition for cottages, potatoes
would at length constitute his only fare.
Although the price of labour fluctuates with every fluc¬
tuation of the demand and supply, it is, like every other
thing, possessed of exchangeable value, ultimately icgu-
lated by the expense of production. Where labourers
consider neat cottages, comfortable clothes, bread, beef,
tea, and the like, necessary to their comfortable and decent
subsistence—and where, unless they have a prospect of be¬
ing able to command these enjoyments, they are less in¬
clined to marry—wages are necessarily high. But, under
the cottage system, wages would not merely experience a
temporary depression from an excessive supply, but would
be permanently reduced. It would supply workmen at a
comparatively small expense. And wages, being no longer
regulated by the price of wheat, beef, and other such ar-
Cot: t
COT
tides, but by that of potatoes, a species of food raised at the
least possible cost, they would sink to the very lowest point. >-
From the fact of manufactured commodities generally
fall in g, and of raw produce generally rising (See Princi.
pies of Corn Laws), in the progress of society, such a dis-
proportion in their values is at length created, that, in those
countries where labourers are chiefly supported on corn,
beef, &c., and where wages must of course be mainly re¬
gulated by their price, they are able, by sacrificing a
small portion of their food, to provide liberally for all their
other wants. But where the potato forms the ordinary
food of the lower classes, the operation of this principle is
scarcely perceptible. Potatoes, it is true, as well as corn,
rise in real value as society advances, or as it becomes
necessary to raise them on poorer soils; but, under any
circumstances, the labour required to produce as many
potatoes as will feed a workman, bears but a small pro¬
portion to that which is required to produce corn or but¬
cher-meat for the same purpose. In a comparative point
of view, therefore, very little additional command over
manufactured commodities would be gained by the la¬
bourer who diminished his consumption of potatoes; and
hence the actual condition of a population chiefly depend¬
ent on that root is not only much worse than it would be
were they dependent on some more expensive food, but
their future prospects are rendered still more gloomy and
discouraging. .
It would not be an easy task to enumerate all the evils
to which a country is exposed, where the real wages of
labour are reduced extremely low, or where they are re¬
gulated by the price of the cheapest species of food; but
they are unquestionably of an appaling description. Where
wealth is accumulated, the moreopulent and middleclasses,
and even the lower orders, consume considerably more
than the mere necessaries of life. In a season of scarcity,
this consumption being diminished, has the same effect as
the importation of an additional supply of provisions from
abroad. But w here the mass of the population is reduced
to a dependence on mere necessaries, they cannot dimi¬
nish their consumption. In a nation in this situation, con¬
sumption remains nearly the same, and a deficient crop
is sure to entail disease, famine, and death, on a consi¬
derable portion of the community. This is no very al¬
luring prospect held out by the cottage system, but it
would be fully realized. When a bad harvest happens
in a country abounding in capital and manufactures, these
are exported, and corn is brought home from every quar¬
ter of the world. But what superfluous produce would a
nation of cottagers, or rather, we should say, of paupers,
have to dispose of ? Millions die in China and Hindustan
whenever there is any serious deficit in the rice crop.
The extremity of want is felt in Ireland when the potato
is not ordinarily productive ; and the sole reason why fa¬
mines are not so frequent as in China is, that the cottage
system is not yet universally introduced, and that some
capitalists are still to be found in that country, (c. c.)
COTTEE, a town of Hindustan, in the province of Ba-
har, and district of Behar, ninety miles south by west from
Patna. Long. 84. 40. E. Lat. 24. 21. N.
COTTIWAR, or Cattivad, a considerable district of
Hindustan, in the centre of the Gujerat peninsula, situated
between the 21st and 23d degrees of north latitude. The
present inhabitants, who are supposed to have been long
in possession of the country, are Hindus, but of the sect
which pays adoration to the sun. They are named Catties,
who originally migrated from the north, along the banks of
the Indus, to Cutch, and afterwards proceeded with their
flocks and cattle to the extensive plains of their presen
country. They are many of them robbers by profession, ana
the country has hitherto been the scene of constant wars
among its petty chiefs; and hence the large in ux i
this territoi’v of Arabs, who are in great request on ac
count of their valour and martial habits. Since the131,1
have begun to interfere in the affairs of this country,
spirit of anarchy has been somewhat repressed, ami um
demand for armed retainers among the independent cni
by whom the country is governed has diminished,
inhabitants are occupied in breeding cattle and or
COT
Col
'Col
Man
tu
the latter are in great esteem, and are purchased by the
British government for the cavalry. A constant intercourse
is maintained with Arabia by the Gulf of Cutch. The
> COUntry contains no towns of any magnitude, but many
strongholds, which are the resort of thieves and robbers.
^ COTTON is a soft vegetable down, the produce of the
o-ossypium or cotton tree, of which there are many varie¬
ties. It grows naturally in all the tropical climates of Asia,
Africa, and America, whence it has been transplanted, and
has become an important article of cultivation in the south¬
ern parts of the United States, and to some extent also in
Europe. Cotton is distinguished by its colour, and by the
strength, length, and fineness of its fibre. White is ge-
COT 395
nerally considered as characteristic of secondary quality. Cotton
lhat which has a yellowish tinge, when not the result of II
wetting or inclement seasons, is considered as indicating -IV9ott'c!.n
greater fineness. I here are in the market many varieties fnu ac"
of raw cotton, which principally derive their name from t_— —
the places whence they are brought. They are usually
classed under the denominations of long and short stapled.
The best of the first is that brought from the shores of
Georgia, but its qualities differ very considerably. The
superior samples of Brazil cotton are reckoned among the
long stapled. The upland or bowed Georgia cotton forms
the largest and best portion of the short stapled class.
All the Indian cottons are short stapled.
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
The cotton manufacture had its origin in the East,
where the cotton plant is indigenous, and where the cli¬
mate renders a light and absorbent fabric a suitable cloth¬
ing for the people. It has in consequence been long es¬
tablished over every part of Asia, although it is only in
India that it is carried on extensively, with a view to fo¬
reign exchange.
[jottoi |ia- Arrian mentions cotton cloth among the commodities
aufact e which the Romans brought from India; but the quantity
a In(h imported by them was inconsiderable, arising from the pre¬
ference which they gave to woollen clothing. Dr Robertson
remarks, that the difference between the cargoes import¬
ed from India in ancient and in modern times, appears to
have arisen, not from any diversity in the nature of the
goods prepared for sale in that country, but from variety
in the tastes or in the wants of the nations with which
they have successively traded.
The implements used by the Indians in the different
processes of the cotton manufacture, from the cleaning of
the wool to its conversion into the finest muslin, may be
purchased for the value of a few shillings, and are of so
rude and simple a construction as to be evidently the in¬
vention of a very early period. With the exception of the
loom, none of them deserves the name of a machine, or
displays the slightest mechanical ingenuity. They spin
the yarn upon the distaff; and yet, with all the advantages
which we in this country derive from machinery, we have
never been able to equal, either in fineness or quality,
the yarn which is produced by means of this primitive
instrument. The well managed use of the finger and
thumb of the Indian spinner, patiently and carefully ap¬
plied in the formation of the thread, and the moisture
at the same time communicated to it, are found to have
the effect of incorporating the fibres of the cotton more
I perfectly than can he accomplished by our most improved
machines.
The loom is composed of a few sticks or reeds, which
the Indian carries about with him, and puts up in the
fields under the shade of a tree, or at the side of his cot¬
tage. He digs a hole large enough to contain his legs,
and the lower part of the “ geer,” and fastens the balances
to some convenient branch over head. Two loops under¬
neath the geer, in which he inserts his great toes, serve
as treadles, and he employs the shuttle, formed like a
large netting needle, but of a length somewhat exceeding
the breadth of the cloth, as “ battoon,” using it alternate¬
ly to draw through the weft and strike it up. The reed
is the only part of the weaving apparatus which approaches,
m the perfection of its construction, to the instruments
we use. The loom has no beam, and the warp is laid out
upon the ground the whole length of the piece of cloth,
ine weavers live entirely in villages, as they could not,
if shut up in towns, work in this manner. Upon this rude
machine, worked in the way we have mentioned, the In¬
dians produce those muslins which have long been such
objects of curiosity, from the exquisite beauty and fine¬
ness of their texture.
it is probable that the whole of the implements which
we have just described existed as we now find them before
the people of India were divided into castes. The trans¬
mission of the same employment from father to son, which,
although not specially enjoined by the Hindu code, is the
invariable practice in India, while it has the effect of con¬
veying unimpaired the knowledge acquired in any art,
tends to check its farther advancement. It is the opinion
of Mr Rickards, who so ably advocated the interests of
the natives of India in the discussion in parliament on the
renewal of the Company’s charter (1814), that latterly
this form of society, with all its dependencies, habits, and
restraints, has been held together chiefly by the oppres¬
sion of the fiscal exactions, the want of a free trade, and
the consequent universal poverty of the people. In support
of this opinion, he refers to what the Hindu population of
Calcutta and Bombay have achieved in the pursuits of
commerce. We trust, however, that we may now look
forward to the speedy abolition of this system, so much
opposed to all development of talent, and which, by re¬
ducing man to the condition of a machine, has paralyzed
the exertions and arrested the improvement of the people
of India.
To the same-cause, however, which has thus precluded
invention, is to be attributed that dexterity in his parti¬
cular employment, which the Indian artisan possesses.
From the earliest age he learns to spin and weave un¬
der the direction of his father, and having no hope or de¬
sire of advancement in any other line, he gains, through
constant practice, that wonderful skill, which may thus
be considered almost as a family inheritance. To be
able to manage his ill-constructed loom, even in the pro¬
duction of ordinary fabrics, he is obliged to acquire such
a sleight of hand, that it is not surprising if, out of
the multitude trained in this manner, a few should be
found capable of producing those muslins which are said,
when spread upon the grass, to appear like the gossamer
web. From the superiority of these goods, and from their
retaining their appearance longer than European muslins,
it has been supposed that the cotton of which they are
made is of better quality than any known to the Euro¬
pean manufacturers. This, however, is a mistake; there
is no cotton in India of a quality superior to the best sea
island. The excellence which these muslins possess is
to be ascribed wholly to the skilful tact of the workman
in the processes of spinning and weaving.
But how dearly is this excellence of art purchased by
i
396
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
ture.
Cotton the sacrifice of the better faculties of man ! How differ-
Manufac- ent is the effect produced by this branch of industry upon
the people and circumstances of India, from that produced
by it upon the people and circumstances of England! In
the East, the cotton manufacture has probably been car¬
ried on as extensively as at present, for some thousand
years; yet it has given birth to no inventions, to no in¬
crease of national riches, to no improvement in the condi¬
tion of the labouring class. The scanty pittance which
the poor artisan gains from his labour is spent by him in
his sustenance almost as soon as it is received. In Eng¬
land, the same manufacture has not existed for more than
seventy years, yet in that short time it has given rise to
some of the happiest efforts of ingenuity; it has been of
incalculable use in promoting mechanical skill; and the
demand for additional power created by the extension of
its processes, has led to the perfecting of the steam-en¬
gine, the most successful attempt which man has ever
made to bend the properties of matter to his will. How
many canals, bridges, and rail-roads have been formed for
the circulation of its products; how many new cities, and
what an increase of population, has it called into existence ,
how many new agricultural markets has it been the cause
of establishing; and how mightily has it thus increased
the comforts and the means of enjoyment of the com-
munity! , , -i i * •
In India, this manufacture has not only failed to im¬
prove the condition of the people—it does not appeal
even to have afforded to those engaged in it the means of
accumulating the capital necessary to carry it on ; for both
the price of the material and the wages of the workmen,
in place of being supplied by the master manufactui er,
are advanced by the purchaser of the goods.
Thus, the East India Company, who until lately were
in the habit of making a great part of their remittances in
manufactures, actually advanced, through their Residents,
the funds required to enable the workmen to produce the
goods. To assist this officer, they placed under him a
number of European servants, and an establishment of
native clerks and of persons termed Peons, whose duty
it was to watch and control the weavers. The resident,
when he had to provide an investment, entered into a
contract for the goods, either with the native merchants
acting as brokers, or with the master manufacturer or
headsman, and these parties made subsidiary agreements
with the weavers. The resident then advanced money
for carrying on the work to the chief contractors, who dis¬
tributed it to the different classes of workmen, and were
responsible for the delivery of the manufactured goods at
the Company’s warehouse, in the state stipulated in the
contract. The commercial resident never interfered with
the arrangements or operations of the contractors, except
when complaints were made of delay or fraud, arising
from the interference of other brokers, or contractors act¬
ing for other parties than the Company, and then a host
of Peons were sent forth by him to intimidate, and, if
necessary, to coerce the weaver. The resident, when not
engaged in providing goods for the Company’s investment,
was authorized to employ the weavers on his own account.
This greatly increased his influence over those people,
who having him constantly among them, as head of the
little colony, and being unable at any time to move a step
1 Since this article was sent to the press, we have received a communication from Moorshedabad on the present state ^
Dacca muslin manufacture, accompanied by a sample of the Dacca cotton wool, and some skeins of the yarn 1"°™ ' of Jts
wool is equal in fineness to the very best sea island, of still stronger staple, but so short as to preclude the po » y ig0f
beino- spun bv our machinery. The district in which the cotton is grown is stated to be periodically overflowed. 1 )
different grists, the coarsest greatly finer than the highest number spun in this country (No. 150), while the finest ha rncan
an experienced spinner to whom we have shown it, to be of a fineness not under 350. It is beyond our conception how t y
be spun by the distaff and spindle, or woven afterwards by any machinery.
without bis advances, felt themselves in a state of entire Co1
dependence upon him. Thus, although the brokers, who Mat',
made contracts for the Portuguese and others, were gene- tc '
rally willing to give higher prices than those which the
resident arbitrarily fixed, the weavers, however they might
be disposed to elude his orders, or to outwit him in his
operations, never ventured openly to dispute his will.
Various laws and regulations were enacted to protect
these poor people in their transactions with the Com¬
pany’s agents, but where the sovereign was the cjiief
trader, and a party in the cause, the impartial adminis¬
tration of justice was not to be looked for.
For some years past, the East India Company have
ceased to remit so large a part of their revenue as for-
merly in manufactured produce. So far, however, as they
still do so, the goods are provided in the manner we have
pointed out; and the same mode is followed by private
merchants, trading on their own account, for the purpose
of obtaining goods for export.
Common muslins are made in every village throughout
the peninsula. Orme says, “ When not near the high
road or a principal town, it is difficult to find a village in
which every man, woman, and child, is not employed in
making a piece of cloth.”
The very fine muslins to which we have alluded, of
such exquisite texture as to have been poetically de¬
signated “ webs of woven wind,” are made at Dacca.
They were intended chiefly for the use of the potentates
of the country, who kept agents to superintend the work¬
men employed in the manufacture ; but since the assump¬
tion by the Company of the territories of these Indian
princes, the demand has fallen off, and a considerable part
of the population have betaken themselves to the cultiva¬
tion of indigo. The cotton from which the muslins of
Dacca are woven, grows in a district of not more than
forty miles in length by three in breadth, and in such limit¬
ed quantity as never to have become an article of com¬
merce.1
The long cloths and fine pullicats are made chiefly
within the presidency of Madras, the coarse piece goods
and pullicats in Surat, the finest calicoes at Masulipa-
tam, and tablecloths of a superior quality at Patna. Each
district varies from the others in the nature of its produc¬
tions, as may be seen from the different denominations of
cotton goods to be found in every investment coming
from India.
An apprehension has sometimes been expressed that
the inhabitants of India, in possession of the raw mate¬
rial, may obtain a knowledge of our machinery, and, by
combining with its peculiar advantages their cheaper la¬
bour and superior manual dexterity, may be enabled to
undersell us to such a degree as to ruin and put an end
to our manufacture ; but in the state of the people of
India there are circumstances which render this impos¬
sible, without a change being first produced upon their
moral condition, their institutions, and their habits. The
training which makes the Indian, with such imperfect
tools, able to perform his work so well, disqualifies him
from doing it in any other way, or with any other imple¬
ments than those to which he has been familiarized from
his infancy. The attempt to introduce our machinery
into India is, however, now making. A spinning mill has
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
397
been built at Calcutta, and although the private company were principally (in point of value almost entirely) com- Cotton
which commenced the undertaking has failed, the work con- posed of manufactured produce. They are now in a great Manufac-
tinues to be carried on. There are at present nearly seven measure made up of the produce of the soil, indigorcot- ture-
^ hundred persons employed in the mill, engaged at the ton wool, raw silk, saltpetre, &c.&c. It mio-ht have been
rate of about seven shillings each per month ; but these expected that this change would have produced most
people, it is found, cannot continue to work beyond a few distressing effects upon the crowded population of a coun¬
hours at a time, and a succession of hands to carry on the try such as India, which in all ages has been a great ma-
operations through the day is required. To train them, nufacturing and exporting community; but no materially
in such circumstances, to dexterity and skill, is impos- unfavourable consequences have flowed from it. In India
sible; and, accordingly, the yarn spun is not only of infe¬
rior quality, but, even with the low nominal wages, costs
so much as to disqualify it for competition with the yarn
of this country.
The extensive introduction of machinery into Great Bri¬
tain has meanwhile, by reducing the price of our manufac¬
tures, enabled us not only to maintain a successful compe¬
tition with the India goods at home, but to send cottons
to a great amount to India itself. A complete revolution
has in consequence taken place in the nature of the ex¬
ports from that country to Europe, and indeod to all the
markets on this side of the Cape of Good Hope. When
we first got possession of India, our investments at home
every manufacturer is at the same time a husbandman.
When not employed to make a web, he supports his family
by agricultural labour. It thus happened, that in pro¬
portion as the demand for goods for export declined, the
natives, without difficulty, and without that distress which
generally attends a change of employment in other coun¬
tries, were able to direct their attention more and more to
agriculture, and the result has hitherto been rather an
improvement in their condition than otherwise.
The following tables show the difference of the cost of
cotton yarn produced in India and in Great Britain, and
the progressive increase of the export of yarn from this
country to India.
Comparative Statement of the Cost of English and Indian Cotton Yarn in the Years 1812 and 1830, furnished by Mr
Kennedy of Manchester, to the Committee of Parliament on East India Affairs.
No.
40
60
80
100
120
150
200
250
English Cotton Yakn.
Hanks per day per
spindle.
1812.
2-
1-75
1-5
H
1-25
1-
75
1830.
2-75
2*5
2*
1*8
1*65
1*33
9
6
Price of Cotton and
Waste per lb.
1812.
2 10
3 4
4 0
1830.
Labour per lb.
1812.
s. d.
1 0
1 6
2 2
2 10
3 6
6 6
16 8
31 0
1830.
0 7£
I 0£
1 7£
2 2£
2 8
4 11
11 6
24 6
Cost per lb.
1812.
20 0
35 0
1830.
s. d.
1 fi4
1 10£
2 6f
3 4^
4 0
6 7
14 6
28 2
Indian Cotton Yarn.
Cost
per lb.
1812 &
1830.
s. d.
3 7
6 0
9 3
12 4
16 5
25 6
45 1
84 0
Labour
per lb.
1812 &
1830.
s. d.
3 4
5 8^
8 10>
11 11
16 0
25 0
44 7
83 4
Price of
Cotton and
Waste
per lb.
1812 &
1830.
s. d.
0 3
0 3J
0 4l
o b
0 5
0 6
0 6
0 8
State of the Export of Cotton Yarn and of Piece Goods from Great Britain to India from 1818 to 1831.
Year.
Cotton yarn, lbs.
Piece goods, yards.
—
1823.
123,585
1824.
105,864
1825.
235,366
1826.
919,807
1827.
1828.
2,793,645 4,185,280
1829.
2,896,325
33,054,420
1830.
4,291,713
41,503,247
1831.
6,703,655
The cotton manufacture of China is of immense amount,
and is carried on almost entirely for home consumption ;
but its origin is not of the same remote date as that of In¬
dia. Indeed the lateness of its rise, and the slowness of
Us progress, in a situation so favourable, appear extraordi¬
nary. In the accounts of the revenues and of the arts of
China during the period of the celebrated dynasty which
commenced about 1100 years before the Christian era,
and lasted for some centuries, no mention is made of the
cotton plant; nor indeed is there any notice of cotton in
these records until about 200 years before the Christian
era, from which period to the sixth century, the cotton
cloth, which w as either paid in tribute, or offered in pre¬
sents to the emperors, is always mentioned as a thing rare
and precious.
The annals record as a singular circumstance that the
Emperor Ou-ti, who mounted the throne in 502, had a
robe of cotton. In the seventh century we find the cot¬
ton plant mentioned, but its cultivation appears to have
been then confined to gardens ; and the poems and ro¬
mances of that period are occupied in celebrating the
beauty of its flowers. From these circumstances we may
venture to say that there could have been no manufac¬
ture of the article in the country at that time. It was in
the eleventh century that the cotton plant was first re¬
moved from the gardens to the fields, and became an ob¬
ject of common culture; and it is not until this period that
we can date the commencement of the manufacture. So
slow and backward sometimes are nations, far advanced
in other respects, to prosecute objects, afterwards consi-
’ll
398
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
Cotton deredby them as indispensable to their comforts. Ibis
Manufac- is the more remarkable in the case of the Chinese, a peo-
ture. possessed of much ingenuity, and awake to every thing
1 connected with self-interest. _ .
The cotton tree was introduced into China at the time
of the conquest of that country by the Mogul lartars, in
the year 1280; after which period every encouragement
was given by government to the culture and manufacture
of cotton. But there were considerable difficulties to be
encountered, in the prejudices of the people, and in ie
opposition of those engaged in the manutacture of woollen
and linen ; and it was not until the year 1368 that these
obstacles were altogether surmounted. After that date
the progress of the cotton manufacture was rapid, and
nowPnine tenths of the population are clothed in its fa-
bl Almost the only cotton goods exported ffomi Chma^are
nankeens. Barrow states the production of all the fabiics
of the Chinese manufacture at the time he visited the
country in 1792 to be stationary, attributing this to the
want of proper encouragement from the government, and
to the rigid adherence of the people to ancient usages.
To keep a manufacture in a progressive state, there mus
he a progressive demand for its products ; and the Chi¬
nese manufacturers having no means of disposing of any
surplus quantity, must accommodate the supply to the
wants of their own consumption. It is said by travel¬
lers who have obtained access to that country, that the
people show a great desire for articles of British manufac¬
ture. How valuable then to both countries would be the
establishment of a free intercourse, and how conducive
probably to the increase of the productions of both.
The Chinese, over and above the cotton wool which taey
raise at home, import largely from British India, and from
the Burmese territories. This intercourse commenced
about fifty-five years ago. A famine, which happened m
China about that period, induced the government to direct,
by an imperial edict, that a greater proportion of the land
should be thrown into the cultivation of grain, bince
then, the importation of cotton from India has been consi¬
derable, although constituting but a small part of what
is consumed in their manufacture. 1 he amount ot the im¬
portations is stated at 40,000 bales. _ .
Introduc- The manufacture of cotton goods in Europe is said to
tioninto have been first attempted by the commercial states of
Europe. Italy, before the discovery of the passage to India by the
Cape of Good Hope. These enterprising communities
were the entrepots through which the cotton fabrics of
India passed to the different markets of the West; and
bein«- situated in the neighbourhood of countries where
the cotton wool was grown, and familiar with manufactur-
ing processes, it is supposed that they were led to at¬
tempt the imitation of articles so much valued, and brmg-
in<T so high a price. Another speculation places the in¬
troduction of the cotton manufacture into Europe at a
later date, and gives to the people of the Low Coun¬
tries the honour of having been the first manufacturers of
these articles, in imitation of the cotton fabrics which
the Dutch, about the beginning of the seventeenth cen¬
tury, began to import from India. But this last account
cannot be correct; for Guicciardini, in 1560, in a very
full list which he gives of the different articles annually
imported into and exported from Antwerp,1 then the
greatest commercial mart in Europe, specines fustians
and dimities of many fine sorts among the manufactured cc
articles imported from Milan, and mentions cottons gene- Ma £<
rally among those brought from \enice. But in the arti- U
cles exported from Antwerp, although we find linens sent
to almost every country, cotton cloth is not once men¬
tioned. Italy, therefore, at that time had a cotton manu¬
facture, which, it is probable, soon after made its way to
the Netherlands; for we know it was brought from the
latter country to Britain by Protestant refugees about the
close of tbe sixteenth or early in the seventeenth century.
That this manufacture was carried on in England at a
pretty early period of the seventeenth century, we knowtion
from good authority. Lewis Roberts, in his “ Treasure
of Traffic,” published in the year 1641, says, “ The town
of Manchester buys linen yarn from the Irish in great
quantity, and weaving it, returns the same again in linen
into Ireland to sell. Neither does her industry rest here;
for they buy cotton wool in London that comes from Cy¬
prus and Smyrna, and work the same into fustians, ver-
milions, and dimities, which they return to London, where
they are sold, and from thence not seldom are sent into
such foreign parts, where the first material may be more
easily had for that manufacture.” These goods were
woven chiefly about Bolton, and were purchased there at
the weekly market by the Manchester dealers, who after¬
wards finished them, and either sent them to London for
export, or sold them to their customers over the coun-
11 "At this period, and for a long time after, the weaverE^tat*
provided his own warp, which was of linen yarn, and theotiU
cotton wool for his weft, buying them wherever he could™;™
best supply himself. But as the trouble of looking aboutla,f
for these materials was found to be an unprofitable appli- ,
cation of his time, the Manchester purchasers establish- :
ed agents in the different villages for the sale of those
articles. In this way of conducting the business, each
weaver’s cottage formed a separate and independent little
factory. The yarn for his warp was bought by him in a
prepared state, the wool for his weft was carded and spun
by the female part of his family, and the cloth was woven
by himself and his sons. .
This is the situation in which we generally find a manu¬
facture before the introduction of machinery, and parti¬
cularly before it has been carried to such an extent as to
allow of a division oflabour, and a separation of the dmer-
ent processes into distinct employments. _ At this stage,
the workman has usually his residence in the country,
where he can be accommodated with a little garden
ground, and perhaps with grass for a cow; and there, m
the bosom of his family, aided by the industry of its differ¬
ent members, he prosecutes his employment. How mueti
more of the comforts of life and of the means of natural
enjoyment belong to this state of the manufacture than
to the more advanced one, in which combined systems o
machinery, and a more perfect division of labour, collect
the workmen into factories and towns ! .
It would be impossible to enumerate all the descriptions
of cotton goods which, in succession, were brought for¬
ward from the commencement of the manufacture. 1
pattern cards of the principal houses in the trade, wluci
were circulated from time to time through the kingdom
and over the continents of Europe and America, exhib -
ed specimens of nearly two thousand kinds, cornprelien -
inc- in the assortment every variety of taste and fancy.
grszzssz u ^ ««^, «*«»*«■««*•* *
ton velvets, velveteens, and strong and fancy cords. (Artken’s History of Manchester.)
tl
For the introduction and after improvement of many of
■ these articles, the country is indebted to the late Mr John
Wilson of Ainsworth. This gentleman was originally a
' manufacturer of fustians at Manchester, but had early
engaged in the manufacture of cotton velvets, and by per¬
severing efforts he succeeded in bringing it to the utmost
degree of perfection. His improvement of the mode of
dressing, of finishing, and particularly of dyeing these
goods, acquired for them so high a character, that both
in the home and foreign market his articles sold in pre¬
ference to those of every other manufacturer. His plan
for cleaning off the loose and uneven fibres was by the use
of razors. He afterwards successively employed for this
end singeing by spirits of wine, and the"application of a hot
iron resembling a weaver’s drying iron, which last instru¬
ment had been introduced for the same purpose in the
manufacture carried on in the Manchester house of cor¬
rection, by Mr Whitlow, governor of that institution. At
a later period Mr Wilson effected his object by drawing
the goods rapidly over a cylinder of cast iron heated to
redness, by which they were in a superior manner cleared
of the down or pile which had been raised upon them in the
various operations of weaving,washing, bleaching, or dyeing.
These successive inventions of Mr Wilson, for performing
this process, give us some idea of the manner in which
improvements are introduced into our manufactures, when
fortunately the efforts of self-interest are directed by in¬
telligence and talent. Mr Wilson having a turn for che¬
mical inquiries, investigated the different known processes
of dyeing ; and, by the improvements he introduced in the
application of them to his own manufacture, materially
advanced that art. Having succeeded to his satisfac¬
tion in dyeing the other rich colours, he procured from
the Greeks of Smyrna the secret of dyeing Turkey red.
An account of this process was given by him in two essays,
read to the Philosophical and Literary Society of Man¬
chester, and which, on his retiring from business, he print¬
ed and distributed among his friends. The many valu¬
able improvements introduced by Mr Wilson into the dif¬
ferent processes connected with the cotton manufacture
had the effect not only to establish it more firmly, but ra¬
pidly to enlarge its extent.
A considerable share of the calico printing business was
transferred, about the year 1760, from London to Lanca¬
shire, in consequence of the cheaper accommodation for
carrying on the work, and the lower wages of the work¬
men. A fall in prices thereupon took place, and this cheap¬
ness produced an increased demand for calicoes. These
goods were at that time made of linen warp and cotton
weft, it haying been found impracticable, before Sir Rich¬
ard Arkwright’s discovery, to spin cotton warp of sufficient
strength.
At this period the dealers from Manchester, in place of
buying fustians and calicoes from the weaver, as had been
the practice before, began to furnish him with materials
foi the cloth, and to pay him a fixed price per piece for
the work when executed. Along with a portion of linen
warp, they gave him out a portion of cotton wool, which
ie was obliged to get spun into the weft he was to use.
ut so fast was the manufacture by this time outstripping
t ie process of spinning, that it frequently happened that
tie sum which the master weaver was allowed by his em-
p oyer was less than what he found himself obliged to pay
to those whom he employed to spin it. He durst not,
owever, complain, much less abate the spinner’s price,
pt his looms should be unemployed. In this state of
nogs, the further progress of the manufacture must have
'ei? s^°PPed, if a more productive mode of spinning had
not been discovered. r 45
It has been said that the yarn produced at this time
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
in England, by the one-tbread wheel, the only spinning Cotton
machine known, did not exceed in quantity what 50,000 Manufac-
spindles of our present machinery can yield. To have ture-
reared and trained hands sufficient to have doubled this
quantity, had it been possible, must have been the work
of a length of time, and the amount of the manufacture
would still have been insignificant* A change in the sys-
tem, therefore, had become indispensable ; and we find that
difierent ingenious individuals had already begun to em¬
ploy themselves in contriving a better mode of spinning.
\Vhen we contrast the splendid inventions connected
with the cotton manufacture, which from this period burst
foi th in rapid succession, with the passive acquiescence
in the use of imperfect machinery during the long period
which preceded, we are apt to ascribe these improvements
to the circumstance alone of a number of men of genius
having at that moment arisen, and to forget that the ulti¬
mate cause exists in the times which called their energies
into action.
Already, about the year 1750, the fly-shuttle had been Fly-
invented, one of the most important steps in the progress shuttle,
of the art of weaving; and in the year 1760 improve¬
ments had begun to be made in the carding process.
James Hargreaves, a weaver at Stanhill, hear Church, in
Lancashire, an illiterate man, possessed of no great me¬
chanical knowledge, had adapted the stock cards used in
the woollen manufacture, to the carding of cotton, and had
besides greatly improved them. By his invention a per-Progress of
son was able to do double the work, and with more ease iropi'ove-
than by hands carding. In the stock cards, one of the cards ment in
is fixed, whilst the other, being suspended by a cord over athe cardin«
pulley, is worked by the carder; and in this way two orProcess-
three cards can be applied to the same stock.
This contrivance was soon succeeded by the cylinder
cards, or carding engine. It is not ascertained who was
the inventor of this valuable machine, but it is known that
the grandfather of the present Sir Robert Peel was among
the first persons who used it; and that, so early as 1762^
he, with the assistance of Hargreaves, erected a carding
engine with cylinders at Blackburn. This machine did
not differ materially from that now in use, except that it
had no contrivance for detaching the cotton from the cards,
an operation which was performed by women with hand
cards.
These successful advances show that the minds of the
manufacturing class had been awakened to discovery, and
must have encouraged and stimulated the efforts that were
then making to effect corresponding improvements in spin¬
ning.
There had been several unsuccessful attempts to improve JamesIIar-
the mode of spinning before the year 1767, when James greaves in-
Hargreaves, whom we have already mentioned, invented ve.nts.tIle
the “ Spinning Jenny.” The idea of this machine is said ?Pinning
to have been suggested to him by seeing a common spin-JUin"V’
ning wheel which had been accidentally overturned, con¬
tinue its motion while it lay on the ground. If such was
the cause, it marks a mind of no common description,
which from so casual an occurrence could elicit an inven¬
tion of so much importance.
After several unsuccessful attempts to carry into exe¬
cution the conception he had formed, he succeeded in
producing a rudely constructed jenny of eight spindles,
turned by bands from a horizontal wheel. In it the eight Descrip-
rovings were passed between two pieces of wood laid iio-tion.
rizontally the breadth of the machine; and these being
grasped in the spinner’s hand, and drawn out by him, form¬
ed the rovings into threads. The structure of this “ jenny”
was soon afterwards greatly improved, and it was at last
brought to work as many as eighty spindles. This machine,
although of limited powers when compared with the beau-
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
Sir Rich,
ard Ark¬
wright’s
spinning
tiaxne.
tiful inventions which succeeded it, must be considered as
the first and leading step in that progress of discovery
which carried improvement into every branch ot the ma¬
nufacture—which, as it proceeded, changed the nature and
character of the means of production, by substituting me¬
chanical operations for human labour—which caused the
manufactured article to become more and more a product
of capital. The progress of invention after this was rapid ;
for when it was seen that, with the aid of the few mecha¬
nical combinations we have mentioned, the spinner had
been enabled to increase his power of production neai y
eighty fold, the attention of those engaged m other branches
of manufacture was awakened to the possibility of in in¬
ducing changes equally beneficial into their peculiar em-
P Hargreaves’ invention occasioned great alarm among
those who earned their subsistence by the old mode of
spinning, and even produced popular commotion. A mob
broke into his house and destroyed his machine ; and some
time after, when a better knowledge of the advantage of
his invention had begun to bring his “ spinning jenny
into general use, the people rose a second time, and scour¬
ing the country, broke to pieces every carding and spin¬
ning machine they could find. Hargreaves himself had
by this time removed to Nottingham, where he was en¬
gaged in erecting a small spinning work, about the same
period that Mr Arkwright came to settle there, being also
driven from Lancasbire by the fear of similar violence.
The “ jenny” in a short time put an end to the spinning
of cotton by the common wheel, and the whole wefts used
in the manufacture continued to be spun upon that ma¬
chine, until the invention of the “ mule jenny, by which
it was in its turn superseded. Hargreaves died in great
poverty a few years after his removal to Nottingham.
While Hargreaves was producing the common jenny,
' Arkwright (afterwards Sir Richard Arkwright) was
employed in contriving that wonderful piece of mechanism,
the spinning frame, which, when put in motion, performs
of itself the whole process of spinning, leaving to the work¬
man only the office of supplying the material, and of join¬
ing or piecing the thread when it happens to bieak..
”rhe extraordinary person to whom we owe this inven¬
tion was born in the year r?32, at Preston, in Lancashiie,
of parents in poor circumstances, and was the youngest of
thirteen children. He was brought up to the humble oc¬
cupation of a barber, and up to the time when he made
his discovery he continued to derive his subsistence from
the exercise of this employment. Living in a manufac¬
turing district, it is probable that his attention was drawn
to the mechanical contrivances around him ; and that hear¬
ing from every one complaints of the deficient supply of
cotton yarn, he was stimulated to contrive a plan for in¬
creasing the production, by changing the mode of spin¬
ning. Even after he had matured the conception of what
he proposed to execute, he had great difficulty in giving his
ideas a practical form, from his total want of mechanical
skill and experience ; and his discovery was likely to have
been lost to the world, from his not being able to find any
person willing to embark the capital that was necessary to
give the undertaking a fair trial. None but a peison of
his ardour and perseverance could have overcome such
obstacles.
It has already been mentioned that Mr Arkwright had re¬
moved to Nottingham. Here he prevailed upon the Messrs
Wrights, bankers, to advance him the sums of money neces¬
saryto enable him to go on with his experiments, it being
understood that, if his plan succeeded, they were to share in
the profits. These gentlemen, however, finding the amount
of their advances swell to a larger sum than they had ex¬
pected, while there seemed to them little prospect of the
discovery being brought into practical operation, informed c
Mr Arkwright that the transaction being out of the ordi- Jij"
nary course of their business, they would be glad if he fl
could get some one else to take their place, and repay ^ w
them their money ; and they mentioned Mr Need of Not-
tingham as a person likely to do this, from his being al-
ready engaged in other patent discoveries, and acquainted
with such undertakings. Mr Arkwright in consequence
applied to Mr Need, who told him he had no objection to
join in the scheme, if he could be satisfied that the dis¬
covery was such as he represented it, and desired him to
carry the model of his machine to Mr Strutt of Derby,
his partner in the stocking patent, by whose report he
would be guided. Mr Strutt, a man of great mechanical
knowledge, seeing at a glance the merit of the invention,
and how little was required to render it complete, told ,
Mr Need that he might with great safety close with Mr
Arkwright; the only thing wanting to his model being an
adaptation of some of the wheels to each othei, which, :
from want of science, the inventor, with all his powers of !'
contrivance, had not been able to accomplish.
In the year 1769, Mr Arkwright obtained his patent for I
spinning with rollers, and Mr Need and Mr Strutt became 1
his partners in the concerns to be carried on under it. He
erected a mill at Nottingham, which he worked by horse
power. But this mode of giving motion to the machinery
pensive, he, in the year 1771, built another mill
being expensive, —, ^ .
at Cromford, in Derbyshire, to which motion was given
^In 1772, his patent 'was contested, on the ground that
he was not the original inventor of the process for which
it was obtained; but a verdict was given in his favour,
and his right to the exclusive use of the discovery re¬
mained afterwards undisturbed.
Mr Arkwright, soon after his removal to Cromtord, tol-Oi n
lowed up hisBfirst great discovery with other inventions^ 1 pa.
i  Cnv nroniirinor the enttnnor
and combinations of machinery for preparing the cotton
for spinning, by which perfection was gradually given to
the process through all its successive operations. rorjjjLd
these additional improvements he took out another patent
in the year 1775. But in 1781, his right to this second
patent was disputed, on the plea that he was not the in¬
ventor of some of the mechanical contrivances comprehend¬
ed under it; and after different trials of the question be¬
fore the Courts of King’s Bench and Common Pleas, judg¬
ment was finally given against him in November 1/85,
and the patent cancelled. „ ,
The originality of Mr Arkwright’s mind, as well as the
merit of his invention of the spinning frame, appear most
striking when we consider the little resemblance between
this machine and the common spinning wheel. His dis¬
covery did not consist in improving an instrument which
already existed, but in the invention of an entirely new
means for performing the same process in a better man¬
ner. When this is kept in view, it seems extraordinary
that such a contrivance should have been the production
of a person in his circumstances. His after inventions
for preparing the cotton, which are sometimes spoken or
as the most wonderful parts of the process of cotton spin¬
ning, do not appear to us so striking as this
of his genius. Besides the advance in mechanical know¬
ledge which he must have made before the time w
they were produced, these inventions, althoug i .on f
have been conceived by an original and fertile mind, a e
still but improved arrangements of a machine prev y
in use, or applications of his own spinning mac me
ed and adapted to the accomplishment of this objec •
the power of his mind was perhaps marke y . , i
more strongly than the judgment with which, althm.
new to business, he conducted the great conceins
Cot
tfam
.tul
-n'
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
401
)escr
ion o
tichaj
Dveni
lards.
Drawl
frame,
his discovery gave rise, and the systematic order and ar¬
rangement which he introduced into every department
of his extensive works. His plans of management, which
> have been entirely his own, as no establishment of
a similar nature then existed, were universally adopted
by others; and after long experience they have not yet, in
any material point, been altered or improved.
In 1786, Mr Arkwright, on presenting an address from
the county of Derby, of which he was then high sheriff,
had the honour of knighthood conferred upon him.
We shall now proceed to give an account of the differ¬
ent machines used in cotton spinning, invented by Sir
Richard Arkwright, and of those afterwards invented by
others, describing them in the order in which they are
employed. In this manner we shall be able to exhibit a
view of the present state of the art.
The cotton wool, after it has been carefully picked,
r either by the hand or by a machine, is carried to the card¬
ing engine. This machine consists of two or more large
^cylinders covered with cards, with teeth like those of
lS' hand cards, which revolve in opposite directions, and
nearly in contact with each other. These cylinders are
either surmounted by other small ones, covered in like
manner with cards, by whose revolutions in opposite di¬
rections to those of the larger cylinders, and with differ¬
ent velocities, the cotton is carded, and put on the last
or finishing cylinder; or, as is now more generally prac¬
tised, the first cylinder, that is, the one nearest the feed¬
er, is surrounded by a fixed concave framing lined with
cards, which coming nearly in contact with the cylinder
cards, produce the same effect in the process as the top
cylinders, and in a more simple manner. (See Plate
CLXXVII. fig. 1, 2, 3, 4.)
We have noticed, in speaking of the carding engine
which Mr Peel erected in 1762, that at that time the
cotton was taken off the finishing cylinder by means of
hand cards. But by the time Mr Arkwright began his
spinning, this operation was performed by the application
of a roller with tin plates upon it like the floats of a water
wheel, which, revolving with a quick motion, scraped off
the cotton from the card. This was a rude contrivance,
and in its operation injured both the cotton and the cards.
Mr Arkwright substituted for it a plate of metal, toothed
at the edge like a comb, which, in place of being made
to revolve like the other, was moved rapidly in a perpen¬
dicular direction by a crank, and, with slight but reite¬
rated strokes on the teeth of the cards, detached the cotton
from them in a uniform fleece. In place also of sheet
cards, with which the finishing cylinder had hitherto been
covered, he employed narrow fillet cards, wound round it
in a spiral form, by which contrivance a continuity of the
fleece was produced, which, as it left the card, was gradu¬
ally contracted in its size by being passed through a kind
of funnel, and then flattened or compressed between two
rollers, after which it was received into a tin can in the
state of a uniform continued carding.
The taking off the cotton from the cards in this manner
is one of the most beautiful and curious operations in the
process of cotton spinning ; and although the crank, which
forms a part of the apparatus, had perhaps been used in
some way or other prior to the date of Mr Arkwright’s
second patent, as was urged in the action for having it set
aside, the comb for taking off the fleece, and the spiral
card which produces its continuity, were inventions indis¬
putably his own.
I he next step in the process after the carding is what
is called drawing the cotton. The machine employed for
this purpose, called the drawing frame, is constructed upon
tiie same principle as the spinning frame, from which ma¬
chine the idea of it was taken. To imitate the operation
VOL. VII.
performed by the finger and thumb in hand spinning, two Cotton
pairs of rollers are employed ; the first pair, slowly revolv- Ahmufac-
ing in contact with each other, are placed at a little dis- ture'
tance fiom the second pair, which revolve with greater *
velocity. The lower roller of each pair is furrowed or
fluted longitudinally, and the upper one is neatly covered
with leather, to give the two a proper hold of the cotton.
If we suppose a carding to be passed between the first
pair of rollers, it will be drawn forward as they move, but
without any change in its form and texture further than a
slight compression received from the incumbent roller.
But if, from the first pair, it be passed through the se¬
cond, moving with twice or thrice the velocity of the first,
it will be drawn twice or thrice smaller than it was when
it entered the first rollers. In the succeeding operation,
two, three, or more of these drawings are passed together
through the rollers in the same manner, coalescing as they
pass, and forming a single new drawing. This doubling
and drawing is several times repeated, having the effect
to arrange all the fibres of the cotton longitudinally in a
unifbrm and parallel direction, and to do away with all
inequalities of thickness. In these operations the cotton
receives no twist. (See Plate CLXXVII. fig. 5, 6.)
Roving the cotton, which is the next part of the pro-Roving
cess of preparation, is an operation similar to that em-frame."
ployed for drawing it, only that, to give the rove, in its
now reduced thickness, such a degree of tenacity as will
make it hold together, a slight twist is given to it, con¬
verting it into a soft and loose thread. This is effected
by passing it, as it leaves the rollers, into a conieal can,
which, while receiving it, revolves with considerable velo¬
city. (See Plate CLXXVII. fig. 7, 8, 9.) After this the
rove is wound by the hand upon a bobbin by the younger
children of the mill, and carried to the spinning frame.
About the year 1817, the fly frame was introduced for Fly frame,
preparing rovings for the middle and coarser numbers of
both warp and weft; and this machine having received
considerable improvements since, has nearly superseded
the use of the roving frame. Instead of the revolving
cans of the roving frame, the fly frame has spindles placed
at equal distances from each other, with a fly on the top
of each, one of the legs of which is made in the form of a
tube, for the purpose of receiving the roving and convey¬
ing it to the bobbin. The rollers deliver the roving to
the top of the fly, where it passes through a small hole
immediately above the centre of the spindle, called the eye
of the fly, and from which it descends through the tube
to the bobbin, which is fitted loosely on the spindle. The
fly revolves rapidly round the bobbin, and winds the rov¬
ing on it as fast as it is delivered by the rollers. (See
Plate CLXXIX. fig. 1, 2.) The motion of the rollers and
spindles are equal and uniform at all times; hence the
twist is equally diffused over all parts of the roving. But
to adapt the taking up of the roving to the uniform de¬
livery of the rollers, the speed of the bobbin must be va¬
riable and unequal; for while it increases in diameter, the
velocity of its acting circumference will remain the same.
The ratio of its accelerating motion, therefore, must be
equal to the ratio of its increasing diameter; that is, sup¬
posing the bobbin to follow the fly; but sometimes the fly
follows the bobbin, in which case the speed of the bobbin
must decrease in the same ratio as above.
An important improvement in the process of prepara-Tube
tion for cotton spinning is the tube frame lately intro-frame,
duced. It is employed as a finishing frame for coarse
numbers; but, when used as a slabbing or roving frame,
it may be applied to the preparation of yarns of any num¬
ber whatever. The construction of this machine differs
from that of the roving frame, in having, instead of cans,
revolving horizontal cylinders, parallel with the beam roll-
3 E
402
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
Spinning
frame.
Throstle.
Cotton ers, placed about twelve inches in front of the beam. Its
Manufac- chief advantage lies in the great quantity ot roving it can
ture- produce in a given time, its superiority of production to
the fly frame being as eighty-four to seventeen ; but the
rove it produces is inferior in quality, and, having no twist,
is extremely soft and tender, and causes a greater quantity
of waste than the roves prepared by the fly frame.
The spinning frame has the double set of rollers which
have been described in the account given of the drawing
and roving frames, and which, operating in the same man¬
ner as in those machines, extend the rove, and reduce it
to a thread of the required fineness The twist is given
to the thread by the application of the spindle and fly
the common flax wheel, adopted in the machine for t
purpose. (See Plate GLXXVIU- . .. .
The yarn produced by this mode of spinning is called
water twist, from the circumstance of the machinery by
which it is obtained having been, for a long time after its
invention, put in motion by water. . .
The only attempt to extend the principle comprehended
in Sir Richard Arkwright’s first contrivance, the spinning
frame, is to be found in the machine called the throstle,
introduced about the year 1810. In this machine spin¬
ning apparatus is in every respect the same as in Su Rich¬
ard Arkwright’s frame, but the movement of the parts is
dl<In place of four or six spindles being coupled together,
forming what is called a head, with a separate movement
by a pulley and drum, as is the case m the frame, the
whole rollers and spindles on both sides of the throstle
are connected together, and turned by bands from a tin
cylinder lying horizontally under the machine. 1 he merit
of the invention chiefly lies in the simplification of the
moving apparatus just mentioned. The movement is not
only rendered lighter, but greater facility is afforded for
increasing the speed of the machine, and consequently,
when the nature of the spinning admits it, for obtaining
a larger production. The throstle can also, with more ease,
and at less.expense, be altered to spin the different gusts
of yarn ; only a few movements require to be changed in
it to produce this end, while in the spinning frame there
are a great many. (See Plate CLXXVIII. fig. 11.)
An improvement on the throstle, which was thought to
be very promising, was lately made, by Mr Dan forth, an
American spimfer. His object was to obviate the vibration
of the spindle (caused by the flyer being placed on the
top of it, with nothing to keep it steady), whereby it is
prevented from being driven with advantage beyond a
certain limited speed. To remedy this, Mr Danforth in¬
troduced into his throstle a stationary spindle, on the top
of which he fixed an inverted conical cup. In this im¬
proved throstle the bobbin revolves on the spindle with
great rapidity, and by a transverse motion is raised and
lowered so as to be, when at the highest point, entirely
within the cup, and when at the lowest entirely below it.
The edge of the cup passing thus along the whole length
of the bobbin, builds the yarn equally on every part while
it is receiving the necessary twist. ,
To secure to himself the benefit of this invention, Mr
Danforth took out patents in all the different European
states. His improvement gives a great increase ot quan¬
tity, but is accompanied by such an addition of waste as
to form, in the opinion of many spinners, an insuperable
objection to its use. Mr Robert Montgomery of Loch-
winnoch, Renfrewshire, has, however (1832), made addi¬
tions to this machine, which he expects will make it pro-
r duce even a larger quantity and better quality of yarn than
MrCromp-Mr Danforth’s> without waste. .
Se mule Mr Samuel Crompton of Bolton in 1775 completed Ins
jenny. invention of the “ mule jenny, in contriving wmch .e
Mr Dan-
forth’s
throstle.
had been engaged for several years. But this machine 0
did not come into general use, nor was its value known,
until after the expiration of Arkwright’s patent; because ^
till then, the spinner was confined to the rove prepared
for common jenny spinning, which was unsuitable to the
mule jenny. ,
After the spinner was allowed to make use ot Mr Ark-
wrMht’s fine process of preparation, by his patent being
cancelled, the power of this machine became known; and
its introduction forms another important era in the his¬
tory of the cotton manufacture. Being fitted to supply
those “ grists” and qualities of yam which the other ma¬
chines could not produce, the manufacturer was ena¬
bled to enter upon fabrics which otherwise it would have
been vain to attempt. Warqs of the finest quality are spun
upon the mule; while, on the spinning frame, yarn of a
finer grist than No. 50 cannot be spun to advantage. The
reason is, that the fine thread has not strength to stand
the pull of the rollers when winding itself on the bobbin
of the spinning frame ; a stress which is saved to it in the
mule, where the draught takes place only in a slight de¬
gree faster than the rove is given out by the rollers. All
wefts, from the lowest to the highest numbers, are now
spun upon Crompton s machine, the use of Eaigieaves
jenny having been entirely superseded by it. It was some
time, indeed, after tbe mule came into use, before it was
ascertained that the finest yarn required for the manufac¬
ture could be produced from it. But in the year 1792,
Mr Jonathan Pollard of Manchester succeeded in spin-
nin<>- yarn upon the mule, of the fineness of 278 hanks to
thexpound, from cotton wool grown by Mr Robley, in the
island of Tobago. This yarn was sold at twenty guineas
per pound to the muslin manufacturers of Clasgow.
The mule, in its structure and operation, is a compound D
of the spinning frame and of Hargreaves’ jenny, fromtu
which circumstance it has probably received its name.111
It contains a system of rollers like that belonging to the
twist frame; but in place of having every four or six of
them in separate heads, as is the case in that machine, the
whole are coupled together; and the rove being drawn
through them, is, in its conversion into thread, received
on spindles revolving like those of the jenny. The car¬
riage on which these spindles are placed is moveable, and
is made to recede from the rollers a degree faster than
the thread is given out. After a certain quantity of the
roving has been thus delivered by the rollers, they are
stopped; but the carriage continues to recede somewhat
farther; and the spindles continuing also to revolve, the
thread is drawn out to the fineness required, and then re¬
ceives its proper portion of twist. This last operation le-
sembles that performed by the common jenny, and pro¬
duces a similar effect. (See Plate CLXX * III. g. •)
Mr Crompton took out no patent; but many years after
he had given this important invention to his country, he
received from parliament a grant of L.5000.
The mule was originally worked by the spinner s hand;.-
the
enn1
A 1 1 U IlilllC/ >» do I. J 1 • r,r|
but in 1792, Mr William Kelly of Glasgow, at that timej
manager of’the Lanark Mills, obtained a patent for moy
it for
ing itby machinery. Mr Kelly soon saw, however, that mjbj
the extended state of the cotton trade, the exclusive pos-m u .'
session of this important improvement was not like y
be quietly acquiesced in; and, unwilling to involve bin
self in the litigation which would have been necessary
defend his privilege, although the undisputed inven
of the process, he allowed every one freely to avail
self of its advantages.
Mr Kelly’s machinery was contrived so as to move e )
part of the mule, even to the returning of the carnage f
its place, after the draught was finished. Had Ins in
tion come into full operation, the employment of men a
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
403
Self-ac
mu!i'
i spinners would have been thereby rendered unnecessary,
iC. ancj children would have been able to do all the duty
required. But, after a short trial, it was discovered that
J a greater amount of produce could be obtained, and at a
cheaper rate, by using the machinery merely to draw out
the carriage, and employing the men to return it as for¬
merly. In this way one spinner could serve two mules,
the one carriage moving out during the time that he was
engaged in returning the other.
0f Proceeding in this train of discovery, it was next found
unnecessary to confine the mule to a hundred and forty-
four spindles, the largest number which it had till then
^’contained ; for with the assistance of the above mechanical
improvement, the spinner was able to manage two mules
of three or four hundred spindles each, and thus to spin
on six hundred or eight hundred, instead of on only a
hundred and forty-four spindles.
The process of mule spinning continued to be conduct¬
ed upon this plan, till several proprietors of large cotton
works restored the part of Mr Kelly’s machinery which
returns the carriage into its place after the draught is
completed. By thus lessening the fatigue to the spinner,
they were enabled to employ women in place of men.
All that is to be done by the spinner in this case is, with
a slight touch of the hand to shift the band, so as to allow
the carriage to be moved back into its resting position,
and, as this takes place, to manage the guide for building
the cop, and regulate and temper the motion of the car¬
riage as it recedes.
An extension of the size of the mule employed in spin¬
ning very fine numbers was accidentally suggested to a
spinner of Manchester in 1830, and enabled him to re¬
duce the wages paid for spinning these numbers sixpence
a pound. Being desirous to fill a garret-room of his mill
with jennies of five hundred spindles each, of the size of
those worked in the rooms below, he found, from the con¬
traction of the space, occasioned by the inclination of the
roof, that there was not room for a mule of five hundred
spindles to stand across the floor. It then occurred to
him, that as in spinning those high numbers of yarn, the
movement of the carriage in drawing out so slender a
thread was of necessity very slow, it might be practicable
to work a thousand spindles in one mule, without increas¬
ing the breakage of threads; and that should this be the
case, he would then be able to fill his garret by placing
these jennies lengthwise. The experiment was tried, and
the mule of a thousand spindles found to work so well
as to admit of the above reduction of the wages of the
spinner.
There is at present (1832) in a course of trial in differ¬
ent spinning works, a mule, the carriage of which, after
having drawn out the thread, is returned by mechanical
means, without the aid of the spinner, or the guidance of
his hand to secure the uniform building of the cops. The ap¬
paratus for accomplishing this can be affixed to the mules
now in use without any other alteration. Messrs Sharpe
and Robarts took a patent in 1829 for this invention ; but
the right to the discovery having been disputed, its gene¬
ral adoption was retarded till about six months ago, when
a verdict in their favour was obtained. The machinery for
effecting the object being rather complicated, fears have
been entertained that it may be liable to get out of order,
and cause frequent stoppages of the work, besides occasion¬
ing a considerable expense in keeping the machine in re¬
pair. The most judicious spinners, however, consider the
discovery to be founded upon correct principles ; and when
such is the case, we may count upon mechanical science be¬
ing able sooner or later to simplify the movement, and ad-
m it of the improvement being brought into general use. Se¬
veral mill proprietors in Lancashire are in the course of al¬
tering their mules to spin in this manner; and if the plan Cotton
succeeds theyr wall be able to dispense w ith the mule spin- Manufac-
ners, retaining merely the piec'ers (children) to take up Uire-
and join the broken ends.
In addition to the process of preparation already de-Stretching,
scribed as employed in frame and coarse mule spinning,
the cotton intended for fine mule spinning goes through
a further operation. It wms found that extending the
roves at once to a fine thread, was a reduction of texture
too rapid to admit of the production of a good article, and
that an intermediate operation was necessary. This gave
rise to the process of stretching, which is performed on a
mule fitted up for the purpose, which draws the rove an¬
other degree finer, without communicating to it such an
additional twist as might prevent its being extended after¬
wards into a thread upon the spinning mule.
We have now finished our account of the different ma¬
chines employed in cotton spinning, and have endeavour¬
ed to describe the succession of improvements which have
been made on them up to this time, so as to give some
idea of the progress in their power of production. But it
will not be possible, from the nature of the subject, to ex¬
hibit in a similar manner the not less important advances
made from time to time in the construction of the minute
parts of these machines, and in the skill and management
of the spinner who works them. By these means a pro¬
gressive acceleration of their movement was rendered
practicable, and even after the machine had long been
apparently in a very perfect state, the quantity of produce
was more than doubled.
About the year 1790 the average product of the spinner
of yarn No. 40 was little more than a hank per spindle
per day; but by the year 1812, as appears by Mr Ken¬
nedy’s table of the comparative cost of the cotton yarn of
India and of this country, it had advanced to two hanks
per day; and in 1830 to 2‘75. The effect of this increase
of production upon the cost of the article was very great,
as will be seen by the following statement of the reduc¬
tion of the wages of spinning, and of the fall in the sale
price of yarn which x'apidly succeeded.
We have already noticed that, until the cancelling of
Sir Richard Arkwright’s patent, by which the mule spin¬
ner became at liberty to use his improved mode of pre¬
paration, the few fine wefts required vvere spun-on Har¬
greaves’ jenny. In the year 1786 this yarn was sold in
Glasgow and Paisley at 31s. per pound for No. 90, 7s.
per pound being the price of spinning it. The warp was
spun upon the twist frame, and was sold at the same time
at 47s. 6d. the pound for No. 90.
We are informed by Mr Crompton, that immediately
upon his completing his invention of the mule, in the year
1775, he obtained 14s. per pound for the spinning and
preparation of No. 40 ; that a short time after he got 25s.
per pound for the spinning and preparation of No. 60;
and that he then span a small quantity of No. 80 to show
that it was not impossible to spin yarn of so fine a grist,
and for the spinning and preparation of this he got 42s.
per pound- For some little time after the mule came into
general use, in the year 1786, it was the practice in many
places for the spinner to purchase the wool in a prepared
state; and separate concerns for preparing cotton were
established and carried on. At this time 10s. per pound
were paid for spinning No. 100; but soon afterwards the
wages for this number were reduced, first to 8s. and then
to 6s. 8d. In 1790 the price of spinning No. 100 was 4s.
per pound. In 1792 it was brought to 3s. Id., and in
1793 to 2s. 6d., at which price it continued till 1795;
when the mule coming to be worked by machinery, and
an increase being made in the number of spindles, the
spinner was enabled so to extend the quantity of his pro-
404
Cotton duce
Manufac- wages. The price of spinning No. 100 was in the course
ture- of a few years brought down to 8d. per pound, at which
price it continued until 1826, when it was further reduce
to 6Ad. per pound. Notwithstanding this extraordinary
diminution of the price of spinning, such have been the
effects of the improvements in the plan and construction
of the machinery, in the selection and preparation o ie
wool, and in the spinner’s skill and tact in the execution
of his work, that he is able to earn more money now tlian
he did when the wages were at the highest.
The following table gives the numbers, the age, ana
sex of the persons employed in twenty-nine of the spin¬
ning mills belonging to Glasgow, with the maximum an^
minimum amount of weekly wages earned in 7
different sexes at the different ages. Extracted fiom
Cleland’s valuable work' The Statistics of Glasgow.
Age from 9 to 10.
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
  29s. 9d.
Id.
, as to admit of another considerable reduction in In the year 1791     16s<
7 • •  xt_ inn x #     _
Weekly Wages.
Is. 3d. to 3s.
Females.
m
Weekly Wages
Is. 3£d. to 4s.
Age from 10 to 12.
Weekly Wages.
2s. to 4s.
Females.
463
Weekly Wages,
2s. to 4s.
Age from 12 to 14.
Males.
417
'Weekly Wages.
2s. 9d. to 6s.
Females.
479
Weekly Wages.
2s. 9d. to 6s. 6d
Age from 14 to 16.
Males.
274
Weekly Wages.
3s. 6d. to 7s.
Females.
419
Weekly Wages
3s. 6d. to7s.6d
Age from 16 to 18.
Males.
214
Weekly Wages.
4s. 3d-to 9s. 6d.
Females.
520
Weekly Wages
4s.Sd.to7s. 6d
Age from 18 to 21.
Males.
143
Weekly Wages.
6s. to 20s.
Females.
581
Weekly Wages.
5s. to 20s.
Age 21 and upwards.
Males.
1050;
Weekly Wages.
9s. Id. to 35s.
Females.
1411
Weekly Wages,
6s. 6d. to 20s
: lit
The sale prices of the yarn during this period were as
follows:
In the year 1786, for No. 100 38s.
1787  38s.
1788  35s.
1789  34s.
1790  30s.
1793.. . 15s. Id.
  15s. Id. ^
1795, spun from Bourbon cotton wool.l9s.
1796,  ditto 19s.
1797 19s.
1798, per sea island  9s. 10d.
1799  10s. Ud.
1800   9s. 5d.
1801   8s. 9d.
1802   8s. 4d.
1803   8s. 4d.
1804   7s. lOd.
1805..   7s. lOd.
1806   7s. 2d.
1807     6s. 9d.
Since which time the price, after various fluctuations,
fell in 1829 to 3s. 2d., and in 1831 to 2s. lid., at which
price it remained in 1832.
But the benefit of the improvements we have noticed
has not been confined to the reduction of the cost of the
yarn. Its quality has been rendered so much superior,
that the weaver is enabled, with the same hours of la¬
bour, to produce a fourth more cloth than he was able to
do forty years ago. ’
During the time that the machines for the different!: ^
processes of cotton spinning were advancing towards per-a; pi
fection, Mr Watt had been employed in maturing andP’af
reducing to practice his conceptions for extending the^j
powers of the steam-engine. His inventions for render-J
ing these available to the movements of manufacturing
machinery exhibit a beauty of contrivance peculiarly cha-ctil
racteristic of his genius, and, more than any of the other |
discoveries which mark this period, have influenced the
circumstances of this country and of mankind.
If we had no other means of giving motion to our ma¬
chinery than by placing it on a stream of water, or em¬
ploying the power of horses, how comparatively expen¬
sive must our operations have been, and how limited their
progress ! By means of Mr Watt’s inventions we are en¬
abled to carry the power at once to the situation where it
can be most advantageously used; we can place it in the
centre of a population trained to manufacturing habits,
and thus bring together the different branches of manu¬
facture, with their numerous subsidiary establishments,
all dependent upon or intimately connected with each
other, thereby giving facility and effect to their mutual
operations. .1
Some account of the introduction of the steam-engine,
therefore, naturally forms a part of the history of the cot¬
ton manufacture. In perusing the following detail, obtain¬
ed from Mr Watt in 1818, the reader, aware of the pre¬
sent extensive employment of this powerful auxiliary to
industry, will be surprised at the slowness with which it
came into general use.
Mr Watt had early turned his thoughts to the applica¬
tion of the steam-engine to rotative motion, and in the
year 1781 had devised the means for accomplishing this
end. But at the moment he was taking measures for le¬
gally securing to himself the exclusive advantages of his I
invention, a confidential workman betrayed a part of his
plan to other persons, who took a patent for it. In the fol¬
lowing year, having substituted a most ingenious contrivance
to supply the part of the process which had been stolen
from him, he obtained for Messrs Bolton and Watt a pa¬
tent for his mode of applying this power. Their first rota¬
tive engine (for we are obliged to use that term to avoi
circumlocution) was erected in the year 1782, at Bra ey
iron-works, and they erected another in the same yeai a
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
405
their own manufactory. In 1783 they erected an engine
for winding ores out of a mine in Cornwall. In 1784 they
tu erected seven engines, one for an oil mill at Hull, one at
j Messrs Goodwin and Company’s brewery in London, one
at Mr Whitbread’s, with four others, including the first
engine for that splendid establishment, the London Al¬
bion Mills. Among those erected by them in 1775 was
one for Messrs Robinsons, at Papplewick, in Nottingham¬
shire, for spinning cotton, the first instance of the applica¬
tion of steam to this manufacture. In the following year
they erected a number of their engines for various pur¬
poses ; and in 1787 one for Messrs Peels, at Warrington,
for cotton spinning, and three others for the same purpose
at Nottingham. No rotative engine had yet been erected
at Manchester; and it was seven years after Bolton and
Watt had received their patent that they constructed for
Mr Drinkwater the first engine used there for spinning
cotton. In 1790 they erected one for spinning cotton at
Nottingham for Sir Richard Arkwright, and another at
Darlington for spinning flax ; a cotton spinning engine at
Manchester for Mr Simpson, and a second at Papperwicke
for Messrs Robinsons. Some time before this Sir Richard
Arkwright and others, from an ill-judged economy in the
first cost, had introduced into their spinning factory at¬
mospherical or Newcomen’s engines, with rotative motions
applied to them. But quickly perceiving their error, they
abandoned them, and Bolton and Watt’s engines soon came
to be universally used among cotton spinners, and all other
manufacturers.
;eoulj0f In an account of the means which contributed to that
epr fall in the price of spinning which we have mentioned, we
ess ole must not omit the progressive improvement in the culti-
t!lf ovation of the raw material, and in the application of its
tton * different qualities to their most profitable uses. Previous
0Ol. to the year 1793, the cotton used in the coarser articles
of the manufacture, with the exception of a small quan¬
tity imported from India and from the Levant for the
fustian trade, was wholly the growth of our own and of
the French West India Islands. That for the better kind
of goods was raised in Demerara, Surinam, and Berbice.
The wool for fine goods was grown in the Brazils, and that
for the few very fine muslins then manufactured, in the Isle
of Bourbon.
In 1787 the descriptions of cotton imported into Britain
appear to have been as follows:—
From the British West Indies 6,800,000 lbs.
From the French and Spanish colonies 6,000,000
From the Dutch 1,700,000
From the Portuguese .....2,500,000
From the Isle of Bourbon, by Ostend  100,000
Smyrna and Turkey 5,700,000
32,800,000
Had we continued to derive our sole supply of cotton
from these countries, the progress of the manufacture
would have been greatly retarded, not only from the dif¬
ficulty of making the production of the raw material keep
pace with the increasing consumption, but from the im¬
possibility of obtaining the qualities of wool suited to the
finer descriptions of goods, which the improved machinery
enabled us to undertake.
But fortunately, about the year 1790,1 the planters in
ture.
the southern states of the American Union began to turn Cotton
their attention to raising cotton wool; and, besides carry- Manufae-
ing the cultivation of the article to a great extent, they ,
produced qualities of cotton before unknown. In 1792
the quantity of cotton exported from the United States
was only 138,328 lbs., no manufacture of cotton goods
having been attempted in America for many years after
that period. Their crop for the present year (1832) will
exceed 275,000,000 lbs., of which 63,450,000 lbs. is ex¬
pected to be used in their own manufacture, leaving
211,550,000 lbs. for exportation. In 1831 they exported
619,000 bales to Great Britain, 127,000 to F'rance, and
27,000 to other parts.
The American cotton wool first brought to this country
was very ill cleaned, and in consequence was indiscrimi¬
nately applied to the manufacture of the coarser species
of goods. It wms soon, however, perceived that the cot¬
ton raised upon the coast, termed sea island cotton, had a
finer and longer staple than that grown farther back in
the country, and known by the name of upland cotton.
But it was not for several years, and after a succession of
trials, that this wool was ascertained to be of a quality in
every respect superior to the cotton of the Isle of Bour¬
bon. Indeed, it was only in the year 1796 that the finest
description of it was applied to the purposes for which
Bourbon wool had till then been used, and which it soon
entirely supplanted. The second quality of it about the
same time supplanted the Brazil wool in many kinds of
goods.
The upland cotton is a different species from the sea
island, and is separated with such difficulty from the seed,
that the expense of cleaning the wool must have put a
stop to its further cultivation, had not a machine, by which
the operation of cleaning is easily and successfully ac¬
complished, been invented in 1795 by Mr Eli Whitney
of Massachusetts. There are two qualities of this cotton,
the one termed Upland Georgia, grown in the states of
Georgia and South Carolina, and the other, of superior
quality, raised upon the banks of the Mississippi, and dis¬
tinguished in the market by the name of New Orleans
cotton. A strong prejudice existed for some time against
the upland wool, which was thought to be of inferior qua¬
lity, and not to receive a good colour in dyeing ; but be¬
ing found suitable to different coarse fabrics, its cultivation
was so rapidly extended, that, in 1807, 55,018,448 lbs. of
upland cotton were exported from the United States.
The cotton of the finest quality ever brought to the
English market, or probably ever grown, was that former¬
ly mentioned as having been raised in the island of To¬
bago between the years 1789 and 1792, upon the estate of
Mr Robley. That gentleman carried the cultivation of
this article to some extent; but the price of cotton falling
very low, and the cultivation of sugar becoming extremely
profitable, in consequence of the destruction of the sugar
plantations in the French islands, he was induced to convert
his cotton grounds into a sugar plantation. The produc¬
tion of cotton of this very fine description was never at¬
tempted by any other person, although it is believed that
the price it would yield would amply repay its expense.
Until about the year 1815, it was thought that the cot¬
ton wool of India, from the shortness of its staple, could
not be spun with advantage upon our machinery; and in
1 The year 1790 has always been stated as the period at which the planters of the southern states began to turn their attention to
the raising of cotton wool. But we happen to know that in 1784, the late William Itathbone, an extensive American merchant in
Liverpool, received from one of his correspondents in the southern states a consignment of eight bags of cotton. This cotton, on its
arrival at Liverpool, was seized by the custom-house officers, on the allegation that it could not have been grown in the United
States, and that it was liable to seizure under the shipping act, as not being imported in a vessel belonging to the country of its
growth. When afterwards released, it lay for many months unsold, in consequence of the spinners doubting whether it could be pro¬
fitably worked up.
406
C O T T O N M A N U F A C T U R E.
ture.
Cotton consequence, the greater part of .the Indian cotton brought
Manufac- to this country was spun upon the common jenny, ana
used as weft for the coarsest calicoes. It was discovered,
however, that by mixing it with the longer stapled wools
of other countries, it might be brought into a state nt tor
the mule and spinning frames. . .
It was expected that the opening of the trade in itn*
would have led to more care in the cultivation ot the ar¬
ticle, and would have given rise to the production of cotton
of superior quality to any that had previously been obtain¬
ed from India. This, however, did not take place. It ap¬
pears, from the evidence before the parliamentary commit¬
tees in 1830-31, that up to that period there had been no
improvement in the quality of the cotton raiset in nc la;
that the dependent state of the cultivator, and the con¬
stant fiscal interference to which he was subjected, are
insurmountable obstacles to the attainment of this object;
and that until European skill and capital come to be em¬
ployed in the cultivation of the cotton, better qualities are
not to be looked for. The influence of the impolitic regu¬
lations imposed under the Company’s monopoly to secure
the revenue are particularly felt in the presidency of Bom¬
bay. Up to a late period, this was the only part ot India
in which any considerable quantity of cotton was grown
or exported. In the district of Guzzerat alone 100,000
heavy bales are annually produced.
The part of the crop which goes to the Company for
the rent of the land is delivered by the cultivator to the
Company’s collector, immediately after the cotton has been
picked, but before it has been separated from the seed.
This person fixes annually the rent which the cultivator
is to pay, the amount of which is always imposed in a
specified sum of money, but payable in cotton, rated at a
price named by the collector. Its amount upon an ave¬
rage of years is about one half of the crop. In the pay¬
ment of this rent, the collector refuses to receive any but
the best and cleanest part of the cotton, and to this the
farmers dare not object. What remains is purchased
principally by the Company’s commercial resident, who
formerly fixed the price he was to pay for it; but in the
bargains now made by the officer, he gives the average
price received by the cultivators in the surrounding dis¬
tricts.
If the culture of cotton in Guzzerat has been able to Co
exist under this oppressive system, what might not be ex- MaA
pected were the rent of the lands, as is now the case in tii
the presidency of Bengal, fixed and paid in money, and ^
were the growers at liberty to sell the^ product to those
who would give the best price for it! The rapid increase
of cultivation in Bengal since the introduction of this more
enlightened system of management, and the acquisition
amkdiffusion of wealth which have been the consequences,
present a striking contrast to the impoverished and wretch¬
ed state of the cultivators in Bombay, and speak a lan¬
guage in political science not to be misunderstood.
& Since 1814 attempts have been made to introduce the
Bourbon seed into Guzzerat. These attempts have fail¬
ed, but it would be wrong to be discouraged by the ill
success of an undertaking carried on under the manage¬
ment which usually belongs to monopoly. A very different
result may be looked for when that system and its effects
shall have been more completely done away, and improve¬
ments come to be conducted by those who are to reap
the benefit of them. Were this better system once esta- ,,
blished throughout the peninsula, it appears not unreason¬
able to expect, in a country so extensive, and of such va¬
rious soils, not only that all the qualities of cotton woo!
known to our manufacturers would be produced, but that
new varieties might be obtained, possibly of more useful
application than any we yet possess._
A Egyptian cotton was introduced into this country for Eg*
the first time in 1823. Among many schemes for calling cob
into action the capabilities of Egypt, all of which were^
selected with admirable sagacity, Mahmoud Pacha, theiac f
present ruler of that country, thought of cotton wool as a
product suited to the soil and climate, and the culture
of which, from the great and growing demand, was likely
to prove a profitable speculation. _ His measures for pro-
secutinp- this object were carried into execution with the
energy which has characterized all his proceedings, and
were upon a scale to enable him, so early as 1823, to
export 5623 bales to England. „ ,
We have not been able to obtain a statement of the ge¬
neral export of cotton from Egypt for 1823 and 18-4; but
the following table shows the amount exported annually
since that period.
The wool exported is all long-staple wool, but of two
sorts, one called in Egypt makko, and in England com¬
mon Egyptian ; the other the produce of sea island seed,
called fn Egypt Sennaar, and in England sea island Egyp¬
tian. Besides these two descriptions of cotton, Egypt
raises from 15,000 to 20,000 bales of short-staple cotton,
similar in quality to that of Smyrna, and chiefly consum¬
ed in the country itself.
The cotton received from Egypt is found to be among
the most useful that is grown, and that raised from sea
island seed ranks in quality next to American sea island.
Cottonma- Having succeeded in the production of cotton, the pacha
nufacture thought he might advance another step, and have it spun
of Egypt. into yarn and woven into cloth. He accordingly formed
establishments for spinning and weaving in Cairo, Bosacco,
Rosetta, and other places; and so early as 1826 he had
sixty-one mills at work, moved by the power of buffaloes.
The machinery was supplied from France and England,
orders in council having been obtained in the latter coun¬
try to authorize its export. Power-looms were also sent
out, but did not succeed.
Last year the pacha shipped a thousand bales of yarn
to Calcutta for sale ; but it was not of a quality to enter i
into competition with the English yarn, and it was found
to be unsaleable, except at a most disadvantageous price.
He ordered it therefore to be woven into cloth in Cal¬
cutta on his own account, and to be re-shipped to Egypt
in a manufactured state. ,
Clapperton and Landers, on their expeditions to trace In lor
the course of the Niger, found the inhabitants everywhere At •
clothed in cotton. They mention that cotton wool is pro¬
duced in the different districts in the interior, and is spun
into cloth on the spot. There exists, therefore, in the hear
of Africa an extensive manufacture of cotton cloth, it i
to be regretted that they give no information of the way
in which the yarn is spun, and no description of the loom
employed to weave it. It would be interesting to know tne
nature of the instruments used by the natives m these pr
cesses, as such knowledge might enable us to trace w enc
the Africans derive their acquaintance with the ^rl
weaving, and thus perhaps throw some light on Atnc
history. .. ’
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
jttcn
It appears that the people of Eboe, and of the countries
- near the coast, are chiefly clothed in Manchester cotton
coods; a circumstance which would lead us to expect,
J should we succeed in obtaining a commercial intercourse
with the interior of Africa, that a valuable market for our
manufactures may be found in that'country.
We have just learned that the American settlers of Li¬
beria have been able to establish a communication across
the country to Timbuctoo, and have found there a consi¬
derable market for cotton cloths.
We shall now resume our account of the progress of the
manufacture in Great Britain.
From Sir Richard Arkwright having commenced his
operations at Nottingham, the seat of the stocking manu¬
facture, and from his connection with Mr Need, who was
largely engaged in it, the whole produce of his spinning
was at first devoted to that trade. The cotton yarn for
this manufacture requires to be particularly smooth and
equal; and to secure these qualities, it is spun by a pro¬
cess differing a little from that employed for ordinary
twist; being from two roves in place of one, it is called
double spun twist. The introduction of this article pro¬
duced a great change upon the stocking manufacture.
Hand-spun cotton was entirely laid aside; and stockings
made of twist were of so superior a quality, that in a short
time they wholly supplanted thread stockings.
The manufacture of cotton stockings in Nottingham¬
shire, Derbyshire, and Leicestershire, is now of great ex¬
tent.
About the year 1773, Mr Need and Mr Strutt made
irpq; .the important discovery, that the yarn produced by the
spinning frame had sufficient strength to fit it for warp,
although its firmness and hardness rendered it less suit¬
able for weft. The weft, therefore, continued to be spun
by Hargreaves’jenny; and from this time the calicoes,
and other articles in imitation of India goods, which had
hitherto been manufactured with linen warp, came to be
made wholly of cotton; and the progressive increase of
these manufactures, particularly of calicoes, after this
time, was unexampled.
iicoe= After having made a considerable quantity of those
adeer goods, Mr Need and Mr Strutt discovered, that, when
re!.vo1 printed, they were subject to double the duty charged
ron‘! upon calicoes woven with linen warp, and that their sale
was even prohibited in the home market. After a long
and expensive application to the legislature, they suc¬
ceeded in procuring the repeal of those impolitic laws.
Nearly about the same period, calicoes entirely of cotton
were begun to be made at Blackburn ; which place soon
became the seat of their manufacture, and for a long time
the great market to which the printers from all parts of
the kingdom resorted for their supplies. This branch
went on increasing for many years in a most extraordi-
nary degree. About the year 1805, it was calculated that
the number of pieces sold annually in the Blackburn mar¬
ket was not less than a million ; and by that time the ma¬
nufacture of this article was not confined to the country
round Blackburn, but had spread into the north-west dis¬
trict of Yorkshire, principally about Colne and Bradford,
Irom which part of the country 20,000 pieces weekly are
said to have been sent to Manchester.
Ihe first attempts to make muslins in this country com ¬
menced simultaneously in Lancashire and at Glasgow
about the year 1780, but without success. There was no
yarn fitted for the weft of these goods, except that spun
upon Hargreaves’ jenny; and when made of this, it was
found they were not of a marketable quality. Recourse
was then had to wefts brought from India; and although
a better article than the former was by this means pro¬
ceed, it was still not of a quality to compete successful-
407
'he fir:
kempt
# mam
icture
luslins
Wtain,
ly vyith Indian muslin. As soon, however, as the invention Cotton
or the mule jenny enabled the spinner to produce yarns Manufac-
suited to suen fabrics, the manufacture of the finest cot- tore,
ton ai tides became an important branch of trade in this V Jr ^
country. That machine, as has been mentioned, came
into use at the end of the year 1785, upon Sir Richard
Arkwright’s patent being cancelled; and it is from that
period we ought to date the commencement of this part
of the manufacture. So rapid was its progress, that in
1787 it was computed that 500,000 pieces of muslin were
in that y^ear manufactured in Great Britain.
Muslin began to be made nearly at the same time at
Bolton, at Glasgow, and at Paisley, each place adopting
the peculiar description of fabric which resembled most
those goods it had been accustomed to manufacture; and
in consequence of this judicious distribution at first, each
place has continued to maintain a superiority in the pro¬
duction of its own article.
Jaconets both coarse and fine, but of a stout fabric,
checked and striped muslins, and other articles of the
heavier description of this branch, are manufactured in
Bolton, and in its neighbourhood.
Book, mull, and lino muslins, and jaconets of a lighter
fabric than those made in Lancashire, are manufactured
in Glasgow. Sewed and tamboured muslins are almost
exclusively made there and in Paisley. A machine of'Tambour-
most ingenious contrivance for performing the operation ing ma-
of tambouring was in the year 1807 invented by Mr John chi“e.
Duncan of Glasgow, and a patent taken out for the dis¬
covery. Each machine contains about forty tambouring
needles, and is superintended by a girl, who pieces the
thread when it breaks. This beautiful, and, at first, pro¬
mising piece of mechanism has never come into general
use. At present there are only three or four machines
kept at work by the Messrs Mitchells of Glasgow, who at
an early period became proprietors of the patent.
What are called fancy goods, woven in the loom, were
first made at Paisley, which had been the chief seat of the
silk gauze manufacture of this country. In the silk trade,
which was then beginning to fall into decay, a body of most
ingenious workmen had been bred. By employing them,
the taste and invention which had produced the varieties
displayed in that beautiful article were immediately trans¬
ferred to the production of similar fabrics of muslin. From
this circumstance Paisley for a long time retained the ex¬
clusive possession of this branch; but being only seven
miles distant from Glasgow, the general seat of the cot¬
ton manufacture of Scotland, and the mart to which most
purchasers of muslin resort, many of its principal manu¬
facturers have been induced to move their establishments
to that city, although the weaving of these muslins conti¬
nues to be executed in Paisley and its neighbourhood.
There is a curious circumstance to be noticed with re¬
gard to the manufacture of the very fine fabrics of muslin
in Scotland, that a great part of the yarn used for them is
brought from Manchester, in consequence of the Scotch
spinners not having yet been able to produce the very fine
numbers of yarn of the best quality. This inferiority does
not proceed from a less perfect construction of the ma¬
chinery employed in Scotland, the mechanics and the ma¬
chine makers of Glasgow being admitted to be excellent
workmen; neither does it arise from the want of skill in
those who conduct the business, or from any ditterence in
the processes employed in the two countries; but it is to
be attributed to the same cause which produces the supe¬
rior yarn of India, namely, an adroitness and mechanical
sleight of hand in the operative spinners of Manchester,
acquired by a few out of the great multitude bred there.
The manufacture of the thicker cotton fabrics was at
the same time rapidly rising in importance. The manu-
408
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
Cotton facture of dimities has been exclusively confined to the
Manufac- north of England, all attempts to make them m Scotland
tore- having proved unsuccessful. The finer qualities ot tins
article are made at Warrington, the coarser in the western
parts of Yorkshire. . u .
Balason handkerchiefs were first manufactured about
Preston and Chorley, where they still continue to be made.
The manufacture of ginghams was for a long time conbn-
ed to Lancashire, but for many years it has been exten¬
sively introduced at Glasgow, although Lancashire con¬
tinues to be the chief seat of this branch.
Pullicat handkerchiefs were first made about the year
1785 at Glasgow, where the manufacture of them has been
carried to a great extent. They were not made in Lanca¬
shire till some time afterwards, and the manufacture o
them there has never been to the same amountGlasgow,
therefore, continues to be the principal mart for this aiticle.
Blue and white checks and stripes for exportation were
at first of a linen fabric, but were a^fwards woven with
linen warp and cotton weft; and when Sir Richard A
wright’s discovery enabled the spinner to produce cotton
yarn of sufficient strength to be used for warps, a grea
proportion of these goods came to be made wholly of cot¬
ton This manufacture is carried on in Lancashne and
in the county of Fife, and to a small extent at Aberdeen ;
its chief seat, however, is Carlisle.
The manufacture of cotton cambric was begun about
the same period, and was separated into two branches;
into cambric to be used as garments in a white or printed
state ; and into cambric made in imitation of French linen
cambric, to be used for the same purposes as that article.
The first is made nearly altogether in Lancashire, where
the manufacture of it is carried on to great extent; and
the second, of much less amount, wholly at Glasgow, l ie
Scotch manufacturers have never been able to rival the
Lancashire in the first, nor the Lancashire manufacturers
to rival the Scotch in the last.
Bandana handkerchiefs, and Bandana cloths for gar¬
ments, were first made by Mr Henry Monteith, at Glas¬
gow, about the year 1802, and are now manufactured
there to a considerable amount. The cloth is dyed a
bright Turkey red, and the colour is discharged from those
parts which form the pattern or figure, by passing a che¬
mical mixture through them. Glasgow still continues to
be the chief seat of this manufacture, where there are
several large works for carrying it on. The demand for
Bandanas, however, has latterly fallen off, while, n^ con¬
sequence of the repeal of the impolitic duty on printed
cloths, the consumption of these has greatly increased,
and most of the proprietors of the Turkey red dyeing
establishments have therefore been induced to add calico-
printing to their former business.
From the circumstance of Glasgow being the seat of a
fine manufacture, it was found difficult, as long as hand
weaving continued, to introduce there the weaving of ca¬
licoes ; the article was made to a limited amount at Perth,
but the Scotch calico-printers were obliged to look, for
the principal part of their supply of cloth to Lancashire.
So long as this was the case, it is evident that the Scotch
were not on an equal footing with the English printers;
and as a great deal of capital had been embarked in the
trade by the former, a considerable anxiety was felt by
them that this defect in their situation should be reme¬
died. The object was at length attained by the introduc¬
tion into Scotland, in 1801, of the art of weaving by the
power of water or of steam, the machinery and subsidiary
processes for which had about that time been so improv¬
ed, that cloth woven in this way was found to come as
cheap, if not cheaper, than if produced by manual labour.
Weaving by power had been attempted fifteen years
Weaving
by power.
before its introduction into Scotland, by the Rev. E. Cart- c
wrio-ht of Hollander House, Kent, who invented a loom to %
be worked by mechanical means. The circumstances of 1
this discovery, which have been obligingly communicated S
to us in a letter from Mr Cartwright, are curious, and, in
the history of inventions, we think interesting. Mr C.
S£l^ Happening to be at Matlock in the summer of 1784,
I fell in company with some gentlemen of Manchester,
when the conversation turned on Arkwright’s spinning
machinery. One of the company observed, that as soon
as Arkwright’s patent expired, so many mills would be
erected, and so much cotton spun, that hands never could
be found to weave it. To this observation I replied, that
Arkwright must then set his wits to work and invent a
weaving mill. This brought on a conversation on the sub-
ject, in which the Manchester gentlemen unanimously
agreed that the thing was impracticable, and, in defence
of their opinion, they adduced arguments which I cer¬
tainly was incompetent to answer, or even to comprehend,
being totally ignorant ot the subject, having never at that
time seen a person weave. I controverted, however, the
impracticability of the thing, by remarking, that there had
lately been exhibited in London an automaton figure which
played at chess. Now, you will not asseit, gentlemen,
said I, that it is more difficult to construct a machine that
shall weave than one which shall make all the \arietyot
moves which are required in that difficult game.
Some little time afterwards, a particular circumstance
recalling this conversation to my mind, it struck me that,
as in plain weaving, according to the conception I then
had of the business, there could only be three movements,
which were to follow each other in succession, there would
be little difficulty in producing and repeating them. Full
of these ideas, I immediately employed a carpenter and
smith to carry them into effect. As soon as the machine
was finished, I got a weaver to put in the warp, which was
of such materials as sail-cloth is usually made of. To ray
great delight, a piece of cloth, such as it was, was the
produce. As I had never before turned my thoughts to
any thing mechanical, either in theory or practice, nor
had ever seen a loom at work, or knew any thing of its
construction, you will readily suppose that my first loom
must have been a most rude piece of machinery. Ihe
warp was placed perpendicularly, the reed fell with a
force of at least half a hundredweight, and the springs
which threw the shuttle were strong enough to have
thrown a Congreve rocket. In short, it required the strength
of two powerful men to work the machine at a slow rate,
and only for a short time. Conceiving in my great sim¬
plicity that I had accomplished all that was required, I then
secured what I thought a most valuable property by a pa¬
tent, 4th April 1785. This being done, I then condescend¬
ed to see how other people wove ; and you will guess my
astonishment when I compared their easy mode of opera¬
tion with mine. Availing myself, however, of what 1 then
saw, I made a loom, in its general principles nearly as ffiey
are now made; but it was not till the year 1 a,
completed my invention, when 1 took out my last weaving
patent August 1st of that year. _
But the idea of weaving by machinery was not ne •
About the close of the preceding century, a drawing am
a description of a similar loom (a circumstance unknown
to Mr Cartwright) had been presented to the Royal bocie y
of London. The movements, too, in both are the sam
with those of the inch-loom, a machine which had ion*
been in use. . , . .
Mr Cartwright, after obtaining his second patent, ereu
ed a weaving factory at Doncaster, which e e .
looms. This concern was unsuccessful, and was at lastah
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
doned. But still the invention was considered so import-
pL ant to the country, that some years after, upon an appli¬
cation from a number of manufacturers at Manchester,
J parliament granted Mr Cartwright a sum of money as a
remuneration for his ingenuity and trouble.
About the year 1790 Mr Grimshaw of Manchester, un¬
der a license from Mr Cartwright, erected a weaving fac¬
tory, which was to have contained five hundred looms, for
weaving coarse sacking cloth. He intended also to at¬
tempt the weaving of fustians. But after a small part of
the machinery had been set agoing, the work was de¬
stroyed by fire; and as the concern during the short trial
that had been made did not promise to be successful, the
mill was not rebuilt.
About the year 1794 Mr Bell of Glasgow' invented ano¬
ther loom, for which also a patent was taken; and a fac¬
tory of these looms was erected at Milton, near Dum¬
barton. But this concern, although carried on for many
years, was not more successful than those which had pre¬
ceded it.
• In 1801 Mr John Monteith of Glasgow erected a weav¬
ing factory in the village of Pollokshaws, containing two
hundred looms. This concern also at first promised ill,
but is understood to have afterwards succeeded, and the
number of looms was increased to three hundred.
In 1805 a large weaving factory was erected at Catrine,
in Ayrshire, by Messrs James Finlay and Company, to be
carried on in conjunction with their extensive spinning
work at that place ; and in 1808 they built another weav¬
ing factory at Doune, connected with the spinning works
there, the two containing 462 looms. The quantity of cloth
produced in these establishments, in proportion to the num¬
ber of hands employed in them, is understood to have been
greater than had been obtained before in other works, and
the undertaking is said to have done wTell from the outset.
After this period new weaving factories were erected
in Glasgow or in its neighbourhood almost every year.
In 1817 there were in Glasgow or belonging to it fifteen
weaving factories, containing 2275 looms. There are now
(1832) sixty-three factories, containing 14,127 looms.
Weaving by power, however, could never have succeed¬
ed, but for the discovery of a process for dressing the web
before it is put into the loom, which happily was effected
by Mr Radcliffe of Stockport. The stoppage of the work
from time to time for dressing the web made it impos¬
sible to do more than attend to one loom ; but by the
acquisition of this process, one person, generally a girl, can
attend to two looms.
The contrivances for “ dressing” are very ingenious, the
machinery employed in it deriving its movement from the
power which gives motion to the looms. The yarn is first
wound from the cop upon bobbins by a winding machine,
in which operation it is passed through water, to increase
its tenacity. The bobbins are then put upon the warp¬
ing mill, and the web warped from them upon a beam
belonging to the dressing-frame. From the beam now
placed in the dressing-frame, the warp is wound upon the
weaving-beam; but in its progress to it, passes through a
strong dressing of starch. It is then compressed between
two rollers, to free it from the moisture it had imbibed
with the dressing, and drawn over a succession of tin cy¬
linders heated by steam, to dry it. During the whole of
this last part of its progress, it is lightly brushed as it
moves along, and fanned by rapidly revolving fanners.
Mrl] 3. Mr Peter Marsland of Stockport, who for many years
irovei * ^as.^a(^ a large factory for weaving cotton cloth of a su-
m the ntPeri°r quality, is the inventor of an improvement upon the
team P°wer-loom, by means of the double crank, for which,
oom. about the year 1807, he obtained a patent. The opera¬
tion of the crank is to make the lathe give a quick blow
VOL. VII.
frit
liffe’;
ressii
lachi
to the cloth on coming in contact with it, and by that
means render it more stout and even.
The weaving of calicoes by power did not succeed in
Lancashire so early as it did in Scotland. In 1817, the
number of power-looms in Lancashire was estimated to
be about two thousand, of which only about one thousand
were said to be then in employment. The cause of this
was, that the price paid at the time we refer to for weav¬
ing by the hand, had been forced down to the very low¬
est degree by the depressed state of trade, and the pres¬
sure of an overgrown population bearing upon the means
of employment. Wages had fallen below the rate at which
the goods could be produced by machinery. This strug¬
gle for existence between the two processes terminated,
however, as might have been expected. The hand-wea¬
vers finding it impossible to go on with the reduced wages,
gradually gave way. Their numbers ceased to increase,
and the extraordinary addition to the amount of the ma¬
nufacture since that time has been the product of the
power-loom. The goods of a very low quality are still
woven by the hand. The yarn of which they are made is
spun from waste, or the lowest-priced wools, and has not
sufficient strength to bear the fatigue of the power-loom
movement; and it is only by the dexterous management
and sleight of the weaver’s hand that it can be at all
woven into marketable cloth.
There are now (1832) 80,000 power-looms in Lanca¬
shire. The weekly produce of two power-looms, managed
by a girl, is from ten to eleven pieces of cloth, four fourths
wide and-twenty-five yards long, woven in an ll00 reed;
for this she is paid eightpence per piece.
The following table gives the numbers, the age, and
sex of the persons employed in twenty of the weaving
mills belonging to Glasgow, with the maximum and mini¬
mum amount of the weekly wages earned in 1832 by the
different sexes, at the different ages. From Dr Cleland’s
Statistics of Glasgow.
Age from 0 to 10.
Males.
Weekly Wages.
Is. 6d.
Females.
Weekly Wages.
2s. 6d. to 3s. 6d.
Age from 10 to 12.
Males.
31
Weekly Wages.
Is. 9d. to 4s. 6d.
Females.
66
Weekly Wages.
2s. 6d. to 7s. 6d.
Age from 12 to 14.
Males.
38
Weekly Wages.
3s. to 6s. 6d.
Females.
220
Weekly Wages.
3s. to 7s. 6d.
Age from 14 to 16.
Males.
60
Weekly Wages.
3s. to 10s.
Females.
447
Weekly Wages.
4s. lOd. to 9s.
Age from 16 to 18.
Males.
36
Weekly Wages.
6s. 8d. to 12s.
Females.
538
Weekly Wages.
6s. l|d. to 10s. 2|d
3 F
410
Cotton
Manufac¬
ture
Lace ma¬
nufacture.
COTTON MANUFACTURE
Age from 18 to 21.
Weekly Wages.
7s. to 25s.
Females.
826
Weekly Wages.
7s. to 10s. 0£d.
Age 21 and upwards.
Males.
760
Weekly Wages.
16s. to 24s.
Females.
1235
Weekly Wages.
7s. to 9s. 9^d.
From the change which took place in the dress of this
country about fifteen years ago, when printed cotton cloths
were almost entirely supplanted by silks and worsted stuns,
it was expected that the manufacture of calico, and in ge¬
neral of cotton goods, would decline. But any diminution
of the sale of calicoes for the home printing trade has
been amply compensated by the great and growing demand
for exportation. These goods are either printed abroad or
used in a white state, and the number of yards of calico
produced is double what it was at the period when this
decline was apprehended.
There is a branch of the cotton manufacture yet to be
noticed, a branch not derived from the East, like muslin,
but one that has had its origin in this country,—we mean
the bobbinnet, or Nottingham lace manufacture, which
now furnishes employment to a large amount of labour
and capital. ''“T1 !
That the stocking-frame should have been transferred
into a machine for weaving point-lace, a fabric so different
in character, was not to have been expected. About the
year 1768, however, a frame-work knitter of Nottingham,
looking at the lace on his wife’s cap, thought he could fa¬
bricate a similar article by means of his stocking-frame.
He tried, and was, on the’first attempt, to a certain de¬
gree successful. In 1782 some advance was made in car¬
rying his invention farther; but the design was not finally
matured till 1809, when Mr Heathcote of Teverton suc¬
ceeded in bringing the machine to a perfect state, and
took a patent for the discovery. In 1815 steam power
began to be applied to the movement of the machine, but
did not come into extensive use until 1820. In 1823, on
the expiry of Mr Heathcote’s patent, the manufacture in¬
creased with extraordinary rapidity. The demand tor the
goods became immense; and the Nottingham lace-frame
was found, in 'the fabrication of plain nets, to rival the
most finished productions of France and the Netherlands.
It is proper however to observe, that without the previous
possession of the mule jenny, we could not have made
the acquisition of the cotton-lace manufacture. Had Mr
Crompton not given us the means of obtaining very fine
yarn, of the quality required for the delicate texture of
Hammond’s altered stocking-frame, the parent of the ma¬
chine upon which we now weave fabrics of such beauty
must have rested with his first rude conception, for want
of a material of sufficient fineness.
The manufacturers of lace by machinery during the
time the contest with hand-labour was still undecided,
reaped the same high profits which those who first em¬
ployed the spinning machinery obtained under like circum¬
stances. Indeed, tbe progress of machinery, and its ef¬
fect upon production, are nowhere more strikingly ex¬
emplified than in the history of the cotton-lace manu¬
facture.
Mr Heathcote’s frame, on its introduction, at once took
the place of the whole body of pillow-lace workers. After
his patent expired, and the trade was thrown open, the
eagerness to partake of the great profits produced a most Cot,
active competition, and new and improved machines were Man^
brought forward in rapid succession, each in its turn ren» tur
dering less profitable, and by degrees displacing, the one W
which had preceded it.
Again, when latterly the supply of the article came to
overtake the demand, and prices were greatly reduced,
the frames moved by power began to press hard upon
those worked by the hand; and the value of the hand,
machines, which, when they were first started, was as
high as L.1200, sank to L.60. There are now in the
course of being introduced into the manufacture, ma¬
chines possessing such power of production as must su-
persede the older ones entirely. _ ,, j
The number of lace frames was in September 1831
4501. Of these, 3501 were hand-machines; and seven
hundred of them were held by workmen, who bore the
twofold character of manufacturer and weaver, and to
whom every fall in the price of the goods resolved itself
into a fall of wages, leading to a reduction of the wages
paid in the trade generally.
These machines work up annually 1,600,000 pounds of
sea island cotton, which are spun into 1,000,000 pounds
of yarn, of the value of L.500,000, and give employment
to fifty-five spinning factories at Manchester, containing
860,000 spindles. It is calculated that 208,000 persons
receive wages for the labour performed in the different
processes of this manufacture; in spinning the yarn at
Manchester, weaving the goods in Nottinghamshire and
Leicestershire, and in the embroidery of them, executed
in different parts of the kingdom. The product is estimat¬
ed at 23,400,000 yards, and the value as it comes from
the frame is L.1,891,875. Of this whole production, about
four eighths are exported in an unembroidered state to
the Continent; about three eighths are sold unembroider¬
ed for home consumption ; and the remaining eighth is em¬
broidered in this country. The total value of the goods,
and of the work performed upon them in this country, has
been estimated at L.3,417,700. |
The trade is at present in a state of great depression,
occasioned partly by the decrease in the demand, the ar¬
ticle, from its cheapness, having become less an object of
fashion and desire, and partly by the constantly increasing
amount of production, from the improved machinery,
pressing on the market. A great extension of its sale,
however, is expected, when the markets ot the East come
to be more completely opened to us.
Mr Felton of Nottingham, to whose valuable little trea¬
tise on this branch of the cotton manufacture we are in¬
debted for the greater part of the facts we have given, says,
“ We can export a durable and elegant article in cotton
bobbin net, at fourpence per square yard, proper for cer¬
tain useful and ornamental purposes, as curtains, &c.; and
another article, used for many purposes in female dress, at
sixpence per square yard.”
Having now given a sketch of the progress of the cot¬
ton manufacture of this country, from its first introduction
to the present time (1832), we shall endeavour to give
some idea of its progressive increase, by tabular exhibi¬
tions of the quantity of cotton wool imported into Bri¬
tain at different periods.
From the year 1716 to 1720, the average annual im¬
portation of cotton was 2,173,287 pounds. W e have not
been able to obtain any account of the cotton importea
from that period to the year 1771; but the increase a
not been great; for the average annual importation trom
1771 to 1775, which commences two years after Har¬
greaves’ and Arkwright’s discoveries, and comprehen s two
years of the time after which calicoes began to be ma e
wholly of cotton, was only 4,764,589 pounds, dhe impor a
Coti
fern
tur
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
tion from 1776 to 1780 was 6,766,613 pounds ; from 1781 pounds ; from 1791 to 1795, 26 000 000 nounds •
> to 1785,10,941,934- pounds; from 1786 to 1790, 25,443,270 1796 to 1800, 37,364,077 pounds. ’ ?
The ta“eQ«!ve* the <«%• of ^ferent descriptions imported into Greet Britain annu¬
ally from 1802 to 1831 inclusive. The quantity is stated in packages, each package containing three hundred
pOUndS.  j  „
411
and from Cotton
IManufac-
ture.
American...
Brazil 
East India...
Other sorts.
Packages.
American..
Brazil 
East India-
Other sorts.,
Packages.
1802.
107,494
74,720
8,535
90,634
281,383
1810.
243,963
142,846
79,382
92,186
561,173
American...
Brazil 
East India.
Egyptian....
West India.
1803.
106,831
76,297
10,296
45,474
238,898
1804.
1805.
104,103
48,588
3,561
86,358
242,610
1811.
128,192
118,514
14,646
64,879
326,231
1818.
207,580
162,499
247,659
509,991
Packages   668,729
American..
Brazil 
East India..
Egyptian...
West India.
Packages.
1825.
423,446
193,942
60,484
11,023
31,988
820,883
1812.
95,331
98,704
2,607
64,563
261,205
1819.
205,161
125,415
184,259
31,300
546,135
1826.
395,852
55,590
64,699
47,621
18,188
581,950
124,279
51,242
1,983
75,116
252,620
1813.
37,720
137,168
1,629
73,219
249,536
1820.
302,395
180,086
57,923
31,247
571,651
1827.
646,776
120,111
73,738
22,450
30,988
894,063
1806.
124,939
51,034
7,787
77,978
261,738
1814.
43,853
150,930
13,048
74,800
287,631
1821.
300,070
121,085
30,095
40,428
491,678
1828.
444,390
167,362
84,855
32,889
20,056
749,552
1807.
171,267
18,981
11,409
81,010
282,667
1815.
208,051
91,055
22,357
52,840
369,303
1822.
329,906
143,505
19,263
40,770
533,444
1829.
463,076
159,536
80,489
24,739
18,867
746,707
1808.
37,267
50,442
12.512
67.512
168,138
1816.
166,077
123,450
30,670
49,235
369,432
1823.
452,538
144,611
38,393
5,623
27,632
668,797
1809.
159,980
140,927
35,764
103,511
440,382
1817.
199,669
114,518
120,202
44,872
479,261
1824.
282,371
143,310
50,852
38,022
25,537
540,092
1830.
1831.
618,527
191,468
35,019
14,750
11,721
871,487
608,887
168,288
76,764
38,124
11,304
903,367
The following table gives the extreme prices of cottonwool in Liverpool on the 31st December of each year from
1818 to 1831, showing the progressive reduction of the price of the raw material of the manufacture during that
period. * noqxs ai rtq odt luodfiw Jfiril .avistado of is
412
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
Cotton
Manufac¬
ture.
The following table gives the quantity of cotton yarn spun, and the quantities exported, and worked up at home from
the year 1818 to 1831.
Years. Yarn Produced. Exported
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824)
lbs.
98,911,800
98,566,200
108,238,500
116,126,100
130,943,700
138,731,400
148,656,600
lbs.
14,743,675
18,085,410
23,032,325
21,526,369
26,595,468
27,378,986
33,605,510
Consumed at
Home.
tbs.
84,168,125
80,480,790
85,206,175
95,599,731
104,348,232
111,352,414
115,051,090
Years.
Yarn Produced.
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
lbs.
150,147,900
135,191,700
177,480,000
196,074,000
197,280,000
222,840,000
236,430,000
Exported.
lbs.
32,641,604
42,179,521
43,346,632
43,242,882
60,562,189
63,678,116
61,561,154
Consumed at
Home.
lbs.
117,506,296
93,012,179
134,133,368
152,831,118
136,717,811
159,161,884
174,868,846
The following table gives the markets to which the cotton yarn spun from 1818 to 1831 was exported.
Years.
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
Russia and Ports
in the Baltic.
lbs.
5*913,691
3,779,544
9,060*052
4,815,114
4,948,619
7,148,497
12,304,373
9,369,333'
12,380,188
11,481,650
14,838,515
17,564,062
17,855,541
14,352,638
Germany, Bel¬
gium, and Holland.
France and Ports
in the Mediter¬
ranean.
lbs.
7,937,234
13,124,637
11,859,802
14,819,820
18,764,070
16,694,715
16,497,594
19,721,419
22,160,331
23,225,400
18,169,935
31,262,142
29,718,184
28,023,322
lbs.
876,957
I, 157,593
2,089,451
1,863,340
2,838,828
3,383,204
4,652,063
3,264,078
6,671,463
5,675,140
5,826,280
8,203,386
II, 485,195
10,792,384
Africa and North
and South Ame¬
rica.
lbs.
13,932
22,665
22,009
21,674
20,673
29,035
45,616
51,408
47,732
170,797
222,872
636,274
327,483
1,689,155
India and China.
lbs.
1,861
971
lf011
6,421
23,278
123,535
105,864
235,366
919,807
2,793,645
4,185,280
2,896,325
4,291,713
6,703,655
Totals.
lbs, OOiU i
14,743,675
18,085,410
23,032,325
21,526,369
26,595,468
27,378,986
33,605,510
32,641,604
42,179,521
43,346,632
43,242,882
60,562,189
63,678,116
61,561,154
The value of the present annual production of the cotton
manufacture of Great Britain is estimated at L.34,000,000
sterling, of which more than a half is the price of goods
and yarn made for exportation. The capital invested in
buildings and machinery is double what it was twenty
years ago, and the quantity of goods annually produced
much more than triple; yet, from the improvement of the
processes, and consequent diminution of the expense of
production, with the reduction which has taken place at the
same time in the price of the raw material, this more than
tripled quantity of the manufactured article does not re¬
present more capital than was represented by, and requir¬
ed for bringing to market, the lesser amount during the
preceding period. In the year 1812, when Mr Crompton
applied to parliament for a remuneration for his invention,
he found, by as accurate an investigation as he could
make, that the number of mule spindles in this country
was between four and five millions; and Mr Kennedy, in
his memoir of Mr Crompton, has stated that the number
in 1829 had increased to seven millions. It is now, in
1832, rated at eight millions. The quantity of cotton
yarn spun in 1832 is 222,000,000 pounds,, of which
132,000,000 pounds have been manufactured into cloth,
giving employment to 203,373 looms. The cotton manu¬
facture, in its different branches, is estimated to furnish
employment to 1,500,000 persons.
Before concluding our account of the cotton manufac¬
ture of this country, we must call the reader’s attention
to the peculiar circumstances which opened to this branch
of industry a course of such unprecedented success, an
having done so, we shall notice the effects produced by i
on the condition of the people, and on the general wealt
and prosperity of the nation.. . 4 ,
As the successive mechanical inventions which we nav
described came to be anplied to the manufacture, t ey
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
413
agnc
changed the principle of production, and made what till
then had been nearly wholly a product of labour, become
almost entirely a product of capital. Important results flow¬
ed from this change. It enabled Great Britain, the prin¬
cipal holder of these machines, to become the furnisher of
a commodity, which up to that time had been brought at
>a great expense from India. It further enabled her to re¬
duce its cost, and render what till then had been accessi¬
ble only to the rich, and of limited sale, an article of ge¬
neral wear. During the long struggle which took place
between machinery and hand-labour, this country conti¬
nued to be the nearly exclusive possessor of the machines
by which the reduction of cost was effected. Having in
consequence, in a great measure, a monopoly of the sup¬
ply, she was enabled to reap that harvest of prosperity
which so unusual a combination of circumstances was cal¬
culated to produce. An improvement in the condition of
every class of the community followed the advance of the
manufacture. The progressive extension of the use of
machinery, in place of lessening the demand for labour,
as was at first dreaded, had the effect of increasing it to
an extraordinary degree. There was a constantly growing
want of hands to be employed in aid of the new machi¬
nery, and in the new branches of manufacture to which
it gave birth. The wages of labour in consequence rose,
at first moderately, but afterwards extensively; and the
rise, having pervaded every description of employment,
not only gave the whole labouring class in this country a
command of the comforts of life, but brought within their
reach many little luxuries to which they were formerly
unaccustomed. The condition of the higher classes of
the community experienced a corresponding advance, the
population rapidly increased, and an enlarged consumption
of the products of the soil took place, in consequence of
the improved circumstances, as well as of the augmented
numbers, of the people. More grain, more butcher-meat,
were used; and an additional quantity of corn was requir¬
ed for the horses employed in the transport of commodi¬
ties, in the conveyance of passengers, and in the opera¬
tions of husbandry. All these causes gave a stimulus to
agriculture, and produced a change on that important branch
of industry, not less remarkable than that which was simul¬
taneously taking place in manufactures.
Previous to the year 1766, the industry, population, and
consumption of the country had been for a considerable
time stationary. We had, from the want of demand at
home, been enabled during the whole of the preceding
part of the century, to export grain annually to a large
amount. From 1766, however, we ceased to be exporters
of grain. The improvement of the circumstances of the
country had enlarged its power of consumption, which
from that time has been so steadily progressive, and so
great, that notwithstanding our having, by our improved
agriculture, augmented our products threefold, we not
only have never been able to bring our home supply to meet
our demand, but have been obliged to import largely every
year from other countries.
There can be no such satisfactory evidence of the im¬
proving condition of a people as a continued increase in
their power of consumption ; and the facts we have stated
afford proofs of a degree of comfort diffused for a length
of time over a great population, which we believe is un¬
exampled.
The influence on the commercial prosperity of the conn- Cotton
try has been scarcely less striking. In 1775 the tonnage Manufhc-
of British vessels cleared outwards was 783,226 tons, and
of foreign vessels 64,860 tons. In 1831 the tonnage of the
British had increased to 2,300,731, and of the foreign to^pf,0^
896,051 tons. 8 merLe’
Liverpool, the first commercial port of the empire, may
be called a creation of the cotton manufacture. Aiken, in
his History of Manchester, states the population of Liver¬
pool at the commencement of last century to have been
4240 persons, and the number of ships belonging to the
port in 1710 to have been 84; averaging something less
than 70 tons each ship. In 1766 six hundred and forty
six British vessels and fifty-four foreign vessels entered
the port of Liverpool, and seven hundred and eight Bri¬
tish and sixty-nine foreign vessels cleared out. In 1831
the population of Liverpool amounted to 165,175, and
8644 British vessels and 1078 foreign vessels entered the
port, and 7743 British and 1040 foreign vessels cleared
out.1
Since the commencement of the cotton manufacture^ on popuk-
the population of Lancashire, of Lanarkshire, and of Hen-don.
frewshire, the districts in which it is most extensively car¬
ried on, has increased threefold ; and the population of
Glasgow, which in the year 1763, immediately before the
commencement of the cotton manufacture, was 28,300,
has, as appears by the government census of 1831, in¬
creased to 202,426.
Such are the great results of the cotton manufacture,
and of the stimulus which its rapid increase has given to
the other branches of industry.
But having reached this high state of prosperity, it may Prospect of
be asked, what security have we that we shall be able to?ur retain-
maintain our pre-eminence in this manufacture, now tha£inS.ourl)re'
other countries, over which we possess no natural advan-f'11^^,6,
tage, are using ettorts to participate in its benefits ? nufacture.
To this it can only be answered, that the hopes of our
being able to preserve our vantage-ground, rest upon our
persevering industry, our economy, our great capital, the
advanced state of our machinery, our attainments in me¬
chanical knowledge, the benefit we derive from having
been long in possession of the business, and the better
acquaintance with the minutiae of its processes. The lead
we have thus taken we think it probable we may for a
long time be able to maintain ; for invention is progressive,
and in a manufacture extended like ours, every discovery
that is made has the effect to unfold principles leading to
other discoveries, or to suggest analogous applications in
other departments. Those who conduct the various pro¬
cesses of manufacture, and those employed in the opera¬
tive part of them, have all their thoughts constantly turn¬
ed to the means of enlarging the powers of the machines
they are in possession of, or to the discovery of others for
executing parts of the work still performed by the hand.
Besides the mere progress in machinery, there is a progress
also in the use of machinery, of contrivances to supply its
defects, and of little, undefinable, subsidiary aids, for the
furtherance of the work to be done, which contribute to
give a vast superiority to those who have been long habit¬
uated to the use of it.3
It is not, however, the rivalry of the European states we
have to dread in this branch. Over many of them we have
natural advantages; and with all of them, from the circum-
' In the number of British vessels which have entered and cleared out of the port of Liverpool, coasters are included.
2 AVhen the measures for conciliating the respective commercial interests of parties in the Irish Union were arranging, the opinion
of professional men was taken as to the period at which the cotton manufacture of Ireland might be able to go on in competition with
that of England without the help of protecting duties; and Mr William Orr of Dublin, who had introduced the manufacture into that
country, was asked if he thought it likely that in ten years the Irish manufacturers wduld overtake the English in skill—Mr Orr re¬
plied, “ Yes ! if the English can be persuaded during that time to stand still.”
414
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
ture.
tern.
Cotton stances which have been stated, it is probable we shall be
JVIanufac- able to maintain our ground. But perhaps this may not
be the case, to the same degree, in the competition which
we shall have to encounter with America, after her great
tracts of land are occupied, and a fuller population admits
of her capital and industry being profitably directed to
manufacturing pursuits. From being the grower ot the
raw material, she has an advantage over us in this con¬
test which none of our other competitors possess. But
even this circumstance, we apprehend, is not of so muc i
moment as may at first sight appear. . ...
The southern states of the Union, in which the cotton
wool is raised, from their local defects in other requisites,
and the description of people of which the lower order is
composed, never can become a manufacturing country.
The competition, therefore, which we shall have to main¬
tain, will be with the people of the northern states, who
must, like ourselves, import the raw material which they
are to manufacture. The difference of its cost to them
and to us cannot be great, particularly if we shall have
the East Indies and South America open for our supply.
Remarks We believe, then, that in this manufacture we have ht-
on the ex- tie to fear from competition; but we are not equally conh-
dusivesys-jent that its prosperity may not be exposed to risk from
our ill-judged anxiety to secure a monopoly of its advanta¬
ges. Our practice of excluding from our markets the ma-
nufactures of other: countries, is not only contrary to sound
political principle, but gives rise to a spirit of hostility un¬
favourable to our interests, and places us in such a state
that, when other nations in retaliation exclude oui manu¬
factures from their markets, we have no right to complain.
But even without any wish to retaliate, are not other na¬
tions too apt, as they advance in manufactures, to be led
to copy those regulations to which they erroneously as¬
cribe our success?
That we may not decide this question rashly, let us ex¬
amine what is the danger to which we should be exposed
if we were to take the opposite system, and open our ports
to the manufactures of other countries.
If we can now export annually to the value of about
20,000,000 sterling of cotton goods, which, burdened with
freight, charges, and the exporter’s profit, we are able to
sell in competition with foreign manufacture, can we have
any thing to fear from a competition with that manufac¬
ture in our home market, where the circumstances of the
competing parties would be reversed ? So far from the
introduction of foreign manufacture into our market being
an evil, we are inclined to think that it would be advan¬
tageous to our interests, and that in the interchange ot
various fabrics which would be the consequence, the sale
of our own manufactures would be increased. Commerce
being altogether a matter of barter, it is necessary for
every country to purchase in order that she may sell; and,
fortunately, even in the same branch of manufacture, there
is always room for such changes. There are shades of
difference in the fabric of every article, upon which taste,
or fashion, or caprice, never fails to fix an arbitrary value,
thereby constituting them into separate commodities ca¬
pable of being exchanged.
But the view we are taking of this important question
does not rest altogether upon theory. Happily we have
experience in support of it. No one disputes the advan¬
tage resulting from the interchange of commodities be¬
tween Lancashire and Lanarkshire, or alleges that it
would be for the benefit of either to have the manufac¬
ture of the other excluded from its market. Yet these
two districts have their dependence upon manufactures
which in their general features are the same.’
Those who recollect the commercial treaty with France,
in which some approach was made to a free trade between
the two countries, will remember, that while it lasted the C( ,
sale warehouses of London and Manchester were resorted CL
to by purchasers from the different towns of France, with U
the same freedom, and in nearly an equal proportion ofwV
numbers, as from the towns in England. And although
in those warehouses commodities of a similar description
of French and English production were to be found, and
our shopkeepers were at the same time daily resorting to
France to make purchases, in no period were our manu¬
factures in a state of greater progressive prosperity than
during the eight years, from 1786 to 1793, that this treaty
existed. Vi agahteo
There is no one, we believe, who had an opportunity of
knowing the two countries at the time we mention, who
will not say that both were benefited by this treaty, and
probably exactly in the degree that the exclusive system
in both had been departed from. ,nnfi
In addition to this, it may be proper to notice, that
Switzerland and Saxony have always been open to the
reception of cotton goods free of duty ; and that in none
of the countries on the Continent is the cotton manufac¬
ture in a more thriving state. Might it not, therefore, be
a measure of wisdom to withdraw our restrictions against
the importation of foreign manufactures, the interference of
which with our own products in the home market, suppos¬
ing no interchange of the two to take place, never could
be to the amount of the sale we may be deprived of by
following the opposite policy, and thus inducing the ex*
elusion of our own goods from the foreign market?
Fears have been expressed that the lower wages for
which, the labourers of other countries, our competitors in
the manufacture, can work, and upon which, from the
cheapness of their provisions, they can afford to live, may
ultimately enable them to take the manufacture out of our
hands. In reply to this, it may perhaps be sufficient to
recal to our readers the small part of the cost of the
commodity which now belongs to the labour of the hand,
and the daily diminution which is taking place even of
that part, by the introduction of new mechanical substi- 4
tutes. Ijessofifq eodct rbirfwin
As examples of the progressive transference of produc¬
tion by hand labour to machinery, we may refer to the
process employed for the production of cotton yarn before
1767, when each spindle required a person to work it; and 1
compare it with the present state of spinning, when one
man, with the aid of a few piecers to take up and join his
broken ends, can work a thousand spindles ; or we may re¬
fer to the circumstance, that in Lancashire in 1818 there
were not more than 2000 power-looms, and of these not
a half in employment; and that in 1832 the number had
increased to 80,000,—so extensive had been the change
during these fourteen years from hand-weaving to weav¬
ing by power. -ujen ow ,t^vewod r
In addition to the security thus afforded by the alter-Ad oral
ation in the mode of production, we possess, in our inex-®“ “
haustible stores of iron and coal, resources which more than^ ^
counterbalance any advantages arising to other countries
from the lower wages of their labourers. The unlimited
command of these elements of power, one of which is the
material of which machines are formed, and the other the
chief article used in giving them motion, has not only led
to extensive changes in the manufactures themselves, but
has produced a complete revolution on the coasting trade
of the country, and bids fair to give rise to an equally
extraordinary change in the mode of internal communi¬
cation. gidl lo noijulilani.flA .gt-dnw hns 4 r
Steam navigation has brought out the full benento
our insular position. It has brought Bristol, Liverpoo,
Dublin, Belfast, and Glasgow, into constant and intimate
relation; and the celerity and certainty belonging to tne
Cot !
Mao |,,>
tui
-O'7
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
415
Effect
she ex ■
iive us if
machir *
mthe
lition
ilieper5.
conveyance render this means of transport for our finer
commodities invaluable. A person in Glasgow receives
an order for goods to be shipped by the first vessel for
New York. There is no vessel to sail immediately from
the Clyde, but he knows that one of the packet ships from
Liverpool will sail for New York in four days from that
time. He puts his goods into the steam-boat from Glas¬
gow to Liverpool, and they are on board of the packet for
New York in three days after he had received the order.
The steam-boat enables the manufacturer of Glasgow to
employ the weavers of Belfast, at no greater expense of
carriage or time than he incurs in sending his yarn to be
woven in the upper part of his county.
The railroad, again, between Manchester and Liverpool,
with its steam conveyances, has not only reduced the cost
of carriage between these places, but has had the effect of
bringing almost together these two immense manufactur¬
ing and trading communities, overleaping, as it were, space
and time, in the rapidity of the communication. A manu¬
facturer in Manchester can leave his house in the morn¬
ing, purchase a supply of cotton at Liverpool, and have it
delivered at his work in Manchester the same day.
When the system of internal communication, therefore,
shall have been extended to the degree that may be an¬
ticipated, and the approximation of our populous manu¬
facturing and commercial districts shall by this means
have been effected, there will be gained a saving of time
and of capital, with a facility of combining on every occa¬
sion the powers of the whole manufacturing community
in the increase of production, which few of our competi¬
tors can look forward to possess, and which, with our other
advantages, are calculated to afford us assurance of the
continuance of our present pre-eminence.
It will be proper, in an account of the cotton manufac¬
ture, to offer a few observations upon the effect of the ex¬
tension of the use of machinery on the character and mo¬
ral condition of the people.
The more perfect division of labour and separation of
employment which takes place as the use of machinery ad¬
vances, and the consequent limitation of the worker’s at¬
tention to a single object, check the expansion of the fa¬
culties, and prevent that growth of intelligence in this
class, which under a more general employment of their
powers might be expected. Another evil of a similar na¬
ture, but attended perhaps with more serious consequen¬
ces, is produced by manufactures when they have arrived
at this state, namely, the employment of children in fac¬
tories, by which these young creatures are withdrawn
from their parents and homes before they have received
the elements of education, or can have acquired domestic
or moral habits.
In noticing these evils, however, we must recollect that
the state of manufacture which gives birth to them is not
an optional one, not the production of regulation or in¬
stitution, but has grown up in the progress of the arts of
industry, prosecuted by an intelligent people. Although,
therefore, it is our duty, in as far as we can, to correct
their effects, we must lay our account with being exposed
to them, so long as men are allowed to pursue their indi¬
vidual interest, by whatever fair means they conceive like¬
ly to accomplish their object.
To remedy in as far as possible the interruption to edu¬
cation, schools have been established in many of the fac¬
tories, in which the children are instructed gratis in read¬
ing and writing. An institution of this kind we consider
it to be the interest of the proprietor of every work to pro-
vide. The expense cannot be great, and will be amply
iepaid in the superior description of workers it will be the
means of rearing. In the mean time, something is done
to supply the deficiency of this provision by Sunday Cotton
schools, which have been generally established in most of Manufac.
the manufacturing towns. In these, the children are not ture-
only taught to read, but are also instructed in the princi- V-J*_
pies of religion, and in a knowledge of their moral duties.
In the year 1800, a course of lectures was given for the
first time in Glasgow', in the Andersonian Institution, to
the mechanics and working classes, with the view of af¬
fording them instruction in the science of their different
employments. In the supplement to the former edition
of this work in 1818, we thought it important to give an
account of these lectures, in order to call public attention
generally to the benefit which had been derived from
them ; but this account we think it unnecessary to repeat,
as the “ Mechanics’ Institutions,” which began soon after
to be formed in Glasgow and in Edinburgh on the prin¬
ciples of this course, have since spread into every quarter
of the kingdom. These establishments are calculated to
counteract in a great degree the effects which we have
noticed as arising from the minute division of employ¬
ment, and confinement of attention to one object, in great
manufactories.
So important does this species of instruction appear to
us in the circumstances of this country, wdiere so much
depends on our being able to keep the lead which we have
got in mechanical invention and discovery, that we think
it worthy of consideration in a national point of view, whe¬
ther, in the appointment of our parochial schoolmasters, it
might not be declared indispensable that they should be
qualified to teach the first principles of mechanics and
chemistry.
With the stores of the raw material of machinery winch
we possess, might we not, with a proper training of our
people, become machine-makers for all the nations who
are less favourably circumstanced ? The advantage of be¬
ing able to occupy such ground would be incalculable.
We shall now return to the history of the progress of
the cotton manufacture, from which our attention has been
somewhat diverted by our desire to trace the true sources
of its prosperity in Great Britain, and to arrive at a know¬
ledge of the policy to be pursued, to enable us to retain
our mercantile superiority.
In Ireland some attempts to introduce the manufacture Cotton
of cotton goods were made so early as 1770, but the ma-manufoc-
nufacture continued on a very limited scale until the yearture in
1790. After this period the progress was considerable,Iieland'
although far short of what took place during the same
time in this country; indeed its products have never been
such as to enter into competition with those of Britain,
or to become articles of general foreign sale. This proba¬
bly arises from the high price of fuel, rendering the concen¬
tration of the processes by means of the power of steam,
and the consequent saving in labour, in many situations im¬
possible.
The chief seat of this manufacture in Ireland is Belfast,
and the district of country situated within twenty miles of
that town. But there are a good many calicoes, fustians,
and cotton checks, made in Dublin, Balbriggan, Banden,
and Cork. All these goods are consigned to factors in
Dublin for sale, except a part of the calicoes, which the
manufacturers are sometimes enabled to dispose of to
printers on the spot.
In the article on the cotton manufacture in the Supple¬
ment to the former edition of this work, we mentioned
that there were then only twenty-five cotton mills in Ire¬
land, containing about 145,000 spindles, partly mule and
partly throstle; and that when all these were at work,
they were supposed to spin about 36,000 pounds of cot¬
ton weekly. From the most minute inquiry which we
416
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
Cotton have been able to make, we do not find that any advance
iVlanufac- in the manufacture has been made since then.
ture. Some of the spinners weave the whole of their yarn,
^hle others do not weave any; but in either case, the
weaving is carried on by capitalists, who give out the
yarn to be woven, and pay the weaver wages for his work.
The greater part of this business is carried on m the
same district with the linen manufacture, in which the
weaver is the sole manufacturer, buying the yarn tor his
web, and selling the cloth when he has finished it. 1 er-
haps the difference in the manner in which these manu¬
facturing processes are conducted, may proceed from the
different way in which the yarns made use of in the two
branches are produced. The yarn for the Unen manufac-
ture is spun by individuals scattered over the country.
This in the infancy of the business, and while little capi¬
tal had been accumulated, may have led to the manufac¬
turing process being carried on in a like detached manner ;
the weaver purchasing the yarn from his neighbour the
spinner, and, after converting it into cloth, selling the web
at'the nearest market to the merchant. The cotton manu-
facture in Ireland did not grow up thus from small begin-
nino-s, but was introduced into that country at once from
England, and with spinning establishments upon compa¬
ratively a large scale. It was in consequence necessary
that the weaving should from the first take off the pro¬
duce of those establishments; and there being no way
of effecting this with certainty, but by employing the
weavers upon wages to work up the yarn, the manufac¬
ture was begun, and has been prosecuted upon this plan
ever since, while the linen manufacture carried on m the
same district continues to be conducted upon the opposite
^ There are two power-loom mills in Ireland. One of
them is understood to be doing well, the other has on y
been partly filled with looms, and has been allowed to re¬
main in that state. „ .. . .
Large quantities of cotton yarn are sent from bn tain to
Ireland to be woven by the hand weavers in that country ;
and several Glasgow houses have agents at Belfast foi
giving out their yarns, to be woven in that neighbourhood,
and returned to them in cloth. The manufacture furnishes
in this case employment to English capital and Irish la-
The annual return of the cotton manufacture of Ii eland
is estimated at L.700,000.
Cotton The cotton manufacture was introduced into hranee
raanufac- about sixty-five years ago, and was first established at
ture of Arebonas, in the Yivarais; from whence it afterwards made
France. its way t0 Montpellier, in Lower Languedoc. For some
time after its introduction, the greater part of the yam
used in its fabrics was brought from the Levant, a small pai t
only, spun in the mountains of the Yivarais and the Ge-
vanvans, being produced in the country. The Turkey
red yarn required for coloured goods was either brought
from Adrianople and Smyrna in a dyed state, or the ma¬
nufacturers sent the yarn of their own spinning to these
places, by way of (Marseilles, to be dyed and returned to
them. But this circuitous mode of obtaining those yarns
did not continue long, for the manufacturers soon suc¬
ceeded in inducing some Greek dyers to settle in trance,
and the natives having acquired from them a knowledge
of these processes, the whole dyeing required for the
manufacture came in the course of twenty years to be
executed by Frenchmen. From these yarns, spun and
dyed in the‘ way we have stated, were produced at Mont¬
pellier, at Cholet in La Vendee, and in Bearn, large quan¬
tities of pocket handkerchiefs, and of cloths for garments
and for furniture. The manufacture of these articles,
and the art of dyeing, were established also at llouen, at
Amiens, and throughout the surrounding country, within Cott,
n.  ^r\r\ info tHP fimitn  
/VIIlIcIlSj ClIlU LIU vr ^ ^ o -to '-'Ottf
ten years after tlieir introduction into the south of France. Manu,
Before this period, there had been carried on at Rouen a
considerable manufacture of linen goods, similar to those
afterwards made of cotton. The cotton goods, however,
as was the case in England when first introduced, were
woven with linen warp and cotton weft, and it was not till
after Sir Richard Arkwright’s invention that the French
were able to make them wholly of cotton. With all this
activity in the introduction of the cotton manufacture, no
early attempts were made by the French to avail them¬
selves of the improvements which had been introduced
into the process of cotton spinning in England. Their
first spinning machine of a construction superior to the
one-thread wheel, was a mule which Monsieur de Calonne,
minister of France, introduced in the year 1787. This
was immediately copied, and these machines adopted
wherever the manufacture was carried on. The use of
them increased rapidly, particularly at Rouen, at Paris,
at Lille, at St Quentin, at Amiens, and at Montpellier.
About the same period the first attempt to spin water
twist was made at Louviers. Hostility to the introduction
of these improvements, similar to what had taken place in
England, was manifested by the common people in France.
But the disposition to disturbance was soon quelled, and
the evident advantage which the new mode of spinning
possessed over the old put an end in a short time to all
idea of opposition. .
It appears from official reports that the quantity of cot¬
ton wool used in the French manufacture was in the year
179g 18,000,000 pounds
1799  10,290,000
1800   6,726,000
1801  11,008,000
1802 15,120,000
1803  15,780,000
1804  17,200,000
1805 18,412,000
1806 21,734,000
The cotton imported in the year 1806 was manufactur¬
ed into the following articles. About 1,000,000 pounds
into velvets; about 925,000 pounds into nankeens, nanki-
nets, crapes, and other small stuffs; about 1,155,000 pounds
into dimities; about 14,880,000 pounds into fustians, cali¬
coes, coverlets, simoises, muslins, &c. &c.
In twenty-two of the departments in France in which
this manufacture was carried on, there were, in 1806,74o0
spinning mules, containing 800,724 spindles, and employ¬
ing- 28,460 persons, and there were in these departments
28,634 looms employed in weaving cotton fabrics, giving
occupation to 31,107 persons. The number of machines
and of people engaged in the manufacture in the other
parts of the country are not stated. , m
In the same year France imported (contraband) from
England 2,000,000 pieces of nankeen, 1,000,000 pieces of
cloth for printing, and about 300,000 pieces of ot iei e
scriptions of cotton goods, such as muslins, cambrics,
mities, &c., valued at L.3,000,000 sterling.
It was only in the large spinning works, of which up
the year 1817 there were very few in France, that the
power of water or of steam was employed, and, even
greater part of them, the application of P^er 'vas conn¬
ed to the machinery used in the preparation of t
Nearly the whole of this branch of the manufacture haa
till then been carried on with small systems °f PrePa™ ,
machinery moved by the power of horses, or y
turned by a man or men, and the spmmng pai >
either system, was almost wholly worked by e rac.
The weaving branch was partly parried on y ^
turers, but more generally by operative weavei s, w
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
Cott
[anu
tur<
-'Y
their own yarn, and disposed of the cloth, when woven, at
■ the weekly markets.1
The French manufacturers were in 1817 far behind the
English, in the important art of combining mechanical
power with manual dexterity, to effect an economy of la¬
bour and increase of production. They had been induced
to prosecute the manufacture upon the plan we have men¬
tioned, rather than erect establishments upon the extend¬
ed scale and of the comprehensive nature used in this
country, by the high interest they were obliged to pay for
money on the one hand, and the comparatively cheap
rate of labour on the other. The operation of these cir¬
cumstances led them to pursue this system, as seeming the
best calculated for producing the goods upon the cheapest
terms, and with the smallest advance of capital.
There is, however, no scarcity of falls of -water in
France for moving large machinery, although the greater
part of them are in situations either of scanty population
or of difficult access, and are inconvenient for receiving
the raw material, or disposing of the manufactured pro¬
duct. Many of the falls, too, are appropriated, to mills or
mines, and are not to be bought but at an expense which
the benefit to be derived from them seems not likely to
repay.
The original location of the different fabrics of the ma¬
nufacture depended on the circumstances in each situation
favourable for the production of the article to which the
inhabitants betook themselves; these circumstances re¬
maining the same, the distribution of the different branches
still continues with little change. In Paris there is a good
deal of spinning, and they manufacture there the best ca¬
licoes and the finest cotton hosiery produced in France.
The manufacturers of Paris have also a number of people
employed in spinning and weaving at Versailles, Essennes,
Melun, Senlis, Iloyaumont, Liancourt, Chantilly, Gisors,
Carlepont, &c.
The cotton manufacture is, however, established on a
more extensive scale in Rouen than in any other town
in France; and it is not confined to the city, for Nor¬
mandy is peopled with cotton weavers, who carry on the
business in their own houses, and send the goods they
make to the hall at Rouen for sale. The manufacturers
of Rouen have also many workmen employed in the neigh¬
bourhood of St Quentin and Cambray, where their finest
cloths are woven. The articles produced in Rouen, and
in these dependent districts, are calicoes coarse and fine,
and they are made to a great amount; velvets also in
u^iUant^^ ’ coloured cotton goods of all descriptions;
which last, the Normans, from their superior knowledge
in the art of dyeing, execute well.
^ '^tn*.ens.’ an(^ ^le neigfibourhood, there is a great
deal of spinning done, partly for hosiery, but chiefly for
velvets, of which a large quantity is made in this district.
1 he cotton manufacture has in a great measure supplant¬
ed the woollen manufacture formerly carried on there.
At Iioyes they manufacture dimities, fustians, swan¬
skins, and different strong stuffs for furniture and linings.
T here is also a considerable manufacture of low-priced
hosiery.
At St Quentin, although the spinning is considerable,
it does not supply above a fifth of the yarn used in the
surrounding district, in which there are, it is said, 12,000
weavers. These are employed upon different qualities of
calicoes, upon cambrics for printing, upon dimities, and
upon fancy goods, both white and coloured. There is no
weaving done in the town. In the linen manufacture for¬
merly carried on there 15,000 weavers were at one time
employed in making linens, thread, gauzes, and cambrics ;
these are now reduced to about 2000.
At larrare they make the finest book muslins ; but the
yarn they use is all smuggled from England.
In the ci-devant province of Beaujolois they produce
calicoes, low-priced dimities, and stuffs for linings.
At Nismes the people formerly were wholly employed
upon articles of silk ; but they now manufacture very fine
cotton stockings, and fancy goods of different descriptions,
woven with silk warp and cotton weft.
At Lyons they make fancy articles in cotton, of superior
taste and beauty, as they boast, to any thing of the kind
ever exhibited before; but they admit that the price of
the goods is very high.
The manufacture of Montpellier is now entirely con¬
fined to what are called Madras handkerchiefs, made in
imitation of those of India.
The manufacture carried on in Cholet, Laval, and the
surrounding country, was formerly wholly of linen. They
now make calicoes, coloured cotton handkerchiefs in great
quantities, and coloured handkerchiefs of cotton and linen.
They have no spinning in this district.
The calico printers of Alsace formerly drew their whole
supplies of cloth from Paris, Rouen, and St Quentin ; but
having been enabled to establish spinning works, with the
417
Cotton
Manufac¬
ture.
a,great Pai!t .of this account of the cotton manufacture of France in the year 1806, we are indebted to the late Count
the SUbjeCt “ Ul7' "“h «»>* -companies talent,
it nw _ ..... , . “ Amloise, Ic 18 Juin 1817.
u \ est avec phnsir que je vats vous transmettre les renseignements que vous me demandez.
. ‘ ^es manufactures de coton ont dtd introduites en France il y a peu pres 50 ans; la premiere fabrique a e'te formde h Arebonas
flans ie Vivarais; de la cette fabrication a passe a Montpellier, dans ie Eas Languedoc. On tiroit une grande partie du coton fild du
nevant, et on faloit le reste au rouet ou a la main dans les montagnes du Vivarais et du Gevanvans.
des ^SSS^feaeSe.^ ^ ^ ^ d’AdrianoPle et de Smyme; on y envoyoit meme par Marseille
“SfrS annC‘e,S °!1 a a.ttir.e/ dans le Pa-vs des teinturiers Grdcs, qui, peu aprds, ont fait connaitre leurs procedds, et depuis
ou ans n n y a que de r rancais qui teignent. 1 1
mmdl'ir/a' c°t0.ns’ °n. Lbriquoit a Montpellier, a Cholet dans la Vendee, et dans le Bearn, des'tissus pour habillement, meubles,
raoucnoirs, dont il se faisoit un grand commerce. ’ ’
“Lafabrication de ces tissus, et 1’art de la tein
ipiils existoient dans le midi de la France.
teinture, ont ete dtablis a liouen, a Amiens, et dans tous les environs, 10 ans apres
tontiuKS6: Monsieur de Calonne, a introduce premier metier pour filer le coton, il y a 30 ans. Depuis cette epoque, et sur-
tin SGLv f&Xff mechaniques se sont propagdes sur tous les points de la fabrique, surtout h Rouen, a Paris, a Lille, k St Quen-
’ ‘ , !"Sl a Montpellier. Elies sont si nombreuses, que d’apres un calcul exact, elles peuvent filer 30,000,000 de livres pesant
^ ^ Elies sont muds par des cours d’eau, par des chevaux, ou par des machines a vapeurs.
tissiR nnv ^ dans les villes, et dans les campagnes. Il y a beaucoup de tisserands qui achetent leur fils, et vendent leurs
“ On f i •arChtS °T Se vendent les fils* My a des entrepreneurs qui donnent le fil et font tisser d savair.
le , a!iCe j0uti>S sortes de tissus de coton. A Tarrare, et dans les montagnes voisines, on fait des mousselines qui ne
ils v tZJlf a P,.US belleS desTIndes- Nos miprimeurs sur toile n’employent que les calicos et les percales fabriquds chez nous, et
francs anil / a.™ntage- Le commerce des tissus de coton fabriquds chez nous est annuellement de deux a trois cent millions de
, sur xesqueis il y a les quatre cinquiemes de main d’ceuvre. J ’ai I’honneur de vous saluer, Le Comte Chaptai..”
VUL. VII* 0
3 G
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
assistance of a few Swiss emigrant workmen, who instruct¬
ed the Alsacians, they introduced into their country the
cotton manufacture, and' not only supply the goods re¬
quired for their own printing, but have a surplus to dis¬
pose of fcf’the consumption of others,
Lille, Tourcoing, and Roubaix, with the surrounding
country, form a spinning and manufacturing c istnc
Lille and Tourcoing spin not only for their own consump¬
tion, but are able to furnish a great deal of yarn for the
weaving carried on in the neighbourhood. ihe yai"
duced in Roubaix, on the contrary, does not suffieefor its
own demands. The goods manufactured m ^n^trict
are printaniers, thicksets, crapes, and nankinets. f ormer
ly its weavers were employed on woollen but this
branch is now entirely given up. At Cambiay the wea
ing is considerable, but it is almost wholly carried on for
the manufacturers of St Quentin and Rouen.
The only articles of cotton manufacture in which the
French compete with England are their dyed goods and
their sewed muslins. The colours of the former are bright
and durable, and the embroidery on their muslins is de¬
signed with taste, and well executed.
From 1817 to 1827 the manufacture has continued to
go on prosperously. Spinning works upon the same prin¬
ciples as those in England, in which the preparation and
spinning processes are carried on together, have been es¬
tablished in all the manufacturing districts; and the use
of hand-mules is abandoned in every part of trance.
In 1814, on the restoration of the Bourbons to the
throne, the ministry which then came into power, enter'
taining the idea that the prosperity of a nation depended
on its being able to produce every thing required for its
own consumption, took measures for protecting the rrenc i
home manufactures, by preventing all competition from
abroad; and, without regard to the natural advantages or
disadvantages which the country possessed for carrying
on any particular branch of industry, thought only of
making France a great manufacturing nation, and the
fabricator of every commodity.
In the year 1827, reports were submitted to govern¬
ment by the different chambers of commerce and manu¬
facturing bodies in France, on the causes of the distress
which was then generally felt. In these reports it was
stated, that the protection which had been afforded to the
home manufactures, by shutting out all competition, had
produced two results,—the refusal of other countnes to
receive the manufactures of France,—and a premature
and in many cases an unsound growth of the protected
manufacture at home. The consequence of fostering
branches of industry in this manner, where there are no
natural or local advantages for carrying them on, is not
experienced so long as the demand for the home consump¬
tion of the article keeps the lead of the supply. This was
the case for a length of time with the cotton manufacture
of France, and the prosperity which it exhibited seemed
to justify the minister’s measures, and his confidence in
the beneficial operation of his system. But in the year
Bales 
1822.
215,199
1823.
172,312
1824.
243,958
1825.
216,460
1826.
281,001
1827.
279,693
1828.
239,723
1829.
264,760
1830.
254,000
1831.
243,168
The people of free countries apply themselves more
early to the pursuits of industry than those who live un¬
der despotic governments, probably from the conviction
that what their labour produces will be secured to them
for their enjoyment. The 8wiss boast that they manufac¬
tured muslins before the beginning of the last century. If
1827, it was found that the quantity of cotton goods which Cot
the manufacture had by that time become enabled to Mat^.
supply, was more than the home market could takeoff; tuj
and their cost was too high to allow of their being pro- '•m
fitably disposed of in the markets abroad. The parties
who were engaged in the business found themselves thus
involved in difficulty and distress, and this continued to
the end of 1831, when, the low price to which the goods
had been reduced having had the effect of increasing the
home consumption, and even of causing an exportation of
the surplus stock to the amount of 54,806,000 francs, of
which 37,091,000 were for printed cottons, most of the
factories were again set to work, and the crisis was con¬
sidered to be over for the present. ’
The manufacturers, in their report, state the high cost
of their machinery, and of fuel, as among the principal
causes of the distress, and in proof of this give a state¬
ment of the comparative expense of erecting and main-
taining a spinning mill in France and in England, wrought
by a steam-engine of thirty horse power. They calculate
the cost in France at 500,000 francs, in England at 325,000
francs ; and the yearly maintenance of the establishment,
including fuel in France, at 98,300 francs, and in England
at 51,000 francs. The charge in spinning a kilogram of
yarn they thus ascertain to be in the one case seventy-six
cents, and in the other thirty-two. M. Martin, an iron
founder at Rouen, on being asked by the committee to
what he attributed the high price of their machinery, when
compared with its price in England, replied, “ A ce, que
le combustible, et tout le materiel de la fabrication, est
trois fois plus cher en France qu’en Angleterre.” Of 393
blast-furnaces at work in 1829 in h ranee, only fourteen
were worked with coal; and wood, which constitutes the
fuel of the greater part of France, had risen in conse¬
quence to three times its former price. ni
The dearness of fuel operates no less disadvantageous^
in preventing the hrench from availing themselves fully
of the powers of the steam-engine, applied by us in eco¬
nomising the cost of almost every process of the manu¬
facture, and in cheapening the commodity to the con¬
sumer, by the rapid and-less expensive transportation of
the raw material to the place of manufacture* and of the
finished product to the place of sale.
Attempts have been made in France to introduce the
power loom ; but the cost of fuel and machinery, added to
the low price of hand weaving, have formed insurmount¬
able obstacles to the extension of this mode of production.
There are not now more than 3000 power-looms at work
in France. ^
A manufacturing establishment at Rouen has recently
obtained a patent for making cotton canvass for shipping,
which is understood to be impermeable, and in that case
the objection which has hitherto circumscribed the em¬
ployment of this article will be removed. _
The following statement of the importation ot cot on
wool into France from 1822 to 1831 inclusive, will show the
amount of the manufacture during that period.
this is correct, these goods certainly
fitted to compete with the India muslins, with which tn
markets of Europe continued to be supplied until tne u-
vention of the mule-jenny enabled the British musin
The cotton manufacture of Switzerland, whatever may
anu F
tan
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
419
Iton i1
factui
Switz
id.
have been the date of its commencement, was. not at an
early period of much amount. It was even many years
after Sir Richard Arkwright’s improvements before it be-
<ran to make any considerable advance. The Swiss had no
spinning by machinery before the year 1798, at which
time their first mill was erected at St Gall. Until that
period all their yarn was spun upon the one-thread wheel,
and even in 1817 about a tenth part of it was produced in
this manner.
A considerable proportion of their machinery up to the
year 1818 was worked in small systems scattered over the
country, as we have stated to have been the case in France
at that time. In the manufacture of the goods, the weaver
provided himself with the yarn, and sold the cloth at the
nearest weekly market, or exchanged it for a new supply
of yarn. There were, however, some manufacturing capi¬
talists who employed a number of weavers, furnishing them
with materials for the cloth, and paying them wages. But
only a small part of the manufacture was carried on in
this way.
Although the manner in which the Swiss conducted the
business at this time was not so well calculated for pro¬
ducing quantity, or bringing the article cheap to market,
as the mode pursued by us, it left to the mechanic a
higher moral rank and character, and a greater possibility
of worldly enjoyment, than belongs to the working people
of our more systematised establishments. Under the one,
the workman appears to exercise independent labour, and
his employment seems to be subservient to his own use
and benefit. In the other, we see him only as an accessory
to some piece of machinery for supplying the elements of
commerce ; and, losing sight of the object of man's labour,
the extension of his comforts and enjoyments, we are led
to consider a nation as a great manufacturing concern,
and increase of production as what is to be desired, at
whatever expense of individual privation it may be ob¬
tained.
The cotton manufacture of Switzerland, unprotected
against foreign competition in the home market, and ex¬
cluded from the markets of France, Austria, and Pied¬
mont, continued nevertheless steadily and uniformly to ad¬
vance, furnishing a striking proof of the safety andadvantage
office trade. Its progress since 1818 has been great. Ad¬
ditional spinning works have continued yearly to be esta¬
blished in the different cantons, at Winterthur and its
neighbourhood, in the town and canton of Zurich, in the
cantons of St Gall and Appenzell, of Argovia, of Thurin¬
gia, of Geneva, and at St Blaye near Basle.
At the present time, all the water power to be obtained
without much expense, and situated in populous parts of
the country, has been fully occupied. In some places, such
as Zurich, it has been bought at as high a price as L.200
for each horse power.
The quantity of cotton manufactured in Switzerland in
1832 is 56,000 bales, and the expense of bringing the
raw material there is Id. per lb. on that brought from
Trieste, and l^d. on that from Havre,
Ihere are at present (1832) above 9000 persons em¬
ployed in the spinning processes, and the whole number of
workers in the different branches of the manufacture, in¬
cluding those engaged in the dyeing and printing, exceeds
28,000. The wages paid in the spinning works are as fol¬
lows : To carders (all men) 5s. per week; to drawers and
slabbers (girls) 3s. per week; to stretchers (men) from 4s.
to 6s. per week; to spinners from 8s. to 10s. per week.
The working hours are generally fourteen hours per day,
and eighty hours per week may be taken as the average.
tented and happy. Power-looms have been tried, but the Cotton
low wages of hand weaving, and scarcity of water power Manul'ac-
for moving the machinery, have prevented their coming ture.
into use.
The goods manufactured are nearly of the same descrip¬
tion as those made in Britain. The canton of Appenzell
produces fine plain muslins and the finest embroideries.
I he canton of 8t Gall, muslins, coloured pocket handker¬
chiefs, cottonets, and the finest cotton cloths. The can¬
ton of Zurich, on both banks of the lake, produces about a
thousand pieces of calico weekly. The cantons of Thur-
govia and Argovia produce mostly coloured goods; and
in these and the cantons of Zurich andGlaris the printing
of cotton cloths is carried on to a considerable extent.
Switzerland has been an exporting country for many
years; and the Swiss goods, particularly fine tweels, and
the better description of prints, have successfully com¬
peted with similar British goods in the Mediterranean
markets, and latterly in South America. Foreign yarns,
cloth, &c. are admitted into Switzerland free of duty.
Before 1822, all the numbers of water and mule twist,
and manufactured articles of every description, were sent
from this country to Switzerland. Now, fustians only are
sent to that market, and hardly any yarn below No. 60.
Indeed, so fast are the Swiss advancing in spinning, that
they expect to be able immediately to supply themselves
with all the yarns they use under No. 120.
Ihe cotton manufacture is prosecuted to a considerable Austria,
extent in different parts of Germany. In Austria it is car¬
ried on principally around Vienna, in the neighbourhood
of which city there are a number of large spinning works,
all of them moved by water. They do not spin higher
numbers than No. 60. All the fine yarn they manufacture,
and even a very considerable part of the coarse, is smug¬
gled from this country. The importation of yarn under
No. 60 is prohibited, but all higher numbers are admitted
on paying a considerable duty. To facilitate the contra¬
band introduction of these yarns, small spinning works
have been established at Iteichenberg, and other places
upon the Bohemian frontier. The owners of these mills
bring English yarns from Elberfeldt or Manchester, make
up the bundles anew, and sell the twist as Austrian. The
business of spinning and manufacturing are carried on se¬
parately.
In Vienna and the surrounding country there are above
10,000 weavers employed. The weaving is also very con¬
siderable at Prague, Kuttenberg, Lettowitz, and Ebresch-
dorf, and is spread through Bohemia and Moravia. It is
also carried on extensively at Gratz in Styria. Of late
years a few works have been established in the Tyrol, in
consequence of the abundance of water power, the low
rate of wages, and the heavy duties on the importation of
yarn. The cotton goods manufactured in the Austrian do¬
minions are of a stout fabric, and well executed. Nan¬
keens form a principal article.
Austria, under her present form of government, cannot,
we apprehend, be made a great manufacturing country.
Commerce does not spring vigorously under the uncer¬
tainty which belongs to despotic rule, and, if successful,
the diffusion of wealth, which is its consequence, produces
a spirit incompatible with the exercise of arbitrary power.
Supposing, therefore, the manufactures of Austria, by fac¬
titious encouragement, brought to supply a part of her own
consumption, she cannot continue to advance in these pur¬
suits, without involving a change of her political institu¬
tions.
rj,, - *  r—   -v — — — s— In Saxony, the cotton manufacture, although perhaps Saxony.
e weavers earn from 4s. to 4s. 6d. per week, and are ^iot of greater amount than in Austria, is more generally
Pai ^ Per piece for calicoes. The workers in the differ* diffused over the country, and exists under circumstances
ent departments are considered to be well off, and are con- which offer a greater probability of future advance. The
♦
# ■
420
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
Cotton habits and moral condition of the Saxon people are favour-
Manufac- able to the successful prosecution of manufactures, they
ture. are sober, industrious, well educated, and frugal. 1 he ad¬
ministration of their government is liberal, and their rujers
do not capriciously interfere with private pursuits. I hey
have been long trained to manufacturing habits, having
very early had an extensive linen business; and in oruen
to introduce the cotton manufacture, nothing more was
necessary than to transfer to the latter a part of the in¬
dustry which had been employed in the form^r-
In 1799, after many unsuccessful attempts, Messrs Bar¬
nard and Brothers, with the aid of an English mechanic,
erected at Chemnitz the first work which was established
for spinning cotton in Saxony. Their example was quic -
ly followed by others ; but from the imperfect knowledge
which the Saxons then possessed of the mode of erecting
these works, and from the reduction of the prohts of spin¬
ning, which took place in consequence of the incieased
competition upon the Continent and in Eng-land, these
undertakings proved unsuccessful. Those who engaged
in them became loaded with large stocks of unsaleable
yarn, which they were not able to get quit of, until the
blockade of the Elbe in 1804, and the subsequent occupa¬
tion of Hanover by the French, which excluded for a time
the competition of England.
The Berlin decree in 1806, and the enforcement of Bo¬
naparte’s continental system, gave great vigour to the
spinning trade in Germany. By the year 1808, the Ger¬
man spinners had more than indemnified themselves for
the loss which they had previously sustained; and they
continued to prosper and to extend their business, till the
success of the allies in the year 1813 put an end to the
French yoke, and opened the country to the competition
of foreigners. .
Their machinery, however, had been greatly improved
during this period; and the price of labour in Saxony be¬
ing uniformly low, the Saxons allege that they would have
been able to compete successfully with us, had it not
been for our greater capital, and the advantage which our
geographical situation gave us in the purchase of the ran
material. Since 1818, the manufactures of Saxony have
continued yearly to advance.
They spin mule yarn of a low quality from Smyrna cotton
of numbers from No. 16 to No. 40, which they weave into
thicksets, cotton velvets, and coloured pocket handkerchiefs.
They spin likewise a second quality of mule yarn, of num¬
bers from No. 36 to No. 54, from bowed or New Orleans
cotton, mixed with Pernambuco or Smyrna cotton, ac¬
cording as they wish the quality to be better or worse.
This yarn, which they work into cloths for garments, is
unequal in the thread, but is preferred by the Saxon wea¬
vers to the English second quality of mule yarn, the cloth
produced from it having, they think, more body. They
import, however, a considerable quantity of the second
quality of yarn from England. There is very little mule
yarn of the first quality spun in Saxony. All the finer
yarns, and nearly the whole of the water twist required
in their manufacture, are imported from England. The
yarn, whether spun at home or imported, is sold to the
weavers, who are scattered over the country, and by them
is converted into cloth, and disposed of at the weekly
market of the nearest town.
The cotton .manufacture of Prussia and the Rhenish
provinces is rapidly increasing, not only in the weaving
of British yarns, but in spinning for themselves. Works
for this end are daily established. The use of the hand-
mule is now confined to Gladbach, Rhegdt, and Kussen,
(left bank of the Rhine), where a few mules are retained
for spinning yarns from No. 8 to No. 12. I he number of
persons now employed in spinning by power, including
Prussia.
children, js estimated at from six to seven thousand. They cc
work fifteen, or even sixteen hours a day. Water power May ,
is scarce, and steam-engines have lately been obtained, f
both from England and from Charenton. Wages in the
Rhenish provinces are high ; power-looms have, in conse¬
quence, been introduced, anti their number is daily in.
creasing. The cotton worked up in 1830 exceeded
35,000 bales.
The great manufacture of Prussia, however, and one
which is growing yearly, is the weaving and dyeing of
British yarns, supplied chiefly through Elberfeldt. Some
of these goods have even been sent back to England for
shipment to the East Indies. The quantity of English
yarn imported into Prussia in 1831 to be thus manufac¬
tured, was 15,600,000 pounds.
Attempts have been made to introduce the cotton ma-Rus
nufacture into Russia. A spinning work was erected at
St Petersburg more than twenty years ago; but being a
royal work, it is carried on at great expense. There has,
we believe, been one other mill built since in Russia; but
the whole cotton spun in these works and on the distaff, j
the only other mode of spinning they possess, is under
3000 bales. Russia is becoming, however, yearly a better
customer for British yarns. The quantity sent to that
market in 1832 exceeded 19,000,000 pounds.
Weaving is carried on in Moscow and its neighbour¬
hood, and°latterly along that line of country stretching
towards the Caspian Sea, particularly about Sarepta, where
a colony of Moravians is established. The goods produced
are used chiefly for the garments of the peasantry.
There are eleven spinning factories in Lombardy; but Lea k
some of them are mere cloaks for facilitating smuggling.
The hand-mules are fast disappearing; a few only remain-
ing in the neighbourhood of Como and the Lago Maggiore.
The mills work twelve hours per day. About 12,000
bales of cotton are used annually in the manufacture.
The wages are lower than in Switzerland; but a good
spinner can earn eight shillings per week, while a good
labourer gets scarcely five.
An enterprising manufacturer attempted to establish
power-loom weaving near IMilan; but the want of mecha¬
nical skill occasioned a complete failure, and his work is
now standing still.
A great deal of British yarn finds its way into the
country, and is manufactured into stockings and other ar¬
ticles. Their own yarns are woven into heavy tweels(fus-
ta^ne), and common cotton cloth. All other descriptions j
of°cotton goods are imported at a heavy duty, or smug¬
gled, from Switzerland, England, and France.
Notwithstanding the encouragement given by the ried- 1 j1
montese government to the introduction of the cotton ma¬
nufacture into that country, it is as yet of very limited
extent. There are a considerable number of hand-mules,
but only four spinning mills. There is a good deal ol
weaving done, particularly of mixed linen and cotton goods.
The wages are lower than in Switzerland. ^
Cotton wool grows in the Neapolitan dominions, andiNa*
water power for the movement of machineiy a oun s,
yet the cotton manufacture, although protected by heavy
import duties, is chiefly confined to the weaving o oreign
yarns. Of these, upwards of 2,000,000 pounds are work¬
ed up annually. Within these few years spinning mills
have begun to be introduced, and five spinning w
have been established. The rate of wages paid at one o
these (at Salerno), said to be a very profitable concern,
matter of interest: carders, 4s. to 4s. 6d. per wee ,
vers and drawers, 3s. 2d.; and spinners, 6s. .. t
earn from 2s. to 2s. 6d. per week. W ith these ai
cheap production, there can be little doubt that, i o
vernment of Naples had been in a state to ensuie
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
pitalist the enjoyment of the fruits of his undertaking, the
country ought to have been able to supply at least the
cotton goods required for its own consumption.
The government of the United States has evinced great
anxiety to promote the establishment of the cotton manu¬
facture in the northern part of the union, but without con¬
sidering that manufactures are only valuable to a country
in so far as by their means the people can be supplied with
the article cheaper than they are able to procure it else¬
where. When a manufacturer requires the support of boun¬
ties, or of laws prohibiting the importation of similar ar¬
ticles, it is a cbnsumption of the national wealth to foster
a branch of industry incapable of maintaining itself. There
is no greater error in policy than this; and yet we see it
every day committed by young nations, wdien they endea¬
vour to force manufactures, before the circumstances of
the country admit of such undertakings; and by old na¬
tions, when they persist in the manufacture of articles
which, from natural disadvantages, they cannot produce at
so low a price as that at which they might purchase them
from others.
A manufacture, to attain a permanently profitable esta¬
blishment in a country, must grow up in it naturally. It
must to a certain degree be indigenous, or there must ex¬
ist circumstances affording special advantages and facili¬
ties for carrying it on. Manufacture may indeed be forced,
in the same manner that grain may be made to grow on
soils ungenial to its culture; but in both cases the appli¬
cation of capital will be unprofitable. Where industry is
left to follow its natural course, every country will betake
itself to the production of those articles which circum¬
stances enable it most advantageously to supply; and the
consumers, in consequence, will be furnished with the
articles they require at the lowest possible cost. Every
man’s means of consumption will, to the degree in which
the cost is reduced, be enlarged, and his command of the
comforts and enjoyments of life be extended.
The favourite system of a country supplying every
thing within itself, is alike adverse to individual advan¬
tage and to the increase of national riches. A division
of employment among nations, founded upon existing
local or accidental circumstances, is as much in unison
with the principles of sound political science, and as much
calculated to promote the general benefit, as is the divi¬
sion of labour and of employments among individuals. It
is not by manufacturing every thing it consumes that a
nation becomes rich, but by its people being profitably
employed.
If these principles be just, it must be a misapplication
of American capital and industry, to withdraw them from
the cultivation of the soil and the circulation of its pro¬
ducts,—undertakings found to be highly profitable, and of
boundless extent,—and to force them into manufactures
supported by monopolies and bounties.
There cannot be a doubt, that sooner or later the
American legislators will be compelled to relinquish the
system they are pursuing. Even were they to conti¬
nue to shut their eyes to its injurious operation, they
would find it impracticable, in a community composed of
federated states, with different local interests, to prosecute
branches of industry which require to be protected against
foreign competition. A federal compact, like a mercantile
copartnery of individuals, presumes a perfect equality and Cotton
community of interests among all the parties concerned; Manufac-
and, as in the case of a mercantile company, if any attempt ture.
weie made to render the interests of certain of the part-
nets subservient to those of the others, the concern would
be immediately broken up, we may presume that, under
like circumstances, the result will be similar with the fede¬
ral compact of the United States. It would not be in the
ordinary course of human affairs were the people of the
southern states to continue to purchase articles required
for their consumption at an advanced price, merely for the
purpose of enabling the people of the northern states to
manufacture them. Free trade then, we conceive, must
accompany federated communities, wherever they are es¬
tablished ; and we hail with satisfaction the prospect now
opening of the attainment of this object in the western
world, in every quarter of which the people appear to be
resolving themselves into federal governments. The be¬
nefits of unrestricted intercourse between man and man,
and between nation and nation, likely to be exhibited by
these countries on so extended a scale, will open men’s
eyes everywhere to its advantages; and the period, we
think, is not distant, when we shall look back with asto¬
nishment upon the wars we have carried on, the blood and
treasure we have wasted, and the heavy burdens with
which we have saddled ourselves, to acquire or retain colo¬
nial or commercial monopolies.1
In the account we are to give of the rise of the Ameri¬
can cotton manufacture, we shall chiefly refer to the pub¬
lic documents, in which its growth is studiously detailed,
and the difficulties it has had to struggle with anxiouslv
dwelt upon.
Before the year 1791, America possessed no manufac¬
ture except for domestic production and family use. But
in that year a cotton mill was erected in the state of
Rhode Island, as appears from a report of the secretary
to the American treasury, drawn up in 1810.
This report further informs us, that another mill was
erected in the same state in 1795, and two more in the
state of Massachusetts in 1803 and 1804; that during the
three succeeding years ten more were erected in Rhode
Island, and one in Connecticut, making together fifteen
mills, working about 8000 spindles, and producing about
300,000 pounds of yarn a year; that by a return which
was made at the date of the report, eighty-seven additional
mills had been erected in the end of the year 1809, sixty-
two of which (forty-eight water and fourteen house mills)
were then in operation, and worked 31,000 spindles ; and
that the other twenty-five mills were expected to be in
operation in the course of the year 1810, and, together
with the former ones (all of which are increasing their ma¬
chinery), would, by the estimate received, work more than
80,000 spindles at the commencement of the year 1811.
I he capital required to carry on the manufacture on the
best terms is estimated at the rate of a hundred dollars
per spindle; but it is believed that not more than at the
rate of sixty dollars is generally employed. Each spindle
produces annually about thirty-six pounds of yarn from
forty-five pounds of cotton, and the value of the yarn
may be averaged as worth one dollar twelve and a half
cents per pound. Eight hundred spindles employ forty
persons, viz. five men and thirty-five women and children.
Since this article was written, accounts have been received from America, that the state of South Carolina had issued a declaration
or its separation from the union, if the tariff laws are not immediately repealed ; that the government at Washington had publish¬
er a counter declaration asserting the supremacy of congress ; and that both parties had proceeded to make military preparations for
maintaining the ground they had respectively taken. It is, however, so clearly the interest of both to accommodate matters by mu¬
tual concessions, that there can be little doubt that the difference will for the present be settled by a reduction of the tariff', and
probably a promise that it will be further progressively reduced. If the union, however, is maintained, we cannot doubt that this
law will ultimately be wholly repealed.
COTTON MANUFACTURE.
The increase of carding and spinning cotton by machi¬
nery in establishments for that purpose, exclusively of that
done in private families, has been fourfold during the last
two years (previous to 1810), and tenfold in three years.
Thirty-six oif these mills, working 20,406 spindles, are si¬
tuated within thirty miles of Providence. The remainder
are scattered all over the country.
Morse, in the last edition of his Geography, gives the
same account of the state of the cotton manufacture of
America at the end of the year 1810, as that contained in
the public document above referred to; and adds, that the
cloths manufactured were bed-ticking, stripes and checks,
ginghams, cloths for shirts and sheetings, counterpanes,
webbing and coach laces, diapers, jeans, vestings, cotton
kerseymeres, fustians, cords, and velvets. From the enume¬
ration given in his work of the manufactures carried on in
the separate states of the union, it appears that the cotton
manufacture is confined to the states of Rhode Island,
Massachusetts, New Jersey, and New York.
We learn the farther progress of this manufactuie irom
a report of the house of representatives, presented in the
spring session of 1816. The report states,
“ That the quantity of cotton manufactured in the year
1815 was 90,000 bales, a quantity nearly equal to that
used in the cotton manufacture of France: That the
quantity used in 1810 was 10,000 bales ; in 1805, 1000
bales ; and in 1800, 500 bales.” This statement, the com¬
mittee say, they have no reason to doubt, nor have they
any to question the truth of the following succinct state¬
ment of the capital which is employed, of the labour which
it commands, and of the products of that labour.
Capital employed 40,000,000 dollars.
Males employed from the age of seven¬
teen and upwards   10,000
Women and female children... 66,000
Boys under seventeen years of age 24,000
Cotton manufactured, 90,000 bales 27,000,000 lbs.
Cotton cloth of various kinds manufac¬
tured 81,000,000 yards.
0ost  24,000,000 dollars.
The report proceeds to say, w that the manufacturers
of cotton, in making application to the national govern¬
ment for encouragement, have been induced to do so for
many reasons. They know that their establishments are
new, and in their infancy; and that they have to encoun¬
ter a competition with foreign establishments that have
arrived at maturity, which are supported by a large capi¬
tal, and have from the government every protection that
can be required.”
“ The committee, from the views they have taken, con¬
sider the situation of the manufacturing establishments to
be perilous. Some have decreased, and others have sus¬
pended business. A liberal encouragement will put them
again into operation with increased powers; but should it
be withheld, they will be prostrated. A capital of near
thirty millions of dollars will become inactive, the greater
part of which will be a dead loss to the manufacturers.
The committee, from all the consideration they have given
to this subject, are deeply impressed with a conviction
that the manufacturing establishments of cotton wool are
of real utility to the agricultural interest, and that they
contribute much to the prosperity of the union. Under
the influence of this conviction, the committee beg leave
to tender respectfully, with this report, the following reso¬
lution :
“ That from and after the 30th day of June next, in („„
lieu of the duties now authorized by law, there be laid, J^t-
levied, and collected, on cotton goods imported into the,
United States and territories thereof, from any foreign
country whatever, per centum ad valorem, being
not less than cents per square yard.”
At the date of this report the duty upon cotton goods
imported into the United States was 15 per cent.; but
before charging it, ten per cent, was added to the invoice,
and the dufy thus raised to 16-| per cent. Upon the re¬
commendation of the committee, 10 per cent, more was
imposed; and the whole being chaiged upon L.UO tor
every L.100 of net value, brought it up to 271 per cent
Besides this, all cotton goods below 13^<1. per yard were
ordered to be rated at 13^d., and the difference added to
the amount of the invoice before calculating the duty.
This regulation was meant as a particular encourage¬
ment to the home manufacture of the coarser articles.
New tariff acts were successively passed in 1824, 1828,
and 1832, in each of which the duty upon cotton goods |
imported was declared to be 25 per cent, ad valorem,
rating the coarser fabrics in the same manner as in 1816. I
The manufacture, under this protection against foreign
competition, rapidly increased. Power-loom works were
erected; the most approved processes both in spinning
and weaving were adopted; and the business was gene¬
rally successful. The manufacture, however, is still al¬
most wholly confined to the states of New York, Rhode
Island, and to the New England states. In the former of
these it is very extensive; and in the neighbourhood of
the city of New York nine new mills have been erected
in the course of the last twelve months. Within the same
period, 500,000 spindles are supposed to have been added
to the cotton manufacture of the states. In both the spin¬
ning and weaving departments, the processes are conduct¬
ed on the most approved principles, and there seems only
to be wanting that skill and sleight of hand in the execu- |
tion of the operations, which are indispensable to securing |
either excellence of quality in the article, or largeness of
quantity in the product. These are not to be obtained
until the manufacturer acquires such a command of la¬
bourers as will enable him to enforce a long and attentive
early training of the workers.
The Americans have skilful mechanics, and have in
different departments of industry introduced new ma¬
chines, displaying much ingenuity and mechanical contri¬
vance. In cotton spinning they have introduced a new
throstle, called Danforth’s throstle, noticed in our account
of spinning-machinery, in the early part ot this aiticle.
If the protecting duties can be maintained, the prospe¬
rity of the American cotton manufacture will continue until
its product exceeds the demand for the home consump¬
tion. If the surplus cannot then be disposed of m foreign
markets, the manufacturers must experience similar dis¬
tress to that of the cotton manufacturers of France from
the year 1827 to 1832. The circumstances, however, giv¬
ing rise to this state of things in the two countries are
different. In America they are of a temporary character,
and will quickly pass away. Possessed of the natural a -
vantages for a successful prosecution of this description
of employment, the northern states of the union only re¬
quire population to become the seat of extensive mairu
factures.1 They have coal and iron, the want of the last
of which in France, and the consequent high price of thei
iron, must prove an obstacle to the successful prosecu ion
1 The state of Illinois has all the elements to become, when peopled, the greatest manufacturing country in the wor •
extent is covered with a rich soil, on a limestone bottom. It is intersected by a navigable river, which in its course . . est
passes through the country where the most useful cotton wrool is grown ; and its mineral fields of coal, iron, and lean,
and most extensive that are known to exist.
COT
in that country of every branch of industry in which ma¬
chinery is largely used.
The Americans have been lately trying to dispose of
their cotton goods in foreign markets, but with what suc¬
cess we have not been able to learn. If the prices they
have brought have been found sufficient to pay all ex¬
penses, and return a profit to the producers, there can no
longer be any cause to dread the competition of foreign¬
ers in their own market, and their protecting duties may
be repealed with entire safety.
By the report of the American secretary of the trea¬
sury, made to the house of representatives, they appear to
have exported, during the years ending 30th September
1830 and 30th September 1831, the following goods of
cotton manufacture.
.i-mh ■ • ■ ' 1830.
Printed and coloured value 61,800
White  964,196
Nankeens  1,093
Twist, yarn, and thread  24,744
All other manufactures  266,350
1331.
dollars 96,931
  947,932
  2,397
  17,221
  61,832
1,318,183 1,126,313
More than one third of this amount went to Mexico;
the greater part of the remainder to the new South Ame¬
rican states. Of the part exported to South America,
the value of 250,000 dollars was sent to Chili, and not
more than 60,000 to any one of the other states.
The following statement, taken from the report of a
committee of congress appointed in the spring of 1832, to
inquire into the progress of the spinning and manufactur¬
ing of cotton in America, shows the number of cotton mills,
spindles, and looms, and the quantity of cotton consum¬
ed and of yarn produced in that country in the year 1831.
In twelve states they had, mills  795
spindles.... 1,246,503
looms  33,506
The weight of cotton consumed was 77,557,316
Allowing 2 oz. per lb. for loss.....  9,694,664
The total weight of yarn produced was... .lbs. 67,862,652
Weekly amount  1,305,051
Averaging 16| oz. weekly per spindle.
It also appears, from the statements made by the same
committee, that
COT 423
The number of males employed were .18,539 Cotton.
females ; 38,927 ' 
Total number employed in spinning and manufac-
turing  57,466
The amount paid for wages in the year was 10,294,444
dollars, or L.2,144,780, being L.42,895 per week, averaging
14s. lid. for each person employed as above.
We have now concluded our account of the cotton ma¬
nufacture ; a branch of industry which, next to the cultiva¬
tion of the soil, furnishes a more extensive employment to
labour and capital than any of the other occupations of man.
Its history during the short period it has existed in this
country furnishes matter of varied interest. We see in it
the necessities and energies of a free people calling into
active operation the dormant ingenuity of the artisan,
and giving birth to a succession of the most striking, in¬
ventions and discoveries for abridging or superseding hu¬
man labour. As an immediate result of this change, we
see a manufacture transplanted from India, where it had
existed for ages, to become the staple of our country, the
source of extraordinary and unexampled wealth. We see
the effects of this achievement of art give animation to
our commerce and agriculture, and contribute to the ge¬
neral amelioration and condition of every class of the com¬
munity. We trust that we are not deceiving ourselves
when we add, that we are also able to discover, in our
present circumstances, elements of that moral improve¬
ment of our population, without which we shall look in
vain for any permanent addition to the prosperity and
happiness of the nation.
But the effects of the altered mode of production which
our mechanical inventions have occasioned are not con¬
fined to Great Britain. The relative situation of different
countries has been changed. While some of them remain
in their former state, in others the power of production has
been increased in an enormous ratio. This, however, will
not be injurious to the progress of the whole. In each
country, industry, if left to itself, will take that direction
which the peculiar circumstances render most beneficial.
New fields of employment will be explored and appropri¬
ated, and increasing commercial intercourse wdll diffuse
the blessings to each people, in proportion to their peculiar
wants, and their peculiar means of purchasing their grati¬
fication. (h. h. h.)
COTTON, Sir Robert, an eminent English antiquary,
descended from an ancient family, was born in 1570. In
Ids eighteenth year he began to collect ancient records,
charters, and other manuscripts. Camden, Selden, and
Speed have acknowledged their obligations to him in their
respective works. He was highly distinguished by Queen
Elizabeth, and also by James I. who created him a baro¬
net. He wrote many things himself; but the principal
obligation which the country owes him is for his valuable
library, consisting of curious manuscripts, which he was
forty years in collecting, and of which a catalogue was
published by Thomas Smith, entitled Catalogus Librorum
manuscriptorum Bibliotheca Cottoniana, etc. 1696, fob At
ns death in 1631 he left the property of this collection to
18 though he designed it for public use. Large
accessions were made to this library by private benefac-
lons before the death of the founder, and afterwards by
purchases of his heirs, and donations of others, who added
° it a great number of books, chiefly relating to the history
an antiquities of our own country. At the request of Sir
John Cotton, an act of parliament was passed for preserv¬
ing it after his decease, under the above denomination, for
public use. It is now fixed in the British Museum.
Cotton, Charles, a burlesque poet, was descended of
a good family, and lived in the reign of Charles II. and
James II. His most noted piece is Scarronides, or a tra¬
vesty of the first and fourth books of the AEneid. But
though, from the title, one might imagine it an imitation
of Scarron’s famous travesty of the same author, yet, upon
examination, it will be found to excel not only that, but
every other attempt of the same kind which has hitherto
been made. He also translated several of Lucian’s dia¬
logues, in the same manner, under the title of The Scoffer
Scoff’d, and wrote another poem of a more serious kind,
entitled The Wonders of the Peak. The exact period of
Mr Cotton’s birth or his death is nowhere recorded; but
it is probable that the latter happened about the time of
the revolution. Neither is it better known what were
his circumstances with respect to fortune. They appear,
however, to have been easy, if one may judge from the
424
COT
Cotton
turn of his writings, which is such as seems scarcely pos¬
sible for any one to indulge in whose mind was not per-
Cotvtto. fectly at ease. There is one anecdote told of him which
' seems to show that his vein of humour could not restrain
itself on any consideration. It appears that in consequence
of a single couplet in his Virgil Travesty, in which he has
made mention of a peculiar kind of ruff worn by a grand¬
mother of his who lived in the Peak, he lost an estate ot
L.400 per annum. The old lady, whose humour and testy
disposition he could by no means have been a stranger to,
was never able to forgive the liberty he had taken with
her; and having her fortune wholly at her own disposal,
although she had previously made him her sole heir, she
altered her will, and gave atfay the estate to an absolute
^Cotton, Nathaniel, an English physician of the eigh¬
teenth century, who long practised at St Albans, where
he had the principal charge of a lunatic asylum, and
where also he died in the year 1788. Like several other
medical men of this country, he cultivated poetry as well
as physic; and although he published observations on a
particular kind of scarlet fever, yet he is better known as
the author of poetical pieces, inserted in the collection
published by Dodsley, and particularly by a work.in verse,
entitled, Visions for the Improvement of Children, which
has been several times reprinted. _
Cotton des Houssayes, Jean-Baptiste, doctoi and li¬
brarian of the Sorbonne, was born at Neuville-Chant-
d’Oisel, near Rouen, in November 1727, and died at laris
in August 1783. He professed theology during fifteen
years at Rouen, but with what success we are not inform¬
ed. His works are, 1. Eloge Histonque de M. Mailkt du
Boullay, Rouen, 1770, 8vo ; 2. Eloge Historique de l Abbe
de Saas, 1775, 8vo; 3. Eloge Historique de Chamousset,
prefixed to the (Euvres completes de Chamousset, 1/85, 2
vols. 8vo, which Cotton edited; and, 4. Several articles
relating to botany, in the Journal de Physique of 1780.
He had also laboured at a work on universal literary his¬
tory, to be entitled Bihliotheque Raisonnee, the plan of
which may be seen in the Annee Litter aire of 1780, and in
the Journal des Savans of 1781.
COTULA, or Cotyla, a liquid measure in use among
the ancients. Fannius says the cotyla was the same thing
with the hemina, which was half a sextary.
At cotylas, quas si placeat, dixisse licebit
Heminas recepit geminas sextarius unus.
Chorier observes, that the cotyla was used as a dry
measure as well as a liquid one; and this is confirmed by
the authority of Thucydides, who in one place- mentions
two cotylas of wine, and in another two cotylas of bread.
COTYS, a name common to several kings of Thrace, of
Cappadocia, and of the Cimmerian Bosphorus. The most
ancient of these was Cotys, king of Thrace, who, about
the year 600 b. c. permitted Alyattes, king of Lydia, to
carry a colony of Mysians. The kings of this family called
themselves descendants of Eumolpus ; and hence they al¬
ways preserved an intimate connection with the Athe¬
nians, who granted to several of them the title ol citizen.
Cotys I. was the son of Pentheus, became king of a por¬
tion of Thrace about the year 380, and was assassinated
in 356 b. c. Of Cotys II. little or nothing is known. Cotys
HI. was the son of Sadales, and reigned over the Odryses
about the year b. c. 57. Two other princes bore the same
name, and also a king of the Lesser Armenia, who was son
of Cotys V.
COTYTTO, the goddess of debauchery. Her festivals,
called cotyttia, were celebrated by the Athenians, Corin¬
thians, Thracians, and other races of people, during the
night. Her priests were called baptce, and nothing but
debauchery and wantonness prevailed at the celebration
c o u
of these festivals. A festival of the same name was ob- c»
served in Sicily, where the votaries of the goddess carried
about boughs hung with cakes and fruit, which it was law- Coi*
ful for any person to pluck off. It was a capital crime to ^
reveal whatever was seen or done at these sacred festivals,
and Eupolis lost his life for an unseasonable reflection
upon them. The goddess Cotytto is supposed to be the
same as Proserpine.
COUCH, in Painting, denotes a lay or impression of
colour, whether in oil or water, with which the painter
covers the canvass, wall, wainscot, or other matter to be
painted. The word is also used for a lay or impression
on any thing, to make it firm and consistent, or to screen
it from the weather.
Paintings are covered with a couch of varnish. A can¬
vass to be painted must first have two couches of size
before the colours be laid; and two or three couches of
white lead are laid on wood before the couch of gold be
applied. The leather-gilders lay a couch of water and
the albumen of eggs on the leather, before they apply the
gold or silver leaf.
The gold-wire drawers also nse the word couch for the
n-old or silver leaf with which they cover the mass to be
gilded or silvered before they draw it through the iron
which gives it its proper thickness. The gilders use couch
for the quantity of gold or silver leaves applied on the
metals in gilding or silvering. Each couch of gold is about
one leaf, or two at most, and each of silver three. If the
gilding be hatched, there are required from eight to twelve
couches, and only7 three or four if it be without hatching.
To silver there are required from four to ten couches, ac¬
cording to the beauty of the work.
COUCHANT, in Heraldry, is understood of a lion or
other beast when lying down, but with the head raised,
so as to distinguish the posture of couchant from that of
dormant, in which last he is supposed to be quite stretch¬
ed out and asleep.
COUCHE, in Heraldry, denotes any thing lying along.
Thus chevron-couche is a chevron lying sidewise, with
the two ends on each side of the shield, although they
should properly rest on the base.
COUERON, a market-town in the department of the
Lower Loire, in France, on the banks of the Loire, con¬
taining 3834 inhabitants.
CO ULAN, a town of Hindustan, situated on the coast
of Travancore. It is a very ancient place, having, accord¬
ing to tradition, been built in 825 ; and in confirmation of
tins event, the inhabitants commence their era at the pe¬
riod of its foundation. It was at this place that Alexius
Menezes, the first archbishop of Goa, opened his confer¬
ence with the Christians of St Thomas, when he induced
them to renounce the principles of Nestorius, and embrace
the doctrines of the Roman Catholic church, of whicn
religion there are three churches in the town. Still the
great majority of the people are Hindus; and the Brah¬
mins possess here a very ancient temple dedicated to Ma-
hadeva, or Siva. This place carries on a considerable trade,
and is a great depot of goods, such as cotton, PePPer’
ginger, cardamums, and other articles of merchandise.
Provisions are also very cheap, and there is abundance o
fine fish. Long. 76. 48. E. Lat. 8. 51. N.
COULOMB, Charles Augustin, a profound ana w
genious theoretical mechanic and natural philosopher, e-
scended from a distinguished family of Montpellier, w
born at Angouleme, on the 14th of June 1736. At an ear y
period :of his life he felt a strong preference for mathe¬
matical studies, and would gladly have devoted his
attention to the pursuit of science; but he found i
convenient to enter the military profession as an eng •
This department, however, afforded him ample scop
COULOMB.
425
oulo
the exercise of his powers of observation and calculation ;
and. after having been ordered on service to America, and
remaining abroad nine years, with some injury to his
health, he presented to the Academy of Sciences, in 1773,
a memoir on cohesion, and on the resistance of various
works of masonry, which, for the accuracy and originality
of the views it exhibits, for tfie clearness and neatness
of the demonstrations, and for the practical utility of the
results, is fully equal to any of his later productions, and
shows a mind still in the vigour of youth, and yet matur¬
ed by the approach of middle age. The academy paid him
the compliment of making him one of its correspondents ;
and in 1779 he had the satisfaction of sharing, with the
laborious Van Swinden, the prize proposed for improve¬
ments in the construction of compasses. He resided for
some time at Rochefort, where he had abundant opportu¬
nity of prosecuting, in the naval arsenal, his experimental
researches on friction, which obtained him in 1781 the
double prize for the theory of the effects of simple ma¬
chines. In the same year he had the good fortune to be
stationed permanently at Paris, and becoming a member
of the academy, he devoted himself entirely to the investi¬
gation of the laws of electricity and magnetism, and of the
force of frictions and resistances of various kinds. He is
generally supposed to have been the first who proved, by
direct experiments, the law of the decrease of electrical
and magnetic forces in the proportion of the squares of
the distances; but it must not be forgotten that the late
Lord Stanhope had published an experiment five years
before the date of M. Coulomb’s researches, which suffi¬
ciently established this law with respect to electricity ; al¬
though the extension of the same law to the operation of
magnetism appears to belong exclusively to M. Coulomb.
He continued to occupy himself in these researches till
the time of the revolution, when he was expelled from
Paris by the decree which banished all the nobility; having
before given up the appointment of intendant-general of
fountains, and having otherwise very materially suffered
in his property. He retired with his friend Borda to a
small estate which he possessed at Blois; and during his
residence there, made some observations on vegetable phy¬
siology, which he afterwards presented to the Institute.
He was recalled to Paris in order to take part in the
new determination of weights and measures, which had
been decreed by the revolutionary government. He re¬
turned, soon afterwards, into the country, wishing to devote
himself to the care of his family, and of the remains of his
little fortune. But upon the establishment of the National
Institute, he again became an inhabitant of the metropolis.
He had, however, occasion to undertake a tour of consi¬
derable extent, in discharging the duty of an inspector of
public instruction ; and he was remarked, in his examina¬
tions of the young students, for the singular good nature
and paternal tenderness of his manners. He still continu¬
ed his application to his favourite pursuits, and in particu¬
lar to the investigation of the magnitude of forces of vari¬
ous kinds, by means of the principles of torsion. And his
last study was an inquiry respecting the universal diffu¬
sion of the magnetic power through nature, which he at
first supposed to be almost unlimited; although he after¬
wards found reason to conclude, that its general cause
was the presence of a minute quantity of iron. A short
summary of his numerous and elaborate memoirs will best
illustrate the extent and accuracy of his researches.
1. Statical Problems relating to Architecture. Mem. Sav.
Etr. vii. 1773, p. SLS. The fluxional modes of ascertain-
lng maxima and minima are applied, in this admirable
memoir, to the determination of the strength of blocks of
stone, and of pillars of masonry, and to that of the resist-
ance of semifluids, and the thrust of earth. The author’s
VOL. vii.
manner of considering the subject was at that time new; Coulomb,
it has been still further extended by some subsequent
re-seaidies in this country (Hutton’s Mathematical Dictio¬
nary, article Pressure') ; and many of the calculations con¬
tained in the ai tides Bridge and Carpentry of this wrork
are principally founded on the same basis. M. Coulomb
very properly objects to Musschenbroeck’s mode of repre¬
senting columns as exerting their passive strength like
bars resisting flexure; and it is surprising that M. La¬
grange did not profit by his remarks, in abridging his la¬
borious investigations of their elastic force. M. Coulomb
appreciates the friction of soft materials by the angle at
which they will stand unsupported; an angle which has
been termed in this country the angle of repose, by an
author who perhaps imagined there was more novelty in
the idea, than he would have done if this memoir had
been fresh in his mind. For the thickness of the walls of
an embankment, one seventh of the height is recommend¬
ed as a good proportion in common cases, with an increase
of one sixth towards the bottom ; but the calculation is
left in some measure incomplete, although it may be suf¬
ficiently accurate for the cases which most commonly oc¬
cur in practice. In the last place, the proper direction of
the joints of flat arches is determined; and the point of
easiest fracture of arches in general is investigated, by an
approximative method, applied successively to each joint.
2. On the improvement of the construction of the Compass
Mem. Sav. Etr. ix. p. 165. This memoir contains a labo¬
rious and accurate investigation, both of the operation of
the force of magnetism, and of the resistances exhibited
to' the motion of a needle by friction or by other causes.
The author laj^s down, as a fundamental principle, the
equality of the accelerative force acting on a given needle,
in all positions, when referred to the direction of the me¬
ridian ; so that the properties of its vibrations become
precisely similar to those of a pendulum actuated by the
force of gravity. From the existence of an attractive and
a repulsive force at the same time in each particle of the
body, with respect to the opposite magnetical poles of the
earth, he concludes the total impossibility of explaining
the effects by means of any ethereal currents or vortices,
which had been admitted by some of the best mathemati¬
cians of the century, then still surviving. He examines
the comparative force of needles of different dimensions,
and proves the extreme delicacy of the suspension afford¬
ed by a long fibre, whether of hair or silk ; and he describes
a compass in which the reading is performed by means of a
microscope fixed to a graduated arm, serving as a vernier.
In order to find the true direction of the magnetic action
of a needle, he turns it upside down, and takes the mean
of the observations. He ascertains the magnitude of the
f riction of steel on glass by measuring the angle of repose ;
and he finds that it is equal to y^-ths of the pressure.
He then proceeds to calculate the friction of a pivot, sup¬
posing it to be compressed most at the centre ; but con¬
cludes, from a hasty experiment, that the magnitude of
the surface is not much changed by a change of pressure.
He infers, however, that a light needle has an advantage
over a heavy one. A perforation in the middle of a needle
appears to interfere but little with its magnetic force. He
proposes to ascertain the position of the dipping needle,
by measuring the frequency of the horizontal vibrations,
and the force required to keep it level; and he concludes
his memoir with an account of the diurnal variations of
the needle, and a conjecture respecting the operation of
the sun and his atmosphere, which he compares to a large
aurora borealis ; referring the secular change of the varia¬
tion to the slow motion of the sun’s apogee.
3. Recherches sur les moyens dexecuter sans I'eau toutes
sortes de Travaux Hydrauliques. 8. Par. 1779. Rozier xiv.
3 H
426
COULOMB.
Coulomb. Par. 393. Addition. Rozier xvii. Par. 301. Ed. 2. 8. Par.
1797. The academy of Rouen had proposed a prize fo
an essay on the best mode of lowering a rock in the beine,
at Quillebeuf, which was about a foot below water-mark.
This essay was originally written for the prize, but it was
published without waiting for the competition, at the re¬
quest of some engineers, who wished to have it mac
known without loss of time. The method recommended
consists in employing a floating a.r-chest in the manne o
a diving bell, forcing out the water from its lower part by
means of bellows, after shutting up the ^rkmen m tlie
upper part. In the additional paper, printed in the Jour
S a stronger pneutnat* apparatus ts de¬
scribed, somewhat resembling the air vessel of a fire en
cine, which discharges its air into the chest, and is then
filled again by letting out the water; it is also proposed
to empfoy mercury, in a similar manner, in the construc¬
tion of an air-pump. The proposed apparatus does not
appear to have been tried ; but there can be no doubt that
it might often be of advantage, when the inequalities of
the rock, or any other causes, prevented the construction
°f4 CThe<*yof Simple Machines, comprehending the effects
of friction and of the stiffness of ropes. Mem. Sav-fJ*'
x p 161. This essay gained the double prize proposed
by the academy for 1781 ; the difficulty of performing ex¬
periments on a large scale having probably prevented the
presentation of any memoir sufficiently comprehensive the
preceding year, when the subject was first proposed, ihe
author’s principal merit consists in the determination of
the different magnitude of the initial adhesion, according
to the time that the substances had continued in contact
with each other, and had been pressed together, and of
the effect of the magnitude of the surface of contact ot
particular substances, as well as of the causes of the occa¬
sional difference of friction, with different velocities, espe¬
cially when the unctuous substances employed are render¬
ed too soft by the heat which is produced by the motion.
He compared the effect of the mutual contact of a gieat
variety of substances; and, for tbe purpose of launching
ships, he recommends the use of oak, sliding on elm, pre¬
viously well rubbed with hard tallow; but in some other
cases he found tallow, if not frequently renewed, rather
injurious than serviceable. He observed, that the rigidity
of ropes increased more rapidly than their diameter, but
somewhat less rapidly than their strength ; and that in
order to overcome this rigidity, besides a constant force, an
additional force was required, proportional to the weight
employed. With every allowance for resistance ot all
kinds, he calculates, that a well-constructed machine, for
instance a simple capstan, raising a large weight, will pro¬
duce an effect equivalent to nine tenths of the force em¬
ployed. But, in many of the simple machines in common use,
for instance in ships’ blocks ot the ordinary construction,
it appears, from the reports of other authors, that the loss
frequently amounts to more than half of the power.
5. Observations on the force of Windmills, and on the
form of their sails. Mem. Ac. Par. 1/81, p. Go. ’Ihe in¬
clination of the sails found to succeed best in practice
varied from sixty to eighty degrees in their different parts.
The force was estimated by the Veight of the stampers
raised in the process of extracting rape oil, and it appear¬
ed that only about one seventh of the power of the wind
was lost. On an average, the wind was observed to blow
eight hours a day, with the velocity of fifteen English
miles an hour; and the work of the mill was generally so
arranged that the velocity of the sails was in a certain
proportion to that of the wind, experience having shown
that the effect thus obtained was the greatest possible.
M. Coulomb attempted to become a tenant of one of the
mills for a few months, in order to make experiments on CouU
. . i i  v.r• But tLp nrrmnptnvo r.. ■
it with the greater convenience; but the proprietors sus-Ws,(
pected that he wished to discover some of their secrets,
and refused to comply with his proposal.
6. Theoretical and experimental researches on the force of
Torsion. Mem. Ac. Par. 1784, p. 229. The force of tor.
sion is here very accurately and elegantly determined for
substances of different diameters ; and it may be inferred
from M. Coulomb’s experiments, that the resistance of a
steel wire, to a force tending to twist it, is always equal
to that of a fixed axis, supposed to be y1^ as great in
diameter, having the same wire coiled round it, or rather
simply attached to a point of its circumfeience. I or brass
wire the proportion must be yy-jj ; and, according to Mr Ca¬
vendish’s experiments, it must be yy for copper.. The re¬
action of brass, notwithstanding its greater flexibility, is
more perfect and durable than that of steel, and it is there¬
fore preferred for the construction of balances for the mea¬
surement of minute forces by the effect of torsion, several
varieties of which are here described. And as an instance of
their utility, the author has ascertained, that the resistance
of liquids depends almost entirely on two forces, the one
varying as the velocity, the other as its square, the con¬
stant portion of the resistance being scarcely perceptible
in any case. He proves, that tempering a bar or wire of
any metal has no effect in the immediate force of its re¬
sistance at a given flexure, although it very materially
modifies the extent of its action. Continued twisting of a
soft wire seems to produce a very equable degree of hard¬
ness, which enables it to retain nine times as much mag¬
netic power as in its original state ; and on account of this
increase of hardness only, a soft wire appears to exhibit a
greater extent of elastic recoil when it is twisted round
several times, than when only once or twice,
7. Description of a Compass. Mem. Ac. Par. 1785, p.
560. The needle is suspended by a number of single
threads of silk, made to adhere by dipping them in hot
water, or by means of a little gum, each tlnead being
capable of bearing a weight of about fifty grains. The
needle is to be so suspended that the thread may have
no tendency to cause it to deviate from the magnetic me¬
ridian ; and this is to be ascertained by substituting a cop¬
per wire in its place. Cassini was in the habit of employ¬
ing a compass of this construction, for making accurate
observations on the diurnal variation.
8 Three Memoirs on Electricity and Magnetism. Mem.
Ac. Par. 1785, p. 569, 578, 612. The first memoir is de¬
voted to the description of an electrical balance, founde
on the force of torsion, and to the demonstration of the
law according to which small bodies similarly electrified
repel each other with a force decreasing as the squares o
the distances increase. One of the instruments emp oye
was so delicate that each degree of the circle of torsion
expressed a force of only one-hundred-thousandth of an
English grain ; another, suspended by a single fibre of s
four inches long, made a complete revolution with a force
of one-seventy-thousandth of a grain, and turned to
extent of a right angle when a stick of sealing wax which
had been rubbed was presented to it at the distance of
vard. The second memoir relates to the laws ot elect
attraction, and of the magnetic forces, which are a found
to vary in the same proportion as the electric rep
The direct experiments on tbe attraction of balls con ar y
electrified presented some difficulties, and the vlbratl0.fi ,
a small needle, at different distances from an electrineo
body, was employed for a collateral experiment. A^
poles in which the magnetic forces appear to be ^
trated are at some little distance from the respe .
of a magnetic bar, and not exactly at the exti em
the third memoir, M. Coulomb investigates the law
COULOMB.
, gradual loss of the electricity of an insulated body,
wjjjch seems to be always proportional to the intensity of
the charge, and independent both of the form and of the
conducting power, except in the case of sharp points or
edges; it appears also to vary nearly as the cube of the
quantity of water contained in the air, though probably
somewhat diminished by an increase of temperature. It
is however remarkable, that changes of moisture, indicat¬
ed by the hygrometer, are not discoverable in the con¬
ducting power for a considerable time afterwards. The
quantity of electrity carried off by the air being ascertain¬
ed, that which is lost by the imperfection of the insulat¬
ing support remained to be determined ; and it was found
that a certain length of a fibre of silk, varying as the
square of the intensity, produced complete insulation with
respect to all weaker charges.
9. Fourth Memoir on Electricity. Mem. Ac. Par. 178G,
p. 67. It is here shown that the capacity for receiving
electricity is totally independent of any chemical attrac¬
tion of the body for the supposed fluid; since balls of
copper and of pith, or plates of iron and of paper, when
brought into contact with each other, divide the electri¬
city in equal proportions. It is also experimentally prov¬
ed, by boring cylindrical holes in a large piece of wood,
and touching the bottom of the holes with a small circle
of gilt paper, that the interior parts of an electrified body
remain in a state of indifference.
10. Fifth Memoir on Electricity. Mem. Ac. Par. 1787,
p. 421. When a large globe touches a smaller, the smaller
receives a charge, which is stronger than that of the lar¬
ger, but never twice as strong. It is proved by measur¬
ing the intensity of the electricity of a varnished wire.,or
cylinder, that bodies are not surrounded by an electric
atmosphere, but receive the charge within their sub¬
stance ; for the varnish, which is impermeable to the fluid,
does not sensibly affect the capacity of the cylinder.
11. Sixth Memoir on Electricity. Mem. Ac. Par. 1788,
p. 617. This interesting investigation relates to the dis¬
tribution of electricity between a nurpber of equal globes ;
in the different parts of a long cylinder; between a large
globe and a number of small ones; and between a globe
and a cylinder. In showing the agreement of the theory
with experiments, M. Coulomb’s industry and ingenuity
are very successfully exerted in order to overcome the
difficulties of the approximative calculation, although it
might perhaps have been not much more laborious, and
yet far more satisfactory^, to have proceeded to a more
correct and conclusive analysis. In a series of twenty-
four globes, the charge of the first was to that of the
second as three to two, and to that of the twelfth as seven
to four; in a cylinder fifteen diameters long, the intensity
at the end was to the intensity at the middle as twenty-
I three to ten. Of twenty-four small globes in contact with
a larger, the last exhibited an intensity about four times
as great as the first. The experiments on globes and cy¬
linders combined are still more interesting, as affording an
immediate application to the effects of conductors in car¬
rying off electricity. At the remote end of a long cylin¬
der equal in diameter to one twelfth of that of the globe,
| the intensity was nearly twenty times as great as that of
the globe; and it increased almost in the same proportion
as the diameter of the cylinder or wire was diminished;
i but a short wire received a much weaker charge. From
the formulae founded on these experiments, M. Coulomb
calculates that a cloud, a thousand feet in diameter, will
cause a wire a line in diameter, raised by a kite, to receive
an electricity at the lower end more than sixty thousand
times as great as its own. He also observes, that a point
projecting but little from a large surface discharges elec¬
tricity but slowly; a plane touching a globe received an
427
electricity equally intense with that of the globe, on both Coulomb,
its surfaces. M. Coulomb considers the hypothesis of the
existence of two electric fluids as less objectionable than the
theory of Franklin, TEpinus, and Cavendish, though he does
not attempt to give any direct proof that he can decide
the question ; but he finds it difficult to believe that mat¬
ter can repel matter, and attract the electric fluid, with
forces precisely equal, at the same time that matter is
known to attract matter with a force of gravitation vary¬
ing according to the same law, but incomparably less ac¬
tive. It does not, however, appear that this difficulty is
by any means a very important one, since we may avoid
it altogether, by supposing that matter only repels mat¬
ter, and that it attracts the electric fluid, with which
matter is commonly saturated, with a force somewhat
greater, so that the difference of these forces constitutes
gravitation ; which thus, like the recently-discovered che¬
mical attractions depending on electricity, may be redu¬
ced to a modification of the power of this wonderfully
universal agent; an agent which appears almost to com¬
bine the subtilty of spirit with the energetic qualities of
matter. It must, however, be remembered, that we have
no evidence of the separate existence of electricity inde¬
pendently of matter; it does not pass, like light and heat,
through the vacuum of the barometer; nor, in all proba¬
bility, through the empty spaces interposed between the
different parts of the solar system ; although the accelera¬
tive force depending on it is not confined by these or by
any other limits ; and it will probably long remain a ques¬
tion, whether electricity may not rather be a modification
of matter or motion in the bodies concerned, than a semi¬
material substance pervading them; especially among
those who even doubt of the materiality of light and heat
as separate substances.
12. Seventh Memoir, relating to Magnetism. Mem. Ac.
Par. 1789, p. 455. In order to check the irregular oscil¬
lations of needles very delicately suspended, M. Coulomb
finds it convenient to, attach to them a horizontal plate,
immersed in a vessel of water. The directive power of a
needle of given thickness appears to be nearly propor¬
tional to its length, the quantity of magnetism accumu¬
lated near the ends being constant, except that it extends
to the distance of about twenty-five diameters ; and if the
needle is too short to allow space for this accumulation,
the directive power decreases as the square of the length.
The directive forces of similar needles, composed of pieces
of the same twisted wire, are nearly as their weights.
M. Coulomb observes the difficulty of accounting for the
well-known fact, that neither half of a needle, when it has
been divided, appears to be attracted either northwards
or southwards; and he thinks, that whether we admit the
existence of one magnetic fluid or of two, it will still be
necessary to consider every magnet as made up of mi¬
nute parts, each possessing a north and a south pole, of
intensities varying according to their situation; and he
remarks, that the high charges of electricity, supported by
very thin plates, afford an analogy favourable to the exist¬
ence of this kind of partial charge of magnetism. He might
also have added, after the happy combinations of Volta, that
the electro-chemical battery exhibits an arrangement al¬
most identical with that which he attributes to a magnet.
With respect to the forms of needles, the rhomboid ap¬
peared to have some advantage over the rectangle; the
temper required to be neither very hard nor very soft,
and it was found best to anneal the needles to a dark red,
or to employ plates of a spring temper when they re¬
quired to be larger. A number of needles combined into
a mass lost more than half their strength, so that it is of
advantage to attach several parallel needles, at a dis¬
tance from each other, to the card of a compass. M. Cou-
428
COULOMB.
Coulomb, lomb’s mode of communicating magnetism is to lay the
ends of the bar on those of two strong magnets, placed
opposite to each other, and to draw two other magnets
repeatedly along it, in an inclined position, from the mid¬
dle to the respective ends, in opposite directions, at the
same time. His large battery consisted of a number of
plates surrounding two pairs of pieces of soft iron, which
formed the ends of each compound magnet, while the
middle was left hollow; the whole weighed thirty or forty
pounds, and would lift eighty or a hundred, and it com¬
municated to common needles as much magnetism as they
were capable of retaining when their ends were merely
placed on it without any further operation.
13. Examination of the Friction of Pivots. Mem. Ac.
Par. 1790, p. 448. M. Coulomb tacitly acknowdedges, in
this paper, a slight inaccuracy in his former expeiimcnts
on the friction of pivots, the result of which seemed to
indicate that the rotatory resistance of the friction was
simply as the pressure, independently of any change of
the magnitude of the minute surface of contact. He now
finds that this is only true of smaller weights, when the
pivot has already supported a larger, and its surface has
probably been a little flattened ; otherwise the observation
agrees more nearly with the theory, and perfectly so on
the supposition of a conical point affording a resistance
proportional to the displacement of the surface. The fric¬
tion of steel on garnet is a little less than half as much as
on steel, on agate a little more than half, and on glass
four fifths. Light needles, with a pivot tapering in an
angle of about 20°, seem to be the most advantageous for
common purposes ; but if the needle is heavy, the point
must be more obtuse. The conoidal caps, commonly used
for suspending needles, had always an irregularity at the
centre, which made the friction many times greater than
that of a well-finished surface uniformly concave.
14. Experiments on the Circulation of Sap. Mem. Inst.
Sc. ii, p. 246. M. Coulomb seems to have sufficiently
ascertained that the sap appears to rise, in the poplar,
near the centre of the tree, mixed with a considerably
larger portion of air, which is extricated with a hissing
noise when the tree is cut or bored; it is not, however,
certain that this air is in an elastic state while the vessels
remain closed. The phenomenon was first observed in
April, and continued throughout the summer, being most
distinct in the hottest sunshine.
15. Observations on the Daily Labour of Men. Mem.
Inst. Sc. ii. p. 380. eThis memoir was read to the Aca¬
demy of Sciences in 1775, but was not then published.
M. Coulomb’s general conclusion is in favour of the em¬
ployment of strength in ascending stairs ; but he observes,
that former authors have very frequently exaggerated the
whole amount of a man’s daily labour. In fact, the day’s
work which he assigns to a man of ordinary strength
thus employed, is less than half of that which Desaguiiers
attributes to a labourer turning a winch; and Professor
Robison has recorded more than one instance of a much
larger result of the labour of a man ascending an inclined
plane, even besides the force lost in the machinery em¬
ployed; so that we must suppose the labourers in France
to be commonly less vigorous than in Great Britain;
almost in the same proportion as M. Coulomb has observ¬
ed the work of the same man in Martinique to be less
than in France.
16. Comparison of the Magnetic Powers of Different
Needles. Mem Inst. Sc. iii. p. 176. A number of accu¬
rate experiments are here adduced, in confirmation of the
theoretical conclusion, that needles of a similar form, and
composed of portions of the same wire, possess directive
powers which are very nearly proportional to their weights.
17. On the Cohesion of Fluids, and their Resistance to
Slow Motions. Mem. Inst. Sc. iii. p. 246. The interest- dj
ing experiments here related demonstrate that the con- cf
stant part of the resistance of fluids is insensible; that the ]
portion varying simply as the velocity is more than seven- 4
teen times as great in oil as in water, while the portion
which varies as the square of the velocity is nearly equal
in both these fluids. The resistance did not increase with
the depth of immersion ; on the contrary, it was a little
greater when the body was partly above the surface. It
was observed that very slow oscillations were somewhat
accelerated even by the motion of a carriage passing along
the street. Greasing the surface of the solid did not sen¬
sibly lessen the resistance to its motion, nor was it mate¬
rially increased by sprinkling sand on the grease; so that
the particles of the liquid seemed to slide rather on each
other than on the solid. But it is probable that these dif- ,
ferences would have been more perceptible in greater ve¬
locities ; for it seems reasonable to expect that the fric- i
tion between a fluid and a solid should partake, in a slight !
degree, of the nature of the friction between two solids, I
so as to increase less rapidly with an increase of velocity, 1 |
than the friction of the particles of fluids among them- !
selves.
18. A neiv method of determining the Position of the
Dipping Needle. Mem. Inst. Sc. iv. p. 565. The method
suggested in a former mempir is compared, in this short
essay, with the mean of four observations made in the
common way, the magnetism of the needle being reversed
during the experiment; and it appears that the error of
either method is not likely to exceed ten or twelve mi¬
nutes.
19. On Universal Magnetism. Bullet. Soc. Philom.
N. 61. 63 ; Journ. Phys. iiv. p. 240, 267, 454 ; Journ. R.
List. i. p. 134. The experiments mentioned in the first of
these papers were immediately repeated in this country,
with results less satisfactory than those which M. Cou¬
lomb had obtained ; and he soon found reason, upon a fur¬
ther examination, to change the opinion which he had at
first inferred from them, observing that a grain of iron was
sufficient to communicate sensible magnetism to twenty
pound weight of another substance. There still remain,
however, some difficulties respecting the magnetism of
brass, which have not, yet been sufficiently explained.
M. Coulomb’s moral character is said to have been as
correct as his mathematical investigations. At an early
period of his life he gained the grateful acknowledgments
of the inhabitants of Brittany for his disinterested exer¬
tions in preventing the execution of some public works
which threatened to be ruinous to the province. His
manners were serious but gentle, and sometimes diversi¬
fied by a mild gaiety, which made him very amiable in
society. His disposition was generous and benevolent;
but, notwithstanding all his modesty, he could exhibit
sufficient spirit when he was called upon to repel an un¬
just attack. Such occurrences were, however, far from
being frequent, for his merits and his success were uni¬
versally acknowledged, and he was extremely popular,
without having ever excited envy. In the particular de¬
partment of science which he cultivated, he may fairly be
ranked in the same class with Franklin, iEpinus, and Ca¬
vendish. Fie was less original than Franklin, but much
more profound. He gave to the speculations of ikpmus
both a more defined application and a more satisfactory
demonstration ; and he was equally accurate with Caven¬
dish, but much more persevering with respect to the more
limited objects of his researches ; and his improvemen s
in the theory of electricity may be considered as haying
immediately prepared the way for the elegant inventions
of Volta, and the still more marvellous discoveries o
Davy. In short, among all the men of science who have
c o u
c o u
429
julo
inie1
II
duik
done honour to France, it would be difficult to point out
a single individual who, with regard to the cultivation of
terrestrial physics, could at all be put in competition with
m Coulomb. His health had long been extremely feeble,
and in addition to his more chronic complaints, he was at
last attacked by a slow fever, to which he fell a victim on
the 23d of August 1806. He had been a lieutenant-colo¬
nel of engineers, a chevalier of the order of St Louis, and
a member of the legion of honour; but he had acquired
little property, and he left to his two sons scarcely any
other patrimony'than the public gratitude and esteem for
his merits and his virtues. (Delambre, Mem. List. Sc.
ii. Hist. p. 206.)
COULOMMIERS, an arrondissement in the depart¬
ment of the Seine and Marne, in France, extending over
465 square miles, and containing 50,243 inhabitants. The
city which gives its name to the arrondissement is on the
right bank of the great Morin, and contained 570 houses
and 3530 inhabitants.
COUNCIL, in a general sense, an assembly of various
considerable persons, to concert measures relative to the
state.
In Britain, the law, in order to assist the king in the
discharge of his duties, the maintenance of his dignity,
and the exertion of his prerogative, has assigned him a
diversity of councils to advise withal.
The first of these is the high court of parliament.
The peers of the realm are by their birth hereditary
counsellors of the crown, and may be called together by
the king, to impart their advice in all matters of import¬
ance to the realm, either in time of parliament, or, which
has been their principal use, when there is no parliament
in being. Accordingly, Bracton, speaking of the nobility
of his time, says, they might properly be called consules a
consukndo ; reges enim sibi associant ad consulendum. And
in the law books it is laid down, that the peers are created
for two reasons ; first, ad consulendum, and, secondly, ad
defendendum, rcgem ; for which reasons the law gives them
certain great and high privileges, such as freedom from
arrest, even when no parliament is sitting, because the
law holds that they are always assisting the king with
their counsel for the commonwealth, or keeping the realm
in safety by their prowess and valour.
Instances of conventions of the peers to advise the king
were frequent in former times, though they have now
fallen into disusb by reason of the more regular meetings
of parliament. Sir Edward Coke gives us an extract of a
record, 5 Henry IV. concerning an exchange of lands be¬
tween the king and the Earl of Northumberland, in which
the value of each was agreed to be settled by advice of
, parliament, if any should be called before the feast of St
Lucia, or otherwise by advice of the grand council of
i peers, which the king promised to assemble before the
said feast in case no parliament should be called. Many
other instances of this kind of meeting are to be found
under our ancient kings; though the formal method of
convoking them had been so long left off, that when King
Charles 1. in 1640 issued writs under the great seal, call¬
ing a council of all the peers of England to meet and at¬
tend his majesty at York, previously to the meeting of the
long parliament, the Earl of Clarendon mentions it as a
new invention not before heard of; that is, as he explains,
so old, that it had not been practised during some hundreds
of years. But though there had not for a long time be¬
fore been an instance, nor has there been any since, of
assembling them in so solemn a manner, yet in cases of
emergency our princes have at several times thought
proper to call for and consult as many of the nobility as
could easily be brought together. This was done by
King James II. after the landing of the Prince of Orange,
and by the Prince of Orange himself before he summoned Council,
the convention parliament which afterwards called him to
the throne.
Besides this general meeting, it is usually looked upon
as the right of each particular peer of the realm to de¬
mand an audience of the king, and to lay before him, with
decency and respect, such matters.as he shall judge of im¬
portance to the public weal. And therefore, in the reign
of Edward II. it was made an article of impeachment in
parliament against the Hugh Spencers, father and son,
for which they were banished the kingdom, “ that they
by their evil covin would not suffer the great men of the
realm, the king’s good counsellors, to speak with the king,
or to come near him ; but only in presence and hearing of
said Hugh the father and Hugh the son, or one of them,
and at their will, and according to such things as pleased
them.”
A third council belonging to the king is, according to Sir
Edward Coke, composed of his judges of the courts of law,
for law matters. And this appears frequently in the Eng¬
lish statutes, particularly 14 Edward III. c. 5, and in other
books of law. So that when the king’s council is mentioned
generally, it must be defined, particularized, and understood
secundum subjectam materiem, aceording to the subject mat¬
ter; and if the subject be of a legal nature, then by the
king’s council is understood his council for matters of law,
namely, his judges. Therefore, when by statute 16 Rich¬
ard II. c. 5, it was declared a high offence to import into
England any papal bulls, or other processes, from Rome,
and when it was enacted that the offenders should be at¬
tached by their bodies, and brought before the king and
his council to answer for such offence. By the expression
of king’s council, here made use of, was understood the
king’s judges of his courts of justice, the subject-matter
being legal, and this being the general way of interpreting
the word council.
But the principal council belonging to the king is his
Privy Council, which is generally, by way of eminence,
called The Council. For an account of its constitution and
powers, see Pkivy Council.
Council of War ( Conseil de Guerre), an assembly of the
principal officers of an army or fleet, called by the general
or admiral who commands, to concert measures for their
conduct. It has been remarked that councils of war never
fight.
Council, in church history, an assembly of prelates and
doctors, convened for regulating matters relative to the
doctrine or discipline of the church.
National Council is an assembly of the prelates of a
nation under their primate or patriarch.
(Ecumenical or General Council is an assembly which
represents the body of the universal church. The Roman¬
ists reckon eighteen of these; Bullinger, in his Treatise
De Conciliis, six; and Dr Prideaux, seven: but Bishop
Beveridge has increased the number to eight, which, he
says, includes all the general councils that have ever been
held since the time of the first Christian emperor. They
are as follow: The council of Nice, held in the reign of
Constantine the Great, on account of the heresy of Arius;
the council of Constantinople, called under the reign and
by the command of Theodosius the Great, for nearly the
same purpose as the former; the council of Ephesus, con¬
vened by Theodosius the younger at the suit of Nestorius;
the council of Chalcedon, held in the reign of Martians,
which approved of the Eutychian heresy; the second
council of Constantinople, assembled by the Emperor Jus¬
tinian, which condemned the three chapters taken out of
the book of Theodorus of Mopsuestia (having first decided
that it was lawful to anathematise the dead), and also, ac¬
cording to some, the errors of Origen concerning the Tri-
430
C O U
Counsel, nity, a plurality of worlds, and the pre-existence of souls;
the third council of Constantinople, held by command
of Constantins Pogonatus, the emperor, in which were
received the definitions of the five first general councils,
and particularly that against Origen and Theodorus of
Mopsuestia; the second Nicene council; and the fourth
council of Constantinople, assembled when Louis II. was
emperor of the West. There are several collections of the
canons or decrees of councils. The most extensive and
valuable is that of Hardouin, entitled Concihorum a) -
lectio Regia maxima, edita a Joaivxe Harduiso, Soc. lesu.
Parisiis, ex typographid regia. 1715, 12 vols. folio.
COUNSEL, in a general sense, signifies advice or in¬
struction how to act in any difficult mattei.
Counsel, or Advocates, in English courts of law, aie ot
two kinds or degrees, namely, barristers and serjeants.
From both some are usually selected to be his ma-
iesty's counsel, learned in the law; the two principal of
whom are called his attorney-general and solicitor-general.
The first king’s counsel, under the degree of serjeant, was
Sir Francis Bacon, who was made so honoris causa, with¬
out either patent or fee; and the first of the modern
order, who are now the sworn servants of the crown, with
a fixed salary, seems to have been Sir Francis North,
afterwards lord keeper of the great seal to Charles II.
These king’s counsel answer in some measure to the ad¬
vocates of the revenue, advocatiJisci, among the Romans ;
for they must not be employed in any case against the
crown without special license, in which restriction they
agree with the advocates of the fisc. But in the imperial
law the prohibition was carried still farther; for, ex¬
cepting some peculiar causes, the fiscal advocates were
not permitted to be at all concerned in private suits be¬
tween subject and subject. A custom has latterly pre¬
vailed,. of granting letters patent of precedence to such
barristers as the crown thinks proper to honour with this
mark of distinction, by which they are entitled to such
rank and pre-audience as are assigned in their respective
patents, sometimes next after the king s attorney-general,
but usually next after his majesty s counsel. Ihese, as
well as the queen’s attorney and solicitor-general, rank
promiscuously with the king’s counsel, and, together with
them, sit within the bars of their respective courts; but
they receive no salaries, and are not sworn, and theiefore
are at liberty to be retained in causes against the crown.
And all other serjeants and barristers indiscriminately,
except in the court of common pleas, where only ser¬
jeants are admitted, may take upon them the protection
and defence of any suitors, whether plaintiffs or defen¬
dants, who are therefore called their clients, like the de
pendents of the ancient Roman pleaders. The latter in¬
deed practised gratis, for honour merely, or at most for the
sake of gaining influence; and so likewise it is established
with us, that a counsel can maintain no action for his
fees, which are given, not as locatio conductio, but quiddam
honorarium, not as a salary or hire, but as a mere gratuity,
which a counsellor cannot demand without doing wrong
to his reputation. The same is also laid down with regard
to advocates in the civil law, whose honorarium was di¬
rected by a decree of the senate not to exceed in any
case ten thousand sesterces, or about L.80 sterling mo¬
ney. And in order to encourage due freedom of speech
in the lawful defence of their clients, and at the same time
to check the unseemly licentiousness of prostituted and
illiberal men, a few of whom may sometimes insinuate
themselves even into the most honourable professions, it
has been held that a counsel is not answerable for any
matter spoken by him, relative to the cause in hand, and
suggested in the client’s instructions, although it should
reflect upon the reputation of another, and even prove ab-
c o u
solutely groundless; but if he mention an untruth of hisCW
own invention, or even upon instructions, if it be imperti-
nent to the cause in hand, he is then liable to an action c°;
at the suit.of the party injured. W
COUNSELLOR, in general, a person who advises ano¬
ther. Thus we say, a counsellor at law, a privy counsellor,
and the like.
Privy Counsellor. See Privy Council.
COUNT, Comes, a nobleman who possesses a domain
erected into a county. English and Scottish counts we dis¬
tinguish by the title of Earls; foreign ones still retain their
proper designation. The dignity of count is intermediate
between that of duke and baron. According to the mo¬
dern use, most plenipotentiaries and ambassadors assume
the title of counts though they have no county. Ancient¬
ly, all generals, counsellors, judges, and secretaries of
cities under Charlemagne were called counts; the dis¬
tinguishing character of a duke and count being this, that
the latter had but one town under him, whereas the for¬
mer had several.
A count has a right to bear on his arms a coronet, adorn¬
ed with three precious stones, and surmounted with three
large pearls, those in the middle and extremities of the
coronet advancing above the rest.
Counts were originally lords of the court, or of the em¬
peror’s retinue, and had their name of comites either a co-
mitando or a commeando ; and hence those who were al¬
ways in the palace, or at the emperor’s side, were called
counts palatine, or comites a latere.
In the times of the commonwealth, comites among the
Romans was a general name for all those who accompa¬
nied the proconsuls and propraetors into the provinces,
there to serve the commonwealth ; as the tribunes, pre¬
fects, scribes, and others.
Under the emperors, comites were the officers of the
palace. The origin of what we now call counts seems
to date from the time of Augustus, who took several se¬
nators as his comites, that is, to accompany him in his voy¬
ages and travels, and to assist him in the hearing of causes,
which were thus judged with the same authority as in full
senate. But Gallienus seems to have abolished this coun¬
cil, by forbidding the senators to appear in the armies; and
none of his successors re-established, it.
These counsellors of the emperor were^ really counts,
comites, or companions of the prince; and they sometimes
took the title accordingly, but always with the addition oi
the name of the emperor whom they accompanied, so
that it was rather a mark ol their office than a title of dig¬
nity. Constantine was the first who converted it into a
dignity, and under him the name was first given absolute¬
ly? But the title being once established, it was in a little
time indifferently conferred, not only on those who follow¬
ed the court, and accompanied the emperor, but also on
most kinds of officers, a long list of whom is given by Du
Cange.
Eusebius tells us that Constantine divided the counts
into three classes: the first bore the title of Must res; tno
second that of clarissimi, and afterwards spectabiles; whilst
the third were called perfectissimi. Of the first two classes
the senate was composed ; those of the third had no place
in the senate, but enjoyed several other ot the privileges
of senators.
There were counts who served on land, and others at sea,
some in a civil, some in a religious, and some in a lega
capacity; as comes cerarii, comes sacrarum lurgdionunu
comes sacri consistorii, comes curiee, comes capdlee, coma
archialrorum, comes comrnerciorum, comes vestianus, coma
horreorum, comes opsoniorum vel annonaz, comes domes ic
rum, comes equorum regiorum vel comes stabuli, comes
morum, comes excuhitorum, comes notariorum, comes
c o u
wnt
II
mnt
uwii
~T
vel professor injure, comes limitum tel marcarum, comes por-
tus Romce, comes patrimonii, and so onl
The Franks, Germans, and other nations, on passing into
ll Gaul and Germany, did not abolish the form of the Ro¬
man government; and as the governors of cities and pro¬
vinces were called counts, comites, and dukes, duces, they
continued to be so designated. They commanded during
war, and in time of peace they administered justice. Thus,
under Charlemagne, counts were the ordinary judges and
governors of the cities.
These counts of cities ranked below the dukes and counts
who presided over provinces. The counts of provinces
were in nothing inferior to dukes, who themselves were
only governors of provinces. Under the last of the second
race of French kings, their dignity was rendered heredi¬
tary, and they even usurped the sovereignty. When Hugh
Capet came to the crown, his authority was not sufficient
to oppose their encroachments; and hence it is that they
date the privilege of wearing coronets in their arms. They
assumed it then, as enjoying the rights of sovereigns in
their particular districts or counties ; but by degrees most
of the counties became reunited to the crown.
The quality of count has now become very different from
what it was anciently, being no more than a title, which a
king grants upon erecting a territory into a county, with
a reserve of jurisdiction and sovereignty to himself. At
first there was no clause in the patent of erection intimat¬
ing the reversion of the county to the crown in default of
heirs male; but Charles IX. to prevent their being too
numerous, ordained that duchies and counties, in default
of heirs male, should revert to the crown.
The point of precedence between counts and marquises
was formerly much controverted ; and the reason was, that
there were counts who were peers of France, but no mar¬
quises. The point, however, was given up, and marquises
took precedence; although anciently, when counts were
governors of provinces, they were on a level even wdth
dukes.
William the Conqueror, as is observed by Camden, gave
the dignity of counts in fee to his nobles, annexing it to
this or that county or province, and allotting for their main¬
tenance a certain proportion of money arising from the
prince’s profits in the pleadings and forfeitures of the pro¬
vinces.
The Germans call a coxtoX.graaf or graff, which properly
signifies^wc/ye, and is derived from gravio or graffio, formed
from ygutpu, I write. They have several kinds of counts or
graffs, as land-graves, march-graves, burg-graves, and pals¬
graves or counts palatine. These last are of two kinds ;
the one of the number of princes, with the investiture of
- a palatinate, while the others have only the title of count
palatine, without the investiture of any palatinate. Some
assert that, by publicly professing the imperial laws for
twenty years, a person acquires the title of count pala¬
tine; and there are instances of professors in law who
have assumed the title accordingly; but this right has been
much disputed.
COUNTER, a term which enters into the composition
of various words of our language, and generally implies op¬
position, but when applied to deeds means an exact copy
kept by the contrary party, and sometimes signed by both
parties.
Counter- Changed, in Heraldry, the intermixture or
opposition of a metal with a colour.
CovETEn-Flory, in Heraldry, is said of a tressure the
neurs-de-lis of which are opposite to others.
CouNTER-Drawing, in Painting, is the copying a design
or painting by means of a fine linen cloth, an oiled paper,
or other transparent matter, where the strokes appearing
rougH are traced with a pencil with or without colour.
c O U 431
Sometimes it is done on glass, and with frames or nets di- Counter-
vided into squares by means of silk or thread, and also Ermine
with instruments invented for the purpose, as the parallelo- II
gram. Counter-
Co in Heraldry, is the contrary of er- t ^carp^ ^
mine, being a black field with white spots.
Gounter-FoU, or Counter-Stoch, in the exchequer, that
pai t or a tally which is kept by an officer of the court.
Counter- Guard,or Counter- Guards, in Fortification, are
small ramparts with parapets and ditches to cover some
part of the body of the place. They are of several shapes,
and differently situated; but they are generally formed
before the bastions, in order to cover the opposite flanks
from being seen from the covert way, and then they con¬
sist of two faces making a salient angle, and parallel to
the faces of the bastion. They are sometimes construct¬
ed before the ravelins.
Counter-Light, or Counter-Jour, a light opposite to any
thing which makes it appear to disadvantage. A single
counter-light is sufficient to take away all the beauty of a
fine painting.
CouNTER-March, in military affairs, a change by wings,
companies, subdivisions, or files, by which those who were
on the right take up the ground originally occupied by
the left, and vice versa. It also signifies returning or
marching back again. .
CouNTER-Mine, in TVar, a well and gallery driven and
sunk until it meet the enemy’s mine, in order to prevent
its effect.
CouNTER-Paled, in Heraldry, is when the escutcheon
is divided into twelve pales parted per fesse; the two co¬
lours being counter-changed, so that the upper are of one
colour and the lower of another.
CouNTER-Part, in Music, denotes one part to be applied
to another. Thus the bass is said to be a counter-part to
the treble.
CouNTER-Passant, in Heraldry, is when two lions are
in a coat of arms, and the one seems to proceed quite the
contrary way to the other.
Counter-Point, in Music, a term derived from the La¬
tin preposition contra and the verb pungere; because the
musical characters by which the notes in each part are
signified are placed in such a manner, each with respect
to each, as to show how the parts answer to one another.
Counter-Pointed, in Heraldry, is when two chevrons in
one escutcheon meet in the points, the one rising as usual
from the base, and the other inverted falling from the chief,
so that they are counter to each other in the points. They
may also be counter-pointed when they are founded upon
the sides of the shield, and the points meet that way. This
is called counter-pointed in fesse.
CouNTER-Proof in rolling-press printing, a print taken
off from another fresh printed, which by being passed
through the press gives the figure of the former, but in¬
verted. To counter-prove is also to pass a design in black
lead or red chalk through the press, after having moist¬
ened with a sponge both that and the paper on which the
counter-proof is to be taken.
Counter-Quartered {contre-ecartele), in Heraldry, de¬
notes that the escutcheon, after being quartered, has each
quarter again divided into two.
Counter-Salient is when two beasts are borne in a
coat leaping from each other directly contrariwise.
Counterscarp, in Fortification, is properly the exterior
talus or slope of the ditch on the further side of the place,
and facing it; but it is often taken for the covered way
and the glacis. In this sense we say the enemy have
lodged themselves in the counterscarp. The angle of the
counterscarp is that formed by two sides of the counter¬
scarp meeting before the middle of the curtain.
432
C O U
Counter- Countersigning, the signing the writing of a superior
signing in quality of secretary. Thus charters are signed by the
li kino-, and countersigned by a secretary of state or loid
Courayer. chanceuor.
Counter- Time, in the manege, is the defence or resist¬
ance of a horse that interrupts his cadence and the mea¬
sure of his manege, occasioned either by a bad horseman
or by the malice of a horse.
COUNTORS, Countours, or Counters, lias been
used for serjeants at law retained to defend a cause, or to
speak for their client in any course of law.
It is of these Chaucer speaks :
A sheriff had he been, and a countour,
y\ras nowhere such a worthy vavasour.
They were anciently called serjeant counlours.
COUNTRY, among geographers, is used indifferently
to denote either a kingdom, province, or lesser district.
But its most frequent use is in contradistinction to town.
Country-Dance is of English origin, though now trans¬
planted into almost all the countries and courts of Europe.
There is no established rule for the composition of tunes
to this dance, because there is in music no kind of time
whatever which may not be measured by the motions
common in dancing; and there are few song tunes of any
note within the last century which have not been applied
to country dances. . . „ • -c i ;
COUNTY, in Geography, originally signified the teui-
tory of a count or earl, but now it is used in the same
sense with shire ; the one word coming from the breneli,
the other from the Saxon. In this view, a county is a
circuit or portion of the realm ; and the whole of England
and Wales is divided, for its better government and the
more easy administration of justice, into fifty-two counties.
For the execution of the laws in the several counties,
excepting Cumberland, Westmoreland, and Durham, every
Michaelmas term officers are appointed under the deno¬
mination o?sheriffs. The other officers of the several coun¬
ties are, lord-lieutenant, who has the command of the mi¬
litia of the county, custodes rotulorum, justices of peace,
bailiffs, high constable, and coroner.
Of the fifty-two counties, there are three of special note,
which are therefore termed counties palatine, as Lancas¬
ter, Chester, and Durham. ^ ^ .
COUPAR, or Cupar, of Angus. See Cupar of Angus.
Coupar, or Cupar, of Fife. See Cupar of Fife.
COUPLET, a division of a hymn, ode, song, or the like,
iu which an equal number or equal measure of verses is
found in each part. The divisions in odes are called
strophes. Couplet, by an abuse of the word, is irequenty
made to signify a couple of verses.
COURANT, a French term synonymous with current,
and properly signifying running. See Current. .
Courant is also a term in music and dancing, being
used to express both the tune or air and the dance. U ith
regard to the first, courant or currant is a piece of music
in triple time ; and the air of the courant is ordinarily noted
in triples of minims, the parts to be repeated twice. It
begins and ends when he who beats the measure falE his
hands, in contradistinction to the saraband, which ordina¬
rily ends when the hand is raised. With regard to dan¬
cing, the courant was. long the most common of all the
dances practised in England. It consists essentially of a
time, a step, a balance, and a coupee, though it also admits
of other motions. Formerly dancers leaped their steps ;
in which point the courant differed from the low dance and
pavades. There are simple courants and figured courants,
all danced by two persons. ^ .
COURAYER, Peter Francis, a Roman Catholic cler¬
gyman, distinguished for great moderation, charity, and
temper concerning religious affairs, as well as for learning,
’ 'll
c o u
was born at Vernon, in Normandy, in 1681. While canon
regular and librarian of the abbey of St Genevieve at
Paris, he applied to Archbishop Wake for the resolution
of some doubts concerning the episcopal succession in
England, and the validity of our ordinations; having been
encouraged to this by the! friendly correspondence which
had passed between the archbishop and M. Dupin of the
Sorbonne. The archbishop sent him exact copies of the
proper records ; and on these he built his Defence of Eng¬
lish Ordinations, which was published in Holland in 1727.
This exposed him to a prosecution in his own country;
he therefore took refuge in England, where he was well
received, and presented the same year by the university
of Oxford with a doctor’s degree. As it is somewhat un¬
common for a Roman Catholic clergyman to be admitted
to degrees in divinity by Protestant universities, the cu¬
rious will find the diploma, with the doctor s letter of
thanks, in The present State of the Republic of Letters,
for June 1728. In 1736 he translated into French and
published Father Paul’s History of the Council of Trent,
in 2 vols. folio, and dedicated it to Queen Caroline, who
augmented to L.200 a pension of L.100 a year, which he
had previously obtained from the court. The leafned Je¬
remy Maryland, in a letter to his friend Bowyef, in Sep¬
tember 1756, says, “ Mr Clarke has given me F. Couray-
er’s translation of the History of the Council of Tient,
with whose preface I am so greatly pleased, that if he be
no more a papist in other tenets than he is in those he
mentions, which are many, and of the most distinguishing
class, I dare say there are very few considerate Protest¬
ants who are not as good Catholics as he is. His works
are many, and all in French. He translated Sleidan s His¬
tory of the Reformation. Courayer died in 1776, after
two days’ illness, at the age of ninety-five, and was buried
in the cloister of Westminster Abbey- In his will, dated
3d February 1774, he declares that he “ dies a member
of the Catholic church, but without approving of many
of the opinions and superstitions w’hich have been intro¬
duced into the Romish church, and taught in their schools
and seminaries, and which they have insisted on as ar¬
ticles of faith, though to him they appear to be not only
not founded in truth, but also to be highly improbable.”
And his practice was conformable to this declaration; for
at London he constantly went to mass, and at Ealing, in
the country, whither he often retired, he as constantly at¬
tended the service of the parish church, declaring at all
times that he had great satisfaction in the prayers of the
church of England.
COURIER (from the French courir, to run), a mes¬
senger sent post, or express, to carry dispatches.
The ancients, too, had their couriers. We meet with
two kinds; first, those who ran on foot, called by the
Greeks hemerodromi, or couriers of a day, regarding whom
Pliny, Cornelius Nepos, and Caesar mention that some ot
them would run twenty, thirty, thirty-six. and in the circus
even forty leagues per day ; second, riding couriers [cur-
sores equitantes), who changed horses as the modern cou¬
riers do. . rr
Xenophon attributes the first couriers to Cyrus. Hero¬
dotus says they were very common among the Persians,
and that there was nothing in the world more swnt tian
these kind of messengers. That prince, says Xenophon,
examined how far a horse would go in a day, and bum
stables, at such distances from each other, where he lodgea
horses, with persons to take care of them; and at eac
place he kept a person always ready to take the pacm,
mount a fresh horse, and forward it to the next stage, ana
thus quite through his empire. r- nns
But it does not appear that either the Greeks or Roma
had any regular fixed couriers till the time ol Augus
c o U C O U 433
nd Under that prince they travelled in cars, though it would and chapters, archdeacons, and others, are directed there- Courts
appear that they afterwards went on horseback. Under to. The dean of the arches has also a peculiar iurisdiction Baron
of the western empire they were called viatores ; and under over thirteen parishes in London, called a deanery which II
s- that of Constantinople cursores, whence the modern name, are exempt from the authority of the Bishop of London Coutances-
^tJ^rrrjV a xm • c • i r> i • o and of which the parish of Bow (de arcufous) is the prin-
COURLAND, a province of Russia, on the Baltic Sea. cipal. The persons concerned in this court are the iudse
It was a Dutch dependent on Poland till 1795, when it advocates, registrars, proctors, &c.; and the appeal from
fell under the power of Russia, but still retained its old it is to the king in chancery. 11
name, and most ofits laws,manners, and religion. It extends Courts-Baron. A baron whose land had been erected
from north to south from the latitude 55° 37' to that of by the king in liberam baroniam, had a jurisdiction both
57° 33', and from east to west from longitude 20° 48' to civil and criminal, which he might exercise either in his
26° 5', covering about 9950 square miles. It contains own person or by his bailie. But this jurisdiction was by
eleven cities, seven market-towns, and 756 villages. The the heritable jurisdiction act, 20 Geo. II. c. 43, reduced to
last calculation makes the number of inhabitants amount the right of recovering from his vassals and tenants the
to 568,690; but as that was made twenty-two years ago, feu-duties and rents of the land, and compelling them to
they have probably since increased. The greater part of perform the services which they maybe bound to render,
the inhabitants are of the German race, and adhere to the and to the right of deciding in civil questions where the debt
Lutheran church, but about one third are of the Roman or damage does not exceed forty shillings, beyond which
Catholic persuasion. Ihe old nobility, who are chiefly his civil jurisdiction cannot be prorogated. The criminal
Germans or Poles, retain the exclusive privileges they en- jurisdiction is, by the same statute, limited to assaults
joyed under their former government. batteries, and smaller offences, which may be punished
The greater part of the province is sandy, and for the by a fine not exceeding twenty shillings, recoverable by
most pai t level, and far fiom feitile; but some spots are poinding, or, in default of goods, commutable into one
highly productive of rye, barley, and oats, with small por- month’s imprisonment at the utmost. But this jurisdiction
tions of wheat, peas, and tobacco. The cultivation is has been subjected to so many regulations and restrictions,
easy, as most of the land is ploughed with a single horse, that it is seldom or never exercised by the baron.
A considerable quantity of flax and hemp is grown, and CoimT-Martial, a court appointed for the punishment of
these articles form the chief exports. There are few ma- offences in officers, soldiers, and sailors. The powers of
nufactures, except such as are carried on by the proprie- courts-martial in this country are regulated by the mutiny-
tors on their own lands, for their own use, and by their bill. J y
own workmen, who furnish the nobles with clothing, fur- There are other courts'of different kinds, which are no-
mture, and instruments of industry. The chief city is ticed under their appropriate denominations throughout
Mittau, where the few colonial goods that are consumed the work. °
arniXrmt,^ „ COURTHEZON, a city of the department of Vau-
COURi 1LRL, a city of the department of the Puy de cluse, in France, where are some silk mills, and 2364 inha-
Dome, in Fiance, with 304 houses, and 3168 inhabitants, bitants, and near to which are some natural salt springs
COURT, an appendage to a house or habitation, consist- forming a lake from which common salt is made ^ ’
ingof a piece of ground inclosed with walls, but open above. COURTRAY, a city of West Flanders, the capital of
Court is also used for the palace or place where a king a circle of the same name. It is situated on the river Lys
or sovereign prince resides. _ and contains 2000 houses, with 13,980 inhabitants, who are
Court, in a legal sense, is defined a place in which jus- industriously employed in various manufactures. The finest
tice is judicially administered. And as by our constitution linen is woven by the peasantry in the neighbouring vil-
the sole executive power of the laws is vested in the per- lages, and brought to the city to be bleached and finished,
son of the king, it follows that all courts of justice, which Some of the finest lace-making threads are spun here, and
are the medium by which he administers the laws, are de- much lace is made. There are also extensive works for
rived from the power of the crown. For whether created printing calicoes, besides refineries for sugar, distilleries,
byact of parliament or by letters patent, or subsisting by tanneries, breweries, and dyeing houses. The council-
prescription (the only methods by which any court of ju- house, the exchange, and some of the churches, are much
dicature can exist), the king’s consent in the two former distinguished, particularly the church of Notre Dame and
is expressly, and in the latter impliedly given. In all these of St Martin.
courts the king is supposed, in contemplation of law, to be COUSIN, a term of relation between the children of
always present; but as that is in fact impossible, he is brothers and sisters, who in the first generation are called
there represented by his judges, whose power is only an comins-german, in the second generation, second cousins,
emanation of the royal prerogative. and so on. If sprung from the relations by the father’s side!
for the more speedy, universal, and impartial adminis- they are denominated cousins; if on the mother’s,
tration of justice between subject and subject, the law matertial. The word is commonly derived from consan-
has appointed a variety of courts, some with a more li- guineus; though Menage deduces it from congenius, or
mited, others with a more extensive jurisdiction ; some congeneus, q. d. ex eodem genere.
constituted to inquire only, others to hear and determine ; COUTANCES, an arrondissement of the department
some to determine in the first instance, others upon ap- of La Manche, in France. It extends over 575 square
peal and by way of review. _ miles. The division is into ten cantons, which are sub-
touRT of Arches ( Curia deArcubus), the chief and most divided into 139 communes ; and the inhabitants amount
ancient consistory court belonging to the archiepiscopal see to 140,587. The capital, a city of the same name, is si-
°t Canterbury, for the debating of spiritual causes. It is so tuated at the confluence of the rivers Bulsard and Soulle,
called from the church of St Mary le Bow (de arcubus), on a declivity. It contains a cathedral, considered as a
where it was formerly held. The judge of this court, styled masterpiece of Gothic architecture, three other churches,
the Dean of the Arches, or the Official of the Arches Court, 1150 houses, and 7874 inhabitants, who find employment
has jurisdiction in all ecclesiastical causes except such as in woollen manufactures, and in thread-lace. Near to it
belong to the prerogative court; and all manner of appeals is an aqueduct considered as the work of the Romans,
rom bishops or their chancellors or commissaries, deans Long. 1. 32. 20. W. Lat. 49. 2. 50. N.
vol. vn. ° Q .
434
Couthut-
laugh
II
Covenant.
COY
COUTHUTLAUGH, from the Saxon couth, knowing,
and utlaugh, outlaw, he who wittingly receives a man out¬
lawed, and cherishes or conceals him ; for which oftence he
was in ancient times subject to the same punishment wit i
the outlaw himself. . ,
COUTRAS, a city of the department of the uiromie,
in France, situated at the influx of the Dronne into the
Isle, which thus becomes navigable. It contains 658house ,
and 3060 inhabitants. Long. 0. 13. W. Lat 45. 4. N.
COVE, a town of Ireland, in the county of Cork, beau
tifully situated on Cork harbour, which lies e even mi es
from the city. From an obscure fishing village it has
COW
both nations, who thereby solemnly abjured popery and Cove
prelacy, and combined together for their mutual defence. ||'
It was approved by the parliament and assembly at West-Cowb f.
minster, and ratified by the general assembly of Scotland W*
in 1645. King Charles I. disapproved of it when he sur¬
rendered himself to the Scottish army in 1646; but in
1650 Charles II. by a solemn oath declared his approba¬
tion both of this and of the national covenant; and in Au¬
gust the same year he made a further declaration at Dun¬
fermline to the same purpose, which was also renewed on
the occasion of his coronation at Scone in 1651. The co-
venant was ratified by the parliament this year, and the
iiuiu \,h\j —  —’ • 1 • . ~ t! r.r>ncicfq subscription of it required by every member ; it being de-
risen to be a populous and flourishing tow. ^ ^ ^ cIared £hat without such subscription the constitution of
of one main street and several xmnoi o , ^ thp parliament was null and void. This is not the place to
above the other on the side of a steep hilba h^_ entelr int0 any details respecting the troubles and distrac-
ing the grand basin and capable of tions which subsequently arose, and were ascribed by the
hour is spacious, completely ^ ntPn,lf.hor ruling party to the Covenant, which was accordingly de-
largest class can ride safely close to the ninety-two miles from London" The streets are narrow
advantageous position of the asyium for l p adva^ge and iU built, and the whole has a very gloomy appearance.
Indian trade is fully appreciated. It is t^ d ]tT There are some handsome churches, especially St Mi-
of its cove that Cork c.,y ow«.U greatoess ad wealth, ^ ^ of which is object 0f great admiration
and to the same cause it is imeiy to u e t Tjie inhabitants are occupied in manufactories, of which
commercial rank. Instan in the that of ribbons is the most extensive. Other silk goods
COVELONG, a town and fortress^ Hindustan in th6 tnat^ thousand watc]ies of gold and
south of India, on the coast of Carna c, •[)een silver are annually produced. It has several charitable in¬
miles south of Madras. It was bmlt by A 1 stitutions, which are under the management and patron-
Friday. The inhahitan, amounted in 1811 ,o
taken by the English in 1752, when its fort.fications were
demolished. Long. 80. 21. E. Lot. 12. 44. Is.
COVENANT, in ecclesiastical history, denotes the con¬
tract or convention agreed to. by the Scotch in the year
1638, for maintaining their religion against innovation.
In 1581 the General Assembly of Scotland drew up a
confession of faith, or national covenant, condemning epis¬
copal government, under the name of hierarchy, which
was signed by James I. and enjoined upon all bis subjects.
It was^again subscribed!^ ^b^*criberVengaged ^otection of her husband. .
tion was renewed in 1638, and the suhscime b b 1 Covert w in Fortification, is a space of five or six
by oath to maintain religion in t ie same state VV fathoms on the border of the ditch towards the country,
existed in 1580, and to re ect all and covered by a rising ground which has a gentle slope
S ^‘r-lhe^r‘of th^r?: ^ fiey,d. l-gelpe is caned the g.acis of Ihe
subscribed it were called Covenanters.
Covenant, in Theolog;/, is much used m connection
with other terms. The Covenant of Grace is that which
is made between God and those who believe the gospel,
by which they declare their subjection to him, and he de¬
clares his acceptance of and favour for them, ihe gospe
is sometimes denominated a covenant of grace, in opposi- a renam iul tf^nantToids in prejudice of
tion to the Mosaic law. Covenant of Redemption denotes recover the land c the tenant V ) ^
w'ordfliea corruption of the Latin convention, and there-
previously to any act on Christ’s part in the character of fore writes it ^ when |louses are built pro-
mate m> express provWoii for the pardon of offences to be COVINUS, among the ancents, a km
committed against the precepts of it on the repentance
of such supposed offenders, but pronounces a sentence ot
death upon them. Such, they say, was the covenant made
with Adam in a state of innocence, and also that made
was estahHshed in the ^
     The inhabitants amounted in 1811 to
17,923, in 1821 to 21,242, and in 1831 to 27,070. _
COVERIPANK, a town in the south of India, in the
Carnatic, nine miles east of Arcot. A victory was there
gained by the British over the French and their allies m
1754. Long. 79. 37. E. Lat. 12. 52. N.
COVERIPORAM, a fortress of the south of India, in
the district of Coimbetoor, and on the western bank of the
Cavery river. Long. 77. 54. E. Lat. 11. 49. N.
COVERT, in Law. Femme Covert or Couverte, de¬
notes a woman married, and so under the coverture or
covert wayj , , ,
COVERTURE, in Zaw, is applied to the state and con¬
dition of a married woman, who is under the power of er
husband, and therefore called/emme couverte.
COVIN, a deceitful compact or agreement between two
or more to deceive or prejudice a third person, ihus, i
a tenant for life conspire with another, that this other shall
died with timber, latneu, anu piasaeicu.
COVINUS, among the ancients, a kind of chariot,
which the Gauls and Britons used to fight in ba1;t!es-
COWARD, in Heraldry, a term given to a hon.Dor '
in an escutcheon, with his tail doubled, or turned in De¬
tween his legs. _„n jn
COWBR1DGE, a town of the county of Glamorgan, i
_ r* T 1 T 4- ^^vvioiorc OT Ollt/
Co
COW
terwards converted into a university, and some strong
castles. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 759, in
1811 to 850, and in 1821 to 1107. It has a market, which
' is held on Thursday.
COWEL, Dr John, a learned civilian, was born about
the year 1554. In 1607 he compiled a Law Dictionary,
which gave great offence to Sir Edward Coke and the com¬
mon lawyers, who first accused him to James I. of assert¬
ing that the king’s prerogative was in some cases limited ;
and when they failed in this attempt, complained of him
to the House of Commons, as a betrayer of the rights of
the people, by asserting that the king was not bound by
the laws; for which he was committed to custody, and his
book publicly burnt. He also published Institutiones Juris'
Anglicani, in the manner of Justinian’s Institutes; and
died in the operation for the stone, in 1611.
COWES, West, a market and sea-port town of the Isle
of Wight, in Hampshire, pleasantly situated on the shore,
near the mouth of the river Medina. In time of war, be¬
ing the common rendezvous for merchant ships waiting for
convoy, it is very flourishing. At present it is mainly sup¬
ported by company resorting to it for the purpose of sea¬
bathing. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 2771, in
1811 to 3825, and in 1821 to 3579.
COWL, or Coul, a sort of monkish habit worn by the
Bernardines and Benedictines. The word is formed from
cucullus, by running the first two syllables into one. There
are two kinds of cowls; the one white, and very large,
worn in ceremony, and when they assist at the office; the
other black, worn on ordinary occasions in the streets, &c.
Mabillon maintains that in its origin the cowl was the
same with the scapular. The author of the apology of the
Emperor Henry IV. distinguishes two forms of cowls;
the one, a gown reaching to the feet, having sleeves, and
a capuchin, used in ceremonies ; the other, a kind of hood
to work in, called also a scapular, because it only covered
the head and shoulders.
COWL DOORG, or Durga, a town and fortress of
Hindustan, in the district of Bednore. The town consists
of 200 houses, besides the fort, which is situated at some
distance, and more regularly constructed than the genera¬
lity of hill forts. The surrounding country is covered with
thick forests. Long. 75. 11. E. Lat. 13. 17. N.
COWLEY, Abraham, an eminent poet, was born at
London in 1618. His father, who was a grocer, having
died before he was born, his mother procured him admis¬
sion as a king’s scholar at Westminster. His first inclina¬
tion to poetry arose on his lighting on Spenser’s Fairy
Queen, when he was but just able to read; and this incli¬
nation so far improved on him, that at thirteen he began
to write several poems; a collection of which was pub¬
lished in 1613, when he was only fifteen. He has been
represented as possessed of so bad a memory that his
teachers could never bring him to retain the ordinary
rules of grammar. But the fact was, as Dr Johnson no¬
tices, not that he could not learn or retain the rules, but
that being able to perform his exercises without them, he
spared himself the trouble. In 1636 he was elected a
scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge, and removed to that
university. Here he went through all his exercises with
a remarkable degree of reputation ; and at the same time
indulged his poetical turn with great eagerness, as it ap¬
pears that the greater part of his poems were written
betore he left that university. He had taken his degree
ol master of arts before 1643, when, in consequence of
the turbulence of the times, he, among others, was ejected
from the college; upon which, retiring to Oxford, he en¬
tered himself of St John’s College, and that very year,
tinder the denomination of a Scholar of Oxford, published
a satire called the Puritan and the Papist. It is apparent,
cow
435
however, that he did not remain very long at Oxford; Cowley,
for his zeal in tne royal cause having engaged him in the ■
service of the king, who was very sensible of his abilities,
and by whom he was frequently employed, he attended
his majesty in many of his journeys and expeditions, and
gained not only the esteem of his sovereign, but that of
many other great personages, and in particular of Lord
Falkland, one of the principal secretaries of state.
During the heat of the civil war he was settled in the
Earl of St Albans’ family; and when the queen-mother
was obliged to retire into France, he accompanied her
thither, laboured strenuously in the affairs of the royal
family, undertook several very dangerous journeys on their
account, and was the principal instrument in maintaining
an epistolary correspondence between the king and queen,
whose letters he ciphered and deciphered with his own
hand. His poems were published at London in 1647 ;
and his comedy called The Guardian, afterwards altered
and published under the title of Cutter of Coleman Street,
in 1650. In 1656 it was thought proper by those on whom
Mr Cowley depended, that" he should come over into
England, and, under pretence of privacy and retirement,
should give notice of the posture of affairs in this nation.
Upon his return he published a new edition of all his
poems, consisting of four parts, viz. 1. Miscellanies; 2.
I he Mistress, or several copies of Love-verses; 3. Pin¬
daric Odes, written in imitation of the style and manner -
of Pindar; 4. Davideis, a sacred poem of the troubles of
David, in four books.
Soon after his arrival, however, he was seized by offi¬
cers in quest of another gentleman of considerable note in
the king’s party; but although he was taken through mis¬
take, yet when the republicans found that all their at¬
tempts to bring him over to their party proved ineffec¬
tual, he was committed to a severe confinement, and it
was with considerable difficulty that he obtained his liber¬
ty; when, having ventured back to France, he remained
there, in his former situation, till near the time of the
king’s return. During his stay in England he wrote his
Two Books of Plants, published first in 1662; to which he
afterwards added four books more; and the whole six,
together with his other Latin poems, were printed at Lon¬
don in 1678. It appears by Mr Wood’s Fasti Oxonienses,
that our poet was created doctor of physic at Oxford on
the 2d December 1657.
Soon after the restoration he became possessed of a
competent estate, through the favour of his principal
friends the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of St Al¬
bans; and being now upwards of forty years of age, he
formed a resolution to pass the remainder of a life which
had been a scene of tempest and tumult, in studious re¬
tirement. His eagerness to escape from the bustle of a
court and city made him less careful than he might have
been in the choice of a healthful habitation in the coun¬
try; for which reason he found his solitude, from the
beginning, suit less with the constitution of his body than
with that of his mind. His first rural residence was at
Barn Elms; a place which, lying low, and being near a
large river, was subject to a variety of breezes from land
and water, and liable in the winter to great inconvenience
from the dampness of the soil. The consequence of this
Mr Cowley too soon experienced, by being seized with
a dangerous and lingering fever. On his recovery he
removed to Chertsey, a situation not much more healthy,
where he had not been long when he was seized with
another consuming disease. Having languished under this
for several months, he at length became convalescent, and
seemed pretty well recovered from the bad symptoms,
when one day in the heat of summer 1667, having staid
too long in the fields to give some directions to his la-
436
COW
COW
Cowper. bourers, he caught a severe cold, which was attended
with a defluxion and stoppage in his breast; and for want
of timely care, and by refusing advice till it was past re¬
medy, he departed this life on the 28th of July 1667, be¬
ing in the forty-ninth year of his age. On the 3d of Au¬
gust following he was interred in Westminster Abbey, near
the ashes of Chaucer and his beloved Spenser. He was
a man of a very amiable character, as well as of striking
but very peculiar genius. King Charles II. on the news
of his death, declared, that Mr Cowley had not left a bet¬
ter man behind him in England. A monument was erect¬
ed to his memory by George Vilhers, duke of Bucking-
haBesides the works already mentioned, Mr Cowley wrote,
A Proposition for the Advancement of Experimental Phi¬
losophy; A Discourse by way of Vision, concerning the
Government of Oliver Cromwell; and several ^courses
by way of Essays, in Prose and Verse. Mr Cowley had
designed also a discourse concerning Style, and a review
of the Principles of the Primitive Christian Church, but
he was prevented by death from carrying his intentions
into effect. A spurious piece, entitled The Iron Age,
was published under Mr Cowley’s name during his ab¬
sence ; and, in Mr Dryden’s Miscellaneous Poems, we find
a poem on the Civil War, said to be written by our author,
but not extant in any edition of his works. An edition
of his works in three vols. 8vo was published by Dr bpratt,
afterwards bishop of Rochester, who also prefixed to it an
account of the author s life.
The moral character of Mr Cowley appears, from every
account of it, to have been excellent. “ He is repre¬
sented by Dr Spratt,” says Dr Johnson, “ as the most
amiable of mankind; and this posthumous praise may be
safelv credited, as it has never been contradicted by envy
or by faction.” Speaking of him as a writer of prose, Dr
Johnson observes, that “ his style has a smooth and pla¬
cid equality, which has never yet obtained its due com¬
mendation. Nothing is far sought or hard laboured; but
all is easy without feebleness, and familiar without gross¬
ness ” With regard to his poetry, Dr Johnson concludes
his criticism by observing, “ that he brought to Ins poetic
labours a mind replete with learning, and that his pas¬
sages are embellished with all the ornaments which books
could supply ; that he was the first who imparted to Eng¬
lish numbers the enthusiasm of the greater ode and the
gaiety of the less; and he was qualified for sprightly sal¬
lies and for lofty flights; that he was among those who
freed translation from servility, and, instead of following
his author at a distance, walked by his side; and that
though he had left versification yet improveable, he left
likewise from time to time such specimen^ of excellence
as enabled succeeding poets to improve it.
COWPER, William, a distinguished English poet,
was born at Berkhamstead, in Hertfordshire, on the 26th of
November 1731. His father, who was rector of the parish,
was nephew to Lord Chancellor Cowper, and chaplain to
George II. At six years of age Cowper was taken from
under the care of a mother whose amiable qualities were
afterwards commemorated in one of his loveliest poems, and
placed at a school in Bedfordshire. The poet had received
from nature a mind so remarkably sensitive as to render him
incapable of bearing up under the common hardships of life.
The arrows of affliction, which are shared by all, were poi¬
soned to him, and the lightest of them cankered where it
fell. It was his misfortune to be early tried at school, and
the sufferings he endured, particularly from a school-fel¬
low, an embryo tyrant of fifteen, embitteied his opinion of
public education ever afterwards. The impression which
these wrongs made upon him survived the vicissitudes
of half a century, and were embodied in his Tirocinium.
consuiaiuiv Vicrro J J- - ,
guage, the arrows with which his “panting side was cliar-
ged” with “ gentle force” had been extracted from the
“ stricken deer.” In June 1765 he repaired to Huntingdon,
where he settled in lodgings, attended by a man se,v®"
who had followed him from his last residence out ot pure
attachment. For four months he continued alone among
strangers; for although he was occasionally visited n.
From the age of eight to nine he was boarded with an Co..
oculist, on account of a complaint in his eyes. He Was f
then sent to Westminster, where he continued until he
was eighteen, when he removed to the office of a London
solicitor.
By his own account his time was there spent in extreme
idleness. After serving three years in the house of the so¬
licitor, he went into chambers in the Temple; but his hours
were devoted to other pursuits than those connected with
his profession, which he had rather attached himself to
from a sense of duty than adopted from choice. At this
period he translated some pieces from Horace, and as¬
sisted Lloyd and Colman with some prose effusions for
their periodical works. Without charging Cowper with
intemperance at this time, it may be said that he lived
as a man of the world. He formed a segment of a gay
and convivial circle, composed of men distinguished for
their wit and talent; and for these qualities he was him¬
self by them highly admired and esteemed in return.
His circumstances, however, soon compelled him to cast
about for a situation, and by the influence of a powerful
friend and relation he was appointed to the lucrative.office
of clerk to the committees of the House of Lords; but
his natural antipathy to serve in any thing like a public
capacity caused the appointment to be changed to that
of clerk of the journals in the same house. But the pros¬
pect of easy competency thus opened up to him was com¬
pletely darkened by the approaches of that dreadful cala¬
mity which afterwards entirely eclipsed his reason. Du¬
ring several months he attended at the house and exa¬
mined the books, in order to gain the knowledge neces¬
sary to qualify for the clerkship. The progress he made
will be best learned from his own words. “ The journal
books,” says he, “ were indeed thrown open to me, a thing
which could not be refused, and from which perhaps a
man in health, and with a head turned to business, might
have gained all the information he wanted; but it was not
so with me. I read without perception, and was so dis¬
tressed, that had every clerk in the office been my friend
it could have availed me little ; for I was not in a condi¬
tion to receive instruction, much less to elicit it out of the
manuscripts without direction.” A strong opposition to
his friend’s right of nomination had begun to show itself;
and as every advantage was sought for to disconcert him,
Cowper expected to be examined at the bar of the house.
To pass with eclat through this, to him, terrible ordeal,
he was preparing himself, as we have seen. As the day
of trial drew nigh his agonies increased, till they at last
fairly unsettled his brain. On the day appointed for his
examination his friend called upon him, and found ms
protege in a state too deplorable to be dwelt upon. He
had attempted suicide, and the fearful insignia of self-de¬
struction lay scattered about his apartment. These.were,
a garter, which had been broken, and an iron rod across
his bed, which had been bent in the effort to accomplish
his purpose by strangulation.
In this dreadful state of mind he was removed to the
house of Dr Cotton of St Albans, with whom he continu¬
ed for nineteen months. His faculties, however, had be¬
gun to return within less than the halt of that time; an
his religious despondency, which added a fearful contri¬
bution to his malady, had begun to give way before more
consolatory views of faith and piety. In his own nne an
tKo arrnwe with which his “ oanting side was cnar-
c o w
few neighbours, he rather declined than sought society ;
J and the consequence was, that his spirits began again to
sink. He found himself, he says, “ like a traveller in the
midst of an inhospitable desert, without a friend to com¬
fort or a guide to direct him.” Both of these, however,
were soon supplied to him in the person of Mr tfnwin, the
son of the clergyman of the place, who, struck with Cow-
per’s interesting appearance at church, introduced himself
to his acquaintance, and finally brought him as a boarder
into the bosom of his own amiable family. This was the
most fortunate event which could have happened to the
poet. The religious sentiments of the Unwins were pecu¬
liarly in unison with his own ; and their routine of life was
in every respect calculated to gratify his religious zeal, to
restore to his feeble nerves their wonted tension, and to
bis mind that serenity and repose which, if not perfect
calm, was as near an approach to it as could well be ex¬
pected in one so singularly constituted. After the death
of Mr Unwin, senior, in 1767, he accompanied Mrs Un¬
win and her daughter to a new residence which they had
chosen at Obey, in Buckinghamshire. Here he formed
an intimate friendship with the Rev. John Newton, then
curate of the parish, to whose collection of hymns he
added several compositions of a very superior character,
and which were published long before he was publicly
known as a votary of the muses.
In 1770, Cowper’s fraternal feelings received a severe
shock by the death of his brother John, whom he tenderly
loved. Three years afterwards his awful malady returned,
accompanied with violent paroxysms of religious despon¬
dency, and his faculties were again doomed to suffer an
eclipse, which lasted for about five years. During this
melancholy period Mrs Unwin ministered to him with
maternal patience and tenderness. Upon his second re¬
covery he busied himself with taming hares and making
bird-cages, and other similar amusements. Landscape¬
drawing also engaged his attention; and, what was of far
more importance to the world, he began seriously and with
assiduity to cultivate his poetic powers. The winter of
1780-81 was spent in preparing a volume for the press,
consisting of Table Talk, Hope, The Progress of Error,
Charity, &c. which was published in 1782. Its reception
was far below its merits, but the expectations of the au¬
thor were modest, and he can scarcely be said to have
been disappointed when it is known that he ranked Dr
Johnson and Benjamin Franklin among his zealous ad¬
mirers. Their authority was certainly a sufficient balance-
weight against that of the sapient critic who, in reviewing
the volume, remarked, that Cowper was a good pious man,
but destitute of one spark of poetic fire. When we take
into consideration the character of that school of poetry
which was almost universally cultivated and read from the
I time of Pope to the advent of Cowper, it is not at all sur¬
prising that the latter should have failed to make an im¬
mediate general impression. His poems displayed a wide
departure from the dogmas of that school. The versifica¬
tion was deficient in that polish and harmony where sound
is too often introduced as a substitute for vigour and
strength. There was a familiarity of diction, a colloquial
style of expression, which was quite original, and little
likely to obtain quarter with those who had been so long
habituated to consider sonorous grandiloquence as an in¬
dispensable requisite in poetry. There can be no doubt,
however, that although Cowper’s verses wanted “ the
long resounding march,” they had no lack of the “ energy
divine. Ihe rind was rough and unpromising, but it in¬
closed the genuine fruit of the Hesperides.
b the same year in which Cowper published his first
volume, an addition was made to the family circle of 01-
aey, by the arrival of an elegant and accomplished lady,
cow
the wfidow of Sir Robert Austin. This acquaintance
proved very delightful to the poet. She had wit, gaiety,
agreeable manners, and elegant taste. At her suggestion
Cowper began his great original poem the Task, and also
the translation of Homer. Mrs Unwin, however, grew
jealous of the influence which Lady Austin had obtain¬
ed over the mind of the poet, and it became necessary
for him at last to sacrifice her society. In 1784 the
Task appeared, and completely established his fame. The
occasion which gave rise to it was exceedingly trivial.
Lady Austin had requested him to write a piece in blank
verse, and gave him for its subject a thing next to her,
namely, the sofa. This he expanded into one of the finest
moral poems our language has produced. It is written in
blank verse as desired; and though in that respect it re¬
sembles Milton’s, it is nevertheless original and highly
characteristic. It is not too stately for familiar descrip¬
tion, nor too depressed for sublime and elevated imagery.
If it has any fault, it is that of being too much laden with
idiomatic expression ; a fault which the author, in the
rapidity with which his ideas and his utterance seem to
have flowed, very naturally incurred. In this poem his
fancy disported wfith the most excursive freedom. The
poet enlarges upon his topics, and confirms his argument
byr every variety of illustration. But he never dwells
upon them too long, and leaves off in such a manner, that
it seems it was in his power to have said more. The
arguments of the poem are various. The works of nature,
the associations with which they exhibit themselves, the
designs of Providence, and the passions of men. Of one
advantage the writer has amply availed himself. The
work not being rigidly confined to any precise subject, he
has indulged himself in all the laxity and freedom of a
miscellaneous poem ; yet he has still adhered so faithfully
to the general laws of congruity, that whether he inspires
the softer affections into his reader, or delights him with
keen and playful raillery, or discourses on the ordinary
manners of human nature, or holds up the bright pictures
of religious consolation to his mind, he adopts, at pleasure,
a diction just and appropriate, equal in elevation to the
sacred effusions of pious rapture, and sufficiently easy and
familiar for descriptions of domestic life ; skilful alike in
soaring without effort, and in descending without mean¬
ness. He who desires to put into the hands of youth a
poem which, not destitute of poetical embellishment, is yet
free from all matter of a licentious tendency, will find in
the Task a book adapted to his purpose. It would be ab¬
surd and extravagant austerity to condemn those poetical
productions in which love constitutes the leading feature.
That passion has in every age been the concernment of life,
the theme of the poet, and the plot of the stage. Yet there
is a kind of amorous sensibility, bordering on morbid en¬
thusiasm, which the youthful mind too often imbibes from
the glowing sentiments of the poets. Their genius de¬
scribes, in the most splendid colours, the operations of a
passion which requires rebuke rather than incentive, and
lends to the most grovelling sensuality the enchantments
of a rich and creative imagination. But in the Task of
Cowper there is no licentiousness of description. All is
grave, majestic, and moral. A vein of sober thinking per¬
vades every page, and, in finished poetry, he describes the
insufficiency and vanity of human pursuits. Not that he
is always severe. He frequently enlivens the mind of his
reader by sportive descriptions, and by representing, in
elevated measures, ludicrous objects and circumstances, a
.species of the mock heroic so admired in Phillips’ Splen¬
did Shilling. The historical account he has given of
chairs, in the first book of the Task, is a striking specimen
of his powers of versification, and of his talent for humour
in this latter style. The attention is however the most
437
Cowper.
438
COX
Cowper detained by those passages in which the charms of rural
li life, and the endearments of domestic retirement, are de-
Cox- scribed. The Task abounds with incidents, introduced as
' episodes, and interposing an agreeable relief to the grave
and serious part of the poetry. His Crazy Kate is a de¬
scription of the calamity of a disordered reason, admirably
exact and alfecting.
. She begs, an idle pin of all she meets.
What other poet would have introduced so minute a cir¬
cumstance into his representation; and yet that minute¬
ness constitutes its peculiar merit, and produces the hap¬
piest effect. .
Of his talent for painting there cannot be a better spe¬
cimen than his sketch of the melancholy man, probably
drawn from what too faithful memory suggested of him¬
self :
Look where he comes—in this embower’d alcove
Stand close concealed, and see a statue move;
Lips busy, and eyes fixt, foot falling slow.
Arms hanging idly down, hands clasp’d below,
Interpret to the marking eye distress,
Such as its symptoms only can express.
That tongue is silent now ;—that silent tongue
Could argue once, could jest or join the song.
Could give advice, could censure or commend,
Or charm the sorrows of a drooping friend.
Renounced alike its office and its sport,
Its brisker and its graver strains fall short;
Both fall beneath a fever’s secret sway,
And like a summer brook are past away.
Retirement.
His occasional poems are remarkably fine, and John
Gilpin is one of the most humorous pieces in the language.
His next work was a translation of the aliad and Odyssey
into Miltonic blank verse. It is unjust to compare the
version of Mr Pope with that of Mr Cowper. The meiits
of each are distinct and appropriate. Mr Cowper died of a
severe and lingering illness, at Cast Deieham, in Korfolh,
on the 25th of April 1800.
COXE’S Island, a small island at the mouth of the
river Ganges, to the north of Sagor, three miles long and
two broad. It is covered with wood, and inhabited by
wdld beasts. Long. 88. 12. E. Lat. 21. 43. N.
COX, Richard, a learned prelate, and principal pillar
of the Reformation, was born at Whaddon in Bucking¬
hamshire, in the year 1499. From Eton school he went to
Cambridge, where he obtained a scholarship in King’s
College, of which he became a fellow in 1519. He was
thence invited to Oxford by Cardinal Wolsey, and was
there made one of the junior canons of Cardinal College.
In 1525 he was incorporated bachelor, and the following
year he took the degree of master of arts in the same uni¬
versity. In this situation he became remarkable for his
learning and poetical abilities; but his attachment to the
opinions of Luther rendered him hateful to his superiors,
who stripped him of his preferment, and threw him into
prison on a suspicion of heresy. Being, however, soon re¬
leased, he was chosen master of Eton school, which flourish¬
ed remarkably under his care. In 1537 he commenced
doctor of divinity at Cambridge; in 1540 was made arch¬
deacon of Ely; and in the following year be became pre¬
bendary of that cathedral, on its being founded of new by
King Henry VIII. In 1546 he was made dean of Christ
Church, Oxford. By the recommendation of Archbishop
Cranmer and Bishop Goodrich, to the latter of whom he
had been chaplain, he not only obtained the above prefer¬
ments, but was also chosen preceptor to Prince Edward,
on whose accession to the throne he became a favourite at
court, was sworn of the privy council, and made king s
almoner. In 1547 he was elected chancellor of Oxford,
in 1548 canon of Windsor, and the next year dean of
COY
Westminster. About this time he was appointed one of
the commissioners to visit the university of Oxford; in
which office his zeal for reformation was so excessive that
he destroyed a number of curious and valuable books, for '
no better reason than because they were written by Ro¬
man Catholics. On the accession of Queen Mary he was
stripped of all his preferments, and committed to the Mar-
shalsea. He was, however, soon released, and immediate¬
ly left the kingdom. Having resided some time at Stras-
burg with his intimate friend Peter Martyr, he returned
to England on the death of Queen Mary, and, with other
divines, he was appointed to revise the liturgy. He often
preached before the queen ; and in 1559 he was preferred
to the see of Ely, which he continued to enjoy upwards
of twenty-one years. He was, however, no favourite with
the queen ; the reason assigned for which was, his zealous
opposition to her retaining the crucifix and wax candles
on the altar of the royal chapel, and his strenuous defence
of the marriage of the clergy, which her majesty always
disapproved. He died on the 22d of July 1581, aged
eighty-one. He was a man of considerable learning, a
zealous and rigid bulwark of the church of England, and
an implacable enemy of both Papists and Puritans. In a
letter* to Archbishop Parker, he advises him to proceed
vigorously in reclaiming or punishing the Puritans, and
not to be discouraged by the frown of the court favourites
who protected them; assuring him that he might expect
the blessing of God on his pious labours to free the church
from their dangerous attempts, and to establish unifor¬
mity. This zealous reformer we find had not totally lost
sight of the text, “ Compel them to come in ;” but a strong¬
er proof of his implacability and self-importance appears
in his letter to the lord treasurer Burghley, in which he
warmly expostulates with the council for interposing in
behalf of the Puritans, or meddling in affairs of the church,
admonishing them to keep to their own sphere. Such
language from a bishop would probably make a modern
privy council stare. His works are, 1. Two Latin Orations
on tlie Dispute between Dr Tresham and Peter Martyr,
Lond. 1549, 4to; 2. Liturgy of the Church of England,
in compiling, and afterwards correcting which, he was
principally concerned; 3. Ihe Lord’s Prayer inVerse,
commonly printed at the end of David s Psalms by Stern-
hold and Hopkins; 4. Translation of the Four Gospels,
the Acts of the Apostles, and the Epistle to the Romans,
in the new translation of the Bible in the reign of Queen
Elizabeth; 5. Resolutions of some Questions concerning
the Sacrament in the Collection of Records at the end ol
Burnet’s History of the Reformation; 6. Several Letters
to the Queen and others, published in Strype’s Annals of
the Reformation. He is also said to have been concerned
in framing the declaration concerning the divine institution
of bishops, and to have assisted Lyle in his Grammar.
COXACHIE, or Cocksackie, a township of the Unit¬
ed States, in Greene county, New York. This place has
been principally built since 1800; and it now enjoys a
considerable and still increasing trade. It is distant
ty-two miles south of Albany, and eight north of the Hud¬
son. The population amounts to about 5000.
COYPEL, Anthony, a French painter, born at Paris
in 1661. Noyel CoypeJ, his father, being chosen by M-
Colbert as director of the academy at Rome, he took his
son with him into Italy, where Anthony Coypel formed
himself on the works of the greatest masters; and on his
return to France was appointed first painter to the Duke ot
Orleans. That prince employed him in painting the giaa
gallery of the royal palace, and allowed him a pension. n
1714 he was named director of the Academy of faint¬
ing and Sculpture. In 1715 he was made the first painter
to the French king, and ennobled on account oi his merit.
C R A
■» He died in 1722. M. Coypel, his son, also excelled in the
c R a
same art.
COZENING, tricking, or defrauding. In law it denotes
J an offence, where any thing is done deceitfully, whether
belonging to contracts or not, which cannot be properly
defined by any special name.
COZiQUIKIACHI, or Cosiguiriachi, Santa Rosa
de, a town of Mexico, in the intendancy of Durango, sur¬
rounded with silver mines. The population of this place
amounts to nearly 11,000. It is distant twenty-four
leagues south-west of Chihuahua.
COZUMEL, an island of North America, near the
coast of Yucutan, inhabited by native Indians. It is forty
miles in length by from three to ten in breadth. The
country is fertile, and cattle and fowl are abundant. Long.
87. 58. W. Lat. 19. 56. N.
CRABBE, George, was born at Aldborough, in Suffolk,
on the 24th December 1754, and was the son of an officer
of the customs. He appears to have been designed by his
father first for an employment similar to his own, and after¬
wards for the medical profession. He was apprenticed to
an apothecary, and received an education merely sufficient
to qualify him for such an occryoation, and by no means
to advance him in that literary career in which he became
eventually distinguished. His poetical taste was first eli¬
cited by the casual perusal of some verses in the Philoso¬
phical Magazine, which his father, who was a mathema¬
tician, and averse to poetry, had separated from the scien¬
tific portions of that periodical, and thrown aside as un¬
worthy. The spark thus kindled burnt steadily; and even
while a schoolboy he versified much, and made sundry
ambitious attempts in the highest walks of composition.
The attainment of a prize offered by the editor of the
Lady’s Magazine, for a poem on Hope, although a hum¬
ble species of success, sufficed to encourage him to re¬
newed exertions; and in 1778 he quitted the profession
of medicine, which he had always disliked, and repaired
to London, determining to apply himself to literature.
His early efforts in his new career were attended with dis¬
heartening circumstances. The first poem he offered for
publication could find no publisher. From the first that
was printed he obtained no profit, in consequence of the
publisher’s bankruptcy. It was entitled The Candidate,
a Poetical Epistle to the Authors of the Monthly Review,
and appeared anonymously in 1780. Soon afterwards he
became acquainted with Mr Burke, an acquaintance from
which may be dated the dawn of his literary rise. With¬
out an introduction, impelled by distress, he applied to
nlr Burke, who kindly took him by the hand, afforded
him the advantage of his criticism and advice, recom¬
mended him to Dodsiey the publisher, invited him to his
house, and made him known to many distinguished men
of that time, among whom were Reynolds, Johnson, and
1'ox. Crabbe’s first published poems, after the commence¬
ment of his acquaintance with Burke, were, The Library,
and The Milage, both of which received the benefit of
Burkes observations, and the second of which was in a
great measure composed at Beaconsfield. In 1781 Crabbe,
who by the recommendation of Burke had been qualifying
himself for holy orders, was ordained a deacon, and took
priests orders the following year. Through the influence
of this generous and distinguished friend, he, after serving
a short time as curate at Aldborough, was introduced to
tne Duke of Rutland, and became his domestic chaplain.
| or did Burke s kindness stop here ; for he obtained for
urn from Lord Thurlow, in 1783, a presentation to the
rectory of Frome St Quentin, in Dorsetshire, which he held
or six years. About this time he married, and resided
or some time at Swelling, county of Suffolk, officiating as
ouiate to the minister of Great Yarmouth. About 1789
he was presented, through the instrumentality of the Crabbe.
Duchess of Rutland, to the rectories of Muston in Lei- -n—w
cestershire, and \\ est Allington in Lincolnshire. In 1813
he was preferred to the rectory of Trowbridge, county of
Wilts, which, together with the smaller living of Croxton
Rerryel, in Leicestershire, he held to the time of his
death. After The Village, published in 1783, which had
leceived the corrections and commendations of Dr John-
son, Crabbe next produced The Newspaper, published in
1785. After this time his poetical labours were long sus¬
pended, owing probably to the dedication of his time to
the care of a family and the duties of his profession, or,
as he himself ascribes it, to the loss of those early and dis¬
tinguished friends who had given him the benefit of their
criticism. He had, however, the satisfaction of seeing his
next work, The Parish Register, published in 1809, 'read
and approved by Fox. The success obtained by these
poems, which far exceeded that which had attended his
earlier efforts, encouraged him to write again ; and in 1810
he published one of his best poems, The Borough, and in
1812, Jales in Verse. His last publication was entitled
Tales of the Hall, and appeared in 1819. The latter years
of his life he spent in the tranquil and amiable exercise of
his domestic and clerical duties, at his rectory of Trow-
biidge, esteemed and admired by his parishioners, among
whom he died, after a short illness, on the 8th February
1832, aged seventy-seven, and was buried in the chancel
of Irowbridge church. Mr Crabbe’s only prose publications
were, a Funeral Sermon on Charles Duke of Rutland,
preached at Belom, and an Essay on the Natural History
of the Vale of Beloni, written for Nichols’ History of Lei¬
cestershire, in which it is thankfully acknowledged. His
fame icsts solely on his poems, of which The Parish Re¬
gister and The Borough are destined to a reputation, if not
as brilliant, yet probably as enduring, as that of any other
contemporary productions.
Crabbe is one of the most original of our poets ; and his
originality is of that best kind, which displays itself not
in tumid exaggeration or flighty extravagance,—not in a
wide departure from the sober standard of truth,—but in a
more rigid and uncompromising adherence to it than in¬
ferior writers venture to attempt. He is pre-eminently
the poet of reality in humble life ; and to its representation
he has applied himself with a rigorous fidelity, which start¬
led the timid- fastidiousness of many readers. He dis¬
carded the aid of those pleasing illusions with which hurfi-
ble life had previously been enveloped; condemned as
fictitious the prevalent representations, and in their stead
fearlessly exhibited the stern, harsh, naked truth, and
determined to rely for popularity on the fidelity and vigour
of his delineations. His chief characteristics are force
and accuracy ; and through these, and the originality of his
style, he compels us to bestow our attention on objects
that are usually neglected. His poetry, unlike, that of
others, directs our sympathy where it is well for the cause
of humanity that it should* be directed, but whence the
squalidness of misery and want too frequently repels it.
Much of his success arises from his graphic delineation
of external objects, but more from his knowledge of the
human heart, and his powerful treatment of the passions.
Both the milder and the more violent emotions are pour-
trayed with ability, but in the latter he is most strikingly
successful. Despair and remorse are exhibited with a tra¬
gic strength that has been rarely equalled; and madness
has been seldom drawn with a more powerful hand than
in his poem of Sir Eustace Grey. He has been called the
satirist of the poor; but we must be careful lest we attach
to this expression too harsh an acceptation. It is true, he
discountenances those romantic day-dreams which asso¬
ciate virtue inseparably with poverty, and an Arcadian in-
440
C R A
Cracatoa nocence with rural life. He shows that demoralization is
II the attendant of distress, and that villagers may be equally
Cracow, dissipated and more dishonest than the profligates ot a
wealthier class; but he shows this in a spirit rather ot
pity than of anger; and whilst he denounces and exposes
crime, he makes us interested, not so much in its punish¬
ment, as, what is still better, in its prevention. He spares
not the vices of the poorer classes; but at the same time
he does more justice to their virtues, and renders them
more important objects of consideration, than perhaps any
other imaginative writer.
With many sterling merits as a poet, Crabbe has nume¬
rous defects. His descriptions are forcible and exact, but
they are too detailed. They have too much of the m
nuteness of a Dutch picture ; and it is a minuteness exhi
C H A
been educated at a Polish university, and must possess (iH
land which pays a tax amounting to seventy-five shillings a H
year. It is also necessary that he should have previously
filled some public office. The power he exercises is in
common with a senate of twelve members, eight of whom
are chosen by the chamber of representatives, two by the
clergy of the cathedral, and two by the university.
The capital is fortified, and contains 26,000 inhabitants,
among whom are many Jews. The cathedral is an ancient
and still magnificent building, containing many antiqui¬
ties of an historical nature belonging to the kingdom of
Poland, the monarchs of which were crowned in it. In the
same apartment under it are the coffins of John Sobieski,
of Poniatowski, and of Kosciusko. Near the city an enor¬
mous conical mound has been raised in honour of the lat-
iiuiii; tuiu uio ^
friendship of the accomplished Dr Pitcairn, and of David
Gregory,2 * * * professor of mathematics in the University of
Edinburgh, and afterwards Savilian professor of astronomy
at Oxford. His investigations, however, with the new cal¬
culus, subjected him to the severe strictures of the dis¬
tinguished John Bernoulli, but obtained for him the sup-
nuteness of a Dutch picture; and it is a minu ^ness ^ of gome tra(ie by tl\e Vistula, as well
bited in the representation of disgusting objects. lie never tc ^ l ^ ^ ^ ^ 5() 3> K
shrinks from the irksome task of threa g , gub_ CRAIG, John, a Scottish mathematician of the age of
vice and misery. Abject depravity is a Newton, and one of the earliest writers on the fluxionary
ject of his pen ; and he does not seem or differ’entiai calculus in this country. Newton no doubt
that there is a sPeciesof^cked “ of insi ifi. had iong been in possession of the principles of this cal-
our sympathy with suffeimg, an g t HisfeskiU culus before his modesty allowed him to give his discove-
cance which extinguishes oui i e g ^ nature ries to the world, and hepven revised1 one of Craig’s trea-
in displaying the morbid anatomy . • f tises previously to publication in 1685, the year after Leib-
has rendered him too prone „ « “JP of Li.X annL^cell his discovery in the Leipsic Transac
his talents; and his habit of tracing the deoimteso Resillin at that time at Cambridge, similarity of
character have “ h? “P“! ; very inferior to Ins pursuit had made Craig acquainted with that truly great
JSh man; and „n his return to Scotland he enjoyed the mUmate
he is apt to blend disagreeable images. His descriptions
of natural scenery, graphic as they are, have little in
them of elevation. There is no genial glow about them,
as if the contemplation of nature had warmed and in¬
spired him. His deficiency of taste displays itself also
sometimes in his humour, which is a^t^o verge uponbuf- robat; bc considered as
iiiiiiiiis Siipiii
Such are the6defects which have conduced to deprive him contemporary mathematician oi Uus country, andby Houte
of .ha, popularity which his merits would otherwise have ;faCded foform" an o^nion of c'raig's characfer from a
CRACATOA, a small and mountainous island in the letter to Dr Cheyne,* there may PCrhaP? ZZrk'rS
Eastern Seas, in the Straits of Sanda, between Sumatra in attributing the erroneous principles of this work rattff
and Java It contains one very elevated peak; and there to theoretical misfeke than l» 'Z '
is on the north side a convenient watering place, and near ultimately to have been a 5 '
it a Malay village, where fruits and vegetables maybe “^“^eralfapsfe the Philosophical and Leipsic
P CRACOW, a small republic bordering on the Prussian, Transactions, Craig s separately PufillSJ1<^
Austrian, and Russian dominions, at the point where they chiefly interesting with redis ei
meet. It stretches along the left bank of the Vistula, matical saence, are 1 Method^^Z im 4to 2
where the Rudowa falls into that stream. The territory is curvis qmdmturas Londofo 1658, ^ ,
about thirty-three miles in length, and its extent is about Tractatus Maihematicus de figuv r ^ Theolo-
500 square miles, or 323,840 English acres. The land is dratuns et loots geometncis, one. > > • ,re_
fertile and well cultivated ; and there are mines of iron, gice Christiana Principia Lend. 6^9 (
zinc, and coal. The whole number of the inhabitants is printed with a refutation, at.Lf^
about 70,000, including the city. The form of government cnlo Fluentium Libn duo, quibus subjuguntur Lib
is democratic, with a president elected by the inhabitants. Optica Analytica, 1718, 4to. , rs whom
The president must be thirty-five years of age, must have Craig, Sir Thomas, one of the ab y
1 Quo tempore (1685) Cantabrigise commoratus D. Newtonum rogavi, ut eadem, priusquam praelo committerentur per eg dig
naretur, quodque file pro summa sua humanitate fecit (Praef. ad Leet. De Calculo Fluent) _ r1 • rPnef. De
s In patriam postea redeunti magna mihi intercedebat familiaritas eruditissimo medico D. Pitcairnio et D. D. Gregono. (,
Calculo Fluent) T),.1 p,
* Si Dominus Craigius librum Cheynaei laudat, non miror; laudatus of> ipso ct Scctus loquens de Scoto. (Lorn. rnu. r.p. i-J
* Phil. Transact. 1703. * Phil* Transact. 1712.
C R A I G.
his country has produced, appears to have been the eldest with ffreat assiduirv fn cf r .
VsM1 of William Craig of Craigfinfray, afterwards called
Craigston, n> the county of Aberdeen. 1 he period of bis bition, to have sough? a mo “pSlSlfeof t! ? ndhd
b,rt i » uncertain; hut os he was sent to the university of in his recreations with the Muses; He Published se^era
St Andrews ,n 15S2 we may suppose him to have been Latin poems, which were afterwards insme , the S
born about the year 1538. He was entered at St Leo¬
nard’s College; a seminary which was afterwards placed
under the direction of lluchanan, and which therefore
occupies some space in the academical annals of the age.
He took the degree of A. B. in the year 1555; but as his
name does not occur in the list of masters, he is supposed
to have left the university before lie had completed the
ordinary course of study. For those who were destined
for the legal profession, it was then the usual practice to
finish their education in some of the French universities,
which about that period attained to the highest eminence
as schools of the civil and canon law. A similar practice
prevailed almost universally till the earlier part of the last
century; and a writer in the reign of Charles the First
thought it not a little “ strange to- see ane man admitted
to teach the lawes, who was never out of the countrie stu¬
dying and learning the lawes.”1 The law of Scotland is
to a great extent founded on the principles of the civil
law; and without a competent knowledge of the civil law,
no man can attain to a complete and masterly knowledge
of the law of Scotland. At an early period, when the
students of law were very few in number, the professors
were without a sufficient excitement to exertion ; and the
Scotish youth were compelled to seek for able preceptors
in other countries.2 The reputation of Cujacius, Donel-
lus, Govea, Balduinus, Contius, Flotman, and many other
, ^ jAl t' , . ..—, ^ ^ “" '‘Kuauie iimi uie saiary or a lutige would not
great names, elevated the French schools of law beyond have exceeded the emoluments of his extensive practice,
al competition: their celebrity however was at length added to those of his different appointments. He is not
eclipsed by the more modern universities of Holland; and mentioned as the deputy of the justice general after the
our countrymen then resorted to Leyden and Utrecht, close of the year 1573: in the course of the following year
he appears as sheriff of Edinburgh; and he is supposed
instead of Bourges and Toulouse. Craig, as we are in
formed, completed his academical studies in France, and
he has himself made more than one allusion to his con¬
nexion with the university of Paris. But at Paris the civil
law was not then publicly taught; and it is scarcely to be
doubted that he repaired to some other university, in or¬
der to acquire a branch of knowledge which was then re¬
garded as indispensable to a lawyer. His skill in the civil
and the canon law was united with great proficiency in
classical learning, for which we may conjecture that he
was in no small degree indebted to the discipCjpe of Paris,
where philological studies were then cultitfm'fd with very
eminent success.
Craig, having reached a vigorous manhood, was admit¬
ted an advocate in the month of February 1563. In the
I year 1564 he was appointed the deputy of the justice ge¬
neral, Archibald earl of Argyle. It belonged to his office
to try the highest offences ; and his name very frequently
occurs in the criminal records of that period, which have
to have resigned the one office on being nominated to the
other. At a much later period, namely in 4606, he is
described as advocate of the church. And this seems to
complete the catalogue of his regular preferments, but
we likewise find his name inserted in occasional commis¬
sions of importance.
ihe greatest of his literary labours was his treatise on
the feudal law. Such an undertaking was at that period
attended with many difficulties. The municipal law had
not received.any considerable degree of cultivation: sys¬
tematic treatises it possessed few or none ; written autho¬
rities of every kind were scanty and inaccessible; and the
collecting of materials must therefore have been not a lit¬
tle tedious and laborious. The feudal law, in its general
principles, was taught in the foreign universities as a ne¬
cessary branch of jurisprudence, and the foreign lawyers,
particularly those of Italy and France, had published a
great variety of works on the subject; but it was Craig’s
, ; 7    ^ nave gietu variety oi wonts on tne sumect; but it was Uranfs
Mr Pit ■ ren‘1]ere^.m.ore accessible by the labours of special object to illustrate the principles of that law as
i 1 118 dlstingulshed lawyer appears to have they had been applied and modified in his native country,
nmftl, 3 ,1 cou[?ej in the midst of that turbulence and in this department lie was without a model and with-
ffrpnt f i^- ^ W^1C 1 Prevailed in Scotland during a out a precursor. It is not therefore surprising, though it
par o is i e . he appears to have devoted himselt may justly be regretted, that he was unable to amass such
?iSt' °/the TJ0,ubles in Scotiand’ vo1- L p- 179. Edinb. 1828-9, 2 vols. 4to._The individual to whom he alludes is
2 \i t,andllanc's'> professor of the canon, and afterwards of the civil law, in King’s College, Aberdeen.
8vo.) emm 861316 saPere’ nisi Romano jure, homines non videbantur.” (Gadendam, Hist. Juris Cimbrici, p. 54. Hamb. 1770,
deinicJdp dum epIcis reSnatricem domum prosequitur, mortalitati se subducit.” (Borrichii Dissertationes Aca-
Wli utriiisi „ °r P' 161* • . ranc.oi 1683’ 4to-) °f hi.s literary attainments Dempster speaks in the most favourable terms: “ No-
tissimis <.rV6 in8u.se cogmtione imbutus, magna lectionis varietate, judicio summo, comitate mirabili, ut uno verbo dicam, erudi-
4™1S Ultlcis aut junsconsultis in Europa conferendus.”
s «[3nton & Haig’s Historical Account of the Senators of the College of Justice, p. 244. Edinh. 1832, 8vo.
<iuam sikK ' ,Sa-'TS Hernpster, “ ut alter Maecenas, cum summa posset capessere, mediocribus fuit contentus, et advocationis munus
VOL. vi tellClter!’ <1Uam meruit submisse.” (Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Scotorum, p. 197- Bononiae, 1627, 4to.)
' '' 'l!' 3 k
tits Poetarum Scotorum, and which are allowed to evince
no mean portion of poetical spirit.-3 His earliest puhlicatioh
bears the title of “ Henrici illustrissimi Duds Albania, Co-
mitis Rossi®, &C. et Mari® serenissim® Scotorum Regin®
Epithalamium.” Impressum Edinburgi per • Robertum
Lekprevik, 1565, 8vo. Ibis poem, relating to a very in¬
auspicious subject, is not inserted in the collection. Here
we find another poem, entitled “ Jacobi serenisSimi Sco¬
torum Princrpis, Diicis Rothesai®, Genethliacum,” which
must likewise have been printed, although we have hot
been able to trace it, in a separate form.
A few years after he was called to the bar, he married
Helen, the daughter of Heriot of Trabroun in the countv
of Haddington. His wife was probably the cousin of Bu¬
chanan, whose mother, Agnes Heriot, belonged to the
same family. At the age of thirty-four, his eldest son,
Sir Lewis Craig, was raised to the bench in February 1604
by the title of Lord Wrightslands.4 It was then custom¬
ary for the judges to wear their hats on tlie hench; but
whenever Craig had occasion to plead before his son, the
latter sat uncovered, and listened to him with filial reve¬
rence. . We may reasonably suppose that the Same inter¬
est which had raised the son, might as- easily have raised
the father to the bench ; but the modesty of his disposi¬
tion perhaps led him to prefer a less elevated station;5
nor is it improbable that the salary of a judge would not
CRAIG.
a stock of materials os prepared him for throwing a clear JesUrtvand ^ specSons a« W,
and steady light on the progress of feudal r'S,^s ; n‘ k lpin led wjth Jesuitical notions of priestly power. Craig,
nures from the earliest times. The charactei o ndherino- to the prevalent doctrines respecting the divine
is likewise affected by his patriotic zeal to facilitate the adhering to tne pre . - - -  
union of the two kingdoms, by assimilating their national
laws and customs. “ Sir Thomas Craig,” says another able
jurist, “ who is always instructive when he describes the
feudal customs of his own times, is seldom so when he
goes back into history.”1 This remark of Dr Stuart may
perhaps appear sufficiently just and discriminating. ie
value and importance of Craig’s Jus Jeudale is admitted
mingled wim r j r “ . &>
adhering to the prevalent doctrines respecting the divine
right ofkings and the passive obedience of subjects, has
at great length discussed the subject of regal succession
and authority. Such a production cannot now be regarded
as of much importance; but of so able a man, intimately
acquainted with history, and with jurisprudence in all its
branches, the labour could not be entirely fruitless. Par-
sons was likewise refuted by Peter Wentworth, Sir John
value and importance of Craig’s Jus reuaait is Hovward and other English writers,
by every competent judge, nor has it bee” Kino- James succeeded very quietly to the throne of
any subsequent treatise: with the except o En-dand and the original of Craig’s treatise DeJwre S'uc-
compendium, no professed work ^ SSit was not thought necessary to publish. Various
since made its appearance.- The author , • ^ . rnanuscripts of it have however been preserved: one he-
man of superior talents, as well as o ext i, ‘ r<l of ion2S to the Advocates Library, another to the Umver-
and it may perhaps be affirmed without much haza d of longs to the ^ tQ the^writer of tbis brief notice.
refutation, that no other Scotish lawyer can so c y second’of these Gatherer describes as the original
brought into comparison witli l^orU stai . manuscrint The author’s doctrines were afterwards found
Craig did not himself commit his elaborate work to the the Jacobites . and the design of print-
press ; and indeed the printing of any trea ise in J the work was formed by Dr Monro, who was principal
o’Ahe’uni^ersity of Edinburgh at the period of the Revo-
the author’s death, it was published by Robert Bui net,
who had married his grand-daughter. “ Jus Feudale, tu¬
bus libris comprehensum ; quibus non solum Consuetu-
dines Feudales, et Prmdiorum Jura, quae in Scotia, Anglia,
et plerisque Galliee locis obtinent, continentur, sed um-
versum Jus Scoticum, et omnes fere matenoe juris clare
et dilucide exponuntur, et^ad Pontes Juris Pen a is et 1 ‘J^’n0n-iurorS died°in the month of February
Civilis singula reducuntur. Edmb. IGoo, o. o 5 one biographe’r has been too liberal in conferring
copies bear the imprint of London. The editor has pie Vf 1 diveTS other divines, the degree of
fixed a preface, in which he speaks w.th learn.ng and “P»"J’'m>tie title of t The Uight of
judgment ot the author and his tvoik. Aiter a one in e ■ ,, Kingdom of England, in two books,
iarapp-ied anothe.. edition cum P- -one L d g „„ to .hejingdo ^^
prionbus “ul'0,?™e“^a3“rhJerpr\tfiS“^8J“i%xcelLt Kingdoms, but also the sacred Authority of Kings them-
Advocati. Edinb. 1732, iol. Frehxea is an excellent iv g ^ ’ m.;„imllv in Latin about 100 years since,
portrait of the author, together with a short accoun o fe V t ’ : »nt]v ]earned and judicious Sir Thomas Craig
his life; and the typography ot the edition is greatly su- by « ‘VJ celeb|.ats,d ^uthor of the feudale,
twoma’nuscri’pt copies^n the’Advocate’s U^^ like- and now ^-»^ted
of the bookes of that learned jurisconsult D. T. C. treat- 1-03, l*^ de(1(mlination Craig-S w„rk entitled “De
in^lnotheV ample and elaborate work, “P^frtaken about
lution. He lost his preferments in the church and the uni¬
versity, and being otherwise involved in the troubles of
his party, he did not live to carry this design into execu¬
tion. From the transcript which he had procured, a trans¬
lation was however made by his friend James Gatherer,
who, before the Revolution, had been parson of Kilmaurs
in Ayrshire, and who having at length become^a bishop
Edinb. 1779, 8vo.
cessionis in Ilegnis, sed etiam ipsorum Regum sacro-sanc- the U^agtchyof A^politkS
tarn Authoritatem nititur evertere.” Under the assumed nety of historical !Uuht^f ^nS’/be^al Wests of the
name of Dolman, Robert Parsons had in the year 1594 remarks, and the vn^ght t0
published “ A Conference about the next Succession to two countries " ^h. i ex b ’ ,P ^ treati6e has
the Crown of England;” in which he chiefly aimed atsu- rank the highest of a v ’.j t extending to 26P
perseding the claims of a protestant successor to Queen never been printed, but f P ’ t s Libra°ry. On
Elizabeth. Although he did not proceed on the same phi- pages in folio, rs.preserved
losophical principles, he arrived at a similar conclusion
with Buchanan; namely, that all political power is deriv¬
ed from the people, and that the consent of the governed
is an essential ingredient in all legitimate governments.
The right of resisting kings was boldly taught by other
pages in folio, is preserveu m me " U, hv
the same subject two Latin disquisitions were published Dy
Robert Pont, D.D. who was at once an officiatmgdergym ,
and a judge in the supreme court; and by David H
of Godscroft, who is well known for bis other wntmgs in
prose and verse. Craig performed another patno
v Stuart’s Observations concerning the Public Law, and the Constitutional History of Scotland, p. 163.
^ Principia Juris Feudalis, auctore Alexandro Brussio JCto. Edinb. 1713, tji Hisnani® BegemCatholicum-
* Joannis Marian® Hispani, e Soc lesu, de liege et Regis Institutione hbn ^.^XSinst herXcaUinJ.
Toleti, 1599, 4to—The zeal of Mariana, as the reader may easily conjecture, is only directed ag&in t ^
4 See Dr Russell’s edition of Keith’s Historical Catalogue of the Scottish Bishops, p. 5ol. hdinb. ,
4 Tvtler’s Account of the life and Writings of Sir Thomas Craig, p. 294. Edmb. lb-3, 1-mo.
r
C:iv
C R A
by preparing a work which bears the following title: “ De
Hominio Disputatio adversus eos qui Scotiam Feudum
Ligium Angliae, Regemque Scotorum eo nomine Homi-
nium Anglo debere asserunt.” This work is likewise pre¬
served in manuscript in the same great library; but long
after the death of the author, a translation of it was pub¬
lished under the title of “ Scotland’s Soveraignty assert¬
ed: being a dispute concerning Homage, against those
who maintain that Scotland is a Feu or Fee-Liege of
England, and that therefore the King of Scots owes Ho¬
mage to the King of England, &c. translated from the
Latin manuscript and a preface added, with a short ac¬
count of the learned author, and a confutation of that ho¬
mage said to be performed by Malcolm III. King of Scot¬
land, to Edward the Confessor, lately found in the ar-
chieves of England, and published in a single sheet by Mr
Rymer, the King’s Historiographer: by Geo. Kidpath.”
Lond. 1695, 8vo. Craig had vindicated the independence
of the Scotish monarchy against the imputations of the
English historians, particularly Holinshed, or his coadju¬
tor Harrison; and the more recent attempt of Rymer is
allowed to have been sufficiently repelled by Ridpath, who
has shewn that the supposed form of ancient homage bears
several unequivocal marks of forgery. His publication
was however followed by Atwood’s “ Superiority and di¬
rect Dominion of the Crown of England over the Crown
and Kingdom of Scotland, asserted against Sir Thomas
Craig.” Lond. 1704, 8vo. This book was refuted by An¬
derson in 1705; and the superiority of the crown of Eng¬
land was re-asserted by Atwood in the course of the same
year
C R A
Archbishop Nicolson mentions an historical production
of the same learned author. “ I have likewise seen an ab¬
stract of a book on the same subject, by Master Tho.
Craig, the great civilian, entitled De Scotorum Origine;
but where the book it self may be found, I 1 .now not.” 1
And here we complete the enumeration of his writings in
prose.
Towards the close of his life, he again indulged his po¬
etical vein. He wrote some commendatory verses, which
are prefixed to Thomas Jack’s “ Onomasticon Poeticum.”
Edinb. 1592, 4to. And seven years later, he wrote a short
elegy on the death of Rollock, which, with many similar
contributions, is subjoined to George Robertson’s “ Vita?
et Mortis D. Robert! Rolloci Scoti Narratio.” Edinb.
1599, 8vo. During one and the same year, he published
three different poems. “ Ad sereniss. et potentiss. Prin-
cipem lacobum Sextum, e sua Scotia decedentem, Parae-
neticon.” Excudebat Robertus Waldegrave, 1603, 4to.
“ Ad serenissimum Britanniarum Principem Henricum, e
Scotia discedentem, Propempticon.” Edinburgi excu¬
debat Robertus Charteris, 1603, 4to. “ Serenissimi et in-
victissimi Principis, lacobi Britanniarum et Galliarum Re¬
gis, 2r£p<mpog/a.” Excudebat Robertus Charteris, 1603,
ito.
In the year 1604, Craig was nominated among the Scot¬
ish commissioners ernpowrered to treat respecting the pro¬
jected union of the two kingdoms. One of his associates
was Sir John Skene, wdio had likewise contributed to il¬
lustrate the jurisprudence of his native country. The
Scotish and the English commissioners met at Westmin¬
ster, but it is well known that their deliberations were not
attended with any important consequences. Many pre-
ju mes were to subside, and many fierce contentions to be
assuaged, before tins great and salutary measure could be
accomplished. This visit afforded him an opportunity of
cultivating an acquaintance with Camden, and other learn¬
ed men; and the king bestowed upon him one of those
honours which at that time, as well as at the present time,
had begun to be held in little estimation on account of
their indiscriminate distribution. James determined to
elevate him to the rank of knighthood; but instead of as¬
piring to this distinction, he secretly withdrew himself in
order to avoid the intended ceremony. The king however
commanded that he should be styled and reputed a knight;
and accordingly his name is generally accompanied with
a title which he himself had no wish to assume.
Sir Thomas Craig died on the 26th of February 1608.
His death was bewailed in Latin verse by his learned
countryman Dempster, who, like himself, was a poet as
well as a lawyer. He left behind him an estimable cha¬
racter and a fair estate. He is celebrated for his liberal
style of hospitality, and, what is of higher moment, for
his zealous adherence to the protestant faith. He had
four sons and three daughters. Sir Lewis Craig, whom
we have already mentioned as his eldest son, died in the
year 1622._ The second, James Craig of Castle-Craig and
Ciaigston in the kingdom of Ireland, was killed during the
insurrection of 1641; and dying without issue, he be¬
queathed his estates to his next brother, John Craig, an
eminent physician. Gassendi informs us that in the year
1592 Craig, a Scotish physician, published a tract against
iycho Brahe, under the title of “ Capnurania? Restinctio,
seu, Cometarum in TEthera Sublimationis Refutatio;” and
that an answer to it was written by Christianus Longo-
montanus/ The Danish astronomer himself published a
“ Responsio Apologetica ad quendam Scotum, Aristote-
licum Philosophum, et Medicum Galenicum.” This is
supposed to have been the third son, Dr Craig, who was
successively physician in ordinary to King James, and
first physician to King Charles. The youngest son was
Robert Craig, whose son acquired by marriage the estate
of Ramorgme in Fifeshire. Margaret, the eldest daughter
of Sir Thomas, became the wife of Sir Alexander Gibson
of Durie; and from this marriage is descended the pre¬
sent possessor of the estate of Riccarton, Sir James Gib¬
son Craig, Bart. Elizabeth, his second daughter, married
James Johnston of Warriston; and their son Sir Archi¬
bald Johnston acted a conspicuous part in the proceed¬
ings of his own unhappy times: their daughter Rachel
was married to Robert Burnet of Crimond, a judge in the
court of session, and the father of Gilbert Burnet, the ce¬
lebrated bishop of Salisbury. Craig’s third daughter,
Janet, was married to John Belches of Tofts, and their
son Sir Alexander Belches was likewise raised to the
bench. ,
CRAIL, a parish town and royal burgh of Scotland, in
the county of Fife, about ten miles south-east of St An¬
drews. It is said to have been a town of some note as
early as the ninth century. David I. had a palace here,
now entirely demolished, except a fragment of a wall. It
received from Robert Bruce the charter which constituted
443
Crail.
and n!C<)1S°n s Historical Library, p. 15. Lond. 1702, 8vo.—This learned prelate, who was successively bishop of Carlisle
hp owl/’ aml arclJblshoP ot Cashel, has frequently mentioned Craig in terms of high commendation. “ I do still profess my self,’
cisewnere remarks.. u to have an PvIranrHinurv vpnprntinn ar.H      —  i   
^ ^ vll. litia II l/ljf Illtfll LIU lit. ^   wv»*««***w*av*M.v*v/**» j. v, vftvnjq
“ t0 ha.ve an extraordinary veneration and esteem for the memory of that excellent writer, and can therefore
r. Such, I do acknowledge, he is with me ; and ’tis not impossible but
P Irinn niYimnn ia f L..^LI,,, L „
all°W '^twood b0 caU llim a favourite author, oucn, a uo acKnowieage, tie is with me ; amt ’tis not impossible but
dpspruL » .eT'varm_ my affection, have express’d a more kind opinion of his performances, than my nicer adversary thinks he
, 'es‘ {Leges Marchiarum, or Border Laws, pref. Lond. 1705, 8vo.)
Collp™ ,?n?LVltr Ty,chonis Brahei> P- 154- 183- Paris. 1654, 4to. See likewise Dr Ward’s Lives of the Professors of Gresham
v-uuege, p. 120. Lond. 1740, fol.
444
C R A
C R A
Crank.
Cramond it a royal burgh. It was anciently the seat ofapnory,
the ruins of which are still to he seen below the east end
of the town. Many of the houses of Crail are ol that mas¬
sive and antique description which indicate past splen-
dour The church is of great antiquity. The pnnc.pal
street is spacious and regular. With cons.derable capabi¬
lities as a port, the harbour is small and incommo^ous,
and at present possesses little or no tiaue. I e p l
tion amounted in 1831 to 1854'.
CRAMOND, a small village of Scotland, situated ox
the south side of the Frith of Forth, and distant abou
five miles from Edinburgh, at the “"fux„0‘‘^e
and Almond. This place is only worthy of notice iioi
having been a Roman station. The harbour, foimed by
the Almond at this place, was, Forth
that neonle, frequented by their vessels visiting the ko t ,
and^ on°the opposite banl/of the creek of the Almond, »
a craggy eminence, they had a fortificaao . „ .
iron-woiL here, which constitute the chief support of
Pl CRAMPONEE, in Heraldry, an epithet given to a
cross which has at each end a cramp or square piece com¬
ing from it; that from the arm in chief towards the sims
te? angle, that from the arm on that side downwards, that
from the arm in base towards the dexter side, and t ia
from the dexter arm upwards. _ i .f
CRANAGE, the liberty of using a crane at a w hart,
and also the money paid for drawing up wares out ot a
shin or vessel with a crane.
CRANBORNE, a small town of the county of Dorset,
ninety-three miles from London. The parish is exten¬
sive, Including a large circuit, formerly a royal chase, but
recently disforested and cultivated. ihe inhabitants
amounted in 1801 to 1402, in 1811 to 1611, and in 1821
t0CRANBROOK, a market-town in the lathe of Scray,
in Kent, forty-eight miles from London. This town is
remarkable for having been the spot where the first manu¬
facture of woollen was established by some hlemmgs m
the reign of Edward III. The market is held on -
nesday. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to ~o61, m
1811 to 2991, and in 1821 to 3683.
CRANGANORE, a town and sea-port ot India, on tne
coast of Malabar, the capital of a small district of the
same name. It stands about three mues up a river, five
leagues to the north of Cochin, and is only accessible for
small vessels. It is an ancient place, and tne Jews asseit
that they were in possession of it as early as the year
490. It was taken possession of by the Portuguese m
1505, and retained by them till the year 1663, when it
was taken by the Dutch, who fortified it. But as they
were unable to defend it against Tippoo, they sold it to
the rajah of Travancore, which occasioned a war Between
these two potentates; and, on the 8th May 1790, the
troops of the sultan took possession of Cranganore. Ihe
English, in favour of their ally the rajah, now took part m
the war, and retook the place in 1791. Long. 76. 5. E.
Lat. 10. 15. N. . ,
CRANK, a mechanical contrivance, in manner oi an
elbow, only of a square form, projecting out from an axis
or spindle; and serving, by its rotation, to raise and let
fall the pistons of engines for raising water.
Crank, in sea language. A ship is said to be crarc/?-
sided, when, for want of a sufficient quantity of ballast or
cargo, she cannot ‘bear her sails, or can bear but small sail
for fear of oversetting. She is said to be crank by the
ground, when her floor is so narrow that she cannot be
brought on ground without danger..
Crank is also an iron brace which suppoits the lan-
thorns on the poop-quarters, &c.
Craw,
CRANMER, Thomas, the first Protestant archbishop
of Canterbury, was descended of an ancient family, and -
was horn on the 2d of July 1489, at Aslacton in the
county of Nottingham, being the second son of Thomas
Cranmer and of ‘his wife Agnes Hatfield. He received
what was then considered as a suitable education for a
o-entleman; nor did he neglect the recreations of hunting
and hawking, and the use of the bow. After his father’s
death, and when he himself was only fourteen years of
a«-e he was sent to Jesus College, Cambridge, and about
the’year 1510 he was elected to a fellowship. Erasmus,
one of the great restorers of solid and. elegant learning,
had already contributed his powerful aid in rescuing this
university from scholastic jargon and monkish barbarism.
The rectitude of. Crammer’s understanding enabled him to
o-ive a beneficial tendency to his academical studies: not
satisfied with the antiquated course, he likewise devoted a
portion of his time to the acquisition of the Greek and
Hebrew languages; and if he never became celebiated
for the purity or elegance of Latinity, it must be lecol-
lected that his chief attention was devoted to higher ob¬
jects Before he had reached the twenty-third year of
his age, he vacated his fellowship by marriage. His wife,
who in reality appears to have been the daughter of a gen¬
tleman, some Catholic writers of his own time have indus¬
triously represented as a woman of low condition; and
were we even to admit the accuracy of their representa¬
tions, it is not easy to perceive that he would thus be cur¬
tailed of any portion of his moral dignity. He was now
employed as a reader or lecturer in Magdalen, or, as it
was then called, Buckingham College ; and, says John
Fox “ for that he would with more diligence apply that
his office of reading, placed his said wife in an inn called
the Dolphin, the wife of the house being of affinity to her.
Bv reason whereof, and of Ids open resort unto his wife at
tlit inn, he was much marked of some Popish merchants;
whereupon rose the slanderous noise and report against
him after he was preferred to the archbishopric of Can¬
terbury, raised up by the malicious disdain of certain tna-
lignant adversaries to Christ and his truth, bruiting abroad
everywhere, that he was but a hostler, and therefore with¬
out all good learning.” His wife died about twelve months
after their marriage ; and it is an obvious proof of the es¬
timation in which he was held; that he was immediately
restored to the fellowship which he had vacated. He
pursued his studies with renewed ardour; and adhering
to the plan of reading with a pen in his hand, he now pre¬
pared a stock of materials which he found of no small
value in his future controversies.
In the year 1524 he declined the offer of a fellowship
in the college which Wolsey had founded at Oxford.
About the same period he took the degiee o ■ •>
was appointed to the lectureship in that Acuity by 1
own college. In 1526 he was nominated one of the pub
lie examiners in divinity; and in this situation he appears
to have been instrumental in scattering the seeds ot ietor-
mation. He had been entrusted with the education of t
two sons of a gentleman named Cressy, wlio_res,ded in
the parish of Waltham-Abbey and county °t E^ex,^
whose wife was related to Cranmer. Being
Cambridge by an epidemic distemper, the P^eptor a
his pupils retired to Cressy s house ; nor hoes it d ■, y
appear that he afterwards resided m the univers y.
k^g had made an excursion to the neighbourhood; and
twoSof his attendants, Dr Gardiner afterwards bishop
Winchester, and Dr Fox, afterwards bishop of He f “
having met Cranmer ^
having met Cranmer at vv aimaiii, uvg.* ,i;unrre from
him the momentous question of the kinS b niarried
This nr ncess had been marneu
Catherine of Aragon. . This princess had been ^ t0
to Arthur, the elder brother of Henry, but, accordng
C R A N M E R. 445
her own solemn averment, their nuptials had never been of regaining a sound and healthful state; and, in this Cranmer.
consummated. For the second marriage, a papal dispen- article of belief, the progress of Luther and his followers v-w-
sation had been obtained in due foim; nor does the king was only from one absurdity to another; by rejecting
appear to have been accessible to any compunctious visit- tvcmsuhstcinticition, and adopting consubstantiation, they in-
ings, till he found this marriage an impediment to his union troduced a change of scholastic and unscriptural terms,
with Anne Boleyn. He then exerted all his influence with leaving their ideas involved in the ancient maze of Popish
the pope to procure a sentence, declaring the nullity of errors.
a marriage contracted with his brother’s widow; but al- Archbishop Warham, the patron of Erasmus, died in
though his holiness might otherwise have been disposed to the month of August 1532, and Dr Cranmer was imme-
lend a willing ear to such a suitor, he was restrained by diately recalled from Germany to fill the vacant see of
the consideration that Catherine was the aunt of the em- Canterbury. This sudden and high preferment he is said
peror Charles the Fifth. Many intrigues had been em- to have accepted with no small reluctance; and one of
ployed, and much delay had intervened, when this casual the difficulties which presented themselves, is supposed
discussion took place at Waltham, and when Dr Cranmer to have been connected with the peculiarity of his situa-
suggested the expediency of “ trying the question out of tion as a married priest. During the preceding reign, it
the word of God, and thereupon to proceed to a final sen- had been decided by the courts of law that thfe marriage
tence.” He strongly urged the propriety of continuing of a priest was voidable, but not void; and consequently
the appeal to canonists and divines, for the faculties of that his issue, born in wedlock, was entitled to inherit,
various universities had already been solicited to deliver a But such a marriage was not reconcilable with the prin-
formal opinion; but it is clear that the peculiar merit of ciples of the canon law, and much was to be apprehended
his advice must be resolved into a hint, more or less from the capricious ferocity of the king. His wife was
direct, respecting the necessity of deciding the question never publicly acknowledged ; and, after the promulgation
without the authority of the pope. This controversy, ori- of the six articles in 1539, he found it expedient to send
ginating, not in the king’s scruples of conscience, but in her to her native country. When he was afterwards
feelings of a very different nature, contributed in no small charged with having thus entered into the state of matri-
degree to the elevation of Cranmer, and to the downfall mony, he admitted the fact, but at the same time affirmed
of the church. When Fox, who was then the royal almo- “ that it was better for him to have his own, than do like
ner, communicated this plan of effecting a divorce, Henry other priests, holding and keeping other men’s wives.”
“ swore by the Mother of God, that man hath the right Before he took the oath of episcopal obedience to the
sow by the ear.” His attendance at court was imme- pope, he adopted the expedient of making a formal pro-
diately required ; and at their first interview, the king test, that he only took it in such a sense as was consistent
enjoined him to lay aside all other avocations, and to bend with the laws of God, with the rights of the king and his
his faculties to the furtherance of this important device, realm, and with the liberty of declaring his own genti-
In the mean time he commended him to the hospitality of ments in matters of religion, even when they might be in
the earl of Wiltshire, father to Anne Boleyn. It is evi- opposition to the authority of the pope himself. How far
dent that Dr Lingard has very erroneously described him this protest was privately-interposed or publicly divulged,
as “ a dependant on the family of the king’s mistress;” has been much and eagerly disputed between Protestants
for this appears to have been the true origin of his con- and Catholics, but it appears to be a question of very
nexion with the family, and his real dependence was first little importance. While we are ready to admit that his
on the hopes, and afterwards on the gratitude, of the king latest biographer has refuted various allegations of the
himself. Henry appointed him archdeacon of Taunton, Popish historians, we still retain a strong conviction that
and one of his chaplains; he likewise bestowed upon him the character of Cranmer is not materially benefited by
some parochial benefice, of which the name is not ascer- his zealous defence. To entitle the archbishop elect to
tained. receive the bulls from the pope, it was necessary for him
Unwilling to hazard an open rupture with the visible to take a prescribed oath: the authority which imposed
head of the church, the king again had recourse to nego- this oath manifestly left no room for private interpreta-
tiation, and Cranmer was conjoined in a mission to the tion ; nor can we regard such an expedient in any other
court of Rome, where he saw “ many things contrary to light than that of a mere subterfuge. “ It was,” says Mr
God’s honour.” During the following year, 1531, he was Todd, “ the pleasure of his sovereign, but his own aver-
commissioned as sole ambassador to the emperor. He re- sion, we have seen, that these forms should yet be fol-
i sided for several months in Germany; and there, about the lowed. But instead of engaging himself to the oath, he
beginning of the year 1532, he married Anne, a niece of declared to the king, that without the liberty of opposing
j the wife of Osiander, an eminent pastor of Nurnberg. At it he would decline the honour that was proffered. Of
i the period of his first marriage he was a layman; but as this conduct he never afterwards repented.”1 ' But is not
he was now in priest’s orders, he plainly disregarded the this a most lame and impotent conclusion ? When swear-
authority of the church. His residence in this country is, ing is not a mere act of profanity, it is in its very essence
with great probability, supposed to have had the effect the act of a man engaging himself by his oath ; and if
of bringing him much nearer to the sentiments of the Cranmer thus reserved to himself the liberty of opposing
Protestants: here he must have enjoyed many oppor- an oath, which he yet consented to take, he was openly
tunities of becoming acquainted with their views and feel- swearing to perform what he secretly considered as un-
mgs; nor could his soundness of understanding and ho- lawful. What his biographer subjoins is not more satis-
nesty of purpose be unprofitably exercised, in a situation factory. “ Thus much for the notoriety of the protest. It
so well calculated to second the impulse which his mind has been wished that he had taken the papal oath, as his
bad already received. From the gross error of the real predecessor Warham had taken it, without reserve or ex¬
presence he only extricated himself by slow degrees. The planation, and then proceeded quietly in opposition to the
buraan understanding had for many centuries been so stul- pontiff, as that prelate is believed to have done by sub-
tified by this portentous doctrine, that it seemed incapable mitting, not long before, to the regal supremacy, and thus
Todd’s Life of Archbishop Cranmer, vol. i. p. G8. Lond. 1831, 2 vols. 8vo.
446 CHAN
Cranmer. advancing a decisive step towards a reformation. TLlie
clamour against Cranmer, as to disingenuousness, might
then, it has been thought, have been comparatively little,
or none. But Cranmer was sincere, and Warham the
reverse.” Casuists may suggest divers expedients and
salvos, but an honest man has only one method of taking
an oath. ,
That Cranmer’s elevation is chiefly to be reterreu to
the aptitude which he had discovered for promoting the
dissolution of the royal marriage, is a fact which cannot
well be doubted. Soon after his consecration he addressed
to the king a letter, in which he zealously urged the ne¬
cessity of bringing this important question to a deteimma-
tion ; and as the pious monarch had already been declaied
the head of the church of England, he had no hesitation
in returning an answer, which, says the biographer, “ was
in perfect accordance with the primate’s suggestion; in
which he forgot not to maintain the supremacy he had
lately recovered:' Of the origin and progress of the ano¬
malous, and, we will venture to add, very absurd maxim,
that the king is the head of the church, this may be con¬
sidered as rather a curious account; for in what sense
could Henry the Eighth be said to recover a right or pre-^
rotative which had never been possessed by him or any of
his predecessors ?* The queen of England was cited to
appear before the archbishop at Dunstable, within a few
miles of Ampthill, the place of her residence ; and on the
8th of May 1533, he opened his new court, assisted by the
bishop of Lincoln as his. assessor. Catherine having failed
to make her appearance before this irregular tribunal, was,
after the expiration of fifteen days, declared contuma¬
cious ; and the marriage was adjudged to be null and void
from the beginning, as having been contracted in defiance
of the divine prohibition. In the month of January, Henry
had privately married Anne Boleyn, after having coha¬
bited with her for several years; but it seems to have
been asserted without foundation that Cranmer was pre¬
sent at their scandalous nuptials. It is well known that
she did not long retain the king’s affections. Ardent love,
in so ferocious a breast, was easily converted into deadly
hatred; and Anne, when supplanted by a new favourite,
was accused of various acts of infidelity, of which it is not
certain that she was guilty.1 2 The archbishop was again
required to exercise his divorcing faculty. “ The trial
and condemnation of the queen,’’ says Mr lodd, “ almost
immediately followed. Not content with this result, the
king resolved on further vengeance; and after two days
more, the afflicted archbishop teas judicially to de¬
clare her marriage invalid, and her offspring illegitimate.
But how was the archbishop obliged to perform an act
which is tacitly admitted to have been wrong ? The reader
must bear in mind that this sentence could have no refer¬
ence to the queen’s alleged adultery; for, according to
the canon law, marriage, which is one of the seven sacra¬
ments, cannot be dissolved by any course of judicial pro¬
cedure; and we may here remark, in passing, that al¬
though the modern law of England does not professedly
adhere to this notion of a sacrament, it is not completely
disentangled from the ancient superstition : the ecclesias-
M E R.
tical courts may declare a marriage to have been invalid Cr*
from the beginning, but they cannot dissolve the sacred
bond of matrimony. Cranmer was now obliged to declare !
invalid from the beginning a marriage, which he had for.
merly pronounced good and valid; and there is too much
justice in the remark of Dr Lingard, “ never perhaps was
there a more solemn mockery of the forms of justice, than
in the pretended trial of this extraordinary cause.” Nor
is this the last case of divorce to be mentioned. After
the death of Jane Seymour, the king married Anne of
Cleves; and as he did not find her person agreeable to
his taste, he again had recourse to the agency of the duti*
ful archbishop, and the sentence of invalidity was con¬
firmed by the seal of Cranmer. The next consort of this
atrocious tyrant, whom Cranmer has described as “ a
most godly prince of famous memory,” was Catharine
Howard, who was beheaded without being divorced.3
In these transactions, the archbishop of Canterbury
appears to little advantage; nor is it easy to believe that
he did not act against the clearest conviction of his own
conscience. All or most that can be urged in palliation
of his conduct is, that he had fallen on evil days, and
that to resist the commands of such a master was certain
death. In other respects, he was too much tainted
with the errors of the time ; but, if he was not exempted
from the spirit of persecution, he was subject to an error
which, however hideous it may appear to us, extended
to nearly all his contemporaries. The execution of Serve-
tus for his theological opinions was formally approved by
Melanchthon,4 who is universally regarded as one of the
mildest of the early reformers. Soon after his elevation
to the primacy, Cranmer acted as one of the inquisitors
who condemned John Frith for denying the doctrine of
transubstantiation. “ His said opinion is of such nature,”
he states in a private letter, “ that he thought it not
necessary to be believed as an article of our faith, that
there is the very corporal presence of Christ within the
host and sacrament of the altar, and holdeth of this
point most after the opinion of Oecolampadius. And
surely I myself sent for him iij. or iiij. times to persuade
him tojeave that his imagination; but for all that we
could -d<»therein, he would not apply to any counsel, not¬
withstanding now he is at a final end with all examinations;
for my Lord of London hath given sentence, and delivered
him to the secular powers, where he looketh every day to
go unto the fire. And there is also condemned with him one
Andrew, a tailor of London, for the said self-same opinion.
And thus fare you well. From my manor of Croydon.” Is
not this a cool contemplation of such an inhuman act as the
burning of his fellow-creatures? It was Andrew Hewet
who, honouring Frith, and adhering to his doctrines, was
thus condemned to the same cruel death ; and, after the
lapse of a few years, Cranmer, following the dictates of
common sense, adopted the very opinion for which his
brethren had been doomed “ to go unto the fire. These
holy butcheries were followed by many others. The per¬
secutions which commenced in the reign of the unrelent¬
ing father, were not discontinued in that of the milder
son ; but the case of Joan Bocher, commonly called Joan
1 Dr Martin, when counsel against the archbishop, reduced him to the necessity of admitting that, according to his pnncip ,
Nero was the head of the Christian church at Home, and the Turk at Constantinople. “ Then,” rejoined the civilian, e
beheaded the heads of the church, and crucified the apostles, was head of Christ’s church; and he that was never member
church, is head of the church, by your new-found understanding of God’s word.” , „ , , .
* See Dr Lingard’s Hist, of England, vol. iv. p. 239, and Mr Turner’s Hist, of the Reign of Henry the Eighth, voL n. p- 4 •
3 Her crime was incontinency before her marriage. A modern civilian has laboriously discussed the question, nste.
lierem pro Virgine ductam possit repudiare, si postea comperiat, earn jam antea ab alio fuisse devirginatam ?” (J- *. '»• ‘
cheri Jurisprudentia Polemica, p. 59. Hardervici, 1730,4to.) He maintains the affirmative, for this among other reasons: q
error circa virginitatem continet errorem circa substantiam, cum personae, turn matrimonii.”
4 Calvini Epistolarum et Responsorum editio secunda, p. 306- Lausannae, 1570, 8vo.
C R A N M E R.
of Kent, deserves a more particular notice. The charge
« against her was to this effect: “ That you believe that
the Word was made flesh in the Virgin’s belly ; but that
Christ took flesh of the Virgin you believe not, because
the flesh of the Virgin being the outward man, was sin¬
fully gotten and born in sin; but the Word, by the con¬
sent of the inward man of the Virgin, was made flesh.”1
For persisting in her refusal to recant this unhappy jar¬
gon, the poor creature was committed to the flames.
When Cranmer excommunicated her as a heretic, and, in
the true inquisitorial style, ordered her to be delivered to
the secular arm, she exclaimed, “ It was not long ago
that you burned Anne Askew for a piece of bread, and
yet came yourself soon after to believe and profess the
same doctrine for which you burned her.” The young
king was extremely reluctant to imbrue his hands in the
blood of such a victim, and a year elapsed before she was
ordered for execution. It is plainly stated by the mar-
tyrologist that his scruples were at length overcome, or
his resolution shaken, by the urgency of the archbishop.
About the same period, George Van Paris, a Dutch sur¬
geon residing in London, was burnt for denying the divi¬
nity of Christ; nor does it appear that, in any of the va¬
rious cases which have been recorded, the archbishop felt,
or professed to feel, the slightest doubt or misgiving as to
the perfect propriety of committing such atrocious mur¬
ders under the sanction of law and religion.
Another unequivocal proof of his having deeply imbibed
the spirit of persecution, is to be found in the book entitled
Reformatio Legum Ecclesiasticarum. The plan of this book
had originated in the reign of Henry ; and in that of his
son, Cranmer was placed at the head of eight commission¬
ers, who were enjoined to prepare it for the inspection of
a much larger committee, and afterwards for that of the
privy council. It is supposed to have been translated into
Latin by Sir John Cheke, the king’s preceptor, and by Dr
Haddon, master of Trinity Hall at Cambridge, both of
whom were eminent for their classical learning, but the
latter was a greater master of Latinity. It is not to be
regretted that this code of ecclesiastical law never ob¬
tained any public sanction. Much of the responsibility
evidently belongs to Cranmer ; and his biograpb^ifas$ures
us that an abler canonist was not easily to be th¬
in the realm. The title respecting the mode of proceed¬
ing in cases of heresy, contains a chapter on obstinate he¬
retics, which adjudges them, after all other remedies have
been attempted, to be delivered over to the civil magis¬
trate in order to be punished. “ Consumptis-omnibus aliis
remediis, ad extremum ad civiles magistratus ablegetur
puniendus.”- What is the language of the canonists when
they deliver to the secular arm those unfortunate beings
whom they describe as heretics ? Lancelottus expresses
i himself in the following terms : “ Saecularis relinquentur
arbitrio potestatis, animadversione debita puniendi.”3 Ca-
nisius thus delivers the same dpctrine: “ Relinquantur
judici steculari debita animadversione puniendi.”4 And
Gravina, a more recent writer, conveys the same meaning
m these words : “ Saecularis judicis punitioni traduntur.”5
o these three examples of such phraseology it would not
447
be difficult to add ninety-seven more; and the direful im- Cranmer.
port ot such expressions in the mouth of a canonist, can
only be doubtful to those who are unacquainted with the
history of the inquisition. In point of form, the hands of •
churchmen must not be stained with blood; but the sen¬
tence of the ecclesiastical judge, when it awards a cruel
and ignominious death, or any inferior degree of corporal
punishment, must be inflicted under the sanction of the
civil power. Mr Hallam has remarked, that “ infamy and
civil disability seem to be the only punishments intended
to be kept up, except in case of the denial of the Christian
religion ; for if a heretic were, as a matter of course, to be
burned, it seems needless to provide, as in this chapter,
that he should be incapable of being a witness, or of mak¬
ing a will.” But the Spanish inquisition did not punish
with fire and fagot every offence against the Catholic
faith ; and when, in a subsequent chapter, Cranmer and
his associates contemplate the possibility of a heretic avoid¬
ing extreme punishment, they7 do not necessarily disown
the fellowship of their brother inquisitors. It is scarcely
to be considered as a sufficient vindication of the arch¬
bishop, that in a manuscript copy of the work, formerly in
his possession, the punishment of perpetual banishment
or perpetual imprisonment is specifically mentioned. This
correction is not in the hand-writing of Cranmer, but is
supposed to be in that of Martyr ;G so that we are by no
means persuaded that the question of capital punishment
is completely set at rest. Of the Reformatio Legum Ec¬
clesiasticarum, the first edition was published by John
Fox, in the year 1571, from a copy which had been tran¬
scribed by the archbishop’s secretary, and corrected by
himself as well as by Martyr. It is not therefore difficult
to perceive where we must expect to find the text as it
was finally adjusted. This bloody text seems to admit of
another mode of illustration equally legitimate. The prac¬
tice of the archbishop was in perfect conformity with the
principles which we have here explained. In the reign of
Henry, he was accessory to the death of several individuals
who denied the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation;
and in the reign of Edward, he was accessory to the death
of others who denied articles of the creed to which he
then adhered. What meaning he himself attached to the
expression of delivering a heretic to the civil magistrate,
we have already ascertained in the case of frith; in re¬
ference to whom he states, “ my Lord of London hath
given sentence, and delivered him to the secular powers,
where he looketh every day to go unto the fire?
feuch errors as these are too glaring to be easily con¬
cealed ; but it is equally certain that his character was
adorned by many private virtues, and that the great body
of his countrymen cannot fail to regard him in the light of
a public benefactor. Under his influence, books of reli¬
gious instruction were circulated among the people,7 and,
what was of inestimable benefit, the Bible was opened to
every man capable of reading his mother tongue/ It was
in a great measure owing to his exertions that the refor¬
mation of the church of England was nearly advanced to
that point where it still rests. That this reformation
should then have been left so incomplete, is less surpris-
, ?,trJPe s Merriomls of Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, p. 181. Lond. 1G94, fol.
^ Ketormatio Legum Ecclesiasticarum, p. 23. edit. Lond. 1840, 4to.
4 ^NpGotti Institutiones Juris Canonici, lib. iv. tit. iv. § 3.
5 q”18!1 8un)ma Juris Canonici, lib. in. tit. xv. § 3. Opera quae de Jure Canonico reliquit, p. 9.97. Lovanii, 1649, 4to.
fi,,, r?y,lni®/nst’tuti<>nes Canonicse, p. 218, August. Taurin. 1742, 8vo.
loud s Life of Archbishon Cranmer. vol. ii. n. 334.
448
C R A N M E R.
His principal works relate to the portentous doctrine
of transubstantiation. The first is entitled “ A Defence
of the trve and catholike Doctrine of the Sacrament of the
Body and Blond of our Sauiour Christ, with a Confutation
of sundry Errors concernyng thesame, grounded and sta-
blished vpon Codes holy woorde, and approued by the con¬
sent of the moste auncient doctors of the Churche.” Load.
1550, 4to.2 This publication was speedily followed by
An Answer vnto a crafty and sophisticall Cauillafum
Cranmer. i„g than that it shou.d steely have been mumed for
X^^S&enry.whodiedinthenn.nth
of January lo47, the archbishop was pacu > j rje(j t0 persons of distinction, likewise survived to bewail
of a regency, cons.st.ng of sixteen .ndmcluals of nhom r ea to p illustrious kinsman.
the greater part were favourably disposed to the reformed “'e c ue relate t0 the porte
doctrines. Edward, who was of a tender age, was anxious aus pi me p '
to promote the same cause; and the seeds winch ha
been sown during the late reign, now became much more
vigorous in their growth. The chief instrument ot the re¬
formation was undoubtedly Cranmer, who promoted it by
his talents and learning, as well as by the influence neces¬
sarily connected with his high station. He was one o the
compilers of the service-book, and the author o a eas
three of the homilies, authiTof deuised by Stephen Gardiner, Doctour of Law, late By 1
works. He was hkew ise t e & 1 number, which shop of Winchester, agaynst the trewe and godly Doctrine
the first Articles of Re igm ., } , ^ redu- of the moste holy Sacrament of the Body and Bloud of
were slightly altered in the reign of Elizabeth, and redu o^t ^. wherein is also, as occasion
CC Edward dEd 'U a' ^mafure age in the year 1553, after seruelh, answered such places of the booke of D. Rich,
t It the instiP-‘Rion of the duke of Northumberland, Smyth as may seeme any thyng woorthy of the aunsweryng.
having, at the insti^at o Gre wllo ]iad Item ye shall fynde here also the true copye of the booke
“ed'he^uke’sfourtli son^aml who was the daughter written, and in open courte delyvered, by D. Stephen
of he l^e of Suffolk, and grand-daughter of Mary, sister Gardiner not one woorde added or diminished but fayth-
to Henrv VIII The king's two sisters, Mary anti Eliza- fully m all poyntes agree,ng w.th the orygmall. Load
beth were sunerseded on the ground of their illegitimate 1551, fob lioth these works were pruned by Reynold
birth To this scheme the archbishop acceded with no Wolfe. Of the Defence a Latm version appeared soon
small' reluctance. Jane was proclaimed queen, but, after after the death of the author. It bears the title of “ Do-
a reign of a |w days, was committed to the Tower, and fensio veree et cathohcoe Doctnute de Sacramento Cor-
soon died by the lumd of the executioner. On the acces- pons et Sangu.ms Chnst, Servatons nostn, &c ah autoro
sion of Queen Mary, many of the Protestants were sub- in vmculis recogmta et aucta. 155/, 8vo. The place oi
iected to the extreme tortures which they had felt too printing is not mentioned. Prefixed M a preface of Inn
S compunction in applying to others. Cranmer, Rid- teen pages, omitted in the subsequent edu,on m wind
ley, audTa“imer, werefet committed to the Tower, and likewise the title is somewha a tered ‘ Assert,o vertce.
were afterwards removed to Oxford, where they were con- cathoheae Doctnnae, &c. Lichae, 1601, 8 o.
fined in the common prison called Bocardo, and were at Cranmer was a person of a vigorous understanding, im-
length condemned as obstinate heretics. A long interval proved by extensive learnmg. His travels and studies had
claused before their execution. Ridley, who had been rendered him as familiar with the French, Italian, and
bishop of London, and Latimer of Worcester, suffered with German, as with the Latin, Greek, and Heorew languages,
that noble resolution which became martyrs of the truth, In theology and the canon law he appeals to have been
but the mind of Cranmer recoiled under so great a trial of deeply skilled ; and, possessing an acute intellect and a
human fortitude; the vain and delusive hope of life im- clear head, he was capable of applying his vaiious stores
polling him to deny his faith, and to sign no fewer than
six recantations. The tender mercies of the wicked are
cruel: his offences were not to be pardoned by such a
sovereign under the influence of such counsellors ; and on
ihe^lsf1 olMNlay 1556, this learned, venerable, and aged versity press of Oxford. With his intellectual endowments
r ■. in • .i.:  + VIT Til PS Ol DTlVclte 1116. fllS
man was committed to the flames. Rejecting his unfor
tunate recantations, he died in the pious profession of the
Protestant faith, and suffered the cruel torture of the fire
with an undaunted resolution, which his recent conduct
had not encouraged his friends to expect. It is not tor us,
CiettI 11CCIU, IIA. ivuo V.rrv *•*•*£5
of knowledge to the most useful and practical purposes.
His works afford a very favourable specimen of the Eng¬
lish style of that period; and we are glad to be informed
that a complete edition is speedily to issue from the uni-
v i_i. oi e y [y * ^    '     . TP 1 *
he united many of the amiable virtues of private life: Jus
natural disposition was mild and conciliating, and he was
distinguished by the engaging affability of his manners.
He was however capable of being roused to fierce indig¬
nation ; for we learn from unquestionable authority, that,
liad not encouraged ms menus io expect, it is uul .ui v.
who are placed beyond the reach of such fiery trials, to on a certain occasion, he orieied sing e com ‘
. t*7 i    ± rl ITo wnc « y.PHlnilS CnCOUTBSU
duke of Northumberland. He was a zealous encouragei
of learning, and eminently practised the virtues of charity
and hospitality. But his character, as we have already
seen, was not without glaring defects. His compliances
with the unhallowed wishes of the king, are partly to be
1 L*.   Tirniph
condemn the weakness for which he made this atonement.
In the history of Cranmer’s persecution, we find no
mention of his wife, or any of his near relations. He
however left a widow and two children, Thomas and Mar¬
garet. Another daughter, named Anne, had died before wllh luc ^ --- , ' , • .
him. The surviving children were restored in blood by ascribed to his want of that invincible hrmness
an act of parliament, passed in the year 1563, but it does could alone have sustained him under the frowns^/ i
not appear that they were reinstated in their property. It unrelenting a tyrant; and much influence must oou
is asserted by Ames, who however quotes no authority, be ascribed to the prevailing notion of the tu“es a ,
that the widow married Edward Whitchurch, an eminent will of a sovereign prince is not to be resisted ^,an^
printer,1 who had been a merchant, and had been well his subjects. Compliance in almost every possib e c
known to her first husband. The archbishop’s younger seems to have been regarded as an act of duty; n°t'
brother, Edmund Cranmer, was archdeacon of Canterbury, easy, on any other hypothesis, to account for tne ong
1 Ames’s Typographical Antiquities, p. 205. Lond. 1749, 4to.
e An edition of Cranmer’s Defence, with the orthography modernized, was lately published by Mr Todd.
I.end. 1325, 8vo.
*
C R A
Cr
Cra
y abject submission of the English nobility and gentry to
the tyranny and caprice of the house of Tudor. Although
■v. this consideration does not increase our respect for the
■V archbishop’s character, it is nevertheless obvious that the
pliancy of his disposition, by enabling him to retain the
favour of the king, enabled him to become a more power¬
ful instrument in promoting the cause of learning and re¬
ligion. For his deep participation in the bloody persecu¬
tions of two successive reigns, we must likewise endea¬
vour to find some apology in the current maxims of the
age to which he belonged. His own nature was far from
being ungentle; but his intellect was bewildered by the
doctrines, and his heart hardened by the practices, of the
church in which he had been educated. (x.)
CRANNY, in glass-making, an iron instrument with
which the necks of glasses are formed.
CRANTARA, among the ancient Britons, wxis a sort
of military signal used for collecting the distant and scat¬
tered warriors to the standard of their chief. When a
prince had immediate occasion for the assistance of his
followers to repel some sudden invasion or engage in some
expedition, besides striking the shield and sounding the
horn to give warning to those who were within hearing,
he sent the crantara, or a stick burnt at the end and dip¬
ped in the blood of a goat, by a swift messenger, to the
nearest hamlet, vvhere he delivered it without saying one
word but the name of the place of rendezvous. This cran¬
tara, which was understood to denounce destruction by
fire and sword to all wdio did not obey this summons, was
carried with great rapidity from village to village ; and the
prince in a little time found himself surrounded by all his
warriors ready to obey his commands. The crantara of
the ancient Britons was evidently the same with the cross-
(arric, or fiery cross, of the Scotch Highlanders, a kindred
race of men.
GRANTOR, a Greek philosopher and poet, who was
born at Solos in Cilicia. He left his native country where
he was admired, went to Athens, and there studied with
Polemon under Xenocrates. He was considered as one
of the chief supporters of the Platonic sect; and he was
the first who wrote commentaries upon Plato’s works. He
flourished 270 years before Christ.
CRAON, a city of the department of the Mayenne, in
France, on the river Dudin, in a fertile district. It con¬
tains, including the suburb St Clements, 660 houses, and
3312 inhabitants. There is much spinning executed here
for the cotton fabrics of Rouen.
CRAPE, a light transparent stuff, in the manner of
gauze, made of raw silk gummed and twisted on the mill.
It is woven without crossing, and much used in mourning.
CRASHAW, Richard, was the son of William Cra-
shaw, an eminent divine, and educated at the charter-
house near London. He was then sent to Pembroke-hall
in Cambridge, and was afterwards of Peter-house, of which
he became fellow. In both colleges he was distinguished
for his Latin and English poetry. Subsequently, however,
he was ejected from his fellowship, together with many
others, for denying the covenant in the time of the rebel¬
lion; and he changed his religion, being by catholic arti¬
fices induced to reconcile himself to the church of Rome ;
being not converted, but rather, as Pope says, outwitted.
He went to Paris, in hopes of recommending himself to
some preferment there ; but being a mere scholar, he was
incapable of executing the plan he had formed, and fell
into great distress. But, in 1646, Cowley the poet hearing
of his situation, very kindly sought him out, gave him all
the assistance he could, and at last got him recommended
to Henrietta Maria, queen of England, then residing at
Paris. Having obtained from her letters of recommen¬
dation, Crashaw travelled into Italy, and, by virtue of
VOL. VII.
C R A
those letters, became secretary to a cardinal at Rome, and
at last one of the canons or chaplains of the rich church
of Our Lady at Loretto, some miles distant from thence,
where he died and was buried about 1650. Before he
left England, he wrote certain poems, entitled Steps to
the Temple; because, says Wood, healed his life in the
temple of God, in St Mary s church, near to his college.
To the Steps are joined other poems entitled The Delight
of the Muses, among which are several Latin poems of con¬
siderable merit. He also wrote Carmen Deo Nostro, and
other sacred poems, addressed to the Countess of Den¬
bigh. He excelled in five languages besides his mother
tongue, namely, Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Italian, and Spa¬
nish,
CRASIS (from x^ixvvv/mi, to mix or temper), the tem¬
per of the blood peculiar to every constitution.
Crasis, in Grammar, is a figure by which two different
letters are either contracted into one long letter or a diph¬
thong. Such, for instance, is o^ig for op/sj; akri&n for aX^sa.;
ruypu; for rziyjog, &c.; where i and s are contracted into /;
and i and ec into ; and i and o into ou.
CRASSUS, M. Licinius, a celebrated Roman, sur-
named the Dich on account of his opulence. At first he
was very circumscribed in his circumstances, but by edu¬
cating slaves and selling them at a high price he soon en¬
riched himself. The cruelties of Cinna obliged him to
leave Rome, and retire to Spain, where he remained con¬
cealed for eight months. After Cinna’s death he passed
into Africa, and thence to Italy, where he served Sylla,
and ingratiated himself with thodictator. When the gla¬
diators, with Spartacus at their head, had spread universal
alarm in Italy and defeated some of the Roman generals,
Crassus was sent against them. A battle was fought, in
which Crassus slaughtered twelve thousand of the slaves,
and by this decisive blow soon put an end to the war: he
was honoured with an ovation at his return. Soon after¬
wards he was made consul with Pompey in the year of
Rome 682, and in this high office he displayed his opu¬
lence by entertaining the populace at ten thousand tables.
He was afterwards censor, and with Pompey and Caesar
formed the first triumvirate. As his love of riches was
greater than his love of glory, Crassus never imitated the
ambitious conduct of his colleagues, but was satisfied with
the province of Syria, which seemed to promise an inex¬
haustible source of wealth. In hopes of enlarging his pos¬
sessions he set off from Rome, although the omens proved
unfavourable, and every thing seemed to prognosticate his
ruin. He crossed the Euphrates, and, forgetful of the rich
cities of Babylon and Seleucia, he hastened to make him¬
self master of Parthia. But having been betrayed in his
march by the delay of Artavasdes, king of Armenia, and
the perfidy of Ariamnes, he was met in a large plain by
Surena, the general of the forces of Orodes, king of Par¬
thia, and a battle was fought in which twenty thousand
Romans were killed, and ten thousand taken prisoners.
The darkness of the night favoured the escape of the rest;
but Crassus, forced by the mutiny and turbulence of his
soldiers, and the treachery of his guides, trusted himself
to the general of the enemy on pretence of proposing terms
of accommodation, and was put to death! His head was
cut off and sent to Orodes, who poured molten gold down
his throat, and insulted his misfortunes. Though he has
been called avaricious, yet he showed himself always ready
to lend money to his friends without interest. He was
fond of philosophy, and his knowledge of history was ex¬
tensive.
CRATER, Cup, in Astronomy, a constellation of the
southern hemisphere, the stars of which, in Ptolemy’s ca¬
talogue, are seven ; in Tycho’s, eight; in Hevelius’s, ten;
in the Britannic catalogue, thirty-one.
3 L
450
C R A
Crater Crater is also used to signify the mouth or opening of
\\ a volcano or burning mountain, whence the flame, smoke,
Crawford. scoriae, and lava, are discharged. See Volcano.
-v-'—' CRATES, of Thebes, an ancient philosopher, was the
disciple of Diogenes the Cynic. It is said by some that
he threw all his money into the sea, that he might the more
freely apply himself to the study of philosophy; but others
assert that he placed it in another person’s hands, with
orders to give it to his children if they should happen to
be fools. For, said Crates, if they should be philosophers,
they will have no need of it; in which case it was to be
given to the people. He flourished about 328 years be-
He must not be confounded with Crates, an Academic
philosopher, the disciple and friend of Polemon. Ihe
latter had Arcesilaus and other celebrated philosophers
for his disciples, and flourished about 300 years before
^ CRATINUS, an ancient comic poet, of whom we should
scarcely have known any thing, had not Quintilian, rlo-
race, and Persius mentioned him, along with Eupohs and
Aristophanes, as the great masters of what is called the
ancient comedy. He seems to have died in the eighty-
seventh Olympiad. Suidas tells us that he wrote twenty,
one plays, and‘that his characters were extremely splendid.
CRAFIPPUS, a celebrated Peripatetic philosopher,
was a native of Mitylene, where he taught philosophy,
but at length he went to Athens, where Brutus and the
son of Cicero were his disciples. Pompey went to see mm
after the battle of Pharsalia, and proposed to him his dit-
ficulties in relation to the belief of a Providence, when
Cratippus comforted him, and by forcible arguments an¬
swered his objections. He wrote some pieces on divina¬
tion, and is supposed to be the person whom lertulhan, in
his book J)e Anima, has ranked among the writers upon
dreams. ^ , v
CRAY ANT, a city in the department of the ionne, in
France, at the confluence of the Eure and \onne. It con¬
tains 314 houses, and 1622 inhabitants, who produce ex¬
cellent wine. Long. 3. 30. E. Lat. 47. 42. N.
CRAWFORD, Adair, a physician distinguished by
his researches in chemical physiology, was born in Ire¬
land about the year 1748. His father, the Rev. Thomas
Crawford, was the Presbyterian minister of Crumhn, near
Belfast, in the county of Antrim. The family were origi¬
nally from Scotland; a remote ancestor, who was a clerg)r-
man, having fled from that country to Ireland during the
reign of Charles II., in order to escape the fury of reli¬
gious persecution directed against all who like himself
had refused to conform. The zeal which had stood so
severe a test appears to have been cherished and perpe¬
tuated as an honourable inheritance in the family, which
exhibited for six generations the clerical profession de¬
scending from father to son. Adair Crawford was, from
his early youth, remarkable for the sweetness of his tem¬
per, the excellence of his heart, and the strength of his
understanding; qualities which were so happily united,
as at once to engage the affections and to command the
respect of all who knew him. lo his nearest lelatives he
was an object of extraordinary interest, from the delicacy
of his constitution, which required that he should be
brought up with peculiar care ; but so amiable was his dis¬
position, that no shade of jealousy was ever excited among
his brothers and sisters by the greater attention that was
paid to him. He received his classical education from his
father; and at the age of fourteen was sent to Glasgow
for the prosecution of his studies. Distinguished from a
child by a thirst for knowledge, his progress at the univer¬
sity was rapid, and corresponded with the warmest hopes
of his parents. They had intended him for the vocation
C R A
of Presbyterian clergyman, which was also the destina- Cw (i
tion of his eldest brother; and he at one time bestowed^v
much pains on the composition of sermons with that view,
but hfe afterwards relinquished the plan on account of the
weakness of his voice. It was then proposed to him to
pursue the profession of the law, for succeeding in which
he was eminently qualified by the excellence of his me¬
mory, and the acuteness of his reasoning powers ; though
the "same physical incapacity as to exertions in public
speaking might, in a great measure, confine his practice
to that of a chamber lawyer. Fie accordingly turned his
attention to this new course of study, which he pursued
under the guidance of the celebrated Dr Millar of Glas¬
gow. At this period his younger brother, Alexander, was
a student of medicine in the college of Edinburgh, and
was sufficiently advanced in the knowledge of his profes-
sion to discover the immensity of the field which this
science lays open to an ardent mind, and the scope which
it affords for the exertion of industry and genius, such as
he knew his brother possessed. Convinced that extraor¬
dinary success would be the result of this new application
of his powers, he persuaded him once more to change his
views; and whilst they were together at their father’s
house he one day left him, on setting out on a journey, a
skull and a few'other dry bones, together with Monro’s
book on Osteology. On his return he found, as he had ex¬
pected, that Adair had already outstript his preceptor in
accurate knowledge of the subject. It was then decided
that he should return to Glasgow on the ensuing winter,
for the purpose of attending the medical classes. This
plan he carried into execution with great steadiness; and
as early as the following spring had begun to direct his in¬
quiries to the connection between respiration and animal
heat, a subject which for a long time engaged a principal
share of his attention. In the next winter he. went to
Edinburgh, still pursuing the same objects of study at that
university. His views of the theory of animal heat were
favourably received by the professors, and were long taught
by Dr Monro in his anatomical lectures. In the ensuing
spring, 1779, he went to London, where he then published
the first edition of the work v/hich has gained him so much
celebrity. In the beginning of the same winter, a degree,
probably an honorary one, of Doctor of Physic, was con¬
ferred upon him by the university of Glasgow. He was
held in much respect by the professors of that university,
his long residence among whom had given them the means
of apnreciating his worth and talents. It was observed by
the celebrated Dr Reid, on his quitting them, that he had
left no man behind him better qualified for the professor¬
ships of Greek and of Natural Philosophy than -^“air
Crawford. The facility with which he acquired knowledge
of every kind was, indeed, extraordinary, and appeared to
be the result of the singular faculty he possessed of con¬
centrating the whole force of his mind upon any subject
to which he chose to direct his attention. He now deter¬
mined upon settling in London, and soon after offered inm-
o^iCoo ..anrUrlotf* fnv nnp of the disoensarics, to which, at-
self as candidate for one of the dispensaries, to which, al¬
ter a severe contest, he succeeded in being elected phy¬
sician. His talents speedily brought him forward in the
philosophical world, as well as in his own profession,
was elected a member of the Royal Society, and shortly
afterwards he obtained the appointment of physician to ft
Thomas’s Hospital. In the year 1788 he published a se¬
cond edition of his work, greatly corrected and improvea,
under the title of Experiments and Observations on r
mal Heat, and the Inflammation of combustible Bodies, ei y
an attempt to resolve these Phenomena into a genet a
of Nature. His reputation as a philosopher was now es -
blished, and procured him the notice of all the s5ie“
noblemen of the kingdom, and the appointment of lecim-
C S'
C R A
C R A
er on chemistry to the academy of Woolwich. Being led
from speculation to suppose that barytes might prove an
efficacious article of the materia medica, he made several
experiments on the effects of the muriated solution upon
himself, principally with a view of determining the dose
that might be taken with safety. He then applied the re¬
medy to some bad cases of scrofula at St Thomas’s Hos¬
pital, with a degree of success that raised in his mind the
most sanguine expectations of its proving a specific for
the cure of that untractable disease; expectations which,
as has happened to so many new remedies, subsequent
experience has far from realized.
Dr Crawford was now rising into great eminence as a
medical practitioner; but his Incessant application to the
laborious duties of his profession, as well as to his philo¬
sophical pursuits, was beginning to undermine a constitu¬
tion naturally weak. He was invited by the first Marquis
of Lansdowne to his seat of Hardwell Cliff, near Lyming-
ton, in hopes that the change of air might have a benefi¬
cial effect upon his health. But the foundations of his
disorder were too deeply laid ; he gradually declined, and
shortly after died at Lymington, on the 29th of July 1795.
He was buried in the church at Hardwell. It was the in¬
tention of his noble patron to have erected a monument to
his memory, and, at his lordship’s solicitation, two very
appropriate and elegant compositions were written, the
one by Dr Denman, who was among his early friends, and
the other by the well-known Gilbert Wakefield. Lord
Lansdowne, however, did not live to see his design carried
into execution.
During the year 1785, he married Miss Stone, a lady
from Devonshire, by whom he left four children, two sons
and two daughters; the eldest son being a clergyman,
tire other in the medical profession. The daughters, who
were infants at his death, were principally educated under
the immediate superintendence of the celebrated Miss
Elizabeth Hamilton, who was first cousin to their father,
and who adopted them as her own children.
His eldest brother, the Reverend William Crawford,
and the father of Dr Stewart Crawford of Bath, was a man
of considerable literary attainments; he published Re¬
marks on Lord Chesterfield's Letters, which met with suc¬
cess, and also Translations from Turretine, and a short
History of Ireland. His second brother, John, was for
many years a surgeon in the service of the East India
Company, and published, many years ago, a pamphlet
showing, from a number of cases, the efficacy of calomel,
conjoined with other purgatives, in the treatment of those
morbid affections of the liver to which the inhabitants of
India are so prone; a work which probably laid the first
foundation of the practice which has since been so gene¬
rally adopted. His brother Alexander, whom we have
already had occasion to mention, was a physician at Lis¬
burn in Ireland, and obligingly furnished most of the par¬
ticulars above given, relative to his brother, who was en¬
deared to him by the strongest ties of affection, and of
. whose moral worth he spoke in terms of the highest vene-
1 ration. &
The published works of Dr Crawford, besides that on
Animal Heat, above noticed, were, a paper in the Philoso-
pidal Transactions, On the power inherent in the Human
onstitution of resisting high degrees of Temperature ; and
another On the effect of Muriate of Barytes in the Cure of
certain Diseases. A posthumous work of his On the effect
of Ionics on the Animal Fibre, was edited by his brother,
rL’ Alexander Crawford.
He had a taste for poetry, which, however, he indulged
ut sparingly. An elegy which he w'rote On the death of
« y barah Stewart, the mother of Lord Castiereagh,
a terwards Marquis of Londonderry, was supposed to have
considerable merit, but he could never be prevailed on to Craver
publish it. il"
Caspar de, a painter, was born at Antwerp Crayon
in 1585, and was a disciple of Raphael Coxis, the son of 'Tainting,
the same Coxis who had studied under Raffaelle; but he
soon showed such proof of genius, and of an elevated ca¬
pacity, that he far surpassed his master. Of all his con-
tempoianes, he was accounted to approach nearest to
Vandyck, not only in history, but in portrait. He princi¬
pally painted religious subjects, and was continually at
work. Although he lived to a great age, yet his temper¬
ance and constant regularity preserved to him the full use
of all his faculties; and to the last month of his life his
pencil retained the same force and freedom which it pos¬
sessed in his youth.
CRAAON is a sort of soft pencil made of any kind of
coloured substance used for drawing in what is called pas¬
til. It is a name which may also with propriety be applied
to primitive substances or chalks.
Crayon Painting. This method of painting, or more
properly drawing, with coloured substances or chalks in a
dry form, was first practised by the French painters in the
time of Louis XIV., and then, and for some considerable
time subsequently, was much in use in the painting of
portraits. But the liability of crayon pictures to injuries
by exposure to the light and the decomposition of their
colours, with the consequent defect of their original lustre,
and by their proneness to collect damp and dust, has ren¬
dered this art less in reputation than it was half a century
ago. At the present time we are not aware of any artist of
reputation in this country who practises it. The American
naturalist Audubon has lately shown, however, by his
drawings of ornithological subjects, that crayons, together
with a judicious admixture of water-colour paints and
black-lead hatchings, are admirably adapted for giving the
peculiar appearance to the feathers and the brilliant lustre
of the beautiful birds of his native forests. But unless it
be this accomplished foreigner, we do not know of any
other individual who has made much use of these means
for the production of works of art. But we would not on
this account be warranted in omitting to detail a few parti¬
culars as to the management of the art of crayon painting.
Crayon paper is of a peculiar quality, and is manufac- Cra
tured with colour in its fabric. It is well known, and may paper.11
be had in all the stationers’ shops. It should be pasted ^
upon linen or cotton cloth stretched tight upon a wooden
frame in the same manner as canvass to be painted upon.
When completely dry, the outline of the object is first to
be drawn, afterwards the shadows laid in with the crayons
in a broad manner, and then the colours of the draperies
and the tints added.
It is not the proper place here to enumerate the various
modes of mixing colours so as to produce certain tints or
shades. This will be detailed at length under the article
Painting ; and it is by practice alone that any approxi¬
mation to excellence can be attained in this as in every
department of art. All we think requisite to mention is,
that too many mixtures of various crayons are carefully
to be avoided, as they tend greatly to injure the brilli¬
ancy of the colours.
Crayons are to be procured in sets ; but if prepared, care
must be taken not to admit any of the white leads into
the composition of the various tints of which the sets are
made up. The white should be prepared chalk, or zinc
white, or any other white substance not liable to deterio¬
ration by age or exposure to the light. All the pigments
made use of in painting, properly ground up with water,
and reduced to the necessary tints by the proper admix¬
tures with one another, or with whiting prepared in the
manner afterwards explained, may be used for making the
452
CRAYON PAINTING.
Crayon pencils or crayons, and which are “M’,!'®11 '“j*® pfepmtiOT'shoul^be’kidVe middle tint, which'is the l£,
» ^ medium colour between the light and dark .shades, and^
iust as occasion requires.
Generally speaking, to keep the colours and shades
broad and clear of each other, is the practice to be pre¬
ferred here, as well as in oil painting. Too much tinting
and blending at first will be sure to produce heaviness
and want of brilliancy in the end. Therefore, the purer the
tints are laid in at the beginning, the better will be the
result; for if the nostrils or the lips, for example, be done
with pure carmine at the commencement, it will be easy
to tone them down with other shading colours, and thus
produce and preserve the greater clearness.
After the whole subject is laid in in a broad manner
with carmine, black, and white, and with such colours as
medium colour between the light and dark shades, and^\
which should extend over the spaces occupied by the lights
and middle tints. The shadows should be kept clear of
all these lighter mixtures from the commencement, as
they will have most clearness if not allowed to partake
of them, and the whole are to be softened together with
the fin"er in the manner already described, and the high¬
est lights superinduced upon the middle tints at the last.
Reflected lights should partake, of course, of the colour
of the reflecting medium, whatever it may happen to be
composed of. . .
Materials. The excellence of crayons consists m a great
measure in their softness. To obviate the tendency of
crayon pictures to change their colour, great pains and
with carmine, black, and white, and wi 1 ^ of. ‘but care should be used in preparing the whiting with which
the draperies or back-ground may Pegs ig termed the shades of the colours are made up. This should be
without attention to minutiae, or, as p „ , , „„ fniinws • Take a vessel of water, put the whiting
by artists, after the picture is “ dead coloured, the whole
must be softened and blended together with the finger,
or with an instrument called a stump, which is a piece
of chamois leather rolled up in a cylindrical form, and
shaped to a point. ^
In performing this process, care must be taken not to
mix the colours improperly, and on this account the finger
or stump should be wiped often on a towel; and care must
be taken not to soften and rub in the tints too or
too often, which will deteriorate that richness of effect
which the dry pigments produce when the crayons are
laid on in a rough manner. n ,
When the picture is thus laid in with the dead colour,
it will have the appearance of being composed (if the
subiect be a portrait) of three colours, carmine, black,
done as follows: Take a vessel of water, put the whiting
into it, and mix them well together. Let this stand for
half a minute, then pour off the top into another vessel,
and throw the gritty sediment away ; let what is prepared
rest about a minute, and then pour it off as before, which
will purify the whiting, and render it smooth and free of
oritty particles. When this is done, let the whiting settle,
and then pour the water off, after which lay it upon a plate
of stucco to dry, and it will answer either for pure white,
or for mixing up with all the other colours; and the whit¬
ing thus purified may be used to mix with all the colours,
either while in the wet or dry state. The crayons are
made by rolling them out into convenient lengths upon a
marble slab, or piece of plate glass, while the paste is in
a wet state. .TiS
reds It is rather difficult to procure either good car-
and white, which is the best preparation fin ^he reception ~“d j k Good carmine is inclined to the ver
completed, or nearly so, as the chalk dust in the progress
of painting these would otherwise injure the face and the
&In every case the highest lights are to be left out till
the last. In painting over the forehead for the last time,
begin the highest light with the faintest vermilion tint,
in the same place where the faint carmine was hrst laid,
llllllUH Lilli} dllvl g
mine crayons are prepared in the following manner.
1. Carmine. As their texture is inclinable to hardness,
instead of grinding and rolling them, take a sufficient
quantity of carmine, lay it upon the grinding-stone, mix
it by means of a levigating knife with spirit of wine till it
becomes smooth and even. I he stucco stone being ready,
lay the colour upon it to absorb the spirit; but be care-
„ i * i   _   fnv nainlincp. If it.
In finishing the cheeks, or any other parts where pure adding about mie part of jwashe^^
colour obtains, this should be amongst the last of the
touches; and it should be done with lakes and bright ver¬
milion intermixed with a little orange-coloured crayon,
all with great delicacy, and sweetened and softened with
the finger cautiously, to avoid producing that heaviness
incident to over much mixing of the one colour with the
other, as the beauty and excellence of crayon painting con¬
sists in one colour showing itself through, or rather be¬
tween the other. .
When a very smart touch is required to be made, such
as the spark of light on the eye, or the light on the point
of the nose, a small piece of the crayon should be chipped
off, and the touch effected with the fragmented angle. lonumg mtu uu.,. hen ^611 into
Bravery. Dark blue, purple, black, pink, and all shades the greater part of its adhesive quallty it may
ofSSJeries, should be first laid iS slightly with car- the hand ; if the
mine, which, in the end, will produce much more brilliant be then laid upon the glass, which, havi a p
adding aoout one pair 01 wcisueu ^ y r
of carmine, of which, when properly incorporated, make
two parcels. The next gradation should be composed ot
equal quantities of carmine and whiting, of which four
crayons may be made. The third composition shou
have one fourth carmine and three fourths whiting. 0
this make six crayons, which will be a good proportion tor
the rest. The last tint should be made of whiting, very
faintly tinged with carmine, of which make about eig
crayons, which will complete the above-mentioned pro¬
portion. As these compound tints are levigated, tney
are to be laid immediately upon the stucco, that t le moi
ture may be absorbed to the proper degree of drynessi
forming into crayons, which may ber^n0^nbyt;!£n into
r
CRAYON PAINTING.
453
Cray
’aiiit
-'Y
prevent the moisture from being carried off before it is
convenient to form it into crayons, otherwise the crayons
h w0uld be full of cracks and very brittle, which will be a
oreat inconvenience when they are used in painting.
b 2. Lake. This is a colour very apt to be hard; to pre¬
vent which the following particulars must be observed:
Take about half the quantity of lake intended for the
crayons, and grind it very fine with spirit of wine; let it
dry, and then pulverize it, which is easily done if the lake
is good; then take the other half, and grind it with spirits,
after which mix it with the pulverized lake, and lay it out
directly in crayons on the stucco. This colour will not
bear rolling. The simple colour being thus prepared, pro¬
ceed with the compound crayons as before directed, and
in the same degrees of gradation as the carmine tints.
3. Vermilion. The best is inclined to the carmine tint.
Nothing more is required to prepare this colour than to
mix it on the stone with soft water or spirits, after which
it may be rolled into crayons. The different tints are
produced by a mixture of the simple colour with whiting,
according to the proportion already given.
Blues.—L Prussian blue is a colour very apt to bind,
and is rendered soft with more difficulty than carmine
and lake. The same method of preparation is to be fol¬
lowed with this as is directed with respect to lake, only
it is necessary to griad a larger quantity of the pure co¬
lour, as it is chiefly used for painting draperies. The dif¬
ferent tints may be made according to necessity, or the
fancy of the painter. 2. Blue verditer is a colour natu¬
rally gritty, and therefore it is necessary to wash it well.
Its particles are so coarse as to require some binding mat¬
ter to unite them, otherwise the crayons will never ad¬
here together. To accomplish this, take a quantity suffi¬
cient to form two or three crayons, to which add a piece
of slaked plaster of Paris about the size of a pea; mix
these well together, and form the crayons upon the stucco.
This blue is extremely brilliant, and will be of great use
in heightening draperies, &c. The tints must be formed
with whiting as directed in the former instances, and are
highly serviceable for painting flesh, particularly to pro¬
duce those pearly tints so beautiful in crayon pictures. It
is not necessary to mix the compounds with spirits, as
clear water will be sufficient.
Greens.—Brilliant greens are produced with great dif¬
ficulty. We usually take yellow ochre, and after grinding
it with spirits, mix it with the powder of Prussian blue,
then temper it with a knife, and lay the crayons on the
stucco, without rolling them. Instead of this some use
king’s yellow mixed with Prussian blue, and others brown
ochre and Prussian blue. The crayons made of the two
last may be rolled. Various tints may be produced by
these colours, according to fancy or necessity; some par¬
taking more of the blue, and others of the yellow. Of late
many beautiful greens have been invented, such as olym¬
pian, emerald, and mineral greens, all which may be used
in this art if mixed properly.
Yellows.—1. King’s yellow is the most useful and
the most brilliant, levigated with spirits of wine, to com¬
pose the different tints as before directed. 2. Yellow
ochre, and Naples yellow ground with spirits, will make
useful crayons. 3. Orange is produced with king’s yel¬
low and vermilion ground together with spirits, and the
tints formed as in other cases; but no great quantity of
them is required.
Browns.—1. Cullen’s earth is a fine dark brown. Af¬
ter six or eight of the simple crayons are prepared, se¬
veral rich compound tints may be produced from it by a
mixture with carmine in various degrees. Black, car¬
mine, and this colour, mix^d together, make useful tints
or painting hair; several gradations may be produced
from each of these by a mixture with whiting. Roman Crayon
or brown ochre is an excellent colour, either simple or Painting,
compounded with carmine. Whiting tinged in several J
degiees with either of these, will prove very serviceable
in painting. 2. Umber may be treated in just the same
manner, only it is necessary to levigate it with spirit of
wine.
Purples. Prussian blue ground with spirits and mix¬
ed with pulverized lake, will produce a good purple. Car¬
mine thus mixed with Prussian blue will produce a purple
something different from the former. Various tints may be
made from either of these compounds by a mixture with
whiting.
Black.—1. Lamp-black is the only black that can be
used with safety, as all others are subject to mildew ; but
as good lamp-black is very scarce, the student will perhaps
find it most expedient to make it himself. The process
is as follows: Provide a tin cone, fix it over a lamp at
such a height that the flame may just reach the cone for
the soot to gather within it. When a sufficient quantity is
collected, take it out, and burn all the grease from it in a
crucible. It must then be ground with spirits, and laid on
the chalk to absorb the moisture. Various gray tints may
be formed from this by a mixture with whiting, as men¬
tioned in former instances. 2. Vermilion mixed with car¬
mine. This is a composition of great use, and tints made
from it with whiting will be found to be very serviceable.
3. Carmine and black is another good compound, of which
five or six gradations may be made, some partaking more
of the black, and others having the carmine most predo¬
minant, besides several tints by a mixture with whiting.
4. Vermilion and black is also a very useful compound,
from which several different tints may be made. 5. Prus¬
sian blue and black is another good compound, which will
be found of singular service in painting draperies.
It is impossible to lay down rules for forming every tint
necessary in composing a set of crayons, there being many
accidental compositions, entirely dependent on fancy and
opinion. I he student should make it a rule to preserve
the leavings of his colours; for of these he may form va¬
rious tints, which will occasionally be useful.
Of Rolling the Crayons, and disposing them for painting.
The different compositions of colours must be cut into a
proper magnitude, after they are prepared, in order to be
rolled into pastils, for the convenience of using them.
Each crayon should be formed in the left hand with the
ball of the right, first formed cylindrically, and then ta¬
pering at each end. If the composition is too dry, dip the
finger in water; if too wet, the composition must be laid
upon the stucco again to absorb more of the moisture.
The crayons should be rolled as quick as possible; and
when finished, laid upon the stucco again, to absorb all
remaining moisture. After the gradation of tints from
one colour is formed, the stone should be well scraped and
cleansed with water before it is used for another colour.
When the set of crayons is completed according to the
rules prescribed, they should be arranged in classes for
the convenience of painting with them. Some thin draw¬
ers, divided into a number of partitions, is the most con¬
venient method of disposing them properly. The crayons
should be deposited according to the several gradations
of light. The bottom of the partitions must be covered
with bran, as a bed for the colours; because it not only
preserves them clean, but prevents their breaking.
The box made use of when the student paints should
be about a foot square, with nine partitions. In the up¬
per corner on the left hand, supposing the box to he in
the lap when he paints, let him place the black and gray
crayons, those being the most seldom used; in the second
partition the blues; in the third the greens and browns;
454
C R E
C R E
Cream in the first partition on the left hand of the second row
II the carmines, lakes, vermilions, and all deep reds; the
Creation. yeH0ws and orange in the middle, and the pearly tints
next • and as these last are of a very delicate nature, they
must’ be kept very clean, that the gradations of colour
may be easily distinguished. In the lower row let the first
partition contain a piece of fine linen rag to wipe the
crayons with while they are using ; let the second contain
all the pure lake and vermilion tints; and the other par¬
tition may include those tints which, from their complex
nature, cannot be classed with any of the former, (g.g.g.)
CREAM, a general name applicable to all substances
which separate from a liquor, and are collected upon i s
GREAT, in the manege, an usher to a riding master,
or a gentleman bred in the academy, with the intention o
qualifying himself for teaching the art of riding the great
^^CREATION, in its primary import, signifies the bring¬
ing into being something which did not before exist. I ie
term is therefore generally applied to the original produc¬
tion of the materials out of which the visible world was
composed. It is also used, in a secondary or subordinate
sense, to denote those subsequent operations oi the Deity
upon the matter so produced, by which the whole system
of nature, and all the primitive orders of things, received
their form, qualities, and laws. ,
There is no subject concerning which there have been
more disputes than that of creation. It is certain that none
of the ancient philosophers had the smallest idea of its be¬
ing possible to produce a substance out of nothing, or that
even the power of the Deity himself could operate with¬
out materials to work upon. Hence some of them, includ¬
ing Aristotle, asserted that the world was eternal both as
to matter and form ; whilst others, though they believed
that the gods had given the world its form, imagined that
the materials of which it is composed were eternal. In¬
deed the opinions of the ancients, who had not the benefit
of revelation, are so confused and contradictory on this
head, that nothing of any consequence can be deduced
from them. The freethinkers of our own and of former
a^-es have denied the possibility of creation, as being
a contradiction of reason ; and consequently they have
taken occasion to discredit revelation upon this ground.
On the other hand, many defenders of the sacred writings
have asserted, that creation out of nothing, so far from
bein"- a contradiction of reason, is not only probable, but
demonstrably certain. This, however, is a subject with
which human reason can never successfully grapple; and
it would, therefore, be vain to enter into arguments which
prove nothing except that the question is one beyond the
reach of our comprehension.
Concerning the periods of time at which the Deity exe¬
cuted his several works of creation, it cannot be pretend¬
ed that mankind have received very particular information.
From viewing the phenomena of nature, and considering
the general laws by which they are regulated, we cannot
draw any conclusive or even plausible inference with re¬
spect to'the precise period at which the universe began to
exist. We know not, nor can we ever hope to ascertain,
whether the different systems of planets circulating round
the sun, and the fixed stars, w'ere all created at one pe¬
riod, or each at a different period. We cannot even de¬
termine, from any thing that appears on the face of nature,
whether our earth wras not created at a later period than
any of the planets which revolve round the same sun. As¬
tronomers are, from time to time, making new discoveries
in the heavens ; but it is impossible to say whether these
successive discoveries may not be owing to successive
creations.
Philosophers have, indeed, formed curious conjectures Q ioiL
concerning the antiquity of the eaith, from the appear*
ances of its surface, and from the nature and disposition
of its interior strata. The beds of lava in the neighbour,
hood of volcanoes have afforded ground for some calcula¬
tions, which, though they do not fix the period of the
earth’s origin, are yet considered as proving that that pe*
riod was much more remote than the earliest age of sacred
or profane history. In the neighbourhood of Mount iEtna,
and on the sides of that remarkable mountain, there are
beds of lava covered with a considerable thickness of earth;
but, on the other hand, there is one which, though known
from ancient monuments and historical records to have
issued from the volcano at least two thousand years ago,
is almost entirely destitute of soil and vegetation. In one
place a pit has been cut through seven different strata of
lava; and these have been found separated from each
other by almost as many beds of rich earth. Now, from
the fact that a stratum of lava two thousand years old is
yet scantily covered with earth, it has been niierred that
the lowest of these strata which have been found divided
by so many beds of earth, must have been emitted from
the volcanic crater at least fourteen thousand years ago;
and consequently that the age of the earth, however it
may exceed this term of years, cannot possibly fall short
of it. Other facts of a similar nature likewise concur in
crRing some degree of plausibility to this conjectuie.
b But all these facts are as nothing in comparison of the
long series which would be requisite to establish such a
conjecture as an incontrovertible truth; and besides, any
evidence which they can be supposed to afford may be
very easily explained away. I he bed of lava which in
the course of two thousand years has scarcely acquired a
covering of earth, confessedly stands in a situation in which
it is exposed to the spray of the sea, and to all the violence
of winds and rains. In such a situation, it cannot be
thought that a thick bed of earth could, in any length of
time, be formed upon it; and we might as well expect
depth of soil, or vigorous vegetation, on the craggy cliffs
of hills. In certain crevices here and there, in which the
earth has been retained, there is a depth of soil which sup¬
ports large trees. This fact, therefore, admits of no such
inference as has been deduced from it.
But by examining the composition and anangementot
the interior strata of the globe, and by viewing the gene¬
ral appearance of its surface, the ingenuity of philosophers
has, with better hopes, sought to divine conjectural y the
length of time during which it must have existed. Ubserv-
in°- the exuviae of marine and land animals deposited at
profound depths under ground, and accompanied with ve¬
getable bodies in a good state of preservation, as well as
with oleaginous and bituminous substances which have in
all probability been formed from vegetable bodies; and
remarking, at the same time, with what confusion the other
materials, composing the crust of this terrestrial globe, are,
in various instances, not arranged, but thrown together; they
have concluded that the earth must have existed for many
ages before the earliest events recorded in sacred or pro¬
fane history, and must have undergone numerousrevou-
tions before it settled into its present state. Such at lea
are the ideas with which Buffon and De Luc, and Dr ti
ton, seem desirous to impress us concerning its change
and antiquity. It is only doing justice to tl1686 P 1
phers to acknowledge, that they have collected, withama
ing industry, almost every fact in the natural history
earth which can serve to give plausibility to th.eir ^ J..
Hires. But still these facts, besides the incons,sfte”Cpy "
servable in many of them, are too scanty to warrant the
elusions which they have deduced from them. . ■
The voice of profane history is far from being decis
CREATION.
concerning the age of the world; nor is it to be expected
that it should. When the earth first arose into existence,
mankind were not spectators of the scene ; and it may
naturally enough be imagined that the first human beings
who occupied it’were too much busied in furnishing them¬
selves with the immediate necessaries and conveniencies
of life, to think of curious researches into its origin, or
even into their own. Profane history, however, is not with¬
out accounts of the age of the earth, and the origin of hu¬
man society; but those accounts are exceedingly various
and contradictory. Plato, in his dialogue entitled Critias,
mentions that his Elysian Atalantis had been buried in
the ocean about nine thousand years before the age in
which he wrote; and he affirms that this circumstance
was well known to the Egyptian priests and to the con¬
temporary inhabitants of Attica. The learned world,
indeed, generally agree in regarding his accounts of the
island in question as fictitious, affirming that the author
himself did not design to be understood in any other sense ;
and if the existence of such an island, at a period so dis¬
tant, be admitted as a fact worthy of any credit, the age
of the world may be reckoned as at least considerably more
than twelve thousand years. The pretensions of the Chi¬
nese represent the world as several hundred thousand years
older; and we are also told that the astronomical records
of the ancient Chaldeans carried back the origin of so¬
ciety to a period inconceivably remote, or not less than
four hundred and seventy-three thousand years. The
Egyptian priests reckoned between Menes and Sethon
three hundred and forty-one generations, which, allowing
thirty years to a generation, is a period exceeding ten
thousand years. But these accounts are so discordant,
and so slenderly supported by evidence, that we cannot
hesitate to reject them as false; indeed the fables of his¬
torians scarcely merit so much attention as the hypotheses
of philosophers.
When from profane we turn to sacred historv, we may
reasonably expect more accurate and more cretfible infor¬
mation concerning the antiquity of the earth. As the
authenticity of the Holy Scriptures is incontrovertibly
established, wherever they afford evidence concerning any
fact, that evidence must be regarded as decisive; and a
fact so important as the present might be thought highly
worthy of a place in them. But unfortunately, even the
sacred writings do not fix the era of the creation with any
degree of accuracy. They leave us, in some measure, at a
loss whether to extend what they say concerning the era
in question to the whole contents of created space, or to
confine it to our earth and its inhabitants : besides, different
copies give different dates ; and even in the same copy, dif¬
ferent parts relating the same events, either disagree or do
not speak decisively with regard to the length of the time in
which these events passed. In the beginning of the sixth
chapter of the first book of Kings, the time which elapsed
between the departure of the children of Israel from Egypt,
and the period at which Solomon laid the foundation of his
temple, is said to have been four hundred and eighty years ;
and in the book of Judges, again, the age of all the patri¬
archs amounts to five hundred and ninety-two years. The
Hebrew copy of the Bible, w hich Christians for good rea¬
sons consider as the most authentic, dates the creation of
the world three thousand nine hundred and forty-four years
before the Christian era. The Samaritan Bible, again,
fixes the era of the creation four thousand three hundred
and five years before the birth of Christ. And the Greek
translation, known by the name of the Septuagint version of
the Bible, gives five thousand tw'o hundred and seventy as
the number of the years which intervened between these
two periods. Many other calculations of the years contain¬
ed in the same intermediate space of time might be formed
455
upon the various dates in the sacred volume, which differ Creation,
in the different copies. By comparing the dates in the
sacred w'ritings, examining how these have come to dis¬
agree in different copies, endeavouring to reconcile the
most authentic profane writh sacred chronology, and eking
out the deficiency of dates and of evidence with conjecture,
some ingenious men have formed schemes of chronology’
plausible indeed, but not supported by sufficient authori¬
ties, which they would gladly persuade us to receive in
preference to any of those above mentioned. From the He¬
brew Bible Usher deduces four thousand and four years
as the term between the creation and the birth of Christ;
Josephus, according to Dr Wills and Mr Whiston, makes
it four thousand six hundred and fifty-eight years; and
M. Pezron, with the help of the Septuagint, extends it to
five thousand eight hundred and seventy-two years. But
Usher’s system is that most generally received.
But though these different systems of chronology are
inconsistent, and slenderly supported, yet the differences
among them are so inconsiderable in comparison with
those which arise when we contemplate the chronology
of the Chinese, the Chaldeans, and the Egyptians, and
they agree so w'ell with the general information of au¬
thentic history, and with the appearances of nature and of
society, that they may be considered as nearly fixing the
true period of the creation of the earth.
Moses relates (Gen. i. 1) that, “ in the beginning God
created tbe heavens and the earth. And the earth,” con¬
tinues he, “ was without form and void ; and darkness was
upon the face of the deep; and the Spirit of God moved
upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there
be light, and there was light. And God saw the light,
that it was good ; and God divided the light from the dark¬
ness. And God called the light day, and the darkness he
called night; and the evening and the morning were the
first day.” During five succeeding days the work of crea¬
tion was carried on. On the second day, a firmament was
made to separate the waters, and that firmament was call¬
ed heaven. On the third day the waters were collected
into seas, and the land from which the waters had retired
was caused to produce grass, and trees, and other plants.
On the fourth day, lights were made to appear in the fir¬
mament,in order to enlighten the earth, to divide the day
from the night, and to distinguish time into seasons and
years. On the fifth day the seas were peopled with whales
and other fishes, and the air with fowls. On the sixth day,
the earth was furnished with reptiles and quadrupeds of
all kinds; and on the same day, the first human pair, the
progenitors of the human race, were created in God’s own
image.
Some difficulties occur in comparing this account of the
creation with the laws which appear at present to regulate
the system of nature. We find it hard to conceive how
the earth, whilst yet a stranger to the influence of the sun,
could experience the vicissitudes of day and night, and
are astonished at the rapidity with which trees and herb¬
age first overspread its surface. The condition of matter
when the earth was without form and void, and the ope¬
ration of the Spirit of God on the face of the waters, are
equally mysterious.
'Some ingenious men have eagerly laboured to remove the
difficulties here indicated. Among these is Dr Burnet,
whose theory of the earth has long been considered as fanci¬
ful and ill founded. He supposes that the celestial bodies,
even the sun and all the other planets of the solar system,
existed long before the earth. The chaos on which the
Spirit of God moved, consisted, according to him, of the
first principles from which terrestrial bodies were formed.
When those laws by which the material world is regulat¬
ed first began to operate on the mass, he supposes that its
456
Creation.
C R E A
grosser and heavier parts sank towards the centre, and
there formed a solid ball; and that around this solid ball
two species of particles still floated together in confusion.
Of these, one being more volatile, would by degrees make
its escape from the other, leave it still recumbent on the
solid centre, and spread around it in an atmosphere. I he
middle stratum he composes of aqueous and oleaginous
fluids; and he has no doubt, that after the air had made
its escape, the levity of the oleaginous fluids would enable
them to rise above the aqueous, and dispose themselves
next the surface of the liquid mass. On this he supposes
the impure atmosphere to have then deposited a quantity
of terrene particles, sufficient to form, by intermixture
with the oils, a thick crust of rich earth for the produc¬
tion of plants and herbage, and for affording a habitation
to animals. This delicate shell he was careful not to fur¬
row with seas or load with mountains, either of which would
have reduced all to confusion. Such is his earth ; but
after moulding it with so much ingenuity, he refrains from
using the same freedom with the remainder of closes s ac¬
count of the creation. _
Moses, however, affords nothing which can with any pro¬
priety be used in the foundation of such a theory. He tells
not whether the chaos consisted of those terrene, aqueous,
oleaginous, and aerial particles which Dr Burnet finds in
it; he confines not the seas within a crust of earth; nor
does he inform us that the scenery of nature was not di¬
versified by hills and valleys. Besides, the author of this
theory has, without any evidence, supposed matter to have
been originally under the influence of laws very different
from those by which it is at present regulated. _ Oil, in¬
deed, whilst in a fluid state, floats on water ; but in a con¬
crete state it sinks like other solid bodies. If reduced into
that state by combination with terrene matters, sufficient
to render the mixture proper for the nourishment and pro¬
duction of vegetables, its specific gravity would be still
greater, and it would consequently sink so much the sooner.
How a concrete substance consisting of earth and oil could
float on water appears an inexplicable enigma. But we
need not take any pains in combating a theory which has
long since sunk into neglect and oblivion.
Mr Whiston treats both the scriptures and the laws of
nature with greater reverence ; yet he certainly involves
himself in no trifling difficulties in attempting to solve
those which the account of Moses presents. He supposes
that the sun, moon, and stars, are all more ancient than
the earth. The chaos from which the earth was formed
he represents as having been originally the atmosphere of
a comet. The six days of the creation he considers as
equal to six of our years; and he is of opinion that the
earth did not revolve daily round its axis, but only annu¬
ally round its orbit, till after the fall of man.
On the first day or year, therefore, the more ponderous
parts of the chaos were, according to this theory, conglo¬
merated into an orb of earth ; the chinks and interstices in
that orb were filled up with water; and the exterior part
or atmosphere was rarefied, so as to admit some faint glim¬
mering of the rays of the sun. On the second day, the
atmosphere was diffused to its due extent around the
earth, and reduced to a degree of rarity and purity which
rendered it still more suitable for the transmission of light;
the earth was still more consolidated; and the waters be¬
ing almost entirely excluded from the interstices which
they before occupied, were partly spread over the surface
of the earth, and partly raised in vapour into the atmo¬
sphere or firmament. On the third day, the earth’s sur¬
face became so irregular, in one place rising into hills, in
another sinking into valleys, as to cause the waters, which
before were equally diffused, to collect into seas and lakes,
leaving large tracts of ground unoccupied. And no sooner
T I o N.
had part of the earth’s surface been left bare by the waters Cr I,
than the genial influence of the sun produced on it a rich ^,
covering of herbage, and all the different species of vegeta- *
hies. On the fourth day, the earth was rendered subject
to the regular influence of the sun, moon, and stars. On
the fifth day or year, things were so far advanced that
fishes and fowls were produced from the waters. On the
sixth day the earth was furnished with animals; and the
lord of all the other animals, man, was also created.
Such is Mr Winston’s account of the phenomena of the
Mosaic creation. But he likewise assumes much more
than can reasonably be granted. The atmosphere of a
comet could not well be the primitive chaos. It is not an
obscure, but a pellucid fluid; and its exterior strata, if of
the same nature with the matter of our earth, must be
rarefied by its near approaches to the sun. Had the earth
not begun to revolve round its axis until after the work of
creation was completed, the immoderate degrees of heat
and cold which its different parts would have alternately
felt would in all probability have proved fatal to both
plants and animals. Even the most distorted interpreta- |
tion of Moses’s words cannot represent him as meaning to 1
inform us that the sun and moon were created at different
periods. But philosophy will scarcely permit us to ima¬
gine that the moon was formed before the earth, of which i
she is the satellite; and therefore we cannot agree with
Mr Whiston that the creation of the earth was later than
that of the remaining bodies of the solar system.
Among those who have endeavoured to explain the ori¬
ginal formation of the earth, and the changes which it has |
undergone, is M. de Luc. This cosmogonist, like Mr
Whiston, conceives that the days of the creation were much
longer periods of time than our present days. He seems
to think that the earth hau existed long before the Mosaic
creation, but that it began at that era to experience new
changes, and to be regulated by new laws; that all the
different events described by Moses in his history of the
creation actually took place in the order in which he re¬
lates them ; and that the days of Moses are indefinite
spaces of time, which must have been very long, but of
which we cannot hope to ascertain the precise length.
These are ingenious conjectures; but they do not appear
necessary, nor are they justified by facts.
It has been conjectured (Universal History, vol. i. p.
85), with some probability, that the creation of which
Moses is the historian was neither confined to the earth
alone, nor extended to the whole universe. The relation
which all the planets of the solar system bear to the same
illuminating body countenances the conjecture that they,
together with the luminary by which they are enlighten-
ed, were all created at one period; but it would perhaps
be conceiving too meanly of the benevolence, wisdom, and
active power of the Deity to suppose that, before that pe¬
riod, these had never been exerted in any work of crea¬
tion. Yet even here we have not demonstrative evidence.
On the supposition that the whole solar system was
created at once—a supposition which has at least the
merit of doing no violence to the narrative of Moses—the
creation of the sun and the other planets may be under¬
stood as having been carried on at the same time wit t e
creation of the earth. In that case, even in the course ot
the first day, though not longer than our present days,
these bodies might be reduced to such order, and t eir
relative motions so far established, as to begin the distinc¬
tion between light and darkness, or day and night. ^
On the second day, we may collect from Moses s nar¬
rative, that the atmosphere was purified, and the speci
gravities of aqueous vapour and atmospherical air so a -
justed as to render the latter capable of supporting
former.
C R E
n. On the third day the waters were first collected into
lakes and seas, but in what manner it is of course impos¬
sible to determine. Some call in the operation of earth¬
quakes; whilst others tell us that, when the earth was first
formed, the exterior strata were, at different parts of its
surface, of different specific gravities, and that the more
ponderous parts now sank nearer the common centre,
whilst the lighter, still remaining equally remote from it
as before, formed islands, continents, hills, and mountains.
But these are mere fancies; and we have no facts to offer
in their stead. On the latter part of this day vegetables
were caused to spring up on the earth ; and their growth
must have been much more rapid than we ever behold it
now; but by what particular act of supernatural power
this was effected it would be vain to inquire.
On the fourth day the sun, moon, and stars appeared
in the heavens. But according to the conjecture which
we have mentioned as plausible, though without ascribing
to it the evidence of certain truth, those heavenly bodies
are to be considered as having been created before this
day. They might now begin to exert their full influence
on the earth, in the same manner as they have ever since
continued to do.
The creation of the inanimate workl was thus finished,
and the earth prepared for the reception of animals. On
the fifth day, therefore, were the living inhabitants of the
air and the waters created.
On the sixth day the inferior animals inhabiting the
earth were first created; and after that the wholeWork
was crowned by the creation of a male and female of the
human species. To the account of the creation of the
animals, nothing certain can be added in explanation of
Moses’s narrative. As no more than one pair of the hu¬
man species were at first created, the same economy might
possibly be observed in the creation of the inferior animals.
CREBILLON, Prosper Jolyot de, a French writer
of tragedy, usually ranked after Corneille and Racine, was
born at Dijon on the 15th February 1674. He was ori¬
ginally destined for the profession of the law, and placed
at Paris with the view of prosecuting his legal studies;
but the impetuosity of his passions rendering him unfit
for business, he was urged by some friends, who discover¬
ed his natural turn, to attempt dramatic compositions. He
complied, but not until after many refusals ; and at length
produced a tragedy, w hich met with great success. He
then advanced in the career he had commenced, but was
checked by a fit of love for an apothecary’s daughter,
which ended in marriage. His father, doubly enraged at
his son for thus surrendering himself at once to love and
poetry, disinherited him ; but falling sick some years after-
! wards, he re-established his son in all his rights, and died.
Crebillon was, however, little benefited by his acquisitions,
the greater part having been wasted by anticipation ; and
thus, though high in fame, and at the prime of life, he
still continued poor. He lost his wife in 1711, and for¬
tune frowned upon him, until at length he obtained a place
in the French Academy, and the unworthy employment of
censor of the police. His circumstances were afterwards
more prosperous, and continued so to the end of a long life.
He died in 1762, at the age of eighty-eight, much regret¬
ted on account of his numerous virtues. He was of an
extremely robust temperament, without which he could
not have held out so long; for he ate prodigiously, and
continued to do so to the last. He slept little, and lay
as hard as if upon the floor; not from any pious principle
of self-mortification, but because he liked it. He was al¬
ways surrounded by' about thirty dogs and cats; and he
I nsed to smoke a great deal of tobacco in order to neutra-
! ize the exhalations from these animals. Whenever he
"as ill he treated himself according to his own fancy and
C R E
feelings; for he made a jest of physic and physicians. He
was also a dealer in bon mots. Being asked one day in
company', which of his works he thought the best; “ I
don t know, replied he, “which is my best production;
but this (pointing to his son) is certainly my worst.” The
principal pieces of Crebillon are Ictomenee, Rodogune,
Atree, Electre, Rhadamiste, Semiramis, Catalina, and Le
Triumvirat. The Pelopides is considered as a failure.
After the brilliant success of his Catalina, Louis XV.
caused the (Euvres de Crebillon to be printed at the royai
press of the Louvre, in 2 vols. 4to, 1750, the profits of
which were given to the author. The other editions are
those of 1757, 3 vols. 12mo; 1759, 2 vols. large 12mo;
1772, 3 vols. small 12mo; 1785, 3 vols. 8vo; 1796, 2 vols!
8vo; and 1812, Didot the elder, 3 vols. 8vo.
CREDENTIALS, letters of recommendation and pow¬
er, especially such as are given to ambassadors or public
ministers, by the prince or state that sends them to foreign
courts.
CREDIBILITY, a species of evidence, less indeed than
absolute certainty or demonstration, but greater than mere
possibility. It is nearly allied to probability, and seems
to be a mean between possibility and demonstration.
CREDIT, in the sense in which we are now to treat of
it, is the trust which is given to a person when he obtains
a loan of money, or purchases any article, the payment of
which is to be made at an after period. Every sum of
credit, therefore, must be founded on a transfer of a c6r-
responding sum of capital; and the whole amount of cre¬
dit existing at any time can never exceed that of the lent
capital. Credit is, in reference to the person who gives
it, the power of lending, and to him who receives it, the
power of borrowing. The basis of credit is confidence,
and this is found to exist extensively only where good faith
and punctuality have been allowed to grow into habit, and
where laws afford to creditors the easy and certain means
of recovering their debts.
In young countries, before dealings have become mul¬
tiplied, we find people inattentive to their money engage¬
ments, when there is no want of property with the debtor,
and even when the payment of the debt has been fixed
by document to a positive term. But as transactions in¬
crease, and population presses more closely together, a
knowledge of the circumstances of individuals is rendered
difficult, and a necessity for punctuality arises, to prevent
doubts being entertained of the ability to pay. And this
apprehension of discredit entertained by the debtor, and
of its consequences to his future transactions, has more
effect to establish and maintain good faith and exactness
than the operation of the laws is able to produce.
V hen capital is abundant, relatively to the means of
employing it, the competition of capitalists produces a fa¬
cility of obtaining credit; and parties become enabled to
borrow and purchase upon credit who could not do so be¬
fore. Credit is then said to be high, but it is the value
of the capital which, from the overstock, has become low.
The capitalist, in these circumstances, grows less scrupu¬
lous about his security, that he may bring within the range
of his dealings a greater body of borrowers or purchasers,
and thereby be enabled to keep up his price.
When the supply of capital continues in this state for
any length of time, it gives rise to an imprudence of con¬
duct which lays the foundation of much after evil. Sales
and loans are made at credits far beyond the ordinary pe¬
riods; and those into whose hands the extra capital by
this means passes, considering it as a fund with which
they may trade, go on also extending their dealings and
credits, until the whole system is put upon the stretch.
In this situation any interruption to the sale of commodi¬
ties occasions instant confusion and distress. The con-
3 M
457
Creden¬
tials
|l
Credit.
458
CREDIT.
Credit.
fidence which had prevailed gives place to alarm and dis¬
trust, and the same effect is produced for the time by the
retardment of the circulation that would have been expe¬
rienced had the capital itself been withdrawn.
By the operation of credit, not only is the circulation
of capital facilitated, and its employment increased; but
by its means alone certain descriptions of capital can be
brought into action. „ .
When an article is sold upon credit, the seller places,
for the time, a portion of his capital at the command ot a
party who may have no capital of his own. This person,
nevertheless, by another operation of credit, is enabled to
sell upon credit also, and still keep his engagement with
the party from whom he bought. This he accomplishes
by calling in the assistance of the money capitalist, the
banker, who advances to him the amount of the sale upon
his and his purchaser’s joint security, and receives in con¬
sideration a rent for. the sum advanced. By this process
facility and’ extension are given to circulation, beyond
what could take place if the commodity could be exchang¬
ed only for immediate value; whilst an opportunity is, at
the same time, afforded of employing a branch of capital
which would otherwise remain inactive and without use.
It is almost unnecessary to remark, that it is by the
operation of credit that a return is got from the capita
of persons who are incapable of employing it themselves,
and which can be put into a state of useful activity only
by lending it to others.
Even the fixed capital, when leased to a tenant, may
be said to be put into circulation by credit. For when a
landholder lets a farm, suppose of the value of J-10’000’
at the rent of L.400 a year, he lends the tenant L.IO.OUO
of capital, as much as if he lent him the money, and
bled him to acquire for the time the property upon which
he is to operate. .
In Scotland, after the disposition to commercial pur¬
suits began to manifest itself, the progress was retarded,
by the total want of commercial capital in the country.
To get the better of this difficulty, and draw to these em¬
ployments any little capital that otherwise existed, it be¬
came the practice, when a commercial undertaking was
to be entered upon, to associate in the adventure some
persons of known substance, and, upon the joint credit of
the parties forming the company, to borrow the capital
necessary for carrying it on. Ihe credit which was thus
established is called company credit, and is effectual to
its proposed end of borrowing or purchasing with advan¬
tage, according to the supposed responsibility of the par¬
ties of whom the company is composed.
Up to the year 1793 a considerable proportion of the
manufacturing and mercantile concerns of Scotland were
carried on upon this plan; and to give strength to their
credit, and encourage those who had money to lend to
place it with them, a rule was established, and confirmed
by decisions of the courts of law, that, in case of bank¬
ruptcy, a creditor of a company should be entitled to
claim upon each of the partners’ separate estates, in com¬
petition with the party’s individual creditors, for the ba¬
lance of his debt unpaid from the company’s effects.
When a party purchasing or borrowing capital gives a
written obligation for the amount, payable to the order of
his creditor at a certain fixed period, he embodies a sum
of credit capable of being exchanged again for capital;
and the transference of these documents to new parties,
who replace to the former creditor the capital he had lent
upon them, is what is called a circulation of credit. In¬
deed, without the use of bills, or of some instrument of
similar powers, credit must have been confined to a single
operation between first contracting parties, and the cir¬
culation of capital limited to what could have been effect¬
ed in this way. But a transferable document of the sum c §
to be received becomes itself a negotiable or marketable Wy
article; and the collective credit of the parties through
whose hands it may successively pass continuing to be
engrafted upon it, a new facility is gained to circulation
by every movement which it makes.
J The whole of the credit embodied by bills, however, is
not brought into circulation ; a part only of the sellers or
lenders requiring to have their capital replaced to them
by anticipation. But it is according to the expected fa¬
cility with which payments may be thus anticipated, that
credit is at first freely and readily given; and whenever
any thing occurs to impede the circulation of credit, there
is an immediate disposition in the merchant to withhold
or limit it.
Every transfer of capital made upon a buyer or borrow- I
er’s own obligation of payment creates a new sum of
transferable credit; and this is the case, although it should |
be the same capital that is again and again transferred. 1
But a sale of goods, or an advance of money upon the ob-
ligation of a third party, indorsed to the seller or lender,
forms no addition to the sum of circulating credit, the
transaction being the circulation, not the creation, of a
sum of credit. Neither does a succession of purchases or
borrowings, effected by means of the same document in¬
dorsed from the one party to the other, add to the sum of
credit in circulation. For although each of these trans¬
actions is the ground of a separate obligation between the
parties contracting, there is with the whole but one abso¬
lute creditor, the holder of the bill, and one absolute debt- !
or, the acceptor of the bill, the others being merely con¬
tingent debtors to the one, and contingent creditors of the
other.
Circulated credit is so be classed into that circulated by
loan, and that which is circulated by means of sale. The
first is the circulation of the credit founded upon the ob¬
ligation of individuals or private companies, and called pri¬
vate credit; the second, of that founded upon the obliga¬
tions of the state, or the transfers of the stock of corporate
bodies, and called public credit.
The documents of these two descriptions of credit pos¬
sess different and distinct qualities, and are differently ne¬
gotiable. It may be proper, therefore, to examine how
they are employed as means of borrowing or purchasing,
what are their separate powers, and what is the probable
extent of the circulation of each.
We shall begin with those belonging to private credit,
which are as follows: •> j !
First, Obligations payable to the bearer on demand,
and which, being passed without recourse, are employed
as money.
Secondly, Transferable obligations payable at an atter
date, as notes of hand and bills of exchange, which, being
negotiated with recourse upon the preceding obhgants,
are taken as guaranteed pledges of a sum to be received
when they become due.
The circulation of obligations, payable to the bearer on
demand, or notes employed as money, is the circulation ot
a credit borrowed by the issuer of the note fr<5m the pub¬
lic ; the holder of the note at the time is the creditor; and
the property he gave in exchange for it is a loan from him
to the banker. . . ,. .
As it is in the power of the party giving this credit at
any time to put. an end to it by calling for his money,
these notes circulate upon the credit of the issuer alon •
No assurance of payment is required from the person trom
whom they are received, as is the case with bills , tn
payment of which being at a future date, it is t mu^, i
cessary to reserve recourse against the parties fhroug
whose hands they have passed. The circulation o n
i
IT
CREDIT.
459
payable on demand is therefore a circulation of what may
be termed single credit, and bills a circulation of collec¬
tive credit.
When bank-notes ai’e issued by a banker in discount of
a bilk it may be supposed that a twofold credit is put into
circulation; a credit to the party to wh<jm the bill has
been discounted, and a counter credit from him to the is¬
suer of the notes. But in this stage of the transaction, no
circulation of credit has taken place. Credit is circulated
only when exchanged for capital, and in this case it has
been but the exchange of one credit for. another. The
banker, indeed, in giving his notes payable on demand in
exchange for a bill payable at a future date, gives what is
of a quality different from that which he receives; for
what he gives is immediately exchangeable for capital,
and to the person receiving it is the same as capital. But
still it is only credit he has parted with, which will not be
in a state of circulation until it comes to be exchanged
for capital. In as far as relates to circulation, the trans¬
action is the same with that of a person lending his cre¬
dit to another, by accepting a bill to him without value.
A sum of credit is thereby created, but is not circulated
until the bill comes to be exchanged for value.
The credit that is in circulation from the exchange of
bank-notes for a bill, is a credit from the party who at
the time has given capital or value for the notes. When
the banker “ cashes” them, he becomes the creditor, but
while they remain in circulation the public is the cre¬
ditor.
The amount of credit from the circulation of cash
notes never can be pushed beyond what would have been
the value of the specie that wmuld have been in circula¬
tion had the currency been of the precious metals, which
the notes only serve to represent. Should the notes cease
to be convertible into specie, their amount, indeed, may
be augmented at the pleasure of the issuer; but their
value, and the credit in circulation from them, will still be
regulated by this limit. The increased sum will represent
the value which the smaller did before, and each note will
be reduced in its value, in the proportion of the increase
that may have taken place of the whole.
This description of circulating credit is of a quality dif¬
ferent from the others. From supplying the place of ca¬
pital, in its character of currency, it is lent out as capital;
but loans from this fund are precarious, its amount de¬
pending upon the state of public confidence, and being lia¬
ble to be diminished by every call upon the banks to replace
the notes with specie.
Circulating notes, not convertible into specie*, issued
under the authority of the state, have been called a fabric
ot unreal credit. But this currency, however unsuitable
to its proper ends, affords a circulation of real credit. It
is indeed exposed to constant fluctuation of value, accord¬
ing to the amount of it in the circle ; and the party taking
it is obliged, for his own safety, to include in the price of
what he gives for it, sufficient to cover the difference be¬
tween it and specie, and the risk of further depreciation
while it may remain in his hands. Still, however, an
amount of credit, to the value of what has been given for
the notes, in the first instance, is put into circulation,
and an amount continued in circulation, to the value al¬
ways of what they are exchangeable for at the time;
the holders of them always remaining creditors of the is¬
suer, to the extent of the whole sum which the notes pro¬
fess to pay.
A currency of this description, however, is inapplicable
as a measure of value, and therefore unfit to be employed
as a circulating medium. And as to the other object,
mtended by its issuers to supply an amount of funds
t0 the state; the depreciation with which it must be is¬
sued at first, and the loss to be sustained from taking it
back again at par, render it an expensive means of bor¬
rowing.
With regard to obligations payable at a future date,
which constitutes the second branch of private credit, and
which we are next to consider, the credit founded on them
is circulated, either in the transfers of the ordinary capi¬
tal in sales, as when the credit of indorsed bills is em¬
ployed to purchase goods, or in the transfers of the bank¬
ing capital in loans, as when the credit of indorsed bills
is employed to borrow money; the transfer under the lat¬
ter, when the bill is exchanged for money, being often a
further circulation of a credit previously circulated under
the former, when the bill was exchanged for goods.
A fictitious bill, that is, an acceptance given without
value, vests in the person in whose favour it is drawn a
sum of transferable credit not less than would have been
the case if it had been the document of a sale, or loan of
property. Mr Thornton, in his treatise on Paper Credit,
established the doctrine, till then disputed, that the cre¬
dit ot a bill does not rest upon the nature of the transac¬
tion in which it has originated, but upon the conceived
ability of the obligants to discharge the debt.
The being able to embod}' in bills every sum of credit,
has furnished the means of employing, with incalculable
advantage to commerce, a portion of the capital of the
country, which otherwise, it is probable, would have re¬
mained inactive.
The security they afford for the repayment at a stipu¬
lated period of the sums lent upon them, furnishes the
means of an interim employment of money held for after
occasions, which the party would not otherwise venture
to lend out; of money which formerly lay idle in the
hands of parties unacquainted with any safe means of
using it; and of the money which traders are daily re¬
ceiving in the course of their business, but which they do
not immediately require. These different sums collected
in the hands of a banker, form what is called the banking-
capital of the country; and which, lent out upon such se¬
curities, produces not only a profit to him, but interest to
the parties who have placed them at his disposal. The
importance of this intermediary fund in the transactions
of the country is such, that when, from distrust, at any
time, these deposits are withheld or withdrawn from the
bankers, the mercantile body is convulsed throughout.
We now come to the second division of credit, that
circulated by sale; the documents of the first branch of
which are, the negotiable obligations of government, as
exchequer bills, navy bills, &e., and the whole of the pub¬
lic funds, constituting what is termed the credit of the
state.
When capital is to be competed for, this credit has an
advantage in the market over the former. Its price rises
according to the demand; and by that means it is enabled
to secure whatever share it may require of the supply.
This is not the case with the credit circulated by trans¬
fers of capital upon loan, the price or stipulated rent of
which cannot, whatever may be the demand, rise beyond
a prescribed limit. It has the effect, in these circum¬
stances, to force the capital applicable to this part of the
circulation to seek the employment of the other; so that
the inconvenience produced by an interruption of circula¬
tion from a diminution of the general capital, falls entirely
upon the circulation of bill credit, the supply for the cir¬
culation of the credit transferable by sale being kept full,
at the expense of that applicable to the circulation of cre¬
dit transferable by loan.
Hence all additions made to the national debt have
an effect to operate against the circulation of the credit
founded upon bills; for every new loan not only takes a
Credit.
460
C R E
C R E
Creech.
Crediton large sum permanently from the fund of circulation, but
adds a proportion of the newly-contracted debt to the
sum to be circulated; the consequence of which is a tail
in the market value of these securities, according to the
change which has taken place upon the two funds. But
this diminution of the means of circulation does not in¬
terrupt the circulation of government obligations, which
continue to command a supply of capital, by accommo¬
dating their price to the state of the market under every
pressure of circumstances. But when they happen to be
in this state, their circulation enters into competition with
government itself, in its biddings for the capital of new
loans. For the price they bear at the time fixes the terms
upon which the minister is enabled to make his bargain
with the money-lenders.
When government goes on for a length of time in a
course of borrowing, there is a progressive depreciation of
the value of these securities, in the exact degree in which
the loans take from the amount of the circulating capital,
and add to the sum of credit to be circulated. This was
strongly evinced in the fall of the- price of stock m the
early period of the war of 1793, notwithstanding the influ¬
ence at the time of an unprecedented accession of new
capital, proceeding from the greatest flow of commercial
prosperity which the country had ever experienced.
The transferable shares of public stock companies, from
being occasionally a means of temporary investment of
capital, have by some been considered as forming a part
of the circulating credit of the country. But this is not
the case. The stocks of these companies form a part of
the ordinary circulating capital; and of consequence, the
transfers of their shares are not operations of credit, but
exchanges of capital between the buying and selling par¬
ties. The transfers of the premiums, however, paid in
the purchase of this description of stock, which, although
no part of the capital, form an immediate part of the price,
may be fairly considered as a circulation of credit, to be
added to the amount of the circulating credit of the
country. The mode of circulating this credit being the
same with that of the public funds, and its market value
rising or falling with the general abundance 01 scaicity of
capital, its circulation, when capital is scarce, immediate¬
ly interferes with the circulation of credit by simple bor-
i-owing.
CREDITON, a market-town of the hundred of that
name, in Devonshire, 180 miles from London, and seven
from Exeter. It is situated on the river Creedy, which
turns some manufacturing and mealing mills. It is in a
fertile district, and was formerly a place of great trade
in making serges for Spain; but that trade has declined
or removed to the northern counties. The church, for¬
merly a cathedral, is a noble structure. Ihere is a well-
supplied market, which is held on Saturday. Tim inha¬
bitants amounted in 1811 to 5028, in 1821 to 5515, and
in 1831 to 5922.
CREDITOR, a person to whom any sum of money is
due, either by obligation, promise, or otherwise.
CREDULITY denotes a weakness of mind, by reason
of which a person yields his assent to propositions or facts,
before he has considered the evidence in support of them.
CREECH, Thomas, well known for his translations of
ancient authors, both in prose and verse, was son of Tho¬
mas Creech, and born near Sherborne, in Dorsetshire, in
1659. He was educated in grammatical learning under
Mr Curganven of Sherborne, to whom he afterwards de¬
dicated a translation of one of Theocritus’ Idylls, and en¬
tered as a commoner of Wadham College in Oxford, in
1675. Wood tells us that his father was a gentleman;
but Giles Jacob, in his Lives and Characters of English
Poets, states, that the circumstances of his parents not
being sufficient to afford him a liberal education, his dis-
position and capacity for learning raised him up a patron 43
in Colonel Strangeways, whose generosity supplied that
deficiency. But be this as it may, Creech distinguished
himself much, and was accounted a good philosopher and
poet, and a diligent student. On the 13th June 1683, he
took the degree of master of arts, and not long afterwards
was elected probationer fellow of All Souls College; to
which, Jacob observes, the great reputation acquired by
his translation of Lucretius recommended him. Wood
informs us, that upon this occasion he gave singular proofs
of his classical learning and philosophical attainments. He
also took the degree of B. D. on the 18th of March 1696.
He now began to be well known by the works he had pub¬
lished ; but Father Niceron observes, that they were of
no great advantage to his fortune, since his circumstances I
were always indifferent. In 1699, having taken holy orders,
he was presented by his college to the living of Welwynn,
in Hertfordshire ; but he had not long enjoyed his prefer- |
ment when he put an end to his own life. The motives ^
of this fatal catastrophe have been variously represented.
The author of the JSouvdies de Ui Republique ties Lettres
informs us, that in the year 1700 Mr Creech fell in love
with a woman who treated him with great neglect, al¬
though she was complaisant enough to several others; L
that this affront he could not bear, and resolved not to
survive it; and that having shut himself up in his study, 1
he there hanged himself, about the end of June 1700, and
was found suspended three days afterwards. Hie Poeti¬
cal Register, however, says nothing of the particular man¬
ner of his death, but only mentions that he unfortunately
made away with himself in the year 1701; and ascribes
this fatal catastrophe of Mr Creech’s life to the morose¬
ness of his temper, which made him less esteemed than
his great merit deserved, and engaged him in frequent
quarnfls and disputes. But from an original letter of Ar¬
thur cliarlett, preserved in the Bodleian Library, it has
since been discovered that this unhappy event was owing
to a very different cause. There was a fellow collegian,
of whom Creech frequently borrowed money ; but repeat¬
ing his applications too often, he met one day with such a
cold reception, that he retired in a fit of gloomy disgust,
and in three days was found hanging in his study. Creech’s
principal performances are, 1. A translation of Lucretius;
2. A translation of Horace, in which, however, he has
omitted some few odes ; 3. The Idylls of Theocritus, with
Rap in’s Discourse of Pastorals ; 4. A translation of Ma-
nilius’s Astronomicon ; besides translations of several parts
of Virgil, Ovid, and Plutarch, printed in different collec¬
tions. . , „ r •
CREED, a brief summary of the articles of religious
belief. . , ...
The most ancient form of creed is that which goes
under the name of the apostolic creed. Besides this there
are several other ancient forms and scattered remains ot
creeds to be met with in the records of the primitive
church. The first is the form of apostolical doctrine, col¬
lected by Origen; the second is a fragment of a creed
preserved by Tertulhan ; the third is the remains o a cree
in the works of Cyprian ; the fourth, a creed composed
by Gregory Thaumaturgus, for the use of his own churc i;
the fifth, the creed of Lucian the martyr; the sixt , e
creed of the apostolical constitutions. Besides these scat¬
tered remains of the ancient creeds, there are extan
some perfect forms, as those of Jerusalem, Cmsarea, An¬
tioch, &C. r i tUp
The most universal creeds are, the Apostolical, tne
Athanasian, and the Nicene. Ihese three creeds aie use
in the public offices of the church of England , an
scription to them is required of all the established c e
C R E ,
CREFELD, a circle in the Prussian province of Ju-
liers-Cleeve-Berg, extending over 109 square miles, and
comprising five cities, one market-town, twenty-two vil-
il lages, and 36,094 inhabitants, who are among the most
industrious of any of the subjects of Prussia.
Crefeld, a city, the capital of the circle of the same
name. It is a walled town, well built, though in a marshy
situation, and contains churches of the different religious
confessions. The inhabitants in 1817 were 14,791; but
since that time they are calculated to have increased to
upwards of 20,000. Various manufactures are carried on
in cotton, linen, woollen, and silk; but the latter has more
especially been extended of late years, and the produce
of their looms rivals that of Lyons, of Spittalfields, and
of Coventry, in the London shops. The city and its in¬
habitants, in their cleanliness, industry, and economy, bear
a stronger resembfance to the Hollanders than to the Ger¬
mans. Like the former, they cultivate all culinary vege¬
tables extensively, and around the city there are more
than 2000 market gardeners.
CRELLIUS, John, a famous Socinian, born in 1590,
in a village near Nuremberg. In 1612 he went into Po¬
land, where the Unitarians had a school, in which he be¬
came professor of divinity and minister at Cracow, where
he died in 1632, aged forty-two. Crellius wrote, 1. Ethica
Aristotelica, ad Sacrarum Literarum normam emendata,
1650, 4to; 2. De Deo et attributis ejus, Cracow, 1630; 3.
De mo Deo patre libri duo, in quibus multa etiam de Filii
et Spiritus Sancti naturd, 1631, 8vo; 4. Declaratio senten-
tice de causis mortis, Christi, 1637, 8vo ; 5. Vindicue pro Re-
ligionis libertate, 1637, 8vo ; 6. De Spiritu Sancto qui jide-
libus datur, 1650, 8vo ; 7. Catechesis ecclesiarum Poionica-
rum reformata et redacta primum per Faustum Socinum et
alios, nunc a J. Crellio, etc. recognita, Irenopoli, 1665,
1680, 1684, 8vo; and other works, including a German
translation of the New Testament, and Comnrerltjlhes on
some of the Epistles. v
CREMA, a city of the delegation of Lodi, and govern¬
ment of Milan, in the Austrian kingdom of Venetian Lom¬
bardy. It is situated on the river Serio, and is the seat of
a bishop, and, besides the cathedral, contains thirty-two
churches, several palaces, 800 houses, and 8420 inhabi¬
tants. In a district between the marsh of More and the
river Adda much flax is raised, and much linen cloth made
in the city. It has also manufactures of silk and of hats.
Long. 9. 36. 37. E. Lat. 45. 21. 9. N.
CREMATION is sometimes used for burning, particu¬
larly when applied to the ancient custom of burning the
dead. This custom is well known to have prevailed among
most eastern nations, and it continued with their descend¬
ants after they had peopled the different parts of Europe.
i Hence we find it prevailing in Greece, Italy, Gaul, Britain,
1 Germany, Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, until Christia¬
nity abolished it.
CREMONA, a delegation of the government of Milan,
in the Austrian kingdom of Venetian Lombardy, bounded
on the north by Brescia, on the east by Mantua, on the
south by Parma, and on the west by Lodi. It extends
over 500 square miles, or 320,000 English acres, and was
inhabited in 1817 by 170,960 individuals. The delega¬
tion is subdivided into nine districts, containing two cities,
seven market-towns, anti one hundred and eighty villages,
in all of which are 19,300 houses. It is a level district,
producing heavy crops of wheat, rice, and maize, yielding
abundance of silk and flax, and possessing appropriate
stocks ol black cattle, but very few sheep. The greatest
scarcity experienced is that of wood for fuel and for build-
mg* There are not any manufactures worthy of notice,
except that of spinning silk.
Cremona, the capital of the delegation of that name, in
C R E 401
Italy, is a city on the Po, containing 26,000 inhabitants, and Crenelle
is the seat of a bishop. It has upwards of forty churches, II
including the cathedral. It is well built, without fortifica- CrePidaB-
tions. Its chief trade is in silk and linen cloth, and musi-
cal instruments.. Long. 9. 54. 52. E. Lat. 45. 7. 43. N.
CRENELLE, or Imbattled, in Heraldry, is used
when any honourable ordinary is drawn, like the battle¬
ments on a wall to defend men from the enemy’s shot.
This attribute belongs to the arms of such as have de¬
fended castles for their prince and country, or of such as
are skilled in architecture.
CRENOPHYLAX, \u Antiquity, a magistrate of Athens,
who had the inspection of fountains.
CREODIBA, in the customs of the middle ages, a rob¬
bery and murder committed in a wood, where" the body
of the person killed was burnt in order to prevent the dis¬
covery of the crime. The word, says Wendelinus, is conir
pounded of cruy and divert, that is, wood-robbers.
CREOLES, a name originally given to the families de¬
scended from the Spaniards who first settled at Mexico,
in America. These are much more numerous than the
Spaniards properly so called, and the Mulattoes, from
which species of inhabitants they are distinguished; and
formerly they were excluded from all considerable em¬
ployments. The name is now used in a more extensive
sense, and applied to all natives of the West Indies.
CREON, king of Corinth, was son of Sisyphus. He
promised his daughter Glauce to Jason, who had repu¬
diated Medea; but to revenge the success of her rival,
Medea sent her as a present a gown covered with poison.
Glauce put it on, and was seized with sudden pains; her
body took fire, and she expired in the greatest torments.
The house also was consumed by the fire, and Creon and
his family shared Glauce’s fate.
Creon, son of Mencetius, was father of Jocasta, the
wife and mother of (Edipus. At the death of Laius, who
had married Jocasta, Creon ascended the vacant throne
of Thebes. But as the ravages of the Sphynx were into¬
lerable, Creon offered his crown and his daughter in mar¬
riage to him who could explain the enigmas which the
monster proposed. (Ldipus was happy in his explanations,
and having ascended the throne of Thebes, he married Jo¬
casta without knowing that she was his mother, and by
her had two sons, Eteocles and Polynices, who mutually
agreed, after their father’s death, to reign alternately a
year each. Eteocles first ascended the throne by right of
seniority; but when he was once in power he refused to
resign at the appointed time, and his brother led against
him an army of Argives to support his right. The war was
decided by a single combat between the two brothers,
who killed each other, and Creon ascended the throne
until Leodamus, the son of Eteocles, should be of suffi¬
cient age to assume the reins of government. In his regal
capacity, he ordained that the Argives, and more par¬
ticularly Polynices, who was the cause of all the blood¬
shed, should remain unburied; and if this was in any man¬
ner disobeyed, that the offenders should be buried alive.
Antigone, the sister of Polynices, transgressed, and was
punished accordingly. Haemon, the son of Creon, who
was passionately fond of Antigone, killed himself on her
grave when his father refused to grant her pardon. Creon
was afterwards killed by Theseus, who had made war
against him because he refused burial to the Argives.
CREPANCE, in the manege, a chop or cratch in a
horse’s leg, given by the spunges of the shoes of one of
the hinder feet crossing and striking against the other
hinder foot. This cratch degenerates into an ulcer.
CREPIDtE, among the Romans, a kind of slippers or
shoes, which were always worn with the pallium, as the
calcei were with the toga.
462
Crepundia
C R E
CRE^UNDIA, in Antiquity, a term used to express
such things as were exposed along with children, as rings,
jewels, &c. serving as tokens by which they might aiter-
wards be known.
CREPUSCULUM, in Astronomy, twilight; the time
from the first dawn or appearance of the morning to the
rising of the sun; and again, between the setting ot the
sun and the last remains of day.
CRESCENT, the new moon, which, as it begins to re¬
cede from the sun, shows a little rim of light, terminating
in points or horns, which increase till it becomes full and
round in the opposition. The word is formed from cresco,
I grow. The term is also used for the same figure ot the
moon in its wane or decrease, but improperly; because
the points or horns are then turned towards the west,
whereas in the just crescent their direction is towards
the east. , . . c c „
Crescent, in Heraldry, is a bearing in the form ot a
half moon. The Ottomans bear sinople, a crescent mon-
tant, argent. .
The crescent is frequently used as a difference in coat
armour, to distinguish it as that of a second brother 01
junior family. . „ ^ . , ,
The figure of the crescent is the Turkish symbol ; or
rather it is that of the city of Byzantium, which bore this
device from all antiquity, as appears from medals struck
in honour of Augustus, Trajan, and others. .
The crescent is sometimes montant, that is, its points
look towards the top of the chief, which is its most 01 di¬
nary representation; and hence some contend, that the
crescent, absolutely so called, implies that situation;
though other authors blazon it montant, when the horns
are towards the dexter side of the escutcheon, in which
position others call it incroissant.
Crescents are said to be adossed, when their backs 01
thickest parts are turned towards each other, and their
points look towards the sides of the shield. Crescent in¬
verted, is that whose points look towards the bottom; but
turned crescents are placed like those adossed, the differ¬
ence being, that all their points look to the dexter side of
the shield; conturned crescents, on the contrary, look to the
sinister side; and affronted or appointed crescents are con¬
trary to the adossed, the points looking towards each other.
Crescent is also the name of a military order, institut¬
ed in 1448 by Renatus of Anjou, king of Sicily, &c.; and
so called from the badge or symbol thereof, wbich is a
crescent of gold enamelled. What gave occasion to this
establishment was, that Renatus took for his device a
crescent, with the word loz, praise, which, in the style
of rebus, makes loz in crescent, that is, by advancing in
virtue, one merits praise.
Crescent Island is situated in the Pacific Ocean. It
is six or seven miles in circumference, and is situated in
long. 225. 30. E. and lat. 23. 22. S.
CRESCENTINO, a town of Italy, in the province of
Bercelli and kingdom of Sardinia. It is situated on the
river Po, and contains 3960 inhabitants.
CRESCIMBENI, John Maria, an Italian poet, was
born at Macerata, in the march of Ancona, in 1663. His
talents for poetry and eloquence early developed them¬
selves'. His verses at first had too much pomp and point;
but by residing in Rome, and by reading the best Italian
poets, he brought himself back to nature. And he not
only reformed himself, but undertook to reform taste in
general. With this view he projected the establishment of
a new academy, under the name of Arcadia ; the members
of which at first did not exceed fourteen, but afterwards
increased considerably. They called themselves the shep¬
herds of Arcadia, and each took the name of some shep¬
herd and some place in that ancient kingdom. The found-
C R E
er of this society was appointed chief director in 1690, and (V.L
held this honourable post thirty-eight years, that is, until
his death, which happened in the year 1728. .In Niceron a f [|
list is given of his works, the principal of which are, 1. Is. ^ *
toria della volyar Poesia, Rome, 1698, 4to ; 2. I Commen¬
tary intorno alia detta Istoria, 5 vols. 4-to; 3. Le Vitede
piu celebri poeti Provenzali tradotte dal Francese, e accres-
ciuti di moltissimi poeti, Rome, 1722, 4to ; 4. Trattato del¬
la bellezza della volgar poesia, Rome, 1700, 4to; wista¬
ria dArcadia, Rome, 1709, 4to; 6. Istoria della Basilica
di S. Maria in Cosmedin col ristretto di molte altre chiese
di Roma, Rome, 1715, 1719, 4to; 7. Istoria della chiesa
di S. Giovanni a porta Latina, Rome, 1716, 4to; 8. h-
toria della Basilica di S. Anastasia, Rome, 1722, 4to;
9. Stato della sacrosanta chiesa papale Lateranese, Rome,
1724, 4to; 10. Omelie et Orazioni di papa Clemente XL,
volgarizzate, Florence, 1704, 4to, Venice, 1714, 8vo; 11.
Vita de Monsignore Gio. Maria Lancisi, medico di papa
Clemente XI., Rome, 1721, 4to; 12. Vita di Monsignore
Gabrielio Filipucci, Rome, 1724, 4to; 13. Atti della coro¬
na zione del Cavalier Perfetti, fatta in Campidoglio, Rome, j
1725, 4to; 14. LElvio, favola pastorale, Rome, 1695, 8vo;
15. Rime del Crescimbeni, Rome, 1695, 12mo; 16. Gli
Apologhi di Berardino Baldi tradotti in versi, Rome,
1702, 12mo; 17. Compendia della vita della beatissima Vcr-
gine, Rome, 1724,16mo; besides a number of works edited
by him.
CRESSY, a market-town in the department of the
Somme, in France, on the river Maye. It contains at
present 1318 inhabitants; but its ancient celebrity was j
derived from the victory gained on the field to the south-
west of the town in the year 1346, by the English army
under Edward the Black Prince.
CREST, in armoury, denotes the uppermost part of an
armoury, or that part rising over the cask or helmet.
Next to the mantle, says Guillim, the crest or cognizance
claims the highest place, being seated on the most emi¬
nent part of the helmet, yet so as to admit an interposi¬
tion of some escrol, wreath, chapeau, crown, or the like.
The ancient warriors wore crests to strike terror into
their enemies, at the sight of the spoils of animals they
had killed ; or to give them the more formidable mien, by
making them appear taller and fiercer.
In the ancient tournaments, the cavaliers had plumes
of feathers, especially those of ostriches and herons, for
their crests : these tufts they called plumarts, and they
were placed in tubes, on the tops ot high caps or bonnets.
Some had their crests of leather; others of parchment, !
pasteboard, &c. painted or varnished, to keep out mois- |
ture ; others of steel, wood, &c. on which were sometimes ,
represented a member or ordinary of the coat, as an eagle,
fleur-de-lis, &c. but never any of those called honourable
ordinaries, as pale, fesse, &c. The crests were changeable
at pleasure ; being reputed merely an arbitrary device or
ornament. .
Herodotus attributes the origin of crests to the Canans,
who first bore feathers on their casks, and painted figures
on their bucklers, whence the Persians called them cocks.
The crest is esteemed a greater mark of nobility than
the armoury, as being borne at tournaments, to w m
none were admitted until they had given proof ot their
nobility. Sometimes it serves to distinguish the several
branches of a family. It has also been employed, on oc¬
casion, as the distinguishing badge of factions. Some¬
times the crest is taken from the device; but more usua y
it is formed of some piece of the arms. Thus, the em¬
peror’s crest is an eagle; that ot Castile, a c'
Families which exchange arms, as the houses o run
wick and Cologne have done, do not change their crests;
the first still retain the horse, and the latter the mermai .
CUE
C R E 463
Crest, in Heraldry, the figure placed above the helmet
. in an achievement.
CRETE, one of the largest islands in the Mediterra¬
nean, situated between the 35th and 36th degrees of
east longitude, and between the 22d and 27th degrees of
north latitude. The Cretan mythologists, quoted by Dio¬
dorus Siculus, relate that the first inhabitants of the island
were the Dactyli Idaei, who dwelt around Mount Ida, and
were regarded as magicians, because they possessed a va¬
riety of knowledge, and were particularly skilled in reli¬
gious mysteries. Orpheus, who distinguished himself so
highly in poetry and music, was their disciple. They dis¬
covered the use of fire, iron, and brass, and invented the
art of working these metals in Berecynthius, a mountain
near Aptera. Those invaluable discoveries procured them
divine honours. One of them, named Hercules, rendered
himself famous by his courage and exploits, and instituted
the Olympic games; though posterity, by a mistake, have
ascribed that institution to the son of Alcmena, who, in¬
deed, trode in the footsteps of his predecessor, and also
raised himself to immortality.
The Dactyli Idaei were the ancestors of the Curetes.
The latter originally inhabited the forests and caves of the
mountains ; but they afterwards entered into domestic life,
and by their institutions contributed to the civilization of
mankind. They taught men to collect flocks of sheep, to
tame wild animals for domestic purposes, and to entice bees
into hives, that they might rifle them of the fruit of their
labours; they first prompted men to the chase, and taught
the use of the bow; and they were the inventors of swords
and of military dances. The noise which they made, by
dancing in armour, prevented Saturn from hearing the cries
of Jupiter, whose education Rhea had intrusted to them,
and whom, with the assistance of the nymphs, they brought
up in a cave in Mount Ida, feeding him with the milk of
the goat Amalthea, and with honey.
To this period mythology assigns the origin of the Ti¬
tans ; their abode near Gnossus, where stood the palace
of Rhea; their travels over the whole earth ; their war
against Ammon, and his defence by Bacchus; the nup¬
tials of Jupiter and Juno, celebrated near the river The-
renus in Crete ; and the gods, goddesses, and heroes who
descended from them.
Of these heroes the most illustrious wrere Minos and
Rhadamanthus. They are said to have been the sons of
Jupiter and of Europa, who had been conveyed into the
island on a bull. Minos having become king, built several
cities; the most considerable of which were Gnossus, on
that side of the island which faces Asia, Phoestus on the
southern shore, and Cydon on the western side facing the
I Peloponnesus. He gave to his subjects a code of admir¬
able laws, which he pretended to have received from his
father Jupiter in the grotto of Mount Ida.
Rhadamanthus distinguished himself by the impartia¬
lity of his judgments, and by the inflexible severity with
which he inflicted punishment on the impious and the
wicked. His empire extended over the chief isles of the
Archipelago; and the inhabitants of the adjacent coasts
of Asia submitted to him on account of his high reputa¬
tion for probity and justice. Mythologists 'have consti¬
tuted him judge in the regions below, to determine the
future state of the righteous and the wicked : they have
! conferred on him the same honours which were bestowed
i on Minos, the justest of kings.
Thus far have been followed the Cretan traditions as
these are related by Diodorus ; but historians differ as to
i the degree of truth or probability which they involve,
there are a variety of opinions concerning the original
■nhabitants of Crete. Strabo, who has discussed the sub¬
set with great erudition, says, “ I am not fond of fables ;
yet I have detailed these at some length, because they
ai e connected with theology. Every discourse concerning
the gods should examine the religious opinions of antiqui¬
ty, and distinguish them from fable. The ancients were
pleased to conceal their knowledge of nature under a veil.
It is now impossible to unfold the meaning of their enig¬
mas. But by exposing to light the numerous allegories
which they have left us, and examining attentively their
mutual relations and differences, genius may perhaps be
able to unfold the truths which are couched under them.”
But leaving mythology for the more certain records and
monuments of history, we find that Crete received its name
from Cres, the first of its monarchs, and the author of se¬
veral useful inventions, which contributed to the happiness
of his subjects. Prompted by gratitude, they endeavoured
to perpetuate the memory of his favours, and to immortal¬
ize his name, by naming the island after him. In order
to distinguish the true Cretans from strangers, they were
named Eteocretes. A number of colonies, from different
parts of Greece, settled in the island; the salubrity of the
climate, and the fertility of the soil, having induced them
to fix their habitation there. The Lacedaemonians, Ar-
gives, and Athenians, were the principal people who sent
colonies into Crete. “ Crete,” says Homer, “ is an ex¬
tensive island in the midst of the stormy main. The soil
is rich and fertile. It contains an immense number of in¬
habitants. It is adorned w ith a hundred cities. Its inha¬
bitants speak in various languages. We find there Achaeans,
valiant Eteocretes, Cydonians, Dorians, and godlike Pelas-
gians.” The Eteocretes inhabited the southern division
of the island, where they built the city of Proesus, and
erected a temple to the Dictaean Jove.
Cres was not the only monarch who reigned in the island
of Crete. Pie had a series of successors ; but history affords
little information concerning them. The names of a few
of them only are preserved, and a small number of events
which happened under the reign of others are related,
but the latter are disfigured with an intermixture of fable.
Among these monarchs we find two of the name of Jupi¬
ter, and two of that of Minos. However, most writers con¬
found them, and ascribe to one the transactions and ex¬
ploits which should be shared between both.
This remark chiefly regards Minos, who was esteemed
the wisest legislator of antiquity. The office assigned him
in the regions below is a certain proof of his having gained
an exalted reputation by his justice upon earth. Greece,
says Plato, has with great propriety adopted the laws of
Crete ; for they are founded upon the solid basis of rea¬
son and equity, and have a natural tendency to i-ender the
people who live in subjection to them opulent and happy.
One of these laws forbade the Cretans ever to carry their
festivity so far as to intoxicate themselves with wine. An¬
other contained the following eminently conservative pro¬
vision : “ Let young people not canvass the laws with an
indiscreet curiosity; let tlrem not examine whether the
lawgiver has done right or wrong in promulgating them;
but let them join unanimously in declaring them good,
since they proceed from the gods. If any of the old men
perceive something in them meriting amendment, let him
mention it to the magistrate, or discuss it with his equals,
but never in the presence of the young people.” The Cre¬
tan code was engraven on tablets of brass ; and Talos, chief
minister to Minos, visited all the towns and cities in the
island three times a year, to observe in what manner the
laws were executed and obeyed. The king of Crete, aware
that an infusion of the marvellous is useful in commanding
the belief and enforcing the obedience of the multitude,
pretended that he had received those laws from his father
Jupiter, in the grotto of Mount Ida. In the same manner,
Lycurgus, before promulgating his laws, repaired to Del-
Crete.
464
CRETE.
Crete.
phi, and gave out that they had received the sanction of
Apollo. A like reason induced Numa to pretend to an in¬
timacy with the nymph Egeria, and Mahommed to ascribe
his doctrines and institutions to the revelation of the angel
Gabriel. „ ,
In contradiction of this account, however, others ot tne
ancients describe Minos as a prince abandoned to the tury
of his passions, and a barbarous conqueror. Having tallen
furiously in love with the nymph Dictynna, who refuse
to gratify his wishes, he pursued her to the brink ot the
shore, and forced her to plunge into the sea, where she
was saved by some fishermen, who received icr in e
nets. He was the first of the Greeks who appeared in the
Mediterranean at the head of a naval armament. He con¬
quered the Cyclades, expelled the Carians, established
Cretan colonies in those islands, and committed the g
vernment of them to his son. , . .
Being informed, while he was at Paros, that his son An¬
drogen! was slain at Athens, he declared war against Egeus,
and imposed on him a disgraceful as well as cruel tribute,
from the payment of which Theseus delivered his country.
He took arms against Nisus, king of Megara; made him
prisoner by the treachery of his daughter Scylla; and put
him to death, together with Megarus, the son of Hippo-
manes, who had brought some forces to Ins assistance.
Daedalus, who had by some means incurred his displeasure,
despairing of pardon from so severe and inflexible a pi ince,
employed the resources of his inventive genius in order to
escape from his power. He fled to Sicily, gained the pro¬
tection of King Cocalus, and obtained an asylum in his
court. Valerius Flaccus has described his flight in a very
lively and picturesque manner. “ Thus Daedalus, with
the wings of a bird, ascended from Mount Ida. Beside
him soared the comrade of his flight, with shorter wings.
They appeared like a cloud rising in the air. Minos, seeing
his vengeance thus eluded, glowed with impotent rage. In
vain he followed with his eyes the secure flight of his ene¬
mies through the wide expanse of heaven. His guards
returned to Gortynia with their quivers filled with arrows.
The Cretan monarch did not, however, give up his prey.
He equipped a fleet, pursued the fugitive to Sicily, and
fell before the walls of Camicum.
It is plain that these actions are unsuitable to the cha¬
racter of that just monarch, whose merits raised him to
the office of determining, in the regions below, the un¬
alterable fate of the righteous and the wicked. We may
therefore reasonably conclude that Minos the legislatoi
was a different person from Minos the conqueror; that it
was the former who gained a lasting reputation by his wis¬
dom and justice ; .that it was the latter who subdued most
of the islands of the Archipelago, but, being enslaved by
his passions, tarnished his glory by cruelty and a merciless
thirst for vengeance.
The last king of Crete was Idomeneus. This prince,
accompanied by Merion, conducted twenty-four ships to
the assistance of Agamemnon. Homer informs us ot the
illustrious exploits by which he signalized himself before
the walls of Troy. 'At his departure he committed the
government of his kingdom to Leucus, his adopted son,
promising him the hand of his daughter Clisithera if he
governed wisely in his absence. But that ambitious young
man forgot the favours which had been so lavishly bestow¬
ed on him; and having gained a number of partisans, he
in a short time aspired to the immediate possession of the
crown. His impatience would not wait till he should ob¬
tain it lawfully by marriage. Flattering himself, from the
long absence of the king, that he had perhaps fallen before
Troy, he determined to mount the throne. Mida, wife of
Idomeneus, and the princess Clisithera, were however ob¬
stacles to the gratification of his wishes. But ambition
knows no restraint, and tramples under foot the most sacred q
Knows I1U icon cii***'?  1 , ~ . . '-u V
obligations. This base wretch having seduced the people U,
from their allegiance, and captivated the affections of the
nobles, sacrificed these unfortunate victims in the temple.
When Idomeneus, crowned with laurels, landed on the
coast of Crete, Leucus, who had now firmly established
his power, attacked him with an armed force, and obliged
him to reimbark. But a different account is given of the
banishment of Idomeneus. Servius says that he had vowed,
in a storm, to sacrifice to the gods the first person whom
his eyes should behold on the Cretan shore, tnat his son
having met him first after his arrival, he fulfilled his vow
by sacrificing him; and that the island, being soon after¬
wards depopulated by pestilence, the inhabitants looked
upon that affliction as the effect of divine vengeance, and
expelled the parricide, who, having retired to Italy, found¬
ed Salentum, on the Messapian coast. But this opinion
appears to be entirely groundless. History mentions no
son of Idomeneus. If he had had a son of his own blood,
why did he adopt Leucus ? Why did he trust to the lat¬
ter the government of the island, when he promised him
his daughter in marriage ? The more probable opinion is,
that the plague was introduced into the island by bis ships,
when he returned from the siege of Troy; and that Leu¬
cus artfully made use of that pretext to expel bis lawful
sovereign. Ibis is the statement ot Flerodotus, but it
appears that the usurper did not long enjoy the fruit of his
crimes. Soon after the departure of Idomeneus, monarchy
was abolished, and the government of Crete became re¬
publican. .
The Cretan government, soon after the expulsion of
Idomeneus, became aristocratical. The power was divid¬
ed between the nobles and the people; yet as the chief
employments were occupied by the nobles, they directed
the administration of affairs. Ten magistrates were an¬
nually elected, by a majority of voices, in the national
assembly. They were named cosmoi, and their public
office and character were nearly the same with those of
the ephori at Sparta. They were the generals of the re¬
public in time of war, and directed all affairs of impor¬
tance. They had the right of choosing certain old men
as counsellors. The latter, to the number of twenty-eight,
composed the Cretan senate. They were chosen from
among those who had discharged the office of cosmoi, or
had distinguished, themselves by extraordinary merit and
blameless probity; and they continued in office during
life, possessed a weighty influence, and were consumed
in every affair of importance. This body formed a barrier
which the wisdom of the legislator had opposed against the
ambition of the ten chief rulers. Another restraint was
imposed on their power, by limiting the period of their ao-
ministration to one year ; and as the suffrages oi the people
might be obtained by bribery or personal influence, and
of "consequence their choice might sometimes .fall on a
man unworthy of so honourable an office, it was provided
that he who had been undeservedly advanced to the dig¬
nity of cosmos should be degraded, either in a nationa
assembly, or simply by the voices of his colleagues, ns,
no doubt, is what Plato alludes to when he says, Neither
the commonwealth, which approaches too near to a mo¬
narchical constitution, nor that which affects a licentiou
liberty, is founded on the solid basis of a just meihum be¬
tween anarchy and despotism. The Cretans an
daemonians, by establishing theirs on firmer foundations,
avoided those fatal extremes. 04minis-
Such were the distribution of power and the admin
tration of public affairs in the Cretan governmen.
simplicity was admirable. A people who were
with the sacred enjoyment of liberty, but who p
not sufficient knowledge and discernment to direct
C R
selves, elected magistrates, to whom they delegated their
L/ authority. These magistrates, thus clothed with sovereign
authority, chose senators to assist and direct their delibe¬
rations. But these counsellors could neither enact nor de¬
cide of themselves ; they held their office for life, and that
circumstance contributed to strengthen their influence and
to increase their experience. The magistrates were ani¬
mated by the most powerful motives to distinguish them¬
selves, when in office, by unwearied activity in the public
service. On one side they were restrained by the fear
of degradation ; and on the other, actuated by the hope of
becoming one day members of the national council.
All the Cretans were subjected to the power of the
magistrates, and divided into two classes, the adults and
the youth. Men arrived at maturity were admitted into
the first class. The second consisted of all the young
men who w^ere not below the age of seventeen. The so¬
ciety of adults ate together in public halls. There rulers,
magistrates, poor and rich, seated together, partook, with¬
out distinction, of the same simple fare. A large bowl,
filled with wine and water, which went round the com¬
pany from one to another, was the only drink which they
were allowed. None but the old men had a right to call for
more wine. A woman was appointed to preside at each
table; a circumstance which of itself indicates a great ad¬
vance in civilization ; and in this capacity she openly dis¬
tributed the most exquisite meats to those who had dis¬
tinguished themselves by their valour or wisdom. This
preference was so far from exciting envy or jealousy,
that it only prompted every person to deserve it by brave
and prudent conduct. Near where the citizens sat, two
tables were laid, which they named Hospitable, and where
all strangers and travellers were entertained ; and there
was also a particular house set apart by the public, in
which they might spend the night.
To supply the public expenses, every citizen was ob¬
liged to bring a tenth part of his annual income into the
treasury; and it w:as the duty of the chief magistrates to
take care that every person contributed his proportion.
In Crete, says Aristotle, one part of the fruits of the earth,
of the produce of the flocks, of the revenues of the state,
and of the taxes and customs, is sacred to the gods, and
the other is distributed among the members of the com¬
munity; so that men, women, and children, all subsist at
the public expense.
After dinner, the magistrates and senators usually spent
some time in deliberating on the affairs of the state; they
next recounted the noble deeds which had been done in
war, celebrated the courage of their most distinguished
warriors, and animated the youth to heroic valour. These
- assemblies were the first school of the youth. At the age
, of seven, the boy was permitted to handle the bow ; and
from that time he was admitted into the society of the
adults, where he continued till the age of seventeen. There,
sitting on the ground, and clothed in a plain and coarse
dress, he served the old men, and listened, with respect¬
ful silence, to their admonitions. His young heart was
inflamed by the recital of noble deeds in arms, and glowed
nith ardour to imitate them ; he acquired habits of so¬
briety and temperance; and being constantly witness of
i ustrious examples of moderation, wisdom, and patriotism,
tm seeds of virtue were thus sown and fostered in his
leait before he attained the full use of reason.
He was early accustomed to arms and to fatigue, that he
might learn to endure excessive heat or cold, to 'clamber
th ? amono hffi® and precipices, and to bear manfully
i e blows and wounds which he might receive amid the
gymnastic exercises or in battle. But his education was not
confined to the gymnastic exercises; he was also taught
o sing the Ws, which were written in verse, with a cer-
vol. vii.
E T E.
tain species of melody, in order that the charms of music
might dispose him to learn them with more pleasure, and
might impress them more deeply on his heart, and that, if
he should ever transgress them, he might not have the
excuse of ignorance to offer. He next learned hymns in
honour of the gods, and poems composed in praise of he¬
roes. When he reached his seventeenth vear, he retired
from the society of the adults, and became a member of
that of the young men.
But here his education was still carried on. He exer¬
cised himself in hunting, wrestling, and fighting with his
companions. Martial music was played on the lyre; and
he learned to follow exactly the sounds and measure of
the musician. Those sports and exercises were attended
with danger, because arms of steel were sometimes used
m them. One dance, in which the youth aspired most
ardently to excel, was the Pyrrhic, originally invented in
Crete. The performers in that dance were arrayed in
complete armour ; they wore a light short coat, which did
not fall below the knee, and was bound with a girdle round
the waist; on their feet and legs were buskins; in their
hands they bore their arms, and performed various military
evolutions to the sound of musical instruments. “ The
Lacedaemonians and Cretans,” says Libanius, “cultivated
dancing with amazing ardour ; they considered that their
laws had directed them to practise it for the most import¬
ant purposes ; and it was scarcely less dishonourable for
a Lacedaemonian or Cretan to neglect the military dance,
than to desert his post in battle.”
Those Cretans who were opulent and high born were
permitted to form societies of young men of their own
age; and they often strove with emulation who should
form the most numerous ones. The father of the young
man who formed one of those societies usually presided
in it; and he had a right to educate the warlike youth, to
exercise them in running and in hunting, and to confer
rewards and inflict punishments.
kriendship was held in high estimation among the Cre¬
tans ; but according to Strabo, the manner in which they
conducted the intercourse of friendship was somewhat ex¬
traordinary. Instead of mild persuasion, they made use of
violence to gain the objects of their affections. He who con¬
ceived an affection for a young man of his own age, and
wished to attach him to himself by indissoluble bonds,
formed a scheme for carrying him off by violence. Three
days before putting it into execution he communicated it
to his comrades. They could not then interfere to pre¬
vent it, because if they had, they would have appeared to
think the young man unworthy of such an excessive at¬
tachment. At the appointed day they assembled to pro¬
tect their companion. If the ravisher appeared to them
not unworthy of the object of his affection, they made
at first a faint resistance in obedience to the law, but at
last joyfully favoured his enterprise ; if, on the other
hand, they thought him unworthy of the object of his
choice, they made such resistance as to prevent him from
executing his design. The feigned resistance continued
till the ravisher had conducted his friend into the hall of
that society to which he belonged. They did not regard
him who possessed superior beauty and gracefulness of
person as the most amiable, but him who had most distin¬
guished himself by his modesty and valour.
When the youth had finished their exercises, and at¬
tained the legal age, they became members of the class of
adults; being then considered as men, they were permit¬
ted to vote in the national assemblies, and were entitled
to stand candidates for any public office. They were
then obliged to marry, but did not take home their wives
till such time as they were capable of managing their
domestic concerns.
3 N
466
Crete.
CUE C R E
“ The legislator,” says Strabo,. ? had considered^iberty ^tcoe.o^e Libyan eoas^ornred^ pro™,
as the greatest blessing that cities can enjoy. y , j ta t were afterwards sent there, and at last, as Cr'
alone can secure the property of the citizens of any s ate. J us, it was put under the government ofV"'
Slavery either robs them of it, or renders i p erve aconsui. This island was one of the first places m the world
The first care of nations should theref,J1® Pher em- which were favoured with the light of the gospel. St Paul
their liberty. . Concord strengthens and suppo ^ introduced the Christian faith into Crete ; and his disciple
pire; she flourishes wherever the seeds of diss left there-to cherish and cultivate that
extinguished. Almost all those hos ilities which prevail Iitus, w ^ became the first bishop of the is^and> In
among nations or individuals spring eithe y , Ph reign of the emperor Leo it had twelve bishops, who
mte desire of wealth or the love ot luxury. Introduce, the re.gn o ^ P ^ iarch of Constantinopie. Con.
instead of those baneful principles, frugah 7’ ™ ’ stantine separated Crete from Cyrene in the new division
^wSr^fb^wi: f itntio„swr„setto j-laud^er with Africa and Illyria, fell to the share
glory, opulence, and power, and was honoure When Michael Balbus sat on the throne of Constan-
panegyrice of the most celebrated phtlosopher^ of Greece “““lltanof Thomas, which lasted three years,
but the highest honour it ever ob«med was that of serv ‘'3’™lect the other parts „f the empire. The
mg Lycurgus as a model for *e admtrable fo.m of govern- ^usMhtm to of „ho had conquered the
ment which he established at feparta. , , ° t nrovinces of Spain, seized that opportunity, and
Nations are *--* »%*IgTs^'can S^ngCdlt a coL^rable fleet, plundered the Cy-
of their power, and attei tne levoiuuo b i i !’ attacked the island of Crete, and made themselves
scarcely trace in their posterity any remains “f opposition. In order to secure their
cient character. Some of them exist longer, others shot - master8 oTU wtUwut W named */*.
or i but we may almost always calculate the per od of their . ^y^um “t ^ bibarians made
duration by the excellence of their law^ and the fidehty tto^or parts of the island, carrying ha-
with which they support and obey the . p devastation wherever they appeared. By repeat-
of Crete, being established on a solid basis, anew "0 to vock ana ^ aU ^ cities ;n Crete except Cj.
reign master for a period ol ten centui e , y emneror Michael made some ineffectual efforts
repelled the attacks of those princes w'o aemp J j tbemlVoni Crete. Nor was the emperor Basilins
enslave it. At length the t,ro? “,'r"e h ■ of t),e the Macedonian more successful. The barbarians defeated
like and victorious Romans aspired to the e P . ,11 battle • but being afterwards vanquished
world, and would suffer none but subjects or s aves to m » blo«ly barae 0« » g T
exist within the reach of their arms. Flora* does no one of^hi, ge mrafs^they we^^ Jend ^ ^ ^
scruple to acknowledge that the Romans ia “ Arabians refused the tribute. It was reserved for Ni-
motive for invading Crete but the ambiiousc cephorus Phocas, who afterwards became emperor, to de-
subduing the renowned native country ^1 *"7 ^ [hi* fine island from the yoke of the infidels. He
TT SeteM^1'h0eW the "tme^erson was our desire landed with a numerous army, and having boldly attacked
r^^ktiT.. The Cretans had ap
peared to favour Mithridates, and the omans S rnl in the field fled for protection to their fortresses. But
proper to declare war against them on that pretext. ^tcaf being ^SrsuppHed with all the warlike
Antony, father of the triumvir, attacked 1 8 , . necessarv for a siege, levelled their walls, took
hopes of success, but was severely pum^ ec for ^ P ^ ^ cities and Besses, and drove them into Khandak.
sumption and imprudence. Hie Cieta 8 course of nine months he subdued the whole island,
part of his fleet, hung up his soldiers ant . . ,. rurup an(j ^is lieutenant Aremas prisoners,
masts amid the sails and cordage, and returned m tnuni! anJ rtu|litecfto theP empire a provinCe which had been
‘“The'LmansTkver forgot nor forgave a defeat. As
soon as the Macedonian war had been brought to a con • tjme when Baldwin, count of Flanders,
elusion, they again took arms a^ j d to the throne5 liberally rewarded the services
to revenge their ignominy and loss. Quintus ivieteims t as oe & Montferrat bv making him king
sent to firete wit! a powerful armament, but met wrth an of Bornface ™ qu.s hy^ »
obstinate and vigorous resistance. Panarus and Lasthenes, cS0Tet0us of gold than of glory,
two experienced leaders, collecting a body of twenty thou B . Venetians, under whom it
sand young warriors, all eager for battle, and of deter- sold it m the year I W to he Venetians,
mined courage, employed their arms add arrows success- assumed the ^meof Can of days al.
SrSyeara.6 TTe^kq^ra cS !ofm^e Biem! Jed to the « consider whether he would act,
selves masters of the island without destroying its bravest heir t0 th* “tmee’ he*™ excluded from the
warriors. They lost a great number of troops, and bought not take up the inheritance, ne was exc
a bloody victory at the price of many a danger and much state. cr„Wure used by the French,
fatieue However, their usual good fortune at length pre- CREUX, at P ’ . f|1P want of
vailed 5 and the first care of the conqueror was to abolish though not 7et p^ds^trongly for its
the laws of Minos, and to substitute those of Numa. Stra- a word of equal import in Rnghs p g y
f0 hTdPar Iht ±S c7e’tea“o JgefS "oS sTgS a Mhm,
force, because the Romans compelled the conquered pro- ejaying where the
VirTheti>slandPof Crete,^united with the small kingdom of lines and figures are cut and formed within tie ace
C R E
plane of the plate or matter engraven on; in which sense
it stands opposed to relievo, where the lines and figures
;,are embossed, and appear prominent above the surface of
the matter.
CRLVIER, John Baptiste Louis, was trained under
the celebrated Rollin, and afterwards became professor of
rhetoric in the college of Beauvais, an office which he held
for more than twenty years, discharging its duties with
equal zeal and success. Upon the death of his master in
1741, he undertook to complete his Roman History, and
published the last eight volumes of the work. He also
published other works, and proved greatly serviceable to
the cause of virtue and religion, as well as to that of let¬
ters. His death happened in 1765, at a very advanced
age. Besides the continuation just mentioned, he pub¬
lished, 1. An edition of Livius, cum noth, in six vols. 4to,
1748, and afterwards another edition, better adapted to
the use of his pupils, in six vols. small 8vo ; 2. LHhtoire
des Empereurs des Romains, jusqud Constantin, 1749, 12
vols. 12mo; 3. Hhtoire da V Universite de Paris, 7 vols.
12mo; 4. Rhetorique Frangohe, a just and useful work;
o. Observations sur l Esprit des Loix; 6. Remarques sur
le Traite des etudes de Rollin, Paris, 1780, 12mo.
CREUSA, in fabulous history, the daughter of Creon,
king of Corinth. As she was going to marry Jason, who
had divorced Medea, she put on a poisoned garment,
which immediately set her body on fire, and she expired
in the most excruciating torments. She had received this
gown as a gift from Medea, who took that method of re¬
venging the infidelity of Jason.
CREUSE, a department of France, formed out of the
ancient country of La Marche, and of a small part of
Lower Auvergne. It is bounded on the north by the de¬
partments of the Indre and Cher, on the east by those of
the Allier and Puy-de-Dome, on the south by Correze,
and on the west by Upper Vienne. Its extent is 2332
square miles, or 590,250 hectares, according to the Al-
manac Royale. The surface is generally level, with but
few elevations, which are mostly in the south and west,
and gradually disappear in advancing to the east and the
north. The soil is generally of little fertility; and being
elevated, there are to be found in this department the
sources of many small rivers and rivulets, whose waters fruc¬
tify the surrounding districts, but none of whose streams
enter the department of the Creuse. The winter begins
early and continues long. The vegetable products are
corn, chiefly buck-wheat and rye, but little wheat, pota¬
toes, hemp, fruit, especially chestnuts, and acorns. There
is no surplus of food. Some cattle are bred, but chiefly
fattened in other districts. The inhabitants are a hardy
i ace, scarcely speaking any other language but a Lan¬
guedoc patois, and wandering through the other parts of
the kingdom in search of employment. The agriculture
in a backward state, both as regards the practices and
the implements. Manufacturing is also at a low ebb, only
yielding a few coarse necessaries of clothing and furni-
ture. The population amounts to 238,774 persons, of
"horn it is said more than 40,000 spend their summers in
forking in the other departments, and bring back towards
I ttle.en(1. the summer upwards of 120,000 francs. The
capital is Gueret.
j CREWKERNE, a town in the hundred of the same
jame, in the county of Somerset, 131 miles from London,
e town is situated in a fertile valley, watered by the
C R I
rivers Axe and Parret. It has a good market, which is
irnio0" inhabitants amounted in 1811 to
3012, in 1821 to 3434, and in 1831 to 3789.
CRIB, the rack or manger of a stable, or the stall or
cabin of an ox. It is also used for any small habitation,
as a cottage, or the like.
CRICELASIA, the driving a ring or hoop. Driving a
hoop was one of the ancient gymnastics. The hoop was
as high as the breast of the person who used it • and it
was commended for rendering the limbs pliable, and for
strengthening the nerves.
CRICHTON, James, commonly known by the appel¬
lation of the Admirable Crichton, was born on the 19th of
August 1560.1 His father was Robert Crichton, who, in
conjunction with John Spence, executed the office of lord
atJV(?.ca^e ’ khs rnother was Elizabeth, the only daughter
of Sir James Stewart of Beath, by Margaret, the eldest
daughter of Lord Lindsay of Byres. It appears highly
probable, if not certain, that by the father’s side he de¬
rived his lineage from Sir Robert Crichton of Sanquhar,
ancestor of the earl of Dumfries ; and his maternal grand¬
father, ancestor of the earl of Moray, was the son of Lord
Avandale, who was descended from Murdac duke of Al¬
bany, and through him from Robert II. It is indeed to
be recollected that the birth of the first Lord Avandale
was illegitimate; but it is likewise to be recollected that
he obtained letters of legitimation under the great sealJ
His grand-uncle Lord Methven was the third husband of
Margaret Tudor, the relict of James IV. It is therefore
sufficiently obvious that he was entitled to speak of his
high descent; but his extraordinary endowments of mind
conferred upon him much higher distinction than he could
derive from any accidental circumstances of birth. The
place of his birth is somewhat doubtful. According to
one tradition, he was born in the castle of Cluny, situated
on a small lake bearing the same name ; but as the father
did not acquire his estate in Perthshire till two years
after the birth of James, his eldest son, this may be con¬
sidered as entitled to less attention than another tradition,
which represents him as having been born at Elliock in
Dumfriesshire, the more ancient seat of the family. The
estate of Cluny, which belonged to the bishopric of Dun-
keld, was conveyed to the king’s advocate by Robert
Crichton, the last popish bishop of that wealthy see.
In the year 1570, when he had only attained the age of
ten, he was sent to the university of St Andrews, where
he was entered at St Salvator’s College. According to
Aldus Manutius, his father placed him under the tuition
of Buchanan, Hepburn, Robertson, and Rutherford, who
are all mentioned as very eminent persons. John Ruther¬
ford, whose name is sufficiently known, was provost of the
college to which Crichton belonged. Buchanan, who was
principal of St Leonard’s College, resigned his office about
the time when he became a student; but, according to
the statement of his Italian friend, he was partly edu¬
cated along with the young king of Scotland ; and Bu¬
chanan was appointed to the office of preceptor to the
king when he quitted St Andrews, in the year 1570. On
the 20th of March 1573, or, according to our present
mode of computation, 1574, Crichton took the degree of
A. B. He proceeded A. M. in the year 1575, and thus
completed the regular course of study at the premature
age of fifteen. In the university of St Andrews, the can¬
didates for the higher degree were then distributed into
467
Crib
I!
Crichton.
L'his cnrinn f broadside’ Pn,nted Venice in 1580, states that he had completed the twentieth year of his age on the 19th of August.
•ialihivpT docu?^nKwhlch vvas latety discovered, and which affords some confirmation of the account which Manutius and Impe-
Mm^ecrklt 289S ^EdintTim may be found in the aPPendix to the second edition of Mr Tytler’s Life of
■ Wood’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. i. p. 158.
468
CRICHTON.
Crichton, circles, according to the comparative proficiency displayed
in the course of then' prev.ous ettammattons. Each c da ^ncmg, '““ng, ^ ^ jC ®catcji^ anh somet.
was likewise formed on thesame Pnnc P1.'- “ 'entl He house-games of dice, cardsf playing at the chess,
six masters who took their degrees "s , fir’st cir_ i,j|ij0I.|]Sl trou-madam, and other such like chamber-sports,
were three circles; and the llurl „f the list singing.playingonthelute.andothermusicalinstruments.”
cle is that of James Crichton At the head ofAeto smgrn^ hour arrive<1> he acquitted him-
appears David iMonypennj. It is “ U t . 01l,| as self with stupendous learning and ability, having for the
Crichton was the youngest of all ‘ >fe Srnad““teoV thbtv* space of nine hours maintrdned his ground against the
Ins proficiency was only cxceMled by totingui* most eminent antagonists in all the faculties. The rector
five, it is evident that he had ah ead} fc uisition f 0f the university concluded the ceremony by presenting
himself by his extraordinary aptitude in the acquisition ot ot^the^ ^y^ ^ and a pai.se 4, Jof go|d «
knowledge. fivan rrirliinn thev would be a mere waste of criticism to enter into a minute
As the king was six years lamination of the narrative to which we have now refer-
could not well participate in the s ’ tutors, red. The details are sufficiently circumstantial, but they
they could receive ms ructions much of the aspect of a'downright romance; and
Crichton must have contmued I d ^ as ]itera_ such details frora the knight of Cromarty would have re-
tense ardour to the pm suits ot , ndded a ouired the strong confirmation of collateral evidence. It
tore; for to a knowledge of many St perhaps be admitted with some degree of safety
familiar acquamtence with *<= Phd plj^ ,g shewn ^ tll“t cFchton was engaged in a public disputation at Paris,
&^^SlslluIareplac&iWrt,,iPfiUr^h; ^
Ful '“rx^rmS beacqui “much labour and per- taiuing so long and powerful a contest, not merely with
t® any extern, must be acqu y ^ ac_ nlarianSj rhetoricians, and philosophers, but even
severance, although their pa ? i t nacftv 0f with theologians, canonists, and civilians, all these par-
cording to the quickness of apFehension and tenacity of ^^^ItXe vecewed with extreme hesitation; and
memory belonging to various in ivi . benefit nerhaos it may be considered as much more probable
Crichton may for some tune have enjoyed^the benefit never took piace at Paris, but
llffiugt’VcoTnd'“wards of the year 1577. was merely fabricated from another, which took place at
His subsequent movements are represented as ^ intellectual endowments of Crichton seem to have
father^erattfacedtl^reforme^doctidnestv^ile "the son ad- been equalled' by his personal accomplishments. He is
mmrniiwmimm
wmmm mmm.
duly instructed, “ the admirable Scot (for so from thence lebrated in the anna s ® was not without
forth he was called) mipding more Ins hawking, hunting, foundation of a literary trie p, . . f 8 He
t£g' vaulting, riding of wdl-managed horses, tossing of considerable influence m perpetuating Ins lame.
. Urqui,art's Discovery of a most exquisite Jewel, pi 94. Dond. 1652,
night before the appointed day of meeting, some person, less acquainted with Crichton him^hdianwnhh^ tQ
fcrXStStro^taKTor SwtCse0, is iL C PiSg
hosteria del raleone, die li fark mostrato.” (Eaggingk
* teS'i EiJ^if scots Writers, vol. iii p. 200. From the very loose and “jSJSSS:
this work, was fabricated a separate tract published under the title of ™eLifetfJanm Cr^Mon °/ C/ ’ person of some taste for
lie Crichton. Aberdeen, 1760, 8vo. It was printed, and probably edited, by V ^ Mr finnlnrs Tmir L Scotland, vol. i. p- 315-
literature. Dr Mackenzie’s account, thus disguised, was inserted in an appendix to Mr 1 ennant s lou
edit. Lend. 1790, 3 vols. 4to.
3 Boccalini, Kagguagli di Parnaso, tom. i. p. 180. ed. Amst. 1609, 2 tom. 12mo.
4 Dempsteri Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Scotorum, p. 188. Bonomae, 1627, 4to. 158ft 4to. (Renouard,
* Tacobi Critonii in Appulsu ad celeberrimam Urbem Venetam Carmen ad Aldum Manutiunu T en \ ’ ,n i negligera,
Annales de I’lmprLerie^es Aides, tom. u. p. 125.)_Gabriel Naude speaks of Crichton’s orations being printed: Tel neg g
*
CRICHTON.
469
likewise formed an intimate acquaintance with other men
of letters, particularly with Sperone Speroni, Lorenzo
Massa, and Giovanni Donati. An ode addressed to
Massa, and another to Donati, are preserved among his
literary reliques. But the friendship of Manutius was
distinguished by a more than ordinary degree of zeal: he
highly extolled Crichton when living, and deeply bewail¬
ed him when dead. To the notices which he has intro¬
duced into his edition of Cicero, we are in a great mea¬
sure indebted for our knowledge of the young scholar’s
proceedings in the territory of Venice. His edition of
the Paradoxa he inscribed “ Nobilissimo juveni Jacobo
Critonio Scotoand the dedication, dated on the first of
June 1581, contains a recital of some of those literary ex¬
ploits which astonished the Italians.1
An oration which Crichton pronounced before the Doge
and the nobility of Venice excited the admiration of his
audience, by the eloquence of the composition, as well as
by the gracefulness of the elocution, insomuch that the
young orator was regarded as a person of the most extra¬
ordinary endowments. He afterwards engaged in various
disputations on subjects of divinity, philosophy, and the
mathematical sciences; and such was the reputation
which he now acquired, that, during the remainder of his
short career, he seems to have been viewed as one of the
wonders of Italy. It has been thought a circumstance
worthy of being recorded in the life of Mazzoni, celebrat¬
ed among his countrymen for his powers of literary debate,
that he thrice encountered Crichton at Venice, and over¬
whelmed him by the astonishing copiousness and subtilty
of his arguments. If it was reckoned an honour for a man
ofhigh reputation to sustain a contest with so youthful an
antagonist, we cannot fail to perceive the singular estima¬
tion in which that antagonist must have been held.
These intellectual exertions were succeeded by an in¬
firm state of health, which continued for upwards of four
months; and before he had completely recovered, he made
an excursion to Padua, the seat of a flourishing university.
The professors in all the different faculties were invited to
meet him in the house of a person of rank; and there, in
the midst of a numerous assembly, he exhibited new and
striking proofs of the versatility of his genius. He com¬
menced his performances with the recitation of an ex¬
temporaneous poem in celebration of Padua; a subject
which was only then proposed to him, and which he treat¬
ed in a manner that is described as very elegant. With
much acuteness and learning, he afterwards discussed
various topics of science with the doctors who were there
assembled; and it is particularly mentioned that he ex¬
posed many of the errors of Aristotle and his commenta¬
tors. Having thus displayed his knowledge for the space of
six hours, the final theme proposed to him was the praise
of ignorance; and on this subject he pronounced an ora¬
tion, which still further excited the admiration of his learn¬
ed auditors. A similar exhibition was announced to be
held in the bishop’s palace, but, for some reason which is
not plainly stated, it did not take place. The popular ap¬
plause which attended such demonstrations of intellectual Crichton,
superiority, had too natural a tendency to excite envy, and
to piovoke detraction, nor did Crichton escape that lot
which has been common to so many others. On his re¬
turn to Venice, he was induced by the malignity of cer¬
tain individuals, whom he does not mention by name, to
publish a remarkable program, which has been preserved
by his friend Manutius. In order to expose the futility of
their cavils, he undertook to refute innumerable errors of
Aristotle, and of all the Latin philosophers, that is, all the
schoolmen, both in their expositions of his doctrines, and
in their disquisitions on subjects of theology, together
with the errors of certain professors of mathematics, and
to answer sueh objections as might be urged against him.
He further gave his antagonists the option of selecting
their topics of disputation from any other branch of sci¬
ence, whether publicly taught in the schools, or privately
investigated by the most profound philosophers; and he
undertook to return his answers, as the proponents should
themselves determine, either according to the usual figures
of logic, according to the secret doctrine of numbers, or
mathematical figures, or in any one out of a hundred differ¬
ent species of verse. The challenge may appear suffi¬
ciently bold, if not arrogant; but unless it came from a
person who was conscious of possessing very extraordi¬
nary powers of intellect, and who had repeatedly applied
to them a severe and Unequivocal test, it could scarcely
be viewed in any other light than as an indication of
insanity. He appealed to a community which included
many competent judges of such pretensions, and therefore
could not hope to impose upon an unlearned multitude.
The appointed place of meeting was the church of St
John and St Paul; and there, for the space of three days,
this young man sustained the arduous trial in a manner
which fully justified his confidence in his own intellectual
resources. His friend Aldus Manutius was a spectator
of his triumphs upon this occasion ; and though some
allowances must doubtless be made for the warmth of
friendship, and for an Italian taste in writing, it is still to
be remembered that when he published his account, the
event to which it referred was altogether recent, and he
necessarily appealed to a cloud of living witnesses, who
would have treated his panegyric with derision, if Crich¬
ton had obviously failed in supporting his own lofty pre¬
tensions.
After his departure from Venice, he betook himself to
Mantua; and there, according to Urquhart’s romantic nar¬
rative, he rendered himself very conspicuous by his valiant
encounter with a fierce Italian gentleman, who had re¬
cently slain three antagonists. Crichton is said to have
challenged this redoubtable champion, and, after many
efforts of mutual skill, to have brought the matter to this
conclusion : “ His right foot did beat the cadence of the
blow that pierced the belly of this Italian; whose heart
and throat being hit with the two former stroaks, these
three franch bouts given in upon the back of other: besides
that, if lines were imagined drawn from the hand that liver-
cellp es <^raisons de Jacques Criton, parce qu’elles ne se trouvent qu’imprimees separdment, qui aura dans sa bibliotheque
j ou ni Grallutius, Nigronius, Bencius, Perpiman, et de beaucoup d’autres autheurs, non pas qu’elles soient meilleures
us C,1,ser,tfs,et esl°quentes que celles de ce docte Lscossois, mais parce qu’elles se trouvent reserrdes et continues dans de certains
i Cricht*8, * a vis pour dresser une Bibliotheque, p. 76. edit Paris, 1644, 8vo.) Naudd apparently confounds him with George
' mihli l?11,! .oc^or 01 llie canor> Hw, who was royal professor of Greek in the university of Paris, and the author of various orations
illust8 a ln f “etached form. He married a daughter of his countryman Adam Blackwood. (Niceron, Memoires des Hommes
by off t>nS . lfePul)l>(lue des Lettres, tom. xxxvii. p. 346.) The poems of the two Crichtons are mentioned in the following terms
tarn a us, orri^111lls : “ Jacobo Crittonio Scoto non ignotum fuisse Pegaseium melos docent heroica, quibus suum in urbem Vene-
| P 151. lFrlm fStamen vividi caloris cultusque in epicis Georgii Crittonii.” (Dissertationes Academicse de Poetis,
1 De °* ^dus Manutius, together with the four Latin poems of Crichton, are reprinted in Graevius’s edition of Cicero
to Mr l f '^Inst‘ 16'88, 8vq. They may likewise be found in the Biographia Britannica, vol. iv. p. 452, and in the appendix
orrm- Jr, h ef ^ie Admirable Crichton, p. 292. Only two of the poems, the hexameters on Venice and the ode to Manutius,
wcur in the Dehtue Poetarum Scotorum, tom. i. p. 268.
pe- numb "r.S w "r? „TpiSSb? ^ ^
miume. me jeameu t.u^ ^ unflWj nosed verses, for his knowledge of ten or twelve different
Wga *3 tbSomVaSI c-bat ha 'XTf^ltcSon powerlrf memo^aS ft, t
nv ted or attractTto the court of Mantua, and that the pends on the romantic fl.ghts of Sir Thomas Urquhart,
it • ,- i i • *■ tiic cnn Vinren/o Gonzaca. who wrote about seventy years aftei his death. Joseph
Here According to”]le knight of Cromarty, he displayed Scaliger, who flourished at the same period with himself,
1, s dramatic talents as conspicuously as he had formerly who professes to have obtained Ins information in Italy
played hislearning and his prowess. In the space of and who besides was not too prone to admiration, men.
five hours he i^ said to have represented fifteen different lions Crichton as a prodigious genius and indeed enu.
characters* and to have supporte-d each of them with mar- merates all the most essential qualifications that are com-
v£s effect But his hr lliant career was speedily to mdnly ascribed to him." H,s testimony, which is entire-
dose When he was one evening walking in the streets ly overlooked by the late Dr Black,* ,s certainly of cons..
of Mantua with his lute in his hand, he was unexpectedly derable weight and importance. Crichton is i e"ise ex-
assailed bvThree individuals i and drawing his sword, he tolled in terms of the highest admiration, in a work pnb-
pressed upon them with so much skill and resolution, that lished so early as the year 160J by Dr Abemethy, a na-
S e nrhicipal aggressor was impelled by his fears to discover tive of Edinburgh, and a member of the university ol
himself aTymunr Gonzaga. Crichton fell upon his knees, Montpellier." The longer of the two poems which he
aid entreaSl forgiveness for an act which evidently in- wrote in celebration of his young countryman, commences
ferred no guilt, when the prince instantly pierced him with these verses:
through the body, and terminated the mortal existence of
one of the most remarkable persons of the era to which he
belonged.1 2 * 4 5 This act of base ferocity was peipetiated on
the third of July 1583, when Crichton had nearly com¬
pleted the twenty-third year of his age.
The elegance of his person had procured him the admi¬
ration of those who were unable to estimate the powers
of his mind. His countenance is described as beautiful;   -v  — ,
but his right eye was marked, if not somewhat disfigured, ced, many others, somewhat more recent, might easily be
by a red spot, or, as Manutius describes it, a red rose by added; and we are fully prepared to acquiesce m t le opi
which it was surrounded. His reputation as a scholar did nion of Ur Johnson, that ot Crichton s his ory, wa ever
not render him indifferent to the more superficial accom- we may suppress as surpassing credibility, yet we shall, upon
plishments of a gentleman : his address was courteous, and incontestible authority, relate enough to rank him among
L WPS n nrnfiripnt in dancimr, as well as in the gymnastic prodigies. 7 Dr Kippis, who has written a copious -
O foelix animi juvenis Chrichtone ! vigore
Ingenii volitante supra qui vectus in astra
Humanam sortem, et mortalis culmen honoris,
Seu placuit Musas colere, aut glomeramine campum
Tundere cornipedis, pictisve ardescere in amis;
Grandia sublimis nuper miracula mentis
Monstrasti attonito, et rapuisti protinus orbi.6
To the early testimonies which we have already produ-
he was a proficient in dancing, as well as in the gymnastic
and martial exercises to which youths of his condition
were then addicted.
The unrivalled fame of this young scholar is certainly
allied to romance ; but, on the other hand, it is very dif¬
ficult to imagine that it was not originally founded on
some qualities which eminently distinguished him from
other forward and aspiring youths, who at that period
were sufficiently numerous in the more learned countries
of Europe. A reputation so splendid, and so uniformly
prodigies.”7 Dr Kippis, who has written a copious ac-
countof this renowned youth, has legitimately applied the
test of criticism to several of the early notices ; and many
of his strictures, particularly those on Urquhart and Mac¬
kenzie, every person of a sober judgment must admit to be
too well founded. We have however placed no reliance on
such authorities, but have derived all our materials from
better sources. “ He appears,” says this biographer, “ to
have had a fine person, to have been adroit in his bodily ex¬
ercises, to have possessed a peculiar facility in learning lan-
ot Europe, a reputation so spienum, uiiLi &u uunui mi^ ..v, ~ - r
maintained, cannot reasonably be ascribed to a mere con- guages, to have enjoyed a remarkably quick and retentive
currence of accidental circumstances. The specimens of memory, and to have excelled m a power of declamation,
his Latin poetry which have been preserved do not indeed fluency of speech, and a readiness of reply.
1 Urquhart’s Discovery of a most exquisite Jewel, p. 90. . . , - n . , , 0 OYrirp,=i0D
* Imperialis Museum Historicum, p. 242. Yenetiis, 1G40, 4to._In mentioning their first encounter, he uses the expi-ession,
« consulto an casu, incertum;” nor are we in possession of any more specific information. With regard to the hte, t e
degree of uncertainty. In the month of November 1583, Manutius bewailed his young friend as already dead, a"d
to the fatal third of July. Imperiali likewise states that he died on the third of July 1583. On the other hand’, tili
dd Mazzoiii, p. 127, speaks of a poem written by James Crichton on the death of Cardinal Borromeo, which did no J t
the third of November 1584. But for such a fact as this, the authority of Manutius cannot well be called in question, a
rather conclude that the poem was written by another James Crichton, or by some person wlm thought proper to aa°P , ‘ de
8 “ J’ay oiiy parler d’un Critton Escossois en Italie, qui n’avoit que 21 ans, quand il a estd tue par le commandeme -
Mantoue; et qui s^avoit 12 langues, avoit leu les petes, poetes, disputoit de omni scibUi, et respondmt en vfflrs. C es
prodigiosum, admiratione magis quam amore dignum. Ilestoit un pen fat. Ei judicium non tantum ad m 1 „ k /gcaij£je-
ingenia amare, non vero bene doctos. Manutius prsefatione ad Paradoxa, quam dicat Cnttomo, memimt illius ingen . i a
rana, p. 58.)
4 Black’s Life of Tasso, vol. ii. p. 413. Edinb. 1810, 2 vols. 4to. rT „ , . , D nroba-
5 Adam Aberaethy took the degree of A. M. at Edinburgh on the 7th of August 1594. ^ He afterwards took that W M. • P
blv in some foreign university. He is described as “ Monspeliensis aeademise moderator.”
6 Musa Campestris, &c. authore Adamo Abrenetheo ex Scoto-Britannia, Edinburgeno- Monspelii, 1609, 8vo.
’ Adventurer, No. 81.
Crid , e
fCrii ■
^ -J
C R I
]edge, likewise, was probably very uncommon for his years;
and this, in conjunction with his other qualities, enabled
him to shine in public disputation. But whether his know-
' ]ec]ge and learnihg were accurate or profound, may justly
be questioned; and it may equally be doubted whether he
would have arisen to any extraordinary degree of eminence
in the literary world. It will always be reflected upon with
regret, that his early and untimely death prevented this
matter from being brought to the test of experiment.”1 In
all controversies, it is of the first importance to ascertain
the real state of the question. In a youth of twenty-three,
whatever superiority of intellect he may possess, we do
not expect to find the erudition of Scaliger or Salmasius.
Those who extol Crichton as a very extraordinary person,
do not necessarily suppose that his attainments exceeded
the limits of human genius : but they may reasonably be¬
lieve that in various departments of science and literature
he arrived at a degree of proficiency wonderfully prema¬
ture; that he evinced great energy of application, with
unusual powers of memory; and that of the knowledge
which he so rapidly acquired, he possessed so ready a
command, together with so much promptitude and acute¬
ness of mental exertion, that he appeared as a prodigy
among men of the ordinary standard of intellectual excel¬
lence.2 (x.)
CRICKLADE, an ancient borough-town of the hun¬
dred of Highworth, in Wiltshire, eighty-four miles from
London. It is united by means of a canal to the rivers
Thames and Severn. The market is held on Saturday.
The population amounted in 1811 to 1393, in 1821 to
1485, and in 1831 to 1642.
GRIM Tartars, a people of Asia, so called because
they originally came from Crimea. They rove from place
to place in search of pastures. There are a great number
of them about Astracan, to which place they flock in the
winter time; but they are not permitted to enter the city.
For this reason they erect in the open fields huts, which
are made either of bulrushes or reeds, being about twelve
feet in diameter, of a round form, and with a hole at the
top to let out the smoke. Their fuel consists of turf or
cow-dung; and when the weather is very cold, they cover
their huts with coarse cloths, and sometimes pass several
days without stirring out. They are generally of small
stature, with large faces, little eyes, and an olive complex¬
ion. The [men are commonly so wrinkled in their faces
that they look like old women. Their ordinary food is fish
dried in the sun, which serves them instead of bread, and
they eat the flesh of horses as well as that of camels. Their
drink is water and milk, especially mare’s milk, which they
carry about in filthy leathern bags. Their garments are
of coarse grey cloth, with a loose mantle made of black
sheep’s skin, and a cap of the same material. The women
are clothed in white linen, with which they likewise dress
their heads; and there is also a hole left in which to stick
feathers. As for their religion, they are a sort of Mahom-
medans, but do not seclude their women like the Turks.
See Crimea.
CRIMES and Punishments. See Penal Jurispru-
RENCE.
CRIMEA, or Crim Tartary, anciently the Chersone-
sus Taurica, a peninsula situated directly to the south of
ht Petersburg, between the 44th and 46 th degrees of north
C R I
471
latitude, and in 34 degrees of east longitude. Its south- Crimea,
ern and western coasts are on the Euxine, its northern and
eastern on the Putrid Sea and the Sea of Azof. It is joined
to the continent on the north by a small neck of land not
more than six mi es in breadth. This peninsula has been
known for more than three thousand years, since the first
na,val expedition of the Argonauts; a story which, though
mixed with fable, is yet well founded in its principal facts
-The mountainous parts were inhabited by the Tauri, pro¬
bably a colony of Scythians; while its coasts on the west,
the east, and the south, were occupied by Greeks. The
Scythians were driven out by Mithridates; the Greeks by
the Sarmatians; and these again by the Alani and Goths,
a northern horde of Scythians. The Hungarians, the Cos¬
sacks, and Tartars, succeeded in their turn ; and the Geno¬
ese, in the twelfth century, held a temporary^ and preca¬
rious possession of the sea-ports, which they were obliged
to yield to the Turks in 1475. At the peace of 1774, the
Tartars of the Crimea were declared independent; and
in 1783, this peninsula was definitively united to the Rus¬
sian empire.
From the isthmus, on which is built the fortress of Or-
kapi or Perecop, to the first elevation of the hill at Kara-
subasar, the country is one continued flat; then it rises
by an easy gradation to the summit of the hill, which
forms the southern side of the peninsula and the shore of
the Euxine Sea. The surface of the soil is almost all of
one kind, namely, a reddish-gray loam ; on digging, it is
found more or less mixed with a black earth, and the hills
abound with marl. The whole flat country from Perecop
to the river Salgir, an extent of about eighty miles, is full
of saline marshes and lakes, whence the neighbouring
Russian governments, as well as the Crimea itself, A.natoiia,
and Bessarabia, are supplied with salt. The most remark¬
able of these lakes are five in ndmber; Koslof and Caffa,
both very large, and so called after the towns near which
they lie; the Tusla, about fifteen versts3 from Perecop, on
the road from Caffa; the Red Lake, not far from that last
mentioned ; and the Black Lake. Besides these, there are
many other swamps and lakes, whence the inhabitants ob¬
tain salt for their own consumption.
The greater part of the peninsula is so level that a man
may travel over the half of it without meeting with a river,
or even the smallest brook ; the inhabitants of the vil¬
lages, therefore, make a pit in the yard of every house, for
receiving and containing the rain water. The whole tract
is destitute of every kind of tree. Not a bush or a bram¬
ble is to be seen, and the herbage is extremely scanty.
This, however, does not proceed so much from the unfruit¬
fulness of the soil, as from the vast herds of cattle which
rove from place to place, during the whole year, by which
means the grass in spring, summer, or autumn, no sooner
appears through the long drought which succeeds the
rainy season, than it is immediately devoured or trodden
down. The universal prevalence of this custom of keep¬
ing cattle to wander up and dmvn, joined to the slothful¬
ness of the Tartars, together with their inaptitude and
aversion to agriculture, is the reason of the total neglect
of cultivation in the Crimea. Were the land divided into
portions and properly managed, there would be a suffi¬
ciency for the cattle, and the rest would be fruitful in corn
and grain.
' Biographia Britannica, vol. iv. p. 455.
2 ‘ Ce fut,” says Bayle, “Pun des plus extraordinaires prodiges d’esprit qu’on ait jamais vus.” (Dictionaire Historique et Cri-
^ue, tom. i. p. 941.) This is scarcely exceeded by the panegyric of Imperiali: “ Hie est Critonius ille Scotus, transacti duodum
a-'cuu monstrum, prodigioso naturse opificis conatu editum, quo Parnassi spacia stupendo et inusitato spectaculo illustrarentur.
ic est totius adhuc orbis judicio Phoenix habitus ingeniorum, divinae mentis igniculis summi potius datoris referens majestatem,
qUf"mortalem ad semulandum lacessens industriam.” (Musaeum Historicum, p. 241.)
he verst, a Russian measure of length, is equal to 3520 English feet; consequently three versts are equal to two English miles.
472
C R I
Crimea.
This peninsula is indeed but a little district, yet from
the many advantages conferred upon it by nature it may
be considered as peculiarly rich. It is divided into the hill
country and the flat. The latter, which extends from
Perecop to Koslof and the river Bulganap, to Karasubasar,
Caffa, and Yenicali, is diversified here and there with little
Tartar villages, maintained by cattle and the produce ot
the salt lakes. The highlands or hill country forms the
southern part of the Crimea, along the straight coast ot the
Black Sea, and stretching westward in a right line trom
Caffa to the vicinity of Belbek. These hills are composed
of layers of chalk, which, in the headlands and promonto¬
ries, are soft, but more inland quite hard. I he strata ot the
high hills are like those of the promontories, and take a di¬
rection from north to south. These qualities of the strata
prevail not throughout the whole hills, but only in the large
and lofty ones ; such as the two which rise near Karasuba¬
sar, and a very high one near Akmetchet, which bears
the name of Aktau. The other smaller hills he scattered
and dispersed, but take the names of the greater ones, to
which they seem to belong, and are called Palkans.
Nature has favoured these highland countries with great
advantages, and blessed them with abundance of all things.
A number of springs which flow from the mountains lorm
the two considerable rivers Salgir and Karasu, which
run into the Putrid Sea. The former, which takes its
rise from a cavern in a high hill near Akmetchet, falls
straight into the plain below, and waters a great part ot
the Crimea; the other, commencing behind Karasubasar,
falls likewise into the plain, and mingles with the Salgir.
There are many other little rivers and streams which run
eastward, and either join the two above mentioned or fall
immediately into the Putrid Sea. All the streams which
begin at Caffa flow to the north or the north-east, except¬
ing the one behind Akmetchet, which falls on the other
side. This river, rising on the northern side of the moun¬
tain, flows, as was before observed, towards the north¬
east, to the Salgir and the Putrid Sea; and those which
spring on the western side also take their course westvvard
to the Bulganak, and thence straight to the Black Sea,
which receives all the other little rivers which rise from
these hills, as the Amma, the Katscha, the Belbek, the
Kasulkioi, and some others.
The mountains are covered with wood fit for the PJ11*
pose of ship-building, and abound in wild beasts.. The
valleys consist of fine arable land; whilst on the sides of
the hills grow corn and vines in great abundance, and the
earth is rich in mines. But the mountaineers are as care¬
less and negligent as the inhabitants of the deseits ; they
slight all the advantages we have mentioned, and, like
their brethren of the lowlands, think themselves sufficiently
happy if they are in possession of a fat sheep and a small
portion of bread.
The houses in the towns as well as the villages are tor
the most part built of square timbers, having the inter¬
stices filled with brick work, if the possessor can afford it,
and those of the poorer sort with turf. The chinks and
crannies are made tight with clay, and then plastered
both within and without. The covering commonly consists
either of bricks or of turfs. Only the medscheds, minarets,
and baths are of stone, and a few, extremely handsome, of
marble. They have chimneys in the chambers, at which
they likewise "dress their victuals, but no stoves in the
Russian manner. In extreme frosts a great iron pan of
charcoal is brought into the room. Their custom is to sit
upon low sofas, with Turkish coverings and cushions, or
upon a clay seat, somewhat raised above the ground and
covered with a carpet. In these rooms are cupboards and
chests, often covered with cushions to serve as seats, and
in these they keep their gold, silver, and valuables. Such
C R I
are the inner apartments or harams in which the women Ciin;
generally live ; the others are not so fine, and contain only
a sofa, or a bank of clay covered with a carpet, as in the
chimney rooms.
The rich Tartars, and their nobility or murzas, common¬
ly reside all the year round in the country,, coming only
to town when they have business there. There are but
few towns in the Crimea, at least in comparison of its
former population. The Krimskoi Tartars have no tribu¬
nals of justice, controversies and quarrels being seldom
heard of amongst them ; and, if a dispute should arise, it
is immediately settled by an appeal to the Koran. Little
differences which occur in the villages about property, or
other matters not taken notice of in that code, are ami¬
cably adjusted by the eldermen and abeses; but in the
towns all weighty concerns, excepting the single case of
murder or homicide, are brought before the kaimakan, or
commandant, who settles them absolutely without appeal.
The residence of the khans of the Crimea was formerly
Baktchi-serai, in which city they held their seat for up¬
wards of two centuries. They went thither from Eski-
Crim, or Old Crim, the capital city of the Genoese, upon
Bengli Ghirei Khan’s plundering the sea-ports, and ex¬
pelling all the Genoese from their stations. Before Eski-
Crim became the capital, and indeed upon the Tartars first
coming into this peninsula, the sovereign residence was at
Koslof; but here it did not long continue. Under the
khan Shagin Ghirei it was held at Cafta, the ancient Theo¬
dosia, which is ten miles distant from Eski-Crim, said to
be the Cimmerium of the ancients.
The principal cities or towns of the Crimea shall now
be enumerated. Perecop is a fortified place, consisting
only of three houses. I he suburbs are three veists or two
English miles distant, peopled by a thousand individuals,
who carry on a trade in salt; but they are very ill built.
The towns are chiefly situated in the district watered by
the Salgir. That part of the country in which Akmet¬
chet, or the capital, stands, is unfruitful, and ill provided
with water, and the inhabitants are exposed to endemi-
cal fevers. . This town has been called Sympheropol by
the Russians, since they became masters of the peninsula;
but it is only known in the country by the name which it
received from the Tartars. The population is not less than
20,000 souls. The inhabitants are indolent, and the place
is without commerce. rIhe distance from Akmetchet to
Baktchi-serai is not more than thirty versts, or twenty
English miles. It was once the residence of the khan,
and the Tartar capital of the Crimea. It is built on the
craggy side of a large natural moat or ravine between
two mountains, and surrounded with fountains, streams,
terraces, hanging vineyards, and groves of black poplars
near rocks and precipices. The vast palace of the khans
still remains, but many other edifices have been destroy¬
ed by the victorious Russians. The number ot inhabit¬
ants is now reduced to seven or eight thousand; their
anrs is iiuw 0
principal trade consists in cutlery and morocco leatfter.
Tchufut-Kali, an ancient fortress erected by the Geno-
ese on a lofty precipice, is not more than five versts trom
the last-mentioned town. It is now a place of
1200 Jews, of the sect Karai. The character ot the Ka¬
raites is very different from that of their brethren in othe
countries; they live without reproach, their honesty i
“roveS in the Crimea, and the word of a Kara.te .s ra,
to be as good as another man s bond. They sti adhe
to the law of Moses; they have rejected the lalmud, eve V
Rabbinical doctrine, and all interpolations of scr Ptu
texts. Koslof, which was for a short time dlstm^uls
by the name of Eupatoria, is situated on the western
coast; its port is the most commercial of any in tie 1
ninsula, and its population amounts to 12,000 mhabi >
C R I
many of whom are brewers of bouza, the Mussulman ale,
V which is drunk on the banks of the Sennaar. Akhtiar or
Sebastopol, a large naval arsenal, and a temporary station
of the Russian Black Sea fleet, from which it can sail in
twenty-four hours to the Bosphorus, is built on the south¬
ern extremity of the same coast. This was one of the
chief mercantile towns of the ancient kingdom of Col¬
chis: it now contains about 3000 inhabitants. The har¬
bour is excellent; the principal bay, which runs up be¬
tween four and five miles into the land, is from six to
eight hundred fathoms in width, and from ten to eleven
fathoms deep, is perfectly sheltered, and without a sin¬
gle shoal. After having doubled the capes of the Cher-
sonesus and St George, the voyager observes the narrow
entrance of the port Balaklava, where two thousand
Greeks gain a subsistence by trade and the produce of
their mackarel fisheries'. All the rocky and steep coast
from Cape Aia to Cape Aitodoro is probably the front of
the ram, or the Criou-Metopon, of the ancients. Travel¬
lers remark at the base of the mountains, or the Byzan¬
tine Klimata, the romantic towns of Nikita, Aloutchti, Sou-
dak, with its small harbour, and loursof, with a castle be¬
longing to the governors of Taurida. Caffa or the ancient
Theodosia is situated at the extremity of the mountains
on the bay of Caffa. It covers the southern side of the
gulf, and rises like a vast theatre of mosques and minarets
near the hills which inclose that part of the bay. It me¬
rited and obtained in past times the appellation of the
Lesser Constantinople. It contained 36,000 houses within
its walls, and not fewer than 8000 in the suburbs. It
must be confessed, however, that the ruins do not indicate
a space proportionate to so great a number. Mahommed II.
having made himself master of the Bosphorus, took the
town in 1475. It continued to flourish under the Tartars ;
but its inhabitants, like those throughout the Crimea,
abandoned their possessions at the approach of the Rus¬
sians, and the Genoese and Tartar monuments were de¬
stroyed by the barbarous troops of the czar. /The present
population is less than 400. Kertsh, once' ffie' residence
of Mithridates, and the capital of the Bosnliorian kings,
and Yenikali, a small fortress which commaMsTthe strait,
are situated on the eastern peninsula. Near the former is
the tomb of Mithridates; and a magnificent sarcophagus
at Yenikali is now converted into a reservoir. The Altyn
Obo, or highest hill in that part of the Crimea, is about
four versts distant from Kertsh.
The neck of land which joins the peninsula with the
continent is at least six miles broad, and is intersected by
a wide and deep ditch lined with stone, which reaches
from the Black Sea to the Putrid Sea. This was former¬
ly kept without water, but it is now filled from both seas.
On the Crimean side a high wall of earth runs across
i from one sea to the other. The people pass over the ditch
by means of a drawbridge, and through the wall by a gate¬
way. The walls of the fortress are some fathoms from the
road side, but the ruins are only now discernible, name¬
ly, large brick houses, with a number of bomb-shells and
cannon-balls lying about them, which were formerly kept
in the fortress. About two miles from this is a pretty
populous but miserable place, being probably the town to
? which this fort belonged. Near the gate is a custom¬
house, where all imports and exports pay duty.
! The Crimea was heretofore divided into twenty-four ka-
duliks or districts, namely, Yenikali, Kertsh, Arabat, Es-
ki-Crim, Caffa, Karasubasar, Sudak, Akmetchet, Yalof,
Baktchi-serai, Balaklava, Mangup, Inkerman, Koslof, Or,
Mansur, Tarkan, Sivasch, Tischongar, Sarubulat, Barun,
Argun, Sidschugut, and Schirin. Several of these dis¬
tricts are named after the town or village in which the
governor resides.
VOL. VII.
C R I
CRISPIN and Crispianus, two legendary saints whose
festival, as marked in the calendar, is on the 25th of Oc¬
tober. According to the legend, they were brethren,
bom at Rome, whence they travelled to Soissons, in France,
about the year o03, to propagate the Christian religion;
and because they would not be chargeable to others for
their maintenance, they exercised the trade of shoemakers;
but the governor of the town discovering them to be Chris¬
tians, ordered them to be beheaded. From this time the
shoemakers made choice of these missionaries as their tu¬
telar saints.
CRITHOMANCY, a kind of divination, performed by
considering the dough or matter of the cakes offered in
sacrifice, and the meal strewed over the victims which were
to be slain. Hence, as barley-meal was commonly used
in these ceremonies, this kind of divination was called
crithomancy, from barley, and fiavrua, divination.
CRITIAS, one of the thirty tyrants set over Athens
by the Spartans. He was eloquent and well bred, but of
dangerous principles, and cruelly persecuted his enemies,
whom he put to death. He was killed about four hun¬
dred years before the Augustan age, in a battle against
those citizens whom his oppression had banished. He
had been among the disciples of Socrates, and had written
elegies and other compositions, of which some fragments
remain.
CRITICISM, the art of judging with propriety concern-
ing any object or combination of objects. But, in a more
limited sense, the science of criticism is confined to the
fine arts. The principles of the fine arts are best unfold¬
ed by studying the sensitive part of our nature, and by
learning what objects are naturally agreeable and what are
naturally disagreeable. But the man who aspires to be a
critic in these arts must penetrate still deeper; he must
clearly perceive what objects are lofty, what low, what are
proper or improper, what are manly, and what are mean or
trivial. Hence the foundation for judging of taste, and for
reasoning upon it, is laid in the nature of things and in the
constitution of the human mind; and thus the fine arts,
like morals, become a rational science, and, like morals,
may be cultivated to a high degree of refinement.
CRITO, an Athenian philosopher, who flourished four
hundred years before Christ. He was one of the most
zealous disciples of Socrates, and supplied him with what¬
ever he wanted. He had several scholars, who proved
great men ; and he composed some dialogues, which have
unfortunately been lost.
CRITOLAUS, a citizen of Tegea, in Arcadia. He,
along with two brothers, fought against the three sons of
Demonstratus of Pheneus, in order to put an end to a
long war between their respective nations. But the bro¬
thers of Critolaus were both killed, and he alone remained
to withstand his three bold antagonists. He conquered
them, however ; and when at his return his sister deplored
the death of one of his antagonists, to whom she was be¬
trothed, he killed her in a fit of resentment. The offence
deserved capital punishment; but he was pardoned on ac¬
count of the services which he had rendered his country.
He was afterwards general of the Achaeans; and it is said
that he poisoned himself because he had been conquer¬
ed by the Romans at Thermopylae, about 146 years before
the Augustan age.
CROATIA, a part of the ancient Illyricum, is bounded
on the east by Sclavonia and Bosnia, on the south and
south-west by Morlachia, and on the north by the Drave,
which separates it from part of Sclavonia. It is about 160
miles in length, and 100 in breadth, and was once divided
between the Hungarians and Turks; but now the greater
part of it is subject to the house of Austria. The Croats
derive their origin from the Sclavi, and their language is
3 o
474
C R CE
Croesus.
a dialect of the Sclavonian, approaching very near to that
of the Poles. The country is divided into two parts,
namely, that under and that beyond the Save. The soil,
where cultivated, is fruitful in wine, oil, and other products,
but being a frontier country, and much exposed to inroads,
it is notwell cultivated. In 1809 the part of Croatia lying
south of the Save was ceded to France, and united with
the Illyrian ‘provinces; but in 1815 it was restored to
A CRCESUS, the last king of Lydia, was remarkable lor
his riches and conquests, his temporary prosperity, and sa
reverse of fortune. He subdued the Phrygians, Mysians
Paphlagonians, Thracians, and Carians, amassed immense
treasures, and became one of the most powerful and maS« '
"cent of princes. He invited the learned to h,s court and
took great pleasure in conversing with them. Thales 1
Miletus, Pittacus of Mitylene, Bias of Pnene, Cleobulus ot
Hindus, and other sages who lived in that age> ^ we
TEsop the fabulist, and the most elegant Greek poets of the
time, were welcomed at the court of Croesus. There is
still on record a memorable conversation which took place
between that prince and Solon, which seemed to predict
the subsequent events of his reign, and which had a late
but important influence on the character and fortune of
the Lydian king. Croesus having entertained Athe¬
nian guest for several days, ostentatiously showed him the
magnificence of his palace, and the riches of his treasury.
After all had been displayed, the king complimented So¬
lon on his curiosity and love of knowledge; and asked him,
as a man who had visited many countries, and reflected
deeply on what he had seen, whom of all men he accounted
most happy. From the particular occasion, as well as the
air with which the question was proposed, it was evident
that the king expected a flattering rather than an honest
answer. But Solon’s character had not been enervated by
the vices of a court, and he replied with a manly freedom—
Tellus the Athenian. Crcesus, who had scarcely jeaine^
to distinguish, even in imagination, between wealth and
happiness, inquired, with a tone ot surprise, why this pre¬
ference was given to Tellus. Tellus, rejoined Solon, was
not conspicuous for his riches or his grandeur, being only
a simple citizen of Athens; but he was descended from
parents who had deserved the first honours of the republic.
He was equally fortunate in his children, who had ob¬
tained universal esteem by their probity, patriotism, and
every useful quality of mind and body; and as to him¬
self, he died fighting gallantly in the service of his coun¬
try which his valour rendered victorious in a doubtful
combat; on which account the Athenians buried him on
the spot where he fell, and distinguished Ins memory by
every honour which public gratitude can confer on illustri¬
ous merit. After this answer, Crcesus had but little en¬
couragement to ask Solon, in the second place, whom, next
to Tellus, he considered as most happy. Such, however,
is the illusion of vanity, that he yet ventured to put this
question, no doubt entertaining hopes of being favourably
answered. But Solon replied with the same freedom as
before—the brothers Cleobis and Biton, two youths of Ar-
<ms, whose strength and address were crowned with re¬
peated victory at the Olympic games; who deserved the
affection of their parents, the gratitude of their country,
and the admiration of Greece; and who, having ended their
lives with peculiar honour, were commemorated by the
most signal monuments of immortal fame. “ And is the
happiness of a king, then,” said Crcesus, “ so little regard¬
ed, that you, Grecian stranger, prefer to it the mean con¬
dition of an Athenian or Argive citizen ?” The reply of
Solon justified his reputation for wisdom. “ The life of
man,” said he, “ consists of seventy years, which make
25,550 days; an immense number, yet, in the longest life,
C R CE
the events of any one day will not be found exactly alike Crc
to those of another. The affairs of men are liable to per- w
petual vicissitudes; the divinity who presides over our
fate is envious of too much prospeiity; and all human life,
if not condemned to calamity, is at least liable to accident.
Whoever has uninterruptedly enjoyed a prosperous tide
of success may justly be caWeb fortunate; but he cannot
before his death be entitled to the epithet of happy:
The events which soon followed this conversation prove
how little satisfaction is derived from the possession of a
throne. Victorious in war, unrivalled in wealth, supreme
in power, Crcesus felt and acknowledged that he was un¬
happy. The warmest affections of his soul centred in his
son Atys, a youth of the most promising hopes, who had
often fought and conquered by his side. The strength of
his attachment was accompanied with an excess of pater¬
nal care, and the anxiety of his waking hours disturbed
the tranquillity of his rest. He dreamed that his beloved
son had been slain by a dart; and the solicitude with
which the father watched over his safety having prevent¬
ed the youth from indulging in his usual occupations and
amusements, and thereby rendered him too eager to enjoy
them, most probably exposed him to the very misfortune
which his parent had dreaded the most. Having leluc-
tantly permitted him to engage in a hunting party, dm
juvenile ardour of Atys, increased by the impatience ot
long restraint, made him neglect the precautions neces¬
sary in that manly amusement; and he was slain by a dart
aimed at a wild boar of monstrous size, which had long
spread terror over the whole country of the Mysians. The
fatal weapon proceeded from the hand of Adrastus, a Phry¬
gian prince and fugitive, whom Crcesus had pui ified from
the involuntary guilt ot a brother s blood, and had long
distinguished by peculiar marks of bounty, lo the grate¬
ful protection of this Phrygian Crcesus had recommend-
ed, at parting, the safety ot his beloved son. A mournful
procession of Lydians brought the dead body of Atys to
Sardis, and the ill-fated slayer followed behind. When
they approached the royal presence, Adrastus stepped
forward and entreated Crcesus to put him to death; think¬
ing life no longer to be endured, after killing, fiist his own
brother, and then the son of his benefactor. But the Ly¬
dian king, notwithstanding the excess ot his affliction, ac¬
knowledged the innocence of Adrastus, and the power ot
fate. “ Stranger,” said he, “ your action is blameless,
being committed without design. I know that my son was
destined to a premature death.” But Adrastus, though
pardoned by Crcesus, could not pardon himself. When
the mourners were removed, he privately returned, and
perished by his own hand upon the tomb of Atys.
During two years Crcesus remained disconsolate for the
loss of his son; and might have continued to indulge his
unavailing affliction during the remainder of life, had not
the growing greatness of Persia, which threatened the
safety of his dominions, roused him from his dream o
misery- He marched against Cyrus with a great armjV
but was defeated; and retreating to his capital, Sardis, was
there besieged. The city was taken by assault; and as a
Persian soldier was about to kill Crcesus, that prince s only
surviving son, who had hitherto been dumb, terrified a
Z fathers danger, cried, “ Stop, soldier, aod toed »
Crcesus.” But though delivered by this extraordma y
accident from the blind rage of the soldier, see“iet
be reserved for a harder fate. Dragged into the PreJ
of his conqueror, he was loaded with irons; and theg
imrelenting Cyrus, of whom so flattering a pic U1 ,.
in the philosophical romance of Xenophon, orde h ^
with his Lydian attendants, to be committed o
An immense pile of wood and other combustibles was
accordingly erected in the most spacious par o
C R O
and the miserable victims, bound hand and foot, were
placed on the top of the pyre. Cyrus, surrounded with
his generals, witnessed the dreadful spectacle, having,
either from an abominable superstition, or from a motive
of curiosity equally detestable, bound himself by a vow to
sacrifice Croesus as the first fruits of his Lydian victory.
Meanwhile the unfortunate Lydian, oppressed by the in¬
tolerable weight of his present calamity, compared with the
security and splendour of his former state, recollected the
memorable conversation he had held with the Athenian
sage, and uttered with a deep groan the name of Solon.
Cyrus asked by an interpreter whose name he invoked.
“ His,” replied Croesus, “ whose words ought ever to speak
to the hearts of kings.”
The words of a dying man are fitted to make a strong
impression; and those of Croesus deeply affected the mind
of Cyrus. Considering the speech of Solon as addressed
to himself, the Persian repented of his intended cruelty
towards the unfortunate prince, who had formerly enjoyed
all the pomp of prosperity; and dreading the vengeance
which might lurk concealed in the bosom of fate, gave or¬
ders that the pyre should be extinguished. This event,
which saved the life of Croesus, recommended him to the
favour of his conqueror; and Cyrus gave orders that he
should be henceforth seated by his side, and treated as
a king. But the mind of Croesus had undergone a still
more important revolution ; for, tutored in the useful
school of adversity, he had learned to think with patience
and to act with prudence, to govern his passions by the
dictates of reason, and to repay by wholesome advice the
generous behaviour of his Persian master. This fallen
monarch survived his conqueror, and the manner of his
death is not known.
CROISERS, a religious order founded in honour of the
invention or discovery of the cross by the Empress Helena.
They were dispersed in several parts of Europe, particu¬
larly in the Low Countries, France, Bohemia, and Itaty,
where, however, they were soon suppressed. These reli¬
gious persons followed the rule of St Augustin. They had
in England the name of Crouched Friars.
CROISES, or Croizes, in English antiquity, pilgrims
bound for the Holy Land, or such as had been there; so
called from a badge they wore in imitation of a cross. The
knights of St John of Jerusalem, created for the defence
and protection of pilgrims, were particularly called Croises.
CROIX, Francis Petit de la, secretary and inter¬
preter to the king of France, in the Turkish and Arabic
languages, was born in 1622, and died in 1695, in his seven¬
ty-third year, after having held this employment for the
space of forty-four years. It appears that'he executed the
duty of his office with as much integrity as ability; for,
when the Algerines sought peace with Louis XIV. condi¬
tions were offered, by which theyr were required to reim¬
burse to this monarch six hundred thousand francs. The
terms being thought exorbitant, they had recourse to stra¬
tagem, and offered a large sum to La Croix, the interpre¬
ter, if he would put into the treaty crowns of Tripoli in¬
stead of French crowns ; which would have made a differ¬
ence to the Algerines of more than one hundred thousand
livres. But the integrity of the interpreter triumphed over
the temptation; which, in fact, was the greater, as it was
next to impossible that the proposed fraud could have
been discovered. Besides the Turkish and the Arabic,
the Persian and the Tartar, he also understood the Ethio¬
pian and Armenian languages, and is wrell known to the
learned world by many works. He translated the History
°f France into the Turkish language; he digested the three
volumes of Voyages into the East Indies of Thevenot; he
made an accurate catalogue of all the Turkish and Per¬
sian books contained in the king’s library; he composed
C R O 475
two complete Dictionaries of the French and Turkish lan-Cromarty,
guages ; and, at the time of his death, he w as about to pre-
sent the world with the history of Genghis Khan. He
undertook this history by the order of M. Colbert; a mini¬
ster who, altogether intent upon aggrandizing his master,
vvas accustomed every week to call together, either in the
king s library or in his own, certain learned men, whom,
according as they excelled in their several departments in
literature, he constantly set to work. This history, which
cost La Croix more than ten years’ labour, is useful not
only to the learned who are curious to know past events,
and to geographers who had hitherto been ignorant of
Great Tartary, but likewise to all who trade to China,
Persia, or other parts of the eastern world. There is a
good map of northern Asia drawn by Delisle, accompany¬
ing the work, which M. Petit de la Croix, the author’s
son, not only revised, but, in order to render it more cu¬
rious, added to it an abridgment of the lives of all those
authors from whom it had been extracted. It was trans¬
lated into English, and published at London, 1722, 8vo.
CROMARTY, one of the northern counties of Scot¬
land, comprehends what is called the old shire, situated
between the Frith of Cromarty on the north, and the Mo¬
ray Frith on the south, containing about eighteen square
miles, and also a number of detached tracts scattered
throughout the extensive county of Ross, annexed to it
in 1685 and 1698, by which it has been enlarged to 344§
square miles, or 220,586 English acres. Thedargest pf these
tracts lies on the western coast, at a distance of fifty miles
from the old shire, and the whole belonged to George Vis¬
count Tarbat, afterwards Earl of Cromarty, by whose in¬
fluence the acts of annexation were procured. The valued
rent is L.12,897. 2s. 2d. Scots, and the real rent in 1811
was, for the lands L. 10,860. 2s. 8d. and for the houses L.480
sterling, being, with the exception of Orkney and Shet¬
land, the least productive of land revenue of any Scotch
county. The surface is much varied, and the western parts
are barren and mountainous ; but on the sea coast, on the
east, there are some very fertile spots, which produce
wheat, and all the other crops cultivated in Britain. The
climate is moist, particularly in the western districts.
During three fourths of the year the wind blows from
between the south-west and north-west, the heaviest rains
proceeding from the southward of west. The most severe
snow storms are from the north-east. The average an¬
nual temperature is about 46° of Fahrenheit.
The old shire or sheriffdom of Cromarty, insignificant
as it was both in extent and value, is of great antiquity.
According to Dalrymple, the Urquharts were hereditary
sheriffs of Cromarty in the time of Edward I. The whole
county, and the much more extensive county of Ross,
through which it is interspersed, are now under the juris¬
diction of one sheriff, who has two substitutes that hold
their courts on the mainland, and a third in the island of
Lewis, politically attached to this district. The shires of
Cromarty and Ross unite in electing a member of the House
of Commons. The town of Cromarty was a royal bo¬
rough before the Union ; but the magistrates being unable
to pay their representative, petitioned to be relieved from
sending one. The county also must have been distressed
by the payment of what was then thought a heavy burden.
To induce a gentleman to become its member on one oc¬
casion, it was necessary that the principal proprietor should
become surety for his payment, and the engagement not
having been fulfilled, a considerable estate was conveyed
to him for his indemnification.
The county of Cromarty is so much blended with that
of Ross, and so similar to it in every respect, that it be¬
comes necessary to refer for a more particular account of
it to the article Ross-shire. The population will also be
476
C R O
Cromarty stated under that article, there being only one entire pa¬
ll rish in this county, and eleven more shared between it and
Cromlech. Ross.shire. . .
Cromarty, the capital of the above county, is situated
upon a promontory jutting into the neck of the sea com¬
municating from the Moray to the Cromarty Friths. * ie
ground being slightly elevated, the town has the advan¬
tage of a dry as well as pleasant situation, and it is altoge¬
ther one of the neatest and cleanest places of the size in
Scotland. Its harbour is safe and capacious, and well
adapted, from its situation, to become the depot oi trade
in the northern part of Britain. The principal manufac¬
ture is hempen bagging, which has been long earned on.
There is an establishment for some branches of the wool¬
len manufacture, an extensive brewery, and ship building
is now also carried on. The- staple trade, however, is the
catching, curing, and exportation of herrings .and other
fish. The population of Cromarty amounted in lb~l to
2649, and in 1831 to 2901. ,
Cromarty Frith, the arm of the sea above alluuetl
to, which runs off the north-western side of the Moray
Frith by a narrow channel of a mile and a half in width,
the shores of which are overhung by two hills called re¬
spectively the North and South Sutor of Cromarty, l ie
length of the strait is nearly two miles, after which the
waters expand into a beautiful bay of an average length
and breadth of six or seven miles. It afterwards passes
into a frith of from one to two miles in length. The bay
is an excellent place of anchorage during storms, and so
capacious, that nearly the whole British navy might with
the greatest safety ride in it within view of Cromarty.
CROMER, a market-town of Norfolk, on the shore of
the German Ocean, frequented in the summer by sea
bathers. It is 130 miles from London, and was once much
larger, but the sea has encroached upon its limits. Its in¬
habitants amounted in 1811 to 842, in 1821 to 1023, and
in 1831 to 1232.
CROMLECH, in British antiquities, huge, broad, flat
stones, raised upon other stones set upright for the pur¬
pose. These monuments are spoken of by Mr Rowland,
by Dr Borlase, and by Wormius, under the appellation of
A.r(Z, or altars. Mr Rowland, however, partly inclines to the
notion of their having been altars, partly to that of their
having been sepulchres; he supposes them to have been
originally tombs, but thinks that in after times sacrifices
were performed upon them to the heroes deposited with¬
in. An account of King Harold having been interred be¬
neath a tomb of this kind in Denmark, is still preserved,
and a skeleton deposited under one of them was discover¬
ed in Ireland. The very great similarity of the monuments
throughout the north evinces that the same religion or su¬
perstition had with some slight variations been spread in
every part. Many of these monuments are both British
and Danish, for they are found in spots to which the
Danes never penetrated.
The cromlech, or cromleh, differs from the kist-vaen, in
not being closed up at the end and sides, that is, in not
partaking so much of the chest-like figure; it is also ge¬
nerally of larger dimensions, and sometimes consists of a
treater number of stones. The terms cromlech and hist-
Zaen are, however, indiscriminately used for the same
monument. The word cromlech is by some derived from
the Armoric crum, crooked or bowing, and leh, stone;
alluding to the reverence which persons paid to them by
bowing. Rowland derives it from the Hebrew words
carem-luach, signifying a devoted or consecrated stone.
They are called by the vulgar coetne Arthor, or Arthurs
quoits, it being a custom in Wales as well as in Cornwall
to ascribe all great or wonderful objects to Prince Arthur,
the hero of those countries.
C R O
CROMWELL, Thomas, Earl of Essex, was the son of Cro
a blacksmith at Putney, and born in 1498. Without a li. U. /)
beral education, but endowed with strong natural genius,
he considered travelling as the proper means of improving
his understanding; and to this early token of his sound
judgment he stood indebted for the high rank and distin¬
guished honours which he afterwards enjoyed. He became
by degrees the confidential favourite and prime minister of
Henry VIII.; and from the moment he acquired any au-
thority in the cabinet, he employed it in promoting the
reformation. To his zeal in this cause, however, he at
length became a victim; for, in order the more firmly to
secure the Protestant cause, he contrived to marry the
king to Ann of Cleves, whose friends were all Lutherans.
But unfortunately Henry took a disgust at this lady, which
brought on Cromwell’s ruin ; the king, with his usual cruel¬
ty and caprice, taking this opportunity to sacrifice his
minister to the Roman Catholic party, to whom he seem¬
ed desirous of reconciling himself as soon as he had Ca¬
tharine Howard in view. Cromwell was, upon the whole, a
great politician and a good man; but, like most statesmen,
was guilty of great errors. In his zeal for the new religion,
he had introduced the unjustifiable mode of attainder in
cases of treason and heresy; and his enemies, who were
numerous (consisting of the ancient nobility and gentry,
who were enraged to see the highest honours bestowed on
a man of mean extraction, and the Roman Catholics, who
detested and had preferred many complaints against him),
availed themselves of his own law. He was attainted of
treason and heresy, convicted unheard, and beheaded in
1540. He was the chief instrument of the suppression
of the abbeys and monasteries, and of the destruction of
images and relics; to him also we are indebted for the
institution of parish-registers of births, marriages, and
burials.
Cromwell, Oliver, styled Lord Protector of the Com¬
monwealth of England, one of the most extraordinary per¬
sonages mentioned in history, was the son of Mr Robert
Cromwell of Hinchinbrooke, in the county of Huntingdon.
His ancestors were of very honourable extraction, but no¬
wise related to Thomas Cromwell earl of Essex, the prime
minister and favourite of Henry VIII. He was born in the
parish of St John Huntingdon, where his father mostly
lived, on the 25th or 26th of April 1599, and educated at
the free school of that town. Little is known concerning
him in his younger years, or indeed respecting his beha¬
viour in private life. It is, however, related by authors ol
unsuspected veracity, that when at school he gave many
signs of a very turbulent and restless disposition. He is
also said from his early years to have been subject to a
hypochondriacal disorder, and to many illusions ol the ima¬
gination. Indeed he had a very remarkable one while at
school. It happened in the day-time, when he was lying
in a melancholy mood upon his back in bed. A spectre,
as he thought, approached him, and told him that he
should be the greatest man in the kingdom. His father
being informed of this, was very angry, and desired his
master to correct him severely. This, however, produced
no effect. Oliver persisted in the truth ol his story, and
would sometimes mention it, though his uncle told him it
was too “ traitorous” to be repeated. From this school
Oliver was removed to Sidiiey College in Cambridge,
where he was admitted in 1616. His progress in his stu
dies is uncertain; but he spent much time in playing a
foot-ball, cricket, and other robust exercises, at w*^ie 1 e
was very expert. His father dying after he had been
about two years at college, Cromwell returned home, u
the irregularity of his life gave such offence to Ins mo er,
that, by the advice of some friends, she sent him to on
don, and placed him in Lincoln’s Inn. This expedien .
C R O M
n0 means answered the purpose; her son gave himself up
ryi to w'ne’ women» so that he quickly dissipated
^ all that was left him by his father. This profusion, how¬
ever, could be but of very short continuance; for he was
married, before he was twenty-one years of age, to Eliza¬
beth, daughter of Sir James Bouchier, of Essex. Soon
after his marriage he returned to the country, where he led
a very grave and sober life. This sudden reformation has
been ascribed to his falling in with the Puritans; but it is
certain that Cromwell continued then, and for some time
afterwards, a zealous member of the church of England,
and formed a close friendship with several eminent di¬
vines. He continued at Huntingdon, where he settled
iafter his marriage, till an estate of between L.400 and
;L.500 per annum devolved on him by the death of his
uncle Sir Thomas Stuart. This induced him to remove to
the Isle of Ely, where the estate lay, and here he embra¬
ced the puritanical doctrines. He was elected a member
of the third parliament of Charles I. which met on the 10th
of January 1628, and he was a member of the committee
on religion, where he distinguished himself by his zeal
against popery. After the dissolution of that parliament,
he returned again into the country, where he continued
to express much concern for religion, to keep company
with silenced ministers, and to invite them often to lec¬
tures and sermons at his house. In this way he brought
his affairs again into a very indifferent state; so that, by
way of repairing the breaches he had made in his fortune,
he took a farm at St Ives, which he kept for five years.
But this scheme succeeded so ill that he was obliged to
give it up; and at last, chagrined with his disappoint¬
ments, and made uneasy by the treatment which his party
at that time received, he formed a design of going over to
New England. In this, however, he was disappointed;
the king issued out a proclamation against all such emi-
; ■ grations; Cromwell, Hampden, and others, were obliged
to continue in England against their will; and with them
remained the evil genius of the house of Stuart.
It was in 1638 that Cromwell had first an opportunity
of getting himself publicly noticed. The Earl of Bedford,
and some other persons of high rank, who had estates in
the fen country, were very desirous of having it better
Jrained; and though one project of this sort had failed,
they set on foot another, got it countenanced by royal au¬
thority, and settled a part of the profits upon the crown.
This, though really intended for a public benefit, was op¬
posed as injurious to private property; and at the kead of
he opposers was Mr Oliver Cromwell, who had consider-
ible influence in those parts. The vigour he showed on
his occasion recommended him to his friend and relation
, Mr Hampden, who afterwards characterized him in par-
i lament as a person capable of contriving and conducting
I peat designs. But for all this he was not very successful
n his opposition; and as his private affairs were still de¬
fining, he was in very necessitous circumstances at the
ipproach of the long parliament. In this critical situation
ie got himself elected member of parliament in the f'ol-
owing manner. At the puritanical meetings, which he
constantly frequented, Oliver had most eminently distin¬
guished himself by his “ gifts” of praying, preaching, and
expounding. At one of these meetings he met with Rich-
ud Tims, a tradesman of Cambridge. This man was so
nuch captivated with Oliver, that lie took it into his head
1 o attempt getting him chosen as burgess for the approach-
£g parliament. Being himself one of the common council,
fims imagined that his design might be brought about;
i ind with this view he went to Mr Wildbore, a relation
ff Cromwell’s, to whom he communicated his intention.
. dbore agreed as to the fitness of the person, but told
llm design was impracticable, because Oliver was not
WELL.
a freeman. Tims next addressed one Evett on the same Cromwell,
subject, who also made the same objection. He recollect-
ed, however, that the mayor had a freedom to bestow,
and a scheme was immediately laid for securing this free¬
dom to Cromwell. On application to the mayor, however,
he told them that the freedom was already disposed of to
another; but this objection being obviated by promising
that person a freedom from the town, the mayor, informed
that Cromwell was a man of great fortune, signified his
intention of bestowing the freedom upon him. Our hero,
apprised of the good offices of his friends, made his ap¬
pearance in the court dressed in scarlet richly laced with
gold, and having, provided plenty of claret and sweet¬
meats, they were so freely circulated among the corpora¬
tion, that the mayor’s freeman was unanimously declared
to be a very civil worthy gentleman. When the election
came on, the mayor discovered his mistake, but it was
now too late; the party among the burgesses was strong
enough to choose him, and accordingly did so at the elec¬
tion next year.
When Cromwell first came into parliament, he affected
great plainness, and even carelessness, in his dress. His
attention to farming had entirely rusticated him, so that, in
fact, he made a very uncouth appearance. “ Who,” says Dr
South, “ that had beheld such a bankrupt, beggarly fellow,
as Cromwell, first entering the parliament house, with a
thread-bare torn coat and greasy hat, and perhaps neither
of them paid for, could have suspected that, in the space
of so few years, he should, by the murder of one king,
and the banishment of another, ascend the throne, be in¬
vested with the royal robes, and want nothing of the state
of a king but the changing his hat into a crown ?” Crom¬
well was very active in promoting the famous Remon¬
strance, which in reality laid the foundation of the civil
war. He declared afterwards to Lord Falkland, that if
the remonstrance had not been carried, he designed to
have converted the small remains of his estate into ready
money the next day, and to have left the kingdom by the
first opportunity. His firmness on this occasion so effec¬
tually recommended him to Hampden, Pym, and the other
leaders of the popular party, that they took him into all
their councils; and here he acquired that clear insight
into things, and that knowledge of men, of which he after¬
wards made such prodigious use. His exploits during the
civil war, and the usurpation, are related under the article
Britain.
\\ ith regard to the ability and character of Cromwell,
Mr Hume expresses himself as follows: “ It seems to me
that the circumstance of Cromwell’s life in which his abi¬
lities are principally discovered, is his rising from a pri¬
vate station, in opposition to so many rivals, so much ad¬
vanced before him, to a high command and authority in
the army. His great courage, his signal military talents,
his eminent dexterity and address, were all requisite for
this important acquisition. Yet will not this promotion
appear the effect of supernatural abilities, when we con¬
sider that Fairfax himself, a private gentleman, who had
not the advantage of a seat in parliament, had through
the same steps attained even to a superior rank, and, if
endued with common capacity and penetration, had been
able to retain it. To incite such an army to rebellion
against the parliament, required no uncommon art or in¬
dustry; to have kept them in obedience had been the
more difficult enterprise. When the breach is once form¬
ed between the'military and civil powers, a supreme and
absolute authority from that moment is devolved on the
general; and if he is afterwards pleased to employ arti¬
fice or policy, it may be regarded on most occasions as
great condescension, if not as superfluous caution. That
Cromwell was ever able really to blind or overreach either
478
CROMWELL.
Cromwell, the king or the republicans, does not appear; as they
possessed no means of resisting the force under his com¬
mand, they were glad to temporize with him, ajid, by
seeming to be deceived, to wait for an opportunity of free¬
ing themselves from his dominion. If he seduced the
military fanatics, it is to be considered that their interest
and his evidently concurred; that their ignorance and low
education exposed them to the grossest imposition ; and
that he himself was at bottom as frantic an enthusiast as
the worst of them, and, in order to obtain their confidence,
needed but to display those vulgar and ridiculous habits
which he had early acquired, and on which he set so hig
a value. An army is so forcible, and at the same time so
coarse a weapon, that any hand which wields it may,
without much dexterity, perform any operation, and attain
any ascendant in human society. .
“ The domestic administration of Cromwell, though it
discovers great ability, was conducted without any plan
either of liberty or arbitrary power; perhaps his difficult
situation admitted of neither. His foreign enterprises,
though full of intrepidity, were pernicious to national in¬
terest, and seem more the result of impetuous fury 01
narrow prejudices than of cool foresight and deliberation.
An eminent personage, however, he was in many respects,
and even a superior genius, but unequal and irregular in
his operations; and, though not defective in any talent
except that of elocution, the abilities which in him were
most admirable, and which contributed most to his mar¬
vellous success, were the magnanimous resolution of his
enterprises, and his peculiar dexterity in discovering the
characters and practising on the weaknesses of mankind.
“ If we survey the moral character of Cromwell with
that indulgence which is due to the blindness and infn mi-
ties of the human species, we shall not be inclined to load
his memory with such violent reproaches as those which
his enemies usually throw upon it. Amidst the passions
and prejudices of that time, that he should prefer the par¬
liamentary to the royal cause, will not appear extraordi¬
nary ; since even at present many men of sense and know¬
ledge are disposed to think that the question, with regard
to the justice of the quarrel, may be regarded as doubtful
and ambiguous. The murder of the king, the most atro¬
cious of all his actions, was to him covered under a mighty
cloud of republican and fanatical illusions; and it is not
impossible but he might believe it, as many others did, the
most meritorious action which he could perform. His sub¬
sequent usurpation was the effect of necessity, as well as
of ambition; nor is it easy to see how the various factions
could at that time have been restrained without a mixture
of military and arbitrary authority. The private deport¬
ment of Cromwell as a son, a husband, a father, a friend,
is exposed to no considerable censure, if it does not rather
merit praise. And, upon the whole, his character ooes
not appear more extraordinary and unusual, by the mix¬
ture of so much absurdity with so much penetration, than
bv his tempering such violent ambition and such enraged
fanaticism with so much regard to justice and humanity.”
It may be proper to subjoin the following remarks on
the same subject, by a writer as superior to Hume in
point of mere accuracy, as he is inferior to that historian
in philosophical depth and acuteness, and in all that con¬
stitutes the grace, elegance, and excellence of style :—
“ When, busy in his career of ambition, he had sought
his present lofty pre-eminence, he had been blind to the
dangers that must necessarily attend his elevation. The
enthusiasm that, in his better days—for it is to be hoped
that he was corrupted by success, and not inherently vi-
cious—had kindled the ardour of his own spirit, and dif-Crou
fused itself around him, making him brave every danger, Cy
was now stifled; because he found himself in a state of
envied greatness, cut off from sympathy with his former
comrades, tormented with jealousy of those he had trust¬
ed, detested by those who had started with him for the
attainment of an honourable purpose, beset with dangers
which threatened not only to degrade him from his un¬
worthy situation, but to humble him and his family to de¬
struction, and load his very memory with infamy, and be¬
reft of expedients to conduct the machine of government
much longer, while his hypocrisy stood unveiled, and he
could neither advance nor retreat with safety. He had
reason also to apprehend assassination, a species of dan¬
ger to which the human nerves are least commensurate.
The hazards of the field, where there is a call upon one’s
honour, every courageous mind can meet; but never to
repose one’s head without dread of the poignard, must ap¬
pal the stoutest heart; and Cromwell’s, with all its forti¬
tude and bravery, was so far from being superior to it, that
he is alleged to have worn concealed armour some time be¬
fore his death, and for a short period also never to have
slept for two nights successively in the same chamber.
Domestic afflictions hastened his dissolution. Amid all
the active bustle of life, the fortunes of the field, and the
dreams of ambition, Cromwell’s affections centred in the
bosom of his family; and from affliction there fortune
could not secure him. His mother, whom he loved with
the tenderest filial piety, died subsequently to his usurpa¬
tion ; and his favourite daughter, Mrs Claypole, was taken
from him this summer, while the manner of her death is
said to have added infinitely to his distress; his inexora¬
ble refusal of the life of Dr Huet having, it is alleged,
broken her spirit. He never could overcome his grief at
such a loss; and a complication of disorders, with care
and distress of mind, terminated in his death on the 3d
of September 1658, the day of the year which, as the an¬
niversary of Dunbar and Worcester, he had ever account¬
ed fortunate. As to his prayers, the conduct of his chap¬
lains, and the manner of his death, they are little to be
relied on. There is some truth, however, in the following
passages by Ludlow, that he 4 manifested so little remorse
for having betrayed the public cause, and saciificed it to
his own ambition, that some of his last words rather be¬
came a mediator than a sinner, as he recommended to
God the condition of the nation which he had so infa¬
mously cheated, and expressed great^care of the people
w’hom he had so manifestly despised. 1
That Cromwell continued a complete and bigoted en¬
thusiast to the very last, appears from his behaviour in his
last sickness. His disease, which at first was a k:nd of slow
fever, brought on by the cares and anxiety of Ins mind,
soon degenerated into a tertian ague. For about a week
the disorder continued without any dangerous symptoms,
insomuch that he occasionally walked abroad; but one
day after dinner his five physicians coming to wait upon
him, one of them having felt his pulse, said that it inter¬
mitted. At this Cromwell was surprised, turned pale, tell
into a cold sweat, and when he wTas almost fainting, or¬
dered himself to be carried to bed, where, by the assist¬
ance of cordials, he was brought a little to himself, and
made his will with respect to his private affairs. I he next
morning, when one of his physicians came to visit him,
Cromwell asked him why he looked so sad; upon wtncn
the professor of the healing art answered that so it became
every one who had the weighty charge of bis life an
health upon him. “ Ye physicians,” said Cromwell, think
1 Brodie’s History of the British Empire, &c. vol. iv. p. 420—422.
C R O
ff, I shall die- I tell you I shall not die this bout; I am sure
Y'.'ofit- D° not think,” said he to the physician, looking
* more attentively at him, “ do not think that I am mad; I
speak the words of truth upon surer grounds than your
Hippocrates or Galen can furnish you with. God Almighty
■ l himself hath given that answer, not to my prayers alone,
I ibutalso to the prayers of those who entertain a stricter
i commerce and greater interest with him. Go on cheer-
i; | ! fully? banishing all sadness from your looks; and deal with
1 ime as you would deal with a serving man. Ye may have
a skill in the nature of things, yet nature can do more than
all physicians put together; and God is far more above
nature.” As the physician was retiring from the chamber,
l ||he accidentally met with another, to whom he expressed
I* !his fear that the Protector was becoming delirious. But
the other informed him that the chaplains, being dispersed
the preceding night into different parts of the house, had
prayed for the Protector’s recovery, and unanimously re¬
ceived for answer that he should recover. Nay, to such
a degree of fanatical extravagance did they at last arrive,
that a public fast being kept at Hampton Court, they did
not so much pray to God for the Protector’s health, as re¬
turn thanks for the undoubted pledges they had of his re¬
covery. On this account, though the physicians perceiv¬
ed his distemper increasing every hour, they took no notice
of his danger, till it became necessary for him to appoint
a successor whilst he had yet any breath remaining. But
being then in a lethargic fit, he answered away from the
purpose; upon which he was again asked whether he did
not name his eldest son Richard ; and to this question he
answered in the affirmative. Being then asked where the
will which he had formerly made concerning the heirs
of the kingdom was deposited, he sent to look for it in
his closet and other places, but in vain ; for somebody had
either stolen it, or he had himself burnt it. Soon after¬
wards he expired, on the 3d of September 165S, aged
somewhat more than fifty-nine years and four months.
This day of September he had always reckoned as the
most fortunate for him in the whole year.
It has been imagined by some that Oliver Cromwell was
poisoned; but there seems to be no foundation whatever
for such a suspicion. Plis body was opened by Dr Bates,
who found the brain somewhat overcharged with blood, and
the lungs a little inflamed; but what he reckoned to have
been the principal cause of his disorder, was a total de¬
generacy of the substance of the spleen into a matter re¬
sembling the lees of oil. This, he thought, also accounted
for the hypochondriacal dispositions to which Cromwell
had from his infancy been subject. Though the bowels
were taken out, and the body, filled with spices, wrapped
jin a fourfold cerecloth, put first into a coffin of lead, and
then into one of wood, yet the corruption was so great
that the humour wrought itself through the whole; and
there was a necessity of interring the body before the so¬
lemnity of the funeral. A very pompous funeral was or¬
dered at the public expense, and performed, from Somer¬
set House, with a splendour not only equal, but superior,
to that bestowed upon crowned heads. Some have re¬
lated that his body was deposited in the field of Naseby;
others, that it was wrapped in lead, and sunk in the deep¬
est part of the Thames, to prevent any insult which might
afterwards be offered to it. But it seems beyond a doubt
that his corpse was interred at Westminster; for we are
I informed, that on the order to disinter it after the Resto¬
ration, it was found in a vault in the middle aisle of Hen¬
ry VlL’s chapel. In the inside of the coffin, and on the
breast of the corpse, was laid a copperplate finely gilt, in-
' closed in a thin case of lead. On one side of this plate
were ^ engraven the arms of England impaled with those
of Oliver, and on the reverse the following legend; Oli-
C R O 479
verius Protector Peipvhlicce Anglice, Scotice, et Hibernice, Cromwell
natus 25 Aprilis 1599, inauguratus 16 Decembris 1653, II
mortuus 3 Septembris ann. 1658, hie situs est. Cronstadt.
Cromwell was of a robust frame of body, and of a man-
ly though not agreeable* aspect. His nose being remark¬
ably red and shining, was often made the subject of ridi¬
cule. He left only two sons, Richard and Henry, and
three daughters, one married to General Fleetwood, ano¬
ther to Lord Fauconberg, and a third to Lord Rich. His
mother lived till after he was Protector; and, contrary to
her orders, he buried her with great pomp in Westminster
Abbey. She could never be persuaded that either his
power or his person was in safety. At every noise she
heard she would exclaim that her son was murdered; and
was never satisfied that he was alive if she did not re¬
ceive frequent visits from him. She was a respectable wo¬
man, who by her frugality and industry had raised and edu¬
cated a numerous family upon a small fortune. She had
even been obliged to set up a brewery at Huntingdon,
which she managed to good advantage. Hence Cromwell,
in the invectives of that age, is often stigmatized with the
name of brewer. Ludlow, byway of insult, mentions the
great accession which he would receive to his royal reve¬
nues upon his mother’s death, who possessed a jointure of
L.60 a year upon his estate. She was of a good family of
the name of Stuart; and is by some supposed to have
been remotely allied to the royal family.
Cromwell, Richard, eldest son of Oliver Cromwell,
was by his father appointed successor to the protector¬
ship, but he was very soon deposed by the army. They
discharged his debts, took all the household stulf, plate,
and other articles, gave him a protection for six months;
and so he retired. He was by no means qualified to sup¬
port the station gained by the great and aspiring talents
of his father. He was of a moderate temper, and untaint¬
ed with that fanatical spirit which his father had so suc¬
cessfully cultivated. On the Restoration he went abroad,
but returned in 1680 under the assumed name of Clarke,
and settled in Cheshunt, in Hertfordshire, where he lived
privately, and died in 1712, aged eighty-six.
CRONIUS, in Chronology, the ancient name of the
Athenian month Hecatombseon, which was the first of
their year, and answered to the latter part of our June
and the beginning of July. There were feasts called
Cronienes celebrated at Athens in this month, in ho¬
nour of Saturn, and answering to the Saturnalia of the
Romans.
CRONOBERG, one of the provinces into which the
kingdom of Sweden is divided. It is bounded on the north
by lonkoping, on the east by Kalmar, on the south by
Carlscrona and Christianstadt, and on the west by Halm-
stadt. It extends over 1760 square miles, and contains
89,631 inhabitants, in one city and 2482 hamlets. The
chief city is Mexio.
CRONSTADT, a city of Russia, in Europe, in the pro¬
vince of Petersburg. It is built on the island of Kodlin
or Codlin, which is about six miles in length and one in
breadth, and on both sides of which is a fair channel to
Petersburg; but the southern one is preferable. The city
is on the eastern end of the island, and is well fortified.
It is the great naval arsenal of the Russian empire on the
Baltic, and contains the appropriate docks for the con¬
struction and repairs of ships, and the necessary store¬
houses for their equipment, arming, and victuallings, and
the proper schools for the instruction of the officers of the
fleet. It is also a kind of commercial port to Petersburg,
as,the larger class of merchant vessels take in here their
lading, which is brought from the capital in craft of va¬
rious kinds. The city contains 2000 houses, mostly of
stone, and in summer 40,000 inhabitants; but as the win-
480
CKO
Cross.
Cronstadt ter is severe, and the bay covered with thick ice, which
11 suspends all marine operations, the inhabitants who can
afford it remove during the frost to the capital to enjoy
its pleasures, and leave less than 30,000 inhabitants at
Cronstadt. Long. 29. 35. 10. E. Lat. 59. 58. 26. N.
Cronstadt, a city of Hungary, in that division of the
province of Sieberbergen called the Saxon country. It
is situated in a valley watered by several brooks, which
run to the Alt before it joins the Danube. It is a walled
city, containing six Lutheran, two Greek, one Catholic,
and one Unitarian church, and contains, including the
large suburbs, 3200 houses, and 25,000 inhabitants, who
are chiefly of Saxon or other German origin. There are
both Lutheran and Catholic seminaries for the education
of persons of these respective professions. It is a manu¬
facturing place, producing linen and woollen cloth, hats,
leather, nails and other ironmongery wares. Among the
public buildings, the most remarkable are the theatre, the
council-house, the Franciscan convent, the exchange, and
the workhouse. It is in long. 25. 28. 25. E. and lat. 45. 36.
3°. N. ,
CROSIER, or Crozier, a shepherd’s crook, and the sym¬
bol of pastoral authority, consisting of a gold or silver staff,
curved or bent at the top, carried occasionally before bi¬
shops and abbots, and held in the hand when they give the
solemn benedictions. The custom of bearing a pastoral
staff before bishops is very ancient, as appears from the
life of St Caesarea of Arles, who lived about the year 500.
Among the Greeks none but the patriarchs had a right to
the crosier. The crosiers were at first no more than sim¬
ple wooden staves in form of a T, used to rest upon. By
degrees they were made longer, and at length arrived at
the form in which they are now to be seen. Regular ab¬
bots are allowed to officiate with a mitre and crosier.
CROSLET, in Heraldry, is when a cross is crossed
again at a small distance from each of the ends. Upton
says it is not so often borne by itself in arms as other
crosses are, but often in diminutives, that is, in small
croslets scattered about the field.
CROSS, a gibbet made with two pieces of wood placed
crosswise, whether they cross at right angles at the top,
thus f, or in the middle of their length, thus X. The
cross to which our Saviour was fastened, and on which he
died, was of the former kind, at least it is thus represent¬
ed on old monuments and coins ; and St Jerome compares
it to a bird flying, and a man swimming, or praying with
his arms extended. The punishment of the cross was
common amongst the Syrians, Egyptians, Persians, Afri¬
cans, Greeks, Romans, and Jews.
The death of the cross was the most dreadful of all
punishments, by reason of the ignominy and suffering
which attended it; and hence it was inflicted as the last
mark of detestation upon the vilest of people. It was the
punishment of robbers and murderers, provided that they
were slaves too ; but otherwise, if they were free, and had
the privileges of the city of Rome, this was then thought
too infamous a punishment for such a one, let his crimes
be what they might.
The Mosaic law ordained that the persons executed
should not be left upon the tree after sunset, because he
who was hanged in this manner was deemed accursed of
God. The Jews believe, that the souls of those who re¬
main upon the gibbet, without burial, enjoy no peace, and
receive no benefit from the prayers of other people; but
that they wander up and down until their bodies are in¬
terred. This agrees with the notions which the Greeks
and Romans entertained, as may be seen in Homer and in
Virgil (Mad, iv. and JEneid, vi.)
The form of a cross being such as has been already
described, the body of the criminal was fastened to the
CKO
upright piece by nailing the feet to it, and on the trans¬
verse piece generally by nailing the hands on each side.
But, as these parts of the body, being the instruments of
action and motion, are provided by nature with a much
greater quantity of nerves than others have occasion for,
and as all sensation depends upon the spirit contained in
these nerves, it follows, as Stanhope observes, that where-
ever they abound the sense of pain must needs be in pro-
portion more quick and agonising.
The Jews confess that they indeed crucified people in
their nation, but deny that they inflicted this punishment
upon an}' one alive. They first put them to death, and
then fastened them to the cross either by the hands or
by the neck. But there are indisputable proofs of their
having frequently crucified men alive. The worshippers
of Baal-peor and the king of Ai were hung up alive; as
were also the descendants of Saul, who were put into the
hands of the Gibeonites.
Before crucifixion, the criminal was generally scourged
with cords ; and sometimes little bones, or pieces of bones,
were tied to these scourges, that the condemned person
might suffer more severely. It was also a custom that the
person condemned to be crucified should bear his own
cross to the place of execution. After this manner we
find that Christ was compelled to bear his own cross;
and, as he sunk under the burden, Simon the Cyrenian
was constrained to bear it after him and with him. But
as it is generally supposed that our Lord bore the whole
cross, that is, both the long and the transverse part, this
seems to be impossible ; and therefore Lipsius (De Sup-
plicio Cruets) has set the matter in its true light when he
tells us that Jesus only carried the transverse beam; be¬
cause the long beam, or the body of the cross, was either
fixed in the ground before, or made ready to be set up as
soon as the prisoner arrived ; and from hence he observes
that painters are very much mistaken in their description
of our Saviour carrying the whole cross.
There were several ways of crucifying; sometimes the
criminal was fastened with cords to a tree, sometimes he
was crucified with his head downwards. This last way St
Peter chose out of respect to his master Jesus Christ, not
thinking himself worthy to be crucified like him; though
the common way of crucifying was by fastening the cri¬
minal with nails, one through each hand, and one through
both feet, or one through each of them ; for this was not
always performed in the same manner, the ancients some¬
times representing Jesus Christ crucified with four nails,
and sometimes with three. The criminal was fixed to the
cross quite naked; and in all probability the Saviour of
the world did not experience any greater tenderness than
others upon whom the punishment was inflicted. The
soldiers divided his clothes amongst them, and cast lots for
his tunic, which is an under garment worn over the flesh
like a shirt.
Sometimes they who were fastened upon the cross lived
a good while in that condition. St Andrew is believed to
have continued three days alive upon it. Eusebius speaks
of certain martyrs in Egypt who were kept upon the cross
till they were starved to death. Pilate was amazed at
Jesus Christ dying so soon; because naturally he must
have lived long, if it had not been in his power to have
laid down his life and taken it up again. The thig s o
the two thieves who were crucified together with our Sa¬
viour were broken, in order to hasten their death, t at
their bodies might not remain suspended upon the cross
on the Sabbath day, and to comply with the law of Moses,
which forbade the bodies to be left there after sunset.
But among other nations they were suffered to remain
upon the cross for a long time; sometimes they were de¬
voured alive by birds and beasts of prey; and guards
C R O
were appointed to observe that none of their friends or
,\ relations should take them down and bury them. The
story of the Ephesian matron and the soldier who was
set to guard the cross, is very well known. The Roman
soldiers who had crucified Jesus Christ and the two
thieves continued near the crosses till the bodies were
taken down and buried.
In former times, crosses were usually erected on the
tops of houses, by which tenants pretended to claim the
privileges of the Templars hospitallers, to defend them¬
selves against their rightful lords. But this was con¬
demned by the statute Will. II. c. 37. It was usual also,
in those days, to set up crosses in places where the corpse
of any of the nobility rested as it was carried to be buried,
that a transeuntibus pro animo ejus deprecentur. Crosses
are forbidden, by 13 Eliz. c. 2, to be brought into Eng¬
land, on pain of a prcemunire.
Invention of the Cross, an ancient feast solemnized on
the third of May, in memory of St Helena, the mother of
Constantine, finding the true cross of Christ deep in the
ground on Mount Calvary, where she erected a church for
the preservation of part of it; and the rest being brought
to Rome, was deposited in the church of the Holy Cross
of Jerusalem.
Theodoret mentions the discovery of three crosses,
that of Jesus Christ and those of the two thieves; and,
according to him, they distinguished between them by
means of a sick woman, who was immediately healed by
touching the true cross. The place is said to have been
pointed out to her by St Quiriacus, then a Jew, but af¬
terwards converted and canonized.
Exaltation of the Cross, an ancient feast held oi> the
14th of September, in memory of the restoration to Mount
Calvary in 642, of the true cross, which had been carried
off fourteen years before by Cosroes, king of Persia, upon
his taking Jerusalem from the Emperor Phocas, and after¬
wards recovered by Heraclitus.
The adoration of the cross appears to have been prac¬
tised in the ancient church : for the heathens, particularly
Julian, reproach the primitive Christians with this species
of idolatry, and we do not find that their apologists dis¬
claim the charge. Mornay indeed asserted that this had
been done by St Cyril, but could not support his allega¬
tion at the conference of Fontainbleau. St Helena is
said to have reduced the adoration of the cross to its just
principle, since she worshipped in the wood, not the wood it¬
self, which would have been direct idolatry and heathenism,
but him who had been nailed to this wood. With such
modifications some Protestants have been induced to admit
the adoration of the cross. John Huss allowed the phrase,
provided it were expressly added, that the adoration was re¬
lative solely to the person of Christ. But, however Roman
I Catholics may seem to triumph in virtue of such distinctions
and mitigations, it is well known that these have no great
place in their own practice. Imbert, the good prior of
i Gascony, was severely prosecuted in 1683 for telling the
people, that, in the ceremony of adoring the cross practis-
1 ed in that church on Good Friday, they were not to adore
the wood, but Christ who was crucified on it. The curate
of the parish, however, told them the contrary, affirming
that it was the wood, and the wood only, they were to
worship. Imbert replied, it was Christ, not the wood; and
for this he was cited before the Archbishop of Bordeaux,
suspended from his functions, and threatened with chains
and perpetual imprisonment. It little availed him to cite
the Bishop of Meaux’s distinction ; it was answered that
the church allowed it not.
Ciioss-Bearer (port-croix, cruciger), in the Roman Ca¬
tholic church, the chaplain of an archbishop or a primate,
i who bears a cross before him on solemn occasions.
VOL. VII.
C R o 481
The pope has the cross borne before him everywhere; a Cross
patriarch anywhere out of Rome ; and primates, metropo- II
iitans, and those who have a right to the pallium, through- Cr°talum.
out their respective jurisdictions. Gregory XI. forbade
all patriarchs and prelates to have it borne in presence of
cardinals. A prelate bears a single cross, a patriarch a
double cross, and the pope a triple one on his arms.
. ynoss-Bearers also denote certain officers in the inqui¬
sition who make a vow before the inquisitors or their vicars
to defend the Catholic faith, though with the loss of for¬
tune and life. Their business is to provide the inquisitors
with necessaries ; and they were formerly of great use •
but in process of time their constitutions were changed, and
they were called to undergo the penance of St Dominic.
. Pectoral Cross, is a cross of gold or silver, or other pre¬
cious materials, often enriched with diamonds, which the
bishops, archbishops, abbots, and regular abbesses, wear
hanging from the neck.
Order of the Cross, or Crusade, an order of ladies insti¬
tuted in 1668 by the Empress Eleonora de Gonzagua, wife
of the Emperor Leopold, on occasion of the miraculous
lecovery of a little golden cross in which were inclosed
two pieces of the true cross, from the ashes of part of the
palace, which had been consumed. It seems the fire had
bumt the case in which it was inclosed, and melted the
crystal, yet the wood remained untouched.
Maids of the Cross, a community of young women in¬
stituted in 1265, at Roye, in Picardy. They instructed
young persons of their own sex, and some took the three
vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, while others
retained their liberty. They were under the direction of
a superior.
Cross, in Heraldry, defined by Guillim an ordinary
composed of fourfold lines, of which two are perpendicu¬
lar, and the other two transverse; for sowTe must conceive
of them, though they be not drawn throughout, but meet
by couples, in four right angles, near the fesse point of the
escutcheon.
This bearing was first bestowed on such as had perform¬
ed, or at least undertaken, some service for Christ and the
Christian profession; and it is held by many to be the
most honourable charge in all heraldry. What brought it
into such frequent use, was the expeditions into the Holy
Land ; for the pilgrims, after their return, took the cross as
their cognizance, and the ensign of that war was the cross
on the shoulder. In those expeditions the Scots carried a
St Andrew’s cross ; the French, a cross argent; the Eng¬
lish, a cross or ; the Germans, a cross sable ; the Italians,
a cross azure; the Spaniards, a cross gules.
St George's Cross, or the red cross, in a field argent, is
now the standard of England; that saint being the reput¬
ed patron of this nation.
But it is not only in crosses that the variety is so great;
the same is found in many other bearings, and particu¬
larly in lions, and in parts of them, of which Columbiere
gives us no less than ninety-six varieties. Leigh mentions
forty-six different crosses ; Sylvanus Morgan, twenty-six ;
Upton, thirty; Johannes de Bado Aureo, twelve; and
others, whom it is needless to mention, other numbers.
CROTALUM, an ancient kind of castagnetta, or musi¬
cal instrument, found on medals in the hands of the priests
of Cybele. The crotalum differed from the sistrum, though
authors frequently confound them. It consisted of two
little brass plates or rods, which were shaken in the hand,
and in striking against each other made a noise.
It was sometimes also formed of a reed split lengthwise,
one part of which they struck against the other; and as
this made a noise somewhat like that of a crane’s bill, they
called that bird crotalistria, a player on the crotala. Aris¬
tophanes calls a great talker a crotalum.
3 p
482
Crotalys-
trise
Crousaz.
C R o
C R O
Clemens Alexandrinus attributes the invention to the
Sicilians, and forbids the use of it to the Christians, be¬
cause of the indecent motions and gestures which accom¬
panied it. ,. . „ •
CROTALYSTUIfE, in Antiquity, a kind of mprrice
dancers, admitted to entertainments, in order to divert the
company with their dancing and playing on an instrumen
called crotalum, whence they had their name.
CROTCHET, in Music, one of the notes or characters
of time, equal to half a minim, and double of a quaver.
Crotchets are also marks or characters, serving to in¬
close a word or sentence which is distinguished irom t ic
rest, being generally in this form [ ]•
m /"'I     . /i yn/J/V'J'l/■ I
spent in travelling, he returned to his native place, where Crc,
he was successively appointed pastor, professor of philo- ||
sophy, and rector of the academy. In 1724, he was called
£0 Groningen to teach the mathematics, and appointed
governor to the young prince Frederick of Hesse-Cassel.
The king of Sweden also conferred upon him the title of
counsellor of embassies. Crousaz died on the 22d of
March 1750, at which time he was a member of the Aca¬
demy of Bordeaux, and foreign associate of the Academy
of Sciences at Paris. His principal works are, 1. System
des Reflexions qui peuvent contribuev a let nettete et a l etude
de nos Connoissances, ou nouvel Essai de Logique, Amster¬
dam, 1712, 2 vols. 8vo; 2. Traite de Beau, ou Vonmontre
' uu, - . , ‘r^nnvrirdni a noble en quoi consiste ce qui l'on nomme ainsi, Amsterdam, 1715,
CUOTO, or Choxo^ m years 8v„!and 1724,2vols. 12™; 3.
city of the Brutti, founded by an Achean colony 759 years
before the Augustan age, and situated 150 stadia to .
north of Lacinium, and in the neighbourhood of Metapon-
tum, in the bay of Tarentum. Pythagoras, after his long
peregrinations in search of knowledge, fixed his residence
at this place, which some authors think was his native one,
at least that of his parents, supposing him to have been
born in the isle of Samos, and not at any town of the name
of Crotona in Italy. This incomparable sage spent the
latter part of his life in training up disciples to the rigid
exercise of sublime moral virtue, and in instructing the
Crotonites in the true arts of government, such as alone
can inspire happiness, glory, and independence.
Under the influence of this philosophy, the Crotonites
inured their bodies to frugality and hardships, and their
minds to self-denial and patriotic disinterestedness. 1 hen-
virtues were the admiration of Greece, where it became a
current proverb, that the last of the Crotonites was the first
of the Greeks. In one Olympiad seven of the victors in
the games were citizens of Crotona; and the name of Milo
is almost as famous as that of Hercules. The vigour of
the men and the beauty of the women were ascribed to the
climate, which was believed to be endowed with qualities
peculiarly favourable to the human system.
Of all the colonies sent out from Greece, this alone fur¬
nished succour to the mother country when invaded by
the Persians ; and by its avenging arms the Sybarites were
punished for their shameful degeneracy. But the victory
Ha<>-ue, 1722, 2 vols. 12mo; 4. Examen du Traite de la
Liberte de Penser d’Antoine Collins, Brussels, 1715, Am¬
sterdam, 1718, 8vo; 5. Geometric des Lignes et des Sur¬
faces rectilignes et circulaires, Amsterdam, 1718, 2 vols.
Svo; 6. Examen du Pyrrhonisms ancien et moderm,
Hague, 1733, fob; 7. (Euvres diverses, 1737, 2 vols. 8yo;
8. Traite de f Esprit Humain, against Wollf and Leibnitz,
1741; 9. Reflexions sur la belle \Volfienne, Lausanne, 1743,
8vo. * In his Traite de Beau Crousaz maintains that, to
constitute beauty, there must be a concurrence of five
qualities or conditions, namely, unity, variety, order, pro¬
portion, and regularity. But this definition, it must be ob¬
vious, is far from having that character of simplicity which
is suited to the nature of beauty; and a moie icfined ana¬
lysis has since demonstrated that the only condition neces¬
sary to constitute beauty is association with certain feel¬
ings and emotions of an agreeable or a pleasurable kind.
The most important of all his works, however, is the Ex¬
amination of ancient and modern Pyrrhonism, which dis¬
plays sound thinking, and no inconsiderable degree of phi¬
losophical learning. Besides the works above enumerated,
Crousaz was the author of some sermons, an essay on me¬
taphysics, reflections on gambling, remarks on the utility
of physics and mathematics, an essay on rhetoric, another
on motion, a treatise on algebra, observations on the logic
of Horace, an examination of Yo\>ds> Essay on Man, a
commentary on the analysis of quantities infinitely small,
punished for their shameful degeneracy. But the vretory ^ ^ own d by the academy of Bordeaux',
soon contaminated the purity of its principles. Not long
afterwards, the Locrians, who were less corrupted, defeated
them on the banks of the Sagra, and reduced the republic
to great distress and penury. This reverse restored the re¬
maining Crotonites to their pristine vigour of mind, and en¬
abled them to make a brave though unsuccessful resistance
when attacked by Dionysius of Syracuse. They suffered
much in the war with Pyrrhus, and, by repeated misfortunes,
decreased in strength and numbers, from age to age, down
to that of Hannibal, when they could not muster twenty
thousand inhabitants. This small population being- inca¬
pable of manning the extensive works erected in the days
of prosperity, Crotona was taken by the Carthaginians, and
its citizens w ere transported to Locri. The Romans sent
a colony thither about two centuries before Christ. In the
de VAcademie des Sciences, 1750, p. 779.)
CROW, in Mechanics, a kind of iron lever, with a claw
at one end and a sharp point at the other, used for heav¬
ing or purchasing great weights.
Crows Bill, among surgeons, a kind of forceps tor ex¬
tracting bullets and other foreign bodies out of wounds.
Crow's Feet, in the military art, machines of iron, hav-
four points, each about three or four inches long, and
so made that, whichever way they fall, there is still a point
up. They are thrown upon breaches, or in passesjvhere
up. Iney are tnrown upun
the enemy’s cavalry are to march, and prove a formidable
obstruction, by running into the horses’ feet and laming
^CROWLAND, a town of the hundred of Elbe, in the
county of Lincoln, in which formerly stood one of be
As the town is intersect-
lity to Justinian, and Totila besieged it long in vam
CROUSAZ, Jean Pierre de, was born at Lausanne
on the 13th of April 1663. He was one of the most prolific
writers of the eighteenth century; but his works seldom
rise above mediocrity, and are now but little lead. He
largest aoueys ui uic ,
ed with water-courses, there is a curious triangular bridge
which connects the several portions, with an inscnp i
bearing the date of 860. The inhabitant* amounted m
1811 to 1713, in 1821 to 2113, and in 1831 to 271&
CROWLE, a market-town in the wapentake of Manay
VVa iiiai ivr 1 T Inn It IS
w- extraction, and his father des- Xf Axhota,
fined him for the profession of arms, but he preferred tne situateu m a umionji snrrmmdinff coun-
more tranquil pursuit of letters. He applied himself particu- but now by ^^S ^de a part f th ^ fn 1821
lady to the study of the mathematics, and became a warm try. The mhabitants amounted n
partizan of the Cartesian philosophy. After some time to 1729, and m 1831 to ~1I3.
r -
Cr<
C R O
CROWN, an ornament worn on the head by kings and
sovereign princes, as a mark of their dignity.
In scripture there is frequent mention of crowns, and
the use of them seems to have been common among the
Hebrews. The high priest wore a crown, which was a
fillet of gold placed upon the forehead, and fastened with
a ribbon of hyacinth colour or azure blue. It seems also
as if private priests and even common Israelites wore a
sort of crown : since God commands Ezekiel not to take
off his crown, nor to assume the marks of one in mourning.
This crown was no more than a ribbon or fillet, with which
the Jews and several nations of the East begirt their
heads. And indeed the first crowns were no more than a
bandelet drawn round the head and fastened behind, as
we still see it represented in medals round the heads of
Jupiter, the Ptolemies, and the kings of Syria. But af¬
terwards they consisted of two bandelets, and by degrees
they took branches of trees of different kinds, to which
at length were added flowers, insomuch that Claudius Sa-
turninus says there was not any plant of which crowns
had not been made. The woods and groves were searched
to find different crowns for the several deities ; and they
were used not only by the priests in sacrificing, and by
kings and emperors, but also on altars, temples, doors of
houses, sacred victims, ships, and so on.
The Roman emperors had four kinds of crowns, which
are still seen on medals, namely, a crown of laurels, a ra¬
dial or radiating crown, a crown adorned with pearls and
precious stones, and a kind of bonnet or cap, something
like the mortier.
The Romans had also various kinds of crowns, which
they distributed as rewards of military achievements. The
oval crown, made of myrtle, was bestowed upon generals
who were entitled to the honours of the lesser triumph,
called ovation. The naval or rostral crown, composed of
a circle of gold, with ornaments representing prows of
ships, was given to the captain who first grappled, or the
soldier who first boarded, an enemy’s vessel. The crown
called in Latin vallaris, or castrensis, a circle of gold raised
with jewels or palisades, formed the reward of him who
first forced the enemy’s entrenchments. The mural crown,
a circle of gold indented and embattled, was given to him
who first mounted the wall of a besieged place, and there
planted a standard. The civic crown, made of the branch
of a green oak, was awarded to him who had saved the
life of a citizen. The triumphal crown, consisting at first
of wreaths of laurel, but afterwards made of gold, be¬
longed to the general who had the honour of a triumph
conferred upon him. The crown called obsidionalis, or
graminea, made of grass growing on the place, was the
reward of a general who had delivered a Roman army
from a siege. The radial crown was given to princes on
their deification. We meet also with the corona aurea,
often bestowed on soldiers without any other additional
term; athletic crowns, and crowns of laurel, destined to
crown victors at the public games, poets, orators, and
others. All these crowns were marks of nobility to the
wearers ; and in competitions for rank and dignities, often
determined the preference in their favour.
Crown, in an ecclesiastical sense, is used for the cleri¬
cal tonsure, which is the mark or character of the Roman
Catholic ecclesiastics. This is a little circle of hair shaved
off from the crown of the head, more or less broad, ac¬
cording to the quality of the orders received; that of a
mere clerk being the smallest, and that of priests and
monks the largest. The clerical crown was anciently ,a
list of hair, shaved off around the head, and representing a
real crown. This is observable in several ancient statues,
and in other monuments. Religious persons of the orders
of St Dominic and St Francis still retain it.
c R U 483
Crown, in Astronomy, a name given to two constella- Crown
tions, the southern and the northern. |j
Crown, in Geometry, a plane ring included between
two parallel or concentric peripheries of unequal circles.
CROWN E, John, a celebrated dramatic writer, born
in Nova Scotia, where his father was a minister. Being
impatient of the gloomy restraint of that country, he came
to England, where he was reduced to enter into the ser¬
vice of an old lady ; but of this he soon became as weary as
he had been of America. He then had recourse to his pen,
which quickly procured him favour at court; but this kind
of subsistence proving precarious, he ventured to solicit
Charles II. for some establishment. Charles promised to
provide for him, but insisted first on having another co¬
medy, and suggested to him the plan of a Spanish play,
from which Crowne produced the comedy of Sir Courtly
Nice; but the sudden death of the king on the last day
of the rehearsal plunged him at once from his pleasing
expectations into disappointment and distress, and left
him no resource but his wits. He died some time about
the year 1703; and left behind him seventeen tragedies
and comedies, some of which were acted with considerable
success. His chief excellence lay in comedy, yet his
tragedies are far from being contemptible.
CROXAL, Samuel, an ingenious English divine, who
in his youth wrote the poem entitled the Fair Circas¬
sian. He had the livings of Hampton in Middlesex, and
the united parishes of St Mary Somerset and St Mary
Mounthaw in London, both of which he held till his death
in 1751. He published many other poems and transla¬
tions, besides an English edition of iEsop’s Fables. In con¬
sequence of his attachment to whig principles, he enjoyed
some other preferments, and was chaplain in ordinary to
George II.
CROY, or Crouy, an island in the Indian Ocean, dis¬
covered by Kerguelen in 1773. It is about nine miles in
circumference. Long. 68. 34. E. Lat. 48. 10. S.
CROYDON, a town in the hundred of Wallington, in
the county of Surrey, ten miles from London. It is well
built, and pleasantly situated at the foot of the Banstead
range of hills. The church is a fine Gothic structure, and
near it are the remains of the ancient palace of the arch¬
bishops of Canterbury, now converted into a bleaching
establishment. The market is held on Saturday, and well
supplied. The inhabitants amounted in 1811 to 7211, in
1821 to 9254, and in 1831 to 12,447.
CRUCIFIX, a cross upon which the body of Christ is
fastened in effigy, used by the Roman Catholics in order to
excite in their minds a strong idea of our Saviour’s passion.
CRUCIFIXION, a mode of inflicting capital punish¬
ment by affixing the criminal to a wooden cross. This was
a kind of punishment frequent among the ancients; but,
in modern times, it has been confined chiefly to the Ma-
hommedans. On receiving sentence of condemnation, the
criminal was scourged, by way of prelude to the cruel
death which he was doomed to die. He was then forced
to carry his cross to the place of execution, where he was
stripped nearly naked, and affixed thereto by means of iron
nails driven through each hand and foot, or through the
wrists and ankles; and the arms and legs were sometimes
encircled by cords. When the criminal, instead of being
nailed to his cross, was bound to it by cords, this was de¬
signed as a more cruel, because a more lingering, punish¬
ment. Crucifixion with the head downwards, the mode
in which St Peter suffered martyrdom, maybe considered
as a refinement on this barbarous species of punishment.
See article Cross.
CRUCIFORM, in general, something disposed cross¬
wise, but more especially used by botanists for flowers
consisting of four petals disposed in the form of a cross.
484
CRUSADES,
Crusades. A name given to the military expeditions undertaken by
the Christians of Europe for the deliverance of the Holy
Land from the dominion of the Saracens and lurks.
About seventy years after the death of Christ, Jerusa¬
lem was taken and destroyed by Titus. _ But, sixty years
afterwards, the city was rebuilt by Hadrian, and the Chris¬
tians were permitted to return to it. Their establishment,
however, existing only by a precarious tolerance, was by
no means flourishing, till Constantine embraced the Chris¬
tian faith, and declared it the religion of the empire. Ihis
auspicious change, as might have been expected, greatly
improved their condition ; and when the Empress Helena
visited Jerusalem, this princess, having ordered the places
which had been signalized by evangelical events to be
cleared of rubbish, caused the most hallowed spots to be
inclosed within the walls of a spacious church, but, in the
latter days of the empire, as knowledge declined, supersti¬
tion advanced, and the feelings of reverence originally in¬
spired by Christianity itself were transferred to the mate¬
rial and visible objects with which the principal events in
the life of its great founder were associated. Hence, among
zealous but ignorant. Christians a strong desire was excit¬
ed to visit the scenes of our Saviour’s miracles and passion ;
and pilgrimages to Palestine accordingly became a frequent,
because they were considered as a meritorious practice,
throughout the whole of Christendom. In the year 637,
Jerusalem was taken by the Saracens ; but either from
indifference regarding observances which they despised,
or from motives of immediate interest, the resort of pil¬
grims to Jerusalem was not interdicted nor discountenan¬
ced by these conquerors. This toleration however ceased
when the Turks, in the year 1063, got possession of the holy
city. That wild, fierce, and fanatical horde, though superior
in force and military prowess, were yet immeasurably infe¬
rior in civilization, to the people whom they had expelled ;
and as they made no scruple to plunder and insult their Chi is-
tian visitors, the dangers of the pilgrimage, painted in the
darkest colours by those who had returned, began to threa¬
ten a discontinuance of what was then considered as a sa¬
cred duty. But a strong revulsion of feeling was ere long
produced. Terror yielded to the fiercest indignation, and
religious enthusiasm, blending itself with the martial spint
of the age, produced and stamped upon the general mmd
that adventurous character which ultimately led to these
memorable expeditions. About this time, too, an opinion
prevailed in Europe, which tended much to inflame the
desire to visit the Holy Land. It was believed that the
thousand years mentioned in the twentieth chapter of the
Revelations were fulfilled; that Christ would soon make
his second appearance in Palestine to judge the world;
and that journeys to that country were consequently in
the highest degree meritorious, if not even absolutely ne¬
cessary. Accordingly, multitudes of pilgrims flocked to
Palestine ; and as these were systematically plundered and
maltreated by the Turks, they on their return filled all Eu¬
rope with complaints against the infidels who had profaned
the holy city by their presence, and derided the sacred
mysteries of Christianity even in the place where they
were fulfilled. At this time Pope Gregory VII. had form¬
ed a design of uniting all the princes of Christendom against
the Mahommedans; but his exorbitant encroachments upon
the civil power of princes had created him so many ene¬
mies, and rendered his schemes so suspicious, that he was
unable to make any considerable progress in the under¬
taking. The work was reserved for a meaner instrument.
These memorable expeditions commenced in the year Crm#
1096. Peter, commonly called the Hermit, a native ofWy
Amiens, in Picardy, had made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem;
and, being deeply affected with the dangers to which that
act of devotion exposed the pilgrims, as well as with the
oppression under which the eastern Christians gioaned, he
formed the bold, and, to all appearance, impracticable de¬
sign of leading into Asia, from the farthest extremities of
the West, armies sufficient to subdue the warlike nations
by whom the Holy Land was now held in subjection. He
proposed his scheme to Urban II., \yho then filled the pa¬
pal chair; but this pope, though apparently sensible of the
advantages which would accrue to himself from such an
undertaking, resolved not to interpose his authority until
he saw a greater probability of success. He therefore
summoned at Placentia a council, consisting of four thou¬
sand ecclesiastics and thirty thousand laymen ; and as no
hall could be found large enough to contain so great a
multitude, the assembly was held on a plain. Here the
pope himself, as well as Peter, harangued the people, re¬
presenting the dismal situation of their brethren in the East,
and the indignity offered to the Christian name in allow¬
ing the holy city to remain in the hands of the infidels.
These speeches were so agreeable to those who heard
them, that the whole multitude suddenly and vehemently
declared for war, and solemnly devoted themselves to per¬
form this service, which they believed to be highly merito¬
rious in the sight of God.
But though Italy seemed to embrace the design with
ardour, yet the pontiff thought it necessary, in order to in¬
sure perfect success, to engage the greater and more war¬
like nations in the same enterprise. Having therefore
exhorted Peter to visit the chief cities and sovereigns of
Christendom, he summoned another council at Clermont,
in Auvergne. The fame of this mighty and pious design
being now universally diffused, the greatest prelates,nobles,
and princes attended; and when the pope and the her¬
mit renewed their pathetic exhortations, the whole as¬
sembly, as if impelled by an immediate inspiration, ex¬
claimed with one voice, “ It is the will of God; it is the
will of God.” These words were deemed so memorable,
and considered so much the effect of a divine impulse, that
they were employed as the signal of rendezvous and battle
in all the future exploits of the crusaders. Men of every
rank now flew to arms with the utmost ardour; a cross
was affixed to the right shoulder by all who enlisted in the
holy enterprise; and the projected expedition was denomi-
Xt thSTime Europe was sunk in the most profound ig¬
norance and superstition. The ecclesiastics had gained a
complete ascendant over the human mind; and the people,
who committed the most horrid crimes and disorders, knew
of no other expiation for their sins than the observances im
posed upon them by their spiritual pastors. But amidst me
abject superstition which then prevailed, the military spirit
had also universally diffused itself; and, though supported
neither by art nor by discipline, it had become the general
passion of the nations governed by the feudal law. A
great lords possessed the right of peace and war. mey
were engaged in almost continual hostilities; -t ® ,
country had become a scene of outrage and disorder, an
the cities, being still mean and poor, were neither guar
by walls nor protected by privileges. Every w
obliged to depend for safety upon his own force or
private alliances; and valour was the only quality he
CRUSADES.
esteem, or which gave one man a pre-eminence above an¬
other. When all the superstitions, therefore, were united
in one great object, the ardour for military adventure
took the same direction; and the whole of Europe, as the
Princess Anna Comnena expresses herself, torn from its
foundations, seemed ready to precipitate itself in one united
body upon Asia.
As all orders of men now deemed the crusades the only
road to heaven, they became impatient to open the way with
their swords to the holy city. Nobles, artisans, peasants,
and even priests, inrolled their names; and to decline this
service was to incur the reproach of impiety or cowardice,
probably of both. The nobles who enlisted themselves
were moved by the romantic spirit of the age to hope for
opulent establishments in the East, which was at that time
the chief seat of arts and commerce; and in pursuit of
these chimerical projects, they sold at the lowest price
their ancient castles and inheritances, which indeed had
by this time lost all value in their eyes. The infirm and the
aged contributed to the expedition by presents and money;
whilst many of them, not satisfied with this, attended it
in person, being determined, if possible, to breathe their
last in sight of that city where Jesus Christ had died for
the human race. Even women, having concealed their
sex under the disguise of armour, attended the camp;
and, as is said, forgot their duty still more, by prostitut¬
ing themselves to the army. The greatest criminals were
forward in a service which they considered as an expiation
of their crimes; and, during the course of these expedi¬
tions, the most enormous disorders were committed by men
inured to wickedness, encouraged by example, and impell¬
ed by necessity. The multitude of adventurers soon in¬
creased so greatly, that their more sagacious leaders became
apprehensive lest the vastness of the armament should
cause the ruin of the enterprise. For this reason they
permitted an undisciplined multitude, computed at three
hundred thousand men, to go before them under the com¬
mand of Peter the Hermit, and Gaultier or Walter, sur-
named the Moneyless, from his being a soldier of fortune.
These took the road through Hungary and Bulgaria to¬
wards Constantinople; and trusting that heaven, by su¬
pernatural assistance, would supply all their necessities,
they made no provision for subsistence on their march.
But they soon found themselves obliged to obtain by
plunder what they had vainly expected from miracles;
so that the enraged inhabitants of the countries through
which they passed attacked the disorderly multitude, and
slaughtered them almost without resistance. The more
disciplined armies followed after ; and, having passed the
strait of Constantinople, they were mustered in the plains of
Asia, to the amount of nearly seven hundred thousand men.
The fiist crusade, as already mentioned, occurred in the
year 1096 i he princes engaged in it were Hugo, count of
ermandois, brother of Philip I. king of France ; Robert,
duke of Normandy; Robert, earl of Flanders; Raymond,
earl of TouIoubo ; Godefroy of Bouillon, duke of Lorrain,
with his brothers Baldwin and Eustace; Stephen, earl of
thartres and Blois; Hugo, count of St Paul; with a great
number of other lords. The general rendezvous, as above
stated, was at Constantinople. Having besieged and taken
rvice, and defeated Solyman, in 1097, the crusaders under
o efroy proceeded eastward, where Baldwin conquered
Uimft ani* erected it *nt0 a principality. In the end of
they took the town, but not the citadel, of Antioch,
an defeated an army of six hundred thousand Saracens
wiich had advanced to the relief of the latter. In 1099
tney advanced to Jerusalem, with little more than a twen-
485
et i part of their original number, and, after a siege Crusades
of forty days, carried it by storm, putting all its inhabi-
tants^ except the Christians, to the sword. The victori¬
ous Godefroy was now raised to the throne of Jerusalem,
and soon added security to his conquest by defeating the
soldan of Egypt with an innumerable army on the plains
of Askalon. But the heroic chief was deprived of the re¬
ward of his valour by a papal legate, who had been elect¬
ed patriarch, and who contrived to unite the temporal with
the spiritual power, leaving to Godefroy only the small prin¬
cipality of Jaffa, and some immunities in that of Jerusalem.
The crusaders, seeing their object accomplished, now be¬
gan to return to Europe, and the few who remained in
the settlements of Jerusalem, Antioch, Edessa, and the
Syrian Tripoli, were obliged to depend for defence against
the lurks on the gradual accession of adventurers whom
the fame of their exploits had attracted from Christendom.
Thus terminated the first crusade.
I he second crusade, preached by Bernard, the founder
of the monastic order of Bernardines, and undertaken in
the year 1146, was headed by the Emperor Conrad HI.
and by Louis VII. king of France. Their united forces
amounted to about three hundred thousand ; but the em-
peror was defeated by the Turks near Iconium, and with
diAculty escaped to Antioch ; and, a short time afterwards,
Louis suffered a similar reverse, having, through the dis¬
affection of the Christians of Syria, been forced to raise
the siege of Damascus, and compelled to witness the ruin
of Ins army. The disastrous issue of these attempts for
their relief only hastened the decline of the Christian prin¬
cipalities in Asia. Having defeated the army of Jerusa¬
lem at the battle of Tiberias, and made prisoner Guy of
Lusignan, who then wore the crown, the soldan of Egypt
entered the holy city as a conqueror in the year 1187.
The third crusade, undertaken in the year 1188, im¬
mediately followed the taking of Jerusalem by Saladin.1
The princes engaged in this expedition were, the Empe-
roi Frederick Larbarossa, and Frederick, duke of Suabia,
his second son ; Leopold, duke of Austria; Berthold, duke
of Moravia; Herman, marquis of Baden; the Counts of
Nassau, Thuringia, Missen, and Holland, and above sixty
other princes of the empire ; together with the Bishops of
Besan^on, Cambray, Munster, Osnaburg, Missen, Passau,
Visburg, and several others. In this expedition the Em¬
peror Trederick defeated the sultan of Iconium; but his
son Frederick, having been joined by Guy of Lusignan, king
of Jerusalem, in vain endeavoured to reduce St Jean d’Acre
or Ptolemais. During these transactions Philip the Se¬
cond of France, and Richard the First of England, joined
the crusade, by which means the Christian army was raised
to three hundred thousand fighting men. With this enor¬
mous force Ptolemais was again besieged, and, in spite of
a very gallant resistance, taken; but Philip, unable to
biook the real or affected superiority of his rival, quitted
the Holy Land in disgust, and Richard had the undivided
honour of defeating the mighty Saladin. His victory, how¬
ever, was productive of nothing but glory. Reduced by the
casualties of war, enfeebled by the influence of climate,
and utterly paralysed by intestine broils, the army gradual¬
ly melted away, and Richard Cceur de Lion, like the pre¬
ceding leaders, returned to Europe, unaccompanied even
by a remnant of his once mighty host. But on his way
through Austria he was arrested and detained in prison un¬
til an immense ransom had been extracted from his sub¬
jects. Before his departure from Syria, however, he had
concluded a peace with Saladin, who soon afterwards died.
The fourth crusade was undertaken in the year 1195,
This is a corruption of Salah-Eddin, the true name of the soldan or sultan.
486
CRUSADES.
Crusades, by the Emperor Henry VI. after Saladin’s death. In this
expedition the Christians gained several battles over the
infidels, took many towns, and were in a fair way of suc¬
cess, when the death of the emperor obliged them to quit
the Holy Land, and return into Germany.
The fifth crusade was proclaimed by order ot 1 ope in¬
nocent III. in 1198. But those engaged in it made fruit¬
less efforts for the recovery of the Holy Land; lor, a -
though John de Neule, who commanded the fleet equip¬
ped in Flanders, arrived at Ptolemais a little after Simon
of Montfort, Reynard of Dampierre, and others, yet the
plague having destroyed many of them, the rest either re¬
turned, or engaged in the petty quarrels of t e
princes. In 1202, Baldwin, count of Handers, collected an
army to act against the Mahommedans,but commenced wi th
the Christians of Greece. Having arrived at Constanti¬
nople during a disputed succession, he temptedone clai ^
ant to assassinate his rival, then dispatched the othe y
the hand of the executioner ; and, having indulged his fol¬
lowers with the plunder of the city, seated himself on the
throne of the eastern empire. In this splendid conquest
the original object of the expedition was forgotten, and
only a few knights passed over into Asia.
The sixth crusade commenced in 1228. On this occasion
the Christians took the town of Damietta, but were after¬
wards forced to surrender it. The next year the Emperor
Frederick made peace with the soldan of Egypt, brother
of Saladin, for ten years, and obtained possession ot Jeru¬
salem by treaty. But the holy city was soon wrested
from the Christians by a new enemy, namely, the tartars,
who fled before the irruption of Genghis Khan, and, having
overrun all Judea, forced the crusaders to confine them¬
selves to the maritime towns on the coast of Syria. About
1240, Richard, earl of Cornwall, and brother of Henry 111.
king of England, arrived in Palestine at the head ot the
English crusade ; but finding it most advantageous to con¬
clude a peace, he re-embarked, and steered towards Italy.
The seventh crusade was headed by Louis XL common¬
ly called St Louis, who in the year 1249 took the town of
Damietta. But sickness having broken out in the Chris¬
tian army, the king endeavoured to retreat. In this, how¬
ever, he was unsuccessful; for being closely pursued by
the Saracens, he was defeated and taken prisoner near Mas-
soura, in 1750, along with nearly all his nobility. A truce
was then agreed to for ten years, and the king and his fol¬
lowers were set at liberty upon the payment of a ransom.
The eighth crusade, undertaken in 1270, was headed
by the same prince, who having embarked with an arma¬
ment from the southern ports of his kingdom, landed in
Africa, and encampednear the ruins of Carthage. But he
was immediately surrounded and besieged by the Moors;
a contagious distemper now attacked his troops, cailying
off great numbers ; and Louis, having himself caught it,
died in the fifty-fifth year of his age. The king of Sicily,
however, having arrived with a considerable fleet, and
joined Philip the Bold, son and successor of Louis, the
king of Tunis, after several engagements in which he was
always worsted, sued for peace, which was granted upon
conditions advantageous to the Christians; and after this
After this time there was no crusade, though several Crus,
popes attempted to stir up the Christians to such an under-
taking, particularly Nicholas IV. in 1292, and Clement V.
in 1311. Indeed, long before the age of St Louis the ap¬
petite for holy wars had been greatly blunted in Europe,
and, owing to the small number of recruits who arrived in
Palestine, the Christian settlers were gradually led to in-
termarry with their Moslemin neighbours. The descend¬
ants of the crusaders consequently degenerated into a
mongrel race, half Christian half Mahommedan, who ere
long either forgot their pretensions to an European origin,
or became altogether indifferent about the subject. After
Tyre and Ptolemais had been wrested from them they soon
became blended with the Mahommedan population of Syria,
and not a vestige of the Christian conquest remained.
The foregoing sketch embraces but a faint and meagre
outline of these memorable expeditions; but were the de¬
tails to be filled in so as to constitute an expanded nar¬
rative, several volumes would be insufficient to contain it.
What we have aimed at is merely to trace out in their
order the leading facts, to indicate the prominent charac¬
teristics, and to mark the immediate results of each suc¬
cessive enterprise undertaken for the conquest of the
Holy Land. Our object has been to direct the attention
of the reader, in the first instance, to the events them¬
selves, exclusively of all speculations either as to their ge¬
neral complexion, or the consequences, whether proximate
or remote, of which they are supposed to have been pro¬
ductive. What still remains, in order to complete the
design of the present article, is, first, to exhibit a general
sketch of the grand picture presented by the crusades;
and, secondly, to endeavour to estimate the influence
which they exerted, both at the time and afterwards, on
the state and condition of society.
I. The history of the middle ages presents no spectacle
half so imposing as that of the expeditions undertaken for
the recovery of the Holy Land from the Infidels. The
picture which these exhibit is that of the people of Eu¬
rope and Asia reciprocally armed against each other; that
of two religions in fierce conflict for the mastery. By a
sudden and extraordinary impulse, the West, formerly
menaced by the Moslemins, and indeed exposed to their
attacks, seemed to rise en masse in order to precipitate
itself on Asia. Forgetful of their individual interests,
sinking their mutual jealousies, and abandoning their an¬
cient feuds, the nations of Europe, uniting in a common
pursuit, fixed their eyes upon a single country as the only
one upon earth worthy the ambition of conquerors^ t
might have been supposed indeed that the world contamec.
no city but Jerusalem, and no country fit to be inhabited
except that in which Jesus Christ had lived and taught,
suffered and died. Every road leading to Palestine was
drenched with blood, and along its dreary tract lay scat¬
tered at no distant intervals the skeletons and the wrecks o
nations. In this general commotion the most sublime
virtues were displayed in the midst of the most ng u
disorders. The soldiers of the cross, animated with a su¬
pernatural enthusiasm, braved hunger and thirst, fatigue
both princes embarked for their own kingdoms. Prince and disease, ^ the^rJatcsUangers, and
Edward of England, who arrived at Tunis at the time of furyr of exasperate ’ , & rmthinff could
this treaty sailed towards Ptolemais, where he landed with amidst incessant disorders and excesses, g
f smXdy o7thre^ hundred English and French and shake their P”^
prevented Bendokdar from laying siege to that place; tion. After four yea7f‘0fbut as their
but being obliged to quit Palestine in order to take pos- Jerusalem was conquered by t!ie .c^.usade , ’ .Uence, but
session of the crown of England, this crusade ended with- conquests were not 1 ^ ^ ° ^d°™n jn_directed hero-
I
CRUS
roic hands of Godefroy of Bouillon into those of his feeble
and incompetent successors, Jerusalem, which had now-
become Christian, was forced to implore fresh succours
from the West. At the call of St Bernard, the Christians
a^ain took up arms, and, conducted by an emperor of Ger¬
many and a king of France, rushed to the defence of the
Holy Land. But they had no longer great captains to
command them, and no longer did they exhibit the mag¬
nanimity and heroic resignation which had distinguished
their predecessors. Asia beheld the new invaders with¬
out dismay; already it presented a different spectacle
from that which the first crusaders had witnessed. The
followers of Mahommed had recovered from their con¬
sternation ; they had even become possessed with a deli¬
rium similar to that which had impelled the crusaders
against them ; they opposed enthusiasm to enthusiasm,
and fanaticism to fanaticism ; and, in their turn, they
burned with a sanguinary zeal to shed blood in a religious
war. The spirit of discord, which had formerly proved
their ruin, was now' confined to the Christians. The lux¬
ury, the manners, and the climate of the East had en¬
feebled the courage of the defenders of the cross, and
caused them to forget the objects for which the holy war
had been undertaken. Jerusalem, the conquest of which
had cost the crusaders so much blood, fell into the hands
of the Infidels, and became the prize of a wise and war¬
like prince, wdio had united under his banners the forces
of Syria and Egypt.
The genius and fortune of Saladin enabled him to in¬
flict a mortal blow on the ill-cemented pow'er of the Chris¬
tians in the East. In vain did an emperor of the West,
and two kings renowmed for their valour, put themselves
at the head of the forces of their respective states, and
inarch to deliver Palestine. These new armies of crusa¬
ders found everywhere insurmountable obstacles or in¬
vincible enemies; and efforts, wEich promised so much,
produced only splendid misfortunes. The kingdom of Jeru¬
salem, the ruins of which were still disputed, had become
but the shadow of a name; and even the captivity and
misfortunes of the holy city soon ceased to draw tears
from the eyes of Christians, or to fill them with the trans¬
ports of a warlike piety. The crusaders who had armed
themselves for the deliverance of the heritage of Christ,
allowed themselves to be seduced by the riches of Greece,
and instead of rushing with fervid impetuosity on Pales¬
tine, stopped short to attempt the conquest of Constan¬
tinople. From this time the crusades began to assume a
new character, and appear to have had another object, as
well as another motive, than at the period of their com¬
mencement. Whilst a small number of Christians still
shed their blood for the deliverance of the holy sepulchre,
the greater part of the princes, leaders, and knights of the
cross listened only to the voice of ambition ; and the popes
completed the corruption of the original spirit by preach¬
ing crusades against Christian states and against their
personal enemies. Holy wars thus degenerated into civil
commotions, in the course of which religion and humanity
were equally outraged, while the rights of nations and the
liberties of mankind were trampled under foot.
This abuse of the crusades, and the fatal passions which
it called into play, had plunged Europe into disorder and
anarchy, when a pious monarch undertook once more to
arm the West against the Infidels, and to rekindle in the
bosoms of new crusaders the heroic ardour which had ani¬
mated the companions of Godefroy. But the two expe¬
ditions, directed by this sainted leader, proved the most
disastrous of all. In the first, the world had the specta¬
cle presented to it of an army in captivity, and a king in
mtters; in the second, that of a powerful monarch perishing
wear the ruins of Carthage, of the same pestilence which
A D E S. 487
had desolated his ranks. In Egypt, the fortune of arms Crusades,
placed him at the mercy of the Infidels whom he went to
conquer; in Africa, the plague claimed him as its victim.
Ihese misfot tunes contributed powerfully to dispel the
illusion which had so long reigned supreme over the pub¬
lic mind; and from this time Jerusalem ceased to excite
the passions or to attract the regards of the children of the
West. But Europe, much as it had suffered, was, by the
compensatory law of Providence, destined to reap import¬
ant benefits in return. So many revolutions did not take
place, so many distant expeditions were not undertaken,
in vain. Some gleams of civilization penetrated athwart
the darkness of barbarism ; and the first effect of the light
which the crusades began to scatter abroad, was to weaken
the spirit of exaltation in which they had had their origin.
Attempts were afterwards made to rekindle the flame
which had at first overspread all Europe, and burned with
consuming fury in Asia; but these proved utterly abor¬
tive. The nations recovered from their pious delirium;
languor succeeded to enthusiasm, and lassitude passed
into indifference ; so that, when Germany found itself
menaced by the Moslemins, who were already masters of
Constantinople, the banner of the cross could scarcely
summon together a few thousand warriors; and Europe,
which had risen almost en masse to attack the Infidels in
Asia, could oppose to them only a feeble resistance upon
its own territory.
II. Having thus endeavoured to explain the origin and
to illustrate the spirit and character of the crusades, it now
remains to show what influence they produced upon the
state and condition of society. On this subject different
opinions have been entertained at different times. In the
seventeenth century sentiment prevailed over reason; the
heroic valour of the crusaders was admired, their reverses
were deplored ; and, without reference to the good or evil
produced by these distant expeditions, men respected the
pious motives which had induced the warriors of the West
to take up arms. In the eighteenth century, which had
imbibed the spirit of reform, an opposite tendency showed
itself; and these enterprises were represented as the joint
product of ignorance, fanaticism, and barbarism. In 1773
Voltaire published a history of the crusades; but the sub¬
ject was then so generally decried, and the author had
thrown so much ridicule on the events which he related,
that his book excited little curiosity, and found but few
readers. The same tone was afterwards assumed by the
writers of the Encyclopedie, who adopted the sarcasms and
greatly exaggerated the declamations of Voltaire ; and this
mode of judging the crusades became so general, that even
the panegyrists of St Louis could scarcely forgive that
pious monarch his exploits and misfortunes in Egypt and
at Tunis. But in due time philosophy, enlightened by
research and analysis, investigated the causes of events,
studied their effects, and, searching for the truth, aban¬
doned satire and declamation. In the introduction to his
History oj Charles the Fifth, Robertson expressed his con¬
viction that the crusades had favoured the progress of free¬
dom and the advancement of the human mind; and the
conclusion of the historian, whether it flattered some of
the opinions of the time, or exercised on the public mind
the natural ascendency of truth, soon found many parti-
zans. From this time writers began to judge with less
severity of the oriental expeditions of the crusaders, and
to consider these as a subject of philosophical inquiry, ra¬
ther than as a theme for declamation or ridicule. Hence,
about twenty years ago, the Institute of France, in a truly
liberal and enlightened spirit, proposed to the learned in
general, as a subject of competition, the advantages which
society had derived from the crusades; and two memoirs,
one by M. Hercen, and another by M. de Choiseul d’Aille-
488
CRUSADES.
Crusades, court, obtained the prize offered by the Institute on this
' occasion. The object of both these productions, which are
remarkable for the erudition and sound critical spirit which
they display, is to establish the principle that the holy
wars were, in their consequences, productive of advan-
tao-es to posterity which greatly overbalanced the calami¬
ties they inflicted on contemporary generations, it may
be added that these very able and learned memoirs form
as it were the basis of Michaud’s more ample and satis¬
factory work, entitled Histoire des Croisades, to which we
are happy in having an opportunity of expressing our obli¬
gations Upon the whole, then, it appears that in the
course of two centuries, opinions have several times
changed on the subject of the crusades; and that, long
as the period is which has elapsed since these memorable
expeditions were undertaken, there is still great room or
tlm exercise of caution in endeavouring to estimate the
precise amount of the influence which they eventually ex-
Tt"may be'observed, indeed, that what the crusades want¬
ed in order to propitiate favourable judgments, was success.
Let us, however, suppose for a moment, that these distant
expeditions had succeeded to the fullest extent, and en¬
deavour to show what would, in that case, have been the
results. Egypt, Syria, and Greece would have become
Christian colonies; the nations of the East and of the
West would have advanced hand in hand in the career of
civilization; the language of the Franks would have pene¬
trated to the extremities of Asia; the coasts of liarbary,
inhabited by pirates, would have received the manners
and the laws of Europe; and the interior of Africa would
not long have remained a region impenetrable to the ac¬
tivity of commerce, or the researches of science and dis¬
covery. In order to judge what might have been gained
by this union of so many nations and races of men under
the same laws and the same religion, it is only necessary
to consider the state of the Roman world under the suc¬
cessors of Augustus, forming in some sort but one people,
living under the same laws, and speaking the same lan¬
guage. All the seas were free; the most distant pro¬
vinces communicated with one another by means of ad¬
mirable roads; cities exchanged their arts, their industry,
and their varied productions; nations maintained a com¬
merce of knowledge, on principles of perfect reciprocity.
If the crusades had subjected the East to Christendom, it
is not unreasonable to believe that this magnificent spec¬
tacle, which the human race had only once seen, would
have been renewed in modern times; and then opinions
would not have been divided as to the advantage of the
holy wars. But, unhappily, the crusaders could neither ex¬
tend nor preserve their conquests; they wanted the faculty
of improving victory, and they were unable to repair the
consequences of defeat. The results of the crusades,
therefore, are on this account more difficult to be deter¬
mined ; whilst the good which is ascribed to them is im¬
measurably less obvious and striking. The evils which
they caused to humanity were great, though temporary;
as to the good which they produced, it was like a germ
which remained long hid in the earth, and at length de¬
veloped itself slowly and imperceptibly. Let us, however,
glance at the state and condition of the different powers
of Europe before, during, and after the crusades, noting
the principal changes that occurred, and the ameliorations
which were gradually effected.
1. At the commencement of the twelfth century, tne
French monarchy had fallen into a state of weakness and
decay; but in the course of the succeeding ages, it re¬
vived and attained to great prosperity and splendour. Able
negotiations, successful wars, useful alliances, the decay
of the feudal system, and the progressive emancipation of
the commonalty, favoured the dynasty of the Capets in Cm,
the aggrandisement of their states and the increase ofW '
their authority. Several centuries were employed in con¬
summating this great work of fortune or of policy ; but
the revolution, thus slowly operated, was attended with ef¬
fects proportionally durable. The policy of the French
kings, however, was seconded by the great events of the
crusades; and it was natural that the nation which had
taken the greatest share in these enterprises, should profit
the most by them, for the increase of its power and the
amelioration of its social condition. The royal authority
derived equal benefit from the exploits and the reverses of
the numerous warriors whom the crusades had hurried into
Asia. The removal, the death, or the ruin of the great
vassals of the crown, equally enabled the sovereign to
disengage himself from the fetters of feudal anarchy, and
to establish order in the kingdom. More than a century
before the first crusade, the barons and the prelates had
ceased to meet in general assemblies, for the purpose of
regulating the forms of justice, and of giving to the acts
of the sovereign the support of their political influence.
But at the time of the second crusade, there were several
assemblies of the grandees of the kingdom, at which they
occupied themselves with preparations for the expedition,
and with measures for maintaining public order and the
execution of the laws during the absence of Louis VII.;
and in these meetings the French beheld a faint image of
the assemblies, so celebrated under the former races of
kings, in which the monarch and his subjects deliberated
together as to the best means of insuring the safety of the
throne and the independence of the nation. Thus the
crusades aided the kings of France in recovering their le¬
gislative power, and enabled the more enlightened portion
of the nation to repossess themselves of those ancient pre¬
rogatives which they had exercised under the descendants
of Clovis and of Charlemagne. The great vassals who, in
the time of Hugues Capet, and for more than a century
afterwards, had been continually opposed to the crown,
from which they had separated their interests, became
animated with different sentiments when they saw the
French monarchs at the head of expeditions which fixed
the attention of Christendom, and in which the cause of
Jesus Christ himself and that of all Christian nations was
concerned. In a word, to understand how much the kings
of France were indebted to the crusades, and how much
they gained by the part they took in these expeditions, it
is only necessary to compare Philip I. shut up in hi® Pa"
lace during the council of Clermont, excommunicated by
Urban, condemned by the bishops, and abandoned by his
grandees, with Philip-Augustus, victorious over Saladin m
Syria, and over the enemies of his kingdom at Bouvines;
or with Louis XL surrounded in his reverses by a faithful
nobility, respected by the clergy and people, revered as
the firmest supporter of the church, and proclaimed by
his age the arbiter of Europe. The crusades, indeed, were
the signal of a new order of things in France, the founda¬
tions of which were laid with great solidity during tne
wars in Palestine and in other countries of the East.
2. If royalty had sunk to a low ebb in France at tne
period of the first crusade, in England it was lusty and
vigorous, and, together with the feudal system, presse
upon the nation with all the weight of the tyranny esta¬
blished by William the Conqueror. But an authori y
founded by victory and supported by violence, inspired a
feeling of opposition which time and circumstances auer-
wards developed. Military despotism had succeeded n
silencing opinion ; but it had failed to produce an e
change in the manners of the English, or to eradica e
attachment to their ancient customs. The PasslJn*
pressed by the swmrd found vent when the force of
CRUSADES.
,a. Was removed, and broke out with a vehemence proportioned
p to the constraints to which they had previously been sub¬
jected. In England, therefore, the change which took
place was just the reverse of that which had been effected
in France. A monarchy formerly powerful began to de¬
cline, and liberty made progress at the expense of the
royal authority. The crusades, however, had probably
less influence on the civilization of England than on that
of several other states of Europe; but they may, never¬
theless, have concurred with other causes in accelerating
the changes which afterwards took place in the English
monarchy. Richard Cceur de Lion showed himself more
anxious to acquire the renown of a great captain than the
reputation of a great king; and in seeking glory in arms,
he neglected the cares of government. At his departure
for Palestine he sold the revenues, prerogatives, and do¬
mains of the crown, and would have sold the city of Lon¬
don itself if he had found a purchaser ; but his reverses
and his captivity ruined his people, and his long absence
nourished the spirit of faction among the nobility, nay
even in the bosom of his own family. The English barons
several times indicated a determination to set out for the
East without the permission of the king; and the thought
of opposing a monarch whom they disliked heightened
their impatience to embark for Palestine. In fact, princes
sought to take advantage of the opinions of their time,
and engaged to join the crusades for the sole purpose of
obtaining subsidies, which they employed in other enter¬
prises ; conduct which brought contempt on their policy,
and increased the public distrust of all their proceedings.
But there was another cause which mainly contributed to
subvert the foundations of absolute monarchy in England;
we mean the violent enterprises of the popes against the
sovereigns of that country, enterprises which were favour¬
ed by the spirit of the religious wars. In the league of
the barons against Henry III., the rebels bore the badge
or ensign of a cross, as in the wars beyond sea, and the
priests promised the crown of martyrdom to all who should
die in the cause of liberty. It is a remarkable circum¬
stance that the chief of the league formed for establish¬
ing the independence of the English nation was a French
gentleman, the son of the Count de Montfort, who had
acquired so great renown in the crusade against the Al-
bigenses. After long and persevering efforts, liberty at
length took root in that soil whence we trust it will never
be eradicated, and many fierce and painful struggles issued
in positive and durable results, of which succeeding ages
reaped the full benefit.
3. But whilst the monarchy of France was strengthened
at the expense of liberty, and liberty in England was con¬
quered from the monarchy, Germany presented a different
spectacle, and the empire, which had flourished till the
I commencement of the eleventh century, exhibited symp¬
toms of a rapid decline during the period of the crusades.
In order to resist the great vassals, the emperors granted
several advantages to the clergy, and conferred privileges
on the towns. But the clergy employed these advantages
in favour of the popes, who attacked the imperial power ;
and the towns profited by the concessions made to them
in order to establish their independence. In spite of all
the efforts of the emperors, the crown remained elective,
whilst the great fiefs had become hereditary; and thus the
heads of the empire depended for their election on the
nobility and princes who had freed themselves from all
dependence. The succession was therefore a subject of
perpetual intrigue and contention, whilst, in the struggle,
ambition was often preferred to moderation and virtue.
Amongst the princes who ascended the imperial throne,
several were men of great character ; but their active and
stirring genius hurrying them into disproportionate enter-
vou VII.'
489
prises, exhausted their means, and accelerated the decline Crusades,
of the empire. The recollection of ancient Rome, and of
t ie power of the Caesars, was continually present to their
thoughts. They carried their arms into Italy, where a
wai of extermination w'as declared against them by the
popes ; two families of emperors sunk under the thunders
of Rome ; and whilst they exhausted themselves in vain
efforts to establish their power in Italy, they completed
the ruin of their influence in Germany. The policy pur¬
sued by the kings of France was wiser and more fortunate.
They confined their efforts to the extension of their own
power; their conquests tended only to reunite the scat¬
tered branches of a great family ; and their authority be¬
came more popular, in proportion as they came to be consi¬
dered as the natural bond of connection between the French
of all the provinces. But the glory which the emperors
of Germany acquired by their conquests was personal to
themselves, and possessed no attraction for the German
people. It had nothing in common with the nation of
which they were only the nominal heads; it was neither a
principle of union nor a source of support; it combined no
interests, it appealed to no national feelings; and each
sought his own safety or his own aggrandisement by his
individual means. Hence arose a state of things more
fatal to Germany than even the absolute power of the
emperors. From the ruins of imperial greatness there
sprung up a multitude of small states, opposed to one
another by difference of laws and by a spirit of rivalry;
and whilst the monarchical spirit predominated in these
principalities, secular as well as ecclesiastical,—whilst the
great towns were actuated by the love of liberty and in¬
dependence, and the nobility continued to urge the pre¬
tensions of the aristocracy,—it was vain to expect that,
having conflicting interests, they would pursue the same
policy, or direct their efforts towards any common and
salutary end. The popes continually interposed; great
disorders were produced; the sceptre of Charlemagne
was broken ; pretenders to the imperial dignity multi¬
plied, under the encouragement of Rome, in proportion as
the empire itself w^as falling to pieces; and, in the midst
of this anarchy, Germany lost its political as it afterwards
did its religious unity. The enormous and inert mass of
the confederation could never be set in motion ; even the
presence of actual danger failed to awaken its energy, or
to induce it to adopt any vigorous decision for the safety
of Germany. In the meanwhile, the crusades afforded a
pretext, of which the popes availed themselves, for re¬
moving the emperors of Germany, and hurrying them into
disastrous expeditions, which accelerated the ruin of their
power; and thus the enthusiasm of the holy wars, which
contributed to unite other Christian nations, only served
to produce confusion and disorder in the bosom of the
empire. At the same time, it was under the influence
and auspices of the court of Rome, whilst seriously occu¬
pied with a crusade, that the family of Rodolph of Haps-
burg took its rise ; a family whose power restored to the
empire something of its ancient splendour, and saved
Europe from the invasion of the Turks. It was also dur¬
ing the epoch of the crusades that the cities of Dantzick,
Thorn, Elbing, Kdnigsberg, and others, sprung up in the
midst of deserts and of forests ; that Finland, Lithuania,
Pomerania, and Silesia, became flourishing provinces; and
that new states were formed, destined afterwards to oc¬
cupy a high rank among the powers of Europe.
4. If from Germany we turn to Italy, we shall there
find other forms of government, and revolutions of a dif¬
ferent character. When the last columns of the Roman
empire were overturned, Italy found itself covered with
The Huns, Franks, Vandals, Goths, Germans, and
Lombards, successively carried into that fine country the
3 Q
Crusades, scourge of their domination, and left there traces of their
manners, their legislation, and their character. But, in
the tenth century, when the emperors of Constantinople
could no longer extend their arms to Italy, other powers
arose, some by conquest, others by fortune, and others
again by means unknown to history. The influence o
the popes sometimes defended Italy with success agains
the invasions and the yoke of the emperors of Germany ;
but the struggle was protracted, whilst the various fortune
of the contest served only to perpetuate confusion and
discord ; and, during several centuries, the factions ot the
Guelphs and Gibelines desolated Italy without defending
it. That country, unfortunately, had no point of centra¬
lization around which to rally and unite ds means of de¬
fence. On the contrary, divided into a multitude of pet y
states, it reckoned within its natural boundaries several
nations, and twenty republics, each having its own laws,
its own interests, and its own history. Amongst a nume¬
rous population thus split into factions, there could scarce¬
ly prevail any community of feeling, because there exist¬
ed no identity of interest; whilst, on the other hand, all
the elements of disorder and contention were accumulated
in destructive abundance. Hence we find little else than
continual wars and strifes, not only between different
towns and different states, but even between the citizens
of the same town or the same republic; strangers were
called in to take part in their intestine feuds ; and the same
mutual distrust which hired and armed mercenary adven¬
turers to decide their disputes, destroyed the true senti¬
ment of patriotism, and almost effaced the remembiance o
the Italian name. The feudal system was abolished in
Italy sooner than in other countries ; but with this system
disappeared the ancient honour of the preux chevaliers, and
all the virtues of chivalry. In republics defended by mer¬
cenaries bravery ceased to be respected, and the generous
sentiments which it inspires were forgotten. A loose rein
was given to the most violent passions ; excesses of hatred
and vengeance, which appear scarcely probable even m our
tragedies, were indulged in; the finest country in Europe
seemed to be peopled with demons incarnate; and Uante
had only to look around him in order to find the model of
his Inferno. Society, always ready to fall in pieces, seemed
to have no other motive force than the fury of parties,
no other life than discord and civil war; against anarchy
there was no guarantee but tyranny, against tyranny none
but the despair of factions and the daggers of conspira¬
tors. As the power of the little states which covered Italy
was disproportioned to their ambition, their rulers were
consequently weak, and, wanting both courage and mode¬
ration, they sought their aggrandisement or their safety
by all the means which treachery or perfidy could suggest.
Any plot however infamous, any proceeding however scan¬
dalous, any crime however great, appeared good in their
eyes, provided it only served to support their quarrels or
to satisfy their ambition and their jealousy. Morality, m
short, disappeared; and then was formed that school of po¬
litics, the maxims of which are embodied, for the purpose
probably of exposing them, in the Prince of Machiavelli.
At the period of the crusades, however, the cities of Lom¬
bardy, and the republics of Genoa, Pisa, and Venice, had
attained great prosperity. This arose from the commerce
of the East, which Italy had carried on before the epoch
of these expeditions, and which it continued with all the
additional advantages offered by the contest in Palestine.
But these mercantile republics, which had their attention
continually fixed on Syria, Egypt, and Greece, were bet¬
ter fitted to enrich Italy with the products of their com¬
mercial industry than to nurse among the Italians the
sentiment of true independence. At the same time, the
power of Venice was everywhere advanced by the arms
of the crusaders, and by the men of that age the queen of Cru%
the Adriatic was regarded as the empress of the East.
Her decay commenced only at the period when the pro¬
gress of navigation, to which she had so greatly contri¬
buted, opened a new passage to the Indies, and led to the
discovery of a new world. The greater part of the other
republics had neither the same lustre nor the same dura¬
tion, but, towards the close of the crusades, disappeared
in the chaos and tumult of discord and civil war. As to
the kingdom of Naples and Sicily, it formed, as it were,
part of the high road by which the crusaders marched to
Greece and to Palestine; and as its riches appeared to
have no protectors, a country which its inhabitants had
never been able to defend naturally tempted the cupidi¬
ty of the princes and knights proceeding to seek their
fortunes in Asia. For more than tv/o centuries, accord¬
ingly, its history is blended with that of the crusades,
which often served as a pretext or occasion for conquering
it; whilst, as to the wars in which this kingdom engaged,
they exhibit monstrous crimes rather than glorious ex¬
ploits, revolts instead of battles, and consummate cowar¬
dice united with remorseless and unsparing cruelty.
5. During the course of the crusades Spain was chiefly
occupied in defending her own hearths against the same
Saracens whom the people of other nations of Europe went
to combat in the East. Accordingly, she did not take part
in these enterprises until the spirit in which they originat¬
ed had begun to decline in the rest of Europe. This coun¬
try, however, derived some advantages from the expedi¬
tions to the East. In almost all the enterprises of Chris¬
tendom against the Mnslemins of Asia, a great number of
crusadersBdisembarked on the shores of Spain in order to
combat the Mbors ; and several crusades were published
in the West against the infidel masters of the Peninsula.
The celebrated victory gained over the Moors at Tolosa
was the fruit of a crusade preached in Europe, and parti¬
cularly in France, by order of the sovereign pontiff. The
expeditions beyond sea also aided the cause of the Spa¬
niards, by detaining in their own country the Saracens
of Egypt and Syria, who might otherwise have joined
those on the coasts of Africa, and proceeded to the assist¬
ance of their countrymen in Spain. The kingdom of Portu¬
gal was moreover conquered and founded by the crusad¬
ers ; and their expeditions first suggested the idea of cer¬
tain orders of chivalry, which, in imitation of those o
Palestine, were formed in Spain, and mainly contributed
to enable the people of that country to triumph over the
Moors. We may add, that Spain is the country where the
memory of the crusades was longest preserved. In the
course of last century there used to be published, every
year, in all the provinces, a bull called Crusada, which
solemn publication recalled to the Spanish nation the tri¬
umphs which their ancestors had gained over the Moorish
invaders of their country. . .
In thus surveying the condition of the principal coun¬
tries of Europe at the epoch of the crusades, it is impossi¬
ble not to be struck with the great diversity observable in
their manners, their institutions, and the destiny ot their
inhabitants. But still it is no easy task to follow and to
mark the progress of civilization in so many monarchies
and republics, some emerging in splendour from the o-
som of barbarism, and others falling back into decay an
ruin. Nor is it less difficult to detect the influence exe
cised by the crusades amidst so many revolutions, w
had often the same origin, though their effects were
ent and sometimes opposite. Nevertheless, tins i
was in all cases considerable, and in a few striking y ^ •
In France it favoured the growth of the monarchy ^
expense of a turbulent and powerful feudal aristoc J-
In England, it favoured the growth of liberty at t e
CRUSADES.
491
pense of an absolute monarchy. In Germany, it accele-
:mSa rated the decline of an empire with an elective head, and
*** depressed the aristocracy, whilst it encouraged the indus¬
try and enterprise of the towns, enabling them at the same
time to secure a sort of independence. In Italy, if it failed
to mitigate the political evils with which that country was
unhappily cursed, it gave a new stimulus to commerce and
navigation; enriched those mercantile republics which then
monopolized the trade of the East; and gradually paved
the way for discoveries which have since produced the most
striking effects on the destinies of mankind. And, lastly,
in Spain, it powerfully contributed to the deliverance of
the Peninsula from the yoke of the Saracens, and gave
rise to the institution of the Cortes, the emancipation of
the commonalty, the enfranchisement of the towns, and
other measures which signalized the decline of the feudal
system and of the absolute authority of the sovereign in
that country. Such were the more immediate political
results of the crusades. Let us now for an instant inquire
what effects they produced on the authority of the church,
and on the institutions and manners of the middle ages.
III. The situation of the popes in the middle ages pre¬
sents a singular spectacle. As sovereigns of Rome, they
had scarcely any authority, and were frequently exiled
from their own states ; as the heads of Christendom, they
exercised an absolute empire to the very extremities of the
world, and their name was revered wherever the gospel
was preached. Possessing this unlimited spiritual autho¬
rity, the popes obtained credit with some for originating
the crusades; but they who support such an opinion have
little knowledge of the general movement which then agi¬
tated the Christian world. No power on earth was capa¬
ble of producing so mighty and universal a commotion; it
belonged only to Him who raises and stills the tempest at
his pleasure to inspire of a sudden into the hearts of men
that enthusiasm which absorbed all other passions, and
hurried on vast multitudes as if impelled by an invisible
force. It has also been said that the crusades greatly in¬
creased the authority of the popes; and this is true, though
perhaps scarcely to the extent which some are willing to
believe. At first, indeed, the popes did not seem to be
aware of the advantages which they might derive from
these expeditions ; and, accordingly, it was not until the
second crusade that they became sensible of the ascend¬
ency which the holy see might exercise by means of the
efforts made for the conquest of the Holy Land. Latterly,
however, the crusades furnished the popes with a pretext
for usurping, in all the states of Europe, the principal pre¬
rogatives of the sovereign power. In name of the holy war,
they assumed the right of raising armies and levying im¬
posts ; their legates exercised supreme authority in all
the countries of Christendom ; the presence of these haugh-
I ty envoys inspired respect and fear; wherever they went
their will was law. Armed with the cross, they exacted
the most implicit obedience from the clergy; and as the
latter naturally possessed a very great ascendency over
the people, the empire of the popes knew neither limits nor
opposition. At the same time, the papal power received
but little increase in Asia during the holy wars; whilst
the quarrels and disorders which incessantly disturbed the
Christian colonies multiplied their embarrassments with¬
out adding to their power. Their voice was not always
listened to amidst the din of arms; and sometimes the
soldiers of the cross resisted the will and contemned the
counsels of the pontiffs. The legates of the holy see were
often at variance with the chiefs of the Christian armies,
and their character was not always respected in the midst
of camps; whilst, on the other hand, as the popes aspired
to direct the crusades, they were held in some sort respon-
i sible for misfortunes and disorders which they could not
prevent; and this responsibility, exposing them to be judged
with rigour, impaired their reputation for ability and saga-
city. By a gross abuse of the crusading spirit, the popes
also engaged in wars where ambition was more concerned
than religion ; they thought of their temporal when they
should have attended only to the interests of their spirit¬
ual dominion ; and in seeking to advance the one they ne¬
glected the other. The crusade against the Albigenses
was productive of no solid advantage to the papal autho¬
rity. The intolerance which occasioned that war may no
doubt be regarded as an emanation of the fierce spirit of
the time; but the Inquisition, which then took its rise,
awakened more passions than it repressed. The enormous
tributes imposed on the clergy also served to weaken the
papal authority, by the universal discontent which these
exactions produced. Tenths were raised not only for a
crusade, but for every attempt at a crusade, and not only
for the expeditions to the East, but for every enterprise
undertaken against the enemies of the court of Rome;
whilst the rigour with which the agents of the pontiffs col¬
lected the imposts, and the scandalous manner in which
they often misapplied the sums wrung from the faith¬
ful, excited the most lively indignation, and called forth
loud remonstrances. “ Rien ne fut plus funeste a 1’au-
torite pontificale (says Michaud) que ces plaintes qu’on
entendait de toutes parts, et dont s’arma enfin la redout-
able heresie de Luther.” In short, to quote the words
of the same author, “ la domination des papes alia tou-
jours s’accroissant pendant un siecle jusqua Innocent III. ;
elle alia ensuite en declinant pendant un autre siecle, jus-
qu’a Boniface VIII., epoque ou finissait les croisades d’ou-
tre-mer.”
2. Before the period of the crusades, the feudal system
had begun to exhibit some symptoms of decline. Found¬
ed on the basis of military colonization, the governments
of the middle ages may be compared to a victorious army
dispersed in a conquered country, having the territory
which it occupied parcelled out in certain definite propor¬
tions, and always ready at the signal of its officers or su¬
preme head to march against the common enemy, and to
defend its possessions. Hence, as long as discipline and
obedience subsisted in these colonies, public order was not
disturbed. But when tlm reciprocal relations of protection
and submission, service $and duties, became enfeebled—
when discipline relaxed, and the rigour of military law had
been insensibly mitigated—society then presented the spec¬
tacle of an army abandoned to license, Or freed in some
measure from the control of its chief or head; and every
successive abatement was so much withdrawn from the
strength and solidity of the fabric of feudalism, so much
added to the antagonist force which had already begun to
attack its foundations. Still, at the period of the crusades,
the ties of fidelity produced by the feudal relations were
so powerful that the preachers of these expeditions some¬
times invoked these in their exhortations; they preached
the duties of feudalism in concurrence with the precepts
of the gospel; and, to excite the Christian warriors to as¬
sume the cross, they called them the vassals of Jesus Christ.
The crusades, however, unquestionably exercised a salu¬
tary influence upon the spirit and manners of feudalism ;
they contributed to destroy, by exhausting, the ferocity
which that system had nurtured, as well as to eradicate
some of the grosser abuses which it had engendered; they
preserved, by stimulating and encouraging, the generous
sentiments which it had inspired; and they concurred in
developing whatever it contained that was favourable to
the progress of civilization. They opened a seasonable
and sufficient outlet for an overboiling spirit, which, if com¬
pressed, would have blown to pieces the whole fabric of
society; and, by their re-action, they favoured the growth
Crusades.
492
CRUSADES.
Crusades, and expansion of interests which became identified with
the cause of general improvement and of public order.
The whole of man was not yet known, and the idea of vir¬
tue was still in a great measure merged in that of mere
duty or obedience. But the crusades created a desire, or
we should rather say produced a necessity, for acquiring
personal distinction, in addition to that conferred by mere
rank or possessions; every man above the common herd
was compelled by ambition to illustrate his name with
some brilliant achievement; and even the meanest and
humblest individual became in some sort ennobled by the
performance of great actions. 1 his feeling belongs to a
rising civilization; it is the first indication of that spmt
which sooner or later issues in the intellectual, moial, and
political improvement of society.
3. The crusades were not altogether without Iruits even
to that class which, in the first instance, suffered most by
them ; we mean the nobility. Some acquired principalities
in the East; many of the cities of Greece and Syria were
erected into signories; and the military orders which were
then introduced afforded them some compensation for the
losses which they had sustained. A few, more fortunate
than the rest, ascended the thrones of David and of Con¬
stantine, and took their place among the great monarchs
of Christendom. All acquired distinction or renown ; and,
by means of sirnames and armorial bearings, which were
now introduced, their glory was emblazoned and preserved
in the achievements of their escutcheons. Ihe feudal
system declined apace, and the power of the great barons
was gradually but certainly yielding to the encroachments
of royalty on the one hand, and the inroads of public li¬
berty on the other. But the spirit of chivalry came in¬
stead of the colder and more repulsive principle of feudal¬
ism ; and if the nobility served the state in a new charac¬
ter, they still retained a predominant influence, and, in
fact, constituted the greater part of its defensive force.
4. The condition of the people was more slowly ame¬
liorated, and they long groaned under intolerable oppres¬
sions. The peasantry remained in a state of servitude or
villeinage, subject to the arbitrary jurisdiction of then
feudal lords, and without any law to protect them against
tyranny of the worst description. But the inhabitants of
the towns were more fortunate; and as the policy of princes
concurred with the advancement of their consequence,
they were early enabled to shake off the fetteis which
long weighed so heavily on the serfs of the plains, dhe
cities of Lombardy, and of a great part of Italy, were the
first to throw off the feudal yoke ; in Germany the towns
also became free, though at a later period; in England
the manifestation of the spirit of liberty dates from the
era of the crusades, prior to which the towns, with the
exception of London, which had obtained some privileges,
seem never to have once dreamed of independence; and
in Spain, the war against the Moors not only favoured the
rise of the commons, but secured them the protection of
institutions which guaranteed the enjoyment of a large
measure of freedom. The towns of the south of France
soon followed the example of those of Italy and Spain,
and obtained franchises which in time became consecrat¬
ed by usage as well as by positive laws. The liberty of
the towns commenced with corporations; because expe¬
rience had taught their inhabitants that they were only
strono- when united, and also because the conservation
of their privileges and franchises would otherwise have
been impossible. This emancipation of the commons,
however, was attended with very different results to the
great vassals and to the crown. It weakened the autho¬
rity of the barons and feudal lords, because the spirit of
liberty naturally turned against its more immediate and
dangerous enemies ; but it increased the royal authority,
because the cities which were either free, or expected to
become so, naturally turned towards the monarch, the ■ w
(les. j
  j . '
author of that boon, whose interest, in one important par-
ticular, was identical with their own. Hence we find
kings and princes placing themselves, as it were, at the
head of the general movement of society, and seeking to
establish order and to promote improvement because they
knew that they would thereby extend their power and in¬
crease their authority. The serfs of the plains, however,
groaned in subjection to tyranny long after the towns had
become free. From the crusades they derived little or no
direct advantage. They could not unite, likq the inhabit¬
ants of towns ; they were dispersed, and therefore feeble.
But a propitious impulse had been given, and the day of
deliverance at length arrived. Some cities in Germany
contributed to the freedom of the peasants of their terri-
tory; the same thing occurred in Italy and Spain; and
although in England the yoke of villeinage was worn for
a longer period, yet it was at length removed, and with it
the last external badge of feudal servitude.
5. The crusades have been reproached with having first
given the idea and introduced the practice of taxation.
The notion, however, is too simple in itself to make it ne¬
cessary to search so far back for its origin. But it is not
improbable that the mode in which the tenths were levied
for the holy wars served as a model to those who after¬
wards established regular contributions. Further, when
the feudal regime, which cost nothing, had been overturn¬
ed, it became necessary to provide for the expenses of a
new system of administration; and when the state could
no longer calculate on the defenders with which the te¬
nure of military service had supplied it, it was obliged to
seek for others, and of course to pay them for their ser¬
vices. Hence arose the necessity for stipendiary armies
and regular and permanent imposts. Other means, in¬
deed, were at first employed. The coin of the realm was
debased; the-Jews were persecuted; violence was em¬
ployed; justice was sold. But all these resources, which
tended at once to corrupt the government and the nation,
were soon exhausted, and none other than that of taxa¬
tion remained. With regard to regular armies, again,
there can be no doubt whatever that the first idea ol
these was suggested by the expeditions to Palestine and
other countries of the East. Ihese distant and protract¬
ed enterprises changed the conditions of the feudal ser¬
vice, and accustomed men to see permanent armies, sup¬
ported and commanded by princes.
6. Chivalry was known in the West before the era of
the crusades. But these wars, which appeared to have
the same object as chivalry, namely, that of defending the
oppressed, serving the cause of God, and combating the
Infidels, imparted to; this institution greater lustre and
consistence, and gave it a direction at once more exten¬
sive and more salutary. On this important branch of the
subject, however, it is only necessary here to refer to the
article Chivalry in this work, which contains a clear,
eloquent, and masterly exposition of the more prominent
features of that extraordinary institution, and, in particu¬
lar, explains the changes and modifications which it un¬
derwent in consequence of the memorable expeditions ot
which we are treating. When the institution of chivalry
fell by the abuse which had been made of it, and parti¬
cularly in consequence of the changes which had taken
place in the military system of Europe, there still remain¬
ed in the mind of society some of the sentiments which it
had inspired ; in the same manner as there remains with
those who have forgotten the religion in which they were
born, something of its precepts, and especially of the im¬
pressions which they had received in their infancy, n ie
time of chivalry, the price of good actions was glory ana
, honour; and this coin, which is so useful to nations, yet
j costs them nothing, did not fail to possess some curren¬
cy in the ages which followed. Such is the effect of a
glorious recollection, that the marks and distinctions of
chivalry still serve as the most appropriate and enviable
recompense of bravery and merit. Seeing, then, that the
crusades added some lustre and gave some ascendency to
an institution which formed, as it were, a barrier against
license and barbarism, it must be admitted that these ex¬
peditions, however wild in themselves, have, in this re¬
spect at least, conferred a real service on humanity.
IV. Having thus viewed the crusades in connection
with the effects which they are supposed to have produ¬
ced on the condition of different classes of society, and
having traced to the same source the origin of several of
our institutions, it now only remains to advert shortly to
the progress which was made, during the same period, in
navigation, commerce, industry, the sciences, arts, letters,
and useful knowledge.
1. Before the twelfth century, the seas of Europe and
Asia, with the exception of the Mediterranean, were scarce¬
ly frequented by the nations who occupied their shores.
At the commencement of the crusades, France had only
two or three ports on the coast of Normandy, and not one
either in the Atlantic or the Mediterranean, till the seventh
crusade, when Louis XI. caused that of Aigues-Mortes to
be constructed. England had not made greater advances ;
and the trifling navigation of that age was carried on by
some towns on the coasts of the Baltic, in Holland, Flan¬
ders, and Spain. But when the crusades commenced, the
spirit of devotion uniting with that of commerce, gave a
new and more extended scope as well as impulse to the
enterprises of navigators. The inhabitants of Denmark
appeared in the seas of Syria ; and the Norwegians, who
!had arrived in ships, assisted at the capture of Sidon. At
the siege of Ptolemais were found citizens of Lubeck and
Bremen ; and from all the coasts of the West sailed vessels
and even fleets to transport pilgrims, provisions, and arms,
into the kingdom of Jerusalem and the other principalities
in Asia founded by the arms of the crusaders. Thus the
navigators of all countries were met in the seas of the
East; and, under the auspices of the cross, commercial
relations began to be established between the maritime
states of Europe. At the commencement of the twelfth
century, a fleet of Pisans, united with some other Italians,
assisted the Aragonese in conquering the Balearic Isles ;
and the navigators of Italy thus extended their knowledge
of the shores of Spain, with which they had previously
been so little acquainted that they mistook the coasts of
Aragon for the country of the Moors. Having gained ex¬
perience in distant voyages, the navigators of Lubeck, Bre¬
men, and Denmark also explored the hitherto unknown
coasts of the Baltic;—a communication was established be¬
tween the Baltic, the Mediterranean, the Spanish Ocean,
and the seas of the North ;—a spirit of emulation and
enterprise united different nations in pursuit of the same
advantages;—and nautical science received important ac¬
cessions in almost all its branches. The configuration
ot coasts, and the position of capes, harbours, bays, islands,
and headlands was determined ; seas were explored to
their furthest extremities ; the direction of winds, of cur¬
rents, and of tides, was observed ; and various points in
hydrography were likewise settled with tolerable precision.
Lastly, the discovery of the compass, which had been
raade about this time, although it did not come into gene-
>al use until a subsequent period, enabled those naviga¬
tors who had obtained possession of the secret, to embark
*n more adventurous voyages, and to brave the terrors of
t ie ocean. Naval architecture was also improved during
t 'e crusades. The construction of vessels was rendered
more solid, at the same time that their size was increased; Crusades,
and they were for the first time provided with several masts,
in order to multiply their sails, and enable them to shape
a course upon a wind. To guard the interests and pro¬
tect the freedom of navigation, a code of maritime law
was likewise framed, upon the model which had been fur¬
nished by the nautical sages of Barcelona about the be-
ginning of the twelfth century. In an assembly held at
St Sophia, in 1255, the Venetians adopted the code en¬
titled Consulat de la Mer, which was afterwards recognis¬
ed by the Pisans and the Genoese, and became the com¬
mon law of the seas of the East; whilst another code, first
published by Eleonore de Guyenne, and afterwards by
Richard Cceur de Lion, under the title of Roles d'Oleron,
obtained the assent of several maritime states, and was at
length accredited in all the seas of the West. Protected
by this legislation, navigators reaped the fruits of their
lengthened enterprises, and were soon enabled to dispute
the empire of the Mediterranean with the Infidels. Indeed,
if Italy and several countries of the West were not sub¬
jugated by the Saracens, they owed their safety more to
the superiority of their fleets than to that of their armies.
In short it is more than probable that, without the cru¬
sades, the genius of navigators would not, till a much later
period, have enabled them to traverse the immense space
which separates the Baltic from the Mediterranean and
the Indian Ocean, or to shoot across the mighty waste of
waters interposed between the Old and the New World.
2. Every climate has its peculiar productions; and this
diversity of wealth naturally leads to interchange or com¬
merce, which in time establishes communications between
the most distant regions. In the middle ages, the indolent
and effeminate Greeks neglected to import into the West
the merchandise of Asia; and the Saracens landed on the
coasts of Europe only to subject them to the scourge of
war. But the commercial enterprise of the West sought
out those products which had ceased to be imported; and
the frequent voyages to the East were altogether to the
advantage of the Occidentals. Before the period of the
crusades, the merchandise of Asia had arrived in Europe,
sometimes by the overland route, traversing the Greek
empire, Hungary, and Bulgaria; more frequently by way
of the Mediterranean, which may be said to abut, as it
were, on all the ports of Italy. Both these routes were
rendered easy by the holy wars ; and then commerce, pro¬
tected by the standard of the cross, advanced with rapid
strides. Most of the maritime towns of the West enriched
themselves by supplying Europe with the productions of
the East; and they also derived considerable advantages
from the transport of pilgrims and of the Christian armies.
Fleets hovered around the coasts where the crusaders
fought, supplying them with munitions of war and provi¬
sions ; and thus commerce brought back to Europe part
of the treasures which had been carried into Asia by the
princes and barons who had ruined themselves in order to
provide the necessary means for combating the infidels.
In fact, all the riches of the maritime towns of Syria, and
even of Greece, belonged to the merchants of the West.
They were masters of the greater part of the Christian
cities of Asia; they possessed all the islands of the Ar¬
chipelago; for a time, they ruled in Constantinople ; and
the Greek empire was almost another Venice, with its
laws, its fleets, and its armies. The Latins, however, were
not long masters of Constantinople, Jerusalem, and most
of the countries conquered by their arms. But commerce,
more fortunate than war, persevered in its conquests after
the crusades. The city of Tana, built at the mouth of the
Tanais, became to Venice a colony which opened useful
relations with Persia, Tartary, Tauris, Trebizond, Bagdad,
and Bassora; whilst the Genoese, established in the small
494
CRUSADES.
c™saae, town of Caffa, in the Crimea explored the nhnes of the ^ ^ S;
Caucasus, and rece.ved the treasures of India by way of animals pec ■
Astracan. But several of the great kingdoms ot Europe
had as yet but little share in this commerce, which still
continued in the hands of a few maritime towns. England
had nothing but her wool to give in exchange for the mer¬
chandise of Asia, imported by Spanish and Italian mer¬
chants. The towns of France, excepting Marseilles, had
little share in the trade of the East. Italy, from her posi¬
tion, which commands the Mediterranean, enjoyed almost
exclusively this advantage, and became the grand empo¬
rium of a traffic as extensive as it was profitable; sending
into all parts of Europe, not legions and proconsuls like
Rome in the days of its greatness, but caravans of mer¬
chants, who subjected the ^ ‘? aSsed6 bv their far, profited much by the classical masterpieces of Greece,
calculations and wants of comme , . £ , ’ i ^ tue which served as models; whilst the wealth acquired by
industry, ot all the money w uc ^ commerce enabled the inhabitants to indulge their taste
for the embellishment of their cities. With the excep¬
tion of architecture, however, the fine arts owed little to
the frequent intercourse with the East. Painting was
despised by the MosleminS, who were forbidden by the
Koran to make any image of man or beast; and the La¬
tins, after the capture of Constantinople, destroyed the
greater part of the monuments erected by the genius of
4. Architecture was also greatly improved. The sight
of the monuments and superb edifices of the East excited
wonder, and awakened a spirit of emulation. Nothing
could equal the astonishment of the crusaders when they
first beheld the city of Constantine. Foucher de Chartres
exclaimed in his enthusiasm, “ Oh, que Constantinople
est une belle et vaste citeand the French knights, on
viewing the magnificent towers and superb palaces of By-
zantium, could scarcely persuade themselves, “ que si
riche ville pust etre en tout le monde.” These no doubt
were the feelings produced by novelty and surprise; but
they soon gave place to a desire to imitate the fabrics
which had excited so much admiration. Italy, in particu-
West In a word, Europe has scarcely a great city where
the name of Lombard affixed to some street or quarter
does not to this day attest the long residence of the Ita¬
lian merchants. „. . ,
3 It is not easy to separate the progress of industry, or
even of agriculture, from that of commerce. In order to
ascertain, however, what each gained by the relations with
the East, it is necessary to attend to the state of these two
r. ■». i   ^.1 of fVio nf t hp.
sculpture, converting into coin some of the masterpieces
of Phidias and Praxiteles. The Orientals had no music,
and Greece had long lost the secret of those melodious
strains which, in the time of Linus and Orpheus, were
fabled to have tamed savage beasts, charmed Rhodope,
and led captive the woods of Maenalus. The history of
this art, therefore, has but little relation to the holy wars.
5. The science which derived most improvement from
these distant expeditions was unquestionably that of geo¬
graphy. Before the crusades, this science was altogether
unknown. Countries the least remote had no communica¬
tion with one another. Burgundy was scarcely known in
Paris, or Paris in Burgundy. The crusaders who follow¬
ed Peter the Hermit were ignorant of the names of the
towns which they passed through in Germany and Hun¬
gary. They experienced a defeat at Merseburg; but the
contemporary chroniclers, unacquainted with the name of
the place, content themselves with calling it Mallevilk, or
the city of misfortune. But if the Franks scarcely knew
their own country, what must have been their ignorance
of the countries of the East ? It was so great indeed that
they were under the necessity of hiring guides among the
Greeks, whom they distrusted, and of committing the fate
of expeditions to conductors by whom they were often de¬
ceived and abandoned. Several armies, in fact, perished
from not knowing' the places to which they were conduct¬
ed by victory. The greater part of the chroniclers were
as ignorant as the crusaders; and hence it is difficult to
follow their details respecting Asia Minor, Egypt, and
face'of Montferrat'sent maize and wheat from Turkey to Syria. Of more than two S
Italy; the plum of Damascus was imported by a duke of not one makes the least men Palestine and who
Anjou, who had visited Jerusalem; our gardens owe to of Vitry, who had sojourned *wled of’his time,
the holy wars the ranunculus, so dear to the Orientals, and appears to ha.ve Poss®®s! , , E t th| fabies 0f the
the echallotes, which derive their name from Askalon; repeats, in ^ description o > ■ ^Memires,
and the knowledge or rather the nse of saffron, of alum, Amazons and the Phcemx.^
and of indigo, is also due to the crusades. In the tern- tells us gravely that the trees ot t P ^
tory of Tripoli in Syria, the crusaders beheld, for the first produced cinnamon, ginger, and ^ ^ to which
time, the sugar cane, which was transported to Sicily about spices were fished out of the wate h cruSaders,
the middle of the twelfth century, and thence passed into they wenj carried by the wmds. In a wdornd’^eerCtime nor
other countries. It was transferred by the Spaniards to contmuallyoccupmdwithfight g’ d^d b theirarnis.
Madeira, whence it is supposed to have been carried, at a inclination to study the.^u“tdf^J) cuided, the one
subsequent period, to the New World. Natural history, But m their train a*d f0™. h ^ by the hope
which is connected with the progress of industry and agri- by a desire to spread the gospel, and
culture, was enriched with some useful discoveries during of amassing riches, opened some new ,
the crusades. The productions of distant climates were much useful information respecting the La^t.
LUC it- j   . j n
sources of wealth among the Orientals at the period of the
crusades. Before this time the Saracens had manufac¬
tures of various stuffs, such as silk, woollen, and linen. t
Damascus and in the towns of Egypt they worked in me¬
tals with greater perfection than in the West. I he Gnns-
tians of Palestine often went to Damascus to purchase
arms. At Tripoli in Syria, camlets were manufactured;
and, in the same town, as well as in several of the cities
of Greece, there were a great number of trades connected
with the preparation and manufacture of silk. All this
could not escape the observation of the merchants and pil¬
grims who visited the East. We find, in fact, that, about
the middle of the twelfth century, Roger II. king of Sicily,
caused several of these artisans to be brought over to
Palermo; that this was the result of an expedition to the
coasts of Greece; that the mulberry tree throve in the fine
climate of Italy as well as in that of the Morea; and that
the Sicilians soon surpassed the Greeks in this valuable
species of industry. Several useful inventions were also
derived from the East; among which wind-mills' have
been mentioned. Tyre was then renowned for its glass
ware, which the fine sand in the neighbourhood enabled
its workmen to bring to a degree of perfection unknown
in other countries; and to this place the Venetians were
indebted for instruction in an art in which they afterwards
greatly excelled. It is probable, also, that the Greek file
suggested the idea of gunpowder, and ultimately led to
the important invention which has immortalized the name
of Berthold Schwartz. During the fourth crusade, Boni-
CRUSADES.
495
aries sent out by the court of Rome also traversed the
most extensive regions of Asia; and the relations of Ru-
bruquis, Asselin, Carpin, and Marco Paolo contain observa¬
tions, the truth and accuracy of which have since been fully
confirmed. At the same time, the geographical charts of
this period exhibit neither the configuration of the globe,
nor the extent of countries, nor the position and boun¬
daries of states; they are limited merely to tracing, by
vao'ue designations, what struck the majority of travellers,
as°for example, the curiosities of each country, animals,
edifices, and men differently dressed. Maps were equally
rude. They wanted the four cardinal points, whilst on
the four sides were sometimes inscribed the names of the
principal winds; Jerusalem was placed in the centre of
the three parts of the known world, and around it were
^rouped the cities of Palestine, Syria, and Egypt, whilst
distances were marked without the least regard to accu-
iracy. In short, geography was still in its infancy; but,
from the impulse given by the crusades, it soon made con¬
siderable progress; and, in the fourteenth century, the
countries of the East were much better known.
If the crusaders had profited by the knowledge of the
Orientals, some of the sciences most useful to man, such
as medicine, might also have been improved. In medicine
particularly the Arabians had more positive knowledge
than the Latins. At the siege of Ptolemais, Saladin sent
his physicians to Richard ; but we do not learn that Richard
sent his to Saladin when the soldan fell sick. In the first
crusade of St Louis, the physicians who accompanied the
army understood nothing of the ravages which scurvy and
the ordinary epidemic diseases committed in the Christian
camp; and their ignorance was not less fatal than the con¬
tagion. Nevertheless, the East furnished some processes
and remedies from which medicine long derived very great
advantage. Cassia and senna came from Asia, and were
known in the West at the epoch of the crusades. Treacle,
which had so distinguished a place assigned it in the me¬
dicine of the middle ages, was brought from Antioch to
Venice. And Robert of Normandy, returning from the
Holy Land after the capture of Jerusalem, obtained from
the school of Salerno a collection of those precepts of
health which have since become proverbs amongst all the
nations of Europe. Nevertheless, the discoveries and the
knowledge of the Orientals in the healing art served in no
material degree to enlighten the West; and it may with
truth be said that more new diseases than new reme¬
dies were imported from the East during the holy wars.
Amongst these may be mentioned numerous leprosies,
which, for a considerable time, committed great ravages,
and at length disappeared, without the aid of medicine.
6. The crusades contributed in several ways to advance
the cause of learning. They established relations, which
i were never wholly interrupted, between the cities of Italy
and the empire of Byzantium ; and some sparks of the ge¬
nius of the Greeks irradiated Italy even before the taking of
Constantinople by the Turks. A college of young Greeks
was established at Paris during the reign of Philip Augus¬
tus ; and, in the thirteenth century, flourished the Univer¬
sities of Bologna, Paris, and Salamanca, where the Greek
tongue was taught, and latterly the Oriental languages,
I conformably to a decree of the council of Vienna. When
the Turks became masters of Constantinople, the learned,
! exiled from their own country, established themselves in
! Italy, where the Greek were, so to speak, married to the
Latin muses. The venerable interpreters of antiquity
were everywhere cordially received, and the communica¬
tion of their knowledge repaid the attentions of a generous
hospitality. About the same time printing was discovered,
and employed to preserve the literary treasures derived
from the East against the accidents of time, the fury of
war, or the hand of barbarism. The Iliad and the Odyrs- Crusades,
sey found readers in the scenes which had inspired the
vEneid; the orations of Demosthenes were perused amidst
the ruins of the forum, where still lingered the echo of
the voice of Cicero; the genius of the Italians, inspired
by the great works of ancient Greek and Roman art, pro¬
duced new masterpieces; and Italy presented a pheno¬
menon which the world will never again perhaps behold,
—that of a nation which, in the space of a few centuries,
had twice obtained the palm of literature in two different
languages. It is to Constantinople that we are indebted
for the philosophy of Aristotle; but whether or not the
friends of real knowledge ought to felicitate themselves
on this boon seems exceedingly doubtful. Aristotle had
disciples, partisans, even martyrs; and the authority of the
Bible itself could scarcely compete with that of the philo¬
sopher of Stagyra. Reason was studied, not in the mind
of man, but in the dogmas laid down in a book ; and the
laws of the universe were not investigated by induction,
but sought for in Aristotle. The schools also exhibited a
species of intellectual fencing or gladiatorship. In an age
when every thing was decided by violence, the mind even
desired to indulge in a species of warfare; and as, in or¬
dinary affairs, victory constituted justice, so, in the schools,
it passed for reason. It may be supposed that this dispu¬
tatious philosophy was little favourable to the advance¬
ment of real knowledge; but, on the other hand, whilst it
exercised the faculties of men, it contributed to their de¬
velopment ; and if it for a season misdirected the human
mind, it certainly did not retard its advancement. In the
early stages of society, it is not the misdirection of the
mind, but its inactivity, which tends to keep nations in
the darkness of barbarism.
7. Among the productions of the human mind, the first
place is due to those which have for their object to pre¬
serve the memory of past events. In all the epochs of
the middle ages, there appeared chronicles in which facts
of importance to history were recorded, with greater or less
fidelity. In several monasteries there were kept registers
or journals, in which every remarkable occurrence was in¬
scribed ; and the monks sometimes communicated these
registers at their general assemblies, in the view of ren¬
dering their chronicles more complete. The old chro¬
niclers were simple and pious men, who regarded the
slightest falsehood as a mortal sin, and sometimes scru¬
pled to tell the truth, even when they knew it, if a shadow
of doubt crossed their minds* The greater part would
have thought themselves wanting in their duties as histo¬
rians, if they had not ascended to the creation of the world,
or at least to the deluge. Amongst the events which they
relate, they never forget those wdiich are calculated to
strike the vulgar, and which indeed made a strong im¬
pression upon themselves, such as revolutions of nature,
famines, and prodigies. But we are at the same time
sensibly touched by their simplicity, and interested by
their naivete; and when they speak of marvellous occur¬
rences, which were believed in their time, and of the rea¬
lity of which they themselves seem fully persuaded, they
only delineate their own character, and that of the age in
which they lived. Further, it wpuld be a great error to
imagine that the Oriental chronicles of the same period
are in any degree superior to those which we have been
endeavouring to describe. On the contrary, they exhibit
the same spirit of superstition and credulity which appears
in the chronicles of the West, united with that belief in
fatalism which characterizes the Mahommedan religion,
and with a degree of negligence or caution which deprives
these productions of all individual interest. The chroni¬
cles of the middle ages, therefore, have nothing to envy
in those of the East. The greater part, it is true, are ex-
496
Crusca.
C XI u
tremely dry, and destitute alike of precision and method ;
but there ave several which appear to be not altogether
unworthy of the attention of historians. Among these
may be mentioned William of Tyre, who may be styled the
Livy of the crusades ; Albert of Aix ; Baudry, archbishop
of Dol; Odon of Deuil; James of Vitry, whose lively and
animated descriptions are clothed in a style at once rapid
and flowery, and whose narrative is almost always elegant;
and, lastly, Ville-Hardouin and Joinville, who wrote in the
French language, and whose works constitute the earliest
monuments of French literature.
8. The muse of the troubadours celebrated chivalry, love,
and beauty ; that of the trouveurs, who inhabited the
banks of the Loire, and the provinces situated beyond
that river, delighted in graver strains. The trouveurs had
rivals both in England and in Germany. Those poets had
created for themselves a new and heroic world, which in¬
spired their lofty lays. They celebrated the high feats of
Arthur, Renaud, the knights of the round table, Charle¬
magne, Rolland, and the twelve peers of trance; and to
these names they added those of Godefroy, Fancred, Rich¬
ard, and Saladin, whose names possessed a lively interest
for all the Christian nations of the middle ages. But these
chivalric strains soon gave place to wilder and bolder cre¬
ations, into which the marvellous entered as a predomi¬
nant ingredient. The traditions of the North were blend¬
ed with those of the' South, and produced a semi-barbarous
mythology, which, in its composite form, had nothing in
common with the gay and gorgeous mythology of Greece.
But the labours, the perils, and the exploits of a religious
war, carried on at a great distance, like that of the ciu-
sades, gave a nobler direction to the imagination of poets,
and effectually guarded them against whatever was com¬
mon or extravagant in the romanesque conceptions of a
rude age. Hence arose a literature adapted to a new
state of society: and if this literature, which had impressed
upon it a strong character of national originality, had pro¬
duced such masterpieces as the Iliad and the Odyssey, the
muses would have entered upon a career unknown to the
ancients ; the language would have been enriched, improv¬
ed, and fixed ; and history would have spoken of the age of
the crusades as it now speaks of that of I ericles and Au¬
gustus. But the greater part of the poets and romancers
of this epoch, having no models upon which to form them¬
selves, and wanting the taste necessary to guide them,
could discover no other means of interesting their readers,
than by exaggerating tlie sentiments of chivalry.. Imita¬
tion, pushed to the extreme, was mistaken for reality ; and
there were knights, like the hero of Cervantes, who wished
to put in practice what they had read in poems and roman¬
ces. This was the origin of knight-errantry; a practical
caricature of chivalry, which, by bringing it into contempt,
exposed it to ridicule, and thus sealed the doom of an in¬
stitution which, with all its follies, absurdities, and vices,
has conferred essential benefits upon mankind. The ro¬
mances which were consecrated to -chivalry and the cru¬
sades, underwent modifications conformable to those which
the manners and usages of society had received ; and lite¬
rature took its tone from the spirit of the time, and in its
C R U
turn re-acted upon the state of society which had originally (
imparted to it its peculiar direction and character. ^
Little more remains to be said as to the results of'tl)e p
crusades. To appreciate the advantages which they pro-
duced, it is only necessary to consider what would in all
probability have occurred if these expeditions had not
taken place. In the eleventh century several countries ,
of Europe were invaded, and others were menaced by the
Saracens. That remarkable race were then in the full j
career of victory and conquest; while the Christian states,
distracted by discord, a prey to anarchy, and plunged in j
barbarism, were destitute of all means of defence. If, then, |
Christendom had not, as it were, gone out by all her gates
to attack this formidable enemy, and, at different times, I
poured forth fresh multitudes of assailants, impelled by a j
fierce enthusiasm, this enemy, profiting by the inaction of
the Christian nations, would have surprised them in the
midst of their divisions, and subjugated them one after
another to its sway. France, Germany, England, and
Italy, might have experienced the fate of Greece and of |
Palestine, and the crescent might have been elevated in
triumph above the shivered fragments of the cross. The |
crusades, as we have already remarked, presented the
spectacle of a fierce and sanguinary contest between two
religions contending for the empire of the world. But in
this formidable struggle, the real means of defence con- 1
sisted in superiority of knowledge, civilization, and social
qualities. As long as ignorance and barbarism prevailed
among the nations of the West, as well as among those of
Asia, the victory remained uncertain; but when Europe
beheld the dawn of civilization, it then knew security, and
its enemies also began to know fear. The Mahommedan (
religion, by its doctrine of fatalism, taught its disciples to
despise the calculations of prudence, and in the day of
calamity served to depress rather than to elevate the cou¬
rage of its warriors. The Christians, on the contrary, lost
none of their faculties in their reverses, which often served
to redouble their energy and their activity ; and the defeats
experienced by their armies in Asia excited, even more
than their victories, the enthusiasm of the warlike popula¬
tion of Europe. Thus Christianity, and the heroic virtues
with which it inspired its disciples in the middle ages, serv¬
ed as an impenetrable buckler to Europe, enabling it to
force back the invaders who had long threatened its inde¬
pendence, and to inflict a blow on their power, from which
it never afterwards recovered. “ On ne peut done nier,”
says Michaud, “ que les croisades n’aient puissament con-
tribue a sauver les societes Europeennes de Tinvasion des
barbares, et ce fut la sans doute le premier et le plus grand
de tous les avantages qu’en ait retire Thumanite.”
Gibbon, History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman
Empire; Voltaire, Histoire Generale; EncyclopedicouDk-
tionaire raisonne des Sciences, art. Croisades ; Hercen and
Choiseul d’Aillecourt, Memoires sur les Croisades; Main-
bourg, Histoire des Croisades; Esprit des Croisades ; Mills,
History of Chivalry ; Helyot, Histoire des Ordres Mom-
tiques; Jacques de Vitry, Chroniquedes Croisades; Fievee,
Des Interets et des Opinions; Memoirepour servir a nouvelle
Histoire de Louis XII. ; Michaud, Histoire des Croisades.
CRUSCA, an Italian term signifying bran, was em¬
ployed to denote that celebrated academy called Della
Crusca, established at Florence for purifying and per¬
fecting the Tuscan language. The academy took its name
from its office, and the end proposed by it, which is to re¬
fine the language, and as it were to separate the chaff from
the wheat. Accordingly, its device is a sieve; and its
motto II piu bel fior ne coglie, it gathers the finest flour.
In the hall or apartment where the academy met, every
thing bore an allusion to the name and device; the seats
were in form of a baker’s basket; their backs were h e a
shovel for moving corn; the cushions were of gray satin, m
the form of sacks or wallets; and the branches where t ie
lights were placed resembled sacks. The vocabulary a
Crusca is an Italian dictionary, composed by this aca¬
demy.
497
CEUSTACEA.
, The subjects of the animal kingdom to which, in this
' article, we propose to direct the attention of our readers,
were considered as related to Insects by the authors of
the most popular systems of zoology of recent times. In
common life they are confounded with animals of a very
different character, under the general denomination of
Shell-fish, and are familiarly known by particular names,
as crabs, lobsters, shrimps, and prawns.
The ancients, in their contemplation of shell-fish, deno¬
minated such as were furnished with true shells, Offrpuxo-
ty/iu, or testacea, whilst such as were covered with a soft¬
er crust were termed /AuXor/.offTgux.u, or Crustacea. The for¬
mer group comprehends those molluscous animals which
are usually described in our systems of conchology (see
the article Mollusca of this work), whilst the latter will
form the subject of the following remarks.
The Crustacea belong to that extensive division of An-
MM/ose animals which have been denominated Condylopoda,
on account of the regularly jointed structure of their limbs'
and which also includes spiders, insects, and millepeds.
They differ, however, in many respects from the three
last groups, especially in the greater perfection of their
circulating system, and by the adaptation of their respira¬
tory organs to water or damp air. The true character of
the differences will be rendered more obvious while we
unfold the physiology of the Crustacea, preparatory to a
few remarks on their systematical arrangement.
CHAPTER I.
PHYSIOLOGY OF THE CRUSTACEA.
Crustaceous animals exhibit various modifications of
head, body, and tail. The head bears the antenna?, the
eyes, and the mouth, while the body and tail support the
organs of locomotion and respiration. The body, above,
is usually protected by a thorax or shield, marked with
grooves or eminences corresponding to the position inter¬
nally of the more important organs. These parts have
been denominated regions, with annexed terms indicative
of the organs which they covjer. Thus the stomachal re¬
gion is situate in the middle of the shield, and immediate¬
ly behind the eyes, and is followed towards the centre of
the shield by the genital region, to which succeeds the
cardial region.. Between the cardial region and the junc¬
tion of the shield with the tail is the posterior hepatic re¬
gion, i\\Q anterior hepatic region being situate on each side
of the stomachal one. The branchial regions extend on
each side from the genital and cardial regions to the mar¬
gins of the shield. These distinctions, which were sug¬
gested by the craniological speculations of Gall, are of
some value in the discrimination of nearly allied species,
and have been successfully employed by the industrious
esmarest in illustrating the character of such as occur
m a.fossll state, and which in general have their members
mutilated or bruised.
SECT. I. EXTERNAL COVERING.
The covering of crustaceous animals may be considered
as composed of a cuticle, a crust or scale containing much
rtny matter, and a thin membrane representing the true
in o the vertebral animals. The cuticle in some cases
extremely thin, while in others it is developed into pro-
"VOL. vii. r
minent hairs and other similar appendages. The crust Crustacea
contains, besides the animal matter which forms its basis,
and which in the lobster constitutes about a fourth of the
whole, the carbonates and phosphates of lime, the former
occurring to the amount of sixty per cent, the latter to
fourteen per cent, in the animal referred to. The flexible
laminated matter of the crust remaining and retaining its
form after the earthy salts have been dissolved by acidu¬
lated water, has been shown by M. Odier to consist chiefly
of Chitine, a substance which constitutes the basis of
the elytra of insects, and which differs from gelatine and
coagulated albumen in its insolubility in boiling water or
caustic potash.
The crusts of crabs and lobsters, though they exhibit
various tints of colours when the animals are alive, or not
acted upon by heat, yet after death they are suddenly
changed to a red colour when subjected to the action of
boiling water. This change appears to take place in con¬
sequence of the decomposition of a substance, which leaves
in a free state a red coloured oil, which, though insoluble
in cold or boiling water, is soluble in cold alcohol and sul¬
phuric ether. Besides these singular ingredients in the
crust, M. Chevreul has detected the presence of iodine.
The moulting of the Crustacea, or the casting of their
skins, takes place at seasons of the yrear differing some¬
what according to the species. During this period of
their weakness, when their crusts are yet-soft, and inca¬
pable of yielding the requisite protection which in a ma¬
ture state they afford, these animals become the prey of
their numerous foes. The evil is in part guarded against by
their retirement to places of shelter and concealment. In
their moulting state we have taken half a dozen of the
Lithodes maia from the stomach of a codfish, a place to
which they would not have been conveyed had then-
crusts acquired their mature hardness.
SECT. II.—ORGANS OF MOTION.
The residence to which the Crustacea are in a great
measure restricted, confines their motions to swimming,
walking, and leaping. For the purpose of executing the
first of these motions, the feet are constructed with flat¬
tened joints, which present a considerable surface of re¬
sistance to the surrounding medium ; and their expanse is
greatly enlarged by the fringe of stiff hairs by which they
are in general surrounded, as in Portunus puher, figured
in Plate CLXXX. The gravity of their bodies being con¬
siderably greater than the surrounding medium, their sus¬
pension and motion in the water can only be effected by
the active use of their limbs, while their progress is usually
irregular. In walking, the Crustacea, in general, advance
sidewise, owing to the motions of the limbs being perpen¬
dicular to the mesial plane, instead of parallel to its di¬
rection, as in many other animals. Their progress, even
laterally, is irregular and constrained. Indeed they ap¬
pear better adapted to move over an uneven surface, by
a process resembling climbing, than by ordinary walking.
I hey mount with ease along the leaves of the sea-weeds,
and the stems of the zoophytes, in search of their prey.
When pursued by their foes, or even in the execution of
their ordinary purposes, many species are capable of leaping
with considerable facility. This kind of motion they effect
by suddenly unbending their tail or abdomen. In swim¬
ming they not unfrequently combine in their progress the
leap with the employment of the feet as oars. In some
3 R
m
^qg xt/ ^ j. -l*. ^ —
Crustacea, species thekind of progressive motion is confined to walking cords preserve a tendency to approximate throughout theirc^
'—or climbing, in others the motion is exclusively natntory. w “ ^ j. ^ of the nervous system in the Crustacea '
The limbs of the Crustacea consist ot the five f° S . exhibited in the Edriophthalma, or such as have sessile
parts : The hip is the medium of ^r.tl^ulatl®n . th‘e es Among these animals the two cords of the nervous
the limb and the body, and is divided into J^o par , ^ em as Talitrus, in proceeding from the brain, do
coxa next the body, and the trochanter artmulat g ^ coalesce at any point, but form their ganglia sepa-
the thigh. These two joints are usually short, an X symmetrically, and in pairs. Though this modifi.
equal in size. The thigh ax femur is usually t g ti a’ 0f tile nervous cords be so different from that which
and the thickest of all the joints in the hmb. ^ % ov group> in the tendency of these cords
tibia, though shorter than the thigh, freque y ^ P separate, there appears in Idotea and other genera
in dimensions, especially in length, the a tencfency in each cord to become accumulated or con-
EotaVordaT1 WheuThe3 cbw ^unguis is^laced on denscd towards the middle of its ordinary course, as in the
the extremity, or as a continuation of the tarsus, a common cra^ of the nervous system, occurring in
leg is formed; but when daced iaterally^ so a the Entomostraca, the development is imperfect. In some
and act in opposition to the extremity ^ ^ the o ^ ^ ^ of i ^ transparent globule)
performs the function of a thumb, and the h ‘ the medullary cord double, with an enlargement at each
have pincers, or to be didactylc. tiirnw nff their of the numerous articulations of the body. In others the
The facility with which the Crustacea can tow off‘hem ot Uie nu^ ^ though distj„ct, gives rise to fila-
hmbs when they are future at which ments which, fhough representing the two cords, scarce!,
tracted the notice of the cun . inoo hv hWdine- swell into ganglia in their course.
the parting takes place sustains but little i Th ® ol'il,c Crustacea are either compound or simple,
and'is soon able to exercise its reproductive fun««im. are se!si]e in 0„e group, and little
The new-formed limb, however, is sina c, f ,h e|evated above the common integuments. In another they
sions, though consisting of the same number of [*rts> eatremity of a moveable peduncle, differing
the one thrown off; and it is not till after several moult- occupy tlie ex remuy y In al lha
ings that the new limb acqu res its ^^s/re two in nSer,"! some clses four, and in a few
repairing powder can more easily icnew a whole instances they seem to unite in one spot. The compound
an individual joint, and is incapable of repairn and simple ejes occur in different animals, though in other
or mutilated one. When the annual moulting of thecrua- ^ W individual both kinds of eyes exist,
tacea is taken into consideration, this renfevmg pioce c of hearing among the Crustacea generallymay
the limbs will excite less surprise though d still d splays measure obliterated. Among
a striking feature in the economy of tl'es^a™f ’ t] ^he decapodous podophthalma, however, distinct traces of
order to save their bodies from capture by then foes, y P ^ ^^gd in a perforated cavity, situate
can cast off so readily the claws or legs which have been ^1^SeenbSaeg^n^ eacb of the exterior tentacula, filled vvith
seized. a watery fluid, and supplied with auditory nerves. The
sense of smell is inferred more from the habits of the spe-
sect. m.—organs of sensation. cjeg tj^n from their structure, and a similar remark is appli-
The nervous system in the Crustacea may be cousidered cable “ f e fi.nc.mn r.entaS
as exhibiting three different modificatmns. The “rst , ’ possess7 together with numerous other external or-
these forms is displayed in the Podophthalma, those y P u ^ information of the presence of objects,
and^proceedST* au^TetaSg 'ejeiopment. The taste and smeli perhaps comeuex.in
somePfilaments to the neighbouring parts. The posterior order,
portions of the brain give rise to the two cords, which, in
their course, supply the mandibles with filaments, and,
after encircling the alimentary canal, unite in forming a
medullary oval ring-like mass in the middle ot the thorax,
many ti/es large? than the anterior ganglion or brain fcr
From the circumference of this ring nerves proceed to tl e g< y h (lbj(.tt whicl, is to serve
jaws and feet, and, retrally, a single nerve is sent to the organs of the mouth exhibit a remark-
tail This arrangement prevails m the common crab. In as food, anu » . r tb decapodous Crustacea
the eray fish, theScords which proceed from the brain are able £ 0h?ervXto*g a pair
shorter, and, after forming the collar, unite in an oblong “PP'.yP ithbtheir palpi. Underneath these may be
Ganglion, and supply the jaws with nerves. Leaving this of m<*ndib e maxillae, similar in many respects
franedion, the two cords remain near each other, uniting at found the p . Tb second pair of maxillse,
mtervals to form five ganglia for the supply of the corre- ul^rIip or
gTves rt to Sr nerves,gwhfch are distributed as radii to developed, and ^which are
Scaly fins that terminate the tail. In the first condi..on ** ^ H
m,mber"b;re '/"/S’^fiat^d the infects, an ttie^
Z Src" t^sS ‘hou^ S modific/ions fitting them for their new function.
CRUSTACEA.
SECT. IV. ORGANS OF DIGESTION.
The organs exhibited by the Crustacea, which assist in
the capture of their prey, are of various kinds. The or-
. •  i   o h orvfoH tnr n
sess, merits some notice. On the passage from Madeira Crustacea,
to Rio de Janeiro, the sea was observed by Sir Joseph
Banks to be unusually luminous, flashing in many parts
like lightning. He directed some of the water to be
hauled up, in which he discovered ttvo kinds of animals
that occasioned the phenomenon; the one a crustaceous
insect, which he called Cancer fulgens. In form it bears
some resemblance to the common shrimp. It is however
considerably less, and the legs are. furnished with nume¬
rous setaj. The light of this animal, which is very bril¬
liant, appears to issue from every part of the body. The
light is otherwise distributed in another crustaceous ani¬
mal, observed by Captain Tuckey in the Gulf of Guinea.
The luminous property resided in the brain, which, when
the animal was at rest, resembled a most brilliant ame¬
thyst, about the size of a large pin head; and from this
there darted, when the animal moved, flashes of a bril¬
liant silvery light, bna a Jo noijonu'i odj gmt<
o. The ordinary food of the Crustacea appears to be either
✓ minute zoophytes and molluscous animals, or dead animal
matter. In some species a preference appears tube given
to vegetable food; and one crab, the Birgus latro, is cele¬
brated for climbing trees for the purpose of stealing or
rather eating cocoa nuts. To entice their prey, or conceal
their own approach, a few Crustacea, as the Inachi and Ma-
cropodiae, cut portions of fuci and corallines, which they
cement to their bodies, and in this grotesqub style of dress
effectually hide their true forms. It is not improbable
that in this garb they can transport themselves more rea¬
dily from one place to another, it being practised chiefly
by those species which are bad swimmers. The dead
substances on which so many of the Crustacea feed are
probably discovered by the help of their organs of smell;
and so quickly do they detect substances suited to their
taste, that the lobster creels and crab pots, when suitably
baited, seldom fail to allure their victims.
The masticating organs are succeeded by a short gullet
opening into a stomach more or less complicated, with
cartilaginous bands, in many genera furnished with osse¬
ous teeth, to complete the reduction of the solid food
which the mouth had been unable to bruise. On each
side of the stomach a round flat calcareous stone is found
previous to the moulting, which serves as a store of earthy
matter for the renewal of the shell. These stones, vul¬
garly known by the name of crabs’ eyes, were long highly
esteemed for their medicinal virtues as absorbents. The
intestine, in the decapodous Crustacea, has a valvular en¬
largement with an attached caecum. In the other groups
the intestine is simple, proceeding directly to its terminal
opening under the tail.
SECT. V. ORGANS OF ASSIMILATION.
The nutritive fluids derived from the contents of the
stomach and intestines, are conveyed, in the decapodous
Crustacea, to a pulmonic ventricle, situated dorsally and
retrally in reference to the stomach. From this vessel
one or two principal arteries have their origin, and trans¬
mit the blood by as many subdivisions as there are bran¬
chiae. After the process of aeration has been effected, the
blood is returned to a heart, placed ventrally or below the
intestine, forming in this manner a nearly complete double
circulation.
Among the Entomostraca the heart appears to be single,
and to approach in its character the dorsal vessel of insects.
The organs of respiration are of three kinds. Among
the decapoda they are plumose pyramids, situate at the
base of the feet, covered by the shell, and watered by a
current which enters by an aperture from behind the
feet, and escapes by an opening near the mouth. Two
; pair belong to the auxiliary maxillae, and five pair to the
true feet, in the true crabs; while among the lobsters the
branchiae belong to the four anterior feet, and the first
auxiliary jaws have four in each group, making twenty-
two branchiae in all, on each side, instead of fourteen as in
the former group.
In another group of Crustacea the branchiae are not
concealed, as in those already noticed, but are external,
appearing under various forms, attached to or occupying
die place of natatory feet. In a third the branchiae are
reduced to vascular scales, differing greatly in the degree
of exposure or protection.
The liver occupies a prominent place, being very fully
developed. In the decapoda it is placed ventrally to the
stomach, large in its size, indeterminate in its form, and of
a yellow colour.
Among the peculiar secretions of the Crustacea, the sin¬
gular property of emitting light, which some species pos¬
SECT. VI. ORGANS OF REPRODUCTION.
With the exception of some entomostracous genera,
the sexes are distinct among the Crustacea in different
individuals. The males abound in some of the genera, in
others the females occur in apparent excess. In the deca¬
podous group the seminal organs are situate between the
stomach and heart, towards the centre of the body, and
send forth two vasa deferentia to the two external organs,
which may be observed behind the fifth pair of feet. The
ovaria also occupy a central position, and each sends out
a tortuous oviduct, opening in the corresponding third
sternal plates at the base of the third pair of feet. With
the edriophthalma, in general, the sexual organs are pla¬
ced under the tail. Among the Entomostraca these or¬
gans vary greatly in the different groups, and in some
genera the sexes appear to be united; and among the
Uaphniae a single intercourse with the male suffices to
render prolific seven or eight generations.
The evolution of the egg takes place in several of the
Entomostraca within the body of the mother, but in gene¬
ral the hatching is external. In the latter case the eggs,
often amounting to a great number, are attached by a
glutinous cement to certain filaments under the tail, or to
certain plates with which the branchiae are also connect¬
ed. In other cases, as Cyclops quadricornis, the uteri are
external sacs.
When newly hatched, the young of some of the Ento¬
mostraca nearly resemble the parent, while in others the
difference is so great as to have given rise to spurious ge¬
nera. In the more perfect groups, as among the edrioph¬
thalma, the young are deficient in the number of segments
of their body and corresponding number of feet, which
they acquire by degrees. Among the decapoda it was long
considered that they issued forth from the egg in a per¬
fect state. The interesting “ Zoological Researches” of
Mr Thompson have, however, unfolded more correct views,
and demonstrated the existence of a* metamorphosis so
great, that in the first stages of their growth they have
been constituted into particular genera, of which zoea is
the type. In this condition the young are essentially na¬
tatory, with cleft members, which change into simple feet,
solely, adapted for crawling. Mr Thompson has traced
this change in many decapodous genera. In the genus
Mysis the change from the young to the adult state is ef¬
fected by a gradual and successive development of parts.
According to the observations of Rathke, the young craw¬
fish, when it bursts the egg, has the external organs form¬
ed, but in a soft state, and advances to maturity by gra¬
dual development.
With the observations of Mr Thompson in view, con-
500
CRUSTACEA.
Crustacea, trasted with those of Rathke, it seems desirable that the
early life of the Crustacea were studied with care, and the
facts established subjected to the process of a cautious
generalization.
The duration of the Crustacea has not been investigated
with care. Among the Entomostraca the individuals seem
to perish with the close of the season in which they had
their birth, leaving behind them eggs, to be hatched in
the following spring, as preservatives of the race. In the
higher groups, especially the decapoda, life is maintained
during a succession of years. When moulting, they are an
easy prey to their foes; and when their shell has acquired
its hardness, the seeds and eggs of a variety of parasitical
plants and animals adhere to it, locomotion is retarded,
and starvation follows.
In the distribution of the Crustacea, the greater number
of species live in the sea, a few in fresh-water lakes and
rivers, and fewer still on the land. These last, however,
visit the sea periodically to deposit their spawn, and at all
times can preserve their gills in a moist state, to enable
them to effect the process of aeration of the blood. Some
lodge in holes excavated in the mud, while others seek
protection in a deserted univalve shell, requiring such a
covering to their tender and soft posterior extremity.
The species which have become extinct are few in num¬
ber, and chiefly confined to the newer series of rocks, if
we except the anomalous group of Trilobites, afterwards to
be taken notice of. In the rocks of the saliferous epoch
few traces of crustaceous organisms occur. During the cre¬
taceous epoch, however, or at the period when the various
deposits of oolites, lias, and chalk were in the course of
formation, several crustaceous animals appear to have flou¬
rished, the remains of which now occur imbedded in these
rocks. The species chiefly belong to the Macrourous tribe,
approaching generally the shrimps in character. In the
strata of the penult epoch, or those which are interposed
between the chalk and the sedimentary masses of a com¬
paratively modern date, the remains of crabs and lobsters
occur pretty generally distributed. In the rock well
known under the denomination London Clay, they have
been found imbedded in considerable numbers. The cause
of the extinction of these crustaceous species, at these
different periods, must be sought for in those physical al¬
terations which took place on the globe, by which the very
materials brought into the seas and lakes by rivers, to
form stratified matter, at these distinct eras, presented al¬
tered characters. Such changes rendered the seas unfit
to support one race of beings, while it became a suitable
abode for those which were destined to succeed.
The Crustacea are extensively employed for dietetical
purposes. They are eagerly sought after on many parts of
our rocky coast, and traps for their capture are in very ge¬
neral use. This kind of fishery, as being of a littoral kind,
is chiefly prosecuted by the more aged of our maritime
population, who have become unfit for employment where
greater vigour is required. These fishers make themselves
familiar with the haunts as well as the general economy
of their game, and the kind of garbage which constitutes
the most enticing bait. As food, the Crustacea are used
either plainly boiled, or dressed with various condiments,
sometimes also marinated with vinegar.
celebrated Sw^ede introduced a number of sections or sub- Crm
divisions which succeeding authors have raised to the
rank of orders or genera. Fabricius enlarged the number
of genera of crustaceous animals, assigning to them, at the
same time, more precise distinguishing characters. In this
field of improvement he was followed by Latreille, Lamark,
Dumeril, and Leach. The last-mentioned naturalist, by
great zeal and labour, has not only added many new spe¬
cies to the class, but has succeeded in unfolding many
new characters, and giving to the generic marks a degree
of precision which they did not previously possess.
The various groups into which different naturalists have
divided the Crustacea resemble one another more in their
composition than in the terms by which they have been
designated. If we assume the aerating organs as the basis of
arrangement, we shall find, correlative with these, certain i
distinguishing features in the circulation and in the ner¬
vous system, as well as in the digestive and locomotive {
organs. Such considerations appear to have induced La-
mark to distribute the Crustacea into two orders, which he
has termed Homobranchia and Hetefobranchia, the for- |!
mer having a solid shield concealing the branchiae, which |
are placed on the sides at the base of the feet and auxili¬
ary jaws, while the aerating organs of the latter never occur
in the same position, but are variously placed in the dif¬
ferent subordinate groups. The organization of the first
order is extensively developed, and furnishes well-marked
features of discrimination, separating it from the second
division, which includes animals of more simple structure.
ORDER K HOMOBRANCHIA.
The crustaceous animals of this order have the body
covered by a continuous shell, which contains the viscera,
and a tail which serves the threefold purpose of giving
passage to the extremity of the intestinal canal, of acting
as an organ of progressive motion, and of retaining the
eggs by means of its fringed appendages. The thorax and
abdomen, as well as the head, may be considered as unit¬
ed. The eyes are twm in number, and compound, lodged
in cavities in the anteal margin of the shield, and are sup¬
ported on moveable peduncles, which vary greatly in their
length in the different groups. The peculiar footstalks of
the eye have given rise to the term Podophthahna, by
which in some systems they are denominated. The an¬
tennae are four in number, the intermediate pair being di¬
vided into filaments. The mouth occurs in this group in
its most complicated form, with three pair of auxiliary
jaws furnished with palpi. The legs are ten in number,
the first pair usually of a large size and formed into pin¬
cers, the rest terminating in simple claws. In some cases,
however, the second and third pairs are also formed into
pincers ; and in some of the genera the posterior pair have
compressed joints as oars for swimming. The regularity
in the number of feet in this group has suggested the
term Decapoda, by which they are denominated by La¬
treille. In the structure of the tail the animals of this
division exhibit very remarkable differences. In one tribe
the tail consists of but few joints, the last one being sim¬
ple, the whole shorter than the body, and usually folded
up under the shield in a cavity for its reception. This
shortness of the tail has suggested the title Brachyura.
In the other tribe the tail is usually exposed, about the
length of the body, and furnished with plates at the ex¬
tremity. The second form of the tail has given rise to the
term Macroura, by which they are known.
The species known to Linnaeus were few in number, and 1. Tribe Brachyura.
were distributed into the four genera, Cancer, Oniscus, In this division of crustaceous animals the body is
Monoculus, and Phalangium. In the genus Cancer the ally, of an orbicular or compact form, and this cone 11 >
CHAPTER II.
SYSTEMATICAL ARRANGEMENT OF THE CRUSTACEA.
rusta
CRUSTACEA.
joined with the imperfect development of the tail, restricts
the progress of the species to crawling rather than swim¬
ming. The animals here referred to are well known under
the familiar name crabs. The sexes are readily distinguish¬
ed by the form of the tail, which in the male is narrow
and short, while in the female it is proportionally of much
greater dimensions.
& Among those animals of this tribe which exhibit the
more ordinary forms, there is one family characterized in
a particular manner by the structure of the feet being
adapted to swimming. In general with such the body is
broad, rather short, rounded anteriorly, and the margin spi¬
nous. With the exception of the pincers, which are fitted
for grasping, all the remaining feet in some genera are form¬
ed for swimming, while in others the flattened form of the
joint is restricted to the hinder pair. The facility with
which these animals can transport themselves permits a
wider range of motion than the other species, which are
chiefly confined to the shore. In a foreign group, includ¬
ing the genera Podophthalma and Lupa, the peduncles of
the eyes are remarkably produced, and received into a
groove on each side. In the other genera the eyes have
short stalks lodged in oval cavities. The genus Portunus
contains many species which are common on our shores,
but seldom applied to any useful purpose.
A second family of crustaceous brachyuri, denominated
Arcuata, have the joints and claws of the feet rounded
and conical. The anterior margin of the shield is semi¬
circular and full, while the posterior is contracted and
truncated. Like the preceding family, the tail of the
males in general has only five joints. They chiefly inha¬
bit our rocky shores, and are eagerly sought after, "it is in
this group that the cancer pagurus, or common crab, oc¬
cupies its place in the system generically characterized
by the large basilar joints of the exterior antennae, and
economically employed as an esteemed article of food.
The family Quadrilatera, as the name implies, have
a more or less quadrangular form, in some species approach¬
ing to heart-shaped, with the front inclined, forming a sort
of hood, and truncated. The tail in both sexes consists of
seven distinct fragments. Though in these points of re¬
semblance the genera of this family stand related to one
another, yet in their habits or physical distribution they
exhibit the most striking differences. Among those which
inhabit the sea, the Gonoplax angulata, a species not un¬
common on the southern and western coasts, lives in ex¬
cavations formed in the hardened mud, open at both ex¬
tremities; the Pinnotheres, a genus containing several
species, take up their abode in living bivalve shells, such
as mussels, pennae, and oysters. By some of the ancients
these crabs were considered as acting as sentinels; by others,
as co-operating for interested purposes.
Thus fed by mutual aid, the friendly pair
Divide their gains, and all the plunder share.
A few of the species of this group, belonging to the
genus Thelphusa, are restricted to fresh water, from which
however they can withdraw themselves for a while to the
air. The Thelphusa fluviatiles, figured at Plate CLXXX.,
found in Italy, the Levant, and Egypt, is esteemed as food,
and occupies a prominent figure on ancient Greek medals.
hen the attention of the economists of this country shall
have been suitably fixed on the importance of peopling
our present watery wastes, including lakes and rivers, with
animals of ornament and use, it appears probable that this
species of crab will speedily be naturalized, its habits fur¬
nishing every facility for its transportation.
A third group in this family are capable of inhabiting
!e land, burrowing in holes, and feeding on all sorts of
garbage. I hey are chiefly confined to the equatorial re-
501
gions. As an example, see the Gecarcinus ruricola, figured Crustacea,
on Plate CLXXX. &
A fourth family, denominated Orbiculata, exhibit around-
ed shell, usually solid and smooth, the peduncles of the
eyes short, the pincers of unequal length, according to the
sex, the region, of the mouth contracted at its upper ex¬
tremity, with the third joint of the outer auxiliary feet in
the form of a lengthened triangle. The Corystes cassive-
lanus, figured Plate CLXXX. belongs to this group,—a
species which is very common in the sandy bays of the
country, and frequently cast ashore after storms.
The group which has been denominated Trigona is
more distinctly marked than some of the preceding fami¬
lies. The body is full and rounded behind, and produced
and pointed before, and in many species armed with strong
spines. The legs are usually long and slender, and hence
the name of sea spiders, by which they are familiarly
known. The 'region of the mouth is nearly square. To
some of the species, as Main squinado, a susceptibility
to the charms of music and extraordinary sagacity have
been attributed. Another species, Hyas araneus, is de¬
tested by the oyster fishers, as injurious to the young
spawns ywnupel diana ovIgvswj bxho^jb a m noiTaeTofr
The two remaining groups of brachyuri, which may be
denominated Heteropoda, from the condition of their legs
being peculiar, are capable of division into two families.
The first, termed Cryptopoda, have the shield semicircular
or triangular. The feet, with the exception of the pincers,
are capable, when at rest, of withdrawing into a marginal
cavity of the shield. In the genus Calappa, the pincers
are elevated into a crest above, and folded in the anterior
margin so as to close in the front of the shield. The spe¬
cies are natives of equatorial seas.
The other group, termed Notopoda, is distinguished by
the last pair of feet having their origin above the general
margin of the shield. This gives to these organs a dorsal
rather than a ventral aspect. The species are few in
number, and in general strangers to the northern seas,
though one species of the genus Dromia has been recent¬
ly added to the British fauna.
2. Tribe Macroura.
The crustaceous animals belonging to this division, fa¬
miliarly known as lobsters or shrimps, have the body more
produced than in the preceding. The tail is as long, or
longer, than the body, exposed or simply recurved at the
extremity. It is composed of seven segments, with ap¬
pendages at the extremity, forming a fin. In their mo¬
tions they are more agile than those of the preceding
group, and as their organs are of a natatory character, the
species are restricted in a great measure to the waters.
In the first division of this tribe, including the species
of more perfect organization, the first pair of feet at least
are in the form of pincers, the remainder not bifid or na¬
tatory. The lateral appendages of the tail are so placed
as to form a fan-shaped fin.
In the first subdivision of these Crustacea, denominated
by Latreille Carides, the exterior antennae are placed more
ventrally than in the intermediate pair, and have their pe¬
duncles covered by a large scale or plate. The snout pro¬
jects, and is frequently spinous, while the body is usually
much incurved. There are five pairs of caudal feet. Some
of the species are eagerly sought after as food, as the
common shrimp, Crangon vulgaris, along with another
species, Palmmon serratus or prawn.
The second subdivision, including those species having
the antennae placed on the same line, readily admit of dis¬
tribution into three families. The first, including the ge¬
nus Scyllarus, has the pincers imperfect, and the external
antennae destitute of a stalk, with the basilar joints dilated,
502
CRUSTACEA.
Crustacea, forming a horizontal crest on each side. It may be con-
sidered as an equatorial group.
The second family exhibits equally imperfect^pincers,
♦ but the external antennae are largely developed. The Pa-
linurus vulgaris, or thorny lobster, sometimes also termed
cray-fish, is a well-known example in the markets of Lon-
<l$h i&fid FaBMo ’■Jilt oi ylpnidginoiaR oafeoioni vodT
The third family, of which the common lobster may be
regarded as the type, has the first pair of legs in the form
of pincers, and in some of the other genera the second,
and even the third pairs, are didactyle. The group con¬
tains a few fresh-water species, among which the Astaeus
tiuviatilis or craw-fish may be mentioned, as inhabiting
many of the rivers of England, in the clayey banks of
which the individuals form their holes.
The second division of Macrouri exhibits certain ano¬
malous characters, which separate them from the more
perfect and regular group to which we have made xeier-
ence. The first subdivision comprehends the hermits or
soldier crabs. These are distinguished by the tail not
beino- in the form of a fin, and the diminished size of the
posterior legs. In one group all the upper parts are crus¬
taceans and protected; but in another, a portion of the tno-
rax and the tail being membranaceous, they are exposed to
greater danger. This is guarded against in a remaikable
manner. Many of the species inhabit deserted univalve
shells, introducing their short tail into the spiral cavity of
the shell, their thorax filling the last whorl. The pincers,
which are in some measure protected by the pillar of the
shell, are the least in size. These crustacea move easily
from place to place in their assumed abode, and shift into
a shell of larger dimensions as their own bodies increase
in size. The Pagurus Bernhardus is common on all our
shores, and is figured at Plate CLXXX.
Another species, the Pagurus Diogenes, common in Ja¬
maica, for example, may be viewed as a terrestrial species.
The second-subdivision, denominated Fissipedes, are des¬
titute of pincers, while the feet have an appendage exter¬
nally, issuing near the base, giving them a natatory cha¬
racter. Instead of the eggs being carried by the false
feet under the tail, they adhere to the base of the tho¬
racic feet; a circumstance which has given rise to the
denomination opossum shrimps.
nominated Amphipoda, the group commences which Jiascij
been termed Edriophthalma, having sessile eyes, all those Sv
 .ol-.. vcfavrorl •»-« Jiavincr fhpir eves spat pa r... I
ORDER II.—HETEROBRANCHIA.
The crustaceous animals of this order exhibit charac¬
ters more varied and anomalous than those of the preced¬
ing order. The branchiae are external when they consist
of imbricated plumes, or in the form of aerating pouches,
but never placed, as in the preceding order, under the
shield, but either on the under side of the belly or tail,
and unconnected with the auxiliary jaws. They are of
small size when compared with those already noticed.
The animals of this order may be divided into two tribes,
in the first of which should be placed those which have
their mandibles bearing palpi, and into the second those
having mandibles destitute of such appendages.
Among the crustaceous animals of the first tribe with
mandibles furnished with palpi, the Stomapoda seem en¬
titled to hold the first rank. In the pedunculated form
of their eyes they resemble the animals of the order ho-
mobranchia. The branchiae are exposed, and attached to
the five pair of appendages under the tail, which act as
natatory organs. The covering is usually soft, and even
transparent. In general the species of this family, inhabit
the tropical seas. The Squilla mantis, however, is a na¬
tive of the Mediterranean; and the Alima hyalina, from
the west coast of Africa, is figured in Plate CLXXX.
With the second family of palpigerous crustacea, de¬
groups previously referred to having their eyes seated on
a peduncle. The Amphipoda have the body usually com¬
pressed and incurved. The first pair of feet, correspond¬
ing to the second pair of auxiliary jaws in the decapodous
crustacea, are attached to the first segment of the body.
The branchioe appear to be constituted by the hairs on
the divided natatory appendages under the tail. Some
of the species occur in rivers, and streams, others attach
themselves to the sea shore. Ithey swim on their side,
and many species leap with facility by the sudden un¬
bending of their body. They prey upon dead animal mat¬
ter, and constitute a favourite article of food for the birds
which frequent the shore.
In the crustacea which follow, the mandibles are desti¬
tute of palpi. The family denominated Lamodipoda are
distinguished by the absence of the tail, the last pair of
legs being inserted near the extremity of the body. The |
anterior pair of feet are attached to the head; these, to¬
gether with the following pair, which are the largest, end !.
in pincers. The tentacula ai-e four in number. At thekase |
of the third and fourth pairs of feet, in some cases also of
the second pair, are vesicular appendages. The third and
fourth pairs of feet are in some species greatly reduced in
their organization. The species of some of the geaera |
dwell among fuci and zoophytes, while some Cyami at¬
tach themselves to the bodies of cetaceous animals, and i
are on that account known to sailors under the denomi- ,
nation of whale lice. The Cyamus ceti is figured on Plate
CLXXXI.
The Isopoda differ from the preceding group, in the
anterior feet not being attached to the head, but, like the
following pairs, connected with a distinct segment of the ]
body. Leaf-like appendages, or vesicles, occur under the
tail, usually inclosed or covered by lateral plates. The
habits of this group exhibit very remarkable differences.
The Epicarides, having neither eyes nor antennae, are para¬
sitical on the prawn. , .
Among the Cymothoada, the Limnoria terebrans, though
of small size, is well known as peculiarly destructive to
beams of timber employed in the construction of sea har-
fi0111'8* ...... £ .
The peculiar character of this animal was first ascer¬
tained by that eminent engineer Mr Stevenson,
observations connected with the construction of the bell
Rock light-house. It excavates its cylindrical hole for its
dwelling, and propagates so rapidly that in a few years
submerged timber is rendered useless. So destructive
indeed is this small animal, that Norway logs laid down
at the Bell Rock to support temporary railways m IblR,
were found, when lifted in 1811, to have been reduced by
its ravages from ten inches square to seven inches, or at
the rate of about an inch in the year. Mr Stevenson, in
order to observe more particularly the ravages ot this de¬
structive animal, fixed down on the Bell Rock m 1»1
specimens of teak wood, oak, black birch, erne an
Norway fir timber. The only specimen which remained
unperforate till 1820 was the teak wood; the rest were
almost entirely destroyed in the course of two or three
years. Sheathing with copper the beams thus employed
in marine architecture, seems to be the on y preven
of the injuries of this small but successful destroyed
The Idoteadae have habits, as marine species, dittering
little from the Amphipoda. One species, figured at me
CLXXXI., has been denominated, from its locality, »
cilia Baffini, a native of Baffin’s Bay. Jhe genus to whicti
it belongs was instituted by the Rev. Charles Co
Banff in 1784, for the reception of a British species w
has been denominated Astacilla longicornis. 1
CRUSTACEA.
503
soecies was afterwards described in Sowerby’s British
Miscellany in 1805, as a new species, under the title
Oniscus longicornis. In 1825 it was produced by Dr
Johnston of Berwick, not only as a new species, but as
constituting a new genus, to which the name Leacia la-
certosa was assigned. The other species, Astacilla Baffini,
was collected by Captain Parry among the marine pro¬
ductions of the Arctic seas, and figured and described by
Captain Sabine, in the appendix to the First Voyage, as
Jdotea Baffini. Overlooking the observations of our arc¬
tic voyagers* M. Latreille, in the fourth volume of the
Regne Animal of Cuvier, revived the arctic species under
the new title Arcturus tuberculatus.
In those denominated AsSellota, the Asellus aquaticus
occupies a distinguished place. It is a fresh-water species.
The Oniscides terminate the group. They are terres¬
trial, requiring, however, damp air, to enable the branchiae
to exercise their functions. They are dehominated in Eng¬
land wood-lice, in Scotland slaters.
The last crustaceous group of the Heterobranchia which
we have to notice have been denominated Entomostraca,
or Branchiopoda. They have corneous integuments, with
a shield in one piece, or divided like a bivalve shell. Hence
the origin of the first of the epithets by which they have
been characterized. The branchiae are in the form of
hairs or feathers, forming a part of the feet. In general
these Crustacea are of small size, and may be denomi¬
nated microscopical. The fry of some of the decapodous
Crustacea have in this group appeared as distinct genera;
while the fry of species belonging to the group have been
raised to the rank of genera.
The first great division of the Entomostraca includes
the animals of which the genus Monoculus of Linnaeus
consists. They are distinguished by their simple nata¬
tory feet, the eyes united, the antennae generally four in
number, the mouth composed of alabrum, two mandibles,
a tongue, and one or two pair of jaws. The head is incor¬
porated with the thorax.
In one family, the Lophyropa, the feet do not exceed
ten, with joints more or less cylindrical. The Cyclops
quadricornis, to be found in almost every fresh-water pool,
is an interesting example of the group. When kept in a
phial, it multiplies with amazing rapidity, and forms a
pleasing object for the microscope. The females may be
readily distinguished by the bags on each side of the tail,
as represented in Plate CLXXXI., containing the eggs. In
another family, in which the body is inclosed in a bivalve
shield, the individuals of many species are to be found in
ditches in vast numbers, and form very pleasing objects of
observation. Among these the peculiar markings of the
Cypris ornata, figured at Plate CLXXXI., seldom fail to
I arrest the attention.
In the second family, denominated by Latreille Phyl-
lopa, the number of feet exceed twenty, and their joints,
especially of the posterior ones, are flattened in the form
of ciliated leaves. The eyes are two in number, and in
some instances pedunculated. The Artemia salina occu¬
pies a prominent place in this group. It is commonly
known by the name of Lymington shrimp, or brine worm.
| The Rev. Mr llackett has furnished the following inte¬
resting notice of this curious animal:—
; “ Myriads of these animalcula are to be found in the
salterns at Lymington, in the open tanks or reservoirs,
where the brine is deposited previous to the boiling. It
attains the desired strength by evaporation, from exposure
to the sun and air, in about a fortnight. A pint contains
about a quarter of a pound of salt; and this concentrated
solution instantly destroys most other marine animals,
“ These tanks are called clearers, as the liquor becomes
clear in them; an effect which the workmen attribute in
some degree to the rapid and continual motion of the Crustacea,
brine-worm, or to the particles which cloud the liquor '
serving for its food; but this is mere conjecture. So
strongly persuaded, however, are the workmen of this
fact, that they are accustomed to transport a few of the
worms from another saltern, if they do not appear at their
own. They increase astonishingly in the course of a few
days.
“ It is observable that the brine-worm is never found in
the sunpans, where the brine is made by the admission of
sea-water during the summer, and which are emptied
every fortnight; but only in the pits and reservoirs, where
it is deposited after it is taken out of the pans, and where
some of the liquor constantly remains. When it becomes
much diluted with rain-water, from October till May (dur¬
ing which time the manufacture is at a stand), a few only
of the worms are visible; but at the approach of summer
young ones appear in great numbers.”
Another species, the Branchipus stagnalis, figured in
Plate CLXXXL, greatly magnified, is found in ditches of
soft standing water, in which they s\Hm constantly on their
backs, keeping themselves suspended by the vibrations
of their numerous fins, and moving forwards by giving
a sudden spring with their tails. They delight much in
the sunshine, during which they appear near the surface
of the water. On the least disturbance they start in the
manner of small fish, and endeavour to secrete themselves
by diving in the soft mud.
A third species of the group, the Lepidura prolongata,
greatly resembles the preceding, in being found in stag¬
nant marshes, usually in great numbers, making their ap¬
pearance in certain years in those places to which for a
time they had been strangers.
The second great division of the Entomostraca, deno¬
minated by Latreille Pcecilopoda, differ from the preced¬
ing in the ambulatory or prehensile character of the an¬
terior feet, and the branchial or natatory forms of the pos¬
terior ones. They are likewise destitute of mandibles, and
even jaws, the mouth being suited for soft food. They live,
in general, as parasites on the bodies of fishes, feeding on
their substance. The Caligus curtus feeds on the gills
of the salmon; the Anthosoma Smithii, figured in Plate
CLXXXI., adheres to the shark.
Besides these more ordinary groups of crustaceous ani¬
mals, to which a general reference has been made, there
are yet two others to which we shall merely allude. The
Trilobites occur only in a fossil state. They make a near
approach to the onisci. But even in the best preserved
specimens the existence of feet has not been satisfactorily
determined. By the labours of Brongniart, Desmarest,
and others, the permanency and difference of certain forms
have been ascertained, so as to justify the establishment
of several genera in the group, and enable geologists to
employ more definite language.
The Cirrhipides, including the shells which constituted
the Linnean genus Lepas, make a near approach to the
Crustacea in many respects, especially to the Entomos¬
traca. But in an article of this kind it would be unprofit¬
able to give the detailed view which would be requisite
for the purpose of establishing the relationship, by the ex¬
hibition of the analogies which exist.
The Crustacea are in general very easily preserved for
the cabinet. Their members readily relax after being
dried, and admit of being set according to any particular
attitude. The species which inhabit the sea require to be
steeped for several hours in fresh water before they are
dried. If this precaution be omitted, the salt water which
adheres to the several parts, especially the ligaments, keeps
them damp, and occasions mouldiness and decomposition.
In studying the Crustacea generally, the following
504 C R Y
Cmth works may be consulted with advantage:—Latreille, His-
II toire Naturelle generate et particuliere des Crustaces, et des
Cryolite. jnsectes; Lamark, Histoire Naturelle des Animaux sans
Vertebres; Cuvier, Rcgne Animal; Desmarest, Conside¬
rations generates sur la classe des Crustaces.
In the examination of the British species, useful help
CRY
may be obtained from the British Zoology of Pennant. The o
Entomologist's Useful Compendium, by Samouelle, contains 1
a compilation of Dr Leach’s views of arrangement of the ^
Crustacea, and will yield much assistance, especially if Dr
Leach’s splendid work, Malacostraca Podophthalma Bri¬
tannia, be at the same time accessible. (f. f. f.)
CRUTH, or Growth, a kind of musical instrument for¬
merly in use among the common people in W ales. It is of
the fidicinal kind, and somewhat resembles a violin, being
twelve inches in length, and an inch and a half in tnick-
ness. It has six strings supported by a bridge, and is
played on with a bow. The bridge differs from that of a
violin, in being flat, and not convex on the top ; a circum¬
stance from which it is to be inferred that the strings are
to be struck at the same time, so as to afford a succession
of concords. Ihe bridge is not placed at right angles
with the sides of the instrument, but in an oblique direc¬
tion ; and, which is further to be remarked, one of the
feet of the bridge goes through one of the sound-holes,
which are circular, and rests on the inside of the back,
while the other foot, which is proportionably shorter, rests
on the belly before the other sound-hole. The instru¬
ment is now disused. Sir John Hawkins tells us, that in
his time there was but one person in the whole princi¬
pality of North Wales who could play upon it.
CRUZADO, in Commerce, a Portuguese coin, struck
under Alphonsus V. about the year 1457, at the time
when Pope Calixtus sent thither the bull for a crusade
against the infidels. This coin has a cross on one side,
and the arms of Portugal on the other.
CRYOLITE, alumine fluatee alkaline, Haixy; cryone,
hatloide, Haidinger.
This rare mineral is of a snow-white colour. It was
originally brought by a missionary from Greenland to
Copenhagen, where, from its resemblance to the common
varieties^of the sulphate of barytes, it lay neglected for
many years. At length Abildgard, attracted by its pe¬
culiar ponderosity, was induced to undertake an examina¬
tion, in which fluoric acid, hitherto known only as a com¬
ponent of fluor spar, presented itself along with alumine;
but as a considerable residue remained unaccounted for,
Klaproth repeated the investigation, and discovered the
presence.of thirty-six per cent, of soda.
Of the geognostic relations of this interesting mineral
nothing was known till the late Sir Charles Giesecke was
induced, by his ardent desire for the prosecution of science,
to take up his abode in those dreary regions, where he
remained for upwards of eight years, and was enabled to
visit the locality, which he found situated on the west coast
of the peninsula, in a fiord or arm of the sea, denominated
Arksut, near a place called Ivikaet, where it occurs in two
contemporaneous beds disposed in gneiss, nearly parallel
to each other, and at no great distance.
The upper bed contains the fine white cryolite, and ap¬
pears to have been the only one noticed previous to Gie-
secke’s visit. The specimens from the lower bed first intro¬
duced by him are not only a good deal stained by ferrugi¬
nous matter, but contain imbedded, sparry iron ore, some¬
times in large crystals, galena, pyrites, and also detached
crystals of felspar and quartz.
Fragments of cryolite obtained by cleavage are too often
called crystals ; but nothing of the kind has hitherto been
observed. Its cleavage, however, is very distinct after
being well soaked in water; it is threefold, two of these
forming rectangular prisms with very smooth surfaces,
while the third is at right angles to these, and rougher.
Its great fusibility, for it yields even to the flame of a can¬
dle, suggested to Abildgard the name of cryolite, taken
from xguog, ice, and A/0os, a stone, which it has always re¬
tained. It contains, according to
Klaproth. Vauquelin.
Soda 36    32
Alumine 23*5 21
Fluoric acid and water 40*5 47
and indicates a specific gravity of 2-949.
CRYOPHORUS, a name given by Dr Wollaston to an
instrument of his invention, which serves to illustrate the i
theory of heat. It is described by him in the Philosophi-
cal Transactions, 1813, p. 71. The form of this instru- j
ment may be readily conceived without a figure. It is a '
glass tube, bent into the form of the Greek letter n, with
a ball of glass, D and E, at the end of each leg; the ho¬
rizontal part of the tube is one or two feet long, the legs j
are two inches in length each, and the diameter of each
of the hollow glass balls is one inch. The ball D is half
filled with water; if it contained more, the water in freez- j
ino- would burst it. A vacuum is produced in the tube i
ami ball E, by boiling the water in the ball D, whilst the j
capillary aperture in the ball E, through which the steam i
is issuing, is held in the flame of a lamp till the steam be¬
comes weak enough to allow the melted glass to collapse
and seal up the capillary aperture. The apparatus is now
allowed to cool, when the ball D will be half full of wa¬
ter, and the ball E, and the rest of the cavity of the ap¬
paratus, will contain transparent watery vapour. In this
state of things, if the ball E be placed in a freezing mix¬
ture of salt and snow, the water in the ball D will be
speedily frozen, although distant from the freezing mix¬
ture all the length of the horizontal glass tube. The cold
of the freezing mixture produces this effect by condens- i
ing the aqueous vapour in the ball E, and thereby pro¬
ducing a vacuum in the part not occupied by the water; j:
thus taking off the pressure from the water in D, so as
to allow another portion of that water to assume the state
of vapour, a change of form attended with a reduction of
heat, or a production of cold. rIhat sensible cold accom- i
panics the passage of a liquid to the state of vapour, may j
be seen bv swinging a thermometer at the end of a string,
the bulb having been previously wetted with sulphuric
ether; the rapid evaporation of the ether, accelerated by
the renewal of air, causes the mercury in the thermome¬
ter to contract considerably, and to sink to the volume
which it has at the freezing of water, or even lower.
The phenomenon exhibited by the cryophorus is of the
same nature as that produced by means of the air-pump ^
in Professor Leslie’s experiment, where concentrated sul- ^
phuric acid, dry basaltic porphyry in a state of powder, or j
some other body that has a similar faculty of absorbing
vapour, is placed under the receiver of an air-pump. A
saucer of water is placed under the same receiver. When
water alone is relieved from the pressure of the atmo¬
sphere by pumping out the air from the receiver, a portion
of the water becomes vapour, but this vapour presses on
the water, and prevents the disengagement of more va¬
pour, so that, although cold is produced, it is not sutt-
cient to freeze the water; but when water and an a |
sorbent substance are placed in the receiver, the absor
ent substance serves the purpose of taking up the vapour
C H Y
CRY
505
Cry
Cry= '
and removing the pressure from the water, so as to allow
another portion of water to be changed into vapour, and
consequently more cold to be produced; so that at last,
after the pump has been wrought for some time, the win¬
ter in the saucer freezes.
The same effect of freezing a small portion of water
would be produced if the water could be placed in a va¬
cuum of a great extent, so that the vapour from the water,
having room to expand, a sufficient quantity of water would
be changed into vapour, and a sufficient quantity of heat
thereby absorbed to change the water into ice. (b. b.)
CRYPTA, a subterraneous cell or vault, especially un¬
der a church, for the interment of particular families or
persons. Ciampini, describing the outside of the Vatican,
speaks of the cryptce of St Andrew', St Paul, and others.
The word is formed of xeunru, abscondo, to hide, cover,
or conceal.
Vitruvius uses the wmrd crypta for a part of a build¬
ing answering nearly to our cellar, and Juvenal for a
cloaca. Hence crypto-porticus is a subterraneous place
arched or vaulted, and used as an under-work or passage
in old walls. The same term is also employed to signify
the decoration at the entry of a grotto.
Crypta is likewise used by some of our ancient wri¬
ters for a chapel or oratory under ground.
CRYPTOGAMIA (from xgwrrog, occultus, concealed,
and yoc/ios, nuptia, nuptials), the twenty-fourth class in
the Linnaean system, comprehending those plants, the
fructification of which is concealed, either through mi¬
nuteness, or within the fruit.
CRYPTOGRAPHY, the art of writing in cipher, or
with sympathetic ink. Amongst the methods which Ovid
teaches young women, in order to deceive their guardians,
when they write to their lovers, he mentions that of writ¬
ing with new milk, and of making the writing legible by
means of coal dust or soot; from which it appears that
the use of sympathetic ink was known to the ancients.
Tuta quoque est, fallitque oculos, e lacte reeenti
Litera: carbonis pulvere tange; leges.
Ausonius proposes the same means to Paulinus in the two
following verses:
Lacte incide notas ; arescens charta tenebit Crystal
Semper inaspicuas ; prodentur scripta favillis. ||
Lut it would appear that the commentators on this poet Crystalli-
have mistaken the meaning of the word favilla, which is ,
used here to signifyor soot; and in the same sense
it is often employed by other poets. Columella, speaking
of the method of preserving plants from insects with soot,
calls it nigra favilla. In another place he mentions the
same practice, and says fuliginem quce supra focos tectis in-
JicBret. Other glutinous juices besides milk may be em¬
ployed for the same purpose. Pliny recommends the milky
juice of certain plants, and particularly mentions that of
lettuce.
It is now well known that several metallic solutions may
be employed for this purpose; and that these, on being
exposed to the action of certain vapours, become visible,
and thus exhibit the characters which had been written
with them. This effect was perhaps accidentally dis¬
covered ; but it does not appear to be of great antiquity.
In a book De Secretis, compiled by Wecker, from Porta,
Cardan, and some other old writers, and printed in 1592,
there is no mention of it; nor is it even noticed by Ca-
neparius in his book De Atramentis, printed in 1619.
The first receipt given for the preparation of a sympa¬
thetic ink is in a book by Peter Borrel, printed at Paris
in 1653, where it is called “ magnetic water which acts
at a distance.”
CRYSTAL, in its original import, signifies fee. It was
afterwards applied to rock-crystal, or crystallized siliceous
earth ; for the ancients, according to Pliny, regarded that
body as water which had been congealed by the action
of cold.
Crystal, a species of stone belonging to the quartz or
siliceous genus. See Mineralogy.
CRYSTALLINE, in general, something composed of
or resembling crystal.
Crystalline Heavens^ in Ancient Astronomy, two spheres
imagined between the primum mobile and the firmament,
in the Ptolemaic system, which supposes the heavens so¬
lid, and only susceptible of a single motion. See Astro¬
nomy.
CRYSTALLIZATION.
Defini
that or
tallize
must b
suscept
ofsolu
or fusil
i, Crystallization is the symmetrical arrangement of
the particles of a body when it passes from the liquid to
the solid form. This arrangement is determined by the
mutual action of the small solids of which the body is com¬
posed ; and these solids are separated from the liquid by
their force of cohesion. Crystallization is one of the most
remarkable effects of cohesion. The qualities of a solid
in which the force of cohesion is more easily overcome in
one direction than another, its brittleness, elasticity, and
ductility, depend on this arrangement of its particles.
Solid bodies are either found in irregular masses, or ex¬
hibit certain determinate forms by the process of crystal¬
lization. Those substances which are capable of assuming
^regular figures uniformly affect the same form; subject,
[ however, to certain deviations, from the operation of par¬
ticular circumstances. Those bodies only can assume the
form of crystals which are susceptible of being reduced to
the fluid state. This is the usual method of crystallizing
saline substances. The substance to be crystallized is dis¬
solved in a sufficient quantity of water to retain it in solu¬
tion. This is slowly evaporated ; and as the bulk of the
fluid is diminished, the particles are brought nearer to each
other, when they combine together by the force of co¬
hesion, and form crystals. Some saline bodies, which dis-
. VOL. VII.
solve but in small proportion in cold water, are found to
be very soluble in hot water. But when this water cools,
it is no longer capable of holding them in solution. The
particles then gradually approach each other, and arrange
themselves in certain determinate forms; or, in other
words, they crystallize. Many of the saline bodies which
crystallize in this manner combine with a considerable
portion of water. This is called the water of crystalli¬
zation. Other saline substances are equally soluble in hot
and cold water. These substances do not crystallize by
cooling the fluid; they assume regular forms only by di¬
minishing its quantity. This is effected by means of eva-r
poration from the application of heat. In salts which are
crystallized in these circumstances, the proportion of wa¬
ter which enters into combination is small.
There are some classes of bodies which assume regular
forms, but are not soluble in any liquid. Such, for instance,
are metallic substances, glass, and some other bodies.
Substances of this nature are crystallized by being pre¬
viously subjected to fusion ; and thus having combined
with caloric, they are reduced to the liquid state, and the
particles being separated from each other, are left at liberty
to arrange themselves in regular forms, or to crystallize, as
the body cools.
3 s
506
CRYSTALLIZATION.
Introduc¬
tion.
But what is the cause which operates in determining
the regular arrangement of the particles of bodies in these
circumstances ? or what is the cause of the same bodies
Cohjec- jn tjie same circumstances assuming regular figures ? The
the^ause^ anc*ent philosophers supposed that the elements of bodies
consisted of certain regular geometrical figures; but it
does not appear that they applied this theory to explain
crystallization. The schoolmen ascribed the regular figure
of crystals to their substantial forms ; and others supposed
that it depended merely on the aggregation of the particles,
but without explaining to what this aggregation was owing,
or the reason of the regular figures thus produced. Ac-
Newton’s. cording to Sir Isaac Newton and Boscovich, the particles
of bodies held in solution in a fluid are arranged at regu¬
lar distances and in regular order; and when the force of
cohesion between the particles and the fluid is diminished,
it is increased between the particles themselves. Thus
they separate from the fluid, and combine togethei in
"roups which are composed of the particles nearest, to
each other. If we suppose that the particles composing
the same body have the same figure, the aggregation of
any determinate number of such particles will produce
Bergman’s, similar figures. Bergman is of opinion that the particles
of saline substances possess a double tendency: by the
one they arrange themselves in the form of spiculse ; and
by the other these spiculae arrange themselves at cer¬
tain angles of inclination, and according to the difference
of these angles, different forms of crystals are produced.
These effects are ascribed by the ingenious author to the
mutual attraction which exists between the particles, which,
according to the peculiar figures of the atoms, at one time
arranges them in the form of spiculae, and then combines
the spiculae thus formed under different angles of inclina¬
tion. But this arrangement of the particles, or tendency
to arrangement, assigned by Bergman as a cause, is only
explaining the phenomenon by itself; whilst the cause of
the tendency is yet unexplained. Nor will Newton’s hy¬
pothesis be found more satisfactory; for if the particles
of a body, after being equally diffused in a fluid, are
brought together by a general attraction, it will follow that
every saline body should crystallize in the same manner.
According to the ingenious theory proposed by Haiiy,
the integrant particles always combine in the same body
in the same way; the same faces and the same edges are
always attracted towards each other. But these faces
and edges are different in different crystals; and hence
originates that variety of forms which different bodies
assuming regular figures by crystallization exhibit. But
why are the same edges and the same faces attracted
in the same way ? Tf is still wants explanation. If it be
ascribed, as some have supposed, to a certain degree of
polarity existing among the particles, it might enable us
to account for the regular figures of bodies produced by
the process of crystallization. For by the effects of this
agent we might suppose that different parts of the particles
of bodies are endowed with different forces, one an attrac¬
tive, and another a repulsive force ; and by the action of
these two forces, the same arrangement of the particles
will uniformly take place ; for when one part of a particle
is attracted, the other will be invariably repelled, and
thus the same faces and edges will always be disposed in
the same way. But it ought to be observed that the ex¬
istence of this power, however satisfactorily it may ac¬
count for the phenomena, has by no means been proved;
and even if its existence were completely established, the
difficulty still remains how this polarity is to be explained.
Without entering further into these speculations, we
propose, in the two following sections, to present otn
readers with a comprehensive view'of the formation and
structure of crystallized bodies. In the first section we
shall treat of the phenomena of crystallization, the means W
of conducting this process to obtain the most perfect crys-
tals, and the modifications of which each of the forms is
susceptible. In the second we shall give a short view of
the theory of the structure of crystals.
SECTION I.
OF THE PHENOMENA OF CRYSTALLIZATION, AND THE MO¬
DIFICATIONS TO WHICH IT IS SUBJECT.
Haliy’s.
The most complete set of observations which has yet
appeared on this branch of practical chemistry has been
made by M. Leblanc; and to his ingenious memoir1 we [
must acknowledge ourselves indebted for much of what
we now lay before our readers on this interesting subject.
The art, he observes, of managing or conducting the
crystallization of salts, is in a great measure new; for it
has hitherto attracted but little attention. To insure Cone; ^
success in obtaining perfect crystals, the process must be
conducted in flat-bottomed vessels; and vessels of glass
or porcelain are found preferable to those of any other
materials for this purpose. The salt employed should be
in a state of purity; and to favour the increase and regular
form of the crystals, they should be placed at a distance
from each other in the vessels containing the solution. To
these necessary precautions, it may be added, that the
vessels in which the evaporation goes on should be at per¬
fect rest; and that it is requisite to observe the density,
or specific gravity at which the solution begins to yield
crystals.
The particles of any saline body cannot come into con¬
tact and form crystals, as long as the force of affinity be¬
tween these particles and the fluid in which they are held
in solution is greater than the mutual affinity oi the par¬
ticles among themselves. A salt, for instance, which be-Prep
gins to crystallize at a certain specific gravity of its solu-tion ae
tion in water, will afford no crystals when that specific*,
gravity is diminished; for then the particles of the salt
are removed to a greater distance from each other; and
while, by this distance, the force of their mutual attrac¬
tion is diminished, the attraction between these particles
and the water in which they are dissolved is increased by
the increase of the quantity of the solvent. But, on the
other hand, if a solution which begins to crystallize at a
certain specific gravity is more concentrated, the crystals
which are thus obtained are greatly multiplied, but they
are heaped together in confused masses, exhibiting no
regular forms. Thus, a solution which has been scarcely
reduced to that degree of concentration at which it be¬
gins to crystallize, being poured while hot into the proper
vessel for carrying on the process, or left at rest in the
same vessel in which the solution is made, to cool slow},
will yield a small number of crystals, which will have no
other defects than such as are occasioned by their contact
with the vessel. Even perfect crystals will sometimes.be
found among the smaller ones. When the concentration
of the solution has not been carried too far, or not further
than what is effected by slow cooling, not only have the
embryo crystals less bulk, but the particles having come
into contact slowly and without confusion, they possess a
greater degree of transparency. After a certain penoti,
which varies according to the species of salt which is su
iected to the operation, small crystals may be distinctly
observed. These are to be carefully detached from eac
other, and placed in a different position. Being placed Dy
Journal de Physique, tome lv. p. 300.
CRYSTALLIZATION.
pj,J this management on a different side, the defects occasion-
men ed by their contact with the vessel are very soon repaired.
From the crystals treated in this way the finest and most
perfect are to be obtained. This operation of changing
the position of the crystal from one side to the other ought
! to be repeated at least once every day, if we wish to ob-
j tain the completest crystals.
At the end of a certain period the small crystals are to be
removed, that the fluid may be more concentrated, either
by a new evaporation, or by dissolving a new portion of
the same salt. After the new solution has cooled, and the
crystals which have formed in it are separated, if it has
been too much concentrated, or too great a portion of salt
has been added, the crystals of the first solution are then
to be introduced and treated in the same way as formerly,
[anag When the crystals have acquired a sufficient volume to
ient o be handled, and to enable us to choose such as we wish
vstal should increase to the largest size, either as simple or com¬
plete crystals, or as exhibiting varieties from position or
particular circumstances, the individual crystals are then
to be separated, and solutions are to be prepared for them,
and brought to such a degree of concentration as to afford
crystals in a mass; which latter being removed, the sin¬
gle crystals are introduced into these solutions, which
are now in a proper state to favour their increase. The
crystals may either be previously disposed in the vessel,
and then the solution may be poured on, or having first
introduced the latter, they may be afterwards distributed
on the bottom of the vessel. And thus by continuing the
same process, by taking care to change frequently the
position of the crystal from one side to the other, and by
keeping up the solution to a proper degree of strength,
we may obtain crystals of any bulk we choose.
When the quantity of particles, which in a certain state
of concentration continue to be mutually attracted, has di¬
minished in consequence of their accumulation on the crys¬
tals which are formed, at a certain stage of this diminu¬
tion the crystals cease to enlarge or increase in bulk; on
the contrary, if they are left in the fluid, it happens that
they begin to dissolve. It is usually on the corners and
angles that this decrease takes place; and in some salts
it seems to go on piecemeal, so as to present distinct lay¬
ers of the particles; for in this case lines parallel to the
sides may be observed, and these are disposed like steps
of stairs. Should the accident which is here alluded to
be allowed to go on too far, it may often require a long
time to repair it; but it is in general easy to avoid this
inconvenience, by watching the progress of the operation
and the increase of the crystals. If their corners or angles
are observed to become less sharp, they must be removed
till the fluid is further concentrated, or they must be in¬
troduced into a new solution of the same salt of the proper
degree of strength. To prepare the new solution for the
increase of the crystals, a quantity of the same salt is to
be dissolved in a given portion of water, so that it shall be
fully saturated. It is then allowed to cool and crystallize.
The crystals being separated, the remaining solution is to
be employed in such quantity as may be judged necessary
to replace that in which the diminution of the crystals had
commenced.
Sometimes it happens, from want of necessary precau¬
tion, that the new solution in which the process is to be
conducted, either being too much saturated, or being dis¬
turbed by pouring from one vessel to another, exhibits
many other points of attraction besides the crystals whose
increase is proposed. In this case a great number of small
crystals make their appearance, and cover the surface of
the former with a kind of incrustation. The small crystals,
provided they are taken in time, may be removed without
injury to the others; if not they will be unavoidably spoiled.
507
W hen the crystals have reached such a size as that Pheno-
they may be placed one by one without being in contact mena.
with each other, we must still continue frequently to
change their position. This may be done with a spatuiajtion^must.1*
a glass rod, or indeed any instrument which will commu-be chang-
nicate nothing to the fluid. In this way the sides of theed.
crystal which are alternately in contact with the bottom of
the vessel will increase in equal proportion, and it will al¬
ways remain complete.
It is chiefly in salts which furnish elongated prisms that
the influence of position may be most distinctly seen. If,
for instance, a crystal, before it has acquired much volume,
be found to rest on one of its bases as well as on one of its
sides, it will be observed to be compressed in the direc¬
tion from base to base; and it will appear to be only a re¬
gular segment of the crystal, which, having been placed on
one of its sides, has obtained a great bulk. If we take a
six-sided prism whose summits are obliquely truncated,
and if it be placed on one of its sides, it will enlarge in a
greater or less degree, but always in such a manner that
the distance from one base to the other shall never be less
than the distance between the sides. But if the position
be on one of its bases, then its principal increase will be
in the direction of the sides, and it will appear to be com¬
pressed between the bases. At first sight a crystal treated
in this way will seem different from the former. For the
corners form the summits of apparent pyramids which are
separated by four-sided prisms. This circumstance af¬
fords a sufficient explanation of one of the causes which
produce varieties in the appearance of a crystal with re¬
gard to its relative extent; it shows that there is no foun¬
dation for the opinion of a supposed balance between the
particles of the salt and that of the solvent; and it shows
also, that if the force of attraction be the efficient cause of
the saline particles coming into contact, the force of gra¬
vitation acts at the same time, and modifies in a greater or
less degree the,effects of the first.
According to these observations, and the different states
in which crystallized substances are found, it has been
supposed that we might conclude that the force of adhe¬
sion between the particles of the salt and those of the sol¬
vent varies according to circumstances, which depend on
the degree of tendency to combination between the bodies,
and the relative weight or bulk of the parts of which
these bodies are composed. If a crystal in the incipient
stage of its increase be placed upon one of its bases, it en¬
larges in the direction of its sides; but if it be reversed
and placed upon one of its sides, it enlarges in the dimen¬
sions of an elongated prism.
An insulated crystal, placed on one of its sides on a
smooth surface, and left undisturbed to enlarge in size,
presents on this part a kind of hollow, which corresponds
exactly with the side which it replaces. Here the saline
particles which cannot reach this surface are distributed
on the neighbouring parts with which they come in con¬
tact ; with this additional circumstance, that the edges of
the surface on which the crystal rests increase in propor¬
tion, but without allowing the liquid to have access to this
surface.
The hollows which are formed at the surface of liquids
differ sometimes from each other even in the same salt.
If we suppose that a particle forms the incipient point of
the hollow, the latter will assume a configuration corre¬
sponding to the side of the particle presented to the sur¬
face of the liquid; but the part which it touches increases
also ; and if by any circumstance a change of position shall
happen, the hollow, thus necessarily formed according to
the arrangement of the part which corresponds exactly
to the surface of the liquid, will change its form, because
the new position of the side presented differs from the first.
CRYSTALLIZATION.
Compound
combina¬
tion.
Crystals
modified
by the so
lution.
When a neutral salt, in a state of purity, and after be¬
ing crystallized, ceases to produce any effect on vegetable
blues, it is not supposed that any of its constituent princi¬
ples is in excess. But if in this state it is found to com¬
bine with other bodies, in such a manner as to produce
solid and well-defined crystals, we must admit that theie
exists an affinity between the salt and the body with which
it has combined. . .
This subject, Leblanc observes of the supra-composition,
or compound combination as it might perhaps be called, of
which several salts are susceptible, has not hitherto occu¬
pied the attention of chemical philosophers. Some, in¬
deed, have been pointed out by Bergman and others; but
it has been remarked that these affinities are piobaby
much more extensive than has commonly been supposed,
not only with regard to neutral salts with each other, but
also to neutral salts with other bodies. Of this kind of com¬
bination is not to be reckoned that of one of the constitu¬
ent parts of a salt being in excess, which frequently takes
place in some salts, and is found to be more or less peima-
nent. This circumstance seems to prove that certain salts
have two different points in the combination of their con¬
stituent parts. Let us see what has been observed in this
respect of the sulphate of alumina, which will perhaps ex¬
plain the reason why this salt is almost always found in
nature in the acidulous state. It is known that the more
that alum approaches to the state of saturation by an ad¬
ditional portion of base, the less solid the new combination
becomes; and in all cases, after a certain time, which is
longer or shorter according to circumstances, the portion
which was added separates. It will perhaps appear in the
sequel, that this tendency to combination which is con¬
stantly in action, producing an immense multitude of dif¬
ferent individuals, resides not only among the propeities
of the simple principles, but also in those which belong to
all the compounds.
Many of the sulphates are always found in the acidu¬
lous state ; and all of them seem to be susceptible of com¬
bination with a new quantity of the same base, till they
reach the point of saturation. For example, the sulphate
of copper, in the state in which it is usually found, crystal¬
lizes in eight-sided oblique prisms, terminated by sides ac¬
cording to the obliquity of the prism. But if anothei por¬
tion of base be added, the crystals assume the form of py¬
ramids of several faces, separated by four-sided prisms.
The acidulous sulphate of zinc gives crystals of six-sided
prisms, which are often very regular; but an addition of
base produces a great change, for then the crystals are in
the rhomboidal form, and very little different from the cube.
Alum, in its ordinary state of combination, crystallizes in
the form of a regular octahedron ; but in the intermediate
proportions between this state and that of saturation it
assumes the form of a cube.
Haliy, as will be afterwards noticed, has demonstrated
that the form of the primitive molecules is the same in all
crystals of the same salt; and he has shown by calculation
that the variations arise from the laws of decrement in the
layers which surround the nucleus ; but that the ordei ac¬
cording to which the secondary forms are produced may
be interrupted whether this form be complete or not; and
the crystal may then, according to circumstances, return
to its primitive form, or to some of those which are de¬
rived from it. But from the experiments of Leblanc, he
thinks that these changes always depend on new condi¬
tions in the state of the fluid, as a different proportion of
the principles of which the salt is composed.
If a crystal of octahedral alum be placed in a solution
which forms cubic crystals of the same salt, the former
will assume the cubic form, by giving up a series of mole¬
cules from the summits of the solid angles, so that the
layers will continue to decrease on the triangular faces till
the crystal has completed its new form. In this process,
the change may be stopped at any period, and crystals of y-v
every modification of form may be obtained. From this
it follows that the centre of each of the faces of the oc¬
tahedron corresponds to a solid angle of the cube in which
it is inscribed. But if a cubical crystal be introduced
into the solution which yields the octahedron, its return to
this latter form proceeds in the same order by the sub¬
traction of a series of molecules from the solid angles of
the cube. It often happens, however, at the same time,
that the subtraction of the molecules extends to the cor¬
ners of the crystal; so that the layers of superposition
decrease all at once according to the order of the forma¬
tion of the octahedron, and the dodecahedron with rhom-
boidal surfaces. This circumstance seems to suggest the
possibility of obtaining crystals of alum of this latter form;
but it seems to depend on a particular proportion, which is
not easily determined.
Thus we learn from experiment that salts which exhibit
different forms of crystals can be made to assume each of
these at pleasure. This phenomenon, which has not been
much attended to, seems to merit particular investigation.
The transition from one form to another may be explained
according to the laws of diminution, by the successive and
regular subtraction of series of molecules; so that the form
being actually obtained, the restoration of the preceding
form is easily explicable on the principle of restitution
alone. It may be observed, that during this kind of meta¬
morphosis, both operations, namely, that by which the
crystal receives on the one hand a new fo.m, and that by
which, on the other hand, it increases on all its sides, con¬
stantly take place. _ ....... ...
The particles of a salt which are in solution in a fluidCr
are attracted by it, particle by particle, without any sepa-d*
ration or decomposition; but it is necessary that there^
should be a balance of the attracting forces between thehei£
salt and the solvent. This is demonstrated by the follow-the
ing experiment: A vessel two feet in height and two
inches in diameter was filled with a solution of a proper
degree of concentration for the growth of crystals, which
were suspended at different heights from the bottom of the
vessel to the surface of the fluid ; and it was observed that
the increase of the crystal was in proportion to its depth
in the vessel, that which was nearest the bottom increasing
most rapidly. When the liquid was deprived of saline par¬
ticles by their accumulation on the crystals, by rest, and
sometimes even by the influence of the atmosphere, the
crystals decreased’' by similar gradations to those of their
increase; so that it at last reached that state when the crys¬
tals near the surface of the liquid were dissolved, whilst
those towards the bottom continued to increase; an
sometimes it happened that the crystals at the bottom o
the vessel continued to increase on the surface which was
in contact with it, whilst the opposite upper surface was
in a state of dissolution. j-ff r
All the experiments which were made on salts ot cutter-
ent degrees of specific gravity accord with this observa
tion; and the difference in the degrees of saturation ot
the waters of the ocean, which depends on the ditterence
of depth, seems to be in favour of this opinion. It is con¬
firmed by the analysis of sea-water by Bergman and others,
which was taken up in different places and at ditterenr
depths. It receives still further confirmation from a prac¬
tice of the inhabitants of Salines, in Bearn, in estimating
the degree of strength of a salt spring. An egg is thrown
into the waters of the spring, and the whole water whi
covers the surface of the egg is thrown away, as it is not
of a sufficient degree of concentration. _
It is well known that a cold temperature is most co -
r'l
Plieti
men:
wo cl
CRYSTALLI Z.A TI O N.
venient for the crystallization of salts. But it is not at
the period when the salt begins to crystallize that it is
most convenient to carry on the process ; for then it some¬
times happens, from too great concentration of the fluid,
that the crystallization is too rapid and confused.
Hitherto saline substances, which are susceptible of re-
509
is fully compensated for his trouble by perceiving the pro- Pheno-
gress of the crystallization, and by the interest which is
excited in all its stages.
niena.
of singular crystallization, have been divided into two classes,
ibstal ■ ~ ~ rl ' vwr f /~i flio ll 1 OV1 f 1 r»c* 1 v\ . 11 ^ i-',.      4- !   £* J 1 *
iome sa
mes
ions at
ract m!
ore.
according to the peculiarities in the formation of their
crystals. The one class comprehends those crystals which
are formed by cooling the fluid in which the solution is
made; the other class includes those which are pro¬
duced only during the evaporation of the solution. This
distinction is no doubt well founded; but there are some
exceptions to it which are necessary to be attended to in
conducting the process of crystallization. If a saline solu¬
tion which is too much saturated be cooled, it furnishes a
mass of crystals which are confused and irregular, and
which present no determinate form except on those sides
which are in contact with the liquid. If in this state the
remaining liquid is poured off, it will yield another set of
crystals, but in very small number; and there are some
salts which continue to form crystals after being several
times successively treated in this way, the number of the
crystals still diminishing from the first degree of concentra¬
tion. It will be found too that this will take place whe¬
ther the process be carried on in the open air or in close
vessels. It follows from this that the increase or the forma¬
tion of crystals in this case depends solely on the mutual
attraction of the particles, or on the attraction between
the particles and the crystal; an attraction or affinity
which is not destroyed by the cooling of the fluid, but is
probably regulated by the distance of the particles, and
the degree of force or affinity which exists between the
particles and the solvent. In some saline solutions the
increase of the crystals goes on in this manner for a long
time. It is only in the interval between the cooling of
the liquid to the temperature of the atmosphere, and that
period when its degree of concentration is so diminished
that the increase of the crystals ceases, that the latter
proceeds with the degree of perfection of which it is sus¬
ceptible.
It is not a property peculiar to dry substances to absorb
moisture from the atmosphere. Liquids saturated with
certain salts seem also to possess this property; for in
some saline solutions the liquids assume a solvent power
which never fails to attack the crystals, and not only to
prevent their increase, but to diminish the bulk which
they had acquired. This accident can only be obviated
by regulating the state of the atmosphere in which the
evaporating vessels are placed, and preserving it free from
any excess of moisture. From causes which produce a
contrary effect, the evaporation becomes too rapid: this
circumstance also requires to be attended to and proper¬
ly regulated to insure the full success of the operation.
From the preceding observations it will appear that solu¬
tions of salts which are susceptible of crystallization have
certain degrees of concentration which are necessary for
the formation of crystals, and that they must be reduced
nearly to that degree in which they begin to yield crys¬
tals before it can be expected that they will afford proper
results. It is therefore necessary to attend particularly to
the degree of concentration which each salt requires for the
regular formation of its crystals, and to obtain them with
that degree of transparency of which they are susceptible.
We have seen that in the formation of crystals they may
be removed from one vessel to another, and from one so¬
lution to another; and that, in proportion to the slowness
of the process, they become more beautiful and more per¬
fect. These operations, it may be added, require much
patience and attention ; but at the same time the observer
It is essential to know that neither the crystals formed
during the artificial evaporation, nor those which are pro¬
duced during the cooling of the solution, are proper to be
made choice of for being increased and brought forward
to the most perfect crystals. When a solution has become
cold, that is to say, when it has acquired the temperature
of the atmosphere, and is deprived of the excess of sa¬
line particles which it held in combination during its in¬
crease of temperature, it is still in a condition To yield
crystals, and, as long as the distances between the parti¬
cles are not too great, to allow of mutual attraction. A
solution saturated to excess affords on cooling a confused
mass of crystals; but after the fluid has been poured off,
it will still produce more crystals, though in smaller num¬
ber. The degree of concentration of the solution before
it yielded the last product may be considered as the term
of saturation most proper to be employed for the species
of salt which is thus treated. But by the repetition of
these operations, and the observation of their progress, it
will not be difficult to discover the proper proportions be¬
tween the salt and the solvent.
It seems to be a mistake to suppose with some that the
crystals which are placed in favourable circumstances for
becoming larger and more perfect are injured by coming in
contact with each other during their increase. It is un¬
doubtedly better that they should be kept separate; but
it does not appear that they are hurt by touching each
other, if the number in the vessel be not too great, and
they are not heaped or pressed together. In that crys¬
tallization which results from the cooling of a solution too
much saturated, the crystals are always confused and in¬
terlaced with each other; the molecules which are ar¬
ranged in this kind of disorder also experience a kind of
irregular distribution; and it may be observed that in this
case the summits only of the crystals which are elevated
from the kind of cake which is formed on the surfaces of
the vessel containing the solution, present regular and de¬
terminate forms. The mass in which these crystals are
implanted is a confused heap.
No cavities have been observed on the faces of crystals Cavities on
excepting those which are formed on the surface of fluids, crystals.
Those which are produced on that side of a crystal which
rests on the bottom of the vessel are more common in other
salts. This phenomenon seems to merit more attention
than has yet been bestowed upon it, as it explains easily the
introduction of extraneous bodies which are sometimes de¬
tected in the interior of crystals. For when a cavity of this
kind has acquired a certain depth, it is capable of receiv¬
ing part of any foreign substance, and of being filled up by
the change of position of the same crystal, retaining at
the same time the extraneous matter. By a little art and
dexterity these fortuitous circumstances may be favoured,
so that phenomena exhibited by such occurrences may be
traced and observed at the pleasure of the operator. Ex¬
periments have been made with the view of ascertaining
whether an extraneous substance could be substituted as
the nucleus of a crystal; but from the result of these ex¬
periments it does not appear that the particles of any salt
have a tendency to combine with any foreign matter, and
to form regular crystals. The portions of the salt which
were attached to the extraneous substance were always
separate and independent crystals.
There are some saline substances which retain in their
solution an excess of particles even after cooling, and
which being strongly agitated, instantly deposit so great a
number of small crystals as to render the solution tur¬
bid. The introduction of crystals of the same salt, it is
CRYSTALLIZATION.
assuming the solid form. On this principle Robinet has h<
attempted to account for the formation of dendrites, or the
arborescent appearance and efflorescence of some salts. W
Almost all the different appearances of fucus or sea-weed,
he observes, are covered in drying with an efflorescence
of white matter. In some species this white matter was
observed to possess a saccharine quality. A number of
large roots of the fttcus palmatus was hung up in the
well known, as in the case of a solution of Glauber’s salt,
promotes this sudden crystallization or separation of the
excess of the salt. If in this state of the solution crystals
are immersed with the view’- of having them large and re¬
gular, they are certain of being spoiled by the accumula¬
tion of a great number of small'crystals on their surface,
unless, when this happens, the precaution of immediately
washing them with pure water is observed. 1 had/and ten days had elapsed without the appearance
It may be remarked also, that when the soWi is d - shade, and ten P ^ ^ period ^ became
minished below a certain degree of saturation, the crpta J S ^ goon covered wit|1 a ihM downy sub¬
net only cease to increase, but are also again in , stanCg the filaments of which gradually increased to a
sure dissolved—the corners and ang es rec u considerable length. When this downy matter was brushed
CTMSMtelSM off'with a feather, it was renewed tilHlie^plants were com-
supernumerary faces and truncatures, as they are deno
minated in technical language, are formed on the rounded
corners and angles. But these faces always disappear as
the increase of the crystals proceeds, and are replaced by
corners and angles, which become at last sharp and dis-
By attention to preserve the solutions of salt in perfect
purity, we shall be more certain of obtaining the most
beautiful and transparent crystals. Some fluids, after a
certain time, are observed to deposit substances which
are foreign to the salt held in solution, and were dissolved
along with it. These substances sometimes appear in the
form of earthy matters, which precipitate to the bottom
of the vessel; in other cases they are diffused in the form
of flakes, and sometimes they rise and swim on the sur¬
face. In all these cases the crystals whose formation and
increase are going forward must be removed, and the li¬
quor must be filtrated before they are replaced.
Variations A saline substance which is capable of crystallization
in crystals, possesses, in the state of minute division in which it is in
solution, or in the condition of the molecules which com- J;"1'In nroporflon as this surface is dried by the sur-
pose it, a determinate property which is uniform and con- ’• . it would appear that this is the process
stant, and in which resides essent.ahy thepowerofum g ^ ^ of a]1 ^ and massy bodies. Now,
in a certain symmetrical manner, and thus construct g matter which in the present case, is in the state
regular solids/The results also are uniform and consent ^ sahne r^Uer wh.ctu of attraction on
when the the liquid, the ludiments of each filament constitute, at
A . • *  : A.  X X- ^ wr Ia 1 /V YYl ACJG
LI 1 C/I 5 I L vv £   
pletely dry. This substance, it appeared on examination,
was of a saccharine nature, mixed with a small portion of
common salt and a great quantity of mucilaginous mat-
ter. By solution and crystallization, the sugar was sepa¬
rated from the other substances.
In comparing the circumstances of this efflorescence
with those of the formation of the pellicle, in the progress
of evaporation, the former seems to be a modification of
the latter. In a vessel which contains a liquid saturated
with a salt, the surface subjected to evaporation has no
sooner assumed a solid form, than the surface immediately
inferior is exposed to the action of the same causes, and
produces the same effect; and this effect continues till
the crust has become so thick or so compact, as to pre¬
vent the contact of air, and then the evaporation ceases.
But, on the contrary, in the fucus, the air acting only on
the surface of the plant, the liquid which it contains can¬
not undergo the process of evaporation without coming to
the surface. The attraction of the matter of the plant
tends to promote this motion; for as the liquid is equally
diffused throughout its whole mass, it rises constantly to
when the process is careiuuy conuLictcu, uui, - — , diments 0f eacb filament constitute, at
sary to distinguish .with accuracy the circumstances which he hquid, of the wbole mass or
accompany the operation, and may occasion a deviation instant ot the r to^a“on^ therefore, of the
from ,L iniformity. The sulphate of S for msu|ce, body of Ae P^nt. ^They parttc.pa^, ^ h on
sssS Sy u;7ron and cr5'sta,'ization of
not on that account belong less to the octahedral form; of Mime “ be wh4 eFxle„ds to the
but it seems probable that these different varieties, in the "f »"• The whole s“l'ne "’nasrs;(lescen(ls externally, is
forms of crystals, depend on some changes "hlch constantly in the humid state as long as any liquid remain,
in the solutions themselves. The iron in the Pres^ca . , ve^el> It ma be SUpp0sed that the matter of the
is constantly receiving new portions of oxygen from t e f , i dptprm;nes bv its attraction, theexter-
atmosphere, and in this new combination it is precipita et *i e surface of the liquid to rise above the
• the1 fluid; this, therefore, occasions a change m the ^L^In ththls sufficiently obvious,espe-
in
constituents of the salt. _
Several sulphates are found to combine readily with
each other: those of iron and copper are of this descrip¬
tion, and the result of the compound crystal is always a
rhomboid. It seems to be doubtful whether this should
be considered as a case of simple interposition of one salt
with the other. . „ .
When a liquid which holds saline bodies in solution is
pvannrated to a certain degree, a crust forms on the sur- «.u •*«« —   _no
face, acquires a certain thickness, and when this is remo- downy matter on which seemsFi
ved it is renewed. The point at which the liquid exhi- There is yet another kind of f f efflores.cen-
bits this appearance is known in chemistry by the appel- to depend on the same cause, _ ^ ^ surfaGe 0f
Formation lation of evaporation to a pellicle. When it has reached d |n SUch quantity as to become
of den- this point, the solution is in a state of complete satura- g ’ ‘ nhi^rt of manufacture. Without extending
drites. tion . and the smallest additional quantity of fluid cannot an importan j efflorescence of soda on the surface
be withdrawn without a corresponding quantity of salt our observations to the efflorescence ot soua o
surface ; a phenomenon which is sufficiently obvious, espe¬
cially in narrow vessels. This portion of liquid, w c
is more completely subjected to evaporation, gives ongm
to a circle of saline matter, which appears thus raised
above the surface of the liquid, and which being e
rudiments of the dendrites, contributes afterwards to i
increase in the way which has been already exP '
Thus the vegetation of salts bears a striking resemblance
to the process of efflorescence, or the formation ot tne
^I!
men
of the soil in Egypt, or that of nitre in Asiatic countries,
we may refer to the production of muriate of soda, or com¬
mon salt, in different parts of Europe, and in those places
which are covered with the waters of the ocean during
high tides. The waters of the sea, with which the sandy
shores are twice periodically moistened in the course of a
month, are far distant from the point of saturation which
determines crystallization. They rarely contain more than
three parts of salt in a hundred; and the sand, at the degree
of moisture in which it is left by the sea, is not impregnated
with a sufficient quantity of saline matter to be worthy the
labour of manufacturing; but during the interval between
the tides these circumstances are greatly changed. The
dry air of summer, by evaporating the moisture on the
surface, allows the matter of the sand to attract towards
the surface a similar portion of water, which was in the
lower part of the soil, and which always tends to diffuse
itself equally through the whole mass. This liquid, carry¬
ing with it the salt, which it holds in solution, increases
the quantity of saline matter which exists on the surface;
and the process continues without interruption as long as
there is no fall of rain. It reaches at last a certain point,
at which the water subjected to evaporation is saturated
with the salt; and this process cannot proceed further
without the deposition of crystals of the salt, which dis¬
cover themselves by their shining appearance. After
some days the sand on the surface is collected, and about
six times the quantity of saline matter is found in the
same proportion of sand that it contained when it was first
moistened by the sea water.1
rust o Another phenomenon which takes place during the pro-
lebotmcess of artificial evaporation should not pass unnoticed,
fvesst This is the formation of a saline crust at the bottom of the
vessels in which the process is conducted. This seems to be
the immediate effect of ebullition; for when the tempera¬
ture of the liquid is kept under the boiling point, no such
effect is produced. This crust is composed of all the sa¬
line substances which are held in solution in the liquid;
and even these substances are found combined in the same
proportion in which they actually exist in the solution.
Whatever be the attraction of these substances for water,
or whether they even possess a deliquescent property, they
are not the less disposed to enter into combination during
the formation of the solid crust on the bottom of vessels
in which the process of evaporation is conducted with a
temperature equal to the boiling point. A slight degree
of attention will satisfy us that the formation of this crust
depends on the particular circumstances of the evapora¬
tion in the case of ebullition. It must be obvious, that in
this case the stratum of liquid which is in immediate con¬
tact with the vessel receives the caloric which penetrates
Us sides, is charged with it beyond its capacity, changes
its state, and assumes the gaseous form, and by this change
having entirely lost its solvent power, whatever saline
matter is held in solution must assume the solid state in
wjth the sides of the vessel, and consequently
| adhere to it. Thus it happens, according to a very judi¬
cious observation, that in different saline solutions, the
.esults of which have been compared, these scales or
CRYSTALLIZATION.
511
crusts are more abundant in proportion as the degree of Structure
saturation is diminished.2 of Crystals.
SECTION II.
OF THE THEORY OF THE STRUCTURE OF CRYSTALS.
In the former section we have given a view of the phe¬
nomena of crystallization. The regular forms which bodies
assume by means of this process, have occupied no small
share of the attention of naturalists and chemical philoso¬
phers. The researches and investigations of Bergman,
Rome de ITsle, and Haiiy, have been particularly directed
this way. Bergman, in his twelfth Dissertation,3 treats of
the variety of the forms of crystals, of the various figures
derived from the spathaceous form, of the structure of the
most minute parts, and of the different modes in which
crystals are generated. Rome de ITsle has arranged
crystals into six species, derived from the varieties of
form : 1. Tetrahedron ; 2. Cube ; 3. Octahedron ; 4. Pa¬
rallelepiped ; 5. Rhomboidal octahedron ; 6. Dodecahe¬
dron. But the ingenious researches of Haiiy on this sub¬
ject have been followed by the completest and most suc¬
cessful investigation of the theory of the structure of crys¬
tals which has yet appeared. Of this theory, an account
of which the reader will find in the Annales de Chimie,
tome xvii. and in his Traite de Mineralogies tome i. we now
propose to give a comprehensive view.
This theory, the author observes, cannot be fully un¬
derstood without the aid of analytical calculations ; for,
besides the convenience of analysis, including in the same
formula a great number of different problems, it is by
means of it alone that the theory can assume the charac¬
ter of absolute certainty in arriving at the same results
which are obtained by observation. But notwithstanding
these considerations, it seemed to be better for those who
have not a competent knowledge of the science of calcula¬
tion to prefer the method of simple reasoning, but accom¬
panied with geometrical figures, which are so useful in
giving a distinct conception of the arrangement of the
small solids which combine together to form a crystal.
This arrangement is denominated structure, in opposition
to the term organization, which expresses the more com¬
plicated mechanism of vegetables and animals. This me¬
thod may perhaps be less direct, and less precise and ex¬
peditious, and it may require attention to those details
which are passed over in the analytical method to reach its
object more speedily; it has, however, this advantage, that
the mind by its means perceives better the connection
of the different; parts under consideration, and can more
readily comprehend the facts with which it is furnished.
I. MECHANICAL DIVISION OF CRYSTALS.
The same mineral substance, it is known, is susceptible
of several different forms, well defined, some of which do
not appear, at first sight, to have any common point of
resemblance to indicate their relation. If, for instance,
we compare the regular hexahedral prism of calcareous
spar with the rhomboid of the same mineral,4 whose
are SjSTwHh X man<ufact’4.r*d in this way on the sandy shores of the Solway Frith, in Annandale in Scotland. These flat shores
and the Snn fi6 erS °f the.^ean during spring tides ; and in the interval of these tides the evaporation by the heat of the sun
5and i,npreg"“ieda <iuan,% °f saJt sufflcient to defra*the
4 The^namp^f^^/, , ilw eailO^ 3 Physical and Chemical Essays. V”
every i ^ 18 ^ ^ the aVth°r to a Pa™helopiped a, c (fig. 4), terminated by six equal and similar rhombuses. In
each of the <iv ]Wi° °* .s°i1( an5fs’ suc,h as a' e\ opposed to each other, are formed by the junction of three equal plane angles;
measure hut pn i an^e® 1S t°rmed by- a plane angle equal to each of the three preceding, and by two other angles of a different
which comrvwpTn1 t0 atlier' .-rhe P011113 are the summits, the line ae is the axis. In any one of the rhombuses ah, df
mpose the surface, the angle a, contiguous to the summit, is called the superior angle, the angle d the inferior angle, and
512
CRYSTALLIZATION.
Structure ,arge anf,e is about 101*-, we should be led to believe ^ etL&prijrattVLT'a
uotice rhomboid ae (fig 4) j-dy smular ,o that which is cor, W
when we consider only the external ’"“a/unexpectcd a result led^the ingenious author to the
sible when we attend to the intima e r - < examination of other calcareous crystals in a similar man-
structure Here the author gives an htstor cal v.ew of the ““XTwhich yielded to mechanical division in such
S^the discovery of whaT became as it Jere the key a way that when ^the external surfaces had disappeared,
of his whole theory.
He had in his hand a hexahedral prism of calcareous
spar, similar to that mentioned above, and which had been
detached from a group of the same crystals. The frac¬
ture presented a very smopth surface, situated obliquely,
ii x :  and wLipb bad an ansle
a Wcry biltiu YYllCll    rr™v,vAj
the nucleus which remained was always a rhomboid, of
the same form as the first. All that was necessary was to
discover the direction of the sections which conducted to
the central rhomboid.
To extract, for instance, this rhomboid from the spar
T * 1 *           11 -1 i 4- 'i 11 f\ it 1 it T Cl 1 Y
ture presented a ve-y smoptn surmce s tuaieu denominated lenticular, and which is it
“ SlfS S e SiS’er ISof ?he base! a°nd self a much „Je obtuse rhomboid, having its large plane
of 13o , both with the rema P nh«prvinp- that anele equal to 114° 18' 56", it was necessary to begin with
with the remainder tuef o e P f-f separat- the two vertices, and to make the sections pass through
ed^ronTtlre^m^alfhadlforTts'vertexon^o^the edge^Tof the small diagonals of the face. But if it is wished, on
the baTe nameW the edge ^ he attempted to separate a the contrary, to get at the nucleus of the rhomboidal spar
the base, namely me e t, ^ contI rus ed e witll acute vertices, the direction of the sections of the
second segment in P he em loyed the blade of planes must be parallel to the edges contiguous to the
rknife,"directed with the same degree of obliquity as the summits, and in such a manner that euch of them shall
trapezium psut, and aided by the stroke of a hammer. This be equally inclined to the faces which it cuts.
attemptfeS but having7 tried the same operation to- These results are the more worthy of attention, as it
wards^the next edge be, a new trapezium similar to the would seem at first that in the process of crystallization,
first came into view8 The fourth edge ah resisted the in- after the rhomboid has been once adopted with regard to
strument, but the following, ah, readily yielded to mecha- a determined species of mineral, it ought always to re-
nical division, and presented a third trapezium, having as produce it with the same angles. But the paradox which
fine a polish as the other two. The sixth edge ih, it is arises from this diversity of appearance is explained by
scarcely necessary to observe, could not be divided, any the double usb of the rhomboidal form, which serves here
more than the fourth and the second. * to disguise itself, apd conceals fixed and constant charac
Proceeding then to the inferior base defgkr, it was soon ters under a variable external appealance.
found that the edges of this base, which admitted of divi- If we take a crysta of a different nature, such as a
sions similar to the preceding, were not the edges ef, dr, offluor spar, the nucleus will have a different form. This
ah which corresponded to those which could be divided will be, in the present case, an octahedron, wine J e s ^
towards the upper part, but the intermediate edges obtain by taking off the eight solid angles o t ie cu e.
qf. The trapezium Iqyv shows the section made below Heavy spar will produce for a nucleus a right prism with
the edge hr. ? This section is obviously parallel to that of rhomboidal bases ; feldspar, an oblique-angled paralle o-
the trapezium psut; and the four other sections are in piped, but not rhomboidal; apatite or a ng t -
like manner parallel, two and two. Now, these different sided prism; the adamantine spar a rho™b?id» a htt e
sections being in the direction of the natural joints of the acute; blende, a dodecahedron, with rhomboidal p an ,
laminae, it was easy to obtain others parallel to each of iron of the island of Elba, a cube, &c.: and eac o
them, but it was found impossible to divide the crystal in forms will be constant in relation to the whote spec e ,
any other direction. Following this mechanical division
according to the parallelism stated above, new sections
were obtained, always nearer to the axis of the prism;
and when the sections were carried so far as to make the
remainder of the two bases disappear, the prism was trans¬
formed into a solid OX (fig. 2), terminated by twelve pen¬
tagons, parallel two to two, of which those of the extre¬
mities, namely, SAOIR, GIODE, BAODC, on the one
side, and KNPQF, MNPXU, ZQPXY, on the other, were
the results of the mechanical division, and had their com¬
mon vertices O, P, situated in the centres of the bases of «—  -
the prism, fig. 1. The six lateral pentagons RSUXY, to discover the natural joints have faded, it has been
ZYRIG, &c. (fig. 2), were the remainders of the planes remarked that their surface striated in a certain ilirec-
of the same prism. tion, or the relation of their different forms, among thos
In proportion as the sections were multiplied always which belong to the same substance, nequent y pres
parallel to the preceding, the lateral pentagons diminish- ed indications of their structure, and by reasoning ro
ed in height; and at a certain term the points R, G being their analogy with other divisible crystals, we may
confounded with the points Y, Z, the points S, R with termine this structure, at least with a good deal ot prooa-
the points U, Y, &c. there remained no more of these
pentagons, but the triangles YIZ, UXY, &c. (fig. 3.) Be¬
yond that term the sections coming to pass over the sur¬
face of these triangles diminished gradually in extent, till
luiiua win uc *** *    r
that its angles will undergo no variation which is appre¬
ciable ; and if we attempt to divide the crystal in any
other direction, we shall not be able to find any joint; we
shall only obtain indeterminate fragments; it will rather
be broken than divided.
These solids inscribed each in all the crystals of the
same species, ought to be regarded as the true primitive
forms on which all the other forms depend. All minerals,
it is true, are not susceptible of mechanical division, but
the number is greater than it appeared at first sight;
and with regard to those crystals in which the attempts
bility.
All deviations from the primitive form are called by
Haiiy secondary farms. But the number of these forms
has certain limits, which can be determined by theory,
the angles 5 and/are the lateral angles. The sides al, af, are the superior edges, and the sides Id, df, the inferior edges =
horizontal diagonal, and ad the oblique diagonal. The rhomboid is obtuse or acute, according as the angles of the summits
or acute. The cube is the limit of the rhomboids.
C ^
CRYSTALLIZATION.
according to the laws which regulate the structure of
• crystals.
‘The solid of the primitive form, which is obtained by
means of the operation described above, may be further
subdivided in a direction parallel to its different faces.
All the surrounding matter is equally divisible by sections
parallel to the faces of the primitive form. Hence it fol¬
lows, that the parts detached by the aid of all these sec¬
tions are similar, and only differ in their volume, which
continually decreases in proportion to the extent of the
division. Those, however, must be excepted, which are
near to the faces of the secondary solid; for these faces
not being parallel to those of the primitive form, the frag¬
ments which have one of their facets taken in the same
faces, cannot exactly resemble those which are detached
towards the middle of the crystal. For instance, the
fragments of the hexahedral prism (fig. 1), whose exter¬
nal facets make part of the bases, or of the planes, have
not, in this respect, the same figure with those which are
situated nearer to the centre, all of whose facets are pa¬
rallel to the sections psut, Iqyv ; but the difficulty which
presents itself at first sight, in consequence of that diver¬
sity, is removed by the help of the theory, and the whole
are reduced to a unity of form.
But the division of the crystal into small similar solids
has a certain limit, beyond which we should arrive at par¬
ticles so small that they are no longer divisible, without
destroying the nature of the substance, or decomposing it.
At this term the investigation stops, and to the small so¬
lids, which we might insulate if our organs and instruments
were sufficiently delicate, Haiiyhas given the name of m-
tegrant or integral molecules. He thinks it probable that
these molecules are those which were suspended in the
fluid in which the crystallization took place. In general
it may be observed that, with the aid of these molecules,
the theory reduces to simple laws the different forms of
crystals, and arrives at results which exactly represent
those of nature.
When the nucleus is a parallelopiped, that is, a solid
having six parallel faces, two to two, like the cube, the
rhomboid, &c. and this solid admits of no other divisions
than those which are made in the direction of its faces, it
is obvious that the molecules which result from the sub¬
division, whether of the nucleus or of the surrounding mat¬
ter, are similar to this nucleus. In other cases, the form
of the molecules is different from that of the nucleus.
There are, besides, other crystals which afford, by means
of mechanical division, particles of different figures com¬
bined together through the whole extent of these crystals.
The ingenious author of the theory has thrown out some
conjectures on the manner of resolving the difficulty which
these kinds of mixed structures present; and at any rate,
he observes that it does not in any degree affect the sta¬
bility of the theory.
II. LAWS OF DECREMENT.
1. Decrements at the Edges.
The primitive form, and that of the integrant molecules,
being determined, after the dissection of the crystals, we
must investigate the laws according to which these mole¬
cules were combined, to produce around the primitive
|orm those kinds of coverings which terminated so regu¬
larly, and from which resulted polybedra so different from
^ach other, although originally of the same substance.
such is the mechanism of the structure subject to
these laws, that all the parts of the secondary crystal su-
peradded to the nucleus are formed of laminae, which de¬
cease regularly by subtractions of one or more ranges of
integral molecules, so that theory determines the number
vol. VII.
513
of these rows, and by a necessary consequence the exact Structure
form of the secondary crystal. of Crystals.
. To have a distinct idea of these laws, let us take a very
simple and elementary example. Conceive EP (fig. 5)
to represent a dodecahedron whose faces are equal and
similar rhombuses, and that this dodecahedron is a secon-
daiy form, having a cube for its nucleus or primitive form
by the inspection of fig. 6, the position of this cube in
Sp C^ta^%i?e easily conceived. The small diagonals
uc, CH, CF, hi) of the four faces of the dodecahedron
r°,Und the Same S°lid anS,e’ form a square
CJJJr(jr. Mow there are six solid angles, composed of the
four planes, namely, the angles L, O, E, N, II, P (fig. 5),
and consequently, if sections are made to pass through the
small diagonals of the faces which compose the solid an¬
gles, six squares will be successively uncovered. These
squares will be the faces of the primitive cube, of which
three are represented at fig. 6, namely, CDFG, ABCD,
BCGH.
This cube would evidently be an assemblage of cubic in¬
tegral molecules, and it would be necessary that each of
the pyramids, such as LDCGF (fig. 6), which rest on the
faces, should be itself composed of cubes equal to each
other, and to those which form the nucleus. To have a
more distinct conception of this arrangement, let us com¬
pose an artificial dodecahedron of a certain number of
small cubes, the arrangement of which will be an imitation
of the process of nature in disposing the molecules in the
formation of the dodecahedron.
Let ABGF (fig. 7) be a cube composed of 729 small
cubes equal to each other, in which case each face of the
whole cube will include eighty-one squares, that is, nine
on each side, which will be the external faces of as many
partial cubes representing the molecules. This cube will
be the nucleus of the dodecahedron which is to be con¬
structed. On one of the faces, as ABCD, of the cube,
apply a square lamina, composed of cubes equal to those
which form the nucleus, but having towards each a row of
cubes less than if it were on a level with the contiguous
faces BCGH, DCGF, &c. This lamina will be composed
of forty-nine cubes, that is, seven on each side, so that if
the inferior base be onfg (fig. 8), this base will fall ex¬
actly on the square marked with the same letters in fig.
7. Above this first lamina let a second be applied, com¬
posed of twenty-five cubes, five on each side, so that if
Impu (fig. 9) represent its inferior base, this base will
correspond exactly with the square marked with the same
letters in fig. 7. If in like manner a third lamina be ap¬
plied to the second, which is composed only of nine cubes,
that is, three on each side, so that vxyz (fig. 10), being the
inferior base, shall correspond with the square marked
with the same letters in fig. 7; and if on the middle
square r of the preceding lamina the small cube r (fig. 11)
be placed, this will represent the last lamina.
When this operation is completed, it will appear that
there is formed on the face ABCD (fig. 7) a four-sided
pyramid, of which this face is the base, and the cube r
(fig. 11) is the summit. And if the same operation be con¬
tinued on the other five sides of the cube, we shall have
six four-sided pyramids resting on the six faces of the
nucleus, which is enveloped with them on all sides. But
as the different rows of laminae composing these pyramids
project beyond each other for a certain way, as appears
on fig. 12, where the parts raised above the planes BCD,
BCG represent the two pyramids which rest on the faces
ABCD, BCGH (fig. 7), the faces of the pyramids will
not form continued planes; for they will be alternately
re-entering and salient, in some measure imitating a stair
with four sides.
Let us now suppose that the nucleus is coinposed of a
3 T
514
CRYSTALLIZATION.
~ !r mES rt fL:t ™wr;Sa
OtrilCLUIC V/X  X 1 » ^ ^7,
ofCrystals-er, and that the laminae applied on the ditterent laces,
s-”V'w' which may be called the laminae of superposition, continue
to increase towards their four edges by subtractions of one
range of cubes equal to those of the nucleus, the number
of these laminae will be incomparably greater than in the
preceding hypothesis; and at the same time the cavities
ways; that is, by the subtraction of two rows parallel todd
the edges AB, CD (fig. 7), and of one row parallel to S
the edges AB, BC. Let it be supposed also that each la¬
mina being only equal in thickness to a small cube of the
side AB and CD, is, on the contrary, equal to double the
thickness of the side AD and BC. Fig. 14 represents this
rfarowSs^
salient or re-entering,” w'll l^ al™(J^ ^es^of whfch the comit of the more rapid decrease in proceeding from DC
indeed it might be supposed t < . imper- or AB, than from BC or AD, the faces produced in the
crysta is composed are so Hamids to be first case will be more inclined to the plane ABCD, while
ceptible to our senses, and the face I) tlle faces produced in the second will remain as it were
Pe^nw DCBFfL 12) being the pyramid which rests on behind, so that the pyramid will no longer be terminated
Now D^E (fig- 12) being t py^ 12) the by a singie cube E, as in fig. 12, which, on account of its
the face ABCD (fig. 7), an {g .f ^ con^[der minuteness, seems to be only a point, but by the row of
mid applied to the face BCG ( g- )> h b /f;g. 14) which, supposing these cubes to be
that every thmg -a umform from f O (flf. m the cubes 8ffl >h/P fa„ce of a si ,c
manner m wh.ch he f th/t ridge. By a necesskry consequence, the pyramid will
exactly in hafe for i.I faces two trapeziums, such _as DMNC,_resuIt.
the same plane as the face COB of the contiguous pyia-
mid, so that the union of these two faces should form a
rhombus ECOB. But we have, for the six pyramids,
twenty-four triangles similar to CEB, which consequently
will be reduced to twelve rhombuses, from which results
a dodecahedron similar to what is represented in fig. 5
^The cube, before it arrives at the form of the dodeca¬
hedron, passes through a multitude of intermediate mo-
* difications, of which one is shown at fig. 13. The squares
paeo, klqu, mnts, &c. correspond to the squares ABCD,
DCGF, CBHG, &c. (fig. 6), and form the superior basis
ing from the first decrement, and two isosceles triangles,
such as CNB, which will be the effect of the second de¬
crement.1
Let us suppose further, that with regard to the laminae
of superposition, which arise on the face BCGH (fig. 7),
the decrements follow the same laws, but in cross direc¬
tions ; in such a way that the more rapid of the two may
take place in proceeding from BC, or from GH, towards
the vertex of the pyramid, and the slower decrement in
proceeding from CG, or BH, towards the same vertex.
The pyramid which results from these decrements will be
placed in a direction opposite to that which rests on ABCD,
of “ma^y wil1 tho position represented at fig. 17, where
tlaS with which they ought to terminate. The the edge KL, wh.ch
rhombuses EDLC, ECOB (fig. 5), by a necessary con- being parallel to CD, like the edge MM (hg. a j,
seauence are reduced to simple hexagons as C Ik D, eo B is, on the contrary, parallel to BC. We shall then conceive
JC (fig. 13), and the surface of the secondary crystal is what is to be done, that the pyramid which will rest on
composed of twelve of these hexagons and six squares.
This is the case with the boracic spar (the borate of mag¬
nesia and lime), with the exception of some facets which
surmount the solid angles, and which depend on a differ¬
ent law of decrement.
(fig-^m^rkintinuity with those from which re*
had had on its circumference two, three, or four rows of the trapezium CBKL (fig. 17), these ^ figures wi
cubes less than the inferior lamina, the pyramids produced in the same plane, and will form a pentagon CNBKL (fig.
on the nucleus by this diminution being more depressed, 18). For the same reason the tria^e DPC ^ 16) ^
and their contiguous faces being no longer on a level, the be on a level with the trapezium DxL C ( g. ), >
surface of the secondary solid would have been composed by applying the same reasoning to *' fj;er pyramids, d
of twenty-four isosceles triangles, all inclined to each will be conceived that the six pyramds haying for their
other. Decrement on the edges is that which takes place
parallel to the edges of the nucleus, and it ought to be
distinguished from another kind of decrease, to be after¬
wards mentioned.
Wlldt Id LU UX J -   
DC, GF (fig. 7) may be turned as it is represented in
fig. 16, and may have its terminating edge PR parallel to
CG (fig. 7). The pyramids which will rest on three other
faces of the cube will stand like that which arises on the
opposite face. .
But as the decrements which produce the triangle LNU
whole faces twelve trapeziums and twelve triangles, the
surface of the secondary solid will be composed of twelve
pentagons, which will correspond to the twelve rhombuses
of fig. 5, but with this difference, that they will have other
inclinations. This solid is represented at fig. 19, and with
its cubic nucleus at fig. 20, where it may be seen how to
proceed in the extraction of this nucleus. If, tor exam¬
ple, a section be made passing through the points D, G
G, F, the pyramid which rests on the face DCGl of the
nucleus will be detached, and by this section the latter
2. Examples of Decrease on the Edges.
Iron Pyrites, or Dodecahedral Sulphuret of Iron.
Geometric Character.—Inclination of any one of the penta¬
gons, as DPRFS (fig. 19), to the pentagon CPRGL, 1Ju^uo   
which has the same base PR, 126° 56' 8". Angles of wjp be uncovered,
the pentagon CPRGL, L = 121° 35' 17"; C or G = 106° Among the crystals belonging to the sulphuret o iron,
35' 57" 30"'; P or R = 102° 36' 19". or tbe arseniate of cobalt, there is found a dodecahedron,
Let us conceive again a cubic nucleus, whose different having the faces equal and similar pentegons, an aving
edges are lines of departure to the same number of decre- for its nucleus a cube m the position ab
1 Here the face which corresponds to ABCD (fig. 7) has twenty-five squares on each side, as ^IT^Sented iJthelame
ture of this pyramid may be imitated artificially, by regulating the arrangement and number of the cubes represente
figure.
CRYSTALLIZATION.
Jtruc
fCry
be gut there are an infinite number of possible dodecahedra,
p which may have for faces equal and similar pentagons,
^ and differ from each other by the respective inclinations
of their faces. Of all these dodecahedra, the one whose
structure would be subjected to these laws gives 126°
56' 8" as the angle formed by the inclination of any two
of its faces DPRFS, CPIIGL (fig. 19) at the edge of
junction PR, as might be shown by calculation. Some
mineralogists, overlooking the use of geometry in the con¬
sideration of crystals, have confounded the dodecahedron
of pyrites with the same regular geometrical figure in
which all the sides and angles of each pentagon are equal;
but there is a striking difference between these two dode¬
cahedra. The regular dodecahedron gives only 116° 33'
54" as the inclination of its respective pentagons, making
a difference of nearly 11£° between it and the other. And
indeed the regular dodecahedron cannot be produced by
any law of decrement whatsoever, however compound it
may be supposed, in regard to a cubic nucleus, and, as
may be demonstrated generally, for a nucleus of any form.
There are then two kinds of dodecahedra, one whose
faces are rhombuses, and another whose faces are penta¬
gons, produced upon a cubical nucleus, in consequence of
two simple and regular laws of decrement, in a direction
parallel to the edges of the nucleus. By varying these
laws in different other ways, a multitude of new polyhe-
dra having the same nucleus may be constructed.
Obtuse or Lenticular Calcareous Spar (fig. 22).
Geometric Character.—Inclination of the rhombus nad'b',
to the rhombus aif’dJ, 134° 25' 36". Angles of the
rhombus nad'b'; a or 5' = 114° 18' 56" ; n ox d' — 65°
41' 4'.
This variety arises from a decrement by a single row
on both sides of the edges ab, ag, of (fig. 23), and eo, ed,
ex, contiguous to the summits a, e, of the nucleus. An
idea may be formed of its structure by comparing it with
that of the dodecahedron whose planes form rhombuses
(fig. 5 and 12), originating from the cube (fig. 7); and
by supposing that the laminae, instead of decreasing at
the same time on all the edges, decrease only to those
contiguous, three by three, to the angle C and its oppo¬
site. The faces formed in that case will be reduced to
six, which, by prolonging themselves, according to the
law of continuity, so as to intersect each other, will com¬
pose the surface of a rhomboid analogous to the one which
we are now treating of, excepting that it will have other
angles, on account of the cubical form of its integral mo¬
lecule.
From this it may be conceived that the diagonals drawn
from atod (fig. 22), from a to g', from a to/', &c. on the
l secondary rhomboid, will be confounded with the edges
ab, ag, q/‘(fig. 23) of the nucleus, which serve as lines of
departure for the decrements; and hence, to extract this
! nucleus, the planes of the sections must pass along these
diagonals, as has been already remarked.
Common Topaz (fig. 25).
Geometric Character.—The inclination of the trapezoid
srtm to the adjacent plane rtey, 136° ; of the same plane
to hryz, 124° 26'; of the plane tmge to mlig, 93°.
The primitive form of the topaz is that of a right-an¬
gled, four-sided prism hy (fig. 24), the bases of which are
rhombuses, having the angle hov r — 124° 26'. Accord¬
ing to theory, in regard to the integrant molecule, the
height ry is to the side rn nearly in the ratio of three to
two. The pyramidal summit of the topaz results from a
decrement by two rows of small prisms on the edges ar,
rn, nh, hx of the superior base of the primitive form. The
planes tmge, Imge (fig. 25) on one side, and bkzp, budp on(
the other, arise from a decrement by three rows on each
side ot the edges, nv, xq (fig. 24), which decrement re¬
mains suspended at a certain term, and leaves four rect¬
angles trye, hryx, Ihci, uhcd (fig. 25), parallel to the planes
ot the primitive form, ihe effect ot this decrement is
shown at fig. 26, where the rhombus hnrx is the same as
fig. 24; and all the small rhombs by which it is subdivid¬
ed, or which are exterior to it, represent the bases of so
many molecules. The lines xd, xz, ni, ne, are directed
according to the law of decrement already explained, and
the lines cd, ci, yz, ye, correspond to the planes of the
prism, which are not subject to this law.
3. Decrement on the Angles.
This position of the rhomboidal nucleus inclosed in the
regular hexahedral prism of the calcareous spar being dis¬
covered, did not directly lead to the determination of the
laws of those decrements of secondary crystals. More
simple intermediate steps were necessary. To conceive
the method of investigating these new decrements, it may
be remarked that the same substances which exhibit the
dodecahedron with pentagonal planes originating from the
cubes (fig. 19 and 20), and which might assume the form
of the dodecahedron whose planes are rombuses (fig. 5
and 6), are found also under that of the regular octahe¬
dron. But if the laminae of superposition decrease only
on the edges of the two opposite faces of this cube, as on
those of the superior base ABCD (fig. 6), and of the in¬
ferior base, we shall in general have two pyramids applied
on these bases. And if we suppose the effect of the law
of decrements continued in the space situated between
the bases of the cube, we shall arrive at an octahedron,
whose angles will vary as there is a greater or smaller
number of rows subtracted. But no law, however com¬
plicated, can give equilateral triangles as the faces of this
octahedron.
On the other hand, by dividing a regular octahedron
originating from a cube, the cubic nucleus will appear to
be so situated in this octahedron that each of its six solid
angles corresponds to the centre of one of the faces of the
octahedron; but this could not be the case by supposing
a decrement on the edges. The law of decrement accom¬
plishes its ends, in such cases, by a different progress from
that which conducts to the forms already described.
Let ABCD (fig. 27) be the superior or inferior surface
of a lamina composed of small cubes, whose bases are
represented by the squares which subdivide the whole
square. The series of cubes to which the squares a, b, c,
d, e,f g, h, i, belong, are on the diagonal drawn from A
to C; and they form one string (fig. 28), which will not
differ from the string of the cubes a, n, g, r1, s', t', u', zf, x'
(fig. 27), lying in the direction of the edge AD, except¬
ing that in the former the cubes touch only by one of their
edges, and in the latter by one of their faces. There are
also, throughout the whole extent of the lamina, strings
of cubes parallel to the diagonal. The series of letters q,
v, k, u, x, y, z, shows one, and the letters n, t, l, m, p, o,
r, s, show another string.
The laminae of superposition, it may be conceived, pro¬
ject beyond each other one or more rows of cubes in a
direction parallel to the diagonal. In like manner may
be constructed around the cubic nucleus, solids of differ¬
ent figures, by placing successively above the different
faces of this nucleus laminae which may arise in the form
of pyramids, and which will experience this kind of decre¬
ment. The faces of these solids will be roughened by an
infinite number of salient angles formed by the exterior
515
Structure
516 CRYSTALI
Structure points of the composing cubes. This follows from the
of Crystals. angular figure which is continually presented by the edges
0f the laminae of superposition. But these points being
on a level, the cubes may be supposed to be so small that
the faces of the solid will appear smooth and continued
planes.
Around the cube ABGF (fig. 29), as a nucleus, let a
, secondary solid be constructed, in which the lamina of
superposition shall decrease on all sides by a single row of
cubes, in a direction parallel to the diagonals; and let
ABCD (fig. 30), the superior base of the nucleus, be sub¬
divided in eighty-one small squares, representing the ex¬
terior faces of an equal number of molecules, hig. 31 re¬
presents the superior surface of the first lamina, which
ought to be placed above ABCD (fig. 30) in such a man¬
ner that the point a' may correspond to the point a, the
point b' to the point b, the point c’ to the point c, and the
point d' to the point d. By this disposition the squares
Aa, Bb, Cc, T)d (fig. 30) remain uncovered, which will
fulfil the above law of decrement; and the borders QV,
ON, IL, GF (fig. 31) project by one row beyond the bor¬
ders AB, AD, CD, BC (fig. 29), which is necessary, that
the nucleus may be enveloped towards these edges. For
if the edges of the lamina represented (fig. 31), as well as
the following, coincided with the lines SI, EZ, YX, MU,
on which supposition they would be on a level with AD,
AB, CD, BC (fig. 30), they would form re-entering an¬
gles towards the analogous parts of the crystal. Thus in
the lamina; applied on ABCD (fig. 29), all the edges an¬
swering to CD would be on a level with CDFG, of which
they would form a prolongation; and in the laminae ap¬
plied on DCFG all the edges analogous to the same ridge
CD would be on a level with ABCD, from which neces¬
sarily results a re-entering angle opposite to the salient
angle formed by the two faces ABCD and CDFG. But
by the laws which determine the formation of simple crys¬
tals, re-entering angles appear to be excluded. The solid
will then increase in those parts to which the decrement
does not extend. But this decrement alone being suffi¬
cient to determine the form of the secondary crystal, all
the other variations which intervene only in a subsidiary
manner may be set aside, excepting in the construction
of artificial crystals, and in exhibiting the details relating
to the structure.
The superior face of the second lamina will be like
A'G'L'K' (fig. 32), and this lamina must be placed above
the preceding, in such a manner that the points a”, b", c",
d", may correspond with the points a!, V, d, d’ (fig. 31),
which will leave uncovered the squares having their exte¬
rior angles situated in Q, S, E, O, V, T, M, G, &c., and
continuing to produce the decrement by one row. The
solid increases towards the analogous edges at AB, BC,
CD, AD (fig. 30), since between A' and L', for instance
(fig. 32), there are thirteen squares, but between QV and
LI (fig. 31) there are only eleven.
The large faces of the laminae of superposition which
were hitherto octagons QVGF1LNO (fig. 31) having ar¬
rived at the figure of the square A'G'L'K' (fig. 32), will,
after passing that term, decrease on all sides at the same
time, and the following lamina will have for its superior
face the square B'MTS' (fig. 33), less in every direction
by one row than the square A'G'L'K' (fig. 32). Let this
square be disposed above the preceding, so that the points
c',/', g\ h' (fig. 33) may correspond with the points c,/,
g, h (fig. 32). Fig. 34, 35, 36, and 37 represent the four
laminae which ought to rise successively above the pre¬
ceding, the same letters being made to correspond. The
last lamina is reduced to one cube z' (fig. 39), which should
correspond with the same letter (fig. 37).
Thus it follows, that the laminae of superposition applied
,IZ ATION.
on the base ABCD (fig. 29 and 30) produce, by the total Sw
of their decreasing edges, four faces, which in proceeding of cl
from the points A, B, C, D, incline one to another in the M
form of a pyramidal summit. These edges, it may be re¬
marked, have lengths which begin by increasing as in fig.
30 and 32, and which then proceed decreasing. Thus the
faces produced by the same edges increase at first, and af¬
terwards decrease in breadth, so that they become quadri¬
laterals. One of these is represented at fig. 39, in which
the inferior angle C is confounded with the angle C (fig.
29) of the nucleus; and the diagonal LQ represents the
edge L'G' of the lamina A'G'L'K' (fig. 32), which is the
most extended in the direction of that edge. And the
number of laminae of superposition producing the triangle
LCQ (fig. 39) being less than that of the laminae produ¬
cing the triangle LZQ, since there is here only one lamina
preceding the lamina A'G'L'K' (fig. 32), while there are
six which follow it as far as the cube s (fig. 38) inclusive¬
ly, the triangle LZQ (fig. 39) composed of the sum of the
edges of these latter laminae, will have a much greater ,
height than the inferior triangle LCQ, as it is expressed
in the figure.
The surface of the secondary solid, then, will be formed !
of twenty-four quadrilaterals, disposed three and three
around each solid angle of the nucleus. But decreasing |
by one row, the three quadrilaterals belonging to each so- j
lid angle, such as C (fig. 29) will be in the same plane,
forming an equilateral triangle ZIN (fig. 40). The twenty- i
four quadrilaterals, then, will produce eight equilateral tri¬
angles. One of these is represented at fig. 41, showing
the arrangement of the cubes that concur to form it; and
the secondary solid will be a regular octahedron. This
octahedron is represented at fig. 42, inclosing the cubic
nucleus, so that each of its solid angles corresponds to the
centre of one of the triangles IZN, IPN, PIS, SIZ, &c. of
the octahedron. To extract this nucleus, it would be
necessary to divide the octahedron in its eight solid angles,
by sections parallel to the opposite edges. This is the
structure of octahedral sulphuret of lead or galena.
Such then is an example of decrements on the angles
which take place in a direction parallel to the diagonals.
By this denomination may be expressed precisely the re¬
sult of each decrement, by denoting the angle which serves
it as a point of departure.
Acute Calcareous Spar (fig. 43).
Geometric Character.—Inclination of pzry to puoy, 78° J
27' 47"; and to irzs, 101° 32' 13". Angles of the rhom¬
bus pzry, p or r= 75° 31' 20"; s or = 104° 28' 40".
Inclination of the oblique diagonal drawn from p to r
with the edge pu, 71° 35' 54".
Geometric Properties.—The angles of the rhombus are
equal to the respective inclinations of the faces of the nu¬
cleus, and reciprocally. The angles of the principal quadri¬
lateral, or that which passes through two opposite oblique
diagonals pr, ui, and through the intermediate edges pu,
ir, are the same as on the nucleus.
To conceive the structure of this rhomboid, suppose that
abdf(fig. 44) represents the face of the nucleus marked
with the same letters (fig. 4), subdivided into a multi¬
tude of partial rhombuses, which are the exterior faces or
so many molecules. Suppose further that the laminae or
superposition, applied on this face, decrease by one row
towards the lateral angles abd, afd, in such a manner that
on the first the two rhombuses bhkl,fmin are uncovered;
that on the second the uncovered rhombuses are those tra¬
versed by the diagonals co, uy, on the third those travers¬
ed by the diagonals st, qz, &c.; in which case the decreas¬
ing edges will successively correspond with these diago-
, ? nals. By this law of decrement two faces will be produ-
ks. ced, which, proceeding from the angles bf, will rise in the
K form of a roof above the rhombus abdf, and will meet on
a common edge situated immediately above the diagonal
ad, and which will be parallel to it; and as there are six
rhombuses which undergo like decrements on the primi¬
tive form, the faces produced will be twelve in number.
But, by the law of decrement by one row, the two faces
which have the same angle b, f, g, &c. (fig. 4) for the
point of departure will be in the same plane ; thus redu¬
cing the twelve faces to six, and transforming the second¬
ary crystal into an acute rhomboid pi (fig. 43). In this
rhomboid the edges pz, py, pu, are situated each as the
oblique diagonals of the nucleus, or those which would be
drawn from a to d, from a to x, from a to c, &c. (fig. 4.)
Crystals of this variety are found near Lyons in France ;
and the freestone of Fontainbleau, commonly called crys¬
tallized freestone, which is nothing else than calcareous
spar mixed with particles of quartz, exhibits the same
form. The crystals of this stone yield to mechanical di¬
vision, and have their natural joinings, like those of pure
spar, situated in the planes parallel to the edges pz, py,
pu, &c. (fig. 43), and which would pass at an equal dis¬
tance from these edges.
Rhomboidal Iron Ore (fig. 45).
Geometric Character.—Inclination of BCRP to BCOA or
OCRS, 146° 26' 33"; angles of the rhombus BCRP, C
or P = 117° 2' 9"; B or R = 62° 57' 51".
The laminae composing this rhomboid decrease by two
rows on the angles her, ocr, bco, &c. (fig. 46), which concur
with the formation of the two solid angles cn of a cubic
nucleus. The faces produced, instead of being on a level,
three and three, around these angles, as in the case of de¬
crement by a single row, incline one to the other, and ex¬
tend above the faces of the nucleus in such a manner that
their diagonals are parallel to the horizontal diagonals of
the same faces. The cube here answers the purpose of a
rhomboid, which should have its summits in c and n, in
which case there would be only one axis passing through
the summits. In the dodecahedron, on the other hand,
with pentagonal planes (fig. 19), the cube performs the
functions of a rectangular parallelopipedon, and then three
different axes may be conceived, each of which passes
through the middle of the two opposite faces. When the
cube begins to perform the one or the other in regard to
one species of mineral, it is observed to continue that func¬
tion in all the varieties of that species.
The crystals of rhomboidal iron are found among those
' of the iron ore of the island of Elba. It is uncommon,
I ’10wever, for the law of decrement to attain to its boun¬
dary, and for the rhomboid not to be modified by4 * * 7 facets
parallel to the faces of the nucleus. If the decrement
which produces the rhomboid took place at the same time
on the eight solid angles of the cube, there would result a
polyhedron of twenty-four facets, of which nature are the
crystals found at the Calton-hill, Edinburgh, which have
been considered as zeolites.
4. Intermediate Decrements.
In some crystals the decrements on the anglefe do not
a e place in lines parallel to the diagonals, but parallel to
ines situated between the diagonals and the edges. This
lappens when the subtractions are made by double, triple,
c. lows of molecules. In figure 55, which is an instance
0 tiese subtractions, the molecules composing the row
represented by the figure are so arranged as if, of two, only
one was ^’med. To reduce this case under that of the
CRYSTALLIZATION.
01/
common decrements on the angles, we have only to con- Structure
ceive the crystal composed of parallelopipeds, having their of Crystals,
bases equal to the small rectangles Ibcd, Jdfg, hgil, &c
of^dinfinulionlnterme^iate decrement is given to this kind
Syntactic Iron Ore (fig. 42).
Geometric Character.—Respective inclination of the tra¬
peziums bego, nqgo of the rising pyramids —
34' 31"; of the edges eg, gq, 129° 31' 16". Angles or
the trapezium bego, b or c ~ 103° 48' 35"- oorn —
76° IF 25". ,vwg-
This variety of iron ore is found at Framont, in Les
Vosges. It commonly appears under the form of two op¬
posite pyramids, and some groups reflect from the surface
the prismatic colours. These crystals, classed by De
ITsle among the modifications of the dodecahedron with
isosceles triangular planes, have for nucleus a cube per¬
forming the functions of the rhomboid. The two regular
hexagons by which they are terminated arise from a de¬
crement by a single row of cubic molecules on the angles
c, n (fig. 46) of the nucleus.
To comprehend the effect of this law, combined with the
preceding, and which produces the lateral trapeziums, let
it be supposed that cbpr (fig. 49) represents the same
square as fig. 46, subdivided into small squares, which are
the external faces of so many molecules. Takin°" these
molecules by pairs, so that they form rectangular parallel¬
opipeds, having for bases the oblong squares bngh, hgmG,
&c. and imagine that the subtractions are made by two
rows of these double molecules, the edges of the lamina?
of superposition will be successively ranged in lines, as
PGr, TL, Up, Sp, kz, yz, &c. and the sum of all these edges
will produce two faces, which departing from the angles
b, r, will converge, the one towards the other, and will
unite themselves on a common ridge, situated above the
diagonal cp, but inclined to that diagonal. The complete
result of this decrement, then, is twelve faces; and it is
shown by calculation, that the six superior faces being
prolonged to the point where they meet the six lower
faces, will form with them the surface of a dodecahedron,
composed of two right pyramids united at their bases. Bv
the effect of the first law, these pyramids are here incom¬
plete, which gives the hexagon abedru (fig. 48) and its op¬
posite.
5. Mixed Decrements.
The decrements in other crystals, either on the edges
or on the angles, vary according to laws, the proportion of
which can only be expressed by the fraction | or £-. It
may happen, for instance, that each lamina exceeds the
following by two rows parallel to the edges, and that it
may, at the same time, have an altitude triple that of a
simple molecule. A vertical geometrical section of one
of the kinds of pyramids resulting from this decrement is
represented at fig. 54. The effects of this decrement may
be readily conceived by considering that AB is a horizon¬
tal line taken on the upper base of the nucleus, bazr the
section of the first lamina of superposition, gfen that of the
second. These are called mixed decrements, which exhibit
this new kind of exception from the simplest laws. The}7,
as well as the intermediary ones, rarely exist anywhere
else, and they have been particularly discovered in certain
metallic substances. The application of the ordinary laws,
Haiiy observes, to a variety of these substances, present¬
ed such errors in the value of the angles as led him to be¬
lieve that they were inconsistent with theory. But ex¬
tending his theory, he arrived at results so correct as re-
518 CRY STALL
Structure moved every doubt of the existence of the laws on which
of Crystals, these results depended.
AH the changes to which crystals are subjected depend
on the laws of structure which have been explained, and
others of a similar kind. The decrements sometimes take
place at the same time on all the edges, as in the dode¬
cahedron having rhombuses for its planes, or on all the
angles, as in the octahedron originating from a cube.
Sometimes they take place only on certain edges of cer¬
tain angles. There is sometimes a uniformity between
them, so that it is one single law by one, two, three rows,
&c. which acts on the different edges or the different
angles. Sometimes the law varies from one edge to the
other, or from one angle to the other. Ibis happens P^"
ticularly when the form of the nucleus is not symmetrical,
as, for instance, when it is a parallelepiped, whose faces
differ by their respective inclinations, or the measure ot
their angles. In some cases there is a concurrence of the
decrements on the edges with those on the angles to pro¬
duce the same form, and sometimes the same edge or
the same angle is subjected to several laws of decrement
succeeding each other. The secondary crystal in some
cases has faces parallel to those of the primitive form, and
which combine with the faces produced by the decrements
to modify the figure of the crystal. Simple secondary
forms are those which arise from a single law of decre¬
ment, the effect of which entirely conceals the nucleus.
Compound secondary forms arise from several simultane¬
ous laws of decrement, or from one single law not having
attained to its extent; so that there remain faces parallel
to those of the nucleus, which concur with the faces pro¬
duced by the decrement to diversify the form of the crys¬
tal. If, amidst this diversity of laws, sometimes insulated,
sometimes united by more or less complicated combina¬
tions, the number of the rows subtracted were itself ex¬
tremely variable; if, for instance, these decrements were
by twelve, twenty, or thirty rows, or more, which is pos¬
sible, the number of forms which might exist in each kind
of mineral would be immense. But the power by which
the subtractions are effected seems to be very limited in
its action. Its extent rarely exceeds one or two rows of
molecules. Beyond four rows only one variety of calca¬
reous spar has been discovered. The structure of this va¬
riety depends on a decrement by six rows ; but this seems
to be a rare occurrence in nature. Yet although the laws
of crystallization are limited to two of the simplest, that
is, those which produce subtractions by one or two rows,
calcareous spar is susceptible of 2044 different forms, a
number exceeding more than fifty times that of the forms
at present known; and, admitting into the combination
decrements by three and four rows, calculation will give
8,388,604 possible forms of the same substance, and by
the operation of either mixed or intermediate decrements
this number will be greatly augmented.
The striae observed on the surface of many crystals is
another proof in favour of the theory; for they always
have directions parallel to the projecting edges of the la¬
minae of superposition, which mutually go beyond each
other, if the regularity of the process has not been dis¬
turbed. It must not however be supposed that the in¬
equalities arising from the decrements must be always
sensible if the form of the crystals be complete; for the
molecules being extremely minute, the surface will ap¬
pear finely polished, and no striae will be perceptible.
In some secondary crystals, therefore, they are not to be
seen, while they are quite distinct in others of the same
nature and form. In the latter case, the action of the
causes producing crystallization has not enjoyed all the
necessary conditions; the operation has been interrupted;
and the law of continuity not having been observed, there
, i z A t i o N.
have remained on the surface of the crystal perceptible siA
vacancies. These deviations have this advantage, that oilin'
they point out the direction according to which the striae ^ -v
are arranged in lines, and thus contribute to discover the
real mechanism of the structure.
The small vacuities which the edges of the laminae of
superposition leave on the surface of even the most per¬
fect secondary crystals, by their re-entering and salient
angles, show that the fragments obtained by division, the
external facets of which form part of the faces of the se¬
condary crystal, are not like those drawn from the interior
part; for this apparent diversity arises from these facets
being composed of a multitude of small planes, really in-
dined to each other, but which being very minute, pre¬
sent the appearance of one plane. And if the division
could reach its utmost bounds, these fragments would be
resolved into molecules similar to each other, and to those
situated towards the centre. It happens, too, that mole¬
cules of different figures arrange themselves in such a
manner as to produce similar polyhedra in different kinds
of minerals. Thus the dodecahedron with rhombuses for j ,]
its planes, which is obtained by combining cubic mole¬
cules, exists in granite, with a structure composed of small ■ |
tetrahedra, having isosceles triangular faces. It exists also j
in sparry fluor, wliere there is also an assemblage of te¬
trahedra, but regular, that is to say, the faces of which
are equilateral triangles.
We now proceed to give examples of compound second¬
ary forms.
Prismatic Calcareous Spar (fig. 1).
The bases of this prism are produced in consequence of
a decrement, by a single row on the angles of the summits
baf gaf, bag, dex, dec, cex (fig 4), of the primitive form.
The six planes result from a decrement by two rows on
the angles bdf,fxg, beg, dfx, dbc, cgx, opposite to the pre¬
ceding. Let abdf (fig. 50) be the same face of the nu¬
cleus as fig. 4. The decreasing edges situated towards
the angle of the summit a will successively correspond
with the lines hi, kl, &c. and those which look towards
the inferior angle d, will have the positions pointed out
by mn, op; but as the first decrement takes place by one
row, it is proved that the face which results from it is
perpendicular to the axis; and calculation shows, in like
manner, that the second decrement taking place by two
rows produces planes parallel to the axis, and thus the
secondary solid is a regular hexahedral prism.
To develope further the structure of this prism, it may
be remarked, that in the production of any one, abenih
(fig. 1), of the two bases, the effect of one only of the three
decrements which take place around the solid angle a (fig.
4) may be considered, for example, of that which takes
place on the angle baf, supposing that the laminae applied
on the two other faces fagx, bage, do not decrease, but to
assist the result of the principal decrement which takes
place in regard to the angle baf. Here these auxiliary
decrements are quite similar to that whose effect they
are supposed to prolong.
The case will be totally different, by applying the same
observation to the decrements which are affected by two
rows on the inferior angles dbf, dfx,fxg, &c. and which
produce the six planes of the prism. If, for example, we
consider the effect of the decrement on the angle dfx, it
is necessary also that the laminae applied on the faces
afdb, afxg (fig. 4), should experience towards their la¬
teral angles afd, afx, adjacent to the angle dfx, variations
which second the effect of the generating decrement.
Here, however, these variations are intermediary decre¬
ments by rows of double molecules.
CRYSTALLIZATION.
Amphitrigonous Iron Ore. Fig. 51 shows this crystal in
* a horizontal projection, and fig. 52 in perspective.
Geometric Character.—Respective inclination of the trian¬
gles gen, ged, &c. from the same summit, 146° 26' SS";
, of the lateral triangles bgu, bgq, to the adjacent penta¬
gons, such as gutmn, 154° 45' 39".
This is the common form of the iron ore of the island
of Elba. It results from a decrement by two rows on the
angles c, n (fig. 46), to the summits of a cubic nucleus,
which produces the isosceles triangles gen, ged, ned (fig.
51 and 52), and of a second decrement by three rows on
the lateral angles cbq, crp, ers, &c. which produce the tri¬
angles mnr, rnk, ugb, ggb, &c. These two decrements
stop at a certain term, so that there remain faces paral¬
lel to those of the nucleus, viz. the pentagons gutmn, hdnhl,
&c. (fig. 50). The first decrement is similar to that which
produces the rhomboidal iron ore. The second has this
property, that if its effects were complete, it would give a
dodecahedron of isosceles triangles, or composed of two
right pyramids united at their bases. The triangles of the
summits are frequently furrowed by striae parallel to the
bases gn, dn, gd, of these triangles, and which point out
the direction of the decrement.
Analogical Calcareous Spar (Ha 'uy), fig. 53.
Geometric Character.—Inclination of any one, imeh, of the
trapezoids of the summits to the corresponding vertical
trapezoid ecpg, 116° 33' 54"; angles of the same trape¬
zoid i = 114° 18' 56"; e = 75° 31' 20"; m or h = 85°
4' 52". Angles of the trapezoid ehoq, e = 90° ; o = 127°
25' 53"; g - 67° 47' 44"; h — 74° 46' 23"; of the tra¬
pezoid cegp, e = 60°; p = 98° 12' 46"; c or g = 100°
53' 37".
Geometric Properties.—1. In each vertical trapezoid, the
triangle ceg is equilateral. 2. The height ex of this triangle
is double the height px of the opposite triangle cpg. 3. In
the trapezoid ehog, and the other similarly situated, the
angle heg is a right angle. 4. If the diagonal gh be drawn,
the triangle heg will be similar to any one aof (fig. 4) of
those which would be produced by drawing in the primi¬
tive rhombus the two diagonals bf, ad. 5. If in the tra¬
pezoid emih, or any other situated at the summits, the
diagonals ei, mh be drawn, the height el of the inferior tri¬
angle meh will be double the height il of the superior tri¬
angle mih. 6. The triangle mih is similar to half of the
rhombus of every obtuse spar divided by tbe horizontal
diagonal, and the triangle meh is similar to half of the
rhombus of the acute spar divided in the same manner.
The numerous analogies connecting this variety with
different crystalline forms, whether considering certain
' angles formed by planes, or certain triangles obtained by
drawing the diagonals of the trapezoids, led the author of
this theory to give it the name of analogical spar. It is
derived from three other varieties, viz. very obtuse spar,
by the trapezoids emih, fiht, &c.; metastatic spar, by the
trapezoids cmdc, ehog, ohtz, &c.; and the prismatic spar,
by the trapezoids back, cegp, &c. which are consequently
parallel to the axis. The trapezoids imeh, fiht, &c. are
often separated by an intermediary ridge from the verti¬
cal trapezoids cegp, gozr, &c. In that case the trapezoids
edme, geho, &c. are changed into pentagons.
Icosahedral Sulphured of Iron (fig. 55).
Geometric Character.—Respective inclinations of the isos¬
celes triangles PLR, PSR, 126° 52' 11"; of any one
PNL of the equilateral triangles to each adjacent isos¬
celes triangle, PLR, or LNK, 140° 46' 17". Angles of
519
the isosceles triangle PLR, L = 48° IP 20"; P or R Structure
— 65° 54/ 20". ofCrystals.
This variety is the result of a combination of the law
which produces the octahedron originating from a cube
(fig. 42), with that which takes place for the dodecahe¬
dron with pentagonal planes (fig. 19 and 20). The first
law produces the eight equilateral triangles which corre¬
spond with the solid angles of the nucleus ; and the second
produces twelve isosceles triangles, situated two and two
above the six faces of the same nucleus. If a dodecahe¬
dron similar to that of fig. 20 were converted geometri¬
cally into this icosahedron, it would be sufficient to make
the planes of eight sections pass through it in the follow¬
ing manner; viz. one through the angles P, N, L (fig.
19), another through the angles P, M, 8, a third through
the angles L, R, U, &c. By comparing the figures 19 and
55, the relation between the polyhedra will be seen by the
correspondence of the letters; but this is merely an arti¬
ficial operation; for it may be observed, that the nucleus
of the icosahedra which would be obtained, would be
much smaller than that of the dodecahedron, since the
solid angles of the latter nucleus would be confounded
with the angles D, C, G, &c. (fig. 20), of the dodecahe¬
dron ; but the other nucleus would have its solid angles
situated in the middle of the equilateral triangles MPS,
NPL, URL (fig. 55).
The icosahedron of the sulphuret of iron, which is not
very common, has been confounded with the regular geo¬
metrical icosahedron, which has all its angles equilateral.
Theory shows that the existence of the latter icosahedron
is equally impossible in mineralogy as the geometrical do¬
decahedron. Among the five regular polyhedra of geo¬
metry, viz. the cube, the tetrahedron, the octahedron, the
dodecahedron, and the icosahedron, the three former can
only exist among minerals according to the laws of crys¬
tallization.
Polynomous Petunze (Hauy'), fig. 56.
Geometric Character.—Respective inclination of the nar¬
row planes, onkm, cfhg, to the adjacent planes on each
side, 150°; of the planes ct£g, PowzN to those contigu¬
ous to them by the edges <F, PN, 120°; of the hepta¬
gon pGcldez to the enneagon WzebnoPrs, 99° 41' 8"; of
the trapezium dafe, both to the plane nbafhilk, and to
the heptagon pGtcdez, 135° ; of the facet deal, or AB«p,
to the same pentagon, 124° 15' 15".
Haiiy had not observed the petunze crystallized under
its primitive form. This form, such as it is given by the
mechanical division of secondary crystals, is that of an
oblique prism of four planes (fig. 58), two of which, such
as GOAD, RBHN, are perpendicular to the bases ADNH,
OGRB; the other two, viz. BOAH, RGDN, make with
the former, angles of 120° at the ridge OA, RN, and
angles of 60° towards the opposite ridges BH, GD. These
planes are inclined to the bases at that place of the ridges
GO, BR, 1110 29' 43", and at the opposite ridges 68° 30'
17". This form is at the same time that of the molecule.
By theory, the two parallelograms GOAD, OGRB, as well
as their parallels, are equal in extent; and the parallelo¬
gram BOAH, or its opposite, RGDN, is double each of
the preceding. This may serve to explain the roughness
of the sections made in the direction BOAH, when com¬
pared with those in the directions of the small parallelo¬
grams, the latter being always smooth and brilliant. If,
however, the diagonal OR be drawn, it will be found per¬
pendicular to OA and RN; or it will be situated horizon¬
tally, by supposing that the ridges OA, BH have a ver¬
tical position.
This mineral exhibits the most complicated variety
520
CRYSTALLIZATION.
Structure whicli the author has observed among this kind of crys-
ofCrystals. tals. To comprehend its structure, suppose that bpyr
(fig. 57) represents a section of the nucleus AR (fig. 58),
made by a plane perpendicular to the parallelograms
GOAD, BO AH, and subdivided into a multitude of small
parallelograms, which are the analogous sections of so
many molecules. Here the side yr (fig. 57), which is
the same section of the cutting plane as GOAD, is greater
than it ought to be in regard to the side cr (fig. 5/), which
is the same section as BOAH (fig. 58). But these di¬
mensions are suited to those of the secondary crystal, and
here occasion no difficulty, because it may be supposed
that the primitive form has been extended more in one
direction than in another; for this form is to be consider¬
ed only as a convenient datum for the explanation of the
structure, and the crystal consists merely in an assem¬
blage of similar molecules; so that it is the dimensions of
these molecules which remain invariable.
By comparing fig. 56 and 57 it will be found, 1. That
the plane fabnklih (fig. 56), and its opposite, which corre¬
spond to nm, dg (fig. 57), are parallel to two planes of
the nucleus, viz. GOAD, BRNH (fig. 58), and therefore
do not result from any law of decrement; 2. that the
plane PomN, and its opposite (fig. 56), which correspond
to ao, eg (fig. 57), are also parallel to two of the planes of
the nucleus, viz. BOAH, RGDN (fig. 58); 3. that the
plane oiikm, and its opposite (fig* 56), which coi respond
to oyi, eg (fig. 57), result from a decrement by two rows
parallel to the ridges AO, NR (fig. 58); 4. that the plane
cfgh, and its opposite (fig. 56), result from a decrement
by four rows parallel to the ridges GD, BH (fig. 58),
which decrement takes place on the other side of these
ridges. From this it may be seen that decrements differ¬
ent in their measure give rise to planes similarly situated,
such as onkm and cfgh (fig. 56), which is a consequence
of the particular figure of the molecules. With regard to
the faces of the summit, the heptagon pGtcdez (fig. 56) is
situated parallel to the base BRGO (fig. 58). Ihe en-
neagon 'QsrYonbez (fig. 56) is produced in consequence of
a decrement by one row on the angle OBR (fig* 58), or
parallel to the diagonal OR; which decrement does not
attain to its full extent, and leaves subsisting the neigh¬
bouring heptagon parallel to the base BRGO. It may be
conceived, from what has been said on the position of the
diagonal OR, why the line ez (fig. 56), which separates
the two large faces of the summit, is situated horizontally,
by supposing that the planes have a vertical position.
The trapeziums dafe, ApGC, are the result of a decre¬
ment by one row on the ridges GO, BR (fig. 58). The
facet deba (fig. 56) arises from a decrement by two rows
parallel to the ridge BO (fig. 58). With regard to the
other facet ABzp, which has the same position as the pre¬
ceding, in relation to the opposite part of the crystal, it
results from an intermediary law, by a row of double
molecules on the angle OBR (fig. 58). The rhombuses
belli, klsu (fig. 59) represent the horizontal sections of
two of these double molecules taken in the same row, and
whose relation to the rest, of the arrangement will become
sensible by comparing these rhombuses with those marked
with the same letters in fig. 57. This variety of crystals
is subject to a change of dimensions; the faces pGtcdez,
fabnklih, and their opposites, which are at right angles to
each other, are elongated in the direction of their breadth,
exhibiting the appearance of a quadrilateral, rectangular-
prism, the summits of which would be formed by the faces
situated towards the ridges PN, F*. Crystals of this va¬
riety, which are opaque, and of a whitish, yellowish, and
sometimes reddish colour, are found in granites; some are
in groups, and some, but more rarely, are met with in
single crystals.
III. NUMBER OF PRIMITIVE FORMS.
%
oft,
In the examples which have been given, the author of ^
the theory has chosen the parallelepiped for a nucleus, on
account of the simplicity of its form. Fie has hitherto
found that all the primitive forms may be reduced to six.
1. The parallelepiped in general, which comprehends the
cube, tbe rhomboid, and all the solids terminated by six .
faces parallel two and two; 2. the regular tetrahedron;
3. the octahedron with triangular faces; 4. the hexago¬
nal prism; 5. the dodecahedron with rhomboidal planes;
6. the dodecahedron with isosceles triangular faces.
Among these forms there are some found as nucleus,
which have the measure of their angles the same in dif¬
ferent kinds of minerals. It is to be considered that these
nuclei are composed, in the first instance, of elementary
molecules, and that it is possible that the same form of nu¬
cleus may be produced in one species by elements of a
certain nature, and in another species by different ele¬
ments combined in a different manner, as we see integrant
molecules, some cubic and some tetrahedral, produce si¬
milar secondary forms by the operation of different laws
of decrement. But it may be observed that all the forms
which have hitherto occurred as nuclei on the different
species, are such as have a particular character of perfec¬
tion and regularity, as the cube, the regular octahedron,
and the dodecahedron with equal and similar rhombuses
for its faces.
IV. FORMS OF THE INTEGRAL MOLECULES.
The primitive form is that which is obtained by sec¬
tions made on all the similar parts of the secondary crys¬
tals ; and these sections, continued parallel to themselves,
conduct to a determination of the form of the integral
molecules, of which the whole crystal is the assemblage.
There is no crystal from which a nucleus in the form of a
parallelepiped may not be extracted, by making the limi¬
tation to six selections, parallel two and two. In a great
number of substances, this parallelepiped is the last term
of the mechanical division, and consequently the real nu¬
cleus ; but in some minerals this parallelepiped is divisible,
as well as the rest of the crystal, by further sections made
in the different directions of the faces, from which results
a new solid, which will be the nucleus, if all the parts of
the secondary crystal superadded to this nucleus are si¬
milarly situated. When the mechanical division conducts
to a parallelepiped, divisible only by sections parallel to
its six faces, the molecules are parallelepipeds similar to
the nucleus ; but in all other cases their form differs from
that of the nucleus. This may be illustrated by an example.
Let achsno (fig. 60) be a cube, having two of its solid
angles a, s situated on the same vertical line; this line
will be the axis of the cube, and the points a and s will
be its summits. Let it be supposed that this cube is di¬
visible by sections, each of which, such as ahn, passes
through one of the summits a, and by two oblique diago¬
nals ah, an, contiguous to the summit. By this section
the solid angle i will be detached; and as there are six
solid angles, situated laterally, viz. i, h, c, r, o, n, the six
sections will produce an acute rhomboid, the summits o
which will be confounded with those of the cube. Al ng*
61 this rhomboid is represented as existing in the cube in
such a manner that its six lateral solid angles b, d,f,Pife'
correspond with the middle of the faces achi, crsli, w*,
&c. of the cube; but each of the angles at the summits
bag, dsf, psf, &c. of the acute rhomboid, are - 60 , from
which it follows that the lateral angles abf, agf, &c- al.e
= 120°. Besides, it is proved by theory that the cube is
the result of a decrement which takes place by a sing e
3? ?
Stw
ofCi'.1
CR YbTALLIZATION. 52[
■•e row of small rhomboids, similar to the acute rhomboid on the rhomboid of fig. 60. Fig. 65 represents the rose in
Ms.the six oblique ridges ab, ag, ae, sd, sf sp. This decre- which the two tetrahedrons repose oPn the faces dbe ofCrvstaL
^ ment produces two faces, one on each side of each of of the octahedron ; and fig. 66 represents the case in whi?h '
these ridges, making in the whole twelve faces; but as they would rest on the flees S Z Hence wha^^
the two faces having the same line of ridge for their de- may be the two solid angles of the cube assumed for th!
parture are on the same plane, by the nature of the de- points of departure, we shall always have the same octa
crement the twelve faces will be reduced to six, which are hedron, with two tetrahedrons contiguous bv their s ,'nT
squares, so that the secondary solid is a cube. mils to these two solid angles, and there beino- eight of
Suppose that the cube (fig. 60) admits, in regard to its these solid angles, the central octahedron will be circum-
summits a, s, two new divisions similar to the preceding scribed yvith eight tetrahedrons, which will rest upon its
six, one of which passes through the points c, i, o, and the faces. By continuing the division always parallel to the
other through the points h, n, r. The first will also pass first sections, the same effect will always take place,
through the points b, g, e, and the second through the Each face of the octahedron, however small it may be
points d,f,p (fig. 61 and 62) of the rhomboid; from which supposed to be, adheres to a face of the tetrahedron and
it follows that these two divisions will each detach a re- reciprocally; and each tetrahedron is enveloped with four
gular tetrahedron bage, or dsfp (fig. 62) ; so that the rhom- octahedrons. 1
boid will be found converted into a regular octahedron ef The structure which is here explained is that of fluate
(fig. 63), which will be the real nucleus of the cube; for of lime, or fluor spar. By dividing a cube of this sub-
it is produced by divisions similarly made in relation to stance, we may at pleasure extract rhomboids which have
the eight solid angles of the cube. If we suppose the same the angles formed by their planes equal to 120° or re^u-
'"'h° tn hp divisible thrnmrhmit. its whole extent lw nn*. ]ar octahedrons, or tetrahedrons equally regular ’ In some
cube to be divisible throughout its whole extent by ana¬
logous sections, it is clear that each of the small rhom¬
boids, of which it is the assemblage, will be found in like
manner subdivided into an octahedron, and two regular
tetrahedrons, applied on the two opposite faces of the oc-
other substances, as rock crystal, carbonate of lead, &c.
which being mechanically divided beyond the term at
which wre should have a rhomboid or a parallelepiped,
parts of various different forms are obtained, and arranged
tahedron. By taking the octahedron for a nucleus, a cube together even in a more complicated manner than in fluor
may be constructed round it, by regular subtractions of spar. In consequence of these mixed structures, there is
small complete rhomboids. If, for example, we suppose some uncertainty respecting the real figure of the integral
decrements, by a single row of these rhomboids, having b molecules which belong to these substances. It is ob-
for the point of their departure, and made in a direction
parallel to the inferior edges gf, eg, de, df of the four tri¬
angles which unite to form the solid angle b, there will
result four faces, which will be found on a level, and, like
the octahedron with six solid angles, similar decrements
around the other five angles will produce twenty faces,
which taken four and four will be equally on a level, mak¬
ing in the whole six distinct faces, situated as those of
the cube (fig. 60).
as in the case
served, however, that the tetrahedron is always one of
those solids which concur in the formation of small rhom¬
boids or parallelepipeds that would be extracted from the
crystal by a first division. But, on the other hand, there
are substances which, being divided in every possible di¬
rection, resolve themselves only into tetrahedrons. Gar¬
net, blendes, and tourmaline, belong to this number.
Several minerals are divisible into right triangular prisms.
60). The result will be exactly the same Such is the apatite, the primitive form of which is a regu-
of the rhomboid, considered as nucleus. lar right hexahedral prism, divisible parallel to its bases
In whatever way we proceed to subdivide, either the and its planes, from which necessarily result right prisms
cube, the rhombus, or the octahedron, we shall always with three planes. Fig. 67 represents one of the bases of
have solids of two forms, that is to say, octahedrons and the hexahedral prism, divided into small equilateral tri¬
tetrahedrons, without being able to reduce the result of angles, which are the bases of so many molecules, and
the division to unity. But the molecules of a crystal which being taken two and two, form quadrilateral prisms,
with rhombuses for their bases.
By adopting then the tetrahedron, in the doubtful cases
already mentioned, all the forms of integral molecules
may in general be reduced to three, which are remarkable
being similar, Haiiy thinks it probable that the structure
was as it were interspersed with a multitude of small va¬
cuities, occupied either with the water of crystallization,
or some other substance; so that, if it were possible to
carry the division to its limits, one of those two kinds of for their simplicity, viz. the parallelepiped, the simplest of
solids would disappear, and the wfoole crystal would be all the solids, having parallel faces two and two; the tri-
found composed only of molecules of the other form, angular prism, the simplest of all prisms; and the tetra-
This view is the more admissible, as each octahedron hedron, which is the simplest of pyramids. This simpli-
being enveloped with eight tetrahedrons, and each tetra- city may furnish a reason for the preference given to the
hedron being in like manner enveloped with four octahe- tetrahedron in fluor spar, and the other substances which
drons, whichever of these forms may be supposed to be have been mentioned as examples. But the ingenious
suppressed, the remaining solids will join exactly by their author of the theory cautiously declines to speak decisive-
edges; so that in this respect there will be continuity and ly on the subject, as the want of direct and precise obser-
umformity throughout the whole extent of the mass. It vations, he observes, leaves to theory only conjectures and
may be readily conceived how each octahedron is enve- probabilities.
loped with tetrahedrons. By attending to the division of But the essential object is, that the different forms to
the cube only by the six sections which give the rhom- which these mixed structures lead are arranged in such
boid, vve may depart at pleasure from any' two, a, s ; o, h ; a manner that their assemblage is equivalent to a sum of
C>M; i, r, of the eight solid angles, provided that these small parallelepipeds, as has been seen to be the case in
two angles be opposite to each other. But by departing regard to fluor spar; and that the laminae of superposition
fiom the angles a, s, the rhomboid will be in the position applied on the nucleus decrease by subtractions of one or
shown at fig. 62. If, on the contrary, we depart from the more rows of these parallelepipeds. The basis of the
solid angles o, h, these angles will become the summits of theory exists, therefore, independently of the choice which
a new rhomboid (fig. 64), composed of the same octahe- might be made of any of the forms obtained by the me-
dron as that of fig. 63, with two new tetrahedrons applied chanical division.
on the faces bdf egp (fig, 64), which were unoccupied on With the help of this result, the decrements to which
vol. vxi. 3 y
522
CRYSTALLIZATION.
structure crystals are subject, whatever be their primitive forms,
ofCrystals. are found reducible to those which take place in sub-
-V"-' stances where this form, as well as that of the molecules,
are indivisible parallelepipeds ; and the theory has this
advantage of being able to generalise its object, by con¬
necting with one fact that multitude of facts which, on
account of their diversity, seem to be little susceptible of
being brought to one common point. But what has been
said will be still more illustrated by examples of the man¬
ner in which we may reduce to the theory of the paral¬
lelepiped, that of the forms which are different from that
solid.
which it follows, that the twenty-four tetrahedrons, con- &iJj
WHICH It Ituiuvvo, mcii, mv, .... U |t|«g
sidered six and six, form four rhomboids ; so that the do-of|st|
t  i   U.. .or.nr.oLrorl {io Lpincr itsplf immpflintoli.'w *
Crystals whose Molecules arc Tetrahedrons, with Isosceles
Triangular Faces.
garnet.
1. Primitive Garnet (fig- 68).
Geometric CAaracter.—Respective inclinations of any two
of the faces of the dodecahedron, 120°. Angles of the
rhombus CLGH, C or G = 109° 28' 16"; L or H = 78
31' 44".
Notwithstanding the vitreous appearance in general ex*
hibited on the fractures of garnets of the primitive form,
lamina; may be perceived on them, situated parallel to the
rhombuses which compose their surface. Let us suppose
the dodecahedron divided in the direction of its lamina;,
and, for the greater simplicity, let us suppose the sections
to pass through the centre. One of these sections, viz.
that which will be parallel to the two rhombuses OLrJN,
BHOR, will concur with a hexagon, which would pass
through the points E, C, G, P, I, A, by making the tour
of the crystal. A second section parallel to the two rhom¬
buses GLPF, BEAR, will coincide with another hexagon
shown by the points D, C, H, O, I, N. And if the divi¬
sion be continued parallel to the other eight rhombuses,
taken two and two, it will be found that the planes of the
sections will be confounded with four new hexagons ana¬
logous to the preceding. But by resuming all these hexa¬
gons, it will appear that their sides correspond, some of
them with the small diagonals of the rhombuses of the
dodecahedron, viz. those which would be drawn from C
to G, from A to I, from C to B, &c. and others would cor¬
respond with the different ridges EC, GP, PI, EA, &c
decahedron may be conceived as being itself immediately
composed of these four rhomboids, and in the last analysis
of twenty-four tetrahedrons.
It may be observed, that the dodecahedron having eight
solid angles, each formed with three planes, they might
have been considered as the assemblage of the four rhom¬
boids, which would have for exterior summits the four
angles G, B, D, A ; from which it follows, that any one of
the faces, such as CLGO, is common to two rhomboids,
one of which would have its summit in C, and the other
in G, and which would themselves have a common partin
the interior of the crystal.
We may remark further, that a line GS (fig. 69) drawn
from any one G (fig. 68) of the solid angles composed of
three planes, as far as the centre of the dodecahedron, is
at the same time the axis of the rhomboid, which would
have its summit in .C (fig. 66 and 68). The composing
rhomboids then have this property, that their axis is equal
to the sides of the rhombus. From which, with a little
attention, wre may conclude, that in each tetrahedron,
such as CLGS (fig. 69), all the faces are equal and similar
isosceles triangles.
If the division of the dodecahedron be continued by
sections passing between those which we have supposed
to be directed towards the centre, and which should be
parallel to them, we should obtain tetrahedrons always
smaller, and arranged in such a manner that, taking them
in groups of six, they would form rhomboids of a bulk pro¬
portioned to their own.
The tetrahedrons, which would be the term of the di¬
vision, were it possible to reach it, ought to be considered
as the real molecules of the garnet. But it will be seen,
that in the passage to the secondary forms, the laminae of
superposition which envelope the nucleus really decrease
by rows of small rhomboids, each of which is the assem¬
blage of these tetrahedrons.
The sulphuret of zinc, or blende, has the same struc¬
ture as the garnet. Haviy informs us that he has divided
fragments of this substance by very clean sections, in such
a manner as to obtain successively the dodecahedron, the
rhomboid, and the tetrahedron.
1. The planes then of the sections passing through the
sides and through the small diagonals of the twelve rhom¬
buses, will subdivide the whole surface into twenty-four
isosceles triangles, which will be the halves of these rhom¬
buses. 2. Since the planes of the sections pass also
through the centre of the crystal, they will detach twen-
ty-four pyramids with three faces; the bases of which, if
we choose, will be the external triangles that make part
of the surface of the dodecahedron, and of which the sum¬
mits will be united in the centre.
Besides, if we take, for example, the six tetrahedrons,
which have for external faces the halves of the three
rhombuses CEDE, CLGH, CEBH, these six tetrahedrons
will form a rhomboid, represented by fig. 77, and in which
the three inferior rhombuses DLGS, GHBS, DEBS, re¬
sult from three divisions, which pass, one through the
hexagon DLGORA (fig- 68), the second thiough the
hexagon GHBANF, and the third through the hexagon
BEDFPO. Fig. 69 also represents the two tetrahedrons,
the bases of which make part of the rhombus CLGH.
One of these is marked with the letters L, C, G, S, and
the other with the letters H, C, G, S. And by apply¬
ing what has been said to the other nine rhombuses,
which are united, three and three, around the points F,
A, H (fig. 69), we shall have three new rhomboids; from
2. Trapezoidal Garnet (fig. 70).
Geometric Character.—Respective inclination of the trape¬
zoids, united three and three around the same solid:
angle D, C, G, &c. 131° 48' 33"; of the trapezoids unit¬
ed four and four around the same solid angle w, x, r,
&c 131° 48' 36". Angles of any one of the trapezoids
miu L,L = 78° 27' 46"; D z= 117° 2' 8"; m or u = 82° j
15' 3". The value of the angle L is the same as thatot
the acute angle of the nucleus of calcareous spar.
This variety is the result of a series of laminae, decreas¬
ing at the four edges, on all the faces of the primitive do¬
decahedron. For the more simplicity, let us first considei ,
the effect of this decrement in regard to the rhombus
CLGH (fig. 68). We have just seen that this rhompus
was supposed to belong in common to two rhomboids,
which should have for summits, one the point C, ana t
other the point G. Let us suppose that the ^nunae ap¬
plied on this rhombus decrease towards their ioui eag ,
by subtractions of a single row of small rhomboids, m sue
a manner that, in regard to the two edges CL, Ub c
cumstances are the same as if the rhombus belonged to tne
rhomboid which has its summit m C ; and that injeg
to the other two edges GL, GH, the edect is the
if the rhombus belonged to the rhomboid which has
summit in G. This disposition is admissible here m con
crystallization.
Strut
fCn
re sequence of the particular structure of the dodecalieclron,
Js. which permits us to obtain small rhomboids, some of which
^ have their faces parallel to the faces of that with its sum¬
mit in C, and the rest to that having its summit in G.1
The results of the four decrements being thus quite
similar to each other, the laminae of superposition, applied
on the rhombus CLGH, and on each of the other rhom¬
buses of the dodecahedron, will form as many right quad¬
rangular pyramids, which will have for bases these same
rhombuses. Fig. 71 represents the pyramids which rest
on the three rhombuses CLDE, CEBH, CGHB (fig. 68),
and which have for summits the points m, e, s (fig. 68);
but on account of the decrement by a simple row, the
adjacent triangular faces, such as EmC, EsC of the two
pyramids that belong to the rhombuses CLDE, CEBH,
are on a level, and form a quadrilateral EmCs. But we
had twelve pyramids, and consequently forty-eight tri¬
angles. These divided by two give twenty-four quadri¬
laterals, which will compose the surface of the secondary
crystal. But because the rhomboidal bases of the two py¬
ramids extend more, in proceeding from L to E, or from
H to E, than in proceeding from D to C, or from B to C,
the sides wE, Es of the quadrilateral will be longer than
the sides Cm, Cs. And besides, mE will be equal to Es,
and Cm equal to Cs. Thus the quadrilaterals will be tra¬
pezoids which have their sides equal two and two. There
is no crystalline form in which the striae, when they do
exist, show in a more sensible manner the mechanism of
the structure than in this variety of garnet. We may here
see the series of decreasing rhombuses which form each
of the pyramids CLDEmj, CEBHs, &c. (fig. 71), and some¬
times the furrows are so deep that they produce a kind of
stair, the steps of which have a more particular polish and
brilliancy than those of the facets, which are parallel to
the faces CEDE, CHBE of the nucleus.
If the decrements stop abruptly at a certain term, so
that the pyramids are not terminated, the twenty-four
trapezoids will be reduced to elongated hexagons, which
will intercept twelve rhombuses parallel to the faces of
the nucleus. To this variety Haiiy has given the name of
intermediary garnet.
In the sulphuret of zinc the regular octahedron is the
result of a decrement by a row around the eight solid
angles, composed of three planes, viz. C, B, O, G, F, D,
A, I (fig. 68). The same substance also assumes the form
of a regular tetrahedron, by the help of a decrement by
one row on four only of the eight solid angles before men¬
tioned, such as C, O, F, A. The structure of this tetra¬
hedron is remarkable, as it presents an assemblage of other
tetrahedrons with isosceles faces.
Crystals whose Molecules are Triangular Prisms.
Oriental.
Haiiy has thus denominated the gem which is known
under the different names of ruby, sapphire, oriental topaz,
according as the colour is red, blue, or yellow. The dif¬
ferent varieties of this gem have not been accurately de¬
scribed, and the nature of the particular angles of each
has not been precisely indicated, on account of the rare
occurrence of regularly formed crystals, or, when such
have been found, on account of their being defaced by
being water-worn, or otherwise injured. But from some
crystals which were sufficiently characterized, Flaiiy ob¬
tained the following results:
1. Primitive Oriental.
This mineral crystallizes in the form of a regular hexa-
hedral prism, which is divisible parallel to its bases. Ac-
cording to theory, which points out other joinings parallel
°- le Pk*nes’ the molecule is an equilateral triangular
pnsm. The height of this prism, calculated by theory,
is a little less than three times the height of the triangle
of the base. °
2. Elongated Oriental (fig. 72).
Geometric C'/wracAn—Respective inclinations of the tri¬
angles IAS, IBS, 139° 54' Angles of the triangle IAS
A = 22° 54', I or S = 78° 47'. h ’
This form is the result of a decrement by a simple row
of small quadrangular prisms on all the edges of the bases
of the nucleus. Let qd (fig. 67) be the superior base,
subdivided into small triangles, which represent the ana¬
logous bases of so many molecules. The edges of the la¬
minae of superposition will correspond successively to the
hexagons hilmnr, ekuxyv, &c.; from which it follows that
the subtractions take place by rows of small parallelepi¬
peds of quadrangular prisms composed each of two trian¬
gular prisms.
3. Minor Oriental.
Geometric Character.—Dodecahedron formed of two right
pyramids less elongated than those of the preceding
variety. The triangles corresponding to IAS, IBS are
inclined to each other 122° 36'. In each of these tri¬
angles the angle of the summit is 31°, and each of the
angles at the base is 74° 30'.
The law of which this variety is the result differs from
that which produces the preceding, as it determines a
mixed decrement by three rows in breadth and two rows
in height.
• 4. Enneagonal Oriental (fig. 73).
Geometric Character.—Inclination of each small triangle,
such as cqi, to the adjacent base aciplbged, 122° 18'.
This is the elongated oriental, whose summits are re¬
placed by two faces parallel to the bases of the nucleus,
with the addition of six small isosceles triangles cqi, Ibf,
vzm, &c. the three superior of which are alternate in po¬
sition with the three inferior. These triangles are the re¬
sult of a decrement, by three rows of small quadrangular
prisms on the three angles of the superior base of the nu¬
cleus, such as b, d, g (fig. 67), and on the intermediate
angles of the inferior base. It may be readily conceived
that, in the decrement which takes place, for example,
on the angle g, the three rows which remain unoccupied
between that angle and the corresponding edge of the
first lamina of superposition are, 1. the small rhombus
goip, which alone forms the first row ; 2. the two rhombuses
osti, pzdi; 3. the three rhombuses situated on the same
line behind the two preceding.
Crystals of this gem are chiefly found in the kingdom
of Pegu. Some have been found in France, which have
received the name of sapphires of Puy. They have been
also found at a little distance from Velay, on the banks of
a rivulet near the village of Expailly, where they are
mixed with garnets and hyacinths. These have all the
characters of the stone which is denominated oriental
sapphire.
523
Structure
of Crystals.
Theory, the author observes, has conducted him to another result, which is, that the sum of the nucleus and laminse of superpo-
sition, taken together in proportion as the latter are applied one upon the other, is always equal to a sum of rhomboids ; though at
ut view k does not appear that this should be the case, according to the figure of these laminae, which represent rising pyramids.
524 C T E
Ctesias v< DIFFERENCE BETWEEN STRUCTURE AND INCREMENT.
Ctesiphon. jn w]iat iias been said respecting the decrements to
which the laminae of superposition are subjected, the au¬
thor observes that it was his view only to unfold the laws
of structure ; and he adds, that he is far from believing
that in the formation of a dodecahedral crystal, or one of
any other form, having a cube for a nucleus, the crystal¬
lization has originally produced that nucleus such as it is
extracted from the dodecahedron, by the successive ap¬
plication of all the laminae of superposition with which it
is covered. It seems proved, on the contrary, that from
the first moment the crystal is already a very small dode¬
cahedron, containing a cubical nucleus proportioned to its
small size, and that the crystal afterwards increases by de¬
grees without changing its form, by new layers which en¬
velope it on all sides, so that the nucleus increases also,
preserving always the same relation with the whole dode¬
cahedron. „ ... , . .
An example taken from a plane figure will make this
more strikinc; and what is said respecting this figuie may
be easily applied to a solid, since a plane figure maybe
always conceived as a section ot a solid. Let Liil JN
(fur. 74) be an arrangement of small squares, in which
the square ABCD, composed of forty-nine partial squares,
represents a section ot the nucleus, and the extreme
squares R, S, G, A, I, L, &c. that of the kind ot stab
formed by the laminae of superposition. It may be readi¬
ly conceived that the arrangement began with the square
ABCD, and that different files of small squares were after¬
wards applied on each of the sides of the central squaie ,
for example, on the side AB, first the five squaies com¬
prehended between I and M, next the three squares com¬
prehended between L and O, and then the square E. This
increment corresponds with that which would take place
if the dodecahedron began by being a cube proportioned
to its bulk, and which increased afterwards with the addi¬
tion of continually decreasing laminas.
CUB
F But, on the other hand, the arrangement may be con¬
ceived to be such as is represented in fig. 76, in which
the square abed is composed of only nine molecules, and (
bears upon each of its sides only one square e, n,f or r,-v
and that afterwards, by means of the application of new
squares arranged round the former, the assortment has
become that of fig. 75, where the central square a' b’d d
is formed of twenty-five small squares, and bears on each
side of its sides a file of three squares plus a terminating
square d rif, or r'; and that, in short, by a farther appli¬
cation, the assortment of fig. 75 is converted into that of
fig. 74. These different transitions will give some notion
of the manner in which secondary crystals may increase
in bulk, and yet retain their form ; and from this it will
appear that the structure is combined with that augmen¬
tation of bulk, so that the law according to which all the
laminae applied in the nucleus of the crystal, when arrived
at its greatest dimensions, successively decrease in depart¬
ing from this nucleus, existed already in the rising crys-
tal.
Such is the ingenious theory of the structure of crys¬
tals, which, the author observes, is in this similar to other
theories, that it sets out from a principal fact, on which it
makes all facts of the same kind to depend, and which are
only as it were corollaries. This fact is the decrement of
the laminae superadded to the primitive form ; and it is by
bringing back this decrement to simple and regular laws,
susceptible of accurate calculation, that theory arrives at
results, the truth of which is proved by the mechanical
division of crystals, and by observation of their angles.
We have now laid before our readers a complete account
of the atomic crystallographic system of Haiiy. Since the
publication of the beautiful views of that great observer,
other systems of a more decidedly practical nature have
appeared, such as those of Weiss, Mohs, and Naumann,
which it would be premature to notice in this part of the
work, it being our intention to consider them fully in the
article Mineralogy.
u!>
ll
CTESIAS, a native of Cnidos, who accompanied Cyrus
the son of Darius in his expedition against his brother
Artaxerxes, by whom he was taken prisoner. But having
cured Artaxerxes of a wound which he had received in the
battle, he became a great favourite at the court of Persia,
where he continued practising physic for seventeen years,
and was employed in several negotiations. He wrote a
history of Persia in twenty-three books, and also a history
of the Indies; but these works are now lost, and all that
remains of them is an abridgement compiled by Photinus.
The most judicious among the ancients looked upon Ctesias
as a fabulous writer ; yet several of the ancient historians
and of modern Christian writers have adopted his chrono¬
logy of the Assyrian kings.
CTESIBIUS, a mathematician of Alexandria, who flou¬
rished about 120 years before Christ. He was the first
who invented the pump; and he also invented a clepsy¬
dra, or water-clock. Plis invention for measuring time by
means of water was exceedingly ingenious. The water
was made to fall upon wheels, which it turned , and the
wheels communicated a regular motion to a small wooden
image, which by a gradual rise pointed with a stick to the
proper hours and minutes engraven on a column near the
machine. This contrivance underwent many improve¬
ments ; and the modern method of measuring time by an
hour-glass is an imitation of the clepsydra of Ctesibius.
CTESIPHON, a celebrated Greek architect, who fur¬
nished the designs of the famous temple of Ephesus, and
invented a machine for transporting the columns to be used
in that noble structure. He flourished 544 years before
Christ.
CUB, a bear’s whelp. Among hunters, a fox and mar¬
ten of the first year are also called cubs.
CUBA, the largest and most westerly of the Antilles.
Its configuration, extent, geographical position, great num¬
ber of ports, fertility, and climate, contribute to render it
one of the most interesting countries of America. Its
length, from Cape St Antonio to Point Maisi, in a direc¬
tion from west-south-west to east-north-east, and then
from west-north-west to east-south-east, is 257 leagues;
and its greatest width, in the direction from north to south,
is thirty-eight leagues. _ ,
The learned geographer Don Felipe Bausa ca.cuiated
that the surface of Cuba contained 3615 square maritime
leagues, twenty to a degree. Cuba is situated between
longitude 73° 56' and 85° west, and between latitude D
48' 30" and 23° 12' 45" north. It lies fourteen leagues
west from Cape Nicolas, in the island of St Domingo;
thirty-four south from Point Morant, in Jamaica; twenty-
seven east from Cape Catoche ; and thirty-seven south from
Cape Florida. The Gulf of Mexico, which is very nearly
of a circular form, of more than 250 leagues m circumfe¬
rence, is closed by the island of Cuba, with the exception
of two narrow passages, the one to the south, betw een ape
Catoche and Cape St Antonio, and the other to the nortti,
between Bahia, Honda, and the Florida shoals. Along tne
coast of Cuba are many keys and small islands, which are
included in the same government with the large island.
c u
The navigation of the coast is very unsafe, on account
Iv'ofthe rocks and shoals which encompass it almost with¬
out interruption, and often extend from two to three miles
into the sea. The broken outline of this vast extent of
coast, however, affords more than fifty ports and anchor¬
ing places, which are equally safe and easy of access.
The most remarkable, in a commercial point of view, are
those of Havanna, Mantanzas, Nuevitas, Jibara, and Bara-
coa, on the north, and St Jago, Manzanillo, Trinidad, Ja-
gua, and Batabano, on the south side of the island. There
is another port between Manzanillo and Trinidad, called
Santa Cruz, which in February 1829 was declared a free
port, and which, undoubtedly, will be much frequented,
as it furnishes great facilities for trading with Puerto
Principe, the second city in Cuba in point of population,
is the only good harbour in its vicinity on the south side
of the island, and is distant from it not more than twenty
leagues. The harbours of Bahia, Honda, Nipe, Naranjo,
and Guantanamo, also deserve to be mentioned, as they are
very spacious, and have plenty of water for such large ves¬
sels as may be in want of a safe port. A ridge of mountains
traverses the whole of the island, from the east to the
west, dividing it into two parts. At the foot of these the
country opens into extensive savannas. A considerable
number of small streams from these heights water the
island on both sides. These streams abound in fish of
different kinds, and are said to bring down considerable
quantities of gold. There are likewise many salt ponds,
which furnish abundance of fish and game; and several
springs of mineral water, which have proved very useful
for the cure of many diseases. The most remarkable are
those of St Diego, forty leagues west of Havanna; those
of Madruga, fourteen leagues south-west of the said city;
those of the town of Guanabacoa; and those of Camugiro,
one and a half league from Puerto Principe. Those of St
Diego are the only springs which have been analysed. They
consist of two wells, Tigre and Templado ; and, according
to the analysis of Sehor Esteves, a pound of the water
contains (M6 grains of sulphuretted hydrogen gas, Khh of
sulphate of lime, PO of hydrochlorate of magnesia. They
are particularly useful in cases of scrofula, cutaneous dis¬
eases, and some other complaints. The island is very rich in
minerals, particularly in copper, iron, and loadstone. In
1813, some persons endeavoured to work a mine which they
found near the city of Trinidad, and from which they ob¬
tained good gold and silver. They were however obliged,
from want of funds, to desist, though it was highly probable
that, with sufficient capital, it might have been rendered
profitable. For the same reason, together with the want
of protection from the government, a very rich mine of
coal was opened in 1816 near Bacuranao. A silver mine
was discovered in 1827, which yielded 7'5 of pure silver
I to a quintal of ore. Iron seems to be abundant, as the
ore shows itself in some parts. Loadstone is found in the
mountains of Paragua, and on the northern coast. Mar¬
bles of various kinds, and several important minerals, are
also met with on the island. The thickness of the forests,
and the rugged nature of the mountains, particularly on
the eastern side, have prevented travellers and others from
lully ascertaining the geological and mineralogical struc¬
ture of Cuba. Most of what is known upon this subject is
due to the indefatigable Humboldt. So productive is the
soil of Cuba, that it yields two, and even three crops of corn
m the year. During the whole year the fields are covered
i with aromatic plants and trees in blossom. The climate
is dry and warm. In the months of July and August the
thermometer ranges from 95° to 97° Fahrenheit; and in
the coldest months, which are December and January,
between 70° and 79° of Fahrenheit. It never freezes,
oven upon the highest mountains. The coasts of the
B A.
island are unhealthy, but the mountains are the reverse.
Among the indigenous animals of the island or the sur¬
rounding sea are the cayman or alligator, the manita or
sea cow, the iguana, a species of lizard, the turtle, &c.
Many of the domestic animals of Europe have been intro-
duced. A great number of swine, and also of bees, are raised.
The breeding of mules has recently been carried on to a
considerable extent. Birds are numerous in the forests,
among Avhich are the canary bird, the linnet, the cardinal
gross-beak, the bunting, also a bird resembling the night¬
ingale. The rivers, though deficient in water, and hav¬
ing but a short course, abound with excellent fish at cer¬
tain seasons. Reptiles and insects, among which are mos¬
quitoes, abound to a great extent. The vegetable king¬
dom of Cuba is extremely rich. There are to be found
the mahogany tree, the cedar, lignum vitae, and various
kinds of ebony, besides numerous woods suitable for build¬
ing houses, ships, &c.; palm trees, among which the ■palma
real is remarkable for its utility to man and animals; sar¬
saparilla, and many other plants useful in medicine ; also
the chestnut, the pine-apple, the anana or custard apple,
the medlar, plantain, orange, and various kinds of melons.
Among the agricultural plants, maize is the most important;
rice, beans, and peas, are also cultivated; but the rearing
of wheat has been abandoned.
The riches of the country consist in its great articles of
export, sugar, coffee, tobacco, wax, cacao, molasses, rum,
maize, &c. According to a recent official document, the
export of sugar in 1827 was 5,878,924^ arrobas (an arroba
being equal to 25 pounds), or, including tare, &c. 6,300,000
arrobas. The whole amount produced was 8,091,837
arrobas, of which there were consumed on the island
1,/91,837 arrobas. Of coffee, the export in the same
year was 2,001,583^ arrobas, and the amount consumed
in the island 881,914^ arrobas. With respect to tobacco,
the amount has not been so well ascertained. This article
pays a duty of six per cent, to the king, by an ordinance of
the 8th October 1827. In that year there were exported
about 500,000 arrobas, of wdiich 79,106^ were in the leaf.
The whole wax produced in 1827 was 63,160, and the
amount exported 22,402J arrobas. In the same year the
quantity of cotton raised amounted to 38,142, and the ex¬
port to 23,414 arrobas. Of cacao, the export was only 1953
arrobas, while the whole quantity raised was 23,806 arro¬
bas. Although indigo began to be cultivated as far back
as the year 1795, little has as yet been produced. In
1827 only 56 arrobas were exported, and of wheat only
120 arrobas. The export of molasses was 74,083 hogs¬
heads, and of rum 2457 pipes. Rice is raised in great
abundance, but not to an extent sufficient to supply the
home consumption. In 1827, 520,897 arrobas were pro¬
duced in the island, and 590,8201 arrobas imported. Of
maize, 161,780,600 pounds were raised; and yet there
were imported 70,497 arrobas of the corn, and 4952 bar¬
rels of meal. Of beans there were produced 134,185 ar¬
robas, and imported 58,4181. Notwithstanding this great
production, it is believed that only a seventh part of the
land suitable for cultivation is brought into tillage. The
commerce of the country has of late very much increas¬
ed. In comparison with the other countries under the
Spanish yoke, this island enjoys great privileges. The
trade is principally carried on through the capital, Ha¬
vanna. There have been times when the exports of the
capital amounted to 12,000,000 dollars, and its imports
were above 15,000,000 dollars. In 1827, 17,352,854 dol¬
lars’ worth of merchandise was imported, and 3,565,887
dollars’ worth exported; making the consumption amount
to 13,791,267 dollars, which, after the subtraction of arti¬
cles of food imported for the slaves, leaves 12,291,267
dollars for the value of imported articles consumed by the
525
Cuba.
526
CUBA.
Cuba.
337,126 white and 106,494 coloured free persons; thus
(riving twenty-eight dollars as the average consumption of
each individual during the year. The total value of the
produce of the island was lately estimated at 44,634,343
dollars. In 1827 the commerce of Havanna contributed
to the royal treasury 4,383,262 dollars, whilst in 1815 it
only paid 1,726,9631 dollars. The whole revenue of the
island has been estimated at 7,500,000, and the expenses
of the government at 6,500,000 dollars.
The following is an account of the trade between Cuba
and other countries in 1828, as ascertained by the custom¬
house returns.
Spain 
United States  
Hanseatic Towns 
England 
France 
Netherlands 
Italy. 
Russia   
Portugal  
I Denmark 
1 Sweden    
! Foreign commerce in ships 1
of Cuba j
Imports.
Dollars.
6,556,810
6,599,096
1,747,398
1,770,085
1,635,855
335,507
123,140
85,613
159,444
69,235
21,079
431,553
Exports.
their limits twenty leagues east of the town of Espiritu )
Santo. Since the beginning of 1826, the island has been V
divided, for the purpose of defence, into three military de¬
partments ; these again are subdivided into districts, and
the districts into sections. The departments are under a
o'eneral officer. The eastern department embraces the dis¬
tricts of St Jago, Baracoa, Holguin, Jibara, Jiguani, Cobre,
Tiguabos, Manzanillo, and Bayamo; the central, those of
Puerto Principe, Nuevitas, Trinidad, Espiritu Santo, Villa
de Santa Clara, and St Juan de los Remedios; the west¬
ern, those of Havanna, St Antonio de Compostella, St
Felipe, St Jago del Bejucal, St Antonio Abad de los Ba¬
nos, Guanajay, Guanabacoa, Filipina, Jaruco, Guines, Ma-
tanzas, and Guamutas. These divisions serve as limits
for the jurisdictions of the three intendancies which are
established for the collection and administration of the
public revenue, and the heads of which reside at Havan¬
na, Puerto Principe, and St lago, the capital cities of the
three departments. Education is at a very low ebb in
Cuba, but according to Abbot’s Letters, published at Bos¬
ton in 1829, it is improving. The morals of the people
are loose, the police is weak or inactive, and murders are
frequent. The laws are numerous and contradictory; and
much bribery and corruption prevail in the administra¬
tion of justice. In 1821 the importation of slaves was
prohibited by law; and although it is yet carried on and
tolerated by the authorities of Cuba, in spite of the laws
against it, there is no doubt that it has diminished consi¬
derably in consequence of the efforts and vigilance^of the
English cruisers. The emancipation of Colombia, Mexico,
and the Spanish part of St Domingo, has brought to Cuba
The island is subiect to the King of Spain, and for the almost all the Spaniards who were settled in those coun-
nurposes of government is divided into two political divi- tries, together with many of the Creoles. I he number ot
Dollars.
3,026,245
3,176,964
1,927,561
1,611,820
754,812
881,727
225,740
719,582
11,548
27,953
35,985
711,479
sions.
That on the west is under the immediate control the aboriginal population cannot now be ascertained. The
of the captain-general residing at Havanna. The other European and African population in 1511 did not include
is under a governor appointed by the king, but subject in more than 300 persons. Within the last fifty-two years,
many respects to the captain-general.. It is also divided the population has more than quadrupled. The coloured
^ .... i • — fjjg one governed by population has increased taster than the white, ineiol-
into two ecclesiastical jurisdictions,
Jago, ana tne otner ny a a
bishop, who resides at Havanna. These jurisdictions have ing to the census of 1775 and that of 1827
an archbishop, who resides at St Jago, and the other by a lowing is a classification of the population ot Cuba, accord-
i ore.
CUD
remained in perfect inaction until November, and then re¬
turned to Jamaica, whence they had set out. Notwith¬
standing the bad success of this expedition, the idea of
conquering Cuba was not relinquished by the British. In
1762 a formidable expedition was sent from England,
which joined that in the West Indies, and entered Ha-
vanna on the 6th of June. They were also joined by troops
from America; and notwithstanding a stout resistance
on the part of the Spaniards, the latter were compelled
to surrender on the 13th of August. In the year following,
however, the island was restored to Spain, in exchange
for the Floridas. Since that period, Cuba has remained
a Spanish island, and has been so well fortified that it is
not now in much danger from any attack that can be
made upon it. The forces of the island consist of 9886
regular troops, and 14,560 militia. The navy contains
two seventy-fours, three frigates of fifty guns, one of forty,
one sloop of war, and two brigs of twenty-two guns each,
one brig of twenty, one of sixteen, and six schooners
mounting thirteen guns. (Humboldt’s Personal Narra¬
tive; Encyclopedia Americana, vol. iv.)
CUBE, in Geometry, a solid body consisting of six equal
sides.
CuBE-Uoot of any number or quantity is a number or
quantity which, if multiplied into itself, and then again
the product thence arising by the same number or quan¬
tity, being the cube-root, the last product shall be equal
to the number or quantity of which it is the cube-root.
Thus 2 is the cube-root of 8 ; because two times two is 4,
and two times four is 8; and a + 5 is the cube-root of
«3 -f 3 + 3 abb + IP.
CUBIT, in the mensuration of the ancients, a measure
of length equal to that of a man’s arm from the elbow to
the tip of the fingers. Dr i\rbuthnot makes the English
cubit equal to eighteen inches, the Roman cubit equal to
one foot 5-406 inches, and the cubit of the Scripture
equal to one foot 9-888 inches.
CUCKING-Stool, an engine invented for punishing
scolds and turbulent women, by ducking them in water.
It was called in ancient times a tumbrel, and sometimes a
Inhucht. In Domesday-book it is styled cathedra stercoris ;
and it was in use even in the Saxon times, when it was
described as cathedra in qua rixosce mulieres sedentes aquis
demrgebantar. It was anciently also a punishment in-
icted upon brewers and bakers for transgressing the laws.
. such a st°ol they were immerged over head and ears
w« stercore, that is, in stinking water. Some think it a cor¬
ruption from others from choking-stool, quia
wcmodo demersce aquis fere suffbcantur.
CUCKOW. See Ornithology.
rnrir^118’ ^le See Horticulture.
• ^URBIf, the name of a chemical vessel employed
istillation. It derives its name from its elongated form
a s ape of a gourd. Some cucurbits, however, are shal-
w and wide mouthed. They are made of copper, tin,
& 3ss, and stoneware, according to the nature of the sub-
caiVM8 t0 ^ distilled. A cucurbit, provided with its
alembic COns^tutes ^le vessel for distillation called an
a town of Hindustan, in the south of
wp«f i Prov3nce °f the Carnatic. It is situated on the
turalirn S^°le t^e BenSal ’ and its position, na-
pl ^ strong, would have afforded a more commodious
mandpUi e British settlement on the coast of Coro-
obtainpa laU ^adras* The English East India Company
1681 R ^rant from the rajah of Gingee in the year
quencp constructed a factory, which, in conse-
fortified'in 5 7Ayncr£asing trade’ they wholly rebuilt and
l75g. , . The town was taken by the French in
u m two years afterwards it was recaptured by
cud
527
i> -.7 6 I" 1'82, after the destruction of Colonel Cuddapah
raithwaite s detachment by Tippoo, it was forced to sur- ||
lender to the combined forces of the French and Hyder • Cudworth.
and the works were greatly strengthened, and a strong '—   
garrison sent to defend them. In 1783 it was besieged
by the British, who were repulsed with the loss of 942
killed and wounded, in a desperate attempt to storm the
works. At the conclusion of the peace of 1783, it was
ceded to the British. The adjacent country was fearful¬
ly ravaged during the wars with Hyder Ali, and most of
the inhabitants were forced to fly. It is now compre¬
hended in the British collectorship of Arcot, and is ra¬
pidly recovering from the devastations of war. It is 102
miles S. S. W. from Madras, and fifteen S. S. W. from
Pondicherry. Long. 79. 52. E. Lat. 11. 44. N.
CUDDAPAH, or Curpa, an extensive district of Hin-
dustan, in the province of Golconda> formerly governed
by a nabob, who received his appointment from the court
of Delhi. It subsequently fell into the hands of the Ni¬
zam of the Deccan, by whom, in the year 1800, it was
ceded to the British. It is now subdivided into two col-
lectorships under the Madras government, Cuddapah and
Bellary, the former comprehending the eastern and the
latter the western portion of the Balaghaut ceded dis¬
tricts.^ Ihe principal towns are Cuddapah, Wandicotta,
and Combam. Ihe country, with the exception of the
hilly parts, produces grain, cotton, sugar, and other ar¬
ticles, and is daily improving under the administration of
the English.
Cuddapah, a town and fortress of the above district.
It is mentioned in history in the year 1687 as the resi¬
dence of a nabob under the kings of Golconda; and on
the conquest of that country by the Mahommedans, the
same officer was confirmed in his office by Aurungzebe.
It is now the residence of a British judge and collector of
revenue. Long. 79. E. Lat. 14. 28. N.
CUDDY, in a first-rate man of war, is a place lying
between the captain-lieutenant’s cabin and the quarter¬
deck, and divided into partitions for the master and other
officers. It denotes also a kind of cabin near the stern
of a lighter or barge of burden.
CUDWORTH, Ralph, a very learned philosopher and
divine of the seventeenth century, was born at Aller, in
Somersetshire, in 1617, and studied at Cambridge, where
he distinguished himself as a tutor, and had as a pupil
the celebrated Mr, afterwards Sir William, Temple. In
1641 he was presented to the rectory of North Cadbury,
in Somersetshire ; and the year following published a dis¬
course concerning the true nature of the Lord’s Supper,
which Bochart, Spencer, Selden, and other eminent wri¬
ters have quoted with great commendation. In January
1657, he was one of the persons nominated by a committee
of the parliament to be consulted about the English trans¬
lation of the Bible. In 1678 he published bis True Intellec¬
tual System of the Universe, a work which at the time met
with great opposition. He likewise published a treatise en¬
titled Ztews or the divine goodness vindicated
against the assertions of absolute and unconditionate repro¬
bation. He embraced the mechanical or corpuscular philo¬
sophy ; but with regard to the Deity, spirits, genii, and ideas,
he principally followed the Platonists. He died at Cam¬
bridge in 1688. It has been justly observed, that it is not
easy to meet with a greater storehouse of ancient learning
than the Intellectual System; and various writers have been
indebted to it for an appearance of erudition which they
might not otherwise have been able to assume. That Dr
Cudworth was fanciful in some of his opinions, and that he
was too devoted a follower of Plato and his successors,
will scarcely be denied even by those who are most sen¬
sible of his general merit. But the reflections which have
528
CUD
CUE
Cud worth, been cast upon this great writer by bigotedwritersare
' altogether contemptible. It is often the lot of distingu shed
ment to be thus unworthily treated. Lord Shaftesbury,
sneaking on this subject, has borne honourable testimony to
the merits of Dr cidworth. “ You know,” says Ins lord-
ship, “ the common fate of those who dare to appear fai
authors. What was that pious and learned -an s case v^o
wrote the Intellectual System of the Universe? 1 c«
it was pleasant enough to consider that, th.0US , •
world were not less satisfied with his capadty and learn^g
than with his sincerity in the cause of Deity, y
accused of giving the upper hand to "
ing only stated their reasons, and those of thei r <
fairly together.” “ Though his life,” says Sir James Mack-
intosh, ‘Las devoted to the assertion of d.vme Pro^dence
i;a^inmihch Regard'' for toe LC^r^rites
and opinions with which zealots disturb the world. I hey
represented him as having fallen into the same heresy a
Mfiton and Clarke ; and some of them even charged h.m
with atheism, for no other reason than that he was
afraid to state the atheistic difficulties in their fullest
force. As blind anger heaps inconsistent accusations on
each other, they called him an Arian, a Sociman, or a deist.
The courtiers of Charles II., who were delighted with
every part of Hobbes but his integrity, did their utmost
to decry his antagonist.” (See Dissertation p. 225,
where the reader will find at once the ablest and mosteo-
quent view of the peculiar doctrines and characteristic at¬
tributes of this profound thinker and truly original writer,
which is perhaps to be found in the English language .
But the slanders of fierce polemics and profl^ate cour.
tiers are now only remembered to be detested or despised
and posterity has done justice alike to the traducers and the
traduced. It is observed by Dr Birch that Dr Cu wor s
Intellectual System of the Universe has raised a repu¬
tation to which nothing can add but the publication o
his other writings still extant in manuscript in the British
Museum. That these writings are valuable cannot possi¬
bly be doubted. It is known, indeed, that they display
great compass of sentiment and a vast extent of learning ;
nevertheless, from their bulk, the abstruseness of the sub¬
jects of which they treat, and the revolutions of hterary
taste and opinion, it is pretty certain that the publication
of them would not be successful in the present age. V e
may add, that the Intellectual System was trans ated into
Latin by Mosheim, and published at Jena in 1733, one
volume folio, with a life of Cudworth and notes. Dr
Cudworth’s daughter Damaris, who married Sir Francis
Masham of Oates, in Essex, was a lady of genius and
learning. She had a great friendship for Mr Locke, who
resided several years at her house at Oates; and she had
the honour to nurse the infirmities and to watch the last
breath of that great philosopher, who had been opposed
to her father in speculative philosophy, but who heartily
asreed with him in the love of truth, liberty, and virtue.
&Dr Cudworth, as already stated, left several manu¬
scripts, which seem to be a continuation of his
tual System, of which he gave the world only the first part.
One of these was published by Chandler, bishop of Dur¬
ham in 1731, 8vo, under the title of a Treatise on Eternal
and 'immutable Morality ; a work levelled against the writ¬
ings of Hobbes and others, who had revived the exploded
opinions of Protagaras, by which the essential and eter¬
nal difference of moral good and evil, justice and injus¬
tice, was destroyed, and these attributes were considered
as arbitrary productions of divine and human will. Dr
Cudworth also left several other manuscripts, entitled,
1 A Discourse of Moral Good and Evil; Another Cu.,
Book of Morality, in which Hobbes’s philosophy is ex¬
plained • 3. A Discourse of Liberty and Necessity, in Cu‘L
which the grounds of the atheistical philosophy are con-
futed, and morality vindicated and explained; 4. Another ’ *
book' De Libero Arbitrio ; 5. Upon Daniel’s Prophecy of
the Seventy Weeks, in which all the interpretations of the
Jews are considered and refuted, with several of some
learned Christians ; 6. Of the Verity of the Christian Re¬
ligion against the Jews; 7. A Discourse of the Cieation
of the World and the Immortality of the Soul; 8. Hebrew
Learning; and 9. An Explanation of Hobbes’s notion of
God, and of the extension of Spirits. These manuscripts,
after passing through various hands, and being exposed to
many dangers, are now safely lodged in that noble reposi¬
tory the British Museum. ^ e .
CUENCA, a province of New Castille, in Spain, of
which division it occupies the most eastern part. It is a
very mountainous country in general, though between the
ridges of the hills several rivers run, within the influence
of which some degree of fertility exists. It lies between
38° 55' and 41° 22' north latitude ; its extent is 945 square
leagues ; and its population is 294,290 souls,- or 311 to the
square league. It is the most thinly peopled of any part
of the peninsula, the average population of which is 690
t0 The mers* Xucar, Gabriel, Guadiela, and Gallo, run
through the province, and discharge their waters into the
Tagus The hills abound with timber well calculated lor
the construction of ships, but the expense of conveyance
forbids its being extensively applied to that use. _ Con¬
siderable flocks of Merino sheep are depastured in the
spring and summer in this province, and the wool pro¬
duced in it is considered as the finest in all Spain. The ca¬
pital city, Cuenca, is situated in a very barren country, and
a cold dry climate; it is near the river Xucar and is ex¬
tensive, containing 12,000 inhabitants. It is the see of a
bishop, and has a most sumptuous cathedral, and several
other rich churches and convents. The mhabi ants are
said to have more of the unmixed ancient Castilian cha¬
racter than the people of any other large town in Spam.
The city is situated in long. 2. 16. \\. and lat. 40. 7. N.
Branches of the Sierras Molina, Cnen^a, and Campiflos,
run through the province. It contaif 4350ph£^
mules, 26,035 asses, 22,780 oxen and cows, 922,000 sheep,
94,000 goats, and 18,000 swine. Besides, the wool, the
flax, and esparto of this province are good; it possesses
also some soap, glass, iron, porcelain, and esparto »
factories. It contains two cities, 240 towns, and thirt)
seven villages. This province enjoys the privileges and
laws of Castille, and is under the captain .general of Mad-
rid. In the capital there is a tribunal of the inquisition
established. There are several woollen and linen manu¬
factories, and paper mills. . ,. • r, -tn
CUENZA, or Bamba, a town of Colombia, in Qut,
and the capital of a province. The streets “e s“g”d
broad, and the houses are mostly built of unburned brie
The town contains three churches, four conven
nunneries, an hospital, a chamber o nanc ’ q^g
edifices. The environs are very fertile and pleasant,
population amounts to about 20,000. Long.
LaCUERENHERT, Theodore Van, a very re™ark^
person, was a native of Amsterdam where he ^as bornor
1522. He was a man of science, and, accordl"f d Ps an
also a poet. The sister arts at first he considered as an
amusement only ; but in the end he was obliged to
recourse to engraving alone for his SUPP ’j. ime pre.
the different studies in which he employed h t P ^
vented his attachment to his profession being as
GUI
Cuei
II
^uira
it might have been, yet the marks of genius are discover¬
able in his works. They are slight, and hastily executed
with the graver alone, but in an open careless style, so as
to resemble designs made with a pen. He established
himself at Haerlem, where pursuing his favourite studies
in literature, be learned Latin, and was made secretary to
the town ; he was also sent several times as ambassador to
the Prince of Orange, to whom he addressed a famous ma¬
nifesto, which that prince published in 1566. And if he had
stopped there, it would have been well; but directing his
thoughts into a different channel, he undertook an argument
as dangerous as it was absurd. He maintained that all re¬
ligious communions were corrupted; and that, without a
supernatural mission, accompanied with miracles, no per¬
son had a right to administer in any religious office. He
therefore pronounced every man who entered any place
of public worship to be unworthy the name of Christian ;
and this he not only advanced in words, but strove to
show the sincerity of his belief by practice, refusing to
communicate either with Protestants or Catholics. His
works were published in three volumes folio in 1630; and
though he was several times imprisoned, and at last sen¬
tenced to banishment, yet he does not appear to have al¬
tered his sentiments. He died at Dergoude in 1590, aged
sixty-eight.
CUEHPO. To walk in cuerpo is a Spanish phrase for
going without a cloak, or without the formalities of a full
dress.
CUFA, a town of Irak Arabi, founded by the caliph
Omar after the ruin of Ctesiphon. It was the residence
of the caliphs until Almanzor removed the seat of govern¬
ment to Bagdad. It afterwards fell into-decay, and at
present there remains little more of it than the mosque
in which Ali was assassinated. This is a plain building
of a square form, and is still held in high veneration by
the Mahommedans. It is ninety miles south of Bagdad.
CUFF, Henry, the unfortunate secretary of the unfor¬
tunate Earl of Essex, was born at Hinton St George, in
Somersetshire, about the year 1560, and descended of a re¬
spectable family, who were possessed of considerable estates
in that county. In 1576 he was entered of Trinity Col¬
lege, Oxford, where he soon acquired considerable repu¬
tation as a Greek scholar and disputant. He obtained a
fellowship in the above-mentioned college; but he was
subsequently expelled for speaking disrespectfully of the
founder. He was, however, soon afterwards admitted of
Merton College, of which, in 1586, he was elected proba¬
tioner, and in 1588 fellow. In this year he took the degree
of master of arts. Some time afterwards he was elected
professor of Greek, and in 1594 appointed proctor of the
university. It is uncertain when lie left Oxford ; nor are
we better informed as to the means of his introduction to
the Earl of Essex. When that nobleman, however, was
made lord-lieutenant of Ireland, Mr Cuff was appointed
his secretary, and continued intimately connected with his
lordship until his confinement in the tower; and he is ge¬
nerally supposed to have advised those violent measures
which ended in their mutual destruction. The earl in¬
deed confessed as much before his execution, and char¬
ged Cuff to his face with being the author of all his mis¬
fortunes. The unlucky secretary was tried for high trea¬
son, convicted, and executed at Tyburn on the 30th of
March 1601. Lord Bacon, Sir Henry Wotton, and Cam¬
den, speak of him in very harsh terms. But he was cer¬
tainly a man of learning and abilities. He wrote two books :
the one entitled The Differences of the Ages of Mans Life ;
the other De Rebus Gestis in Sancto Concilia Niceeno.
The first was published after his death, but the second is
still in manuscript.
CUIRASSE, a piece of defensive armour made of iron
VOL. VII,
c U J 529
plate, well hammered, and serving to cover the body, from Cuiras-
the neck to the girdle, both before and behind. Some s'ers
derive the word from the Italian cuore, the heart, because II.
tho cuiiasse covered that part; others from the French t uJas*
cuii, or the Latin corium, leather, because defensive arms
were originally made of leather. Cuirasses were not brought
into use till about the year 1300, though they were known
in different forms, both to the ancient Greeks and Romans.
CUIRASSIERS, a sort of heavy cavalry armed with
cuirasses. All the powers and states of the Continent,
great and small, have at present, we believe, regiments of
cuirassiers ; and Great Britain has at length followed their
example, the regiments of life guards being now provided
with cuirasses. The propriety of this innovation, however,
has been much questioned by very competent judges.
The cavalry of this description in the French army, who
fought at Waterloo, had, until that time, been thought al¬
most invincible ; and such was their reputation for courage
and daring, that “ brave comme un cuirassier” had be¬
come a proverb in the French army. But, notwithstand¬
ing their gallantry and musket-proof armour, they were
completely routed and destroyed by the superior weight
and dexterity of the life guards; a proof, as it should
seem, that the latter required no such protection. But
those in command of our army thought differently; and
not long after our heavy cavalry had thus established its
superiority in battle, the men were encased in armour.
CUJAb, in Latin Cujacius, James, was born at Tou¬
louse in 1520. His father was a fuller, and his real name
Cujaus, but, by way of softening it, he afterwards abridged
it into Cujas. But if, when young and poor, he curtailed
his name, at a more advanced age, when fortune had be¬
come more propitious, he extended it, and then subscribed
himself Jacques de Cujas. His happy disposition enabled
him to surmount all the difficulties which the obscure con¬
dition in which he had been born seemed to throw in the
way of his advancement. By his own exertions, and without
the assistance of any master, he learned Greek and Latin ;
and he was instructed in the elements of law by Arnoul
Terrier, then professor at Toulouse, a man who, when call¬
ed to higher employments, distinguished himself by great
talents united to great virtues. Cujas always cherished
the most affectionate regard for his master. The know¬
ledge which he had imbibed from Ferrier became, as it
were, the germ of that which he himself acquired by the
efforts of his own genius, and by his extreme ardour in
study. Cujas was employed as tutor to the children of
the president Uufaur, who afterwards became a distinguish¬
ed personage; and for their instruction, as well as that
of some other young persons whose education he super¬
intended, he began, in the year 1547, to give lessons on
the Institutions of Justinian. Etienne Pasquier, who was
present at the first of these, says, that he then discovered
a clear and vigorous mind, which gave great promise of
future excellence ; and Antoine Loisel, who attended the
lessons with the greatest assiduity, declares that Cujas pre¬
vented him from abandoning the science of law, with which
the other doctors had disgusted him by their barbarism.
His merit, however, would not seem to have been fully .
appreciated in his native place. A chair of law having,
it is said, become vacant at Toulouse in 1554, Cujas not
only failed in obtaining it, but he had the mortification of
seeing the preference given to one Forcadel, a person of
very moderate abilities, and in all respects confessedly his
inferior. The city of Toulouse, however, conceiving its
honour to be interested in contesting a fact founded on a
well-accredited tradition, and of which the odium could
only attach to the individual protectors of ignorance and
intrigue, its chief magistrates, on the occasion of placing
the bust of Cujas in their gallery in the year 1674, affixed
3 x
530
C U J A S.
to the inscription a solemn and indignant denial of the
imputation cast upon their predecessors. And it has also
been remarked, that Cujas makes no mention, in any of
his numerous writings, of the injustice which he is alleged
to have experienced at the hands of his townsmen ; but
little weight seems to be due to this observation, because
it is not improbable that Cujas might have avoided any al¬
lusion to a disagreeable subject. Besides, John Robert of
Orleans, with whom Cujas had some keen altercations,
meanly reproaches him with having been thrice rejected
at Toulouse in his applications for a professorship ot law;
and Cujas is evidently embarrassed in his reply to the in¬
sulting allegation. He says, “ that Robert lies at least in
regard to two of these alleged rejections, and probably
even in regard to the third; that, moreover, aftei he had
been called to Cahors, and then to Bourges, the inhabit¬
ants of Toulouse had used the most pressing entreaties td
induce him to return among them.” The town of lou-
louse, however, had the misfortune of not being able to
attach to its school a man whose merit, which had for seven
years been fully recognised, could not fail to add to the
lustre which it had already acquired. But that of Cahors
was more fortunate. A chair having become vacant there
by the retirement of Govea, in 1554, Cujas was appointed
to fill it; and he was followed by almost^ all his pupils.
But he only remained about a year at Cahors; patrons
worthy of him having stepped forward to withdraw him
from the obscure theatre where he had been content to
exert his great talents. Margaret of Valois, duchess of
Berri, inheriting the love which her father, krancis I., bore
to men of letters, had already given proofs of her discern¬
ment in choosing as her chancellor Michel de 1 Hopital,
who afterwards, in the highest dignity of the state, ex¬
hibited a character so elevated and a patriotism so pure.
Wishing to render the school of Bourges, the chief place
of her apanage, the most celebrated of all those which
had as yet existed, Margaret intrusted L’Hopital with the
choice of professors; and he wras not slow in discerning the
merit of Cujas, whom he called to Bourges, where he had
already placed Baudouin and Duaren, the latter of whom
had taught there since the year 1538. Duaren at first re¬
ceived Cujas favourably; but, either from weakness or seni¬
lity, he soon became jealous of the young professor, and,
unable to endure the popularity which the latter almost
immediately acquired, he had recourse to every expedient
in order to rid himself of so formidable a rival. With this
view he stirred up the students against the new professor,
and such was the disorder produced in consequence at
Bourges, that Cujas was obliged to yield to the storm, and
to retire to Valence. But this persecution became useful
to him, by inspiring him with such a degree of emulation,
that he applied himself with greater vigour to the study
of law, which the levity natural to his age would otherwise
perhaps have induced him to abandon. Recalled to Bour¬
ges by order of the Duchess of Berri, he remained there
till 1567, when he returned to Valence, on the invitation
of Bertrand de Simiane, lieutenant-general of the king in
Dauphine, and reflected greatlustre to the university of that
city, to which young men flocked from all quarters in order
to study under him. In 1570 Cujas was elected professor
in the university of Avignon ; but his first wife, who belong¬
ed to that city, having recently before this died, Cujas re¬
solved to remain at Valence. But Margaret of Valois,
who had now become Duchess of Savoy, persuaded him
to repair to Turin, where, however, he only remained a few
months. His scholars and friends at Bourges induced him to
return thither towards the end of 1575. But the troubles
which threatened that city forced him to seek a retreat
elsewhere, and his first intention was to proceed to An¬
gers, where the people were most desirous of having him ;
but the orders of the king called him to Paris, where, Cm-i f
on the requisition of the procureur-general, and the re-wj f
port of M. Anjorrant, the parliament passed an arret, by *
which Cujas, who is declared to be a person of great and
singular learning and erudition, is permitted^ “ de faire
lecture et profession en droit civil en 1’universite de Paris
a species of instruction which was then interdicted in the
university, and in fact only established there under Louis
XIV. Terrasson has supposed that he himself was the first
to publish this arret; but it is found, together with some
other particulars respecting Cujas, in the remarks of Me¬
nage on the life of Pierre Ayrault. Cujas remained at Paris
only about a year, and returned to Bourges, which he
never afterwards quitted, in 1577. In 1584 Gregory XIII.
who was himself well skilled in the civil and canon law,
wished to draw Cujas to Bologna, thinking that something
would be wanting to the glory of that city if it did not
reckon among its professors a man of so distinguished
merit; and Cujas was on the point of yielding to the
pressing solicitations of the pontiff; but his attachment
for his pupils prevailed over every other consideration,
and retained him in France. At the commencement of his
works, in the edition of Fabrot, are somevery curious verses,
composed at Blois, for the purpose of dissuading him
from proceeding to Bologna. Who, then, it may be asked,
was this man, whom all the countries of Europe sought
after, and who, in an age which produced Du Moulin and
so many other celebrated jurisconsults, placed himself
foremost in the first rank, and eclipsed all his rivals by
the superiority of his knowledge and the lustre of his re¬
nown ? In order to appreciate his works, we must remem¬
ber the period at which he appeared. The civilization of
Europe had barely commenced ; and jurisprudence was
regarded as the science most proper to accelerate its pro¬
gress, by diffusing correct notions of reason and justice.
But from want of erudition, and from ignorance of criticism,
the first interpreters of the Roman law had only a very im¬
perfect knowledge of the system which they professed to
expound ; and it is mainly to Cujas that the world is in¬
debted for the advancement which the study of this great
body of written wisdom has made since his time. The
old interpreters had only been able to deduce some gene¬
ral maxims, and some rules of private law, which they ap¬
plied to the manners, still rude, of the times in which they
lived. The minds of men were not as yet prepared for any
thing more perfect. They wanted that degree of matu¬
rity necessary to receive the light in all its purity. The
same thing is observable in the history of ancient Rome.
There is as great a distance between the law of the twelve
tables and that system which, in the first two or three
centuries of our era, the Papinians, the Ulpians, and other
geniuses of the first order, created, as between the man¬
ners of a semibarbarous people and those of a nation ar¬
rived at the highest degree of civilization. It may be said
of legislation, indeed, with still greater truth than even ot
literature, that it is the reflected image of society. In pro¬
portion as the civilization of Europe improved, jurispru¬
dence advanced towards perfection ; and Cujas came, at
a seasonable moment, to lay open its true sources. Re
had read the works of the old interpreters ; but he had de¬
rived nothing but disgust from the perusal. Repelled by
the barbarism of their language as much as by the vicious
method which they had followed, Cujas resolved to app y
himself solely to the text of the Roman laws, to illus¬
trate whatever wras obscure in them, to restore passages
which had been altered by time or the ignorance of copy¬
ists, and to fix the true signification of the words whic
were there employed. In prosecution of this design, tne
knowledge which he possessed of the ancient language ,
and the vast erudition which he had acquired by fflea
C U J A S.
of them, were of admirable service to him. Not only did
'he consult books; he made a still greater use of manu¬
scripts, of which he had collected more than five hundred
in his own library. The corrections which he made, not
only in books of law, but in a great number of ancient
Greek and Latin authors, are immense. He in part col¬
lected these, under the 'title of Observations and Correc¬
tions; and this work is still a fertile mine, which philologers
continually explore with advantage. Nor did he confine
ihis researches to the books compiled by order of Justi¬
nian, but extended them to every thing which had the
smallest relation to the subject, or which entered into the
jurisprudence of modern times. He recovered and gave
to the world a part of the Theodosian code, with explana-
11 tions; and he procured the manuscript of the Basilica (a
species of abridgment in Greek, which the successors of
Justinian had made of his laws), from which manuscript
they were afterwards published by Fabrot. Besides, he
composed a learned commeptary on the Consuetudines
Feudorum, and on some books of the Decretals. In fact,
Cujas was not only a learned man; he was what is far
better, a man of profound sagacity. It is by no means
uncommon to find writers who, in all sciences, have been
able to master some isolated parts; but to embrace the
whole in one comprehensive view, to ascend to the funda¬
mental principles from which all the others are derived,
and to condense in brief maxims the kernel of.all the con¬
sequences which flow from them, is a power which has
only been given to a small number of privileged men of
genius, distinguished from the common herd, who are
wholly incapable of such a concentration. This was pre¬
eminently the talent of Cujas. In the Paratitla, or sum¬
maries which he made of the Digest, and particularly of
the Code of Justinian, he condensed into short axioms the
elementary principles of law, and gave definitions remark¬
able for their admirable clearness and precision. Hotto-
man, a distinguished jurisconsult, the rival and the enemy
of Cujas, earnestly recommends to his son to take along
with him in his journeys these Paratitla or summaries, and
to study them with indefatigable assiduity. Instead of the
semibarbarous jurisprudence of the early interpreters, Cu¬
jas substituted that of the most polished ages of Rome;
and those who succeeded him have been able to do little
more than to confirm his views. All the jurisconsults of
Europe indeed are agreed in considering him as the first
and greatest of the interpreters of law, one whom none
can equal, much less surpass, in the art of teaching and
expounding it. “ Cujas,” said D’Aguesseau, “ has spoken
the language of law better than any modern, and perhaps
as well as any ancient.” His lessons, which he never dic¬
tated, were continuous discourses, for which he made no
other preparation than that of profound meditation on
the subjects to be discussed. His scholars, particularly
the Germans, wrote down at the moment his discourses,
as well as the rapidity of utterance would permit; and
afterwards, by comparing their notes together, they suf¬
fered but little of what fell from him to escape them.
He was impatient of interruption, and upon the least
noise he would instantly quit the chair and retire. The
use of theses, which has been continued in the modern
schools, had already been introduced; but these exercises,
so common and so useless at present, entered not into
the ordinary plan of the lessons of Cujas. The honour
of supporting a thesis under him was the reward of the
highest merit, and it was but rarely conferred. Loisel has
preserved that which Pierre Pithou composed on quitting
the school of Cujas; and it is certainly a very masterly
production of its kind. Cujas was strongly attached to
his pupils; and Scaliger affirms that he lost more than
mur thousand livres by lending money to such of them as
were in want. During the thirty years he taught, their
number was immense, for pupils flocked from all parts of
Europe to his school; and many of them, like Scaliger
and the brothers Pithou, afterwards became his most in¬
timate friends. None of them who showed distinguished
talents escaped his observation; and he advanced the for¬
tunes of several by making known their merits. From his
school there issued magistrates of the first rank, and able
ministers and negociators, whose talents proved highly
serviceable to their country; whilst others carried to the
bar and the bench the lights which they had there ac¬
quired, and contributed essentially to the great progress
which jurisprudence made in the century which followed.
Such were the fruits of a life entirely devoted to the pub¬
lic good, and of which no species of ambition ever dis¬
turbed the tranquil tenor. Indeed it appears that Cujas
never even solicited the honours which he enjoyed. In
1573, during his residence at Valence, Charles XL appoint¬
ed him honorary counsellor to the parliament of Grenoble ;
Henry III., by letters patent, dated at Lyons in 1574, also
conferred upon him a small pension, with the titular rever¬
sion of the first vacant office ; and, by other letters dated
the year following, Cujas was permitted to continue his in¬
structions at Valence, and to draw the emoluments of his
office of counsellor without discharging its duties. In the
year 1582, however, Cujas resigned his office in favour of
Charles de Dome, advocate to the parliament of Grenoble;
but this court, annoyed at his quitting Valence, repeated¬
ly refused to accept his resignation, and only received it in
consequence of a positive order to that effect. Merit so
eminent as his could scarcely fail to excite envy; and he
had detractors, whom, however, he crushed by the weight
of his reputation. His sentiments and opinions were irre¬
proachable, and, in an age of civil discord, he never varied
nor changed. Cujas was sincerely attached to the religion
of his fathers; but he steadily refused to take any part in
the theological controversies which so greatly agitated
the times in which he lived. Nihil hoc ad edictum prce-
toris, “ this has nothing to do with the edict of the prse-
tor,” was his usual answer to those who spoke to him on
the subject. He was far, indeed, from participating in
the fury engendered by the league; and his fidelity to
Henry IV. remained unshaken, a circumstance which
frequently exposed him to danger at Bourges, where the
leaguers predominated. But vexation on account of the
evils which preyed upon France is supposed to have has¬
tened his death, which happened at Bourges the 4th of
October 1590. His library, which was of very consider¬
able extent, containing manuscripts as well as printed
books of all kinds, a great number of which were enrich¬
ed with remarks by his own hand, he ordered by his will
to be sold in detail, from an apprehension lest, if it fell
into the hands a single individual, advantage might be
taken of his notes by persons who did not understand
them, to compose works injurious to his reputation. His
wishes were complied with to an extent he had never
contemplated; for the booksellers of Lyons, who purchas¬
ed his manuscripts, employed them to cover rudiments
for the schools. In his lifetime he published an edition
of his works, printed at Nivelle in 1577. It is beautiful
and exact, but now very scarce, and contains only a part
of his works. The same observation applies to the edi¬
tion of Colombet, published in 1634. Fabrot, however,
collected the whole in the edition which he published
at Paris, 1658, in 10 vols. folio, and which was reprinted
at Naples, 1722, 1727, in 11 vols. folio, and thereafter at
Naples and at Venice, 1758, in 10 vols. folio, with an in¬
dex forming an eleventh volume. In the editions of Naples
and Venice there are some additions, not to be found in
that of Fabrot, particularly a general table, which will be
532
CULLEN.
Ouldee
I!
Cullen.
found very useful, and interpretations of all the Greek
words used by Cujas. (Terrasson, Histotre de la Junspru-
denre Romaine, and Melanges d'Histoire, de Litterature, et
de Jurisprudence; Bernardi, Eloge de Cujas; Hugo, C^-
listisches Magazin; Berriat St Frit, Memoires de Cujas,
appended to his Histoire du Droit Romani; Biographic
Universelle, art. Cujas.) (A'J. .
CULDEE, in Ecclesiastical History, a sort ot monkisli
priests formerly inhabiting Scotland and Ireland. Being re-
m’arkable for the religious exercises of preaching and pray¬
ing, they were called, by way ot eminence, ei cu ores,
and hence seems to be derived the word .11^7
made choice of one of their own fraternity to be them sp “
ritual head, who was afterwards called the Scotch Bishop.
CULEUS, in Roman antiquity, the largest measure o
capacity for things liquid, containing twenty amphorae, or
forty urn^. It contained 143 gallons three pints English
wine-measure, or 11,095 solid inches. c
CULLEN, a royal burgh of Scotland, in the county of
Banff. It is situated on a commanding eminence whici
overlooks the sea, and possesses a harbour, which, however,
is of little use. The manufacture and bleaching of linen
goods are now carried on with considerable success, and
dried fish are exported to some extent. ^ There i» an an¬
nual fair held here on the last luesday of September. I
1821 the population of the burgh and parish amounted to
1452, and in 1831 to 1593. , . . ^ j-
Cullen, Dr William, an eminent physician and med -
cal teacher, was born in Lanarkshire, in the west of Scot¬
land, on the 11th of December 1712. His father was for
some time chief magistrate of the town of Hamilton ; but
though a very respectable man, his circumstances were
not such as to permit him to expend much money on the
education of his son. William, therefore, after serving an
apprenticeship to a surgeon apothecary in Glasgow, went
several voyages to the West Indies as a surgeon in a trad¬
ing vessel from London ; but of this employment he soon
became tired, and settled himself, at an eariy penod of
life, as a country surgeon in the parish of bhotts, wl e e
he resided a short time practising among the tanners ana
country people, and then went to Hamilton with a view
to practise as a physician, having never been fond of ope¬
rating as a surgeon. e \ u
Whilst he resided near Shotts, Archibald duke of Argyll,
who at that time bore the chief political sway in Scotland,
chanced to pay a visit to a gentleman of rank in that neigh¬
bourhood. The duke was fond of literary pursuits, and
was then particularly engaged in some chemical researches,
which required to be elucidated by experiment. Eager in
these pursuits, his grace, while on his visit, found himself
much at a loss from the want of some small chemical appa¬
ratus, which his landlord could not furnish ; but the latter
happily recollecting young Cullen, mentioned him to the
duke as a person who could probably furnish what he
wanted. Cullen was accordingly invited to dine, and thus
introduced to his grace, who was so much pleased with his
knowledge, politeness, and address, that he formed an ac¬
quaintance which laid the foundation of Dr Cullen s future
advancement. ., . „
The name of Cullen had by this time become familiar
at every table in the neighbourhood, a circumstance which
made him known by reputation to the Duke of Hamilton,
who then resided for a short time in that part of the coun¬
try; and his grace having been suddenly taken ill, the
assistance of young Cullen was called in. This proved a
fortunate occurrence, as it served to promote his advance¬
ment to a station in life more suited to his talents than
that in which he had hitherto moved. , ,
The duke was highly delighted with the sprightly cha¬
racter and ingenious conversation ot his new acquaint¬
ance ; and receiving instruction from the latter in a much Cayf f
more, pleasing and an infinitely easier way than he had ^ f
ever before obtained it, the conversation of Cullen proved
highly interesting to the duke. Accordingly his grace
soon found means to get his favourite doctor, who was
already the esteemed acquaintance of the man through
whose hands all preferments in Scotland were obliged to
pass, appointed to a place in the university of Glasgow,
where his singular talents for discharging the duties of
teacher soon became very conspicuous.
During his residence in the country, however, several
important incidents occurred, which ought not to be
passed over in silence. It was during this time that a
connection in business was formed in a very humble line
between two men, who became afterwards eminently con¬
spicuous in much more exalted stations. ’William, after¬
wards Dr Hunter, the celebrated lecturer on anatomy
in London, was a native of the same part of the country;
and not being in affluent circumstances any more than
Cullen, these two young men, stimulated by the impulse
of genius to prosecute their medical studies with ardour,
but thwarted by the narrowness of their fortune, entered
into a copartnery business as surgeons and apothecaries
in the country. The chief object of their contract being
to furnish the parties with the means of prosecuting their
medical studies, which they could not so well enjoy sepa¬
rately, it vvas stipulated that one of them should alternate¬
ly be allowed to study in whatever college he inclined, du¬
ring the winter, whilst the other should carry on the busi¬
ness in the country for the common advantage. In con¬
sequence of this arrangement, Cullen was first allowed to
study in the university of Edinburgh for one winter; but
when it came to Hunter’s turn next winter, he preferred
London to Edinburgh, and accordingly proceeded to the
former place. Here his singular neatness in dissecting*
and uncommon dexterity in making anatomical prepara¬
tions, his assiduity in study, his mildness of manner and
pliability of temper, soon recommended him to the notice
of Dr Douglas, who then read lectures upon anatomy and
midwifery, and who engaged Hunter as an assistant in dis¬
charging the duties of the chair which the latter after¬
ward^ li?led with so much honour to himself and satisfac¬
tion to the public.
Thus was dissolved, in a premature manner, a copart¬
nership of as singular a kind as is to be found in the annals
of literature ; nor was Cullen a man of a disposition to let
any engagement with him prove a bar to his partners ad¬
vancement in life. The articles were freely departed from
by him ; and Cullen and Hunter ever afterwards kept up a
very cordial and friendly correspondence, though it is be¬
lieved they never from that time had a personal interview.
During the period that Cullen practised as a country
surgeon and apothecary, he formed another connection o
a more permanent kind, which, happily for him, was no
dissolved till a very late period of his life. With the ar¬
dour of disposition which he possessed, it cannot be sup
posed that he beheld the fair sex with indifference. Very
early in life he formed a strong attachment for an amiable
woman, Miss Johnston, daughter of a clergyman in the
neighbourhood; and being nearly of his own age, she was
prevailed on to unite her fortune with his, at a time w e
he had nothing else to recommend him to hei except is
person and dispositions. After producing to him a nume¬
rous family, and participating with him m the changes
fortune which he experienced, she died m the sum
of 1786. . ,i jp.
In the year 1746, Cullen, who had now taken the ae
gree of doctor in physic, was appointed lecturer in t
mistry in the university of Glasgow; and in the mon
October he began his lectures on that science. 1 0
CULLEN.
533
i gular talents for arrangement, his distinctness of enuncia-
! tion, his vivacity of manner, and his knowledge of the
science which he taught, rendered his lectures interesting
to the students in a degree* till then unknown at the uni¬
versity. He became, therefore, in some measure, the idol
iof the students. The former professors were eclipsed by
the brilliancy of his reputation ; and he had to experience
:all those little difficulties which envy and disappointed am-
Ibition naturally threw in his way. Regardless, however, of
!these secret chagrins, he pressed forward with ardour in
Jhis literary career; and, supported by the favour of the
ipublic, he consoled himself for the contumely which he
:met with from a few individuals. His practice as a phy¬
sician increased from day to day; and a vacancy having
occurred in the year 1751, he was then appointed by the
iking professor of medicine in that university. This new
appointment served only to call forth his powers, and to
Ibring to light talents which he was not formerly known to
possess; so that his fame continued to increase.
About this period the patrons of the university of Edin¬
burgh being constantly on the watch for the most emi¬
nent medical men to support the rising fame of their col¬
lege, their attention was soon directed towards Cullen;
and on the death of Dr Plummer, professor of chemistry,
he was, in 1756, unanimously invited to fill the vacant
chair. This invitation he accepted; and having resigned
his employments in Glasgow, he, in the month of October
of that year, commenced his academical career in Edin¬
burgh, where he resided till his death.
If the admission of Cullen into the university of Glas¬
gow gave great spirit to the exertions of the students, this
was, if possible, still more strongly felt in Edinburgh.
Chemistry, which till that time had been of small account
in our university, and attended to by very few of the
students, instantly became a favourite study ; and the lec¬
tures upon this science were more frequented than any
others in the university, anatomy alone gxcepted. The
students in general spoke of Cullen with fhe rapturous
irdour which is natural to youth when they are highly
pleased. But as these eulogiums appeared extravagant to
moderate men, and could not fail to prove disgusting to
bis colleagues, a party was formed among the students
:'or opposing this new favourite of the public ; and, by mis-
•epresenting the doctrines of Cullen to those who could
lot have an opportunity of hearing those doctrines them¬
selves, they induced some even of the most intelligent
oen in the university to think it their duty publicly to
tppose these imaginary tenets. The ferment was thus
i lugmented; and some time elapsed before the professors
liscovered the arts by which they had been imposed
1 ipon, and before harmony was restored.
During this ferment Cullen went steadily forward, with-
iut taking any part whatever in these disputes. He never
;ave ear to tales respecting his colleagues, nor took no¬
ice of the doctrines which they taught; and although
ome of their unguarded strictures may at times have
:ome to his knowledge, these seemed to make no impres-
ion whatever on his mind.
fhe attempts of a party of students to lower the cha-
acter ot Cullen at his first outset in the university of
Edinburgh having proved fruitless, his fame as a profes-
or, and his reputation as a physician, became more and
nore extensive every day. Nor could it well be other¬
wise. . Cullen’s professional knowledge was always great,
nd his manner of lecturing singularly clear and intelli-
ible, lively and entertaining; whilst to his patients Ids
eneral conduct as a physician was so pleasing, his address
o affable and engaging, and his manner so open, kind,
nd little regulated by pecuniary considerations, that it
as impossible for those who had occasion to avail them>-
selves once of his medical assistance, ever to be satisfied Cullen,
on any future occasion without it. He became the friend
and companion of every family he visited, and his future
acquaintance could not be dispensed with.
Ihe general conduct of Cullen to his students was
excellent. With all whom he observed to be attentive
and diligent he formed an early acquaintance, by inviting
them in small parties at a time to sup with him, com
versing with them on these occasions with the most en-
gaging ease, and freely entering with them on the sub¬
ject of their studies, their amusements, their difficulties,
their hopes, and future prospects. In this way he usually
invited the whole of his numerous class, till he had made
himself acquainted with their abilities, their private cha¬
racter, and their particular objects of pursuit. Those
amongst them whom he found the most assiduous, the best
disposed, or the most friendless, he invited the most fre¬
quently, till an intimacy was gradually formed, which
proved highly beneficial to them. Their doubts with re¬
gard to their objects of study he listened to with atten¬
tion, and solved with the most obliging condescension.
His library, which consisted of an excellent assortment of
the best books, especially on medical subjects, was at all
times open for their accommodation; and his advice, in
every case of difficulty to them, they had it always in
their power to obtain. They seemed to be his family;
and few persons of distinguished merit left the. university
of Edinburgh in his time, with whom he did not keep up
a correspondence till they were fairly established in busi¬
ness. By these means he came to have a most accurate
knowledge of the state of every country, with respect to
practitioners in the medical line; and the only use he
made of this knowledge was to direct students in their
choice of places, where they might have an opportunity
of engaging in business with a reasonable prospect of
success.
'Nor was it in this way only that he befriended the stu-
dents^the university of Edinburgh. Possessing a bene¬
volence of^n in d which made him ever think first of tlie
wants of others, and recollecting the difficulties which he
had himself had to struggle with in his younger days, he
was at all times singularly attentive to their pecuniary
concerns. From his general acquaintance among the stu¬
dents, and the friendly habits he cultivated with many of
them, he found no difficulty in discovering those among
them who were in' rather embarrassed circumstances,
without being obliged to hurt their delicacy in any de¬
gree. To such persons, when their habits of study ad¬
mitted of it, he was peculiarly attentive. They were more
frequently invited to his house than others ; they were
treated with more than usual kindness and familiarity;
they were conducted to his library, and encouraged by
the most delicate address to borrow from it freely what¬
ever books he thought they had occasion for;—and as
persons in these circumstances were usually more back¬
ward in this respect than others, books were sometimes
pressed upon them by the doctor insisting on having their
opinion of such or such passages they had not read, and
desiring them to carry the book home for that purpose.
In short, he behaved to them rather as if he courted their
company, and stood in need of their acquaintance, than
otherwise ; and he thus raised them in the opinion of their
acquaintance to a much higher degree of estimation than
they could otherwise have obtained; conduct which, to
persons whose minds were depressed by penury, and whose
sense of honour was sharpened by the consciousness of an
inferiority of a certain kind, proved singularly engaging.
In this way they were inspired with a secret sense of dig¬
nity, which elevated their minds, and excited an uncom¬
mon ardour of pursuit, instead of that melancholy inactivity
534
Cullen.
many years longer as he pleased.
The first lectures which Cullen delivered in Edinburgh
were on chemistry; and for many years he also gave cli¬
nical lectures on the cases which occurred in the Royal
Infirmary. In the month of February 1763, Dr Alston
died, after having begun his usual course of lectures on
the materia medica; and the magistrates of Edinburgh,
as patrons of that professorship in the university, appoint¬
ed Dr Cullen to the chair, requesting that he would finish
the course of lectures which had been begun for that sea¬
son. This he agreed to do; and though he was under the
necessity of going on with the course in a few days after
he was nominated, he did not once think of reading the
lectures of his predecessor, but resolved to deliver an en¬
tirely new course of his own. The popularity of Cullen
at this time may be guessed by the increase of students
who came to attend his course in addition to the eight or
ten who had entered to Dr Alston. The new students
An imperfect copy of these lectures,
CULLEN.
which is so natural in such circumstances, and which too lectures on the practice of physic in the winter of 1766, and qi
/ often leads to despair. Nor was he less delicate in the man- Dr Gregory succeeded him in that branch the following U w
ner of supplying their wants, than attentive to discover year. Never perhaps was a literary arrangement entered ■
them. He often found out some polite excuse for refusing into which could have proved more beneficial to the stu-
to take payment for a first course, and never was at a loss for dents than this. Both these men possessed great talents
one as to an after course. Before they could have an op- though of a kind extremely dissimilar. Both of them had
portunity of applying for a ticket, he would sometimes lead certain failings or detects, which the other was aware of,
the conversation to a subject which had occurred in the and counteracted. Each of them knew and respected the
course of his lectures; and as his lectures were never put talents of the other. They co-operated, therefore m the
in writing by himself, he would beg the favour to see their happiest manner to enlarge the understanding and to for-
notes, if he knew they had been taken with attention, ward the pursuits of their pupils. But unfortunately this
' under a nretext of assistimr his memory. Sometimes he arrangement was soon put an end to by the unexpected
expressed^a/wtsh^to^ave their opinion of a particular part death of Dr Gregory, who was cut off in the flower of life
of his course, and presented them with a ticket for that by a sudden and unforeseen event. After this time, Cullen
nurnose • and sometimes he refused to take payment, un- continued to give lectures on the practice of physic till a
der the pretext that they had not received his full course few months before his death, which happened on the 5th
the nrecedino- year part of it having been necessarily omit- of February 1 /90, in the seventy-seventh ) ear of his age.
ed K want^e which he meant to include in this In his prelections Dr Cullen never attemptej to read
course By such delicate address, in which he greatly ex- His lectures were delivered viva voce, without having been
celled he took care to forerun their wants; and thus he previously put into writing, or thrown into any particular
not only gave them the benefit of his own lectures, but arrangement. The vigour of his mind was such, that
bv refusing to take their money, he also enabled them to nothing more was necessary than a few short notes oefore
attend those of others which were necessary to complete him, merely to prevent him from varying from the general
their course of studies. Such were the devices he adopted order which he had been accustomed to observe. This gave
towards individuals to whom economy was necessary; but to his discourses an ease, a vivacity, a variety, and a force,
it was a general rule with him, never to take money from which are rarely to be met with in academical discourses,
any student for more than two courses of the same set of His lectures upon the same subject, therefore, were never
lectures, permitting him to attend these lectures gratis as exactly the same. 1 heir general tenor indeed was not much
varied ; but the particular illustrations were always new,
well suited to the circumstances which attracted the ge¬
neral attention of the day, and were delivered in the par¬
ticular way which accorded with the cast of mind the pre¬
lector found himself in at the time.. To these circum¬
stances must be ascribed that energetic, artless elocution,
which rendered his lectures so generally captivating to his
hearers. Even those who could not follow him in the ex¬
tensive views which his penetrating mind glanced at, or
who were not able to understand the apt allusions to col¬
lateral objects which he could only point at rapidly as he
went along, could not help being warmed in some measure
by the vivacity of his manner. But to those who followed
him in his rapid career, the ideas he suggested were so
numerous, the views he laid open were so extensive, and
the objects to be attained were so important, that every
active faculty of the mind was roused; and such an ar¬
dour of enthusiasm was excited in the prosecution of
study, as appeared to be perfectly inexplicable to those
who were merely unconcerned spectators. In consequence
inspired.
It would seem as if Dr Cullen had considered the pro¬
per business of a preceptor to be that of putting his pupils
into a proper train of study, so as to enable them to pro-
exceeded a hundred r _
thus fabricated in haste, having been published, the doc- wi.w ——  -r--  . - , ,
tor thought it necessary to give a more correct edition of of this unshackled freedom in the composi j01^ an .
them in the latter part of his life. But his faculties being livery of his lectures, every circumstance was m the mces
then much impaired, his friends looked in vain for those unison with the tone of voice and expression ol coun -
striking beauties which had characterised his literary exer- nance which the particular cast of his mind at me time
tions in the prime of life.
Some years afterwards, on the death of Dr White, the
magistrates once more appointed Dr Cullen to give lec¬
tures in his stead on the theory of physic; and it was on imu a.    ^
this occasion that Dr Cullen thought it expedient to resign secute those studies at a future period, and o carry
the chemical chair in favour of Dr Black, his former pupil, on much farther than the short time allowe or ac
whose talents in that department of science were then mical prelections would admit. He did not, er >
well known, and who filled the chair till his death with strive so much to make those who attended hls ec
great satisfaction to the public. Soon afterwards, on the deeply versed in the particular details of a su >
death of Dr Rutherford, who for many years had given to give them a general view of the whole; to s o
lectures with applause on the practice of physic, Dr John what had already been attained respecting it; o po
Gregory having become a candidate for this situation what remained yet to be discovered; and to put
along with Dr Cullen, a sort of compromise took place train of study which shouldenable them at a future p
between them, by which they agreed each to give lectures to remove those difficulties which had hitherto o ^
alternately on the theory and on the practice of physic our progress, and thus to advance to higher eg
during their joint lives, reserving to the survivor to hold perfection. And if these were his views, nothing c ^
either of the classes he should prefer. In consequence of more happily adapted to them than the m^.w . ^
this agreement, Dr Cullen delivered the first course of invariably pursued. He first drew, with the stnKin0
Cuin
rot
Plai
C U L
Cuii|i es of a master, a rapid and general outline of the subject,
by which the whole figure was seen at once to start boldly
from the canvass, distinct in all its parts, and unmixed with
any other object. He then began anew to retrace the
1; picture, to touch up the lesser parts, and to finish the
whole in as perfect a manner as the state of knowledge at
the time would permit. Where materials were wanting,
the picture remained imperfect. The wants were thus
rendered obvious; and the means of supplying them were
pointed out with the most careful discrimination. The
student, whenever he looked back to the subject, perceiv¬
ed the defects; and his hopes being awakened, he felt
an irresistible impulse to explore that hitherto untrodden
path which had been pointed out to him, and to fill up
the chasm which still yawned. Thus were the active fa¬
culties of the mind most powerfully excited ; and instead
of labouring himself to supply deficiencies which far ex¬
ceeded the power of any one man to accomplish, he set
thousands at work to fulfil the task, and put them in a
train of going on with the work. Dr Cullen died on the
5th February 1790, in the seventy-seventh year of his
age. His external appearance, though striking, was not
elegant, but nevertheless pleasing. His countenance was
expressive, and his eye remarkably lively and penetrating.
In his person he was tall and thin, but he stooped very
much. When he walked he had a contemplative look,
and seemed insensible to what was passing around him.*1
CULLERA, a city of Spain, in the province of Valencia,
not for from the mouth of the Xucar, containing 5000 in¬
habitants. Many trades and a great deal of fishing are
carried on here.
CULLODEN, a place in Inverness-shire, the scene of
the last battle fought between the house of Stuart and
that of Hanover, on the 16th April 1746, in which the
hopes of the former were for ever extinguished. The field
of battle is a vast tract of table land, covered with heath,
over which are scattered a few cottages. It is situated about
live miles east of the town of Inverness.
CULM, or Cuxmus, among botanists, a straw or haulm,
defined by Linnaeus to be the proper trunk of the grasses,
which elevates the leaves, flower, and fruit.
This sort of trunk is tubular or hollow, and has fre¬
quently knots or joints disti'ibuted at proper distances
throughout its whole length. The leaves are long, sleek,
and placed either near the roots in great numbers, or pro¬
ceed singly from the different joints of the stalk, which
they embrace at the base, like a sheath or glove.
The haulm is commonly garnished with leaves; some¬
times, however, it is naked, that is, devoid of leaves, as in
a few species of cypress-grass. Most grasses have a round
cylindrical stalk; in some species of schcenus, scirpus, cy¬
press-grass, and others, it is triangular.
The stalk is sometimes entire, that is, has no branches,
sometimes branching, as in schcenus aculeatus et capensis ;
and not seldom it consists of a number of scales, which lie
over each other like tiles.
Lastly, in a few grasses the stalk is not interrupted with
joints, as in the greater part. The space contained be¬
twixt every two knots or joints is termed by botanists in-
ternodium and articulus culmi.
I _ This species of trunk often affords certain marks of dis¬
tinction in discriminating the species. Thus, in the genus
onocaulon, the species are scarcely to be distinguished
but by the angles of the culms or stalks. These in some
species ale in number five, in others six, and in others
ten.
CULMIFEROUS Plants (from culmus, a straw or
mulm), plants, so called, which have a smooth jointed
stalk, usually hollow, and wrapped about at each joint with
single, narrow, sharp-pointed leaves, and the seeds con-
C U M
535
ained in chaffy husks. Such are oats, wheat, barley, rye, Culmina-
and the other plants of the natural family of the Grasses. tion
GUI I NATION, in Astronomy, the passage of any „ H
heavenly body over the meridian, or its greatest altitude £^ana-
tor a given day. ^
CULNA, a town of Bengal, on the northern bank of one
of the numerous streams which constitute the delta of
the Ganges. At this place boats generally stop to take in
a stock of fresh water and provisions, and to procure a
pilot to convey them through the intricate navigation of
the Sunderbunds. Long. 89.32. E. Lat. 22.50. N. There
is another town of this name in the province of Bengal,
and district of Jessore, seventy miles east-north-east from
Calcutta. Long. 89. 32. E. Lat. 22. 50. N.
. CULPEE, a town of Bengal, in the district of HooMily,
situated on the eastern bank of the river Hooghly. &The
town stands thirty-three miles below Calcutta, at the mouth
of a creek which gives shelter to boats from the impetu¬
osity of the tide, which runs there with great violence. Op¬
posite the town is the place of anchorage for large ships
which cannot get higher up the river. The shores here
are a bed of mud, and the banks of the river are covered
with thick jungle; and it is esteemed excessively unhealthy,
on account of the swamps and woods by which it is sur¬
rounded, insomuch that a European cannot with safety
sleep a night on shore. All commanders of vessels ought
to prevent their crews from going on shore, and to secure
them from the rain and the dew. Long. 88. 25. E. Lat.
CULROSS, a royal burgh of Scotland, in the county of
Fife, is situated on the northern shore of the Frith of Forth,
about twenty-two miles from Edinburgh. This place is of
considerable antiquity, and in ancient times possessed a
good deal of shipping, and enjoyed a respectable share of
maritime commerce, but this traffic has now almost en¬
tirely vanished. The antiquities in the vicinity of Culross
are worthy of notice. At the east end are the ruins of St
Mungo s chapel; near these, on a rising ground, are the
remains of a monastery built in 1217 by Malcolm earl of
Fife. The chancel and tower of this monastery form a
part of the present church ; and farther west are the ruins
of the old church, which, with the ground around it, is
still used as a burying place. In 1821 the population of
the town and parish was 1434, and in 1831, 1488.
CULVERIN, a name given to a piece of ordnance or
artillery when it was the fashion to apply to cannon fan¬
ciful appellations, as, falconet, culverin, and the like. A
whole culverin was an eighteen pounder, and a demi-cul-
verin a nine pounder.
CULVERTAILED, among shipwrights, signifies the
fastening or letting one timber into another, so as not to
slip out, as, for instance, the codings into the beams of a
ship.
CUM7E, in Ancient Geography, a city of Campania,
near Puteoli, supposed to have been founded by a colony
from Chalcis and Cumae of iEolia before the Trojan war.
The inhabitants were called Cumcei; and one of the Si¬
byls having fixed her residence in a cave in the neigh¬
bourhood, was called the Cumean Sibyl.
CUMANA, a province of Colombia, bounded on the
north and east by the Carribbean Sea, and on the south by
the Orinoco. In the western part, towards the coast, the
soil is tolerably fertile. The eastern part is dry and sandy,
affording nothing but an inexhaustible mine of marine and
mineral salt. On the Orinoco the country is fit only for
pasturage ; other parts are exceedingly fertile. In the in¬
terior is a range of mountains, of which Tumeriquisi, the
most elevated, is 5900 feet in height.
Cumana, or New Cordova, a town of Colombia, and ca¬
pital of the above province. It is situated near the mouth
536
CUM
Cumber- of the Cariaco, about a mile from the sea, on an and
land. gaudy plain. The climate is hot, earthquakes are frequent,
and the houses are low and lightly built. On the 14th
of December 1797, more than three fourths of them were
destroyed by an earthquake. The inhabitants carry on a
considerable trade in cacao, and other productions ot the
country. The road is commodious for its depth, and ot a
semicircular form, which defends it from the violence oi
the winds. The population amounts to about /u,uuu.
Long. 64. 10. W. Lat. 10. 28. N. . ,
CUMBERLAND, a county in England, ft Jts north¬
west extremity, situated between 54° 6 ant oo ? o°r
latitude, and 2° 13' and 3° 30' west longitude, is bounded
on the north by Scotland and the Solway 1 ®
east by Northumberland and Durham; on the south by
Westmoreland and Lancashire ; and on the west, for about
sixtv-seven miles, by the Irish Sea. It is, at a medium,
about fifty miles long and thirty broad, within a bounding
line of 224 miles, and contains 1516 square miles, o
970,240 acres, of which the mountainous district com¬
prises more than a third, the old inclosures about a half,
and the lakes and waters 8000 acres ; the remainder being
either commons capable of improvement, or ands recent¬
ly inclosed. The principal divisions are called wards, a
term synonymous with hundreds in other counties . o
these there are five, namely, Cumberland, Eskdale, Leath,
AUerdale above Derwent, and Allerdale below Derwent.
The ward of Allerdale above Derwent is in the diocese
of Chester, and all the others are in that of Carlisle. I He
county contains one city, Carlisle, seventeen market-towns,
and 112 parishes. Carlisle and Cockermouth are its only
boroughs. Cumberland presents every variety of surface.
The south-western district is generally mountainous, rug¬
ged, and sterile, yet contains several rich though narrow
valleys, with many fine lakes, islands, rivers, cascades, and
woodlands, which, combined or contrasted m the view
with the gigantic rocky masses around them, exhibit many
remarkable scenes of grandeur, desolation, and beauty.
Skiddaw, Saddleback, Helvellin, rising to the height of
more than 3000 feet, belong to this quarter. The highest
part of that immense ridge, termed the British Appennines,
which, commencing in Derbyshire, extends in a continued
chain into the Lothians, forms the eastern boundary; in
which Crossfell, about 3400 feet high, surrounded with
other lofty and barren eminences, retains the snow upon
its summit nearly three fourths of the year. The northern
part of the county, or what has been called the Yale of
Carlisle, is in general flat; and a tract of low land, from
two to four or five miles in breadth, winds along the west¬
ern shore. The climate necessarily corresponds with tins
variety of suVface: here, as in the other western coun¬
ties, rains are frequent and copious, particularly in sum¬
mer, and often also in autumn. Black peat earth is the
most prevalent soil in the mountainous districts, and is
found, too, in the moors and commons of the low grounds.
About half the cultivated land consists of dry loams, ex¬
cellently adapted for the growth of turnips, herbage, and
all sorts of grain. Fertile clays occupy but a small portion,
but clay, wet and sterile, forms the subsoil m many parts.
The principal rivers are the Eden, the Derwent, the Cal-
dew, and the Esk. The Eden has its source in Westmore¬
land near the borders of Yorkshire, and, pursuing a north¬
westerly course in its progress through Cumberland, passes
Kirkoswald and Carlisle, and falls into the Solway Frith
near Rockcliffe Marsh, where it forms a fine estuary. Ihe
vale land on its banks is for the most part very narrow ; and
in some places the high grounds approach to the waters
edge There are several salmon-fisheries on this river be¬
longing to different proprietors. The Derwent rises among
the frightful crags at the head of Borrowdale, in the south-
C U M
west ran^e of mountains, whence it is dashed from roek Cumb,
to rock, till it reaches Derwent Lake, fiom which it flows tanc;
onward through Bassenthwaite water, and after being '•’yf
ioined by the Cocker near Cockermouth, falls into the sea
a little from Workington. The scenery along the whole
of its course is singularly varied and interesting. IheCal-
dew issues from the south-east side of bkiddaw, and joins
the Eden near Carlisle, after a course of twenty-four miles,
in which it gives motion to a number of cotton and corn
mills. The vale through which it flows is very beautiful,
and its banks are well wooded. Ihe Esk enters Cumber¬
land from Scotland at a place called the Moat, and, flow-
in0- in a westerly direction by Longtown, falls into the
Solway Frith; the Liddel, another Scottish river, which,
in part of its course, separates Cumberland from Scot-
land, joins the Esk after it has passed into England.
Landed property is much divided m this county, and
the small estates are commonly occupied by their owners.
Most of them are held under the lords of manors, by
what is called customary tenure, which subjects them to
the payment of fines and heriots on alienation, and on the
death of the lord or tenant, besides certain annual rents,
and the performance of a variety of degrading and vexa¬
tious services. According to the authors of the AgncuU
tural Survey, printed in 1794, about two thirds of the
county were held by this tenure, in parcels worth from
L.15 to L.30 of yearly rent. On large estates, also, the
farms were in general rather small, few then reaching
L 200 a year, possessed on verbal contracts or very short
leases, and burdened, like the small estates, with payments
or services, over and above a money rent; but leases for
fourteen or twenty-one years are now not uncommon.
The live stock consists of horses of rather a small size;
cattle of the long-horned breed, with a few Galloways, to
which, of late, the improved short horns have been added
by a few great proprietors; and sheep chiefly of the black¬
faced heath variety. In a mountainous district, at the
head of the Duddon and Esk rivers, there is a breed of
sheen of a somewhat peculiar character, the ewes and
wethers, and many of the rams, being polled, their faces
and legs speckled, and the wool finer than that of the
heath breed. They belong to the proprietor of the lands,
and have been farmed out with them from time immemo¬
rial to herds at a yearly rent; and from this circumstance,
it is said, have obtained the name of Herdwichs. 1 here are
a number of small dairies, at which butter and skinomed-
milk cheese are made ; the produce of cach cow m bu er
is about two firkins of fifty-six pounds; and the qu^t. y
sent out of the county was computed, m 1/94, to bnn n
upwards of L.30,000. All the common species of gram
are cultivated, though in many instances with Uttleatte^
tion to system, corn crops being often taken for seve a
years in succession. Turnips and clovers do not yet enter
into the rotation in many parts of the coun F* ,
are extensively cultivated. That excellent vane y of oats
called the potato oat is said to have been first d^covere
in Cumberland in 1788, and whence it has now spread
over every part of the united kingdom. Among the fa
implements the single-horse cart deserves to be noticed,
as beine almost exclusively employed, and uitl g
vantage, as it is not only by far the most convement and
economical carriage for the farmer, but is ranch e
rious to the public roads than the waggons and hea ^
loaded carts in other counties. rh® aSncu t pWork.
county has been greatly indebted to Mr Curwen o
bg,o„y, both for & example he has given on us o« tans,
and for the spirit of inquiry and experiment 1 of
been diffused by means of the W(;rkin^" ^ at Wwk-
which he was the founder. His yearly meeting t ^
ington Hall were resorted to by agriculturists tv
umb
lam
CUMBERLAND.
parts of the kingdom. The conduct of his large dairy near
Workington, and the object of it, were alike deserving of
i''1 commendation.
The principal manufactures of Cumberland are calicoes,
corduroys, and other cotton fabrics, established at Dalston,
Carlisle, Warwick Bridge, and a few other places. Cot¬
ton printing is carried on to some extent in Carlisle; the
manufacture of sail-cloth and cordage at Workington and
Whitehaven; and checks and coarse linens in several of
the market towns. In this, as in other thinly peopled
and mountainous districts, domestic manufactures, such
as woollen cloth, stockings, &c. supply a great part of the
wants of the peasantry. The Seaton iron-works, on the
banks of the Derwent, above Workington, a manufactory
of coarse earthen-ware near Dearham, and paper mills in
various parts of the county, with breweries, and a soap-
work at Carlisle, comprise all the other manufacturing
establishments of any note in this county.
Cumberland abounds in minerals and fossils, from which
a great part of its wealth is drawn. The most valuable
are coal, black lead, lead, copper, iron, slate, and limestone.
Coal is found at different places in the eastern moun¬
tains, and also near Brampton in the northern part of the
county, but in greatest abundance on the west side of
the river Caldew, and. thence to Maryport, Workington,
and Whitehaven. A number of mines are constantly at
work in this district, particularly near Whitehaven and
Workington. The principal entrance to the coal-mines
at Whitehaven is by an opening at the bottom of a hill,
through a long passage hewn in the rock, which, by a
steep descent, leads down to the lowest vein of coal. The
greater part of this descent is through spacious galleries,
intersecting each other; all the coal being dug away, ex¬
cept large pillars, which in deep parts of the mine are
three yards high, and twelve yards square at the base.
The mines are sunk to the depth of a hundred and thirty
fathoms, one of them, the King Pit, a hundred and sixty
fathoms, and extended under the sea to places where,
above them, the water is of sufficient depth for ships of
great burthen. Four engines, when all working together,
discharge 1228 gallons of water every minute ; another
raises 9225 hogsheads every twenty-four hours. The
seams all dip to the west about one yard in ten. Mr
Spedding, the engineer of these works, observing that the
fire-damp was not liable to be ignited by the sparks pro¬
duced by the collision of flint and steel, many years ago
invented a machine, in which, while a steel wheel was
turned round with a very rapid motion, flints were applied
to it, and, by the abundance of sparks emitted, the miners
were enabled to carry on their work, where the flame of
a lamp or candle would have occasioned explosions. But
this contrivance was found not to be an effectual preser-
i vative, and this gentleman himself lost his life by one of
those explosions which he had so sedulously attempted to
prevent. The well-known safety-lamps, now in general
! use, have been more successful. About 90,000 chaldrons
are said to be raised annually. There are railways from
the pits to the quay, over which large flues or hurries are
placed, through which the contents of the waggons are
speedily discharged into the holds of the ships. The coals
are exported to Ireland and the west of Scotland. The
coal-pits at Workington are from forty to ninety fathoms
deep. The uppermost seam is generally three feet thick,
the second four, and the third or lowest that has been
hitherto worked from ten to twelve feet.
The famous black-lead mines are situated at tbe head
of Borrowdale, in the south-west range of mountains. The
niineral is found in irregular masses, generally imbedded
in a blue rock, with a stratum of granite above it; and it
is only wrought occasionally, as the demand for it may re*
VOL. VII.
537
quire. At other times the mines are protected from pil- Cumber-
ferers by a temporary wall within, and the house of the land,
steward is built over the entrance.
The piincipal lead-mines are in Aldstone Moor, on the
south-east borders of the county. The ore is found in
fissures nearly perpendicular, and not unfrequently con¬
tains a considerable proportion of silver. The most con¬
siderable copper mines are near Caldbeck, at Hesket New
Market, in Borrowdale, and at Newlands in the vicinity of
Keswick ; but they are not now wrought to a great extent.
The ore is commonly combined with sulphur, and usually
contains both iron and arsenic. In the parish of Egre-
mont, at a place called Crowgarth, is the most singular
mine of iron ore supposed to be in Britain. It lies at the
depth of twelve fathoms, and the thickness of the band of
ore is from twenty-four to twenty-five feet. In 1791 and
1792, the annual exportation from it to the Carron foun-
dery in Scotland, and others, was upwards of 20,000 tons.
Very good slate is found in the south-western mountains,
and limestone in various parts of the county. Of the lat¬
ter, when calcined, the exportation to the west of Scot¬
land used to be very considerable. Among the mineral or
fossil productions may be mentioned marble, spar of va¬
rious colours and forms, gypsum, steatites, and porcelain
clay or kaolin.
Cumberland contains a number of towns, few of them
large or populous. Carlisle, Penrith, Wigton, Maryport,
Cockermouth, Workington, Whitehaven, Egremont, and
Keswick, are the most considerable. The exports, chief¬
ly from W hitehaven, Maryport, Workington, and Harring¬
ton, are coals, lime, butter, bacon, cured cod for the
Liverpool market, and salmon and potted char for Lon¬
don. Since the East India trade was thrown open, White¬
haven has been among the first ports to embark in it; and
it has long possessed a share of the trade with America.
The lakes and mountains of Cumberland have long at¬
tracted the admirers of the wild and beautiful in natural
scenery. The lakes, including smaller pieces of water,
called tarns, are fifteen in number; the finest are Ulls-
water, and Derwentwater or Keswick Lake. Ullswater
is partly situated in Cumberland and partly in Westmore¬
land ; it is about nine miles in length, and from a quarter
of a mile to one mile in breadth. Winding round the
base of vast rocky mountains, it is seen only in successive
portions; the scenery on its margin presenting new and
striking objects at every stretch. The rocks in its vici¬
nity are celebrated for reverberating sounds. The report
of a cannon rebounds six or seven times, with pauses be¬
tween, in which tbe sound of the distant waterfall is for a
moment heard. This lake contains fish of various kinds,
particularly trout, perch, and eels, and also char and
gwinniard, the last in considerable numbers. Derwent¬
water or Keswick Lake is of an irregular figure, approach¬
ing to an oval, about three miles in length and one and a
half in breadth. It is seen at one view, expanding within
an amphitheatre of mountains, rocky but not vast; broken
into many fantastic shapes; opening by narrow valleys
the view of rocks which rise immediately beyond, and are
again overlooked by others. Masses of wood frequently
appear among tbe cliffs, feathering them to their summits;
and a white cottage sometimes peeps from out their skirts,
seated on the smooth knoll of a piece of pasture projecting
towards the lake. Its bosom is spotted by small islands, of
which those called Lord’s and St Herbert’s are well wood¬
ed. The celebrated Fall of Lowdore, on the southern side
of the lake, consists of a series of cascades, which rush
over an enormous pile of protruding crags, from the height
of nearly 200 feet. What is called the floating island of
Keswick is said to appear occasionally on the side of the
lake opposite to this fall, but only when the water in the
3 Y
538
CUMBERLAND.
Cumber. lake is high, and then scarcely a foot above the surface,
land. No satisfactory explanation has been given of this phe-
nomenon. The size of the island seems, according to differ¬
ent accounts, to vary; and its existence has not been un-
frequently denied altogether. The waters of this lakcaie
sometimes agitated in an extraordinary manner, without
any apparent' cause ; and in a perfectly calm day they are
seen to swell in high waves, which have a progressive mo¬
tion from west to east. This is ascribed to what is callec
bottom wind. The swell sometimes continues for an hour
or two only, at others almost a whole day. ^Island bpa,
in the middle of a wild romantic valley, called the Vale oj
Irthing, about eight miles south-east of Bewcastle, ha
long been a place of considerable resort; and, mdepe -
dently of the medicinal qualities of its springs, presents
attractions to visitors, particularly the painter and geo¬
logist, in the variety of its landscape and the disposition
of the strata, exposed in the banks of the river in its vici-
1M From the tops of the mountains in Cumberland, the
views are alike extensive and varied. The summit of
Skiddaw brings under the eye the Irish Sea and the Ge
man Ocean ; a chaos of dark mountains at a distance,
with lakes seen dimly at the feet of the nearest and a
vast expanse of champaign country, bounded by the Ins
Channel, and traversed by silvery thread-like streams in
every direction. Upon the summits of the Cross-fell ridge
there frequently hangs a vast volume of clouds, reach¬
ing half way down towards the base of the fells. At some
distance from this helm, as it is called, and opposite to it,
another cloud, called the helm-bar, is seen m continual agi¬
tation, whilst the helm itself remains motionless. When
the bar is dispersed, the wind rushes from the helm, often
with great fury, and sometimes on both sides of the moun¬
tains.
The early history of this county is involved in obscuri- Cum*
ty. In the tenth century it appears to have been in the lan
possession of the Scots, but whether by a grant from the
crown of England or by conquest, has been matter of dis¬
pute. It was long made the scene of plunder and blood¬
shed, by the savage incursions of both kingdoms alter¬
nately- At a conference held at York, Henry III., in
full satisfaction of the claims of the Scots, agreed to as¬
sign lands to them of the yearly value of L.200, within
the counties of Northumberland and Cumberland, if lands
of that value could be found therein, without the limits of
the towns where castles were erected. But after this ar¬
rangement there still remained a tract between the two
kingdoms, called the debatecible ground, the resort of the
worst characters of both, who continued to disturb the
borders down to the union of the two crowns. Of the
Druidical antiquities of Cumberland the most remarkable
is a circle of stones, about three miles from Kirkoswald,
called Long Meg and her Daughters. The Roman wall
may still be traced from the neighbourhood of Carlisle,
both to the east and west, for some miles; where it en¬
ters Northumberland on the east, it is in some places five,
and in others eight feet in height. A great many coins, al¬
tars, and other vestiges of antiquity, have been discovered
at the Roman stations on its line. In the mountainous
parts, which have little intercourse with towns, the man¬
ners'of the people are somewhat peculiar; and in the
solitary dales, surrounded by the least accessible moun¬
tains, they have perhaps undergone little alteration for
centuries.
Cumberland sends nine members to Parliament; tour
for the county, two for Carlisle, two for Cockermouth, and
one for Whitehaven. The following abstract is taken from
the returns of 1811 and 1821, and exhibits the general re¬
sults of that of 1831.
YEARS.
1811
1821
1831
HOUSES.
By how
many Fa¬
milies oc¬
cupied.
24,002
27,246
28,390
31,804
550
908
OCCUPATIONS.
Families
chiefly em¬
ployed in
Agricul¬
ture.
Families
chiefly em¬
ployed in
Trade, Ma¬
nufactures,
or Handi¬
craft.
10,868
11,297
11,448
13,146
All other
Families
not com¬
prised in
the two
preceding
classes.
6074
7361
PERSONS.
Males.
63,433
75,600
Females.
70,311
80,524
Total of
Persons.
133,744
156.124
171,700
See Bailey and Gulley’s General Vieiv of the Agricul¬
ture of Cumberland ; Hutchinson’s History of Cumberland;
Houseman’s Topographical Description of Cumberland;
Gilpin’s Observations on the Lakes.
Cumberland, a post-town, and capital of Alleghany
county, Maryland, on the Potowmac, at the junction ot
Will’s Creek, seventy miles west of Hagerstown, 130 east-
south-east of Wheeling, and 150 west by north of Balti¬
more. It is a considerable town, and contains a court¬
house, a jail, a market-house, a bank, and several houses
of public worship. The mountains in the vicinity abound
in stone and coal, great quantities of which are transported
down the Potowmac in flat and keel boats. The Cumbei-
land or great western road extends from this town to the
banks of the Ohio at Wheeling. It was made by the govern¬
ment of the United States, and a survey has since been exe¬
cuted from thence to the Mississippi, 600 miles farther.
Cumberland, a river which rises in the Cumberland
Mountains, Virginia, and runs through Kentucky and ien-
nessee into the Ohio, sixty miles from the Mississippi, ft
is navigable for steam-boats to Nashville, near 200 miles,
and for boats of fifteen tons 300 miles farther. At certain
seasons vessels of 400 tons may descend 400 miles to the
°^Cumberland, Richard, bishop of Peterborough, was
the son of a respectable citizen of London, and was bom
in the parish of St Ann, near Aldersgate, m the year
1632. Having laid a proper foundation of classical lea
ing at St Paul’s school, he was removed to MagdalenU-
le«e, Cambridge, where in due time he took his degre
Sts, and obtcdned a fellowship. He took the degree of
A. B. in 1653; and having proceeded A.M. in >
was next year incorporated to the same flegre.e, - lf
university of Oxford.1 For some time he applied himsen
1 Biographia Britannica, vol. iv. p. 558.
CUMBERLAND.
to the study of physic; and although he did not adhere to
Ian this profession, he retained his knowledge of anatomy and
^medicine. Mr Payne informs us that “ he distinguished
himself, whilst he was a fellow of the college, by the per¬
formance of his academical exercises. He went out bat-
chelor of divinity at a publick commencement; and tho’ it
was hardly known that the same person performed those
great exercises twice, yet such wras the expectation he had
■ raised, that he was afterwards sollicited to keep the act at
another publick commencement for his doctor’s degree.”
He took the degree of B. D. in 1663, and that of D. D. in
1680.1 Two of his contemporaries and intimate friends
were Dr Hezekiah Burton, a worthy clergyman, “ who
was early lost to his family, his acquaintance, and the
world,” and Dr Hollings, who settled as a physician at
Shrewsbury, and was there held in universal esteem.
There were other members of the same college with whom
he likewise cultivated a particular acquaintance; and
among these were Sir Samuel Moreland, who was distin¬
guished by his knowledge of mathematics, Sir Orlando
Bridgeman, who became keeper of the great seal, and Mr
Pepys, who for many years was secretary to the admiralty,
and who is well known by his posthumous Memoirs.
To this academical connexion he appears to have been
in a great measure indebted for his subsequent advance¬
ment in the church. When Bridgeman was appointed
lord keeper, he nominated Cumberland and Burton as his
chaplains, nor did he afterwards neglect the interest of
either. Cumberland’s first preferment was the rectory of
Brampton in Northamptonshire, which was bestowed upon
him in 1658 by Sir John Norwich. He then quitted the
university, and went to reside on his benefice, where he
zealously devoted himself to the duties of his sacred office,
and to the prosecution of those abstruse studies to which
he had long been addicted. His chief relaxation con¬
sisted in occasional excursions to Cambridge, for the pur¬
pose of maintaining those lettered friendships which he
had formed in early life, and probably for the purpose of
consulting such books as his owrn library could not supply.
In 1661 he was appointed one of the twelve preachers of
the university. His character was very remote from that
of a preferment-hunter; and in this unambitious retire¬
ment he might have spent the remainder of his life, if the
lord keeper, who obtained his office in 1667, had not in¬
vited him to London, and soon afterw'ards bestowed upon
him the rectory of Allhallows at Stamford. In this new
situation, he acquired new credit by the fidelity with which
he discharged his important functions. In addition to
his ordinary duties, he undertook the weekly lecture, and
thus was obliged to preach thrice every week in the same
church. This labour he constantly and assiduously per¬
formed, and in the mean time found sufficient leisure, as
| well as inclination, to prosecute his scientific and philolo¬
gical studies.
539
At the mature age of forty, he published his earliest Cumber-
work, entitled u De Legibus Naturae Disquisitio philoso- land.
phica, in qua earum Forma, summa Capita, Ordo, Promul- V^V  
gatio, et Obligatio e Iterum Natura investigantur; quin
etiam Elementa 1 hilosophiae Hobbianae, cum moralis turn
civilis, considerantur et refutantur.” Lond. 1672, 4to.
it is dedicated to Su Orlando Bridgeman, and is prefaced
by an “ Alloquium ad Lectorem,” contributed by the au-
tnoi s fiiend 13i Burton. Cumberland’s treatise is evi¬
dently the production of an acute and philosophical mind,
and entitles him to a very respectable place amono- wri¬
ters on the principles of natural law; but his speculations
are not entirely free from that indistinctness which is too
prevalent among those who have undertaken similar en¬
quiries. His arguments are chiefly directed against the
Epicurean laxity of Hobbes, whose writings on the ele¬
ments of morality and politics, though of a very debasing
tendency, made a strong impression on his contempora¬
ries. His system was now opposed by another, which com¬
prehends a more pleasing view of man in his moral and
social relations. “ The most universal love, or most diffu¬
sive benevolence, of all rational beings towards each other,
constitutes the happiest state they can be capable of; so
that their endeavour of the common good, by this benevo¬
lence, is the sum of all the laws of nature, and in which
they are all contained.”2
Cumberland’s treatise De Legibus Naturae appeared
during the same year with that of Pufendorf De Jure
Naturae et Gentium, which was printed at Lund, where the
author was then a professor. This work of the English
divine was highly commended in a subsequent publication
of the German lawyer;3 and his weighty suffrage must
have had the effect of making it known on the continent.
The book was reprinted at Liibeck in 1683, and again in
1694. It was likewise reprinted at Dublin. The style of
the learned author has no particular recommendations;
and as his work was printed in London while he was resid¬
ing at Stamford, the first edition contains many typogra¬
phical errors; nor are they removed in the subsequent edi¬
tions. Dr Bentley afterwards undertook to revise the
entire text, and, according to his grandson’s account, he
most effectually performed this task; but Barbeyrac, who
had the use of the corrected copy, and who was a more
competent judge of its value, entertained a less favourable
opinion. This copy is now in the library of Trinity Col¬
lege, Cambridge. The author’s family intended to publish
a splendid edition of the work, but their laudable design
was never executed.
Mr Tyrrell, who was the grandson of Archbishop Usher,
and is himself well known as a writer on history and poli¬
tics, digested Cumberland’s doctrines into a new form,
and published a considerable volume under the following
title : “ A brief Disquisition of the Law of Nature, accord¬
ing to the Principles and Method laid down in the Reve-
1 Cantabrigienses Graduati, p. 113. Cantab. 1800,4to. 2 Tyrrell’s Disquisition of the Law of Nature, p. 7-
3 “ Quantum tamen mihi constat,” says Pufendorf in allusion to Hobbes, “ ipsius hypothesin inter Anglos solidissime destruxit
Bichardus Cumberlandus, libro erudito et ingenioso de Legibus Naturae; simulque adversam hypothesin, quae ad Stoicorum placita
proxime accedit, firmissime adstruxit.” (Specimen Controversiarum circa Jus Naturale ipsi nuper motarum, cap. i. § 0.) This tract
is reprinted in the author’s Eris Scandica. Francof. 1686, 4to. And it may likewise be found in Mascou’s edition of his work DeJure
Eaturas ct Gentium. Francof. et Lips. 1700, 2 tom. 4to.
Sir James Mackintosh, in his Dissertation on the Progress of Ethical Philosophy, p. 323, has inadvertently stated that Cumberland
was the only professed answerer of Hobbes. Some of this philosopher’s notions on the principles of natural law were discussed by
George Lawson, rector of More in the county of Salop, who published “ An Examination of the Political Part of Mr Hobbs his
Leviathan.” Lond. 1657, 8vo. His speculations were formally opposed by Roger Coke, in a volume which bears the following
ojciie pro Lege, Imperio, et Religione, contra Tractatus Thomse Hobbesii, quibus tit. de Give et Leviathan.” Ultrajecti, 1668, 12mo.
The same divine is likewise the author of a book entitled “ Vindiciae pro Religione in Regno Dei Naturali, contra Hobbes de Give,
cap. Id. Leviathan, cap. 31.” Ultraj. 1668, 12mo.
540
CUMBERLAND.
Cumber¬
land.
vend Dr Cumberland’s (now Lord Bishop of Peterbo- no church revenue could enrich him ; for I have heard my Cumber
rend m uumoericuiu s father sav. that, at the end of every year, whatever over- land
rough’s) Latin treatise on t ia su jec 5 as a  . ,. llp fminci unon a minute inspection of his accounts'-^/
-,cn
tations of Mr Hobbs’s Principles put into another^method :
with the Right Reverend Author’s approbation.” Lond.
1692, 8vo. Another edition appeared in 1701. A com¬
plete English version of the original work was published
by John Maxwell, A. M. prebendary of Connor, under
the title of “ A Treatise of the Laws of Nature, &c.
Lond. 1727, 4to. And at a more recent period, a french
translation was executed by the learned Barbeyrac, w 10
plus he found upon a minute inspection of his accounts
was by him distributed to the poor, reserving only one
small deposit of twenty-five pounds in cash, found at his
death in his bureau, with directions to employ it for the dis¬
charge of his funeral expences; a sum, in his modest cal¬
culation, fully sufficient to commit his body to the earth.”*
To the duties of his new station 1m applied himself with
great assiduity. He was a person of studious and retiring
L
^sei
irausmL.ui. v, «*  - , transfrisino. into habits, nor did the natural calmness of his temper pecu-
hkewise enriched his natwe languag y ^raj(.. liar]y bim for the task of governing others; but if he
it the great works of Grotius and trKh]it du Latin, erred in practising too much lenity towards those who were
philosophique des Loix Naturelles, • c professeur placed under his jurisdiction, he shewed no disposition to
par Monsieur Barbeyrac, Docteur en D-oit^et Professeur place ^ ^ ^ ^ the discharge of his various func-
en la meme Faculte dans 1 Umversite k t duc- tions. His charges to the clergy are described as plain
des notes du traducteur, qui a join - ^ unambitious, the earnest breathings of a pious mind,
tion Angloise. Amsterdam,! , • ^ r h ]-jis old age was fresh and vigorous, nor did he discontinue
Having thus cstabbshed a ^ ™bie«; w“epi«$d visitations till after he attained his eightieth
land next prepared a woik o y T • h jyj ’ vear. When Dr Wilkins published the New Testament
« An Essay towards the Recovery °1 the Jewish Mea jeau vv ^ ^ ^ tQ the bishop5 who be
sures and Weights, comprehenc ing itir f ^ ^ ^ [h language after he had completed the age of
of ancient standards, compared ^f 8 eiltvihree. “ At this age,” says his chaplain, “ he
ma^atd the'EastemTtionsT Lond. 1686, 8v‘o. This master'd the language, and went thro'^great pan of this
wrled withoutaity'roentiotTof his ™ -
justify his calculations , but i s a h{ b u tbe wi10ie course of his life, his soul is represented as
like wrangling made him lay tnem y, e t having been in a constant state of calmness and serenity,
to shift for it sell. , 0 m„nv hardlv ever ruffled by any passion. The theory which he
About this period, he was gready depressed like many J^y^ ^ in J //ork, is founded on benevolence,
other good men, by apprehensions iespec mg _ ^ g naturally flowed from the habitual temperament of
—aa* 7—-aaasa
on a post-day, to read the newspaper at a coffee'h?i"se, hk domest;c chapllin Mr Payne, who soon after thebishop’s
Stamford, and there,t"11* ^bishopric of death edited “ Sanchoniatho’s Phoenician History, translat-
king had nominated Di Cumberland to Uie us [ ,,,1 f.-nm the first book of Eusebius De Prcrparatione Evan-
Peterborough. This mode of bestowing high preferment Sanchoniatho’s History by
upon eminent and unobtrusive merit, must appear ot ^ * Cyrenaeus’s Canon, which Dicsearchus con-
g thdr b^hop, they would have made' o„ other choice. The preface “/Xh wLtke-^ tbliS
“ Being then sixty years old,” says his great-grandson, and wnt,^
“he was with difficulty persuaded to accept the offer, in a separate ’h k itgelf isPjearned anj elaborate,
when it came to him from authority. The persuasion of happy old • ..m not be entirely
his friends, particularly Sir Orlando Bridgeman, at length and the researches of ^ (he ^ £
overcame his repugnance; and to that see, though very iui e , , , . , r- granted the genuineness of
moderately endowed, he for ever after devoted himself, sign, inasmuch as it takes for gffted d asspu.
Td resisted every offer of translation, though repeatedly a book Jci-
made and earnestly recommended, lo such of bis friends nous. It was t ^ tbprs bv Dodwell
as pressed an exchange upon him be was accustomed to bef"fnS£°^ in averring that
bets oX’otfrdt rctcc^inlTo^ ptSplt "Lgl now be more difficult to find many individuals of
Oxonise, 1088, 8vo.
1 Bibliotheque Universelle, tom. v. p. 149. .. . u
2 Edvardi Bernard! de Mensuris et Pondenbus Antiquis libn tres, editio altera.
3 Memoirs of Richard Cumberland, written by himself, p. 3. Lond. i806’ fto. LXX. Interpretibus. Amst. 1/05,
t A. van Dale Dissertatio super Sanchomathone, subjoined to his Dissertatio super hesitation in admitting the genuine-
4to—The learned Huet, who is sufficiently sceptical when it suits his particular i ^Sce isse annis, et ad Mosis svum
ness of the work ascribed to Sanchoniatho : “ Sanchomathonem autem Irojanum bellum muftis pnece
CUMBERLAND.
541
imb<
land.
"V' ’
critical learning inclined to adopt the bishop’s opinion.
The Phoenician History, of which some portion is pre¬
served by Eusebius, was published in Greek by Philo
Byblius as a version from the Phoenician tongue, and was
produced by Porphyry as a composition of great antiqui¬
ty. “ I cannot but think,” says Dodwell, that “ this au¬
thor counterfeited purposely with a design of confronting
the antiquity of the Scripture. But who was the impos¬
tor, whether Philo Byblius or Porphyry, that I confess I
cannot easily determine.”1 The book in which this pas¬
sage occurs was published many years before the death
of Cumberland, and was written by a person of much re¬
putation for his learning. It is therefore obvious that a
critical enquiry respecting the genuineness of the history
ought to have preceded an attempt to draw any argu¬
ments from its details. A German translation appeared
under the title of “ Cumberlands Phdnizische Historie
des Sanchoniathons, iibersetzt von Joh. Phil. Cassel.”
Magdeburg, 1755, 8vo.2 The sequel to this work of the
venerable bishop was likewise published by Mr Payne:
« Origines Gentium antiquissimce; or, Attempts for dis¬
covering the Times of the first Planting of Nations: in
several Tracts.” Lond. 1724, 8vo.
The author left an only son, who bore the same name,
and belonged to the same profession: he was rector of
Peakirk, in the diocese of Peterborough, and archdeacon
of Northampton. One of the bishop’s daughters married
his faithful chaplain, S. Payne, A. M. rector of Barnack,
and afterwards an archdeacon. The bishop’s son, who in¬
herited an estate which descended from his grandfather,
had two sons and a daughter. The latter was mar¬
ried to Waring Ashby, Esq. of Quenby Hall in the county
of Leicester. Richard, the elder son, died unmarried at
the age of twenty-nine. The younger, named Denison
from his mother, married Joanna the daughter of Dr Bent¬
ley, and became successively bishop of Clonfert and Kil-
more. He was the father of the late Richard Cumber¬
land. (x.)
Cumberland, Richard, a dramatic and miscellane¬
ous writer, was born at Cambridge on the 29th Febru¬
ary 1722. He was the great-grandson of the Bishop of
Peterborough, and he first saw the light under the roof
of his maternal grandfather, Dr Bentley, in the master’s
lodge, Trinity College. When he had completed his sixth
year, he was sent to the school at Bury St Edmunds, but
for some time he made little progress in his learning, and
it cost the master some trouble to awaken in him a proper
spirit of emulation. This, however, was at length accom¬
plished by publicly reproving him for his negligence; and,
being thus roused to exertion, he soon found his tasks a
pleasure rather than a burden. Whilst he remained at this
school his grandfather Bentley died, and he was thereby
deprived of the advantage which he might otherwise have
reaped from the guidance and direction of the ablest scho¬
lar of the age. In his school exercises young Cumberland
describes himself as aiming at something like fancy and
invention ; but this tendency seems to have betrayed him
into grammatical inaccuracies which did him little credit
with his master, and indeed exposed him to comments
which he felt most acutely. He was not, however, very
greatly discouraged by these strictures ; for having made
an excursion with his family, during the summer holidays,
to visit a relation in Hampshire, he wrote a poem on the
subject, in which he introduced a description of the docks Cumber-
at Portsmouth, and of the races at Winchester. This be- land,
ing his first regular attempt in English verse, he exhibited
it to his father, who received it with unreserved commen¬
dation, and persisted, with pardonable partiality, in recit¬
ing it to his friends long after the author had gained ex¬
perience enough to wish it consigned to oblivion. From
the school of Bury St Edmunds young Cumberland was
transferred to Westminster, where he remained about a
year and a half, and profited much, particularly in point of
composition. He was then sent to Cambridge, where he
was admitted of Trinity College when he was only in his
fourteenth year. At first he had two tutors, who paid little
attention to his studies ; but this inconvenience being soon
felt, the head master, Dr Smith, in the last year of his
under-graduate condition, recommended him to lose no
time in preparing for his degree, and to apply closely to
his studies during the remainder of the year. He did so,
and worked with such indefatigable perseverance, that,
though his health suffered severely in consequence, a high
station was adjudged him among the wranglers of his year,
and he obtained his bachelor’s degree. This was in the
year 1750. With the return of health he resumed his
studies, and, without neglecting those in which he had
recently been engaged, recurred to the authors who had
lain untouched during his course of academical prepara¬
tion.
Cumberland had early accustomed himself to read upon
system, and now began to form collections on the various
subjects of his pursuits. With this view he got together
the different tracts relative to the celebrated controversy
between Boyle and Bentley respecting the epistles of Pha- \
laris, omitting none of the authorities and passages refer- /
red to, and compressed the reasonings on both sides into a |
sort of digest or report upon the question in dispute. But
he was perhaps more agreeably employed in reading the >
Greek tragedians ; and when Mason published his Elfrida,
he planned and wrote, in imitation of that drama, a pro¬
duction of which Caractacus was the hero, with a chorus
consisting of bards and druids. About this time, his
health being still indifferent, he accompanied his family
in an excursion to York, where he passed half a year in
the society and amusements of the place ; hunting in the
mornings, dancing in the evenings, and devoting but little
time to study. Having got hold of the Faery Queen, how¬
ever, he began at intervals to write stanzas in the Spen¬
serian measure; and he also composed short elegies in
the same manner; but his mother having disapproved of
these occupations, he relinquished them, and prepared to
devote himself to more serious pursuits.
On his return to college young Cumberland was invited
to the master’s lodge by Dr Smith, who informed him of
a new arrangement which had been determined on for an¬
nulling as much of the existing statutes as restricted all
bachelors except those of the third j^ear’s standing, from
becoming candidates for fellowships; and recommended
him to present himself for examination, as, at the next elec¬
tion, he would be in the second year of his degree. Grate¬
ful for this friendly advice, he was preparing to resume his
studies with increased alacrity, when he received an invi¬
tation from Lord Halifax to become private and confiden¬
tial secretary to that nobleman. He accordingly proceed¬
ed to town, where he remained some time, and afterwards
accessisse, constat ex certissimis Phoenicum annalibus.” (Demonstratio Evangelica, p. 158. Paris. 1079, fob) In a very recent pub¬
lication, it is stated with equal confidence that Sanchoniatho “ is considered to be the most ancient writer of the heathen world.”
See the preface to Mr Cory’s Ancient Fragments of the Phoenician, Chaldsean, Egyptian, Tyrian, Carthaginian, Indian,. I ereiain.
and other Writers. Lond. 1832, 8vo.
1 Dodwell’s Discourse concerning Sanchoniathon’s Phoenician History, p. G2. Lond. 1681, 8vo.
2 Fabricii Bibliotheca Gr'seca, tom. i. p. 225. edit. Harles.
542
CUMBERLAND.
Cumber- returned to Cambridge, where, after a severe examination,
land. ]ie was elected fellow, along with Mr Orde, afterwards
 ' a master in Chancery, to the exclusion of two candidates
of the year above them. On his return to town he lived
as retired as if he had been still resident in his college.
His first offering to the press, which appeared about this
time, was a churchyard elegy in imitation of Gray’s, but,
as might be expected, greatly inferior in poetical merit.
It seems to have made almost no impression. “ I he pub¬
lic,” he observes, “ were very little interested with it, and
Hodsley as little profited.” Whilst he was with Lord Hali¬
fax he met with Mr Charles Townshend, then one of tne
lords of trade, to whom he first recommended himself by
the solution of some enigma or puzzle, and afterwards by
revising and writing remarks on a report drawn up by Mr
Townshend, which had been put into his hands, for that
purpose. About this time also he employed himself in
collecting materials for a poem in heroic verse on the
subject of India; but the design he afterwards abandon¬
ed as unsuitable ; a circumstance which, judging from the
specimen preserved in his ^IbhioIts, respecting the disco¬
veries of the Portuguese, can excite but little regret.
About this time he contracted an intimacy with Mr
Bubb Dodington, and became a frequent guest at La
Trappe, the residence of that eccentric personage, whom
he also visited in London. This was perfectly agreeable
to Lord Halifax, who not only lived upon intimate terms
with Mr Dodington, but was then forming some opposition
connections, having resigned his office as first lord of trade
and plantations, and detached himself from the Duke of
Newcastle’s administration. Cumberland also accompa¬
nied Mr Dodington to his seat of Eastbury, in Dorsetshire,
where he remained some time, and enjoyed ample oppor¬
tunities of observing the character of his host, of which he
has given a very interesting and graphic description in his
Memoirs. On his return from Dorsetshire, he offered him¬
self for a lay fellowship, then vacant, in Trinity College,
ship of reports in the office of trade and plantations under C
Lord Hillsborough.
The success with which Bickerstaff had brought for-'--
ward his operas of Love in a Village and The Maid of the
Mill, induced Cumberland to attempt a drama of the same
description, under the title of The Summer s Tale; but
although the music had been composed by Bach, Arne,
Arnold, and Simpson, it was performed, with little ap¬
plause, only for nine or ten nights. Subsequently, how¬
ever, the author cut it down to an afterpiece in two acts,
under the title of Amelia, in which form it met with toler¬
able success. The drama was published in 1765 and the
afterpiece in 1768. His next production was the comedy
of The Brothers, which was brought out at Covent-Garden,
well received by the audience, and published in 1769. He
now began to plan and compose The West Indian, which he
completed before leaving Ireland; and on his return to Lon¬
don he entered into an engagement with Garrick to bring
it out at his theatre, but he at the same time availed himself
of the manager’s suggestions, by adding a new scene, and
introducing other improvements. This piece, which ap¬
peared in 1771, proved eminently successful, although the
moral of the plot is far from being unexceptionable. Cum¬
berland next entered the lists of controversy, by publish¬
ing a pamphlet containing animadversions upon a charac¬
ter of Dr Bentley, which had been drawn by Bishop Lowth,
in a letter addressed to the author of the Divine Legation
of Moses demonstrated. This pamphlet passed through
two editions, but elicited no reply.
About the same time he was admitted into a literary
society, the members of which used to dine together upon
stated days at the British coffee-house ; and at one of these
meetings it was suggested to him to delineate the charac¬
ter of a North Briton, as he had already done those of an
Irishman and of a West Indian. He availed himself of the
hint, and in consequence drew the character of Colin Mac-
leod in his comedy of The Fashionable Lover; but the
Cambridge, and succeeded in attaining the object of his attempt, as might have been expected, proved a total
ambition; but he did not hold it long, owing to the con- failure, owing, no doubt, to the authors entire ignorance
dition of celibacy annexed to it. About this time he of the distinctive peculiarities of the people of whom Cohn
produced his first legitimate drama, The Banishment of Macleod was intended to be the representative. This co-
Cicero, a performance of some merit, but wholly unfit for medy, though in point of composition superior to the West
representation. It was accordingly rejected by Garrick, Indian, did not meet with equal success; and the author
and published by the author as a dramatic poem in 1761, resented the criticisms made upon it with that sensitive
4to. In the beginning of 1759, he married Elizabeth, the jealousy which latterly induced Garrick to call him “the
only daughter of George Ridge, Esq. of Kilmiston, to whom man without a skin.” Throughout his whole life, indeed, he
he had paid his addresses on receiving through Lord Hali- evinced a soreness to criticism, which necessarily exposed
fax an appointment as crown agent for Nova Scotia. On him to the very infliction which he dreaded so ml^cl
the accession of George III. Cumberland addressed a and felt so acutely. His comedy of The Choleric Man
poem in blank verse to the young sovereign ; and when proved more successful, but exposed him to the charge o
Lord Halifax was appointed lord-lieutenant of Ireland, he venting illiberal and contemptuous sarcasms against his
accompanied that nobleman as Ulster secretary, while his contemporaries; a charge which he endeavouied to re at
father was made one of the vice-regal chaplains. This by prefixing to the play, when he published it, a de i-
brought him in contact with the celebrated William Ge- cation to Detraction, directed chiefly against an Essay on
rard Hamilton, better known by the name of Single-speech the 1 heatre, in which a comparison was draw n between
Hamilton, who, having neither received his appointment laughing and sentimental comedy, and under the lattei
from Lord Halifax, nor been in the first instance altogether description some severe observations were pointed against
acceptable to that nobleman, rendered Cumberland’s situa- The Fashionable Lover. Cumberland s next dramatic pro-
tion exceedingly unpleasant. But the latter, notwithstand- duction was Union of Athens, altered from Shakspeare,
ing, acquitted himself so well that, towards the close of in which the parts of Evanthe and Alcibiades were, tie
the session, the lord-lieutenant expressed his satisfaction former nearly, and the latter altogether, new, and wll£ ’
with Cumberland’s services, and offered him a baronetcy, although it lias now fallen into neglect, was mvoara J
which, however, he judiciously declined; a circumstance received at the time. 1 he entertainment called ./«e o
which, he thinks, contributed to weaken his interest with of Hand, or Trip to Newmarket, was the last of his pieces
Lord Halifax. Why such an honour should have been of- produced by Garrick, before disposing of his property in
fered to a young man just commencing the career of pub¬
lic life, and wholly unprovided for, it is not easy to con¬
jecture. It appears, however, that when his patron after¬
wards became secretary of state, he applied in vain for the
situation of under secretary^, and only obtained the clerk-
piUUULCU. VJ Cll l ILXV, ~ I 1
Drury-Lane. It is only remarkable as containing anotnei
sketch of Hibernian character, though on a smaller scale
than the former one. The tragedy entitled The Bairn
of Hastings was brought out under the direction of Mr
Sheridan, and published in 1778.
Cum
ta
CUMBERLAND.
548
Cumberland’s prospects now began to brighten. On
Lord George Germaine’s accession to office, he was ap-
f*' pointed secretary to the board of trade, with an income
which could not but be acceptable to the father of six
children ; and he was particularly noticed by his lordship,
who continued his friend and patron till death. He after¬
wards resided at Tetworth, in Bedfordshire, in the vicinity
of Lady Frances Burgoyne, sister of Lord Halifax, and
during one of the summer recesses he passed there he wrote
his opera of Calypso, which was brought out at Covent-
Garden with indifferent success. The Widow of Delphi,
which he wrote the following season, has never been print¬
ed, although the author considered it as one of his very
best productions. The Bondsman, a tragi-comedy, and
The Duke of Milan, altered, also remain in manuscript,
probably without any great detriment to literature.
In 1780, Cumberland was sent on a confidential mission
to the courts of Madrid and Lisbon ; but this appointment,
however honourable in itself, seems to have been the
source of all his future troubles, and to have embittered
the remainder of his long life. The direct object of his
mission was to induce the court of Spain to enter into a
separate treaty with this country; but, although his con¬
duct gave satisfaction to the Spanish court, and procured
him the confidence and favour of the Spanish king, yet,
owing to the disturbances which at this time broke out in
London, and other untoward circumstances, he failed in
accomplishing the object of his mission, and was recalled,
in 1781, after having contracted, in the public service, a
debt of nearly L.5000, which Lord North’s ministry mean¬
ly refused, or at least neglected to pay, and which ulti¬
mately absorbed the whole of his hereditary property.
It has been asserted indeed that he exceeded his powers,
and compromised the ministry which had employed him;
but of this no evidence whatever has been produced, and
the losses to which he was subjected certainly amounted
to a punishment much too severe for a mere error in judg¬
ment. It appears, in fact, that on his journey homewards
his bills were stopped, and his credit rendered so utterly
bankrupt, that he would have been thrown into prison at
Bayonne, had not a fellow traveller advanced him a sum
sufficient to enable him to pursue his journey through
France. Nor did his misfortunes end even here. Mr
Burke’s economical bill having annihilated the board of
trade, Mr Cumberland lost his situation, and was forced
to retire w ith a compensation allowance, which, as is usual
in such cases, was far from being adequate to the emolu¬
ments of the office of which he had been deprived. Re¬
solved, however, to accommodate himself to circumstances
which he could not control, he now fixed his residence at
Tunbridge Wells, and made reductions in his establish¬
ment proportioned to his diminished income.
His first publication, after his return from Spain, was
Anecdotes of eminent Painters in Spain, a curious and in¬
teresting work, which he afterwards rendered more com¬
plete by the publication of a Catalogue of the King of
Spains Paintings. The Anecdotes were published in
1782, in two vols. 12mo ; the Catalogue appeared in 1787.
His comedy of The Walloons, which he had written be¬
fore settling at Tunbridge Wells, was brought out at Co¬
vent Garden Theatre, and followed by The Mysterious
Husband in 1783, as well as by a tragedy entitled The
1 Amb, which was acted once only, for the benefit of an
actor. In 1783 appeared his Letter to the Bishop of Llan-
daff, on his lordship’s proposal for equalizing the revenues
of the established church; and in 1785 were brought out
his tragedy of The Carmelite and his comedy of The Na-
Son. The collection of essays under the title of
Jhe Observer, were also first printed experimentally in
GS5, in two vols. l2mo; but a new edition, considerably
augmented, appeared in five volumes the following year; Cumber-
and when this was exhausted he made another arrange- land,
ment of the essays,^ and, having incorporated therewith
his translation of The Clouds of Aristophanes, published
the whole in six volumes. Ihese papers have since been
included in the collection of the British Essayists. His
other productions of this period are a Character of his pa¬
tron Lord Sackville, and a trashy pamphlet, published ano¬
nymously, entitled Curtius rescued from the Gulf, being
an attempt at defending some one against an attack made
on him by Dr Parr. His comedy of The Impostor, and
Arundel, a novel in two vols. 12mo, appeared in 1789; in
1792 he published Calvary, or the Death of Christ, a poem
in eight books, 4to; and, in 1795, he produced another
novel, in four volumes 12mo, under the title of Henry, a
production on which he bestowed more care and atten¬
tion than on Arundel, the hasty effusion of a few weeks
of leisure at Brighton. Cumberland is also the author of
some works of a serious cast, particularly a version of fifty
of the Psalms of David, A feiv plain Beasons why we
should believe in Christ, a considerable number of sermons,
numerous prayers, and metrical versions of passages select¬
ed from the Old Testament.
But the drama was the field which had the greatest
attraction for “ the Terence of England.” In 1793 he
brought out a comic opera in three acts, founded on the
story of Wat Tyler ; but the lord chamberlain having ob¬
jected to it, he wras obliged to recast and produce it under
the title of The Armourer. His comedy of The Country
Attorney was produced in the same year, at the summer
theatre, when under the direction of the elder Colman;
and here also, in 1794, were brought out his Box Lobby
Challenge, and Don Pedro. At the opening of the new
theatre in Drury Lane w'as represented his comedy of
The Jew, which he wrote with great rapidity, but which
had for its object to disabuse the public mind of unjust
prejudices against the character of a people who have so
long been without a country, and who have either been
persecuted or reviled in almost every country where they
have sojourned. His celebrated comedy of The Wheel of
Fortune came out in the preceding season, and was closely
followed by another called First Love. In 1796, Days of
Yore, a drama, was produced at Covent Garden; and, in
1795, The Last of the Family, a comedy, was brought out
at Drury Lane. Five other comedies were also produced
successively by this prolific writer, namely, False Impres¬
sions, The Word of Nature, The Dependant, The Eccentric
Lover, and The Sailors Daughter; of which the first was
represented at Covent Garden, and the last at Drury-Lane.
In the year 1806 he brought out Hints for Husbands, a
comedy, w'hich was performed at Covent Garden, but had
a run of five nights only; and in the same year he pub¬
lished Memoirs of his own Life, to which he afterwards
added a supplement. He was also concerned in The Ex-
odiad, an epic poem, now forgotten; John de Lancaster, a
novel, in 3 volumes; and Joanna of Montfaucon, a dramatic
romance, neither of them productions of any merit. Lie
was likewise the conductor of The London Review, a cri¬
tical journal established on the French plan of affixing to
each article the name of the writer ; but the attempt did
not succeed.
From the time when Mr Cumberland retired from pub¬
lic life and fixed his residence at Tunbridge Wells, he de¬
voted himself entirely to literary pursuits, and produced
the various works we have enumerated. Here also he lost
his wife, who had so long been the partner of his joys and
sorrows; but he bore the bereavement with the resigna¬
tion of a man of sense, convinced that patience is no mark
of insensibility, nor the parade of lamentation any evidence
of the sincerity or permanence of grief. During the alarm
544
CUM
Cumber- of invasion he caught the patriotic infection of the time,
land. anci having headed two companies of volunteer infantry,
received the commission of major-commandant. His lat¬
ter days were spent chiefly in London, where, on the /th
of May 1811, he expired after a short illness, at the house
of a friend in Bedford Place, being then in the eighty-
ninth year of his age. The last act of his life was the
publication of a poem entitled Retrospection, embracing
opinions of men and things which are much more fully and
satisfactorily treated in his Memoirs.
Of the personal character of Cumberland a pretty ac¬
curate judgment may be formed from his Memoirs. His
self-esteem was great, and his vanity overweening, ut,
although extremely sensitive to criticism, and intolerant o
censure, he had no real malignity in his composition, and,
like most excitable persons, seems to have been as placa¬
ble as he was irritable. His temperament was of a kind
which, if easily disturbed, as quickly recovered its balance ;
and there is every reason to believe that the predominant
tone of his feelings was alike generous and liberal. On
the only occasion of his life where his moral principles
were put to the test they appeared to the very greatest
advantage. His conduct respecting the bequest of Mr
Reynolds, who had devised to Mr Cumberland his estate,
to the exclusion of the natural heir, evinced the greatest
disinterestedness, and the highest sense of honour and pro¬
bity. It was his misfortune to have been bred a courtier,
and never to have taken his degrees in that school. He
evidently wanted the suppleness and versatility necessary
to ensure success in such a career. In a subordinate sta¬
tion, which merely required attention to formal and tech¬
nical duties, he acquitted himself indifferently wrell; but,
in venturing to act as minister, he found himself wofully
deficient in those qualities without the possession of which
genius and talents are of little avail. At the same time,
having associated with most of the eminent men of his
time, the sketches and anecdotes which he has introduced
into his Memoirs are in the highest degree inteiesting,
whilst his habits of observing and discriminating character
give to his delineations an authority, and consequently a
value, which it is difficult to over-estimate. In society
his chief aim was to please; and, by the admission of his
contemporaries, few men appeared to more advantage in
conversation, or evinced a more perfect mastery, when he
chose to exercise it, of the art of pleasing. The great faults
of his character were a tendency to lavish hollow compli¬
ments on those who were present, and a propensity, with¬
out provocation or necessity, to indulge in bitter sarcasms
against individuals after they had taken their departure.
That this was the result of mere recklessness, or of a desire
to provoke or minister to mirth, may be readily believed;
but, by giving way to so unfortunate a bias, he lost more than
he gained; and, although his address was studied, polite,
and courtly, his character for sincerity became depreciated
beyond all recovery. As a writer, he is more remarkable
for the number than for the excellence of his works ; but
many of them, it should be remembered, were hastily pro¬
duced in order to better his income, and some of them are
marked by no ordinary degree of intellectual power. In
every variety of fortune the drama was his favourite pur¬
suit; and if he has produced much that is perishable or
forgotten, he has also evolved creations which have been
enregistered as among the finest efforts of genius. The
character of Penruddock in The Wheel of Fortune, for ex¬
ample, is a masterpiece, which received a double conse¬
cration from the histrionic talents of John Kemble, by
whom it was so often and so nobly personated. As a poet
he cannot by any means rank high; for, while he had a
play of imagination, which unfitted him for the concerns
of actual life and business, his warmest admirers can only
CUN
claim for him the praise of correct versification and ele- Cu
gant sentiment, which, however, has secured for some of
his poetical works a considerable share of popularity.^
With regard to his Observer, now that he has acknowledg-
ed how much he borrowed from the manuscripts of his '
grandfather Bentley, we need scarcely say that it no long,
er supports his pretensions as a Greek critic. His learn¬
ing was shallow, and, like his wit, it was often taken at
second hand. (a.)
CUMBRAY, Great and Little, two islands in the
Frith of Clyde, in Scotland, belonging to Buteshire. See
Buteshire.
CUMLY, a small district of Hindustan, in the pro¬
vince of Malabar, South Canara. It is situated on the
sea coast, between the twelfth and thirteenth degrees of
north latitude. It was formerly governed by a rajah of
the Khetni tribe, a military caste from the north of India,
who, however, adopted the custom of the Nairs, by per¬
petuating the succession in the eldest of the female line.
The present rajah still resides in the country, but he has
neither lands nor authority. By far the greater part of
the coast is occupied by a chain of salt-water lakes; but
the necks of land interspersed render them of little use
for inland navigation.
Cumly, the capital of the above district, twenty-five
miles south by east from Mangalore. It is situated on a
high peninsula, in a salt-water lake, which is separated
from the sea by a spit of sand. Two rivers fall into this
lake, and nearly inclose the ground on which the town
stands. It consists of a hundred and fifty houses, and is
inhabited both by Hindus and Mahommedans. Long.
75. 2. E. Lat. 12. 25. N.
CUNDINAMARCA, the northern part of New Grena¬
da. It forms a department of the republic of Colombia,
comprehends the provinces of Bogota, Antioquia, Mari-
quita, and Neiva, and contains 371,000 inhabitants. The
chief place is Santa Fe de Bogota.
CUNDAPOOR, a town of Hindustan, in the province
of Aurungabad, belonging to the Nizam, thirty-five miles
west-south-west from the city of Aurungabad. Long. 75.
32. E. Lat. 19. 37. N.
CUNDWAH, a town of Hindustan, in the Mahratta
territories, in the province of Khandesh, fifty miles north
from Boorhanpoor. Long. 76. 18. E. Lat. 22. 2. N.
CUNEIFORM, in general, an appellation given to any
body having the shape of a wedge.
CUNEUS, in Antiquity, a company of infantry drawn
up in form of a wedge, in order to penetrate or break
through the enemy’s ranks.
CUNINA, in Mythology, a goddess who had the care
of little children.
CUNITZ, or Cunitia, Maria, the eldest daughter ot
Hendric Cunitz, doctor of medicine in Silesia, was born
about the beginning of the seventeenth century, bhe
learned languages with amazing facility, and understood
Polish, German, French, Italian, Latin, Greek, and Hebrew.
She attained a knowledge of the sciences with equal ease,
and was skilled in history, physic, poetry, painting, ana
music: and yet these were only her amusements; tor
she applied herself to the mathematics, and to astronomy,
which she made her principal study, and was ranked amongs
the ablest astronomers of her time. Her astronomica
tables, which acquired her a prodigious reputation, were
printed in Latin and German, and dedicated t0
peror Ferdinand III. She married Elias de Lewm, M.u-
and died at Pistehen in the year 1664.
CUNNINGHAM, Alexander, a celebrated critic an
civilian, was the son ot John Cunningham, rnirnster
Cumnock, in Ayrshire, and the owner of a smafi est ,
named Block, and situated in the same county, tie
Cun
ha
CUNNINGHAM.
served heir to his father in the year 1677.1 The time of
his birth and the place of his education have not hitherto
been ascertained. The earliest employment in which we
find him engaged was that of tutor to Lord George Dou¬
glas, who was a younger son of the first duke of Queens-
berry, and died in the year 1693.2 It was probably through
the influence of this noble family that he was appointed
professor of the civil law in the university of Ed'inburgh.
In 1698 the Scotish parliament voted a salary of one
hundred and fifty pounds sterling to Alexander Cunning¬
ham, as professor of the civil law, “ nominat and designed
to that profession.” The act was to continue in force du¬
ring the period of five years; and the same provision in
his favour was, for the same period, renewed in 170L3
On the 18th of October 1710, the magistrates of Edin¬
burgh, without recognizing any former appointment, no¬
minated James Craig professor of the civil law.4 He was
a descendant of the famous Sir Thomas Craig, and is said
to have filled his situation in a manner not unworthy of
his ancestor.5 * * The city magistrates, regarding themselves
as the proper patrons of the university, have always en¬
tertained the greatest jealousy of any interference on the
part of the crown; and as Cunningham must have held a
royal professorship, they would studiously decline to re¬
cognize his appointment. The payment of his salary must
have ceased at the expiration of the second term of five
years, that is, in 1709; and it was in the course of the en¬
suing year that the magistrates established another chair;
nor is it superfluous to mention that this new foundation
took place after the death of the duke of Queensberry,
who had acted as her majesty’s commissioner at the im¬
portant crisis of the union.
So early as the year 1590, the judges, the magistrates,
and the advocates and clerks to the signet, had raised a
fund of L.3000 for the endowment of a professorship of
law in the university of Edinburgh; each of these three
545
parties contributing an equal portion. Adam Newton, an Cunning-
advocate, was first appointed to the office; but havingne- ham.
glected to obtain the approbation of the magistrates, he
was dismissed in the year 1594. He afterwards procured
bettei employment, and successively became tutor and
secretary to Prince Henry.3 In the professorship he was
succeeded by Hadrian Damman of Bisterveld, who was
born in the neighbourhood of Ghent, and there was for
some time employed in teaching the classics ;7 he retained
the chair for a few years, and was afterwards resident of
the States-General at the court of Scotland. In the year
1597, after his resignation, the interest of one third of the
sum formerly contributed was allotted for a professor of
humanity, and the interest of the remainder for the main¬
tenance of six exhibitioners. Newton and Damman had
both taught humanity, without reading any public lectures
on law.8 After the more recent foundation of a law-pro¬
fessorship, the resort of Scotish students to the foreign
universities became somewhat less frequent, but the prac¬
tice was never entirely discontinued; and of the present
race of lawyers, several have studied at Leyden, Utrecht,
and Gottingen.
It is highly probable that Cunningham had completed
his academical 'course at Leyden or Utrecht.9 He had
equally devoted his attention to the studies of philology
and the civil law, which at that period were not very vi¬
gorously cultivated in his native country ; and he at length
fixed his residence in Holland, where those studies were
prosecuted with uncommon ardour and success. A late
writer has erroneously described him as an advocate: in
the records of the faculty for that period, we find no ad¬
vocate of the same name. He now settled at the Hague,
where he appears to have resided during the remainder
of his life; but we can discover no evidence of his having
there taught “ both the civil and canon laws.” He ap¬
parently lived in Holland as a private gentleman, sup-
1 Inquisitionum Abbreviatio, vol. i. Ayr, 612. 2 Wood’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. ii. p, 380.
3 Acts of the Parliaments of Scotland, vol. x. p. 176. vol. xi. p. 203. On the 19th of August 1698, a petition from Alexander
Cunningham, “ for encouraging a design of illustrating the civill law,” had been remitted to the committee for the security of the
kingdom. Vol. x. p. 145—About this period, several advocates began to read private lectures on the civil law. One of these was
Alexander Drummond, who in the 3rear 1699 inserted the following advertisement in an Edinburgh newspaper: “ These are to give
advertisement to all persons who are desirous to be instructed in the knowledge of the Institutions and Pandects of the Civil Law,
and the laws of this kingdom, or either of the two, or both, that Mr Alexander Drummond of East-field, Advocate, does profess to
teach the same ; and by reason of a singular method he uses in teaching of the civil law, he undertakes to perfite and accomplish any
of a middle capacity, more in a years time, then others have been by being abroad and out of the country 3 years. How profitable
and advantagious this may tend to the kingdom in general, he leaves it to every one to .judge. He is to be spoke with at his lodging
in the foot of Blackfrier Wind.” Another private lecturer on the civil and municipal laws was John Spottiswoode ; and their ex¬
ample was followed by John Cunningham, who published his inaugural lecture under the title of “ Joannis Cuningamii, J.Cti. Oratio
inauguralis, recitata Edinburgi cum primum Jus Civile docere ccepit.” Edinb. 4to. This publication is without a date, but it pro¬
bably appeared about the same period with “ A Discourse by Air John Cunninghame, Advocate, at the Beginning of his Lessons on
the Scots Law.” Edinb. 1795, 4to. He was the second son of Sir John Cunningham of Caprington, Bart, an eminent lawyer.
| (Douglas's Baronage of Scotland, p. 267.)
4 Begister of the Town Council, vol. xxxix. p. 948.
j 5 Tytler’s Account of the Life and Writings of Sir Thomas Craig, p. 321. Edinb. 1823, 12mo.
6 Adam Newton was the son of a baker in Edinburgh. Though a layman, he held the deanery of Durham from 1606 to 1620,
when he resigned it; and during the latter year he was created a baronet. He translated into Latin King James’s treatise against
Vorstius, and the first six books of Paolo Sarpi’s history of the council of Trent. The last two books were translated by Dr Bedell.
(Birch’s Life of Prince Henry, p. 14. 218. Lond. 1760, 8vo.) “ Sic se gessit,” says Dempster, “ ut moderatione summa cum
maximum locum occupant, majorem mereri censeretur.” (Hist. Ecclesiast. Gentis Scotorum, p. 505.)
7 Sanderus de Gandavensibus Eruditionis Kama Claris, p. 3. Antverp. 1624, 4to. Andreae Bibliotheca Belgica, p. 9. edit.
Lovan. 1643, 4to—According to these writers, Damman was invited to Scotland by Buchanan. In this country he appears to have
acquired an estate; for in his metaphrase of Du Bartas, he describes himself as Dominusde Faire-hill. He married Margaret, a grand¬
daughter of John Stewart, earl of Buchan, but she left no issue. (Wood’s Peerage, vol. i. p. 268.) The literary historians of Flan¬
ders mention some of his poems as having been printed on the continent; and after his settlement in Scotland, he published the fol¬
lowing works. Schediasmata. Edinb. 1590, 4to. Bartasias, qui de Alundi Creatione libri septem ; e Guilielmi Salustii Dn. de
Bartas Septimana, poemate Francico, liberius tralati, et multis in locis aucti. Edinb. 1600, 8vo. Both these volumes were printed
; by Waldegrave. The first of them contains one Greek and six Latin poems, all relating to the royal nuptials, and the reception and
coronation of the queen.
3 Crawford’s Hist, of the University of Edinburgh, p. 34. 40.
s A letter of Jacobus Gronovius, dated at Leyden on the 9 th of Alay 1687, contains the following passage: “ Cuningamius ubi
hmreat, postquam ex hac urbe discessit, nullo labore potui inquirere, nisi quod populares quidam ejus dicant Germanicum iter ab eo
susceptum, non alicubi fixisse mansionem : unde tuas ad eum literas etiamnum detineo.” (Clarorum Belgarum ad Ant. Alaglia-
bechium Epistolse, tom. ii. p. 168. Florent. 1745, 2 tom. 8vo.) As we have other evidence of the civilian’s acquaintance with Gro¬
novius, we suppose him to be the individual here mentioned.
VOL. VII. 3 z
546
CUNNINGHAM.
Cunning- ported by the rent of his estate, and probably by an an-
ham. nuity from the noble family with which he had been con-
nected. From a notice which occurs in a work of Best,
published in the year 1707, it may perhaps be inferred
that he was then residing in that country;1 and a letter
of Cuper, dated on the 12th of November 1709, mentions
him as having been residing at the Hague.2
His edition of Horace made its appearance in the year
1721, but long before that period he enjoyed a very high
reputation as a classical scholar. His notes are brief, and
relate to the various readings; but he announced his in¬
tention of preparing another edition, illustrated with moie
copious annotations ; and at the same time he published a
separate volume, consisting of animadversions on the notes
and emendations of Bentley, whose edition of Horace had
been printed ten years before. To this volume, which
displays much learning and sagacity, and evinces tne au¬
thor to have studied the art of criticism with uncommon
assiduity and success, he has prefixed an address to Ur
Bentley, whom he everywhere treats with much freedom,
and even severity. Bentley was a man of great vigour of
intellect, and of erudition not less accurate than exten¬
sive: of the Greek language he possessed a masterly know¬
ledge ; and he had studied the ancient metres with a de¬
gree of nicety unknown to former critics. His principal
defect seems to have been a want of taste; for when he
quits the mechanism and analogy of language, and the
mere structure of verse, he cannot be regarded as a very
safe guide in subjects of polite literature. His conjectural
emendations, particularly of the Greek poets, often dis¬
play singular felicity; but on some occasions they are
chiefly remarkable for their audacity. Many of his rash
conjectures on Horace are very successfully exposed by
Cunningham. One of the emendations on which he seems
to congratulate himself with most complacency, is the
substitution of ter natos in the subsequent verse of the
Art of Poetry:
Et male tornatos ineudi reddere versus.
A reading more repugnant to every principle of taste
could not easily have been devised; and yet his learned
correspondent Graevius speaks of it in the following terms:
“ Earn qui videt et non probat, is in his litteris caecioi est
quavis talpa. Quid enim torno cum incude ? 3 Bentley
professes to be offended with the incongruity of Horace s
metaphor, and he asks the same question with Grsevius;
but he perceives no incongruity in an animal being pro¬
duced at three births, and being moreover hammered
upon an anvil. Cunningham, who was fully aware of this
absurdity, has unnecessarily adopted the reading formatos,
which appears somewhat flat. There is in reality no oc¬
casion for any change: when an artist has turned a piece
of iron without being able to give it the shape or polish
which he intended, he very naturally brings it back to the
anvil, and a second time prepares it for the lathe. The Cut*,
metaphor therefore which occurs in this passage, is at hg
once consistent and expressive. The vanity and arrogance v
with which Bentley exercised his critical functions,4 are
likewise exposed by this formidable antagonist. Cunning,
ham appears to have been the friend of Le Clerc, and on
that account he may have pointed his animadversions
with more keenness.
Cunningham’s animadversions excited no ordinary de¬
gree of attention, and he was acknowledged to be the most
able of Bentley’s critical antagonists. Jani, a recent edi¬
tor of the odes of Horace, speaks of him in the following
terms: “ Omnium doctissime in hoc castigando versatus
est Alexander Cuningamius, vir summus et doctissimus,
unus omnium qui in Horatium scripserunt criticorum prin-
ceps, ipsique Bentleio, si quid intelligo, anteferendus....
Emendationes autem ejus fatendum est omniun^doctissi-
mas esse ac ingeniosissimas, saepe, si ad leges artis cri-
tica? excutiantur, pro unice veris Jectionibus habendas.
Ssepius tamen non minor in iis, quam in Bentleianis, auda-
cia est, sed illamelior profecto aliorum indocta modestia.”5
This estimate differs very widely from that of Wakefield,
who styles Cunningham “ ille criticus illaudabilis,”6 and
repeatedly honours him with some of the peculiar graces
of his elocution. Of his own character as a critic, the
greatest of living scholars has pronounced no very favour¬
able opinion.7 Klotz remarks that Sanadon has pilfered
much from both Bentley and Cunningham.8
The Scotish critic appears to have been intimately con-
nected with most of the eminent scholars and civilians
who then flourished in Holland.9 In France he had se¬
veral learned correspondents; and from a passage in his
animadversions, it may be inferred that he was acquaint¬
ed with Addison.10 Duker and various other critics men-
tion him in friendly terms.11 When Otto published his
great collection of tracts on the civil law, he professed to
have been chiefly indebted to Bynkershoek, Cunningham,
and Brenkman. “ Post virum ilium primarium, alios quo-
que recolere juvat, qui re et judicio suo hoc opus in-
struxerunt. Hos inter haud postremum locum obtinent
Alexander Cuninghamus, et Henricus Brenkmannus, viri
clarissimi, et optima fide de republica literaria paiiter ac
jurisprudentia merentes, qui repetitis deliberationibus ad
delectum librorum institutis, adfuerunt, dignoscere cauti
quid solidum crepet.”12 The chief labour of Cunning-
ham’s life was a critical edition of the Pandects, which
however he did not live to publish. Of this long-medi¬
tated edition great expectations were formed. In a let¬
ter addressed to Cuper in the year 1709, Leibnitz, having
mentioned his own project of remodelling the Pandects,
expresses a wish to have his labours associated with those
of Cunningham. “ Nempe cuique auctoris libro sua red-
dita sunt verba in Pandectas Justiniani relata. Tantum
jam reliquum est, ut edantur haec Redigesta, sed sine ah-
1 “ Sed et insuner ” says Best, “ ne quid dubites, idem mihi adseverayit vir doctissimus Cunninghamius, natione Scotus qui pne-
clara ingenii monumenta, quibus jurisprudentiam arctissime sibi deyinxit, non diutius, °ultra! 1707, 8vo.) See
ipsum sLius percontatus didicisset ab accuratissimo Jacobo Gronovio.” (Ratio Emendandr Leges, p. 17- LUtraj. 1707, )
** 6 raJ' “ “Sen,lei! Hotels, p. 1SJ. Lend. 1807,
“ sobrite critices fuisse studiosissimum.” (Narratio de Henrico Brenkmanno, p. 10. Gottingae, 1/04, 4to.)
6 Wakefield ad Lucretium, lib. v. v. 205. _ m nutpm limnne haud accuratior
• “ In quo viro,” says Hermann, “ quum quantum ingemi, tantum effrenatse temeritatis, Graecae autem 1 g exteronim
nuam Lath.® cogmtio sit, debet ille aliquam sane, sed non earn anctontatem habere, quam apud nostrates, ninm sequos
judices, consequutus est.” (Prsef. in Euripidis Hecubam, p. iv. Lipsiae, 1800, 8vo.)
8 Klotzii Vindiciie Q.. Horatii Flacci, p. 206. Bremse, 1764, 8vo. *i „ cnnrmrl pditinn of Hr Irvine's Memoirs of the Life
9 Some of his letters to J. P. d’Orville may be found in the appendix to the second edition ot Hr Irving s m
and Writings of George Buchanan, p. 417. Edinb. 1817, 8vo. u ^ . f. in rlorum. Lugd. Bat. 1722, 8vo.
I o Cuningamii Animadversiones, p. 214. Huaen pran. a m u
II Thesaurus Juris Romani, tom. i. praef.
CUNNINGHAM.
547
quo cultu, itaque optandum foret emendationes ex Pan-
dectis Florentinis accedere ; et cum intellexerim Cunning-
' hamum Scotum, doctrina et ingenio valentem, multum in
constituendo textu laborasse, non video ubi melius emen¬
dationes vel collationes suas collocare posset.”1
Cunningham died in the year 1730. The auction of
his library commenced on the 20th of November, and he
may be supposed to have died some months before that
period. His collection of books was very curious and
valuable, particularly in the departments of philology and
jurisprudence.2 The printed catalogue describes it as a
most splendid library, and mentions that the greater part
of the books were in gilt vellum or calf. His real and
personal property descended to his nephew, the Rev.
George Logan, A. M., afterwards one of the ministers of
Edinburgh. The estate of Block was at that time worth
between fifty and sixty pounds a year, and may at pre¬
sent be worth five times as much. With respect to his
papers, we find some information in a letter from Sir John
Pringle to Forbes of Culloden.
“ I wrott to Mr Logan of Dunbar, as I told you I would
do, both in your name and mine, about his uncle Mr Cun¬
ningham’s papers, and I have since had an evening’s con¬
versation with him; the sum of which was, that his uncle
has not left one single scrape of any thing ready for the
press, or even in any tolerable order. His notes on Horace
are written on the margin of six volumes, whereof three
are the text of Horace as he published it, and the other
three are his animadversions on Bentley. The use of these
I am promised again next week: the Lord have mercy on
the patients till I have done with them! His notes on
Phsedrus are likewise only on the margins of two editions
ofPhaedrus; but he thinks them fuller than the others,
and is talking of giving them to Mr Ruddiman, if he will
be at pains to putt them in order and publish them. He
has marginal notes upon several other authors, as Virgil,
Statius, Quintillian, Cicero; any of which he offers to
send me after I have done with Horace. His notes on
the Corpus are larger than any of the rest, and not writt
on the margin, as the rest. His copy of the Corpus is
interleaved with clean paper; so that there is a leaf of
written notes for every printed leaf. He told me the
Advocats Library has applied to him to have it, but he
has given the curators no answer as yet, nor did he seem
determined when he spoke to me.—What will surprise you
most is, that he has left nothing of his scheme of the
Christian religion. Mr Logan told me he had inquired at
him about it when he was in his perfect senses, but that
he declared to him that he had never putt it in writing,
and that he would dictate it to him any day, for he had
it all in his head, and that it could be contain’d in four or
five sheets of paper; however, every day that Logan press-
i ed him to do it, he found always some reason for shifting
it, till he was incapable of doing any thing.” This letter
is dated at Edinburgh on the 13th of January 1731; and
on the 2d of February, he writes thus : <c I have gott two Cunning-
volumes of Horace, with Cunningham’s marginal notes; ham.
but the hand is so bad, and the lines so closs on one ano-
ther, that I have difficulty to make sense of them, tho’
I perceive no siglte, or secret marks, among them. How¬
ever, I design to give true pains, and you will see proba¬
bly the fruit of my labours when you return.”3
His speculations on the evidences of the Christian re¬
ligion are mentioned in a letter from T. Burnet to Locke,
dated at London on the 17th of March 1699. “ I thought
once of sending this packet with Mr Cunningham, who
told me at my chambers some days ago he was to go out
to you; but now, after waiting longer than his set time,
I was resolved to delay no longer. I wish you would in¬
dulge him, before he leaves you, to piece together his
proofs of the Christian religion, that the world may enjoy
that light he hath so long promised.”4
What became of the papers mentioned by Pringle, we
have not been able to ascertain. In the Advocates Li¬
brary there are copies of Vinnius’s first edition of the In¬
stitutes, and Best’s Ratio Emendandi Leges, with manu¬
script notes ascribed to Cunningham : they were present¬
ed in the year 1763 by David Clerk, M. D. the son of ano¬
ther physician to be afterwards mentioned. The greater
part of the notes was apparently written by some other
person. We subjoin a list of the publications which bear
Cunningham’s name.
1. Alexandri Cuningamii Animadversiones in Richardi
Bentleii Notas et Emendationes ad Q. Horatium Flaccum.
Hagae Comitum, apud Thomam Jonsonium, 1721, 8vo.
2. Q. Horatii Flacci Poemata: ex antiquis codd. et
certis observationibus emendavit, variasque scriptorum et
impressorum lectiones adjecit Alexander Cuningamius.
Hagae Comitum, apud Thomam Jonsonium, 1721, 8vo.
3. P. Virgilii Maronis Bucolica, Georgica, et iEneis,
ex recensione Alexandri Cuningamii Scoti, cujus emenda¬
tiones subjiciuntur. Edinburgi, apud G. Hamilton et J.
Balfour, 1743, 8vo.
4. Phaedri Augusti Liberti Fabularum .lEsopiarum libri
quinque, ex emendatione Alexandri Cuningamii Scoti.
Accedunt Publii Syri, et aliorum veterum Sententiae. Edin¬
burgi, apud G. Hamilton et J. Balfour, Academiae Typo-
graphos, 1757, 8vo.
Of this posthumous edition of Virgil, the preface was
written by John Clerk, M. D.5 who is described as a phy¬
sician of great learning and eminence, and of whom Dr
Cullen has left an interesting account.6 He likewise pub¬
lished the edition of Phaedrus,7 which contains a preface
by the editor, but is without annotations. Some of the
conjectural emendations are considered by Schwabe as
too bold, and others as unnecessary.8 It appears from one
of Drakenborch’s letters to La Croze, that Cunningham
had formed the design of attacking Bentley’s edition of
that poet, but finally abandoned it, lest he should interfere
with a similar design of his friend Burman.9 (x.)
1 Lettres de Gisbert Cuper, p. 233.
5 Bibliotheca Cuningamia, continens selectissimos rarissimosque omni in lingua Libros: hos omnes multo judicio, vigilantia, ac
labore collegit celeberrimus ac eruditissimus vir II. Alexander Cuningamius, Jurisconsultus et Polyhistor eximius. Lugd. Bat. 1730,
8vo. Pp. iso.
3 Culloden Papers, p. 120-1. Lond. 1815, 4to.
4 See Lord King’s Life of John Locke, p. 403. Lond. 1829, 4to—The writer of the letter, who speaks of his chambers like a
lawyer, was perhaps Sir Thomas Burnet, a son of the bishop of Salisbury.
Ruddimanni Bibliotheca liomana, p. 10. Edinb. 1757, 8vo.
6 See Dr Thomson’s Account of the Life, Lectures, and Writings of William Cullen, M. D. vol. i. p. 525.
7 Catalogue of the Library of the learned Dr John Clerk, Physician in Edinburgh, and of Dr David Clerk, his son, p. 72. Edinb.
! 1768, 8vo.
8 Notitia Litteraria de Phaedro, p. 104, prefixed to Schwabe’s second edition. ' Brunsvigse, 1806, 2 tom. 8vo.
9 Thesauri Epistolici Lacroziani tom. i. p. 124. Lipsise, 1742-6, 3 tom. 4to—One of the Cunninghams is mentioned in a letter
from Colonel Codrington to Dr Charlett, written in June 1702. (Letters written by eminent Persons, vol. i. p. 133. Lond. 1813,
3 vols. 8vo.) The editor of Horace is said to have assisted in revising a French translation (Haye, 1725, 2 tom. 4to) of the first
548
CUNNINGHAM.
Cunning¬
ham.
Cunningham, Alexander, the historian, has frequently
been identified with the professor of the civil law, but it has
at length been ascertained that they were different indivx-
duals.& The father of the historian was Alexander Cun¬
ningham, minister of Ettrick, in Selkirkshire, and the
owner of a small estate, named Hyndhope, and situated
in the same county. The elder son, James, inherited this
property, and left descendants. Alexander was educated
at Selkirk school, and was originally destined for the
church. According to one account, he prosecuted his aca¬
demical studies in Holland: this account, which is suffi¬
ciently probable in itself, is contained in a communication
from the late earl of Buchan to Dr Thomson. From a
manuscript notice written by a descendant o. his elder
brother, we learn that, in the capacity of a travelling tu¬
tor, “ he was employed both in the Argyle and Newcastle
families;” that he afterwards studied the law of England,
and was in great repute as a chamber-counsel, but never
pleaded at the bar. He visited his brother at Hyndhope
when Murray of Philiphaugh was sheriff of the county,
1... .1-1 1™„ in Scotland.1 His connexion
but did not long remain in Scotland.1 His connexion
with the Argyle family, as travelling tutor to Lord Lorne,
was previously known from other sources of information.
It was stated by the late earl of Hyndford that Cunning¬
ham travelled with his uncle and his father, James, after¬
wards earl of Hyndford, and the Hon. William Car¬
michael, afterwards solicitor-general for Scotland; that
they passed two winters at Utrecht and Franeker, between
the years 1692 and 1695, and subsequently travelled to¬
gether for some time. “ I have heard, says his lordship,
‘‘ that the same Alexander Cunningham was afterwards
tutor to an English nobleman, whose name is unknown
to me.” If we may rely on the notice already quoted,
this young nobleman must have been connected with the
Newcastle family. A letter from Cunningham to Car-
stares, dated at Bruges on the 20th of October 1697, con¬
tains the subsequent gleanings of information. _ “ My Lord
Argyle has not yet written any thing concerning his son :
he was gone from this place to his regiment befbie I came
here, which I was glad of, for I know his 1. colonel will
take care of him.... As for the project, I know you will not
only use all your credit with Secretary Ogilvy, but will
also recommend the thing to all the Scots nobility and
gentry you shall meet with at London. I have bought in
this country a considerable number of books, in older to
the carrying of it on; and, so soon as I am fiee of my L.
Lorne, I resolve to set seriously about it.” 2 Lord Lorne,
though only about seventeen years of age, was now colo¬
nel of a regiment in Flanders. In the course of the fol¬
lowing year, Dr Lister found Cunningham at Paris, and
he makes an allusion to his having recently visited Rome.
“ I had a visit,” he remarks, “ from Mr Cunningham,
tutor to my Lord Lorne, a very learned and curious man
in books. I askt him (knowing him to have been lately
volume of Bishop Burnet’s History of his own Time. to ^ S'cheT^wifiiMJ
chess-player was not inferior to his reputation as a scholar. About the j ear t ■, mmo with him’ said he thought he was
Alexander Cunningham of Bloak, his old acquaintance. Mr Cunningham, ^ ^ P ‘U‘^g ‘ bted tbat Would be too much, which
able to give him a rook and a bishop of advantage, and his very outmost was queen, but . f j Wodrow, A.M.
was a high commendation from him who is reckoned the best chess-P ayer in Europe. (Wodrow s Lite ot James
Professor of Divinity in the University of Glasgow, p. 174. Edinb. U -L individual the late Mr Alexander Cunning-
* All these particulars we state on the authority ot a notice written by a w,ell;^0WJ ’d in comlllitted to writing,
ham, jeweller in Edinburgh, who was himself descended rom the ‘ls ^1“ifn!1st Ca ldbro^e’ j* when in London, from the
from his father’s information, the circumstances related by him as they now stand, these  
,m ieweller in Edinburgh, who was himself descended trom the nisionan s emei ' - r nndon from
.. from Ms father’s information, the circumstances related by him as they now stand; these he learnt when in London,
widow of his grand-uncle.” From the same source we derive our information respecting Cunningham s ch
2 Carstares’s State-Papers and Letters, p. 3C0. Edinb. 1774, 4to.
1 Cunrfin^iam^Hist.^rf^Great^BHtain^ ved! h p"^. "carstares’s' State’-pJpmrs, p. 709-10. See likewise Dr Thomson’s Intro-
<ll’"t About the same period, there was a third scholar of the name of Alexander Cunningham, °ryfr ’rihewriTe.1 of
university of Edinburgh. His testament was confirmed by the commissary court on the 20th of March 10. /
a Latin poem, subjoined to a work entitled Gramnialica Latina, authore Patricio Dykes Pertherm. Ldmo. 10,., o
at Rome) very particularly about the papers of Monsieur Cunr/
d’Azout. He told me that he saw him not half a year hai
before he died, and was very intimately acquainted with W
him, and saw him for a twelvemonth very often. That he
told him that he had about 80 difficult passages in Vitru¬
vius, which he had commented and explained; and the
correction of a great number of errata in the text. Also
that upon Julius Frontinus (though that was a much less
task) he had much more to say than he had upon Vitru¬
vius.”3 From a passage in Cunningham’s history, Dr
Thomson had inferred that the author must have accom¬
panied Lord Lorne to Rome; but from the context he
was led to suppose that this occurrence must have taken
place about the close of 1699 or the beginning of 1700.
In the year 1701, Cunningham was employed in a new
capacity. He was sent to France by the king’s autho¬
rity : the ostensible object of his mission was to conduct
a negociation respecting the trade between Scotland and
France, but he is supposed to have supplied the king with
important information of another kind.4 During the reign
of George I. he was appointed minister to the state of
Venice, and he retained his functions from 1715 to 1720.
How long he survived, we have not hitherto been able to
ascertain, but the earl of Hyndford is known to have
visited him in London in the year 1735. _ He was married,
and had four sons and a daughter. His eldest son, Ro¬
bert, a barrister, died unmarried. Thomas married, and
had a son and a daughter. Robert died in 1748, and
Thomas in 1749 : their uncle, James Cunningham of
Hyndhope, attended the funerals of both ; and at that of
the latter he acted as chief mourner, the only son of the
deceased being then a child. Alexander, the third son,
was educated at Westminster school, and afterwards went
to Leyden, where he died. Jane, the historian’s only
daughter, was married to Mr Clayton, brother to the
mayor of Newcastle. It is sufficiently evident that the
historian was a different person from Alexander Cunning¬
ham, who died on the 15th of May 1737, and was buried
in the chancel of St Martin’s church. By his testament,
registered at Doctors Commons, the latter makes a provi¬
sion for nephews and nieces, without any mention of his
own descendants. ...
Long after the death of Cunningham, his Latin history
came into the possession of Dr Hollingbery, archdeacon
of Chichester, who describes the author as nearly con¬
nected with his family. The original has not been pub¬
lished ; but a spirited translation, executed by William
Thomson, LL. D. made its appearance, under the title of
“ The History of Great Britain, from the Revolution in
1688 to the Accession of George the First.” Lond. 1787,
2 vols. 4to. It is certainly a curious circumstance that,
at so barren a period of its literary annals, Scotland should
have produced two learned writers of the same name and
surname.5 The identity of their pursuits and accomplish-
^111
lii
h
CUP
]unof
phal
]upai
^.4
merits is likewise remarkable : both of them were travel¬
ling tutors, and both lawyers; both of them were great
proficients in Roman literature, and both were famous for
their skill at chess. When we consider all these coinci¬
dences, as well as the chronological agreement, it does
not appear surprising that they should frequently have
been supposed to be one and the same individual. It is
remarked by Dr Thomson, that if we duly examine Cun¬
ningham s history, “ we shall find reason to pronounce it
a just and legitimate composition, and perhaps to rank its
author in the first class of our historians.” Most readers
will at least be disposed to admit that he was a man of
learning and talents, and that he has made some import¬
ant additions to the common stock of materials for the
history of the eventful period to which his work relates.
His decided attachment to the principles of the Whigs,
will further recommend him to those who prefer the in¬
terest of the great body of the people to the interest of a
particular family and particular classes. (x.)
CUNOCEPHALI, or Cynocephali, in Mythology Jr om.
xuwv, dog, and xspaXjj, head, a kind of baboons, or animals
with heads like those of dogs, which were wonderfully en¬
dowed, and preserved with great veneration by the Egyp¬
tians in many of their temples. It is related, that by their
assistance the Egyptians found out the particular periods
of the sun and moon ; that one half of the animal was often
buried, whilst the other half survived; and that they could
both read and write. This strange story, or fable, Mr Bryant
imagines, relates to the priests of Egypt, to the novices in
their temples, and to the examinations which they were
obliged to undergo before they could be admitted to the
priesthood. The death of one part, whilst the other sur¬
vived, is understood to have denoted the regular succes¬
sion of the Egyptian priesthood. The cynocephali are also
found in India and other parts of the world.
CUNODONTES, or Cynodontes, a people mentioned
by Solinus and Isidorus, and by them supposed to have had
teeth like dogs. They were probably so denominated from
the object of their worship, the deity Khan-Adon, which
the Greeks wrote Kuvtduv, and thence called his votaries
Cynodontes.
CUPAR, a royal burgh of Scotland, and capital of the
county of Fife, is pleasantly situated on the left bank of
the Eden, at the distance of ten miles west of St Andrews,
and twenty-two miles north-east of Kinghorn. It is a place
ot considerable antiquity, but in the present day it pos¬
sesses all the appearance of a modern thriving town, and
has less of the usual aspect of a royal burgh than any
other town of the same magnitude which bears that ap¬
pellation. At an early period the Macduff family had a
castle here; and under its protection they founded and
supported a convent of dominicans or black friars, which
i was afterwards attached to the religious establishment at
StMonans. All vestiges of these edifices are now however
gone. The situation of the town is well chosen. It lies
on a slight elevation, in a secluded vale, open to the east
and west, and overhung on the south by a range of hilly
ground. The town is composed of one principal and rather
long street, running from west to east, which communi¬
cates with the Kinross road, and another street projected
from the south side of this, near its east end, which com-
municates with the road to Edinburgh by means of a
bridge which crosses the Eden. The centre of the town
is at the junction of these thoroughfares, both of which
are lined with good houses of from one to three stories in
height. East from the junction of the streets is a short street
< called St Catherine Street, composed of very elegant mo¬
dem edifices. On the south side are the county buildings,
a large tontine, and some public offices and private build-
lngs. On the opposite side stands an episcopal chapel, and
cup 549
nearly in the centre of the town is situated the parish
church, a very plain building. This is relieved, however,
y a fine old turret or spire, the only remaining portion of
the old Gothic church, which was built in 1415. The best
public building in the town is the county jail, which is
built in a neat Grecian style. 1 he chief trade of Cupar con¬
sists m the weaving of linens. There are also manufactories
ot leather, candles, ropes, bricks, and tiles, with several
breweries and corn and fulling mills. There are eight an¬
nual fairs, and a weekly market is held every Thursday. Cu¬
par and the adjoining district support a weekly newspaper.
As a roypl burgh, Cupar is governed by a provost, three
bailies, and a dean of guild, with a treasurer and twenty-
one councillors. Besides the parish church, there are se¬
veral dissenting meeting houses. The population of the
burgh and parish, in 1821, amounted to 5892, and in 1831
to 6473.
Cupar-Angus, a town of Scotland, lying partly in the
county of Perth, and partly in that of Forfar, is pleasant¬
ly situated to the south of the Isla, a few miles above its
junction with the day, at the distance of twelve and a
half miles east by north of Perth. A rivulet tributary to
the Isla runs through the town, and that part which lies
to the south of this stream is all that belongs to the coun¬
ty of Angus.^ In ancient times this place was noted for
an abbey of Cistertian monks, which was founded by Mal¬
colm IV. in the year 1164. Ihis building was destroyed at
the reformation, but a fragment of the ruins overgrown
with ivy still remains. Cupar-Angus is a well-built little
town. I he church, which stands on the Angus side, is a
very plain byilding, and there is a steeple detached from
it, which comprises a sort of town-house and jail. The
trade of the town consists of the manufacture of linen, and
the tanning of leather, and in the vicinity there are several
bleachfields. Besides the parish church, there are two dis¬
senting meeting houses and an episcopal chapel. The
population of the town and parish amounted, in 1821, to
2622, and in 1831 to 2615.
CUPEL, in Metallurgy. See Metallurgy.
CUPELLATION. See Metallurgy.
CUPID, in Pagan mythology, the god of love. There
seems to have been two Cupids; one the son of Jupiter
and Venus, whose delight it was to raise sentiments of love
and virtue; and the other the son of Mars and the same
goddess, who inspired wanton and impure desires. The
first of these, called Eros, or true love, carried golden ar¬
rows, which caused real joy, and a virtuous affection; the
other, called Anteros, had leaden arrows, which raised a
passion founded only on desire, and which ended in sa¬
tiety and disgust. Cupid was always drawn with wings, to
represent his inconstancy, and in a state of nudity, to show
that he had nothing of his own. Fie was painted blind, to
denote that love sees no fault in the object beloved; and
with a bow and quiver of arrows, to denote his power over
the mind. Sometimes he was placed between Hercules and
Mercury, to show the prevalence of eloquence and valour
in love ; sometimes he was placed near Fortune, to signify
that the success of lovers depends on that inconstant god¬
dess. He was also represented with a helmet on his head
and with a spear on his shoulder, to indicate that love dis¬
arms the fiercest men; and as riding upon the backs of
panthers and lions, and using their manes for a bridle, to
denote that love tames the most savage beasts. He was
likewise pictured riding upon a dolphin, to signify that his
empire extends over the sea as well as the land.
CUPOLA, in Architecture, Vi spherical vault, or the round
top of the dome of a church, in the form of a cup inverted.
CUPPERTOOL, a populous town of Hindustan, in the
province of Lahore, situated on a sandy plain. Long. 74.
2. E. Lat. 30. 32. N.
Cupar-
Angus
Cupper-
tool.
550
Cupping
I!
Curcas.
CUR
CUPPING, in Surgery, the operation of applying cup¬
ping-glasses for the discharge of blood and other humours
by the skin. See Surgery.
CURACAO, an island in the Carribbean Sea, about
seventy-five miles from the continent of South America.
This island is about thirty miles long and ten broad. 1
is not generally fertile, but sugar and tobacco are pro u-
ced, and large and small cattle are reared. It has several
good ports, particularly one on the southern coast, caiie
St Barbara, where a great trade was formeily carne on
by the Dutch in African slaves. The principal towns are
Curacao and Williamstadt. The former is well situated,
and elegantly built. It is full of storehouses, and provided
with every species of merchandise. Wilhamstadt is con¬
sidered as the capital. , pu
CURATE, the lowest grade in the church of England, be
who represents the incumbent of a church, whether parson
or vicar, and performs divine service in his stead. In case of
pluralities of livings, or where a clergyman is old and in¬
firm, it is requisite there should be a curate to perform the
cure of the church. He is to be licensed, and admitted by
the bishop of the diocese, or by an ordinary having epis¬
copal jurisdiction ; and when a curate has the approbation
of the bishop, the latter usually appoints the salary too.
In such case, if he be not paid, the curate has a proper
remedy in the ecclesiastical court, by a sequestration o
the profits of the benefice; but if the curate be not li¬
censed by the bishop, he is put to his remedy at common
law, where of course he must prove the agreement. A
' curate having no fixed estate in his curacy, from not be¬
ing instituted and inducted, may be removed at pleasure
by the bishop or incumbent. But there are perpetual cu¬
rates as well as temporary, who are appointed where the
tithes are impropriated, and no vicarage endowed. Ihese
are not removeable, and the impropriators are obligei to
find them. Some of them have certain portions of the
tithes settled on them. Every clergyman who officiates
in a church, whether as incumbent or substitute, is cal ■
ed a curate in the liturgy. Curates must subsciibe the
declaration according to the act of uniformity, or they are
liable to imprisonment and other penalties.
CURATOR, among the Romans, an officer under the
emperors, who regulated the price of all kinds of merchan¬
dise and vendible commodities in the cities of the empiie.
They had likewise the superintendence of the customs and
tributes; and hence they were also called
Curator of an University, in the United Provinces,
the holder of an elective office, to which belongs the direc¬
tion of the affairs of the university; as, the administra¬
tion of the revenues, the inspection of the professors, and
the like. The curators are chosen by the states of each
province.
CURB, in the manege, a chain of iron made fast to the
upper part of the branches of the bridle, in a hole called
the eye, and running under the horse’s beard. It consists
of three parts; the hook fixed to the eye of the branch,
the chain of links, and the two rings or mailes. A large
curb, provided it be round, is always most gentle; but care
must be taken that it rest in its proper place, otherwise the
bit-mouth will not have the effect that may be expected
from it.
CURCAS, a name given in Egypt to an esculent root,
approaching in taste and virtues to the colocasia. T-his
is also a name given in Malabar to a small fruit of the
shape and size of a hazel nut. It is very probable that
the curcas of the East Indies may be the fruit called bell
by Avicenna, and said to possess the same virtues. Gia-
cias has been led into an error by this similarity of names
and virtues, and supposes the curcas of Egypt the same
with that of the East Indies.
CUR
CURDLING, the coagulating or fixing any fluid body,
particularly milk. See Dairy.
CURETES, in Antiquity, a sort of priests or people of
the isle of Crete, called also Corybantes. The Curetes are
said to have been originally inhabitants of Mount Ida in
Phrygia, for which reason they were also called iefoiDac-
tyli. Lucian and Diodorus Siculus represent them as very
expert in the throwing of darts, though other authors pro¬
vide them with no weapons except bucklers and pikes; but
all agree in furnishing them with tabors and castanettas,
and relate that they used to dance much to the noise and
clashing of these instruments. By this noise, it is said, they
prevented Saturn from hearing the cries of young Jupiter,
whereby he was saved from destruction. Some authors,
however, give a different account of the Curetes. Accord¬
ing to Pezron and others, the Curetes were, in the times of
Saturn, and in the countries of Crete and Phrygia, what
the druids were afterwards among the Gauls and Britons;
namely, priests who had the care of all that i elated to re¬
ligion and the worship of the gods. Hence, as in those
days it was supposed that there was no communication
with the gods but by means of divinations, auguries, and
the operations of magic, the Curetes passed for magi¬
cians and enchanters; and as to these accomplishments
they added the study of the stars, of nature, and of
poetry, so they were philosophers, astronomers, and poets.
Vossius (DeIdolat.) distinguishes three kinds of Curetes;
those of iEtolia, those of Phrygia, and those of Crete,
who were originally derived from the Phrygians. The first,
he says, took their name from xou^a, tonsure, because, from
the time of a combat in which the enemy seized their
long hair, they always kept it cut. But those of Phrygia
and Crete, he supposes,'were so called from young
man, because they were young, or because they nursed
Jupiter when he was .young.
CURFEU, Curfew, Courfew, or Couvre-feu, a sig¬
nal given in cities taken in war, for the inhabitants to go
to bed. Pasquin says it was so called from being intend¬
ed to advertise the people to secure themselves against the
robberies and debaucheries of the night.
CuRFEW-i?e//, in French couvre-feu, and in the law Latin
of the middle ages, ignitegium, or pyritegium, wasa signalfor
all persons to extinguish their fires. The most remarkable
curfew in England was that established by William the
Conqueror, who ordained, under severe penalties, that, at
the ringing of the bell at eight o’clock in the evening, all
lights and fires should be put out, and every one should
go to bed; and hence to this day a bell rung about the
time in question is called a curfew-bell. This law was abo¬
lished by Henry I. in 1100.
The practice in question was highly necessary to pre¬
vent accidents in those ages when the fires were placed in
a hole in the middle of the floor, under an opening in the
roof to allow the escape of the smoke. This hole was co¬
vered up when the family went to bed. The same prac¬
tice still exists in some countries, particularly in cer¬
tain parts of Scotland. But besides securing houses
against accidents by fire, the law, so generally establish¬
ed in England for extinguishing or covering fires, was pro¬
bably meant also to check the turbulence which frequent¬
ly prevailed in the middle ages, by forcing the people to
retire to rest, or to keep within doors. From this ancient
practice has arisen a custom in Lower Saxony, of people,
when they wish to go home sooner than the company
choose to separate, saying that they hear the burgerglocke,
the burgher’s bell. . „ , , - , •
The ringing of the prayer bell, as it is called, which
still practised in some Protestant countries, originate in
that of the curfew-bell. Pope John XXXIII-dreading n
misfortunes were about to befal him, ordered every pers
CUR
Cu¬
ll
on hearing the ignitegium to repeat the Ave Maria three
times, with a view to avert them. When the appearance of a
comet, and a dread of the Turks, alarmed all Christendom,
Pope Calixtus VIII. increased these periodical times of
prayer, by ordering the prayer-bell to be also rung at the
hour of noon.
CURIA, in Roman antiquity, was used for the senate-
house. There were several curiae in Rome, as the Curia
Calabra, said to be built by Romulus; the Curia Hostilia,
by Tullus Hostilius; and the Curia Pompcia, by Pompey
the Great.
Curia also denoted the places where the curia, or pa¬
rish, used to assemble. Each of the thirty curiae of an¬
cient Rome had a temple or chapel assigned to it for the
common performance of sacrifices, and other offices of re¬
ligion, so that the curiae were not unlike our parishes. Some
remains of these little temples seem to have subsisted
for many ages on the Palatine hill, where Romulus first
built the city, and afterwards resided.
Curia, among the Romans, also denoted a portion or
division of a tribe. In the time of Romulus, a tribe con¬
sisted of ten curiae, or a thousand men ; each curia being
one hundred. The first division of his people made by that
legislator w'as into thirty curiae. But afterwards curia, or
domus curialis, came to be used for the place where each
curia held its assemblies. Hence curia passed to the se¬
nate-house; and hence also the moderns came to use the
word cwn'a for a place of justice, and the judges therein
assembled.
CURIATII, three brothers of Alba, who maintained the
interest of their country against the Romans, when the
latter had declared war against those of Alba. The two
armies being equal, three brothers on each side were cho¬
sen to decide the contest, the Curiatii by the people of
Alba, and the Horatii by the Romans. The first three
were wounded, and two of the latter killed; but the third
joining policy to valour, feigned to run away ; and having
thus separated the Curiatii, he took them one after ano¬
ther, and killed all three.
CURIO, the chief and priest of a curia. Romulus, upon
dividing the people into curue, gave each division a chief,
who was to act priest of that curia, under the title of curio
and flamen curialis. His business was to provide and of¬
ficiate at the sacrifices of the curia, which were called cu-
rionia; and the curia furnished him with a sum of money
on this account, which pension or appointment was call¬
ed curionium. Each division had the election of its curio;
but all the particular curiones were under the direction of
a superior or general, called curio maximus, who was the
head of the body, and elected by all the curiones assem¬
bled in the comitia curialis.
According to Dionysius of Halicarnassus, all the insti¬
tutions were introduced by Romulus, and confirmed by
Numa.
CURIOSUS, an officer of the Roman empire during the
lower age, appointed to take care that no frauds or irre¬
gularities were committed, particularly in what related to
the posts, the roads, &c. and to give intelligence to the
court of what passed in the provinces. This rendered the
Curiosi people of importance, and put them in a condition
to do more harm than they prevented ; for which reason
Honorius cashiered them, in the year 415.
dhe Curiosi nearly resembled what we call controllers.
They had their name from cura, care, quod curis agendiset
evectionibus cursus publici inspiciendis operam darent.
CURLEW. See Ornithology.
CURMI, a name given by the ancients to a sort of malt
liquor or ale. It was made of barley, and, according to
the account of Dioscorides, was drunk by the people of
wany nations instead of wine. He accuses it of causing
CUR 551
pains in the head, generating bad juices, and disordering Curnock
the nervous system ; and he also says, that in the western I!
part of Iberia, and in Britain, such a sort of liquor was in ^urran*
his time prepared from wheat instead of barley. 1 *
CURNOCK, a measure of corn, containing four bushels,
or half a quarter.
CURRAH, a district of Hindustan, in the province of
Allahabad. It has a fertde soil, which, when well watered,
yields all sorts of grain, also sugar-cane, cotton, tobacco’,
and a species of earth impregnated with alkali, which is
used as soap. Its capital is of the same name; it is situ¬
ated on the south-western bank of the Ganges, and extends
above a mile on the bank of the river, and about half a mile
inland. On the banks of the Ganges, and in the middle of
the town, stands an old fort, in the vicinity of which are
several Hindu temples. The governor of the province for¬
merly resided at Currah; but being removed by the Em¬
peror Acbar, the town has since decayed. It is forty-
five miles north-west from Allahabad. Long. 81. 24. E.
Lat. 25. 41. N.
CURRAN, John Philpot, a celebrated Irish advocate
and orator, was born at Newmarket, near Cork, in the year
1750. He received his education at Trinity College, Dublin,
after which he went to London, and studied at one of the
inns of court. In due time he was called to the bar; and
shortly afterwards he married Miss O’Dell, an Irish lady
of a very respectable family. His talents soon rendered
him conspicuous, and during the Duke of Portland’s ad¬
ministration he received a silk gown. In 1784 he was
chosen a member of the Irish House of Commons, where
his abilities were advantageously employed; and he gra¬
dually rose to be the most popular advocate of his age and
country. The distracted state of Ireland towards the close
of the last century gave frequent opportunities for the dis¬
play of Curran’s forensic powers ; and he was often called
upon to defend persons accused of political offences. Mr
Fitzgibbon, afterwards Lord Clare, but at that period attor¬
ney-general, was his opponent ; and from being brought
so frequently into collision with each other, their pro¬
fessional rivalry at last degenerated into personal animo¬
sity, which was finally consummated in a bloodless duel.
On a change of ministry, during the vice-royalty of the
Duke of Bedford, the patriotism of Curran was rewarded
with the situation of master of the rolls. This situation he
held till 1814, when he resigned it, and obtained a com¬
pensation of L.3000 a year. With this he retired to Eng¬
land, and resided chiefly in the neighbourhood of London
till his death, which took place at Brompton, on the 13th
November 1817. Curran’s talents were of a very high
order. His wit, drollery, and pathos were alike remarka¬
ble. If the expression may be used, the character of his
eloquence was peculiarly Irish. It was replete with bold
and striking metaphor, and went more to interest the feel¬
ings by its irresistible appeals, than to convince the judg¬
ment by its closely reasoned deductions. It was the lan¬
guage of fearless and impassioned genius. And this was
just the kind of eloquence that was wanted in the cases
upon which he was employed, and among the people be¬
fore whom he pleaded. If it be the test of supreme ge¬
nius to produce strong emotions, some of Curran’s speeches
may be placed amongst the noblest efforts of forensic skill
which modern times can boast of. Even after the lapse
of half a century, when the circumstances which called
them forth have begun to fade into dimness and distance,
they cannot be perused without rousing the feelings to
the highest pitch.
As a companion, he could be exceedingly agreeable;
and his conversation was often highly fascinating. In his
domestic relations he was very unfortunate; and it seems
that he laid himself open to censure. Curran does not
CUR
appear to have committed any thing to the press; but
some poetical effusions published in his memoirs possess
considerable merit. In 1805 there appeared an unautho¬
rized collection of his forensic speeches, in one volume Svo.
Memoirs of his life have been published by his son, Mr
Charles Phillips, and Mr O’Regan. .
CURRANS, or Currants, the fruit of a species ot
grossularia.
CURRENCY. See Money.
CURRENT, or Currant, a term used to express tne
present time. With regard to commerce, the price cur¬
rent of any merchandise is the known and ordinary price
which is given for it. The term is also used for any thing
which has course, or is received in commerce; in which
sense we say, current coin, current wages, and the 11 e.
Current, in Navigation, a certain progressive move¬
ment of the water of the sea, by which all bodies floating
therein are compelled to alter their course or velocity, or
both, and submit to the laws imposed on them by the
In the sea, currents are either natural and general, aris-
inp- from the diurnal rotation of the earth about its axis,
or accidental and particular, caused by the waters being
driven against promontories, or into gulfs and straits, where,
wanting room to spread, they are driven back, and thus
disturb the ordinary flux of the sea. Currents are various,
and directed towards different parts of the ocean; and some
are constant, while others are periodical. The most ex¬
traordinary current of the sea is that by which pait of t le
Atlantic or African Ocean moves about Guinea from Cape
Verd towards the curvature or Bay of Africa, which is
called Fernando Po, namely, from w^est to east, contrary to
the general motion ; and such is the force of this current,
that when ships approach too near the shore, it carries
them violently towards the bay, and deceives the ™^1‘
ners in their reckoning. There are a great variety of slutt-
ing currents, which do not last, but return at certain pe¬
riods ; most of these, however, depend upon and follow the
anniversary winds or monsoons, which, by blowing in one
place, may cause a current in another. Varenius informs
us, that at Java, in the Straits of Sunda, when the mon¬
soons blow from the west, that is, in the month ot May,
the currents set to the eastward, contrary to the general
motion. Between the islands of Celebes and Madura,
when the western monsoons set in, that is, in December,
January, and February, or when the winds blow from the
north-west, or between the north and west, the currents
set to the south-east, or between the south and east. At
Ceylon, from the middle of March till October, the currents
set to the southward, and in the other parts of the yeai
to the northward, because at this time the southern mon¬
soons blow, and at the other times the northern. Between
Cochin-China and Malacca, when the western monsoons
blow, that is, from April to August, the currents set east¬
ward against the general motion ; but the rest of the yeai
they set westward, the monsoon conspiring with the ge¬
neral motion. They run so strongly in these se^s’ tiat
unexperienced sailors mistake them for waves which beat
upon the rocks, and are usuallyknown by the name of break¬
ers In like manner, for some months after the middle
of February, the currents set from the Maldives towards
India on the east, against the general motion of the sea.
On the shore of China and Cambodia, m the months ot
October, November, and December, the currents set to
the north-west, and from January to the south -west, when
they run with such rapidity about the shoals of I arcel,
that they seem swifter than an arrow. At Pulo Condore,
upon the coast of Cambodia, though the monsoons are
shifting, yet the currents set strongly towards the east,
even when they blow to a contrary point. Along the
CUR
coasts of the Bay of Bengal, as far as Cape Romania, at Cun'
the extreme point of* iVIcilnccBj tlie current runs southwcird
in November and December. When the monsoons blow W.
/'-n • _ _ ^ cqo nine ewiftl v -frrtm U>,,1„
from China to Malacca, the sea runs swiftly from Pulo
Cambi to Pulo Condore, on the coast of Cambodia. In
the Bay of Sans Bras, not far from the Cape of Good
Hope, there is a remarkable current, where the sea runs
from east to west to the landward ; and the more vehe¬
mently that it is opposed by winds from a contrary direc¬
tion. The cause is undoubtedly owing to some adja¬
cent shore which is higher than this. In the Straits of
Gibraltar the currents almost constantly drive to the east¬
ward, and carry ships into the Mediterranean; they
are also found to drive the same way into St George’s
Channel.
The setting or progressive motion of the current may
be either (juite down to the bottom, or to a certain deter¬
minate depth. As the knowledge of the direction and
velocity of currents is a very material point in navigation,
it is highly necessary to discover both, in order to ascer¬
tain the ship’s situation and course with as much accuracy
as possible. The most successful method which has been
hitherto practised by mariners for this purpose, is the fol¬
lowing :—A common iron pot, containing four or five gal¬
lons, is suspended by a small rope, fastened to its ear or
handles, so as to hang directly upright, as when placed
upon the fire. This rope, which may be from seventy to
a hundred fathoms in length, being prepared for the ex¬
periment, is coiled in the boat, which is hoisted out of the
ship at a proper opportunity, when there is little or no
wind to ruffle the surface of the sea. _ The pot being then
thrown overboard into the water, and immediately sinking,
the line is slackened till about seventy or eighty fathoms
are run out; after which it is fastened to the boats stern,
by which she is accordingly restrained and rides at an
anchor. The velocity of the current is then easily tried
by the log and half-minute glass, the usual method of dis¬
covering the rate of a ship’s sailing at sea. The course of
the stream is next obtained by the compass provided for
this operation. And having thus found the setting and
drift of the current, it next remains to apply this experi¬
ment to nautical purposes ; for which see the article Na¬
vigation.
Under-Currents are distinct from the upper or appa¬
rent currents, and in different places set or drive a con-
trary way* .
CURRICULUS, in ancient writers, denotes the year or
course of a year. Actum est hoc annorum Dominica mm-
nationis quater quinquagenis et quinquies quints lustns, et
tribus curriculis, that is, in the year 1028; for four times
fifty make two hundred, and five times two hundred make
one thousand; five lustres are twenty-five years, and
three curriculi are three years. _ _
CURRIE, James, M.D., a physician who was an orna¬
ment to his profession, was born of a respectable family m
the south of Scotland. His father was the minister of th
parish of Kirkpatrick Fleming, near Moffat, in Dumfries
shire - and his mother, Jean Boyd, a woman of very su
perior understanding, was descended from the ancient -
mily of Kilmarnock. They had six daughters, and an
sou! the subject of the present arfcle, who was bom M
the 31st of May 1756. Soon after this pe"°d, Mr tame
removed with his family to Middlebie, a paris tj j
in-of which he had been preferred, and where he semen
for the remainder of his life. He had here the misfortune
to lose his wife, who died of a consumption, whilst he
family were yet in early childhood; but the benev
Sons of Miss Christina Duncan, a
Currie, who undertook the management of th^ foJmed
tion, and the care of the household, and wh p
CUR
towards them all the duties of a mother with exemplary
V fidelity, compensated for a loss which, under other cir¬
cumstances, would have been irreparable. Under the fos¬
tering care of this excellent person, young Currie was
trained in the virtues and estimable qualities which ever
formed the distinguishing features of his character.
He entered upon his grammatical education at the pa¬
rochial school of Middlebie ; and was afterwards sent, at
the age of thirteen, to a seminary at Dumfries, then con¬
ducted by Dr Chapman, well known as the author of a
work on education, and under whose superintendence the
school had justly acquired a high reputation. He was for¬
tunate in being admitted as a boarder into the house of
the doctor; and thus, in addition to the usual studies of
the school, had the advantage of his personal instructions
in mathematics and in practical geometry.
The foundations of solid learning having thus been laid,
young Currie wTas taken by his father on a visit to some
friends in Glasgow, where the spectacle of the commercial
activity so strikingly displayed in that flourishing city could
hardly fail to inspire bis sanguine mind with a similar
spirit of adventure ; and, relinquishing his original inten¬
tion of qualifying himself for the medical profession, he
was induced, with the concurrence of his father, to engage
in the service of a company of merchants, who were going
out on a speculation to Virginia. Nothing could possibly
be more unfortunate than this voyage, which happened to
be undertaken at a time when those dissensions that event¬
ually led to the separation of America from England were
on the eve of breaking out, and where the trade between
the two countries became in consequence totally inter¬
rupted. The treatment which Currie met with from the
merchants with whom he was connected, and who proba¬
bly were soured by disappointment, was harsh and unge¬
nerous ; and he had also to struggle with a long and dan¬
gerous illness which seized him soon after his arrival. To
complete the series of his misfortunes, he also at this time
lost his father, whose death at once bereft him of the only
friend in whose counsels he could confide, under the com¬
plicated difficulties of his situation. But such is the spring
inherent in the youthful mind, that the depressing influ¬
ence of those misfortunes which happen at an early period
of life is often merely temporary, and serves eventually to
form a character of energy which no other circumstances
would have called forth. Having formed the determina¬
tion of trusting solely to his own exertions for his subsist¬
ence, he generously divided among his sisters the scanty
inheritance which had fallen to his share. Renouncing
the pursuits of commerce, with which he had been com¬
pletely sickened, he turned his attention to the political
topics which were then the universal subject of interest
in America; and though convinced of the impolitic con¬
duct of the English government towards that country, he
was strenuous in maintaining the right it asserted of tax¬
ing the colonies. So warmly did he espouse its cause,
that he published a series of letters in its defence, in an
American newspaper, under the signature of “ An Old
Man.” These juvenile essays, as far as he was known to
be the author, procured him some reputation, but at the
same time necessarily exposed him to the ill-will of the
adverse party; and he began seriously to think of em¬
bracing some profession which might raise him to that de¬
gree of independence to which he so honourably aspired,
the example and advice of a near relation, Dr Currie of
Richmond, with wdiom he went to reside, decided him in
the choice of the profession of medicine, which, as we
have already mentioned, had been his original destination.
| R was therefore settled that he should go to Edinburgh,
and after taking his degree at that university, that he
should return to Virginia, with a view of practising at
VOL. VII.
R I E.
Richmond; for it was confidently believed that the war
would not be of any long duration.
In puisuance of this plan he quitted America, where he
bad spent veiy unprofitably five years of his life; and as
the wai had by this time precluded'all direct communica¬
tion with England, he proceeded thither by way of the
West Indies; and after a voyage, in which he underwent
many hardships, and was several times in imminent hazard
of his life, arrived in London in 1776. From thence he
repaired to Edinburgh, and immediately began his aca¬
demic studies, which he prosecuted with unremittino-
assiduity and remarkable success till the spring of 1780.
He soon became conspicuous among the students by the
extent of his acquirements, and by the singular acuteness
of his mind; and in particular, he distinguished himself as
a member of the Medical Society. The papers which, ac¬
cording to custom, he contributed, bear the stamp of su¬
perior talents, and are curious, as furnishing proofs that,
even at this early period, his attention had been actively
directed to subjects which he afterwards prosecuted with
so much success, and illustrated by such important prac¬
tical discoveries.
But whatever might be the satisfaction he derived from
the high reputation he was acquiring at the university, the
sense of his own dependence still weighed heavily upon his
mind, and created an anxious wish to possess the means
of supporting himself by some active professional employ¬
ment, which might enable him to relieve his aunt and sis¬
ters from the charge of maintaining him while prosecuting
his studies ; a charge which, though it was afforded with
the utmost cheerfulness, he was sensible must occasion a
serious diminution of their comforts. Obstacles presented
themselves in the way of every scheme that could be de¬
vised ; but he was not to be deterred by difficulties from
the pursuit of an object which he was eagerly bent upon
obtaining; and the army affording the readiest field of
immediate advancement, he procured an introduction to
General Sir William Erskine, who gave him an ensigncy
in his own regiment, with the office of surgeon’s mate.
He himself would have been contented with this humble
station; but his friends encouraged him to aim at a rank
more consonant with his abilities ; and learning that a me¬
dical establishment was intended to be set on foot for the
service of the British army in Jamaica, they advised him
to apply for the appointment of physician or assistant-
physician to the forces. One requisite, however, was in¬
dispensable before he could even appear as candidate for
any office of that kind; namely, his having taken his de¬
gree. But the rules of the University of Edinburgh pre¬
cluded the possibility of his graduating before the ensuing
June, although he had studied the full period necessary
for that purpose. Fearful of missing the present oppor¬
tunity of obtaining so desirable an appointment, and
knowing that no time was to be lost in making application
for it, he hastened to Glasgow, where he without difficul¬
ty procured a degree, after complying with the customary
forms. He now immediately entered upon the arduous
task of soliciting for the office which was the object of bis
ambition ; and after furnishing himself with numerous let¬
ters of recommendation, and most ample and honourable
testimonials from the professors of the university, and the
many friends whom his merit had procured him among his
fellow students, he proceeded to London. There he soon
learned that the appointment, for which he had taken
such pains to qualify himself, was already filled, having
been given to a young Irish physician of considerable
merit, through the interest of Mr Surgeon-General Adair.
Though disappointed in his expectations of succeeding
in the medical staff, he still resolved to pursue his fortune
in the West Indies, and to endeavour to establish himself
4 a
553
Currie.
554
Currie.
CUR
as physician in the island of Jamaica; a plan which, in
case of his failure there, would still admit of his proceed¬
ing to Richmond, where he might ultimately settle, and
have the advantage of being near his friend and kinsman,
who had promised to give him every assistance in the
commencement of his career. Dr Currie had already
taken his passage on board a ship which was expected soon
to sail in company with a numerous fleet. Ihis fleet,
however, happened to be detained for a considerable time,
so that he passed the greater part oi the summer in Lon¬
don, and had thus an opportunity of renewing his ac¬
quaintance with many of his college companions, and or
mixing with the society of the literary men in the metro¬
polis, so well calculated to draw forth, and so capable or
appreciating talent. The superior abilities^ which Dr
Currie possessed were quickly discerned by those around
him; and he was strongly urged to abandon his plan ot
voluntary exile, and to endeavour to foim an establish¬
ment in some town in England, where his exertions might
meet with an adequate reward. With the diffidence
which is usually attendant on real merit, he was disposed
at first to regard the prospects thus held out to him as
little likely to be ever realized ; but the earnestness of his
friends, and their confident representation of the probabi¬
lity of his succeeding, gradually inspired him with more
sanguine views; and a severe illness which attacked him
whilst he was yet deliberating on his future plans, concur¬
red in determining him to relinquish, his design of cross¬
ing the Atlantic. After a long and painful search foi an
eligible situation, during which he encountered many dis¬
appointments, he at length repaired to Liverpool in Octo¬
ber 1780, having learned that a vacancy had occurred in
the profession at that place, in consequence of the remo¬
val of Dr Dobson to Bath.
No choice could be more fortunate for Dr Currie than
that of a town which was so rapidly increasing in opulence
as Liverpool, of which the leading inhabitants were dis¬
tinguished for their enlarged and liberal views, and ■where
the5society afforded the most favourable field for the dis¬
play of those excellent qualities, both of a moral and intel¬
lectual nature, which adorned his character. On his ar¬
rival he was unacquainted with a single individual, but by
means of the introductions which he brought with him, he
soon became known to a great number of respectable fami¬
lies, and ever rose in their esteem and regard in propoi tion
to the intimacy of their acquaintance with him. The sua¬
vity of his address, the elegance and variety of his con¬
versation, the strength and maturity of his judgment,
and the unaffected warmth of his benevolence, could not
fail of producing the most favourable impression on all
who met him in society, and of conciliating the attach¬
ment of those who enjoyed a more familiar intercourse.
His company was soon courted by all who had any relish
for the acquirements of literature, which in him derived a
peculiar charm from the elegance of his taste. Another
talent, the result of a happy union of great natural saga¬
city with quick feelings of sympathy, he possessed in a
remarkable degree,—that of inspiring the confidence and
securing the attachment of his patients. His success was
now no longer doubtful. Gifted with the power of pleas¬
ing, and of commanding respect, his skill was exerted to
the best advantage. He was elected one of the physi¬
cians to the infirmary, and soon rose to high eminence in
his profession. His domestic happiness was in the mean
time secured by his marriage, in 1783, with Miss Lucy
Wallace, a lineal descendant of the Scottish patriot of that
name, and the daughter of a very respectable merchant in
Liverpool.
Amidst the duties of an arduous profession, and the
cares of a new establishment, he found leisure foi the cul-
R I E.
tivation of literature and science, a field peculiarly suited Cur
to the exercise of his active and vigorous mind. Conge-
niality of tastes and dispositions soon led to an intimacy
between him and Mr Roscoe, a name so well known in the
republic of letters ; and, in conjunction with the late Mr
William Rathbone, a gentleman distinguished by the ex-
cellence and high integrity of his character, they laid the
foundations of a literary club, which deserves to be record¬
ed as the first institution of the kind in Liverpool, and as
being the germ of those splendid literary establishments
which have reflected so much lustre on a town where the
liberal and polite arts have flourished in alliance with the
exertions of commerce.
But the progress of Dr Currie, though it had com¬
menced so auspiciously, was unfortunately much retarded
by ill health, which the fatiguing exertions he was occa¬
sionally required to undergo tended considerably to ag¬
gravate. His assiduous and anxious attendance on Dr
Bell, an intimate friend of his who had settled in Man¬
chester, and who had been seized with a fatal disorder,
together with the frequent journeys which he was in conse- i
quence under the necessity of taking, in the midst of winter,
generally at night, and in addition to his other professional
labours, brought on a violent peripneumony, and placed
his life for some time in imminent danger. This was fol¬
lowed by a train of pulmonary symptoms, which occurring
in a frame already predisposed to consumption, a disease
that had been very fatal in his family, were of a highly
alarming nature. Experiencing, however, the good effects
of carriage exercise, in mitigating, and even preventing, |
the paroxysms of hectic fever, he determined upon under-
taking a journey of some length ; and the climate of Bris¬
tol being in repute for pulmonary complaints, he set out
for that°place in the middle of April, and, travelling by
easy stages, arrived at the beginning of May. During the
greater part of his journey his cough was severe, and he
was obliged, in general, to lie at length in the diagonal of
the coach. The returns of hectic were, however, render¬
ed, by this mode of exercise, less regular and distinct than
they had been. At Bristol he experienced the shock of
witnessing the death of one of his sisters. She had been
lingering under the same fatal disorder, which a year be¬
fore had carried off another sister in her seventeenth year,
and which had by that time attacked a third sister, whose
life, as well as his own, there appeared little probability
of preserving. Deriving no benefit from a residence of a
month at Bristol, he resolved to try the drier air of an
inland situation, and set out for Matlock, in Deibyshiie. i
But here again his expectations of relief were disappoint¬
ed, and it appeared on reflection, that continued exercise
alone was capable of affording him any durable advantage.
The hopes of bidding adieu to his yet surviving sister, who
was hastening rapidly to the grave, conspired with this
motive for travelling ; and he again set out, directing his
course towards Scotland. The salutary influence of mo¬
tion now became more evident; and when he reached
Dumfriesshire his strength was so far recruited as toal-
low of his sitting on horseback for an hour together. But
the hope which had prompted his revisiting his native
land was cruelly disappointed ; for, on the day on which
he reached the end of his journey, the remains or his sis¬
ter had been committed to the grave. His fortitude,
however, did not forsake him, although so many victims
to the disorder under which he laboured impressed him
strongly with the conviction that he himself was soon to
experience a similar fate. He persevered in taking exer¬
cise on horseback during a few weeks that he resided a
Moffat, gradually increasing the length of his rides m
proportion as his strength improved. As the progress
disease and debility seemed to be arrested, the hope an
CUR
Cur
the love of life revived, and returning on horseback to
Lancashire, by the lakes of Cumberland, be arrived at
Liverpool on the 1st of September, having rode the last
day of bis journey forty miles. A very interesting narra¬
tive of his case, and the means which he employed for his
recovery, was drawn up by himself, and is given by Dr
Darwin in the second volume of his Zoonomia.
The first occupation to which he applied himself during
his convalescence, was prompted by a desire to do honour
to the memory of his deceased friend Dr Bell. At the
request of the members of the Literary and Philosophical
Society of Manchester, he undertook a translation of the
inaugural dissertation of Dr Bell, li'De Physiologia Plan-
tarum,” which he accompanied with valuable notes, and to
which he prefixed memoirs of the author’s life. These were
published by the society in the second volume of their
Transactions. The biographical sketch which he has there
given, and which was the first acknowledged production
of his pen, is drawn up in a style of peculiar neatness and
elegance, and procured him considerable reputation as a
writer. The delineation of the character of Dr Bell, in
particular, which forms the concluding part of his memoir,
is executed with a bold and masterly hand, and evinces a
profound knowledge of the human heart. The failings as
well as the merits of his friend are traced with a delicate
yet faithful pencil, exhibiting a model of that manly can¬
dour, which seeks not to extenuate faults by disguising their
extent, or concealing their pernicious tendency, but in¬
structs us in the sources from which they spring, the good
qualities to which they are allied, and the virtues with
which they may be associated.
On being elected a member of the London Medical
Society in 1790, he communicated to it an essay on Teta¬
nus and Convulsive Disorders, which was published in
the third volume of its Transactions. In 1791 he pre¬
sented to the Royal Society a paper containing An ac¬
count of the remarkable effects of a shipwreck on the mari¬
ners, with experiments and observations on the influence of.
immersion in fresh and salt ivater, hot and cold, on the
powers of the living body, which appeared in the Philosophi¬
cal Transactions of the same year; and soon afterwards he
was elected a fellow of the Royal Society. The inquiries
which form the subject of this memoir were but a part of
a long series of investigations, in which he had been en¬
gaged for a considerable period, and which had occupied
him even when he was a student at the university. With
a keenness of observation peculiar to himself, we find him
intent on the collection of all the facts which bore upon the
subject, and of which his sagacity made him readily per¬
ceive the application. Imbued with the genuine spirit of
inductive philosophy, we find him proceeding with the
caution of a true disciple of Bacon, theorizing only when
a sufficient foundation had been laid for general deduc¬
tions by an accurate and extensive observation of facts.
The more mature results of his experience and reflections
were given to the world in 1797, under the title of Me¬
dical Reports on the effects of water, cold and warm, as a
remedy in Fever and other Diseases, ivhether applied to the
surface of the body or used internally ; a work by which
his reputation as a physician was widely extended, and
which has effected a considerable revolution in the mode
of treating the most frequent and fatal of diseases. Few
works, indeed, so strictly medical, have met with so great
a number of readers out of the profession ; in few do we
find united, in such perfection, the graces of literature
with the severity of philosophical research. Dr Currie’s
talent is particularly conspicuous in his recital of the his¬
tory of cases which fell under his observation. He places
every circumstance deserving attention in so clear a light,
and intersperses, his own reflections with such judgment
R I E.
555
and effect, that we enter into all his reasonings without Currie,
effort, and follow him through the minute details of symp-
toms and ol medical practice, not merely without fatigue,
but with a strong and increasing interest. The limits of
the present article will not admit of our entering into any
exposition of the contents of this valuable work, the fruit
of so much experience and profound reflection; far less
of tracing the progress of his discoveries through all the
generalizations which they received from his penetrating
and comprehensive mind. It may be sufficient to observe,
that it will ever be held as a model of philosophical induc¬
tion, in a science where the application of such a method
is attended with peculiar difficulties; and that it has ef¬
fected a very important improvement in the treatment of
febrile disorders, which are amongst the most universally
prevalent, and the most destructive to human life. The
healing art is eminently indebted to Dr Currie, for esta¬
blishing on solid grounds the salutary agency of cold ap¬
plied to the surface of the body, under certain circum¬
stances, and in certain modes, both in fevers and in many
convulsive diseases. The practice of the cold affusion of
water, or, in other cases, of cooling and moistening the
skin by means of a wet sponge, has, indeed, been attend¬
ed with extraordinary success; and although it had al¬
ready been suggested, and even tried, by Dr Wright, it
was reserved for Dr Currie to determine the circumstances
which render its employment safe and salutary, and to
point out the nature of its operation, on clear and rational
principles.
We have already seen the interest he took in the party
discussions which agitated the public in America at the
commencement of its alienation from England, and can¬
not, therefore, be surprised at the earnestness with which
he viewed the political concerns of his own country at so
eventful a period of its history. The first occasion on
which he again obeyed the impulse of his feelings by the
publication of his sentiments, was during his residence in
London, on the occurrence of the disgraceful riots in St
George’s Fields, excited by religious fanaticism, and the
cry of No Popery raised by Lord George Gordon. He
wrote three letters on the subject in the Public Advertiser,
under the signature of Caius: they were afterwards re¬
published in a collection of political tracts. These, as well
as his writings in America, show that his earlier views of
politics were conformable to the principles of theTory party,
in favour of which his education had given him an early bias.
But in proportion as his experience of the world increased,
and his judgment acquired strength and maturity, his soli¬
citude for preserving the authority of those intrusted with
power, which, in these seasons of turbulence, seemed to
be chiefly threatened, gave’place to a deeper feeling of
anxiety for the interests of the community at large, on
whom that power is exercised; and which, from the pre¬
judices and passions inspired by the course of events, and
the war of anger into which we had recently been plun¬
ged, appeared to him to be exposed to much greater dan¬
ger. These sentiments were strongly expressed in his
Letter, Commercial and Political, addressed to the Right
Honourable William Pitt, which he published under the
assumed name of Jasper Wilson. The mass of important
information contained in this pamphlet, the enlarged and
profound views of political economy which it presented,
and the nervous and manly strain of eloquence in which
they were enforced, attracted much attention; it was
read with avidity, and quickly went through several edi¬
tions. The name of its real author, although never pub¬
licly acknowledged by himself, could not long remain con¬
cealed ; and the reputation which accrued to Dr Currie
from this publication, in a limited circle of enlightened
men, was gained at the expense of much odium, which it
556
Currie.
CUR
entailed upon him from the opposite, and unhappily more
numerous party. A host of enemies, indeed, appeared in
arms against him, and he was assailed in various quarters
with the coarsest and most illiberal abuse. One writer
amongst the number, apparently with the intention of do¬
ing him irreparable injury, took the unwarrantable license
of proclaiming him by name as the author, and used all
his endeavours to provoke him to reply. But Dr Currie
bore all the violence and malignity of these attacks with
perfect evenness of temper,.and abstained from gratifying
his enemies, by engaging in a controversy which he knew
must be attended with certain detriment to his profession¬
al interests, whilst it could add but little to the foice o
what he had already published. .
During an excursion which he made into Scotland in
1792, he had become personally acquainted with Kobert
Burns, whom it was impossible to know without being as¬
tonished at the glow of fancy, and fascinated by the social
powers, displayed by that brilliant and. extraordinary ge¬
nius. Dr Currie became an enthusiastic admirer of those
productions of his rustic muse which breathe the true
spirit of poetry, and will immortalize the dialect in which
they are conveyed. The family of this unfortunate man
having been left nearly destitute at his death, a subscrip¬
tion was set on foot in Scotland for their relief, and a de¬
sign was formed of publishing a complete edition of his
works, for their exclusive benefit. Knowing the warm in¬
terest which Dr Currie had taken in his fate, he wras stiong-
ly solicited by Mr Syme of Ryedale, an old and intimate
friend of the doctor’s, to undertake the office of editor
and biographer on this occasion, as being the peison in
every respect best qualified for such a task. The re¬
quest was urged from so many quarters, that Dr Cuirie,
however reluctant he felt to engage in a work to the exe¬
cution of which his multiplied avocations would prove a
serious obstacle, at length yielded to the opinion of his
friends, and to his own benevolent wishes in behalf of a dis¬
tressed and deserving family. Accordingly, in 1800, ap¬
peared, in four volumes 8vo, his edition of The Works
of Robert Burns, with an Account of his Life, and Criti¬
cisms on his Writings ; to which are prefixed, some Obser¬
vations on the Character and Condition oj the Scottish 1 eci-
santry. It is sufficient to say that they fully equalled.the
high expectations which had been formed of them.. I he
preliminary observations, from the pen of Dr Cuirie, are
marked with his usual felicity of manner, and exhibit the
same sagacity of remark, and liberality of sentiment, which
pervade all his writings. Dr Currie had also the still
higher satisfaction of succeeding in the object at which he
had aimed, namely, that of securing, by his labours, a pro¬
vision for the widow and children of the poet, to whose
genius he was raising the monument it so well deserved.
& His constitution had never completely recovered from
the shock of the severe illness which he had suffered in
1784. He was seldom long free from threatenings of a
return; but it was not till the year 1804 that his health
began evidently to decline. Notwithstanding he sought
relaxation by revisiting his native country, and enjoying
the scenes where he had passed his early youth, the alarm¬
ing symptoms re-appeared on his return home, and he
found it necessary in the autumn to retire from the fa¬
tigues of his profession, and quit the climate of Liverpool,
where his loss, as may be well conceived, excited deep
and universal regret. He spent the ensuing winter alter¬
nately at Clifton and Bath, and in March felt himself so
much recovered that he ventured to take a house in Bath
and recommence the labours of his profession. Trom the
extent to which his practice very soon increased, there, is
no doubt that he would have been eminently successful,
if his convalescence had been permanent. But all his
CUR
complaints returning with new violence, he went, as a last Curri,.
resource, to Sidmouth, where, after much suffering, which |
he bore with manly fortitude and resignation, he expired Cumi;
on the 31st of August, in the fiftieth year of his age. His
disease was ascertained to be an enlargement and flaccidi-
ty of the heart, accompanied with a remarkable wasting of
the left lung, without either tubercle or ulceration. Few
men possessed a more amiable or estimable character, or
a more enlarged and cultivated mind, than Dr Currie. His
kind and affectionate disposition was conspicuous in all
the relations of social and domestic life, and endeared him
to all around. As far as his influence extended, few men
have exerted more active and judicious benevolence, or
diffused more important benefits. Most of the public in¬
stitutions, literary and benevolent, of which Liverpool can
boast, were suggested, improved, or perfected by his ad¬
vice and assistance. His political views were guided always
by a pure, and latterly by an enlightened patriotism. His
professional labours and discoveries are such as entitle
him to an elevated rank among medical philosophers;
whilst the important improvement that has resulted from
them in the healing art, justifies us in enrolling his name
amongst the distinguished benefactors of mankind, (y.)
CURRIERS, those who dress and colour leather after
it comes from the tan-yard. See Tanning.
CURRODREPANUS, compounded of cwmis,a chariot,
and dgirfuvov, a scythe or sickle, in antiquity7, a kind of cha¬
riot armed with scythes. The driver of a chariot of this
kind was obliged to ride on one of the horses, as there
was no other seat for him; the usual place for the cha¬
rioteer being armed with knives, as was likewise the hin¬
der part of the chariot. There were no scythes pointing
down to the earth, either from the beam or axle-tree; but
these were fixed at the head of the axle-tree, in such a
manner as to be moveable by means of a rope, and thereby
could be raised or let down, drawn forward or let fall back¬
ward, at pleasure.
CURRYING, the method of preparing leather with oil,
tallow, and other substances. The chief business of cur¬
rying is to soften cow and calf-skins, which form the
upper leathers and quarters of shoes, coverings of saddles,
coaches, and other things intended to exclude water.
These skins, after coming from the tanner’s yard, having
many fleshy fibres on them, the currier soaks them some
time in common water. He then takes them out, stretch¬
es them on a very even wooden horse, and with a paring
knife scrapes off all the superfluous flesh, and puts them
in to be soaked again. He next puts them wet on a
hurdle, and tramples them with his heels till they begin
to grow soft and pliant. He then soaks thereon tiain-oi.I,
which by its unctuous quality is the best liquid for this
purpose; after which he spreads them on large tables,
and fastens them at the ends. Then., with the help o
an instrument called a pummel, which is a thick piece o
wood, the under side of which is full of furrows crossing
each other, he folds, squares, and moves them forwards
and backwards several times, under the teeth of this in
strument, which breaks their too great stiffness. I his is
what is properly called currying. The order and number
of these operations is varied by different curriers, but the
material part of them is always.the same. After the skins
are curried there may7 be occasion to colour them. e
colours are black, white, red, yellow, and green; the other
colours are given by the skinners, who differ from curriers
in this, that they apply their colours on the flesh si e,
whereas the curriers do so on the hair side. In ortler
whiten skins, they are rubbed with lumps of chalk or wn
lead, and afterwards with pumice-stone. When a skin
to be made black, the currier, after having oiledanddrie
it, passes over it a puff dipped in water unpregnated witn
'ursit
II
Cun'
CUR
iron; and after his first wetting, he gives it another in
water prepared with soot, vinegar, and gum-arabic. These
different dyes gradually turn the skin black, and the ope¬
rations are repeated till it be of a shining black. The
grain and wrinkles, which contribute to the suppleness of
calves’ and cows’ leather, are made by the reiterated folds
given to the skin in every direction, and by the care taken
to scrape off all hard parts on the colour side.
CURSITOR, a clerk belonging to the court of chancery,
whose business it is to make out original writs.
CURTAIN, or Courtine, in Fortification, is that part
of the body of a place which joins the flank of one bastion
to that of another.
CURTIUS, Marcus, a Roman youth, who, about 360
years before the Augustan age, devoted himself to the
gods manes for the safety of his country. A wide gap had
suddenly opened in the Forum, and the oracle had declared
that it never would close until Rome threw into it what¬
ever she had that was accounted most precious. Curtius
immediately perceived that no less than a human sacrifice
was required; and having armed himself and mounted his
charger, he plunged into the gulf, which instantly closed
over his head.
Curtius, Quintus, a Latin historian, who wrote the life
of Alexander the Great in ten books, of which the first
two are not indeed extant, but they were so well supplied
by Freinshemius that the loss is scarcely regretted. Where
this writer was born, or when he lived, are points which no
one pretends to know. By his style he is supposed to have
flourished in or near the Augustan age; whilst some ima¬
gine the work to have been composed in Italy about three
centuries ago, and the name of Quintus Curtius to be fic¬
titiously added to it. Cardinal Duperron was so great an
admirer of this work as to declare that one page of it was
worth thirty of Tacitus, a declaration which at least shows
that the cardinal’s judgment was by no means equal to his
admiration. M. le Clerc, at the end of his Art of Criticism,
has charged this writer with great ignorance and many con¬
tradictions. But Curtius has nevertheless many valuable
qualities as a writer, which will always make him read if
not admired.
CURVATURE of a Line, is the peculiar manner of
its bending or flexure, by which it becomes a curve of any
form and properties. Thus the nature of the curvature
of a circle is such as that every point in the periphery is
equally distant from a point within, called the centre;
and hence the curvature of the circle is everywhere the
same. But the curvature in all other curves is continual¬
ly varying.
CURVE, in Geometry, a line which, running on con¬
tinually in all directions, may be cut by a right line in
more points than one.
Curve of Equable Approach. Leibnitz first proposed
to find a curve, down which a body descending by the
force of gravity shall make equal approaches to the hori¬
zon in equal portions of time. This curve, as it has been
found by Bernoulli and others, is the second cubical para¬
bola placed with its vertex uppermost, and which the de¬
scending body must enter with a certain determinate ve¬
locity. The question was rendered general by Varignon
for any law of gravity, by which a body may approach
towards a given point by equal spaces in equal times.
Maupertuis also resolved the problem in the case of a
body descending in a medium, the resistance of which is
as the square of the velocity.
Curves, Algebraical or Geometrical, are those in which
the relation of the abscisses to the ordinates can be ex¬
pressed by a common algebraic equation.
Curves, Transcendental or Mechanical, are those which
cannot be defined or expressed by an algebraic equation.
c u s
557
CURULE Chair, in Roman antiquity, a chair adorn- Curule
ed with ivory, in which the superior magistrates of Rome II
had a right to sit and be carried. Cush*
Ihe curule magistrates were the sediles, the praetors,
the censors, and the consuls. The chair was fitted in a
kind of chariot, whence it had its name. The senators
who had borne the offices of aediles, praetors, censors, or
consuls, were carried to the senate-house in this chair, as
were all those who had triumphed, and such as had been
appointed to administer justice.
CURUMAH, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Bahar, 82 miles south-south-east from Patna. Long 85
43. E. Lat. 24. 29. N.
CURYPUM, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Orissa, possessed by independent rajahs. It is 103 miles
west by north of Ganjam. Long. 83. 47. E. Lat. 19.40. N.
CUliZOLA, an island in the Gulf of Venice, lying on
the coast of Dalmatia. It is about twenty miles long,
and has a small town of the same name, with a bishop’s
see. It now belongs to the Austrians. Long. 17. 15. E.
Lat. 43. 6. N.
CUSA, Nicholas de, a learned cardinal, of mean pa¬
rentage, and so named from Cusa, the place of his birth.
He was made a cardinal in 1448; and being appointed
governor of Rome by Pope Pius II. during his absence at
Mantua, he became the chief author and manager of the
war against the Turks. He founded a church, and a noble
library of Greek and Latin authors, at Cusa; and left
many excellent works, which were collected and publish¬
ed in three volumes at Basil in 1565. In these he made
no scruple to expose the fabulous traditions and the so¬
phistries of the Roman church.
CUSCO, a large and handsome town of South America,
in Peru, formerly the residence of the Incas. It is situat¬
ed at the foot of a mountain, and is built in a square form,
in the middle of which there is the best market in all
America. Four large streets, which are all as straight as a
line, terminate in this square. The Spaniards relate won¬
derful things of the richness of the Inca’s palace, and of
the temple of the sun; but more sober travellers, judging
from what remains, think most of these stories fabulous.
From this town there is a very long road, which runs along
the Cordilleras; and, at certain distances, there are small
houses for resting places, some parts of which are so arti¬
ficially wrought that it is surprising how a people who
had no iron tools could execute such workmanship. There
are streams of water running through the town, which are
a great convenience in so hot a country, where it never
rains. It is 375 miles east of Lima. Long. 71. 47. W.
Lat. 13. 40. S.
CUSH, the eldest son of Ham, and father of Nimrod.
Though we know of no other person in Scripture who is
indicated by this name, yet there are several countries
which are called by it; but whether the same man may
have dwelt in all of them at different times, or whether
there were some other men of this name, we are unable
to say.
The Vulgate, Septuagint, and other interpreters, both
ancient and modern, generally translate Cush, Ethiopia ;
but there are many passages in which this translation can¬
not take place.
Cush is the name of the country watered by the Araxes.
They who, in translating the passage relative to the situa¬
tion of Eden, made Cush Ethiopia, gave rise to the un¬
warrantable opinion which Josephus and several others
have entertained, that the river Gihon was the Nile. Cuth
is the same as Cush; the Chaldees generally putting the
tau where the Hebrews use the schin.
But Ethiopia in the Hebrew is frequently called Cush;
St Jerome tells us that the Hebrews call the Ethiopians
558
Cushion
II
Custom
and Habit
c u s
by this name, and the Seventy gave them no other. Je¬
remiah (xiii. 23) asks, “ can the Cushsean, or Ethiopian,
change his colour ?” In Ezekiel (xxxix. 10) the Lord
threatens to reduce “ Egypt to a desert, from the tower of
Syene even unto the border of Cush or Ethiopiaand in
Isaiah (xi. 11) it is said, “ he will recover the remnant of
his people, which shall be left, from Assyria, and from
Egypt, and Pathros, and from Cush.” All these marks
agree with Ethiopia properly so called, which lies to the
south of Egypt.
Bochart has shown very clearly that there was a coun¬
try called the land of Cush in Arabia Petraia, bordenng
upon Egypt; that this country extended itself principally
along the eastern shore of the Red Sea, and at its extre¬
mity to the point of the sea, inclining towards Egypt and
Palestine*
Thus there are three countries of the name of Cush,
described in Scripture, and all confounded by interpreters
under the general name of Ethiopia. . .
CUSHION, in engraving, is a bag of leather filled with
sand, commonly about nine inches square, and three or
four thick, used for supporting the plate to be engraved.
CUSP (cuspis) properly denotes the point of a spear
or sword ; but it is used in astronomy to express the points
or horns of the moon, or any other luminary.
Cusp, in Astrology, is used for the first point of each
of the twelve houses, in a figure or scheme of the heavens.
CUSPINIAN, John, a German, whose native name was
Speishammer, was born at Sweinfurt in 1473, and died at
Vienna in 1529. He was first physician to the Emperor
Maximilian I. and employed by that prince in several de¬
licate negociations. We have of his, in Latin, 1. A His¬
tory of the Roman emperors from Julius Caesar to the
death of Maximilian I. which Wheare, in his Methodus
Legendce Historice, calls luculentum sane opus, et omnium
lectione dignissimum, 1519, fob; 2. A History of Austria,
being a continuation of the preceding, Basil, 15o3, fol.;
3. A History of the origin of the lurks, and of their
cruelties towards Christians, Antwerp, 1541, 8vo; and
some other works. Gerard Vossius calls Cuspinian mag¬
num suo cevo historice lumen.
CUSTOM, a comprehensive term, denoting the man¬
ners, ceremonies, and fashions of a people, which having
turned into habit, and passed into general use, obtain the
force of laws. In this sense it implies such usages as,
though voluntary at first, have yet by practice become
necessary. .
Custom is hence defined, both by lawyers and civilians,
lex non scripta, a law or right not written, established by
long usage and the consent of our ancestors; in which
sense it stands opposed to the lex scripta, or the written law.
Custom and Habit. In the human economy, the for¬
mer is often confounded with the latter. By custom we
mean a frequent reiteration of the same act; by habit, the
effect which custom produces on the mind or body. This
curious subject falls to be considered first in a moral, and
secondly in a physical light.
I. Influence of Custom and Habit on the Mind. Custom
has such influence upon many of our feelings, by warping
and varying them, that its operations demand the atten¬
tion of all those who desire to become acquainted with
human nature. The subject, however, is intricate. Some
pleasures are fortified by custom ; and yet custom begets
familiarity, and consequently indifference:
c u s
of reiteration. But though custom blunts the edge of dig- Cu™.
tress and of pain, yet the want of any thing to which weMd |j ^
1 1  1 io o enrt- nf tortlirp. A rliio .
If all the year were playing holidays,
To sport would be as tedious as to work :
But when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,
And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.
In many instances, satiety and disgust are the consequences
have been long habituated is a sort of torture. A clue to
guide us through all the intricacies of this labyrinth would
be an acceptable present.
Whatever be the cause, it is certain that we are much
influenced by custom ; it has an effect upon our pleasures,
upon our actions, and even upon our thoughts and senti¬
ments. Habit makes but little figure during the vivacity
of youth ; in middle age it gains ground ; and in old age
it governs without control. At that period of life, general¬
ly speaking, wre eat at a certain hour, take exeicise at a
certain hour, go to rest at a certain hour, all by the direc¬
tion of habit; nay, a particular seat, table, or bed, comes
to be essential; and a habit in any of these cannot be con¬
trolled without uneasiness.
Any slight or moderate pleasure, frequently reiterated
for a long time, forms a peculiar connection between us
and the thing which causes the pleasure. This connection,
termed habit, has the effect of awakening our desire or ap¬
petite for that thing when it returns not as usual. Du¬
ring the course of enjoyment, the pleasure rises insensibly
higher and higher till a habit becomes established, at
which time the pleasure is at its height. It continues not,
however, stationary; the same customary reiteration which
carried it to its height, brings it down again by insensible
degrees, even lower than it w’as at first.
To introduce an active habit, frequency of acts is not
sufficient without length of time. The quickest succession
of acts in a short time is not sufficient, nor a slow succes¬
sion in the longest time. The effect must be produced by
a moderate gentle action, and a long series of easy touches,
removed from each other by short intervals. Nor are
these sufficient without regularity in the time, place, and
other circumstances of the action; for the moie uniform
any operation is, the sooner it becomes habitual. And this
holds equally in a passive habit; variety, in any remark¬
able degree, preventing the effect. I bus any particular
food will scarcely ever become habitual where the manner
of dressing it is varied. The circumstances requisite, then,
to augment a moderate pleasure, and at the long-run to
form a habit, are weak uniform acts, reiterated during a
long tract of time, without any considerable interruption;
and every agreeable cause which operates in^this manner
will grow habitual.
Affection and aversion, as distinguished from passion on
the one hand, and from original disposition on the other,
are in reality habits respecting particular objects, acquir¬
ed in the manner above stated, fhe pleasure of socia
intercourse with any person must originally be faint, and
frequently reiterated, in order to establish the habit ol af¬
fection. Affection thus generated, whether it be friend¬
ship or love, seldom swells into any tumultuous or vigorous
passion ; but it is nevertheless the strongest cement that
can bind together two individuals of the human species.
In like manner, a slight degree of disgust often reiterated
with regularity, grows into the habit of aversion, whicli
commonly subsists for life. _ ..
Objects of taste which are delicious, so far from tending
to become habitual, are apt by indulgence to produce sa¬
tiety and disgust. No man contracts a habit of using sugar,
honey, or sweetmeats, as he does tobacco.
These violent delights have violent ends,
And in their triumphs die. The sweetest honey
Is loathsome in its own deliciousness,
And in the taste confounds the appetite;
Therefore love mod’rately, long love doth so;
Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
The same observation holds with respect to all such ob¬
jects as, being extremely agreeable, raise violent passions,
Custi
udH
CUSTOM AND HABIT
559
which are incompatible with a habit of any kind, and, m ing-place, a certain amusement, or a particular species, Custom
particular, never produce affection nor aversion. SUch as coffee, mutton, or any other food. But habi is and Habit.
It is perhaps not easy to say why moderate pleasures not confined to such. A constant train of trifling diver-
gather strength by custom; but two causes concur to pre- sions may form such a habit in the mind that it cannot be
vent that eftect in the more intense pleasures. These, by easy a moment without amusement. A variety in the ob
an original aw in our nature, increase quickly to their full jects prevents a habit as to any one in particular • but as
growth, and decay with no less precipitation; while cus- the train is uniform with respect to amusement the habit
tom is too slow in its operation to overcome the force of is formed accordingly; and that sort of habit mav be de-
this law. The other cause is not less powerful. Exqui- nominated a generic habit, in opposition to the former
site pleasure is extremely fatiguing, occasioning, as a na- which is a specific habit. The habit of a town life of coun-
turalist would say, great expense of animal spirits; and of try sports, of solitude, of reading, or of business where
this the mind cannot beai so fiequent gratification as to sufficiently varied, are instances of generic habits. Every
superinduce a habit.^ If tlm thing which raises the plea- specific habit has a mixture of the generic; for the habit
of any one sort of food makes the taste agreeable, and we
are fond of that taste wherever it is found.
sure return before the mind has recovered its tone and
relish, disgust ensues instead of pleasure.
A habit never fails to admonish us of the wonted time
of gratification, by raising a feeling for want of the object,
and a desire to have it. The sensation of want is always
first felt; the desire naturally follows ; and upon present¬
ing the object, both vanish instantaneously. Thus a man
accustomed to tobacco feels at the end of the usual inter¬
val a confused sensation of want, which at first points to no¬
thing in particular, though it soon settles upon its accus¬
tomed object. And the same may be observed in persons
addicted to drinking, who are often in an uneasy and rest¬
less state before they think of the bottle. In pleasures in¬
dulged regularly, and at equal intervals, the appetite, re¬
markably obsequious to custom, returns regularly with the
usual time of gratification; but not sooner, even though
the object be presented. This sensation of want arising
from habit seems directly opposite to that of satiety; and
it must appear singular, that frequency of gratification
should produce effects so opposite as the feelings of ex¬
cess and of want.
The appetites which respect the preservation and pro¬
pagation of our species are attended with pain, arising
from a want similar to that occasioned by habit. Hunger
and thirst are uneasy sensations of want, which always
precede the desire of eating and drinking; and a pain for
want of carnal enjoyment precedes the desire of an ob¬
ject. The sensation being thus felt independently of an
object, cannot be cured but by gratification. Very different
is an ordinary passion, in which desire precedes the sensa¬
tion of want. Such a passion cannot exist except while
the object is in view; and therefore, by removing the ob¬
ject out of thought, it vanishes with the desire and sensa¬
tion of want.
The natural appetites above mentioned differ from ha¬
bit in this, that they have an undeterminate direction to¬
ward all objects of gratification in general; whereas an
habitual appetite is directed to a particular object. The
attachment we feel by habit towards a particular woman
differs widely from the natural passion which comprehends
the whole sex; and the habitual relish for a particular dish
is far from being the same with a vague appetite for food,
hut notwithstanding this difference, it is still remarkable
that nature has enforced the gratification of certain natu¬
ral appetites essential to the species, by a pain of the same
sort with that which habit produces.
Ihe pain of habit is less under our power than any other
sensation arising from want of gratification. Hunger and
thirst are more easily endured, especially at first, than an
unusual intermission of any habitual pleasure; and persons
are often heard to declare they would forego sleep or food
rather than tobacco. We must not however conclude,
that the gratification of an habitual appetite affords the
same delight wdth the gratification of one which is natural,
far from it; the sensation of want only is greater.
The causes of the emotions hitherto considered are
euher an individual, such as a companion, a certain dwell-
. . Thus a man
deprived of an habitual object, attaches himself to that
which most resembles it. Deprived of tobacco, any bitter
herb will do rather than submit to want. A habit of punch
makes wine a good resource. Accustomed to the sweet
society and comforts of matrimony, the man unhappily de¬
prived of his beloved object inclines the sooner to take to
himself a second. And-in general, when we are deprived
of an habitual object, we are fond of its qualities in anv
other object.
Ihe reasons above assigned show why the causes of in¬
tense pleasure become not readily habitual; but now we
discover that these reasons conclude only against specific
habits. In the case of a weak pleasure, a habit is formed
by frequency and uniformity of reiteration, which, in the
case of an intense pleasure, produces satiety and disgust.
But it is remarkable, that satiety and disgust have no ef¬
fect, except as to that which occasions them. A surfeit
of honey produces not a loathing of sugar; and intemper¬
ance with one woman creates no disrelish of the same
pleasure with others. Hence it is easy to account for a
generic habit in any intense pleasure; the delight we had
in the gratification of the appetite inflames the imagina¬
tion, and induces us to search with avidity for the same
gratification in whatever bther object it can be found.
And thus uniform frequency in gratifying the same pas¬
sion upon different objects, produces at length a generic
habit. In this manner one acquires an habitual delight in
high and poignant sauces, rich dresses, fine equipages,
crowds of company, and in whatever is commonly term¬
ed pleasure. There concurs, at the same time, to introduce
this habit, a peculiarity observed above, that reiteration of
acts enlarges the capacity of the mind to admit a fuller
gratification than originally, with regard to frequency as
well as quantity.
Hence it appears, that though a specific habit cannot be
formed except upon a moderate pleasure, a generic habit
may be formed upon any sort of pleasure, moderate or im¬
moderate, that has variety of objects. The only difference
is, that a weak pleasure runs naturally into a specific ha¬
bit, whereas an intense pleasure is altogether averse to
such a habit. In a word, it is only in singular cases that
a moderate pleasure produces a generic habit; but an in¬
tense pleasure cannot produce any other habit.
The appetites which respect the preservation and propa¬
gation of the species are formed into a habit in a peculiar
manner; the time as well as measure of their gratification
being much under the power of custom, which, introducing
a change upon the body, occasions a proportional change
in the appetites. Thus, if the body be gradually formed
to a certain quantity of food at stated times, the appetite
is regulated accordingly; and the appetite is again changed
when a different habit of body is introduced by a different
practice. Here it would seem that the change is not made
upon the mind, which is commonly the case in passive
habits, but upon the body alone.
CUSTOM AND HABIT.
jgtom When rich food is brought down by ingredients of a
Habit, plainer quality, the composition is susceptible ot a specihc
habit. Thus the sweettasteofsugar, rendered less poignaiit
in a mixture, may in course of time produce a specific habit
for such mixture. As moderate pleasures, by becoming
more intense, tend to generic habits; so intense pleasures,
bv becoming more moderate, tend to specihc habits.
The beauty of the human figure, by a special recom¬
mendation of nature, appears to us supreme amidst thegrea
variety of beauteous forms bestowed upon animals. Ibe
various degrees in which individuals enjoy that property,
render it an object sometimes of a moderate, sometimes of
an intense passion. The moderate
quent reiteration without diminution, and occupying the
mind without exhausting it, grows gradually f
Bprnme a habit. Nay, instances are not wanting ol a face
at first disagreeable being afterwards rendered indifferent
by toSty, and at length agreeable by custom On
the other hand, consummate beauty, at the very
glance, fills the mind so as to admit of no increase. Ln-
foyment lessens the pleasure ; and if often repeated, it com¬
monly ends in satiety and disgust. The impressions made
by consummate beauty, in a gradual succession from lively
to faint, constitute a senes opposite to that of faint impies
sions waxing gradually more and more lively, until they
produce a specific habit. But the mind, when accustom-
Id to beauty, contracts a relish for it in general, though
often repelled from particular objects by the pain of sa¬
tiety ; and thus a generic habit is formed, of which incon¬
stancy in love is the necessary consequence ; for a generic
habitf comprehending every beautiful object, is an invinci¬
ble obstruction to a specific habit, which is confined to one.
One effect of custom, different from any that has yet been
explained, must not be omitted, because it makes a great
fieure in human nature. Though custom augments mode¬
rate pleasures, and lessens those that are intense, it has a
different effect with respect to pain ; for it blunts the edge
of every sort of pain and distress, whether faint or acute.
Uninterrupted misery, therefore, is attended with one
good effect, that if its torments be incessant, custom har¬
dens us to bear them. . , , ■
The changes produced in forming habits are cunous.
Moderate pleasures are augmented gradually by reitera¬
tion, until they become habitual, and then they are at their
height; but they are not long stationary; for from that
point they gradually decay, until they vanish altogether.
The pain occasioned by want of gratification runs a differ¬
ent course; it increases uniformly, and at last becomes
extreme, when the pleasure of gratification is reduced to
n°The^effect of custom with relation to a specific habit is
displayed throughout all its varieties in the use of tobacco.
The taste of that plant is at first extremely unpleasant;
but our disgust lessens gradually until it vanish altogether,
at which period the taste is neither agreeable nor disa¬
greeable. Continuing the use of the plant, however, we at
length begin to relish it; and our relish improves by use,
till it arrive at perfection. From that period it gradually
decays, while the habit is in a state of increase, and con¬
sequently the pain of want. The result is, that when the
habit has acquired its greatest vigour, the relish is gone;
and accordingly we often smoke and take snuff habitually,
without so much as being conscious of the operation. We
must expect gratification after the pain of want, the plea¬
sure of which gratification is the greatest when the habit
is the most vigorous. It is of the same kind with the plea¬
sure which one feels upon being delivered from the rack.
This pleasure, however, is but occasionally the effect of
habit, and, however exquisite, is avoided as much as pos¬
sible, because of the pain which precedes it.
With regard to the pain of want, we can discover no (Ikoij
difference between a generic and a specific habit; butanfj
these habits differ widely with respect to the positive plea- ^
sure. We have had occasion to observe, that the pleasure
ofa specific habit decays gradually until it becomes im¬
perceptible ; but the pleasure of a generic habit, on the con¬
trary, being supported by variety of gratification, suffers
little or no decay after it has arrived at its height. How¬
ever it may be with other generic habits, the observation
certainly holds good with respect to the pleasures of vir¬
tue and knowledge. The pleasure of doing good has an
unbounded scope, and may be so variously gratified that
it can never decay. Science is equally unlimited ; our ap¬
petite for knowledge having an ample range of gratifica¬
tion where discoveries are recommended by novelty, by
variety, by utility, or by all of these together.
In this intricate inquiry we have endeavoured, but
without success, to discover by what particular means it
is that custom influences us; and- now nothing remains
but to hold our nature to be so framed as to be suscep¬
tible of such influence. And supposing it purposely so
framed, it will not be difficult to detect several important
final causes. That the power of custom is a happy con¬
trivance for our good, cannot have escaped any one who
reflects that business is our province, and pleasure our
relaxation only. But satiety is necessary to check exqui¬
site pleasures, which otherwise would engross the mind,
and disqualify us for business. On the other hand, as
business is sometimes painful, and is never pleasant be¬
yond moderation, the habitual increase of moderate plea¬
sure, and the conversion of pain into pleasure, are admir¬
ably contrived for disappointing the malice of fortune, and
for reconciling us to whatever course of life it may be our
lot to pursue.
How use doth breed a habit in a man !
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns.
Here I can sit alone, unseen of any.
And to the nightingale’s complaining notes
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
As the foregoing distinctions between intense and mo¬
derate habits hold only in pleasure, every degree of pain
being softened by time, custom is a catholic remedy tor
pain and distress of every kind ; and of this ordination the
final cause requires no illustration.
Another final cause of custom has in a great measure
been overlooked; namely, that it has a greater influence
than any other known cause in putting the rich and t ie
poor upon a level; for weak pleasures, the share of the
latter, become fortunately stronger by custom, whilst vo¬
luptuous pleasures, the share of the former, are conti¬
nually losing ground by satiety. Men of fortune, who
possess palaces, sumptuous gardens, and neb fie'ds, enjoj
them less than passengers do. The goods of fortune
not unequally distributed, the opulent often possessins
what others enjoy. . „ t]ic
And indeed, if it be the effect of habit to P™<^e t
sensation of want in a high degree while there ^ little pk
sure in enjoyment, a voluptuous life is of all the least u
be envied. Those who are habituated to high feedmg, e }
vehicles, rich furniture, a crowd of valets, w.th much ^
ference and flattery, enjoy but a small share of happine
whilst they are exposed to manifold distresses,
enslaved by ease and luxury, even the petty inconvenient
of travelling, as a rough road, bad weath.e1’or 1 yevish
are serious evils ; he loses his tone ot mind, tur p ^
and would wreak his resentment even upon the <
accidents of life. Better far to use the goods of fortun
with moderation. A man who by tempeiance ^
has acquired a hardy constitution, is guarded against
CUSTOM AND HABIT.
J. ternal accidents on the one hand, and on the other is
jkprovided with great variety of enjoyment, which he has
A ever at command.
II. Effects of Custom and Habit in the Animal Economy.
These may be reduced to four heads, first, on the simple
solids; secondly, on the organs of sense; thirdly, on the
moving power; fourthly, on the whole nervous system.
Effects on the Simple Solids. Custom determines the
degree of flexibility of which they are capable. By fre¬
quently repeated flexion, the several particles of which
these solids consist are rendered more supple and move-
able on each other. A piece of catgut, for instance, when
on the stretch, and having a weight appended to its middle,
will thereby be bended perhaps half an inch ; and after¬
wards, by frequent repetitions of the same weight, or by in¬
creasing the weight, the flexibility will be rendered double.
The degree of flexibility has a great effect in determining
i the degree of oscillation, provided that elasticity is not
i affected; but if it go beyond this, it produces flaccidity.
Again, custom determines the degree of tension; for the
same elastic chord that now oscillates in a certain degree
of tension, will, by frequent repetition of these oscillations,
be so far relaxed, that the extension must be renewed in
order to produce the same tension, and consequently the
same vibrations, as at first. This appears in many instances
in the animal economy, as when different muscles concur
to give a fixed point or tension to each other. Thus a weakly
child totters as it walks along; but by giving it a weight
to carry, and by thus increasing the tension of the system,
it proceeds more steadily. In like manner, the fulness of
the system gives strength, by distending the vessels every¬
where, and so giving tension ; and hence a man, by good
nourishment, from being weak, acquires a great increase
of strength in a few days; whilst, on the other hand, eva¬
cuations weaken by taking off the tension.
Effects on the Organs of Sense. Repetition gives a greater
degree of sensibility, in as far only as it renders perception
more accurate. Repetition alone produces lasting impres¬
sions, and thus lays the foundation of memory; for single
impressions are retained but for a short time, and are
soon forgotten. Thus, a person who at present has little
knowledge of cloths, will, by frequent handling them, ac¬
quire a skill of discerning them which to others seems
almost impossible. Many are apt to mistake this for a
nicer sensibility, but they are much mistaken; for it is
an universal law, that the repetition of impressions renders
us less acute. This is well illustrated by the operation of
medicines; for all medicines which act on the organs of
sense must, after some time, be increased in their dose to
; produce the same effects as at first. This affords a rule
in practice with regard to these medicines ; for after a
I certain time it becomes necessary to change one medicine
even for a weaker of the same nature. Thus medicines
which have no great apparent force separately, are found,
by long use, to destroy the sensibility of the system to
other impressions. But to this general rule, that, by repe¬
tition, the force of impressions is more and more-diminish¬
ed, there are some exceptions. Thus persons, by a strong
emetic, have had their stomachs rendered so irritable that
one twentieth of the first dose was sufficient to produce
the same effect. This, however, chiefty takes place when
the emetic is repeated every day; for if the same dose be
given at pretty considerable intervals, the general rule is
observed to hold good. Thus two contrary effects of ha-
; bit are to be noted ; and it is proper to observe, that the
greater irritability is more readily produced when the first
mipression is great, as in the case above given of the strong
emetic. This may be further illustrated by the effect of
ear, which is commonly observed to be diminished on re¬
petition,—an effect which can only be attributed to cus-
vol. vir.
tom; whilst, on the other hand, there are instances of Custom
persons who, having once been greatly frightened, havean(l Habit,
for ever afterwards continued slaves to fears excited by
impressions of the like kind, however slight; a consequence
which must be imputed entirely to excess of the first im¬
pression, as has been already observed. To this head also
belongs the association of ideas, which is the foundation
of memory and of all our intellectual faculties, and is prin¬
cipally the effect of custom. With regard to the body also,
these associations often take place. And sometimes, in
producing effects on the body, associations seemingly op¬
posite are formed, which, through custom, become abso¬
lutely necessary ; for instance, a person long accustomed
to sleep in the neighbourhood of a great noise, is so far from
being incommoded on that account, that such noise be¬
comes afterwards necessary in order to produce sleep. It
will be of use to attend to this in medical practice; for,
however opposite it may seem at the time, we ought to
allow for whatever has usually attended the purpose we
design to effect. Thus, in the instance of sleep, we must
not exclude noise when we want to procure rest, or any
cause which may seem opposite to such an effect, provid¬
ed custom has rendered it necessary.
Effects on the Moving Fibres. A certain degree of ten¬
sion is necessary to motion, which is to be determined by
custom ; for instance, a fencer, accustomed to a particular
foil, cannot have the same steadiness or activity with one
heavier or lighter. It is necessary also that every motion
should be performed in the same situation or posture of
the body as the person has been accustomed to employ
in that motion. Thus, in any chirurgical operation, a cer¬
tain posture is recommended ; but if the operator has been
accustomed to another, such an one, however awkward,
becomes necessary afterwards to his right performance of
the particular operation.
Custom also determines the degree of oscillation of
which the moving fibres are capable. A person accus¬
tomed to strortg muscular exertions is quite incapable of
the more delicate movements. Tims writing is performed
by small muscular contractions ; but if a person has been
accustomed to stronger motions with these muscles, he
wall write with much less steadiness.
This subject of tension, formerly attributed to the
simple fibres, is probably more strictly applicable to the
moving ones: for besides a tension from flexion, there is
also a tension from irritation and sympathy; as, for in¬
stance, the tension of the stomach from food, which gives
tension to the whole body. Wine and spirituous liquors
give tension ; and, in like manner, a person who is so affect¬
ed with tremor as scarcely to be able to hold a glass of
any of these liquors to his lips, has no sooner swallowed
it than his whole body becomes steady; and after the sys¬
tem has been accustomed to such stimuli, if they are not
applied at the usual times, the whole body becomes flac¬
cid, and consequently unsteady in its motions.
Again, custom gives facility of motion. This seems to
proceed from the distention which the nervous power
gives to the moving fibres themselves. But in whatever
manner it is occasioned, the effect is obvious; for any
new or unusual motion is performed with great difficulty.
It is supposed that sensation depends on a communica¬
tion with the sensormm commune, by means of organs
sufficiently distended with nervous influence. We have
found that sensibility is diminished by repetition ; and we
have now to observe, that in some cases it may be increas¬
ed by repetition, owing to the nervous power itself flowing
more easily into the part on account of custom. Attention
to a particular object may also determine a greater influx
into any particular part, and thus the sensibility and irri¬
tability of that particular part may be increased.
4 B
562
c u s
CUT
,, , n„, with record to facility of motion, the nervous power,
amTlIabit. nc/doubt, flows raost easilj imo those parts «o whteh >
has been accustomed ; yet facility of motion does not en
tirely depend on this, but in part also on the concur¬
rence of the action of a great many muscles. Accordingly,
Winslow has observed, that in performing any moUon^ a
number of muscles concur to give a fixed point to those
intended chiefly to act, as well as to others designe
vary and modify their action. This, however, is assisted
by repetition and the freer influx; as by expenence vve
know the proper attitude for giving a fixed point in order
to perform any action with facility and steadines .
Custom o-ives a spontaneous motion also, which seems
to recuHtMated periods, even when the exciting causes
are removed. Thus, if the stomach has been accustomed
to vomit from a particular medicine, it will require a muc
smaller dose than at first, nay, even the very sig11 or re-
membrance of it will be sufficient to produce the effect,
and there are not wanting instances of habitual vomUm|,
from the injudicious administration of emetics. It is on th
account that all spasmodic affections so easily become ha¬
bitual, and are so difficult of cure; for we must not only
avoid all the exciting causes, even in the smallest degree,
but also their associations. . , ,
Custom also gives strength of motion ; and strength ex¬
pends on strong oscillations, a free and copious influx o
the nervous power, and on dense solids, but in what man¬
ner all these circumstances are brought about by repe i-
tion, has been already explained. The effect of custom m
producing strength may be thus illustrated: a man who
begins with lifting a calf, by continuing the same practice
every day, will probably be able to lift it when grown to
the full size of a bull. . re
All this is of considerable importance m the practice of
physic, though but too little regarded; for the recovery of
weak people in a great measure depends on the use of
exercise suited to their strength, or rather below it, fre¬
quently repeated and gradually increased. Turther, it is
necessary to observe, that custom regulates the particular
celerity with which each motion is performed, for a person
accustomed for a considerable time to one degree of cele¬
rity, becomes incapable of a greater: thus, for instance,
a man accustomed to slow walking will be out of breath
before he can run twenty paces. The train or order in
which our motions are performed is also established by
custom; for if a man has repeated motions for a certain
time in any particular order, he cannot afterwards per¬
form them in any other. Custom also very frequently asso¬
ciates motions and sensations: thus, if a person has been
in the use of associating certain ideas with the ordinary sti¬
mulus which in health excites urine, without these ideas
the usual inclination will scarcely excite that excietion,
and, when they occur, will require it even in the absence
of the primary exciting cause. It is very common for a
person to make urine when going to bed, and if he has been
for any length of time accustomed to do so, he will ever
afterwards make urine at that time, though otherwise he
would often have had no such inclination. By this means
some secretions become in a manner subject to the will.
The same maybe said ot going to stool. And this afioicis
us a good rule in the case of costiveness; for by endea¬
vouring to fix a stated time for this evacuation, it will
afterwards at such a time more readily return. It is fur¬
ther remarkable, that motions are insepaiably associated
with other motions. This perhaps very often proceeds
from the necessary degree of tension, but it also often
depends merely on custom, an instance ot which we have
in the uniform motions of our eyes.
Effects on the whole Nervous System. We have found
that, by custom, the nervous influence may be determin¬
ed more easily into one part than another; and therefore, Cust
as all the parts of the system are strongly connected, the |'i
sensibility, irritability, and strength of any particular part Cut
may be thus increased. Custom has also the power of^Y
altering the natural temperament, and of inducing a new
  14- lilrowico in flip nnwer of custom to rerulpr
one. It is likewise in the power of custom to render mo
tions periodical, and periodically spontaneous. An in¬
stance of this we have in sleep, which is commonly said to
be owing to the nervous power being exhausted, the neces¬
sary consequence of which is sleep; but it this were the
case, the return of sleep should be at different times, ac¬
cording as the causes which diminish the nervous influence
operate more or less powerfully; whereas the case is quite
otherwise, these returns of sleep being quite regular. This
is no less remarkable in the appetites, which return at par¬
ticular periods, independently of every cause but custom.
There are many other instances of this disposition of the
nervous influence to periodical motions, as the stoiy of the
idiot of Stafford, recorded by Dr Plot in the Spectator
(No. 4T7), who, being accustomed to tell the hours of
the church clock as it struck, told them as exactly when
it did not strike by its being out of order. Montaigne
tells us of some oxen that were employed in a machine for
drawing water, who, after making three hundred turns,
which was the usual number, could be stimulated by no
wTiip or goad to proceed farther.
CUSTOMS, or the duties, toll, tribute, or tariff, pay¬
able upon merchandise exported and imported. See Eng¬
land and Taxation.
Custom-House, an office established by the kings au¬
thority^ in the maritime cities or sea-ports, for the re¬
ceipt and management of the customs and duties of im¬
portation and exportation, imposed on merchandises, and
regulated by books of rates. . .
GUSTOS Biievium, the principal clerk belonging to the
court of common pleas, whose business it is to receive and
keep all the writs made returnable in that court, filing
every return by itself; and, at the end of each term, to
receive of the prothonotaries all the records of the nisi
prius, called the posteas. , „ ,
Gustos Rotulorum, an officer who has the custody ot the
rolls and records of the session of peace, and also of the
commission of the peace itself. He is usually some person
of quality, and always a justice of the peace, of the quorum,
in the county where he is appointed.
Gustos Spiritualium, he who exercises the spiritual
jurisdiction of a diocese, during the vacancy of any see,
which by the canon law belongs to the dean and chapter,
but at present, in England, to the archbishop of the pro¬
vince by prescription.
Gustos Temporalium was the person to whom a vacant
see or abbey was given by the king, as supreme lord. His
office, as steward of the goods and profits, was to give an
account to the escheator, who did the same to t e
CllGUTAKI, a small town of Hindustan, in the province
of North Ganara, above the Western Ghauts. Theneig -
bourhood was formerly infested by robbers, from whose
depredations the Brahmins, an industrious class of pe^
sons, fled and concealed themselves, with Jhel* effe5jgh
the forests during the rainy season. Under the
regime these disorders have been checked, and the tm
quillity of the country maintained. Long. 74. 4b. U.
^GUTCH, a province of the south-western extremity of
Hindustan, situated between the 68th and ^2d degrees^^
east longitude, and the 22d and 24th o n ^
It is a peninsulated tract of land enclosed towa^1
west by the eastern branch of the Indus or he Koree,^
the south bv the Indian Ocean and the Gult
f 31
f {i
C
l
m
:utc
t-r-
C U T C H.
563
and on the north and east, towards the interior, by the
'great Northern Runn, an extensive salt morass or lake,
which from May to October is flooded with salt water,
and communicates in its greatest extent with the Gulf of
Cutch on the west, and the Gulf of Cambay on the east,
these two divisions being united during the monsoon.
The interior of Cutch is studded with hills of consider¬
able elevation, and a range of mountains runs through
it from east to west, many of them of the most fantastic
shapes, with large insulated masses of rock scattered in
all directions. In the intervening valleys the country is
not deficient in fertility and verdure, and is sufficiently
productive in all cases where the nature of the govern¬
ment permits the cultivator to enjoy the fruits of his la¬
bour. But this very seldom happens. Many of the hills
are covered with jungle, and with the strongholds and dens
of petty chiefs, who sometimes protect, but more fre¬
quently issue forth to plunder, the lower country. The
general appearance of Cutch is barren and uninteresting ;
the greater part is a rock destitute of soil, and presenting
the wildest aspect; the ground is cold, poor, and sterile;
the rains are generally scanty, and often fail altogether;
and the whole face of the country bears marks of volca¬
nic action. From the violence of tyranny, and the rapine
of a disorderly banditti, by which this district has from
time immemorial been infested, as well as from shocks of
earthquakes, the villages have a ruinous and dilapidated
appearance; and, with the exception of a few fields in
their neighbourhood, the country presents a rocky and
sandy waste, with in many places scarcety a show of vege¬
tation. Water is scarce and brackish, and is chiefly found
at the bottom of low ranges of hills, which abound in some
parts; and the inhabitants of the extensive sandy tracts
suffer greatly from the want of it. Mrs Elwood, who
visited this country in her overland journey to India, ob¬
serves, that “ she could imagine that Cutch had been ori¬
ginally a rocky island of volcanic production, thrown up
at some great convulsion of nature, and that in the course
of ages soil had been washed down by the Indus, the
Bhunni, the Puddar, and other streams, which now lose
themselves in the sand.” Owing to the uncertainty of the
periodical rains in Cutch, the country is liable to severe
famines, which, along with the internal broils by which it
has been harassed, have greatly obstructed cultivation,
and thinned the inhabitants, man}' of whom have been
induced to emigrate to Bombay and Gujerat; and, in ad¬
dition to all these evils, an uncommonly violent earth¬
quake, which occurred on the 16th of June 1819, nearly de¬
stroyed Bhooj, the capital, and greatly injured the towns
of Anjar, Mandavie, and Moondria or Mundra. The soil
of Cutch produces grain, cotton, tobacco, ghee, &c.; and
iron and coal have been discovered, the latter near the
surface of the ground, on the banks of one of the rivers,
seven miles north-east of Bhooj, but it is not in general
use as fuel.
The Ilunn, which communicates with the Gulf of Cutch,
! and sweeps round the northern side of that province, is a
| very extensive salt morass, varying in breadth from five
I to eighty miles across, and during the rains nearly impas¬
sable for horsemen. The total area of this immense mo-
| rass may be estimated at about 8000 square miles, without
including any portion of the Gulf of Cutch, which is in
many parts so shallow as to resemble a marshy fen rather
than an arm of the sea. The Runn is said to be formed by
the overflow of the river Puddar and the Gulf of Cutch
during the monsoon ; but in December it is quite dry, and
in most places hard. The wild ass is very common on Cutch.
the borders of this lake, being seen in herds of from sixty
to seventy at a time.
The temperature of Cutch during the hot season is
high, the thermometer frequently rising to 100° or 105°;
and in the months of April and May, clouds of dust and
sand, blown about by hurricanes, which are common in
these months, envelope the houses, and the glass win¬
dows scarcely afford any protection. The hot wind in
May is so scorching that it has been compared to the feel¬
ing which would be experienced on standing near a quan¬
tity of burning grass. For nine months of the year the cli¬
mate is comparatively temperate and agreeable; but the
approach of October is equally dreaded both by the native
and European population as extremely unhealthy, and at
the close of the monsoon the oppression of the atmo¬
sphere is described as being excessive. The influence of
the monsoon is greatly moderated before it reaches this
country, and the rains sometimes fail altogether; but
although in this case the necessary consequences are want
and misery to the great body of the people, yet these
dry seasons are far more favourable to the health of Eu¬
ropeans. In 1825, when the monsoon rains were copious,
the country was extremely unhealthy; and, on the other
hand, the years 1823 and 1824 were equally remarkable
for salubrity and for drought. The monsoon generally
sets in with great violence from the north-east before it
settles in the south-west. The prevailing wind is westerly,
and it blows west by south and west by north ten months
in the year. The easterly winds, which do not blow more
than a month in the year, are always unhealthy and
unpleasant, and bring with them, if they continue long,
epidemics and locusts. Cutch is considered unhealthy
by the natives from other parts of the country; and Dr
Burnes, who was stationed there, and gives an account
of its medical topography, mentions that he has known
many persons from Bombay, especially servants, who were
perfectly useless from continued sickness in Cutch, but
who recovered their health the moment they had left it.
He also adds, that he never was at any station where
recoveries from fever were so tedious and incomplete.
The hospital returns do not, however, he adds, show any
extraordinary sickness. The cholera, that dreadful scourge
of Europe as well as of India, has made no progress in
Cutch. The most common diseases among the natives
are fever and rheumatism; and fever is also the prevail¬
ing disease among Europeans, the first attacks of which
are always the most dangerous.1 “ These,” Dr Burnes
mentions, “ are generally in the form of bilious remittents,
leaving a tendency behind them to intermittent fever,
liable to produce a paroxysm on any exciting cause and
in elucidation of this, he mentions, that of five officers
resident in Cutch, of whom he is himself one, they are
all subject to periodical attacks, and scarcely at any time
enjoy six months uninterrupted health. These, however,
are not severe, and easily yield to the remedy of sulphate
of quinine, without any serious injury to the constitution.
There are some stations at Cutch particularly noxious,
such as Narrona, a village in a marsh twenty-four miles
north-east of Bhooj, near the Runn; and Luckput Bun¬
der, remarkable for the badness of its water.
The principal towns are Bhooj, Anjar, Jharrah, Kunt-
cote, and Kuttaria. The principal sea-ports are Mandavie
and Mundra. The town best known to Europeans is
Bhooj, which is situated inland, and is surrounded by an
amphitheatre of hills, some of which approach within
1 See Narrative of a Visit to the Court of Sinde; also a Sketch of the History of Cutch, &c. By J. Burnes, Surgeon to the Pre¬
sidency at Bhooj. 1831.
564
Cutch.
V—-V-w
CUTCH.
three or four miles of the city. The hill of Bhoojeah,
on which the fort is situated, and under the south-west
angle of which is the cantonment of the Cutch brigade,
rises to the height of 500 feet in the middle of the plain,
and is detached from other high ground. The residency
is four miles distant in a westerly direction, mere aie
many mountain streams, but no navigable rivers, iney
scarcely contain any water except in the rainy season,
when they are very full and rapid, and discharge then-
selves into the Runn, all along the coast o w 1
wells and springs are more or less impregnate wi
mon salt, and other saline ingredients. .• n
Various causes have contributed to thin the populat o
of this country. In 1812 it was ravaged b,; a famine and
pestilence, which destroyed a great proportion ot its inha-
bitants • according to some accounts nearly one halt. 1 ms,
joined5tiTthe tyranny and violence of the government tin-
til the year 1819, and more lately to a succession of un¬
favourable seasons, has forced many of the cultlvat°*V0
remove to Sinde and other countries. At present the in¬
habitants may be estimated at 350,000, of whorn one
third are Ma'hommedans, and the remainder Hindus of
various castes, resembling in their habits and manners
those of other parts of India. The Jharejah Rajpoots
form a particular class, being the aristocracy of the coun¬
try : and all are more or less connected with the family ot
the Rao or prince. There are in Cutch about 250 of these
Jhareiah chiefs, who all claim their descent from backo
Goraro, a prince who reigned in Sinde about a thousand
years ago. From him also the prince is lineally descended,
and he is the liege lord of whom all the chiefs or nobles
hold their lands in feu, for services which they or their
ancestors had performed, or in virtue of their relationship
to the family. They are all termed the brotherhood o
the Rao, and supposed to be his hereditary advisers, and
their possessions are divided among their male children ;
and to prevent the breaking down of their properties, the
necessary consequence of this law, of inheritance, theie is
no doubt that infanticide is common among them, and
that it extends to the male as well as the female descend¬
ants. The British have exerted their influence to check
this inhuman practice; but it is so interwoven with the
state of manners and property, that it is still carried on in
the private recesses of the Jharejah’s forts, where it is im¬
possible to watch them. They consider it as unlawful to
marry any female of their own tribe, being all descended
from a common parent. They accordingly marry into the
families of other Rajpoots ; and to this unfortunate icgu a-
tion may be chiefly ascribed the destruction of all the fe¬
male children. The Jharejahs have a tradition that when
they entered Cutch they were Mahommedans, but that
they afterwards adopted the customs and religion of the
Hindus. It is certain, indeed, that they still retain many
Mahommedan customs. They take oaths equally on the
Koran or on the Shastras; they employ Mussulman books ;
they eat from their hands; the Rao, when he appears in
public, alternately worships God in a Hindu pagoda and a
Mahommedan mosque ; and he fits out annually at Man-
davie a ship for the conveyance of pilgrims to Mecca, who
are maintained during the voyage chiefly by the liberality
of the prince. The Mahommedans in Cutch are of the
same degenerate caste with those usually found in the
western parts of India. Ihe Meeanahs form a particular
class, who claim the same descent as the Jharejahs, and
boast of their constancy to the Mahommedan creed, while
the latter apostatized ; but they have now entirely dege¬
nerated, being little better than banditti, always ready to
commit outrages, and to sally out in disorderly bands to
plunder the peaceful country. Such has been the w eak-
ness and tyranny of the rulers of Cutch, that they have
frequently had recourse to these wretched auxiliaries in jL
order to aid them in their inordinate exactions, while at V'
other times they i-ecruited the army from the same race.
They were nearly extirpated under the rigorous rule of
Futteh Mahommed, but of late years they have returned
in considerable numbers to their villages among the hills.
In the seasons of scarcity of 1823 and 1824 many of
them emigrated to Sinde, where, joining with other adven¬
turers, they formed disorderly bands, who made forays
into Cutch, several villages of which they plundered and
burned. The natives are in general of a stronger and
stouter make, and even handsomer, than those of western
India ; and the women of the higher classes are also hand¬
some. The Ryots are described as intelligent, and the
workmen are justly celebrated for their ingenuity and
mechanical skill. The palace at Mandavie, and a tomb of
one of their princes at Bhooj, are fair specimens of their
architectural skill. In the manufacture of gold and silver
ornaments they display a taste and nicety far beyond any
Asiatic artists, except those of China ; and there is scarcely
any piece of mechanism which, with some instruction, may
not be imitated by the goldsmiths and carpenters at
Bhooj. The natives of this country are in general peace¬
able and obedient subjects, for robberies and murders are
seldom committed except by the Meeanahs. They are
universally addicted to the use of opium;and the hookah.
The quantity of opium which they take is enormous ; and
its effects, according to Dr Burnes, are less deleterious to
their constitution than might be supposed ; though he
mentions, that from being continually under its influence,
they appear to be of a dull and phlegmatic character.
The country of Cutch was invaded about the ninth cen¬
tury by a body of Mahommedans of the Summa tribe,
who under the guidance of five brothers emigrated from
Sinde, and who gradually subdued or expelled the ori¬
ginal inhabitants, consisting of three distinct races. The
descendants of these five leaders assumed the name of
Jharejah, from a chief named Jharrah, who set an example
of female infanticide by putting to death his seven daugh¬
ters in one day. Cutch continued tranquil under their
sway for many years, until some family quarrel arose,
in which the chief of an elder branch ot the tribe was
murdered by a rival brother. His son fled ^to Ahmeda-
bad to seek the assistance of the viceroy, who was mar¬
ried to his sister, and who reinstated him in the sove¬
reignty of Cutch, and Moorvee in Kattiwar, with the title
of Rao, or Rawul, in the year 1519.
The succession continued in the same line from the
time of this prince until the year 1666, when a younger
brother, Pragjee, murdered his elder brother, and usurp¬
ed the sovereignty. This line of princes continued till the
year 1760 without any I’emarkable event, when, in the
reign of Rao Gore, the country was invaded four times by
the Sindians, who wasted it with fire and swrord. The
reign of this prince, as well as that of his son Rao Rahi-
den, by whom he was succeeded in 1778, was marked by
cruelty and blood. The latter prince was dethroned, and,
being in a state of mental derangement, was during his
lifetime confined by Futteh Mahommed, a native of Sinde,
who continued, with a short interval, in which the party ol
the legal heirs, Bhyjee Bawa, gained the ascendency, to
rule the country until his death in 1813. It was in the
reign of Futteh Mahommed that a communication first
took place with the British government. During the con¬
tests for the sovereignty between this usurper and the le¬
gal heir, the leader of the royal party, Hunsraj, the go¬
vernor of Mandavie, sought the aid ot the British. nf
no closer connection followed at that time thananagiee
ment for the suppression of piracy, or of any inroads o
troops to the eastward of the Runn, or Gulf of Lutcli;
CUT
CUT
565
and in return the Company’s government agreed to warn
the rulers of Sinde against any attempt to invade the
neighbouring country of Cutch. But the Gulf of Cutch,
notwithstanding this agreement, continued to swarm with
pirates, who were openly encouraged or connived at by
the son of Hunsraj, who had succeeded his father, as well
as by Futteh Mahommed, who also permitted bodies of
banditti to cross into Kattiwar, which they laid waste,
and even proceeded to lead a force across the Runn into
purkur, with a view of extending his authority in that
quarter. Futteh Mahommed left several sons by differ¬
ent wives, who were competitors for the vacant throne.
Hussein Meyan succeeded to a considerable portion of his
father’s property and power. Jugjevan, a Brahmin, the
late minister of Futteh Mahommed, also received a con¬
siderable share of influence; and the hatred of these two
factions was embittered by religious animosities, the one
being Hindu and the other Mahommedan. The late
Kao had declared himself a Mahommedan, and his adhe¬
rents were preparing to inter his body in a magnificent
tomb, when the Jharejahs and other Hindus seized the
corpse and consigned it to the flames, according to the
forms of their superstition. The two factions declared,
the one for Ladoba, the nephew of the late prince Rao
Rahiden; the other for Maun Sing, his son by a slave
girl, who was elevated to the throne under the name of
Kao Bharra, or Bharmuljee.
The administration of affairs was nominally in the hands
of Hussein Meyan and his brother Ibrahim Meyan. Many
sanguinary broils now ensued, in the course of which Jug¬
jevan, with several of his family, were murdered, and the
executive authority was much weakened by the usurpa¬
tions of the Arabs and other chiefs. In the mean time
Ibrahim Meyan was stabbed by an assassin ; and after va¬
rious other scenes of anarchy and blood, the Rao Bharmul¬
jee, by general consent, resumed his lawful power. But
his reign was one continued series of the grossest enormi¬
ties; his hostility to the British was no longer concealed;
and his inroads into their territories were continued with
increased activity. There was no longer, therefore, any
room for hesitation; and accordingly a force of 10,500
men crossed the Runn in November 1815, and were with¬
in five miles of Bhooj, the capital of the country, when a
treaty was concluded, by which the Rao Bharmuljee was
confirmed in his title to the throne, and agreed to pay for
the losses sustained by the chieftains of Kattiwar from
predatory incursions ; to re-imburse the expenses of the
expedition, which, however, was not insisted on by the
British; to make himself responsible for the good conduct
of his subjects; to disband the Arab mercenaries; and to
fix the Ilunn and the Gulf of Cutch as the eastern boun¬
daries of his principality, and to cede in perpetuity to the
' British, Anjar and its dependencies. The Rao, however,
was far from fulfilling the terms of this treaty. He gave
himself up to intemperance and the grossest indulgences;
and being a tool in the hands of an unprincipled faction,
he gave orders for the murder of his cousin Ladoba, the
nephew of the late Rao; and on every occasion he dis¬
played his hostility to the British. On these grounds, it
was determined to depose him, and an army was assem¬
bled at Anjar under the command of Sir William Keir,
where it was joined by the five principal Jharejah chiefs'.
The British force soon approached the capital, and having
taken the fort of Bhorjeah by assault, the Rao Bharmul¬
jee surrendered his person to the British, and was imme¬
diately placed under a guard. He has since been detain¬
ed as a state prisoner ; and his only son, a child of three
years of age, was elected sovereign. A regency was ap¬
pointed, of which the British resident, Captain M‘Murdo,
was declared president; and since this period the coun¬
try, under the superintending influence of the British, has Cutch
enjoyed comparative tranquillity. H
Cutch Gundava, a district in the province of Beloo- Cutlery,
chistan, situated at the bottom of the mountains lying
south-east of Kelat. It is about 150 miles in length, and
forty or fifty in breadth. The soil is rich, black, and loamy,
and produces every species of grain, as also cotton, indigo,
madder, and other commodities. The rains are heavy in
June, July, and August; it rains also, but not so heavily, in
the spring months. The climate during the summer is un¬
healthy, owing to the simoom or pestilential wind which
blows at that time, by which many people lose their lives.
Great quantities of grain are exported from this district
to the sea-ports of Curachee and Sonmeanjq whence it is
shipped to Muscat, on the coast of Mekran. In unfavour¬
able seasons it is also sent to the mountainous country.
CUTH, or Cuthah, in Ancient Geography, a province of
Assyria, situated, according to some, upon the Araxes, and
the same with Cush; whilst others take it to be the same
with the country which the Greeks call Susiana, and which
is by the inhabitants called Chusestan. Calmet is of opi¬
nion that Cuthah and Scythia are the same, and that the
Cuthites who were removed into Samaria by Salmanaser
(2 Kings, xvii. 24) came from Cush or Cuth. (See the
article Cush.) The Cushites worshipped the idol Nergal.
These people were transplanted into Samaria in the room of
the Israelites, who before inhabited it. Calmet is of opi¬
nion that they came from the land of Cush, or Cuthah,
upon the Araxes, and that their first settlement was in
the cities of the Medes subdued by Salmanaser and the
kings of S^ria his predecessors. The Scripture observes,
that the Cuthites, upon their arrival in this new country,
continued to worship the gods formerly adored by them
beyond the Euphrates. But Esarhaddon, king of Assyria,
who succeeded Sennacherib, appointed an Israelitish priest
to go thither and instruct them in the religion of the He¬
brews. These people, however, thought that they might
reconcile their old superstition with the worship of the true
God, and they therefore framed particular gods for them¬
selves, which they placed in the several cities where they
dwelt. The Cuthites then worshipped both the true God
and their false gods together, and chose the lowest of the
people to make of them priests to serve in the high places ;
and they continued this practice for a long time. But after¬
wards they forsook the worship of idols, and adhered to
the law of Moses.
CUTLERY, generally speaking, includes all cutting
tools made of steel. Various countries and cities have
at different periods excelled in the manufacture of some
particular article, as Damascus for a beautiful sword blade,
which has hitherto baffled all attempts at imitation. If
this blade is made, as is commonly supposed, by weld¬
ing together extremely fine wires of iron, steel, and gold,
laid alternately on each other, the dexterity required is
such as must astonish the most active and experienced
Workmen of other countries. The peculiar wave, usually
called the water, so universally admired, is effected by
the application of a weak acid to the polished surface of
iron and steel; at Damascus sulphate of alumine is used;
but any dilute acid seems to answer the purpose. The
cutlery of England is deservedly held in high estima¬
tion in every part of the civilized world. The finer arti¬
cles, as razors, penknives, scissors, and surgical instru¬
ments, are made of cast-steel, that is, steel purified and
equalized by fusion. Dexterity and nice attention on the
part of the workman to a variety of circumstances, as the
quality of the steel, nature of the fuel, accuracy in the pro¬
cesses of hardening and tempering, and many other minor
considerations, are essential to the production of a good
cutting instrument. Wootz, a steel from India, has been
CUTLERY.
most successfully employed. For table-knives, and all cut¬
lery of that description, sheer-steel is generally used ; the
tang and shoulder of the table-knife and fork are iron,
united to the blade by welding.
The principal manufactories in England are at London
and Sheffield ; the former are chiefly confined to articles
of fine cutlery, as razors, penknives, and the like, and the
making of surgical instruments belongs almost exclusive y
to it. This important branch of the trade is there carried
to a very high state of perfection. Describing the process
of making any one blade, a razor for instance, will suffice
for most other articles of cutlery. The workman being
furnished with a bar of cast-steel, forges his blade, using
a forge similar to that of a smith ; the brow of his anvil and
his hammer being convex, enable him to give to the blade
a degree of concavity which greatly facilitates and acce¬
lerates the subsequent work of grinding. The blade is
then fashioned more exactly with a file. It is again heat¬
ed to a cherry-red colour, and instantly quenched m a
cold fluid, commonly water. In this stage the blade is
extremely hard, and requires to be tempered; a process
usually performed by brightening one side, then heating
it over a fire free from flame and smoke, until the bright¬
ened surface assumes a straw colour. It is again quencned,
and is then ready for grinding. As this method of tem¬
pering is liable to many objections, a tempenng-bath, with
thermometer, will be described, the superior advantages
of which appear too obvious for comment. But it now
remains to grind and polish the blade; and this is 80 Se"
nerally understood as hardly to need explanation, xhe
diameter of the stone is chosen according to the degree
of concavity required; and in polishing, care is necessaiy to
avoid heating the blade by friction, which would render
it useless. In London, the blade is generally the produc¬
tion of one workman, who is accountable lor the whole
manipulation, and who, il the work is faulty, can transfei
no blame to another. At Sheffield, by division of labour,
and the local advantages of coal and water to carry on ex¬
tensive machinery, more dispatch is attained, and the ma¬
nufacture afforded at a price considerably below that of
London. Numerous attempts have been made to preserve
from rust that beautiful polish given to the cutlery of
England; the most effectual method is to coat the surface
with ethereal solution of gold, or, what is still better, with
muriate of platina. The late Mr Stodart has given his
method of preparing and using these solutions in the
eleventh volume of Nicholson s Journal. The process is
interesting, independently of its utility, as a chemical ex¬
periment, proving the almost infinite divisibility of gold.
It is worth mentioning, that the iron procured from me¬
teoric stones is less susceptible of oxidation than any other.
This is most probably owing to its being combined with
nickel. Perhaps by artificially combining the twro metals,
we might obtain an alloy valuable for making instruments
that, from necessity, are exposed to moisture. Having
objected to the common method of hardening and temper¬
ing steel, on which process the excellence of the instru¬
ments so much depends, we proceed to state some im¬
provements in that art. The method of tempering with a
thermometer was practised by Mr Stodart with perfect suc¬
cess. The following experiment is simple, and clearly ex¬
hibits and illustrates this manner of tempering. Let a plate
of steel finely polished be so laid as to float on the surface of
a bath of mercury, or of the fusible alloy of tin, lead, and
bismuth ; into the bath plunge the bulb of a thermometer,
graduated up to 600° Fahrenheit; a good argand will heat
the bath. No change of colour will be visible on the steel
until the mercury has risen to 430°, and it will then be so
faint as only to be perceptible by comparison with a plate
that has not been heated. At 430° the colour will be a
fine pale straw, which, as the heat increases, will become
deeper, and successive changes will take place until it be
Cu;y.
'w* V .
heated up to the boiling point of mercury.
The advantages of this mode of tempering will now ap¬
pear obvious and conclusive. If, for example, a straw co¬
lour indicates the best temper for a penknife, the blade,
or ten thousand blades, are suffered to remain in the bath
until the thermometer rises to the number corresponding
to that colour, when they are instantly removed from fur¬
ther increase of heat, and, consequen tly, are all of one tem¬
per. After the first experiment, it is unnecessary for the
bath to be metallic—oil will answer the purpose equally
well.
The late Mr Nicolson, wffio devoted much attention to
the subject of steel, used, in hardening delicate articles, a
bath of lead; and a metallic bath may, perhaps, frequent¬
ly be advantageous in hardening as well as in tempering.
A very ingenious method of hardening steel work was
communicated to Mr Stodart by Dr Wollaston. The
steel is inclosed in a tube, surrounded by the well-known
fusible alloy of eight parts lead, two tin, and five bismuth.
The tube, with its contents, is heated in a furnace to red¬
ness, and then plunged into a cooling fluid. It is after¬
wards thrown into boiling water, by which the alloy is
fused, and the steel is left perfectly hardened, and unal¬
tered by twisting, cracking, or in any way changing its
shape. Several experiments have been made to ascertain
the best cooling fluid, without any very satisfactory result.
A large quantity of water cooled down to about 40° Fah¬
renheit seems to answer as well as any thing hitherto
tried. Mr Stodart quenched a scalpel in snow and mu¬
riate of lime, without perceiving any advantage from the
extreme cold.
Having mentioned the wootz of India as valuable for
fine articles of cutlery, a brief account of it may be ac¬
ceptable. For the introduction of wootz into this coun¬
try, we are indebted to the late Sir Joseph Banks, who
submitted some of it to the experiments of intelligent
workmen in the year 1795. It was soon found to con¬
tain valuable properties. From the cake (as the lump is
called in the state in which it is imported) a small pen¬
knife was made. The forging was attended with con¬
siderable difficulty, partly owing to the unmanageable
form of the cake, but more especially to the inequality
of the mass; the steely principle being deficient in some
parts, whilst others were quite overcharged with it. The
penknife, however, proved excellent, and fully justified
and encouraged further trials. I he inequality in the
mass was evidently owing to imperfect fusion, which de¬
fect wall most likely remain until the Indian steel-maker
is acquainted with the formation and management of a
proper furnace. If he was likewise instructed to poui the
fluid metal into a mould instead of allowing it to crystal¬
lize in the crucible, and afterwards to form it into bars
with a tilt-hammer, it might be imported in the shape ot
English cast-steel, and probably at a price not greatly ex¬
ceeding that article. The Indian account of wootz-making
is the following. Pieces of forged iron are inclosed m a
crucible with wood, and heated together in a furnace ; the
fire is urged by three or more bellows peculiar to the coun¬
try ; thus the wood is charred, the iron fused, and at the
same time converted into steel. The metal is suffere o
crystallize in the crucible, and in this state it is imported.
This method of steel-making is neat and ingenious, its
chief peculiarity consists in the wood not being previously
charred, its apparent defect in the fusion notbeingcomplete-
When wootz is submitted to a second and more perfect
fusion, it improves so much as scarcely to be recognise .
This advantageous change is evidently owing to thewiio e
mass being purified and equalized when in a state as i
ijiy.
as water. It is now fit for all purposes of fine cutlery, and
is in fact infinitely superior to the best cast steel of Eng¬
land. Is this owing to the use of uncharred wood, or is it
not rather, as suspected by Mr Stodart, owing to some
particular property of the iron ore of India highly favour¬
able to steel-making? The present state of chemical know¬
ledge does not militate against the supposition, that this
steel maybe alloyed with one or more of the metals of the
earth. We know that a very minute quantity of one metal
is capable of producing extraordinary effects by combin¬
ing with another. Sir Humphry Davy’s discovery is a
fine example of this, namely, that mercury is rendered so¬
lid, and has its specific gravity diminished from 13 to 3, by
combination with of ammonium. Wootz requires
from the workman every attention and care in forging. If
overheated it is useless. In hardening, it should be quench¬
ed at a cherry red colour, and, in tempering, be heated
from thirty to forty degrees higher than our best cast steel.
Thus if a razor of cast-steel should be removed from the
bath at 460°, one of wootz may remain to 500°, and even
then it will be the hardest of the two. Notwithstanding
its excellence, this steel has hitherto been little used by
cutlers.
We have already mentioned a branch of cutlery, which,
from its importance to the cause of humanity, claims some
further notice. Knives and other edge instruments for
surgical operations, made and finished in the very best
manner, are indeed invaluable. When fortunately the form
and physical properties of the instrument are exactly to
the wish of the operator, he is freed from many embarrass¬
ments inseparably connected with a bad or an indifferent
instrument, consequently the sufferings of the patient are
lessened both in intensity and duration. This truly desirable
state of excellence is confessedly of difficultattainment. The
choicest pieces of steel should be carefully selected (that
from India merits a preference), and the skill and undivid¬
ed attention of the best workman devoted to the whole
manipulation of forging, hardening, tempering, grinding,
and polishing. By want of ability or diligence during these
various processes, the knife may be rendered totally unfit
for the purposes for which it was intended. Finishing the
edge, technically termed setting, is a work of much delicacy
and skill. Very few acquire this art in the highest degree
of perfection. The artist must be in a situation undis¬
turbed by noise or conversation, and his attention must be
exclusively devoted to the object on which he is engaged.
This very nice and delicate process is performed on a
hone moistened with fine oil. The best are from Germany.
They are imported in large quantities; not many, how¬
ever, of superior quality can be selected. The very finest
of these are still inadequate to give the last finish to the
edge. This is performed on a beautiful green stone, found
in some parts of the old pavement of London ; the only
known material capable of giving perfect smoothness to
the points of lancets and other delicate instruments.
These points, when made and finished in the very best
manner, will perforate a thin piece of leather, by which
they are usually proved, with such ease and facility, that
no more resistance is sensibly felt, or noise made, than
would be if the point was dropped into a fluid, as water
or oil. Nothing short of this proof of excellence is satis¬
factory ; mediocrity cannot, at least ought not, to be ad¬
mitted. These observations apply generally to every de¬
scription of knife used in surgery; but the nature of each
particular operation should be considered, in judging of
the requisite degree of strength or delicacy of edge. Next
in importance to the knives are the saws used in surgery.
All of these must be of the best spring temper, which, for
the cast-steel blade, is about 570° of Fahrenheit, and for
one of Indian steel 600°, or quite the boiling point of mer¬
cury. Of another class of instruments, namely, those deno- Cutlery,
minated blunt, it will be sufficient to observe, that what is
known by the name of sheer steel is best adapted for the
purpose. Case-hardened iron has been most improperly
used, this hardening being very superficial. It is, in fact,
converting the surface only into steel, by heating it to red¬
ness, in a close vessel, in contact with animal coal, such
as charred bone, leather, or horn, and quenching it when
red hot in a cold fluid. Iron thus treated will take a beau¬
tiful polish; but, except for ornamental purposes, it ouo-ht
never, to be employed. Some instruments are necessarily
made of gold or silver, as catheters, and other tubes and
probes. When for these ductility is required, the metals
should be unalloyed ; the extra expense will be more than
compensated by the convenience of giving to the instru¬
ments, in all cases, the desired curve and form. The elas¬
tic catheter consists of a tube of wove silk, coated with a
fine varnish, pretty generally supposed to be made from
caoutchouc, or Indian rubber. This material, doubtless,
forms a component in the varnish; alone it will not an¬
swer, as, in using, it would soon be partially decomposed;
but when digested with the letharge of lead and linseed
oil, it forms a varnish of great beauty, elasticity, and du¬
rability, exactly adapted to make the fine surface of the
elastic catheter. These valuable instruments were invent¬
ed and first made at Paris. They are now manufactured
in London, and finished in the most exquisite manner.
The handles of'instruments, together with all ornamental
parts, must in a great measure depend on the taste and
choice of the purchaser. It would be well, however, to
avoid such materials as are known to produce chemical
action when in contact with polished steel. ' Ivory and
mother-of-pearl are objectionable, as is ebony, although
much used. The fine walnut-tree, such as the London
gunmakers employ, is perhaps of all the woods the best
for the purpose. Sandal-wood answers very well, although
it by no means deserves all the credit which has been
given to it as a preservative of steel from rust. The in¬
strument-maker who wishes to excel will do well to avail
himself of every opportunity of witnessing the operative
part of surgery; he can then judge how far the instru¬
ment is mechanically and physically adapted to its pur¬
pose ; and, if imperfect, he is better able to make the re¬
quisite alteration.
British cutlery has deservedly obtained a high degree of
reputation in almost every part of the civilized world; and
it is of vast importance to the commercial interests of the
country that its character should be preserved and rendered
permanent. It must not, however, be concealed, that some
danger does exist of this branch of our manufacture suf¬
fering from the use of very improper materials, from which
considerable quantities are fabricated. Thus a patent was
obtained by a Sheffield manufacturer for a process of cast¬
ing cutlery from a species of pig iron. This iron is, from
the superabundance of its carbon, highly susceptible of
liquidity, and readily cast into the required form. In this
state the cast-iron cutlery is extremely hard, and as brittle
as glass; but it is reduced from this hardness by decom¬
position, being subjected to a strong and long-continued
fire in close vessels; and, in contact with iron ore, oxide
of iron, or any substance containing oxygen, with which
the superabundant carbon combines, when kept at a high
temperature, and flies oft' in the state of carbonic acid gas.
In this way, table-knives, forks, razors, scissors, penknives,
and other articles are cast, saving all the labour of forging
from the bar by the hammer.
This cast-iron cutlery is, when finished, not always, in
appearance, distinguishable from that made at the forge;
and as it can be afforded at a much lower price, it ought,
in common justice, to be specifically marked as cast iron*.
568
Cuttack
CUT
CUV
full to the extremities of the
This very fusible iron may be advantageously applied to
II many purposes. It is hardly necessary to add, that it is
Cutting. ait0gether unfit for any description of edge instrument.
CUTTACK, an extensive district of Hindustan, m the
province of Orissa, lying chiefly between tbe twentieth
and twenty-second degrees of north latitude. io tne
north it is bounded by Midnapoor and Mohurbunge, on
the south by the Circars, on the east by the Bay ot Ben¬
gal, and on the west by different small states in the in¬
terior of Orissa. Its length is computed at about 140 or
150 miles, and its average breadth at about sixty mi e».
The country varies in the quality of its soil; m some pai s
it is fertile and highly cuhivated, other I>arts are scmy 'stfine earth. (See Horticulture).
and barren, and that lying near the hills CUTTsf John Lord, a soldier of approved bravery i_
brushwood. This district is inhabited by S K; \yiUiam’s wars, was son of Richard Cutts, Esq. of
weavers, who manufacture muslins, in pieces ^ —i ootfiori
turbans. But its chief source of gain is the celebrated
temple of Juggernaut, which is annually visited by some
hundreds of thousands of pilgrims, who, besides offerings
to their idol, pay a considerable tribute to government, m
addition to the sums of money spent on t 'c'1' r<,^e^ of Buda by theTmperialists in 1686, which important place
Brahmins are dependents on this temple, and do not there o1 ^uaa oy P ^ & ha]f in the hands of the
fore attend to agriculture. • Tire 's'verTuA, Mr AddUon, in a Latin poem worthy of the Augus-
bv the Mahanuddy and Bramnee or Bonnee rivers, ana j-uiks - - - —r • • 1 1 L 
J - , i  11 Tfc; r*m£>r 1
vvhen they do not come full to the extremities of the Cut,
shield. n II
Cutting, in the manege, is when the horse s feet inter- V^uvs’
fere, or when with the shoe of one foot he beats off the i ;
skin from the pastern joint of another. This is more fre¬
quent in the hind feet than in the fore ; and the causes
are either weariness, weakness in the reins, not knowing
how to go, or ill shoeing.
Cutting, in Painting, the laying one strong lively co¬
lour over another, without any shade or softening. The
cutting of colours has always a disagreeable effect.
Cuttings, or slips, in Gardening, the branches or sprigs
of trees or plants cut or slipped off to set again, which is
i\ 1 nli, VV imam » VVCUOJ  *  7 1’
Matching, in Essex, where the family were settled about
the time of Henry VI., and had a great estate. He en¬
tered early into the service of the Duke ot Monmouth,
was aide-de-camp to the Duke of Lorrain in Hungary, and
signalized himself in a remarkable manner at the taking
their branches, and many small streams. Its chief towns
are Cuttack, Juggernaut, Balasore, and Jagepore. I ns
district is mentioned so early as the year lkl.~, under t e
title of Jagepore, by the Mahommedan historians ; and it
was not properly subdued till the year 1569, wheu |t was
conquered and annexed to Bengal. It was ceded, in the
year 1751 to the Mahrattas, and came into tbe possession
of the British in the year 1803, during the administration
of Marquis Wellesley, who subdivided it into the southern
and northern districts of Juggernaut and Balasore. Ihe
inhabitants are estimated at 1,200,000, almost wholly pi o-
fessing Brahminical doctrines. _ ^
Cuttack, the capital of the above district, which was
formerly fortified, and contained a number of good houses
and bazars ; but during the period when it was possessed
by the Mahrattas it fell into decay. Its position 18 natu¬
rally strong, being on a neck of land washed by the i la la-
nuddy and"Gunjoory rivers, and it is a place of some con¬
sequence, being the only road between Bengal and the
Northern Circars. The low country round the town is un¬
der water during the rainy season for a circuit of ten miles,
and the station is considered unhealthy. In the year to J -
it withstood the Mogul arms for nearly a month. Long.
86. 10. E. Lat. 20. 31. N. . '
CUTTER, a small vessel, commonly navigated in the
English Channel. It is furnished with one mast, and rigged
as a sloop. Many of these vessels are used in an illicit
trade, while others are employed by government to take
them, and either under the direction of the admiralty or
that of the custom-house.
Cutter is also a small boat used by ships of war.
CUTTERAH, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Delhi, and district of Bareilly. Here was fought the deci¬
sive battle, in 1774, in which Sujah ud Dowlah, with the
aid of the British forces, defeated the Rohillahs, who were
nearly all exterminated by the cruelty of the conquerors,
and annihilated as an independent state.
CUTTING, a term used in various senses in various
arts ; but in general it implies a division or separation.
Cutting is particularly used in heraldry where the
shield is divided into two equal parts from right to left,
parallel to the horizon, or in the fesse-way.
The word is also applied to the honourable ordinaries,
and even to animals and moveables, when they aie divided
equally the same way, so as that one moiety is colour, and
the other metal. The ordinaries are said to be cut, couped,
tan age, alludes to Mr Cutts’ distinguished bravery at that
sieo-e? Returning to England at the Revolution, he received
a regiment of foot, was created Baron of Gowran in Ireland
on the 6th of December 1690, appointed governor of the
Isle of Wight on the 14th of April 1693, and made a ma-
ior-<Teneral. When the assassination pioject was disco¬
vered in 1695-6, he was captain of the king’s guard. In
1698 he was complimented by Mr John Hopkins, as one to
whom a double crown was due, as a hero and a poet. He
was colonel of the Coldstream or second regiment of guards
in 1701, when Mr Steele, who was indebted to bis interest
for a military commission, inscribed to him his first work,
The Christian Hero. On the accession of Queen Anne,
he wms made a lieutenant-general of the forces in Hol¬
land, commander in chief of the forces in Ireland under
the Duke of Ormond, and afterwards one of the lords
justices of that kingdom, to keep him out of the way of
action. He died at Dublin on the 26th January 170/,
and was buried in the cathedral of Christ-Church. He
wrote a poem on the death of Queen Mary, and published,
in 1687, Poetical Exercises, written upon several occasions,
and dedicated to her Royal Highness Mary princess ot
Orange. This collection contains, besides the dedication,
• VeTses addressed to that princess, a poem on Wisdom,
another to Mr Waller on his commending it; seven more
copies of verses (one of them called La Muse Cavalier,
which had been ascribed to Lord Peterborough, and as
such mentioned by Mr Walpole in the list of that noble¬
man’s writings), and eleven songs, the whole composing
but a very thin volume. . . .
CUVETTE, or Cunette, in Fortification, is a ditcn
within a ditch, being a pretty deep trench tourja-
thoms broad, running along the middle of the g J
ditch to hold water, and serving both to keep off the ene )
and prevent him from mining. Uor.r.pwTrK-
CUVIER, George-Leopold-Christian-Trederic
Dagobert, the most celebrated naturahstof modern tunes,
was a native of Montbeliard, now a French town, but for¬
merly the chief place of a principality in Switzerland, ^,
pendent on the Duke of Wurtemberg, where he w® bora
‘on tbe 23d of August 1769. H.s him, y came ongraally
from a village on the Jura, which still bears *ejame °
Cuvier. His father was a retired officer, who bad set
forty years in a Swiss regiment in the pay o >
whence he derived a moderate allowance or pension, ana
latterly he held the command of the artillery at
Cm
CUVIER.
Hard, where, under the superintendence of his mother,
' young Cuvier was initiated in the elements of learning.
He was brought up in the Protestant faith, which was that
of his family, and early gave indications of those mental
qualities for which he afterwards became so greatly distin¬
guished. He was gifted with a memory of extraordinary
power, and likewise evinced an aptitude for drawing, his
taste for which was formed at the age of twelve, from the
works of Buffon. The study of the Latin and Greek lan¬
guages occasioned him but little difficulty; the German
he acquired with equal facility ; and he also made himself
master of the different other modern languages in succes¬
sion. He had a passion for every kind of reading, parti¬
cularly history; and such was the tenacity of his memory,
that the driest details of nomenclature, and the most
lengthened lists of sovereigns, princes, statesmen, and
warriors, were remembered by him without effort, and so
forcibly impressed on his mind as never afterwards to be
effaced. At the age of fourteen, having acquired nearly
all the instruction which the school of Montbeliard could
supply, he was sent to Stuttgard, under the patronage of
Duke Charles of Wurtemberg, and had a place assigned
him, free from all expense, in the Caroline Academy,
where he was entered in the month of March 1784. He
remained four years at this seminary, and his progress
corresponded with the advantages which he enjoyed; and
in every department of knowledge which formed the sub¬
ject of instruction, he evinced that reach of comprehen¬
sion and soundness of judgment for which he was always
remarkable. Lessons were given in five different faculties,
one of which was exclusively devoted to the study of go¬
vernment; and, singular as it may appear, it was to this
that he attached himself the most. The principal subjects
taught were the elementary and practical departments of
law, and the more useful details connected with finance,
police, agriculture, and technology; and so sensible was
he of the advantages of such a branch of instruction, that
he always lamented that a corresponding system had not
been established in France.1 Among the teachers com¬
posing the faculty which formed the object of Cuvier’s
predilection was M. Abel, professor of natural history,
who took a lively interest in the progress of the young
Frenchman, whose genius he had not failed to discover;
contributed to supply him with the means of indulging
his inclination for the study of the natural sciences, to
which, amidst all his varied occupations, he continually
recurred; and engaged him, sometimes in reading and
meditating on the standard works in this department of
knowledge, and at other times in drawing insects or form¬
ing an herbarium. But this favourite occupation did not
prevent him from obtaining the most decided success in
the other studies prescribed by the rules of the academy;
and, at the termination of the course, he received, in ad¬
dition to the highest prizes, an order of merit conferred
only on five or six out of the four hundred pupils belong¬
ing to the establishment.
The term of his education being thus completed, circum¬
stances rendered it necessary for him to turn his thoughts
to the active business of life; and his first resource was
to engage himself as tutor to superintend the education
569
of one of the children of a Protestant family in Normandy'. Cuvier.
This situation, how humble soever it may appear, had
at least the recommendation of affording him sufficient
leisure for the prosecution of his scientific duties; from
being employed in the useful labour of instructing others
he derived the means of promoting his own improvement;
and he never afterwards shrunk from the recollection of
his entrance on a path which in process of time conducted
him to so much celebrity. It was in July 1788, when he
had scarcely completed his nineteenth year, that Cuvier
went to reside in Normandy, at a country-house situated
near the sea, in the middle of an almost insulated dis¬
trict. In this remote retreat he found a secure asylum
from the fury of the revolutionary tempest which deso¬
lated so many other parts of France; and during the days
of dismal memory with which the history of that period
is darkened, he escaped the danger which threatened all
who were conspicuous for virtue and excellence. About
this time a fortunate accident procured him the acquaint¬
ance of Jessier, whom terror had driven to the neighbour¬
hood where Cuvier then resided ; and having quickly dis¬
cerned the talents of the young naturalist, this accom¬
plished person hastened to put him in communication
with many scientific men in Paris, particularly with La-
metherie, Olivier, Lacepede, Geoffroy', and Mellin de
Grandmaison. When the reign of terror had terminated,
these distinguished persons invited him to Paris, where
the re-establishment of literary and scientific institutions
was now becoming an object of attention. Cuvier accord¬
ingly repaired to the capital in the spring of 1795, and,
by the interest of Mellin and Jessier, he wras almost im¬
mediately appointed a member of the Commission of Arts,
and shortly afterwards made professor to the Central
School of the Pantheon. It was for the use of this school
that he prepared his Tableau Elementaire de I'Histoire
Naturelle des Animaux, the first work which the public
knew to be his, and which, notwithstanding its elementary
appearance, has served as the basis of all subsequent works
on zoological classification. But his principal object had
not yet been attained. He desired to enter the Museum of
Natural History, which alone could furnish him with the
means of prosecuting the scientific investigations which
were already matured in his mind; and this satisfaction
was not long denied him; for the professor, Mertrud, who
had been appointed to the newly-established chair of com¬
parative anatomy, having attained an advanced age, which
unfitted him for teaching a science that was new to him,
yielded to the entreaties of his colleagues Jussieu, Geof¬
frey, and Lacepede, and upon their recommendation ac¬
cepted Cuvier to supply his place.
Cuvier, having thus attained the object of his ambition,
laboured indefatigably to prove himself worthy of the con¬
fidence which had been placed in him, and formed, for
the use of comparative anatomy, that collection which is
now known throughout all Europe ; whilst the lectures by
which he rendered it so useful soon attracted a numerous
concourse of students, who spread his fame to a distance
as an eminent and successful teacher. These lectures have
since been published in five volumes 8vo, and their merit
is universally acknowledged. This was the grand epoch
Baron Pasquier states, in his Eloge of Cuvier, that the latter had often been heard to express regret at the little assistance afford-
fjn France to those who were employed in acquiring a knowledge of the principles of government. The Baron’s words are,
11 Quand la science des lois, dont les tribunaux font 1’application, est partout, disait-il, 1’objet d’dtudes pour lesquelles tous les genres
de secours et d’encouragemens sont prodigu^s, d’oii vient qu’on dddaigne, ou au moins qu’on neglige de fournir a la jeunesse les
rooyens d’acque'rir methodiquement la connoissance de cette foule de dispositions, de reglemens qui influent si puissamment sur un
nombre infini d’interets publics et prive's ? d’oii vient qu’on ne s’occupe pas de lui apprendre de la meme maniere les principes sur
jesquels repose, ou devrait reposer cette legislation administrative ? Je me plais h rapporter cette vue de M. Cuvier, parce qu’elle
inmqne deja 1’attrait que devaient avoir pour lui les travaux auxquels il s’est en effet livre avec tant de zele, tous les fois que 1’oc-
que devaient avoir pour lui les travaux auxquels 
casion lui a e'te offerte de preter k Padministration publique le secours de ses talens et de ses lumieres.”
VOL. VII
4 c
CUVIER.
of Cuvier’s life. He had now attained a station which
enabled him to give full scope to all his energies, and to
reach that height of scientific distinction where he main¬
tained an undisputed pre-eminence for the long period ot
forty-seven years. Cuvier, in fact, may be regarded as
moving in three different spheres; namely, in that ot li¬
terature, that of public instruction, and that of the admi¬
nistration : yet, in the midst of a multiplicity of occupa¬
tions, the minutest details, whether these related to public
instruction, the deliberations of the council of state, or the
committee of the interior, were never neglected by him ;
and to his unrivalled fame' as a naturalist he was enabled
to add the reputation of a most useful as well as a most
illustrious citizen. . _ 1 . •. i'tqa
The National Institute was established in the yeai I / Jb.
At this time Cuvier was professor of comparative anatomy
in the Museum of Natural History; and, in consequence
of the reputation which he had acquired by his course ot
lectures, as well as by the publication of some memoirs
he was soon invited to become a member. At first the
secretaries were only temporary, none of them holding
the office longer than two years. Cuvier was the thud
in order; and, in 1800, when Bonaparte, after his return
from Egypt, and the revolution of the 18th Brumaire,
which made him first consul, had assumed the title of Pre¬
sident of the Institute, this great naturalist found himselt
placed in intimate relationship with that extraordinary
man, then aspiring to every kind of glory, and having
his views already turned towards the possession ot so¬
vereign power. During the same year M. Daubenton
died, and the professor of comparative anatomy was ap¬
pointed to teach in his stead the philosophy of natural
history. In 1802, the first consul, wishing to remodel the
system of public instruction, nominated six inspectors to
establish lyceums in thirty French towns. Cuvier was one
of these, and his commission directed him to superintend
the establishment of the lyceums of Marseilles and Bor¬
deaux, which are now royal colleges. During his absence
from Paris the Institute was re-organized; perpetual se¬
cretaries were appointed, and Cuvier was elected to fill
that office in the class of the natural sciences. It was
in the latter capacity that, in 1808, he drew up his histo¬
rical report of the progress of the natural sciences. Na¬
poleon had asked merely for a report; but, under this
unassuming title, the skilful reporter contrived not merely
to show the road which had already been traversed, but to
indicate that which ought still to be pursued. Ihis report
was read to the emperor in the council of state, and great¬
ly admired. In the course of the same year the Imperial
University was established, and Cuvier nominated one of
the councillors of that body for his life. In 1809 and 1811
he was occupied in instituting academies in those parts
of the Italian provinces which had been annexed to the em¬
pire ; in 1811 he undertook a similar mission to Holland
and the Hans Towns; and in 1813 he was sent to Rome, in
order to organize a university. These successive journeys
could not fail to be profitable to such an observer, whilst
the intimate connection which they afforded him opportu¬
nities of forming with distinguished men of all countries,
enabled him to accumulate most valuable materials for all
the works in which he was then engaged. But his admi¬
nistrative talents had not escaped the penetration of Na¬
poleon, who knew well how to estimate men at their real
value, and he was soon called to act in a different sphere.
While at Rome he received the news of his being ap¬
pointed a master of requests ; and, once a member of the
council of state, he was not long in raising himself to the
first rank. Nor did the events of the year 1814, which
overthrew the imperial power, retard his further advance¬
ment. He became a councillor of state in the month of
September in that year; and soon afterwards he was re- Cfo
peatedly offered, but as often declined, the situation of'
superintendent of the Jardin du Roi, an office on which
Buffon had conferred so much celebrity. In the month of
February 1815 the university having been remodelled, a
place was assigned him, under the title of chancellor, in
the royal council of public instruction attached to that in¬
stitution. But the new convulsion occasioned by the re¬
turn of Napoleon from Elba prevented his continuing a
member of the council of state ; he was, however, retained
in the Imperial University, where the absence of his name
would have created too great a blank. About four months
afterwards, when it became necessary to re-establish what
the hurricane of the hundred days had overthrown, it was
found that neither the system of the Imperial Univer¬
sity, nor even that of the Royal University as it had been
organised in February, could be fully carried into effect.
A°provisional arrangement was therefore judged neces¬
sary, and a commission appointed to exercise the powers
which had been previously vested in a grand master, a
council, a chancellor, and a treasurer. Of this commis¬
sion Cuvier was named a member, and from the first the
duties of chancellor devolved on him. He took an active
part in the labours of the commission, to wffiich he ren¬
dered very important services; and he acted as president
on two occasions, each time for more than a year, but
always provisionally, his religion disqualifying him for
bein«- regularly appointed to that office. In 1818 he vi-
siteef England, and, on his arrival in London, learned that
he had been elected a member of the French Academy;
an important addition no doubt to the gratification which
must then have been afforded him by the flattering recep¬
tion which he met with in the British metropolis, from
men who were certainly very competent judges of the
merit which they honoured with their notice and regard.
In 1819 he was appointed president of the section of the
interior in the council of state, and from the moment
when he entered on this office, the duties of which were
alike important and laborious, he never quitted it until
the period of his death. In 1824, when a minister of ec¬
clesiastical affairs was appointed, and the new porte-feuille
passed into the hands of a bishop who had previously been
grand master of the university, the duties of the latter
office, as far as they regarded Protestant theology, were
entrusted to Cuvier, by whom they continued to be per¬
formed during the remainder of his life. In 1827 the su¬
perintendence of that department of the administration
of the interior which related to the forms of worship not
Catholic was committed to him; and, lastly, he was raised
to the peerage about the end of the year 1831. But the
brilliant career of this great naturalist was now fast draw¬
ing towards its close; and he expired on the 13th ot May
1832, after four days’ suffering, from an attack of paralysis
in the throat, which soon reached his lungs, being then
only in the sixty-third year of his age. He died sur¬
rounded by nearly all that remained of his domestic circle;
bv his wife, his "daughter-in-law, and his brother, w io
united all their affection in consoling his last moments.
In his family he had suffered severe afflictions, having lost
three sons in infancy, whilst his daughter, a mo e
grace and virtue, was carried off on the eve of contiacting
a marriage which had received her fathers entire appro¬
bation, and promised a long course of happiness,
children, also, which his wife had had by a foira®
riage, and which he had adopted, two were arrested by
death at an age when all risks appeared to have ceased,
and hope seemed to have become reality.
We have already mentioned the earliest woik
procured him distinction in the natural sciences.
1811 he published his Recherches sur les Ossemens ro
CUVIER.
de Quadruples. This work has gone through three edi¬
tions, and the preliminary discourse has often been re¬
printed. In 1817 appeared his Memoires pour servir d
I'Histoire des Mollusques, which effected a total change in
one branch of zoological classification ; and also Le Regne
Animal distribue d'apres son Organization, in four vols.
gvo, which soon became the foundation of all zoological
studies, whilst, in most of the schools, the lectures, collec¬
tions, and works of research, were all more or less eluci¬
dated or illustrated by an appeal to this great work. Cu¬
vier was assisted by his friend Latreille in the part of the
work connected with the class of insects, a class which is
in itself more numerous than all the rest of the animal
kingdom, and which would require for its illustration the
whole life of a laborious man ; but he had persuaded this
skilful entomologist to deviate in some points from his
usual system, in order that his labours might the better
harmonize with the other parts of the work. During the
last years of his life he was occupied with a great work
on the natural history of fishes, in twenty volumes, of
which eight have already appeared, and the materials for
five others were prepared previously to his death. The
preparation of the Regne Animal having showed Cuvier
how much the study of fishes had fallen behind that of
the other branches of zoology, find made him sensible of
the difficulties of prosecuting it, owing to the obscurity in
which the anatomy of these animals was involved, the im¬
possibility of knowing with precision the laws deducible
from the comparison of their organs, the want of good col¬
lections, and the somewhat artificial spirit which had hi¬
therto prevailed in the study of ichthyology, he exerted
himself to collect skeletons of fishes from all parts of the
world, anatomised a great number with unusual care, as¬
sociated with himself in the study of their details a man
of merit, M. Valenciennes, to assist him, and, in a period
comparatively short, became thus enabled to arrange the
elements of that history of fishes, of which, as stated above,
eight volumes have already appeared. Several years ago
Cuvier also undertook a course of lectures on the history
of the natural sciences, which he delivered from notes,
and which, according to the testimony of all who heard
him, were remarkable for eloquence, precision, and lucid
arrangement. He was, besides, occupied with a new edi¬
tion of his lectures on comparative anatomy, and wished
to devote the remainder of his life to a great treatise on
the same science, for which, indeed, he had brought to¬
gether the immense collection of the Jardin du Roi, whilst
the greater number of the drawings necessary for the
work were already completed, a very considerable por¬
tion of them having been executed by his own hand.
“ This,” said he, “ will be a work almost entirely new, be¬
cause our immense collections, and the works executed
by other anatomists, since the first publication, have fur¬
nished me with many new facts; but I see with pleasure
that the system requires little change, and that it con¬
tinues preferable, at least in my opinion, to those which
have been adopted since by some learned men.” This
project, which was always present to his mind, and for
which he had in fact laboured nearly forty years, seemed
to him necessary for completing as it were the cycle of
his works; but the melancholy doubt which he oftener
than once expressed, that he would not live to complete
his design, was but too soon verified ; and he died leaving
the work in the state which we have already described,
buch indeed was the surprising fertility of genius for
which this great naturalist was distinguished, that he left
behind him unpublished works which, as De Candolle re¬
marks, might well be supposed to have absorbed the la¬
bour of a whole lifetime.
Cuvier was a man of an extremely active and enter-
571
prising, yet sound and methodical mind. In him strong na- Cuvier,
tural sagacity and almost unerring good sense were unit¬
ed with unwearied industry, an invincible love of labour,
a habit of hearing and investigating every thing with pa¬
tience, admirable correctness and precision in thinking,
and singular clearness in the explanation of doctrines and
systems, however complicated and refined these might be.
Nor was he less remarkable for the variety than for the
extent and completeness of his acquirements. In litera¬
ture, in the sciences, in practical education, and in civil ad¬
ministration, his abilities were displayed, if not with equal
brilliancy in all, at least with distinguished success. His
Eloges are all masterpieces of their kind, which, while
they enable us to form an idea of the extent of his knowlege
in the natural sciences, evince, at the same time, great lite¬
rary skill in the disposition and arrangement of his mate¬
rials, and consummate address in the selection of those pro¬
minent points which are best calculated to convey a distinct
general idea of the course or route which it was his object to
trace out. Of this kind of composition some beautiful ex¬
amples had previously appeared in France; and Fontenelle,
D’Alembert, Condorcet, and Vicq-d’Azir, were each greatly
distinguished, though often for very different qualities. But
Cuvier may with justice be considered as having excelled
all his predecessors in the art of analysing the principles
and describing the origin and progress of a science, with
such a degree of precision and perspicuity as to bring it
to the level of every capacity. Aiming less at effect than
Fontenelle, free from the disdainful and ill-disguised scep¬
ticism of D’Alembert and Condorcet, and possessed of
more profound and varied knowledge than Vicq-d’Azir, he
could intersperse, in the most attractive manner, his in¬
structive and able expositions of the labours and discover¬
ies of those whom he celebrated, with details of their his¬
tory and private life, which generally attested the humble
origin whence they had emerged to usefulness and cele¬
brity. It is no doubt easy to conceive a style more cor¬
rect and skilfully laboured than Cuvier’s, but it is difficult
to imagine one better adapted to his extensive erudition,
or more appropriate to the subject of which he is treating,
and the thought which, at the time, he requires to express.
His varied talents, however, are perhaps best proved by
the influence which he exerted on natural history. For,
independently altogether of his discoveries, and the bene¬
fits which he conferred upon the science by his works, he
may be said to have created, so much did he improve, the
cabinet of comparative anatomy attached to the Museum
of Natural History at Paris; and when placed by the choice
of his colleagues at the head of this establishment, he con¬
tributed greatly to accelerate its progress, and carried into
its general details that activity and that perfection of me¬
thodical arrangement for which he was ever distinguished.
When called to co-operate in the direction of public in¬
struction, whether in the council of the university, in the
provinces, or in countries then dependent upon France, he
everywhere made himself remarkable for the same quali¬
ties, and evinced a desire not merely to improve the ge¬
neral system of education, but also to render it more easi¬
ly accessible. His remarks on the primary instruction of
Holland sufficiently evince his solicitude for the diffusion
of knowledge among the people ; and the effects of his ar¬
rangements in the higher studies have proved extensively
beneficial, not only by the correction of much that was
evil, but also by affording greater scope and a fairer field
for their advancement. In making the round of the ad¬
ministrative functions (with the exception of censor, which
he nobly refused when the government wished to bestow
it on him), he displayed the same superiority which dis¬
tinguished his career in the more congenial pursuits of
science, literature, and public instruction. He was in fact
572
C Y A
Cvanome- so well acquainted with laws, regulations, and official acts
' ter. of all kinds, that his colleagues in the administration conti-
nually deferred to him, and were every day more and more
surprised at the extent and accuracy of his information re¬
specting subiects which seemed the least likely to engage
the attention of a man so much devoted to the pursuits ot
science. In a word, the range of his knowledge was sur¬
passingly great. He had all his life read much; he had
been a constant and attentive observer ; and he had nevei
forgotten any thing which seemed worth remembering,
powerful and retentive memory, sustained and directed b^
sound judgment and singular sagacity, formed the Punc *
pal foundation of his immense works, and of success
which more or less attended him in ^
Nor in the midst of a life so occupied did he neglect the
graces and accomplishments of society. His conversation,
sometimes grave and solemn, sometimes piquant and live-
Tat aTuiLs distinguished for its propriety and correct,
ness made him the ornament of the saloons, and the de
S Tall those who had the honour of his acquaintance.
He was a warm, sincere, and faithftil fiiend, lull ot giati
tude to those who had contributed to his early advance¬
ment in life ; moderate in all his habits; and wholly unim¬
peachable in the different relations ot social life. He en¬
gaged the minds and hearts of those who surrounded him;
and whilst he displayed great ability in directing the efforts
of others towards the accomplishment of his own views,
he was wholly free from that engrossing selfishness which
sometimes attends great mental superiority. In a word,
Cuvier was a good as well as great man, combining with
talents and accomplishments of the first order that big i
personal worth which conciliates universal esteem, disarms
envy, and sheds fresh lustre even on the brightest and
noblest mental endowments. (A’)
CYANOMETER, a word compounded from the Ureek,
signifying a measure of the intensity of blue. On high
mountains the sky appears of a deeper blue than on the
plain, because there the air contains a smaller proportion ot
opaque vapour. In order to have a comparable specimen
of the shade off blue of the sky, at different times and at
different places, Saussure contrived the cyanometer. it
consists of pieces of paper of three quarters of £m inch by
half an inch, each coloured with a different shade ot Prus¬
sian blue. The piece number 1 is coloured of a very light
shade, differing in so small a degree from white that it is
not distinguishable from white at a distance at which a
black circular spot of one line and three quarters in dia¬
meter becomes invisible. The piece number 2 is ot a
shade of blue a little darker than number 1, so that it
is not to be distinguished from number 1 when viewed
from the distance before determined by the black spot.
The other pieces are coloured with shades of blue suc¬
cessively darker, each being undistinguishable from that
which precedes it when at the distance ascertained by
the black spot. The darkest piece differs little from black,
and is not* to be distinguished from black at the ascer¬
tained distance. The series begins with a white piece and
ends with a black one. Including these two, the whole num¬
ber of pieces is fifty-one ; and these pieces are pasted close
to each other, and in succession from the lightest to the
darkest, round the border of a circular piece of pasteboard.
The colour of the sky is ascertained by holding up this
pasteboard, and comparing it with the sky in an open
place. If this comparison were made from a window, the
coloured pasteboard would not receive all the light from
the sky, but would be illuminated in part by the light
reflected from the building. The direct light of the sun
should not fall on the cyanometer, as the instrument
ought to be used in similar circumstances, and the direct
light of the sun cannot always be had.
C Y B
The colour of the sky depends on the quantity of opaque Cyt< ls
vapour in the air. The less vapour there is, the darker is
the colour of the sky. If the air were entirely free from CjVl.
opaque vapour, the sky would appear black. The particles ' -
of opaque vapour in the air reflect chiefly the blue rays,
and thus give rise to the blue colour of the sky. The co¬
lour of the sky at the zenith is darker than at the hori¬
zon, because the quantity of vapour through which the
eye looks at the horizon is greater than at the zenith.
Saussure observed, that on the summit of the Col du
Geant, from four in the morning to six, the colour of the
sky at the zenith became darker by eleven shades. Du¬
ring the next four hours it became darker by four shades;
at ten it was at the darkest, and continued so till eleven;
from eleven to six it became lighter by six shades; and
from six to eight it became lighter by twelve shades. The
colour of the sky during the night was light blue. A cya¬
nometer was observed at Chamouni, and another at the
same time at Geneva; the shades and the change of shades
at the same hours were different in each, and different also
from those observed on the Col du Geant. At Geneva
the colour of the sky was darkest fiom ten to twelve, as
on the Col du Geant. In the morning the colour of the
sky is not much deeper on the Col du Geant than on the
plain at Geneva, which shows that the air on the moun¬
tain is then as much loaded with opaque vapour as on the
plain. In the evening the colour of the sky is lighter on
the Col du Geant than at Geneva; the quantity of opaque
vapour therefore is greater at that time of the day in the
zenith of the Col du Geant than in the zenith of the
plain. In the middle of the day the colour of the sky is
much darker on the Col du Geant than it is on the plain,
which shows that the quantity of opaque vapour is at that
hour less than on the plain. Hence it appears that the
mid-day sun has a great effect in rarefying the opaque va¬
pours on high mountains, and that it does not diminish in
so great a degree the quantity of opaque vapour on less
elevated plains. Saussure, Description du Cyanometre,
Mem. de Turin, 1788, 1789; Journal de Phys. 1791, vol. i.;
and Saussure, Voyage dans les H/pes, sect. 2009. I he
cyanometer was employed by Humboldt in his travels in
South America. (B; Bv
CYATHUS, xvaki (from the verb yjooi, fundo, to pour
out), was a common measure among the Greeks and Ro¬
mans, both of the liquid and dry kind. It was equal to an
ounce, or the twelfth part of a pint. The cyathus was made
with a handle like our punch ladle. The Roman topers
used to drink as many cyathi as there were muses, namely,
nine; and also as many as there were letters in their pa¬
tron’s name. Thus they had modes of drinking similar to
the modern health-drinking or toasting. The cyathus ot
the Greeks weighed ten drachms; but Galen says that a
cyathus contained twelve drachms of oil, thirteen drachms
and one scruple of wine, water, or vinegar, and eighteen
drachms of honey; and he adds, that among ie
narii the cyathus contained two ounces.
CY AX ARES, son of Phraortes, was king of Med a ana
Persia. He bravely defended his kingdom, which the
Scythians had invaded. He made war agtuns ^ j
king of Lydia, and subjected to his power all Asiabeyon^
the river Halys. After a reign of forty years, he die
the year of Rome 160. , ,
Cyaxares II. is supposed by some to be fivre.
Darius the Mede. He was the son of Astyages, king of Me
dia. He added seven provinces to his father s domm »
and made war against the Assyrians, whom Cyr
CYBEBE, a name of Cybele (from xv/3^, i-e« ^ ^
or mfinfrav), because in the celebration of her festival ^
was customary to feign, or at least to exhibi, P
madness.
CYC
CYC
573
Cybe
II
lyclai
CYBELE, in Pagan mythology, the daughter of Coelus
and Terra, and wife of Saturn. She is supposed to be
the same as Ceres, Rhea, Ops, Vesta, Bona Mater, Mag¬
na Mater, Berecynthia, Dindymene, &c. According to
Diodorus, she was the daughter of a Lydian prince, and,
immediately after her birth, exposed on a mountain. But
she was preserved by sucking some of the wild beasts of
the forest, and received the name of Cybele from the
mountain where her life had been preserved. When she
returned to her father’s court, she had an intrigue with
Atys, a beautiful youth, whom her father mutilated. All
the mythologists are unanimous in mentioning the amours
of Atys and Cybele. In Phrygia the festivals of Cybele
were observed with the greatest solemnity. Her priests,
called Corybantes and Galli, were not admitted into the
service of the goddess without undergoing a previous mu¬
tilation. In the celebration of the festivals, they imitated
the manners of madmen, and filled the air with shrieks
and bowlings mixed with the confused noise of drums,
tabrets, bucklers, and spears. This was done in comme¬
moration of the sorrow of Cybele for the loss of her fa¬
vourite Atys. Cybele was generally represented as a ro¬
bust woman far advanced in pregnancy, to intimate, it is
said, the fecundity of the earth. She held keys in her
hand, and her head was crowned with rising turrets, and
sometimes with the leaves of an oak. She is also repre¬
sented as riding in a chariot drawn by two tame lions,
while Atys follows by her side, carrying a ball in his hand,
and supporting himself upon a fir-tree, which is sacred to
the goddess. Sometimes she is represented with a sceptre
in her hand, and her head covered with a tower. She is
also seen with many breasts, to show that the earth gives
aliments to all living creatures; and she generally carries
two lions under her arms. From Phrygia the worship of
Cybele passed into Greece, and was solemnly established
at Eleusis under the name of the Eleusinian Mysteries
of Ceres. The Romans, by order of the Sibylline books,
brought the statue of the goddess from Pessinus into Italy ;
and when the ship which carried it had run on a shallow
bank of the Tiber, the virtue and innocence of Claudia
were vindicated in removing it with her girdle. It i$ sup¬
posed that the mysteries of Cybele were first known about
257 years before the Trojan war, or 1580 years before
the Augustan age.
CYBELLICUM Marmor, a name given by the an¬
cients to a species of marble quarried in a mountain of that
name in Phrygia. It was of an extremely bright white,
with broad veins of bluish black.
CYCEON (from xuxauv, to mix or mingle), a name given
by the ancient poets and physicians to a mixture of meal
and water, and sometimes of other ingredients. These
constituted the two kinds of cyceon ; the coarser consist¬
ing of water and meal alone, but the richer and more de¬
licate being composed of wine, honey, flour, water, and
cheese. Homer, in the eleventh book of the Iliad, talks
of cyceon made of cheese and the meal of barley mixed
with wine, but without any mention either of honey or
water; and Ovid, describing the draught of cyceon given
by the old woman of Athens to Ceres, mentions only flour
and water. Dioscorides understood the word in both these
senses; but extolled it most when of the coarse and simple
hind, declaring, that when prepared with water alone, it
refrigerates and nourishes greatly.
CYCINNIS, a Grecian dance, so called from the name
of its inventor, one of the satyrs belonging to Bacchus.
It consisted of a combination of grave and gay movements.
CYCLADES Insulas, islands anciently so called, as
fliny informs us, from the cyclus or orb in which they
were situated, beginning from the promontory Gei’cestum
ln Eubcea, and lying round the island Delos.
Where they are, and what is their number, is not so ge- Cycle
nerally agreed. Strabo says they were at first reckoned II
twelve, but that many others were added; yet most of Cyclops,
them lie to the south of Delos, and but few to the north;
so that the middle or centre, ascribed to Delos, is to be
taken in a loose, and not in a geometrical sense. Strabo
enumerates them after Artemidorus, as follows: Helena,
Ceos, Cynthus, Seriphus, Melus, Siphus, Cimolus, Pre-
pesinthus, Olearus, Naxus, Parus, Syrus, Myconus, Te-
nus, Andrus, Gyarus; but he excludes from the number
Prepesinthus, Olearus, and Gyarus.
CYCLE, in Chronology, a certain period or series of
numbers, which regularly proceed from the first to the
last, and then return again to the first, and so circulate
perpetually.
Cycle of Indiction is a series of fifteen years, returning
constantly, like the other cycles, and commencing from
the third year before Christ; whence it happens, that if
three be added to any given year of Christ, and the sum
be divided by fifteen, what remains is the year of the
indiction.
Cycle of Indiction, a period of fifteen years, in use
among the Romans. It has no connection with the celes¬
tial motions, but was instituted, according to Baronius, by
Constantine, who, having reduced the time which the Ro¬
mans were obliged to serve to fifteen years, was conse¬
quently obliged every fifteen years to impose (indicere,
according to the Latin expression) an extraordinary tax
for the payment of those who were discharged. And
hence arose this cycle, which, from the Latin word in¬
dicere, was styled indiction.
Cycle of the Moon, called also the golden number, and
the Metonic cycle, from its inventor Meton the Athenian,
is a period of nineteen years, on the completion of which
the new moons and full moons return on the same days
of the month; so that on whatever days the new and
full moons fall this year, nineteen years hence they will
happen on the very same days of the month, though not
at the same hour, as Meton and the fathers of the pri¬
mitive church thought; and therefore, at the time of the
council of Nice, when the method of finding the time for
observing the feast of Easter was established, the num¬
bers of the lunar cycle were inserted in the calendar,
which, on account of their excellent use, were set in
golden letters, and the year of the cycle called the gol¬
den number of that year.
Cycle of the Stm, a revolution of twenty-eight years,
ou the elapse of which, the dominical or Sunday letters re¬
turn to their former place, and proceed in the same order
as before, according to the Julian calendar.
CYCLOID, a curve on which the doctrine of pendulums
and chronometrical instruments in a great measure de¬
pends. Mr Huygens demonstrated, that from whatever
point or height a heavy body, oscillating on a fixed centre,
begins to descend, while it continues to move in a cycloid,
the time of its falls or oscillations will be equal to each
other. It is likewise demonstrable, that it is the curve of
quickest descent, that is, a body falling in it from any given
point above, to another not exactly under it, will come to
this point in a less time than in any other curve passing
through those two points. The curve of the cycloid is
thus generated: Suppose a wheel or circle to roll along a
straight line till it has completed just one revolution ; a
nail or point in that part of the circumference of the
circle, which at the beginning of the motion touches the
straight line, will, at the end of the revolution, have de¬
scribed a cycloid on a vertical plane.
CYCLOPAEDIA, or Encyclopaedia, denotes the cir¬
cle or compass of the arts and sciences.
CYCLOPS (from xuxXoj, circulus, and oculus), in
574
C Y M
C Y N
Cyder
fabulous history, the sons of Ccelus and Terra, the prin¬
cipal of whom were Brontes, Steropes, and Peracmon;
Cymbal. ^ thejr number amounted to above a hundred. Jupiter
threw them into Tartarus as soon as they were born ;
but they were delivered at the intercession of Tell us, and
became the assistants of Vulcan. They were supposed to
be of prodigious stature, and to have each only one eye,
placed in the middle of the forehead, whence their name.
The most solid walls and impregnable fortresses were by
the ancients accounted the work of the Cyclops; and the
armour of Jupiter, the shield of Pluto, and the trident of
Neptune, were supposed to have been fabricated by the
same gigantic workmen. Some mythologists, however,
maintain that the Cyclops signify the vapours raised in
the air, which occasion thunder and lightning, and that
on this account they are represented as forging the thun¬
derbolts of Jupiter; while others represent them as the
first inhabitants of Sicily, who were cruel, of a gigantic
stature, and dwellers round Mount iEtna. ...
CYDER, or Cider, a beverage made of the juice of
apples, especially of the more curious table kinds, the juice
of which is esteemed more cordial and pleasant than that
of the wild or harsh kinds.
CYDIAS, an artist who executed a painting of the Ar¬
gonauts in the 11th Olympiad. This celebrated piece was
bought by the orator Hortensius for 164 talents.
C YDNUS, in Ancient Geography, a river of Cilicia, ris¬
ing in Mount Taurus, to the north of Tarsus, through the
middle of which it ran, in a very clear and cold stream,
which had almost proved fatal to Alexander when bathing
in it; and falling into the sea at a place called Rhegma,
a breach where the sea had broken in, afforded the peo¬
ple of Tarsus a station or port for their ships. The water
of the Cydnus is commended by Strabo as of service in
nervous disorders and the gout.
CYDONIA, in Ancient Geography, one of the three
most illustrious cities of Crete, situated in the north-west¬
ern part of the island, with a port locked or walled round.
CYDONIA the Quince, so called from Cydon, a town
of Crete, famous for abounding in this fruit.
CYGNUS, the Swan. See Ornithology.
Cygnus, the Swan, in Astronomy, a constellation of the
northern hemisphere, between Lyra and Cepheus. The
stars in the constellation Cygnus, in Ptolemy’s catalogue,
are nineteen, in Tycho’s eighteen, in Hevelius’s forty-
seven, and in the Britannic catalogue eighty-one.
CYLINDER, in Geometry, a solid body, supposed to be
generated by the rotation of a parallelogram round one of
its sides.
CYLINDROID, in Geometry, a solid body approaching
to the figure of a cylinder, but differing from it in some
respects, such as having the bases elliptical, but parallel
and equal.
Cyma, or Cymatium, in Architecture, a member or
moulding of the cornice, the profile of which is waved,
that is, concave at top and convex at bottom.
CYMBAL (xuppoiXov), a musical instrument in use
among the ancients. The cymbal was made of brass, like
our kettle-drums, and, as some think, in the same form,
but smaller, and of different use. Ovid applies to cym¬
bals the epithet of genialia, because they were used at
weddings and other diversions. Cassiodorus and Isidore
denominate this instrument acetabulum, the name of a cup
or cavity of a bone in which another is articulated; and
Xenophon compares it to a horse’s hoof; whence it must
have been hollow. But, in reality, the ancient cymbals
appear to have been different from our kettledrums, and
their use of another kind ; for to their exterior cavity was
fastened a handle, from which circumstance Pliny compares
them to the upper part of the thigh, and Rabanus to phials.
They were struck against each other in cadence, and made Qn
a very acute sound. Their invention was attributed to Cy-
bele, and hence their use in feasts and sacrifices; but set- Cyv
ting aside this occasion, they were seldom used except by
dissolute and effeminate people. M. Lampe, who has writ¬
ten expressly on the subject, attributes the invention of
these instruments to the Curetes, or inhabitants of Mount
Ida, in Crete; and it is certain they, as well as the Cory,
bantes or guards of the kings of Crete, and those of Rhodes
and Samothracia, were reputed to excel in the music of
the cymbal.
The Jews had their cymbals, or at least instruments
which translators render cymbals; but as to their matter
and form, critics are by no means agreed. The modern
cymbal is a mean instrument, chiefly in use among va¬
grants, gypsies, and such like persons. In consists of steel
wire arranged in a triangular form, whereupon are passed
five rings, which are touched and shifted along the trian¬
gle with an iron rod held in the left hand, while it is sup¬
ported in the right by a ring, to give it the freer motion.
Durandus states that the monks used the word cymbal for
the cloister-bell used to call them to the refectory.
CYMENE, in Botany, a name given by the ancient
Greeks to a plant with which they used to dye woollen
stuffs yellow, and with which the women of those times
used also to tinge the hair yellow, which was then the fa¬
vourite colour. The cymene of the Greeks is evidently the
same plant with the lutea herba of the Latins, or what is
now called dyers' weed.
CYNiEGIRUS, an Athenian, celebrated for his extra¬
ordinary courage. He was the brother of the poet iEschy-
lus. After the battle of Marathon he pursued the flying
Persians to their ships, and seized one of their vessels
with his right hand, which was immediately severed by
the enemy; upon which he seized the vessel with his left
hand, and when he had lost that also, he still held on
with his teeth.
CYNANCHE, in Medicine, a disease, in which the
throat is inflamed and swelled to such a degree as some¬
times to threaten suffocation.
CYNARA, the Artichoke. See Horticulture.
CYNEUS, of Thessaly, a scholar of Demosthenes, who
flourished 275 years before Christ. Pyrrhus having a
high esteem for him, sent him to Rome to solicit a peace;
and so vast was his memory, that the day after his arrival
he saluted all the senators and knights by name. Pyr¬
rhus and he wrote a joint Treatise of War, which has been
quoted by Cicero.
CYNICS, a sect of ancient philosophers, who valued
themselves upon their contempt of riches and state, arts
and sciences, and every thing, in short, except virtue or
morality. _ ...
The cynical philosophers owe their origin and institution
to Antisthenes of Athens, a disciple of Socrates, who be¬
ing asked of what use his philosophy had been to him,
replied, “ It enables me to live with myself.” Diogenes
was the most famous of his disciples, and in the life of
this remarkable person the system of this philosophy ap¬
pears in its greatest perfection. He led a most wretched
life, a tub having served him for a lodging, which he roll¬
ed before him wherever he went. Yet he was neverthe¬
less not the more humble on account of his ragged cloak,
bag, and tub; for one day having entered Plato’s house,
at a time when a splendid entertainment was given there
to several persons of distinction, he jumped upon a rich
couch in all his dirt, saying, “ I trample on the pride ot
Plato.” “ Yes,” replied Plato, “ but with great pride,
Diogenes.” He had the utmost contempt for all the hu¬
man race; for he walked the streets of Athens at noon
day with a lighted lanthorn in his hand, telling the peop e
C Y P
iopb
tis
II
priail
-r
y
that he was in search of a man. Among many excellent
maxims of morality, he held some most pernicious opinions;
for he used to say that the uninterrupted good fortune of
Harpalus, who generally passed for a thief and a robber,
was a testimony against the gods. He regarded chastity
and modesty as weaknesses. Hence Laertius observes of
him, that he did every thing openly, whether it belonged
to Ceres or Venus; but he adds, by way of palliation, that
Diogenes only indulged in an excess of impudence in
order to put others out of conceit of it. But impudence
was the characteristic of the cynical philosophers, who all
argued, that what was right to be done, might be done at
all times, and in all places. The leading principle held
by this sect in common with the Stoics was, that we
should follow nature. But they differed from the Stoics
in their explanation of the maxim; the Cynics being of
opinion that a man followed nature who gratified his na¬
tural inclinations and appetites, whilst the Stoics under¬
stood right reason by the wrord nature.
CYNOPHONTIS, in Antiquity, a festival observed in
the dog days at Argos, and so called aero rouj jfio'as
from killing dogs ; because it was usual on this day to kill
all the dogs that were met withal.
CYNOREXY, an immoderate appetite, to the degree
of a disease, called also fames canina and bulimy.
CYNOSARGES, a place in the suburbs of Athens, so
named from a white or swift dog, who snatched away part
of the sacrifice being offered to Hercules. It had a gym¬
nasium, in which strangers or those of the half blood per¬
formed their exercises; which was the case of Hercules,
to whom the place was consecrated. It had also a court
of judicature to try illegitimacy, and to examine whether
persons were Athenians of the whole or of the half blood.
Here Antisthenes set up a new sect of philosophers call¬
ed Cynics, either from the place, or from the snarling and
impudent disposition of that sect.
CYNOSCEPHALE, in Ancient Geography, a place in
Thessaly, near Scotussa, where the Romans under Q. Fla-
minius gained a great victory over Philip, son of Deme¬
trius, king of Macedon.
CYNOSURA, in Astronomy, a denomination given by
the Greeks to ursa minor, the little bear, by which sailors
steer their course. The word is formed of xuvotrou^a, the
dog’s tail. This is the constellation next our pole, and con¬
sists of seven stars; of which four are disposed like the
lour wheels of a chariot, and three lengthwise represent¬
ing the beam; whence some give it the name of a cha¬
riot, or Charles's wain.
Cynosura, in Mythology, a nymph of Ida, in Crete.
She nursed Jupiter, who changed her into a star bear¬
ing the same name, and which is the same as the ursa
minor.
CYNTHIUS and Cynthia, in Mythology, surnames of
Apollo and Diana, derived from Cynthia, the name of a
mountain in the middle of the island of Delos.
CYPHON, in Antiquity, a kind of punishment used by
the Athenians. It was a collar made of wood, and so
called because it constrained the criminal who had this
punishment inflicted on him to bow down his head.
CYPHONISM (Cyphonismus, from xvtpuv, which has
various significations, derived from xvtpog, crooked), a kind
of torture or punishment in use among the ancients. The
learned are at a loss to determine what it was. Some
will have it to be that mentioned by Jerome in his Life of
Paul the Hermit (chap. 2), which consisted in smearing
the body with honey, and thus exposing the person so be-
paubed, with his hands tied, to the warm sun, in order to
Mvite the flies and other vermin to persecute him.
CYPRIANUS, Thascius C-scilius, a principal father
of the Christian church, was born at Carthage, in Africa,
C Y P
575
about the latter end of the second or beginning of the Cynrianus.
third century. We know nothing of his parents except w-y-w
that they were heathens; and indeed he himself continu¬
ed such till the last twelve years of his life. He applied
himself early to the study of oratory; and some of the an¬
cients, particularly Lactantius, inform us, that he taught
rhetoric in Carthage with the highest applause. Cyprian’s
conversion is supposed biy Pearson to have taken place in
the year 246, and at Carthage, where, as St Jerome ob¬
serves, he had often employed his rhetoric in the defence of
paganism. It was brought about by one Caeciiius, a priest
of the church of Carthage, whose name Cyprian afterwards
adopted, and with whom he ever after maintained so close
a friendship, that Caeciiius at his death committed to Cy¬
prian the care of his family. Cyprian was also himself a
married man; but as soon as he was converted to the
faith he resolved upon observing continence, which was
thought a high degree of piety, as this virtue had not yet
become general. Being now a Christian, he was requir¬
ed to give proof of the sincerity of his conversion by
writing against paganism and in defence of Christianity.
With this view he composed his treatise De Gratia Dei,
concerning the grace of God, which he addressed to Do-
natus. He next composed a piece De Idolorum Vanitate,
on the vanity of idols. Cyprian’s behaviour, both before
and after his baptism, was so highly pleasing to the Bishop
of Carthage, that he ordained him a priest a few months
subsequent to that event. It was rather irregular to or¬
dain a man thus in his very noviciate ; but Cyprian was so
extraordinary a person, and thought capable of doing such
singular service to the church, that it seemed allowable in
this case to dispense a little with the form and discipline
usually observed. For besides his known talents as a se¬
cular man, he had acquired a high reputation for sanctity
since his conversion; having not only separated himself
from his wife, as we have already stated, which in those
days was thought an extraordinary act of piety, but also
assigned all his goods to the poor, and devoted himself
entirely to the things of God. It was on this account, no
doubt, that when the Bishop of Carthage died the year
after, that is, in the year 248, none was judged so wor¬
thy to succeed him as Cyprian. The quiet and repose
which the Christians had enjoyed during the last forty
years had, it seems, greatly corrupted their manners;
and therefore Cyprian's first care, after his advancement
to the bishopric, was to correct disorders and to reform
abuses. Luxury was prevalent among them, and many
of their women were not so strict as they should have
been, especially in the article of dress. This occasioned
him to draw up his piece De Habitu Virginum, concern¬
ing the dress of young women, in which, besides what he
says on the particular head of dress, he inculcates many
lessons of modesty and sobriety. In the year 249, the
Emperor Decius began to issue very severe edicts against
the Christians, which particularly affected those upon the
coast of Africa ; and in the beginning of 250, the heathens
in the circus and amphitheatre of Carthage insisted loudly
upon Cyprian’s being thrown to the lions, a common me¬
thod of destroying the primitive Christians. Upon this
Cyprian withdrew from the church at Carthage, and went
into retirement, in order to avoid the fury of the persecu¬
tions, and in the place of his retreat wrote pious and in¬
structive letters to those who had been his hearers; and
also to the libellatici, a name by which were designated
those pusillanimous Christians who had procured certifi¬
cates from the heathen magistrates bearing that they had
complied with the emperor’s orders in sacrificing to idols.
On his return to Carthage he held several councils con¬
cerning the repentance of those who had fallen during this
persecution, and other points of discipline; he also op-
576
C Y P
C Y R
Cyprus.
posed the schemes of Novatus and Novatianus, and con¬
tended for the rebaptizing of those who had been baptiz¬
ed by heretics. At last he died a martyr, having been
beheaded during the persecution of Valerian and ^ ie-
nus, in 258. Cyprian wrote eighty-one letters and several
treatises, and was one of the first Christian authors who
displayed eloquence. “ He had a mind, says Lactantius,
“ at once subtile and agreeable, and he was rema.’*. a
for great neatness, which is one of the finest qualities of
a discourse. His style was ornate, his expression ea y,
his reasoning forcible and vigorous. He pleased,instruct
ed, persuaded, and did all so well that it would be difficult
to say in which he most excelled.'' The b-t -id. mns of
his works are those of Pamehus, Antwerp, 1568, ol Kigal
tius, Paris, 1648, and of Oxford m 1682. His works have
all been translated into English by Dr Marshall.
CYPRUS, an island situated in the Levant, or most
easterly part of the Mediterranean Sea, between the thir¬
ty-third and thirty-sixth degrees of east longitude, and
the thirty-fifth and thirty-sixth of north latitude. Jn an-
cient times this island was known by the names of Aca-
mis, Cerastis, Aspalia, Amathus, Macana, Cryptos, Colima,
Sphecia, Paphia, Salamima, ^irosa, and Cyprus. The
etymologies of these names are neither very easily found,
nor are they of much importance. The name by which
it was most generally known is that of Cyprus, said to
be derived from cypros, the name of a shrub or tree with
which the island abounds, and which is supposed to be
Cyprus, according to Eratosthenes, was first discoveied
by the Phoenicians, two or three generations before the
days of Asterius and Minos, kings of Crete ; that ^ac¬
cording to Sir Isaac Newton’s computation, about ~U(Jb
years before the Christian era. It was at that time so full
of wood that it could not be tilled, and the Phoenicians first
cut down the wood for smelting the copper, with which
the island abounded ; and afterwards, when they began to
sail without fear on the Mediterranean, that is, after the
Troian war, they built great navies of the wood produced
on this island. Josephus, however, informs us that the
descendants of Cittim or Chittim, the son of Javan, and
grandson of Japhet, were the original inhabitants of Cy¬
prus. According to his account, Chittim, seeing his m o¬
ther Tarshish established in Cilicia, where he built the
city of Tarsus, settled with his followers in the opposite
island; and either he or his descendants laid the foun¬
dation of the city of Chittim, which, according to I to-
lemy, was the most ancient in the island. As Cyprus was
too narrow to contain the great numbers who attended
him, he left there as many as served to people the coun¬
try, and with the rest passed over into Macedonia.
The island of Cyprus was divided among several petty
kings till the time of Cyrus the Great, who subdued them
all, but left each in possession of his kingdom, obliging
them only to pay him an annual tribute, and to send sup¬
plies of men, money, and ships when required. The Cy¬
prian princes lived thus subject to the Persians till the
reign of Darius Hystaspes, when they attempted to shake
off the yoke, but without success, their forces being en¬
tirely defeated, and themselves again obliged to submit.
They made another more successful attempt about the
year before Christ 357 ; but, notwithstanding, they could
never totally free themselves from subjection. It is very
♦ probable that they submitted to Alexander the Great,
though historians are silent as to such an event. On the
death of the Macedonian conqueror, the dominion of Cy¬
prus was disputed by Antigonus, and Ptolemy the son of
Lagus. At last Antigonus prevailed, and the whole island
submitted to him about 304 years before Christ. He and
his son Demetrius kept possession of it for eleven years,
when it was recovered by Ptolemy, and quietly possessed O . ■
by him and his descendants till fifty-eight years before | |tj
Christ, when it was most unjustly seized by the Romans.^ a
In the time of Augustus it began to be ranked amongst ^
the proconsular provinces, and to be governed by magis-
trates sent thither by the senate. In the year 648 it was
conquered by the Saracens, but recovered by the Romans
in 957. The latter, however, held it but for a very short
time, and the barbarians kept possession of it till the time
of the crusades. It was then reduced and given by Rich-
ard I. of England to the princes of the Lusignan family,
who held it till the year 1570, and divided it into twelve
provinces, in each of which was a capital city, from which
the province was denominated. So considerable was the
island at this time, that besides the cities above mention¬
ed, and others of less note, it contained about eight hun¬
dred villages. In 1570 it was taken by the Turks, and,
though it has ever since continued under their yoke, is still
so considerable as to be governed by a beglerbey, and
seven sangiacs under him.
Knights of Cyprus, an order instituted by Guy of Lu¬
signan, titular king of Jerusalem, to whom Richard I. of
England, after conquering this island, made over his
right to it.
CYRANO, Bergerac, a French author, born in Gas¬
cony about the year 1620. He first entered into the army, |
where his natural courage engaged him frequently in
duels, which, together with other rash actions, procured
him the derisive title of the Intrepid ; but the little pro¬
spect he saw of preferment made him renounce the trade
of war for the exercise of wit. His comic histories of the
states and empires in the sun and moon, prove him to have
been well acquainted with the Cartesian philosophy, and
to have had a lively imagination. Lord Orrery classes
him with Swift for his turn of humour, which, he says,
the latter adopted and pursued.
CYRENA1CA, an ancient kingdom of Africa, corre¬
sponding to the present kingdom and desert of Barca and
Tripoli. It was originally inhabited by a number of bar¬
barous nations, differing little from great gangs of robbers.
Afterwards some colonies from Greece settled there, and
Cyrenaica became so powerful a state that it waged war
with E<iypt and Carthage, often with success. In the time
of Darius Hystaspes, Arcesilaus, the reigning prince in
Cyrenaica, was driven from the throne, upon which his
mother Pheretima applied for assistance to the king or
Cyprus. Her son afterwards returning to Barca, the chiet
city of Cyrene, was there assassinated, together with his
father-in-law. Pheretima finding herself disappointed by
the king of Cyprus, applied to Darius Hystaspes, an y
the assistance of the Persians reduced Barca. Here she
behaved with the utmost cruelty, causing all those who
had been concerned in her son’s death to be impaled, and
the breasts of their wives to be cut off and affixed near
them. She is said to have been afterwards devoured by
worms, which was looked upon as a divine ju gmen o
her excessive cruelty. The prisoners in the mean time
were sent to Darius, who settled them in a district of Bac-
tria, from them called Barca. Cyrenaica, however, seems
to have remained free till the time of Alexander t
Great, who conquered it along with Egypt. feooa *
his death the inhabitants recovered their liberty, b
in a short time reduced by Ptolemy, king of • .
der these kings it remained till Ptolemy Phys^on made t
over to his bastard son Apian, who m the 658ta yea .
Rome left it by will to the Romans. The senate pe
ted all the cities to be governed by their own la
this immediately filled the country with tyra jn„
were most potent in every city was
to assume the sovereignty of it. I bus tne King
C Y R
yren i'¬
ll
yril,
'Y
thrown into great confusion ; but Lucullus in a great mea¬
sure restored the public tranquillity on repairing thither
during the first Mithridatic war. It was found impossible,
however, totally to suppress these disturbances until the
country was reduced into the form of a Roman province,
which happened about twenty years after the death of
Apian, and seventy-six before Christ. Upon a revolt, the
city of Cyrene was ruined by the Romans, but they after¬
wards rebuilt it. In process of time it fell into the hands
of the Arabs, and then into those of the Turks, who are
still the nominal masters of it.
CYRENAICS, a sect of ancient philosophers, so called
from their founder Aristippus of Cyrene, a disciple of
Socrates.
The great principle of their doctrine was, that the su¬
preme good of man in this life is pleasure ; by which they
not only meant privation of pain, and tranquillity of mind,
but an assemblage of all mental and sensual pleasures,
particularly the latter.
Cicero makes frequent mention of Aristippus’ school,
and speaks of it as producing debauchees. Three disci¬
ples of Aristippus, after his death, divided the sect into
three branches, under which division it languished and
sunk; the first called the Hegesiac school, the second the
Annicerian, and the third the Theodoran, from the names
of their authors.
CYRENE, in Ancient Geography, the capital of Cyre-
naica, and one of the cities called Pentapolis, distant from
Apollonia, its sea-port, ten miles, and, according to Stra¬
bo, situated on a plain, of the form of a table.
CYRIL, St, bishop of Jerusalem, born in that city
about the year 315, succeeded Maximus in 350. He was
afterwards deposed for the crime of exposing to sale the
treasures of the church, and applying the money to the
support of the poor during a great famine. Under Julian
he was restored to his see, and was firmly established in
all his old honours and dignities under Theodosius, in
which he continued unmolested till his death, which hap¬
pened in 386. The remains of this father consist only
of twenty-three catecheses, and one letter to the Emperor
Constantius.
Cyril, St, patriarch of Alexandria, succeeded Theophi-
lus, his uncle, in 412. Scarcely was he installed when he
began to exert his authority with great rigour, and drove
the Novatians and Jews from Alexandria, permitting their
wealth and synagogues to be taken from them. This pro¬
ceeding highly displeased Orestes, then governor of the
city, who saw that if the bishop’s authority were not soon
suppressed, it might grow too strong for that of the magis¬
trate. Upon this a kind of civil war broke out between
Orestes and the bishop; many tumults were raised, and
some battles fought in the very streets of Alexandria.
Cyril also distinguished himself by his zeal against Nes-
torius, bishop of Constantinople, who in some of his homi¬
lies had, with great propriety, asserted that the Virgin
Mary ought not to be called the mother of God. The
dispute at first proved unfavourable to Cyril, whose opi¬
nion was not only condemned, but he was himself depriv¬
ed of his bishopric and thrown into prison. He was soon
afterwards released, however, and gained a complete vic¬
tory over Nestorius, who, in 431, was deposed from his
see of Constantinople. Cyril returned to his see at Con¬
stantinople, where he died in 444. He also wrote against
Theodoras of Mopsuesta, Diodorus of Tarsus, and Julian
the Apostate. He composed commentaries on Isaiah and
the twelve lesser prophets, and on St John’s gospel, and
wrote several other books, consisting of apologies, anathe-
Riatisms, dialogues, canonical letters, homilies, and a trea¬
tise on adoration. His works were published in Greek
and Latin in 1638, in six volumes folio.
VOL. VII.
C Y R 577
CYRUS, the son of Cambyses the Persian, by Mandane,
the daughter of Astyages, king of the Medes. The two
principal historians who have written the life of Cvrus
are Herodotus and Xenophon; but their accounts differ,
inasmuch as the latter represents his father as a king of
Persia, and the former as a meaner man. The account of
Herodotus indeed contains narratives which are much more
strange and surprising, and consequently more diverting
and agreeable to the reader; and for this reason he has
been more followed than Xenophon.
Herodotus informs us, that Astyages, king of the Medes,
having dreamed that a vine sprung from the womb of his
daughter Mandane, the branches of which overshadowed
all Asia, consulted the soothsayers, when he was told that
his dream portended the future power and greatness of a
child which should be born of his daughter, and further,
that the same child would deprive him of his kingdom. In
order to prevent the accomplishment of this prediction,
Astyages, instead of marrying his daughter to some pow¬
erful prince, gave her hand to Cambyses, a Persian of
mean condition, and one who had no great capacity for
forming any important design, or for supporting the am¬
bition of his son by his own riches and authority. But
Astyages did not stop here. The apprehension he labour¬
ed under lest Mandane’s son might perhaps find that as¬
sistance in his own courage, or in some fortunate circum¬
stance which his family was unable to supply him withal,
induced him to take the resolution of dispatching the child,
if there should be any of the marriage. As soon, there¬
fore, as he understood that his daughter was pregnant,
he commanded one of his officers, named Harpagus, to de¬
stroy the infant whenever it came into the world. But
Harpagus, dreading the resentment of Mandane, put the
child into the hands of one of the king’s shepherds, with
orders to expose him. The shepherd’s wife, however, was
so extremely touched with the beauty of Cyrus, that she
desired her husband rather to expose her own son, who
was born some time before, and to preserve the young
prince. In this manner Cyrus was saved from an early
death, and brought up among the king’s shepherds.
One day, as the neighbouring children were at play to¬
gether, Cyrus was chosen king; and having punished with
some severity one of his little playfellows for disobeying
his commands, was complained of to Astyages by the pa¬
rent of the child. The prince sent for Cyrus, and observ¬
ing something great in his air, manner, and behaviour, to¬
gether with a great resemblance to his daughter Mandane,
made particular inquiry into the matter, and discovered
that, in reality, Cyrus was no other than his own grand¬
son. Harpagus, who had been the instrument of preserv¬
ing him, was punished with the death of his own son;
but Astyagqs believing that the royalty which the sooth¬
sayers had promised to the young prince was only that
which he had lately exercised among the shepherd’s child¬
ren, troubled himself no more about the matter. When
Cyrus had grown up, however, Harpagus disclosed to him
the whole secret of his birth, together with the manner in
which he had delivered him from the cruel resolution of
his grandfather; encouraged him to go into Media, and
promised to furnish him with forces, in order to make him
master of the country, and to depose Astyages. Cyrus
hearkened to these propositions, engaged the Persians to
take up arms against the Medes, marched at their head to
meet Astyages, defeated him, and possessed himself of
Media. He also carried on many other wars; and at
length sat down before Babylon, which, after a long siege,
surrendered to his arms.
The relation given of the life of Cyrus by Xenophon,
in his philosophical romance, is, however, very different.
According to him, Astyages, king of Media, married his
4 D
Cyrus.
C Y R
daughter Mandane to Cambyses, king of Persia, son of
Achsemenes, king of the same nation. Cyrus was born at
his father’s court, and was educated with all the care which
his birth required. When he was about the age of twelve
years, his grandfather Astyages sent for him to Media, to¬
other with his mother Mandane; and ^me time after¬
wards, the king of Assyria’s son having invaded Media,
Astyages, with his son Cyaxares and his gran y >
marched against him. Cyrus distinguished Mmself in
this war, and defeated the Assyrians. Cambyses after
wards recalled him, that he might have .him near his own
person; and Astyages dying, his son Cyaxares uncle of
Cyrus by the mother’s side, succeeded him in the king
dom of Media. . , u,. ujc father
At the age of thirty Cyrus was appointed, by his tat
Cambyses, general of the Persian troops ; and sent at the
head of 30,000 men to the assistance of his uncle Cyax¬
ares, whom the king of Babylon, with his allies th(: Cap¬
padocians, Carians, Phrygians, Cihcians, and Paphlag
nians were preparing to attack. But Cyaxares and Cyrus
prevented them, by falling upon them and dispersing
them Cyrus advanced as far as Babylon, and spread
error throughout the whole country. From this expedi¬
tion he retired towards the frontiers of Armenia and As¬
syria, and was received by Cyaxares m the tent of the
Assyrian king, whom he had defeated.
After this Cyrus carried the war into the countries be¬
yond the river Halys, and having entered Cappadocia,
entirely subdued that country. From thence he marched
against Croesus, king of Lydia, defeated him in the first
battle, then besieged him in Sardis, his capital, and, alter
a siege of fourteen days, obliged him to surrender. (See
Criesus.) After this, Cyrus having reduced almost all
Asia, repassed the Euphrates, and made war upon the
Assyrians. He marched directly to Babylon, took it, and
there prepared a palace for the reception of his uncle Cy¬
axares. After all these expeditions, Cyrus returned to his
father and mother in Persia, where they were still living;
and having gone some time afterwards to visit his uncle
Cyaxares into Media, he married his cousin, the only
daughter and heiress of all Cyaxares’s dominions, and went
with her to Babylon, whence he sent men of the first rank
and quality to govern the various nations which he had
conquered. He engaged again in several wars, and sub¬
dued all the countries situated between Syria and the Ked
Sea. He died at the age of seventy, after a reign of thirty
years; but authors differ very much concerning the man¬
ner of his death. Herodotus, Justin, and Valenus Maxi¬
mus state that he died in the war against the Scythians;
and that having fallen into an ambush which Queen domy-
ris had laid for him, she ordered his head to be cut off, and
cast into a vessel full of blood, saying, “ Ihoq hast always
thirsted after human blood, now glut thyself with it.
Diodorus says that he was taken in an engagement and
hanged ; while Ctesias assures us that he died of a wound
which he had received in his thigh ; but by Xenophon’s
account he died peaceably in his bed, amidst his friends
and his servants; and certain it is, that in Alexander s
time his monument was shown at Pasagarda, in Persia.
From all this it is easy to conclude, that we are but im¬
perfectly acquainted with the history of this great prince,
the founder of the Persian and the destroyer of the Chal¬
dean empire. We learn fewer particulars of it from Scup-
ture, but then these are more certain than any that we have
produced. Daniel, in the famous vision in which God
showed him the ruin of several great empiies, which weie
to precede the birth of the Messiah, represents Cyi us under
the idea of a ram which had two horns. I he ram s horns
signify the two empires which Cyrus united in his peison,
namely, that of the Medes, and that of the Persians, which
C Y R
was greater and more powerful than the empire of the Cr
Medes ; or otherwise, these horns signify the two branches Ws,v
of Cyrus’s successors. His son Cambyses having died, the
empire was transferred to Darius, the son of Hystaspes,
and was continued down to Darius Codomannus, who, as
Calmet thinks, is the great horn which the he-goat, denot¬
ing Alexander, run against. Daniel also compares Cyrus
to a bear, with three ribs in the mouth of it, to which it
was said, “ Arise, devour much flesh.” Cyrus succeeded
his father Cambyses in the kingdom of Persia, and Darius
the Mede (by Xenophon called Cyaxares, and Astyages
in the apocryphal chapter of Daniel) in the kingdom of
the Medes and the empire of Babylon. He was monarch
of all the East, or, as it is said, “ of all the earth,” when
he permitted the Jews to return to their own country, in
the year of the world 3466, and before Jesus Christ 538.
The enemies of the Hebrews, having availed themselves of
this prince’s affection to his own religion, prevailed on him
to put a stop to the building of the temple at Jerusalem.
The prophets frequently foretold the coming of Cyrus;
and Isaiah has been so particular as to declare his name
two hundred years before he was born. Josephus says,
that the Jews of Babylon showed this passage of the pro¬
phet to Cyrus; and that the prince, in the edict which he
granted them for their return, acknowledged that he had
received the empire of the world from the God'of Israel.
Cyrus is pointed out in Scripture under the name of the
righteous man and the shepherd of Israel. Archbishop
Usher fixes the birth of Cyrus in the year of the world
3405, his first year at Babylon in 3466, and his death in
3475.
Cyrus II. was the younger son of Darius Nothus and
of Parysatis, and the brother of Artaxerxes. He was sent
by his father, at the age of sixteen, to assist the Lacedae¬
monians against the Athenians. Artaxerxes succeeded
to the throne at the death of Nothus; and Cyius, vvho
was of an aspiring soul, attempted to assassinate him.
But he was discovered, and would have been punished
with death, had not his mother Parysatis saved him from
the hands of the executioner by her tears and entreaties.
This circumstance did not in the least check the ambi¬
tion of Cyrus; he was appointed satrap of Lydia and ot
Asia Minor, where he secretly fomented rebellion, and
levied troops under various pretences. At last he took
the field with an army of one hundred thousand barba¬
rians, and thirteen thousand Greeks, under the command
of Clearchus ; and Artaxerxes met him with nine hundred
thousand men near Cunaxa. The battle was long and
bloody, and Cyrus might perhaps have obtained the vic¬
tory, had not his uncommon rashness proved his ruin. K
is said that the two royal brothers met in person, and that
their engagement ended in the death of Cyrus, four hun¬
dred and one years before the Augustan age. Artaxerxes
was so anxious to have it universally reported that his
brother had fallen by his hand, that he put to death wo
of his subjects for boasting that they had killed Cyrus.
The Greeks who were engaged in the exPedltlJnf°pta ’
ed much glory in the battle, and after the death of Cyrus
they remained victorious in the field without a commander.
Though at the distance of above six hundred leagues from
their country, and surrounded on every side by a powe -
ful enemy, they were not discouraged. Having united
the election of commanders, they traversed all Asm, i
spite of the continual attacks ot the Persians;.a"d "S
is more truly celebrated in ancient history < ;ounrey
and masterly retreat of the Ten I housand. J ^
which they made from the time ^1.
till their return has been calculated at ^ league ,
formed in the space of fifteen months, mduding the tim^
devoted to rest and refreshment. This retreat ha
C Z A
celebrated by Xenophon, who was one of the leaders of
his countrymen, and the friend and supporter of Cyrus.
CYSTIC, m Anatomy, a name given to two arteries and
1 two veins.
CYTHEREA, in Mythology, the surname of Venus, so
called from Cythera, an island where she had a temple
esteemed the most ancient in Greece, and on the shores
of which she was believed to he borne by the Zephyrs,
surrounded by the Loves, the Tritons, and Nereides, re¬
clining in a languishing posture in a sea-shell. The name
of Cytheriades is given to the Graces which attended her
on the shore without quitting her except when she chose
rather to be waited upon by the Pleasures.
CYZICENS, Cyzicena, among the ancient Greeks, were
a sort of magnificent banqueting houses, always looking
towards the north, and usually opening upon gardens.
They had their name from Cyzicus, a city considerable for
the grandeur of its buildings, and situated in an island of
Mysia bearing the same name.
CYZICUM, or Cyzicus, in Ancient Geography, a noble
city of Asia Minor, situated in an island of the same name
in Propontis, on the coast of Mysia.
CZAR, a title of honour assumed by the grand dukes,
or, as they are now styled, emperors of Russia.
The natives pronounce it tzar, tsar, or zaar; and this,
it has been supposed, by corruption from Caesar. But this
etymology does not seem correct. When the Czar Peter
formerly required of the European courts an acknowledg¬
ment of his imperial titles, and that the appellation of Em¬
peror should never be omitted, there was great difficulty
made about it, especially at the court of Vienna ; a circum¬
stance which led him to produce the famous letter, written
in German, from Maximilian I. emperor of Germany, to
Vassili Ivanovitch, confirming a treaty of alliance offensive
and defensive against Sigismund, king of Poland. In this
dispatch, which is dated the 4th of August 1514, and is
ratified with the seal of the golden bull, Maximilian ad¬
dresses Vassili by the titles Kayser and Herrscher aller
Russen, emperor and ruler of all the Russias. But indepen¬
dently of this document, there could be no doubt that the
foreign courts, in their intercourse with that of Moscow,
styled the sovereigns indiscriminately Great Duke, Czar,
and Emperor. With respect to England, in particular, it is
certain that, in Chancellor’s Account of Russia, published
as early as the middle of the sixteenth century, Ivan Vas-
silievitch II. is called Lord and Emperor of all Russia ; and
in the English dispatches, from the reign of Elizabeth to
that of Anne, he is generally addressed under the same ap¬
pellation. When the European powers, however, styled the
czar Emperor of Muscovy, they by no means intended to
give him a title similar to that which was peculiar to the
emperor of Germany; but they bestowed upon him that
appellation as upon an Asiatic sovereign, in the same man¬
ner as we now speak of the emperors of China and Japan.
When Peter, therefore, determined to assume the title of
emperor, he found no difficulty in proving that it had
! been conferred upon his predecessors by most of the Eu¬
ropean powers; yet when he was desirous of affixing to
the term the European sense, it was considered as an in¬
novation, and was productive of more negotiations than
would have been requisite for the termination of the most
important state affair. At the same time it occasioned a
curious controversy among the learned concerning the
rise and progress of the titles by which the monarchs of
the country in question have been distinguished. From
their researches it appeared that the early sovereigns of
Russia were called great dukes; that Vassili Ivanovitch was
probably the first who styled himself tzar, an expression
which in the Sclavonian language signifies king ; and that
his successors continued to bear, within their own domi-
C Z O 579
mons, that title as the most honourable appellation, until Czarnikau
Peter the Great first assumed that of Povelitel, or emperor. II
After many delays and objections, the principal courts of ^zort^ow'
Europe consented, about the year 1722, to address the
sovereign of Russia by the title of Emperor, without pre¬
judice, nevertheless, to the other crowned heads of Europe.
CZARNIKAU, a circle in the Prussian government of
Posen, extending over 616 square miles, and containing
five towns or cities, and 29,363 inhabitants. The chief
place, which bears the same name, stands on the river
Nesse, and contains 307 houses, with 2252 inhabitants.
CZASLAU, a circle of the Austrian kingdom of Bohe¬
mia, bounded by the circles of Chrudim .and Tabor. It
extends over 1300 square miles, and comprehends nine
cities, thirty-three market-towns, and 834 villages. In
1817 the number of houses was 30,390, and of inhabitants
187,120. It is in part watered by the Upper Elbe, and by
the Dobrawa, which falls into that river. Towards Mo¬
ravia the country is mountainous, but in the other parts
only undulating; and the soil is fruitful, yielding good crops
of corn and flax. In the hills are found silver and iron,
and the woods afford great abundance of game.
Czaslau, a city of Bohemia, the chief place of the
circle of the same name, about twenty-five miles east of
Prague. It contains 2560 inhabitants, and 283 houses. In
the cathedral is a monument to the memory of Zisca, the
leader of the Hussite reformers, who was buried there.
CZERNOWITZ, a circle in the Austrian kingdom of
Gallicia, formerly known by the name of Bucowina. It
was anciently a part of Moldavia, but transferred to Aus¬
tria in 1777. It extends over 3400 square miles, or
2,180,000 English acres. In 1817 the population amount¬
ed to 201,319, in 41,864 families, of which 915 were Jews.
It comprehends three cities, three market-towns, and 274
villages. The inhabitants are principally of the Wallachian
or Moldavian race, and mostly adhere to the Greek church ;
but there are also Armenian, Hungarian, and German
settlers, besides the Jews. The face of the country, be¬
ing a continuation of the Carpathian range, is mountain¬
ous, and much of it is covered with woods. Many of the
valleys are highly fertile, and yield excellent corn, po¬
tatoes, flax, hemp, and garden fruits. The principal tree
is the beech, from which the province received its ancient
name. The district is rich in mineral products, affording
gold from the sands of the river Bistritza, and from various
mines silver, lead, copper, iron, and rock salt. The chief
manufactures are of the several minerals, and of potash,
corn, spirits, and leather. Under the house of Austria the
district has much improved, owing to good roads having
been opened through it, connecting Gallicia with Hungary.
Czernowitz, a city, the capital of the circle of the
same name, in the Austrian province of Gallicia. It is
situated on the river Pruth, and has a Greek cathedral,
and several other churches, both for Catholics and Greeks.
It is the seat of the courts of law, and of several esta¬
blishments of education. It contains about 500 houses,
and in 1817 the population amounted to 5460 persons. It
has manufactories of gold and silver wares, watchmaking,
and some others, and carries on a trade between Hungary
and Gallicia, which is chiefly in the hands of the Jews.
Long. 48. 25. 10. E. Lat. 48. 25. 40. N.
CZORTKOW, a circle in the Austrian kingdom of Gal¬
licia, in the eastern frontier, bordering on the Russian ter¬
ritory. Its extent is about 1450 square miles. It com¬
prehends three cities, nineteen market-towns, and 242 vil¬
lages. It contained, in 1817, 30,829 houses, and 149,488
inhabitants, of whom 7226 were Jews. Its rivers run by
the Dniester into the Black Sea. It is a fertile district,
abounding in wheat, maize, pulse, tobacco, aniseed, honey,
wax, cattle, and all kinds of fruit.
580
D
II
Dacca
Jelalpore.
D A C
D A C
Jelaii
D
D
THE fourth letter of the alphabet, and the third
— } consonant. Grammarians generally reckon D among
the lingual letters, supposing the tongue to have the P1™-
cipal share in its pronunciation ; though the Abbe de
Dangeau is rather inclined to regard it as a palate letter.
The letter D is the fourth in the Hebrew, Chaldee, Sa¬
maritan, Syriac, Greek, and Latin alphabets; in all ot
which languages except the last it has the same name,
though somewhat differently spoken, name y, m Hebrew,
Samaritan, and Chaldee, Daleth or Dhaleth, in Syriac
Doleth, and in Greek Delta. The form of our D .s the
same with that of the Latins, as appears from oil the an-
cient medals and inscriptions, and the Latin D is no other
than the Greek A, with the angle on the left hand round¬
ed off into a curve. The A of the Greeks, again, is borrow¬
ed from the ancient character of the Hebrew Daleth ;
which form it still retains, as is shown by Souciet, in
his Dissertation on the Samaritan Medals.
D is sometimes put for the aspirate Hi, as Theos, Deus ;
sometimes it is converted into B, as Duellum, Bellum, Duel-
lona, Bellona. It has also an affinity with T, as Quinti¬
lian has observed (lib. i. c. 4); and hence, anciently, we
meet with Alexanter and Cassantra, for Alexander and
Cassandra, and, vice versa, quodannis and adque fov quot-
annis and atque. In like manner, it is interchanged with
R for the sake of euphony, as in mendies for medidies. In
praenomens D stands for Decimus, and in the titles of em¬
perors, for Dims. It is also a numeral letter, representing
five hundred. This arises from the circumstance that the
letter D is analogous in form to ID, the half of CID, which
is the Roman numeral expression for a thousand. vV ith a
dash placed on the top thus, D, its value is increased ten¬
fold, or, in other words, it stands for five thousand. Used
as an abbreviation, D has various significations, for which
see article Abbreviations. _ ,
DABER, a town, formerly a city, of Prussian Pome¬
rania, situated between the two lakes Daber and leetz.
Its walls are in ruins ; but it has some cloth manufactures,
and about 1000 inhabitants. It is the chief place of a
circle of the same name, extending over 231 square miles,
or 147,840 English acres, comprehending two cities and
fifty-one villages, with 16,238 inhabitants.
DABRINGSHAUSEN, a town in the Prussian pro¬
vince of Westphalia, in the government of Westphalia,
with some very considerable iron-works, which afford em¬
ployment to the population, amounting, in 1817, to 4044
persons, but since much increased.
DABUL, a town of Hindustan, on the coast of Concan,
in the province of Bejapoor, which was sacked by the Por¬
tuguese in 1509, but was afterwards re-taken by the na¬
tives. Its principal trade consists in pepper and salt. It
is eighty miles south from Bombay. Long. 72. 53. E.
Lat. 17. 45. N. . .
DACCA Jelalpore, an extensive and rich district in
the eastern quarter of the province of Bengal, situated
principally between the twenty-third and twenty-fourth
degrees of north latitude. It is bounded on the north by
Mymunsingh, on the south by Tipperah and Backergunge,
on the east by Tipperah, and on the west by Rajshahy and
Jessore. Prior to the arrangement adopted in 1800, by
which this province was separated from the Backergunge
jurisdiction, it was one of the largest and most valuable in
Bengal, stretching as far south as the sea, and reaching
north to the Garrow Mountains. The country is divided
into a great number of valuable zemindaries or estates,
and is extremely productive in rice, being esteemed the
granary of Bengal. It is intersected by the Ganges and
Brahmaputra, two of the largest rivers in the world,
which, with their branches crossing the country in all di-
rections, form a complete inland navigation, every town
and village having its canal or river, and the general mode
of travelling or conveying goods being by water. By the
confluence of these two great rivers rushing impetuously
to the sea, great changes are often made in the boundaries
of estates, the river encroaching on some parts and aban¬
doning others. Hence it almost invariably happens that
as much is gained on one side as is lost on the other by
the operation of the current and the opposing tides; whilst
repeated overflowings, with rich deposits of mould wash¬
ed down by the stream, give extraordinary fertility to the
extensive inundated borders of the river. But notwith¬
standing this advantage, there is no district in Bengal
where there is a greater quantity of waste land, the whole
of which is claimed by individuals who, though they do not
cultivate it themselves, always exact a recompense for the
use of it from others. Rice is the great staple product of
the land, of which the abundance and cheapness is extra¬
ordinary, being sold in years of plenty at the rate of 640
lbs. per rupee. Its other productions are betel nut; a spe¬
cies of cotton necessary to form the stripes ot the finest
muslins, for which the city ot Dacca has long been cele¬
brated ; and also tobacco. t .
This province is distinguished for its various and ex¬
tensive fabrics of cotton. It has manufactures of plain
as well as flowered, striped, or chequered muslins; and
the beautiful fabrics of Dacca surpass in fineness the
produce of anv other country. Yet the natives assert
that the art has fallen off, and that when the Mogul court
was in full splendour, pieces were made so fine that they
could only be woven under water, and when spread on
the grass could scarcely be distinguished from the morn¬
ing dew. But the demand for these finer muslins has
now fallen off so much, that many of the families who
possess by hereditary instruction the art of making these
fabrics, have desisted, on account of the difficulty which
they experience in finding a market for them. In many
parts of India the native fabrics are rivalled by the ma¬
nufactures of Britain, which being chiefly the produce ok
machinery, can, after bearing the expense of a long voy¬
age, be sold cheaper in India than the produce ot domes¬
tic industry. Dimities of various kinds and patterns, ana
cloths resembling diaper and damask linen, are also made.
The export of all these articles has, however, greatly de¬
creased. This country is entirely alluvial, and in tne
rainy season is mostly overflowed, exhibiting t e app
ance of an inland sea, with towns and villages rising ou
of the water. The principal towns of this district are
Dacca, Narraingunge, Sunergong, and Rajanagur.
ring the Mahommedan government this district was
by a deputy of the nabob, called the naib nazim.
last person who held the office was Jessarut >
having been ordered by Cossim Ah Khan in the V
1763 to put all the English at Dacca to death, ve y
manely sent them under the protection of a ius y g
D A C
D A C
581
to Calcutta, for which service he afterwardf received a
'pension, which was continued to his descendants. The
population is estimated at about one million, the majority
of whom are Mahommedans.
Dacca, the capital of the above district, a large city, and
for eighty years the capital of Bengal, of which it is still the
third city in point of extent and population. It is situated
beyond the principal stream of the Ganges, on the north¬
ern bank of a very large branch of that river, called the
Boor Gunga, or Old Ganges, at the distance of a hundred
miles from the mouth of the Ganges, or four hundred
by the winding course of the river. Its position is admir¬
ably well adapted for inland trade, as the river which flows
past it communicates with all the other inland navigations
by a direct course. Dacca succeeded to Sunergong as
the provincial capital of the eastern quarter of Bengal.
The present town covers a great deal of ground, extend¬
ing, if the suburbs be included, six miles along the banks
of the river, though it is not of proportional breadth. The
houses of the wealthy are built of brick, but there are
many thatched houses, with very narrow and crooked
streets; the bazars are only tiled or thatched ; and as every
vacant spot is covered with trees, the town looks from a dis¬
tance like a grove. The ancient citadel was situated on
the western side of the town ; but it is now in ruins, great
part of the wall having been washed away by the river.
An extensive and magnificent palace, built by Azim
Ushaun, Aurungzebe’s grandson, who resided here towards
the end of the seventeenth century, is also in ruins.
In Dacca and the vicinity are manufactured the most
beautiful muslins, which are exported to all quarters of
the world, and which have been long famed for their deli¬
cacy and beauty. The same violent heats do not prevail
here as in Benares, Patna, and other places in Bahar.
This is owing to the low lying situation of the surround¬
ing country, which is always covered with verdure, even
during the dry months. The unhealthy season is in au¬
tumn, from the 20th of August to the 10th of October,
when the rivers and the inundation are subsiding. During
the remainder of the year the city and its vicinity is salubri¬
ous and pleasant, though the climate is more relaxing than
that of the northern or western provinces.
Dacca is comparatively a modern city, its name not
being mentioned in the Ayeen Acberry In 1008 the seat
of government was removed from Rajemul to the city of
Dacca; and in compliment to the reigning emperor, Je-
hangire, its name was changed to Jehangire Nuggur.
During the Mogul government, a large establishment of
war and state boats, consisting of 768 armed cruizers, was
maintained at Dacca, for the purpose of defending the
country against the Mughs and the people of Assam, and
occasionally to add splendour to the ceremonies of reli¬
gion or the parade of the court. For the support of this
marine the land revenue of several districts was assigned,
amounting to about L.45,000 per annum; the gunners
belonging to it were principally Portuguese, of whose de-
i scendants a number still reside in the town and neigh¬
bourhood.
The houses of Dacca being formed of combustible ma¬
terials, it suffers frequently by conflagrations, which, when
they break out, as they do once or twice a year, spread
rapidly. The inhabitants look with the utmost indiffer¬
ence on the destruction of their habitations, and throwing
the few valuables which they possess into earthen pots
sunk in the floor, they easily procure mats, thatch, and
bamboos, which are abundant, and soon replace their
houses in their former condition. There was formerly at
Dacca one of those curious and enormously large guns
which were to be seen in the Deccan and in the south of
India, which weighed 64,814 pounds, and which would
have required a ball weighing 465 pounds. This city still
continues very populous; the number of its inhabitants
exceeds 150,000, of whom more than one half are follow¬
ers of Mahommed. It is the head-quarters of the court
of circuit for the eastern division of Bengal. Travelling
distance from Delhi 1107 miles. Long. 90. 17. E. Lat.
23. 42. N.
DACHAU, a bailiwick in the circle of the Isar, in the
kingdom of Bavaria. It extends over 264 square miles, or
168,960 English acres, and contains 21,556 inhabitants,
in two towns, 142 villages, and a great number of single
farms and gentlemen’s houses. The greater part of the
district is of moderate fertility, and watered by the rivers
Amber, Maisach, and Glow; but there is an extensive
moor, which, in spite of efforts to cultivate it by colonists,
still remains in an unproductive state. The capital is of
the same name, and contains only 1100 inhabitants.
DACIA, in Ancient Geography, a country which Tra¬
jan, who reduced it into the form of a province, joined to
Mcesia by a bridge. This country extended between the
Danube and Carpathian Mountains, and from the river
Tibiscus to the mouth of the Danube and to the Euxine;
on the north side, next the Carpates, it was terminated
by the river Hierasus, now the Pruth, and on the west
by the Tibiscus or Teiss; and it comprehended a part of
Upper Hungary, all Transylvania and Wallachia, and a
part of Moldavia. There was a Dacia Aureliana, part of
Illyricum, which was divided into the eastern and western,
Sirmium being the capital of the latter, and Sardica of the
former; but this belonged to the lower age.
DACIER, Andrew, keeper of the books of the king’s
cabinet, and member of the French Academy and also of
that of Inscriptions and Belles-lettres, was born at Castres
on the 6th April 1651. He had a great genius and incli¬
nation for learning, and studied at Saumur under Tanne-
guy Le Fevre, who was then engaged in the instruction
of his daughter, who afterwards proved an honour to her
sex under the name of Madame Dacier, and with whom
her future husband was associated in study. This gave
rise to that mutual tenderness which a marriage of forty
years could not weaken. The Duke of Montausier hear¬
ing of his merit, put him in the list of commentators for
the use of the Dauphin, and engaged him in an edition of
Pomponius Festus, which he published in 1681. His edi¬
tion of Horace, printed at Paris in ten volumes 12mo, and
his other works, procured him a great reputation. He was
made a member of the Academy of Inscriptions in 1695.
When the history of Louis XIV. by medals had been finish¬
ed, he was chosen to present it to his majesty; who being
informed of the pains which he had bestowed on it, settled
upon him a pension of 2000 livres, and appointed him
keeper of the books of the king’s cabinet in the Louvre.
When that post was united to the office of library-keeper
to the king, he was not only continued in the privilege of
his place during life, but the survivorship thereof was
granted to his wife, a favour of which there had been no
instance before. But the death of Madame Dacier in
1720 rendered this grant, which was so honourable to
her, ineffectual. Her husband died on the 18th Septem¬
ber 1722, of an ulcer in the throat. In his manners, sen¬
timents, and whole conduct, he was a complete model of
that ancient philosophy of which he was so great an ad¬
mirer, and which he improved by the rules and principles
of Christianity.
M. Dacier published successively, l. The Works of
Horace, Paris, 1681, in 10 vols. 12mo; 2. The Moral Re¬
flections of the Emperor Marcus Antoninus, with remarks,
and a life of the imperial moralist, Paris, 1690, in 2 vols.
12mo ; 3. The Poetics of Aristotle, translated into French,
with notes, Paris, 1692, 4to and 12mo; 4. The (Edipus
582
D A C
Dacier-
and Electra of Sophocles, with notes, Paris, 1692, in one
vol 12mo ; 5. Plutarch's Lives, translated into french,
with notes, Paris, 1696, 4to; 6. The Works of Htppo-
crates, translated into French, with notes, Pans, 1697, in
2 vols. 12mo; 7. The Works of Plato, translated into
French, Paris, 1699, in 2 vols. 12mo; 8. The Life of Py¬
thagoras, with his symbols and golden verses, with the
Life of Hierocles, and his Commentary on the Colden
Verses, Paris, 1706, 12mo; 9. The Manual of Epictetus,
with a translation and notes, Paris, 1715, in 2 vols.
Dacieu, Anne Lefevre, daughter of Tanneguy Letevre,
professor of Greek at Saumur, in France. ie eay 7
showed a fine genius, which her father cultivated w t
• great care and satisfaction. After his death she went to
Paris, whither her fame had already preceded her. She was
then preparing an edition of Callimachus, w uc i ^ 16 P
fished in 1674. Having shown some sheets ot it to M.
Huet, preceptor to the dauphin, and to several other men
of learning at the court, the work was so highly admired,
that the Duke of Montausier made a proposal to her ot
publishing several Latin authors for the use of the dau¬
phin She at first rejected this proposal, as a task to
which she was not equal; but the duke insisting upon it,
he at last gained her consent, and she undertook an edi¬
tion of Florus, which was published in 1674. Her repu¬
tation being now diffused over all Europe, Christina, queen
of Sweden, ordered Count Konigsmark to compliment her
in the name of his mistress; upon which Mademoiselle
Lefevre sent the queen a Latin letter, with her edition ot
Florus, to which her majesty wrote an obliging answer,
and not long afterwards wrote another letter to persuade
her to abandon the Protestant religion, and to settle at
the Swedish court. In 1683 she married M. Dacier, upon
which occasion it was pleasantly remarked that this was the
marriage of the Greek and the Latin ; and she soon after¬
wards declared her design to the Duke of Montausier and
the Bishop of Meaux, of reconciling herself to the church
of Rome, which she had entertained for some time; but
as M. Dacier was not yet convinced of the reasonableness
of such a change, they retired in 1684 to Castres, where
they had a small estate, in order to examine the points of
controversy between the Protestants and the Roman Ca¬
tholics. They at last determined in favour of the latter,
and made a public abjuration of Protestantism in 1685.
After this,, the king gave both the husband and wife
marks of his favour. In 1693 she applied herself to the
education of her son and daughter, who made great pro¬
gress ; but the son died in 1694, and the daughter became
a nun in the abbey of Longchamp. Madame Dacier had
another daughter, who united in her all the virtues and
accomplishments that could adorn the sex; but she un¬
fortunately died at the age of eighteen. Her mother has
immortalized her memory in the preface to her translation
of the Iliad. Madame Dacier was in a very infirm state
of health the two last years of her life ; and she died,
after a very painful sickness, on the 17th of August 1720,
aged sixty-nine. She was remarkable for her firmness,
generosity, equality of temper, and piety.
Independently of the works on which she laboured in
conjunction with her husband, Madame Dacier published,
1. Callimachi Hymni, &c., Paris, 1674, with a preface and
notes; 2. A. Flori Historia Rom. ad usum Delph., Paris,
1674, ’4to ; 3. Dictys Cretensis et Dares Phrygius, Paris,
1684, 4to; 4. Sexti Aurelii Vicloris Historice Romano:
Compendium, Paris, 1681,4to ; 5. The Poetry of Anacreon
and Sappho, translated into French, with notes, Paris,
1681, 12mo; 6. Eutropii Hist. Rom. Breviarium, Paris,
1683, 4to; 7. The Amphytrion, the Epidicus, and the
Rudens of Plautus, translated into French, with notes,
Paris, 1683, in 3 vols. 12mo ; 8. The Plutus and the Clouds
D A C
of Aristophanes, translated into French, with notes, Paris, I), ri
/-..-a # •   1 1 Q.~-. . O /-» f'swvi nrl /ir  
1684, in one vol. 12mo ; 9. The Comedies of Terence, trans¬
lated into French, with notes, Paris, 1688, in 3 vols. 12mo; ^
10. Two of Plutarch’s Lives, translated into French, and'*"
forming part of the complete translation of the Lives of
that celebrated biographer undertaken by M. and Mad.
Dacier ; 11. The Riad of Homer, translated into French,
with notes, Paris, 1699, in 4 vols. 12mo; 12. The Causes
of the Corruption of Taste, Paris, 1714, in one vol. 12nio;
13. Homer defended against the Apology of R. P. Har-
douin, Paris, 1716, in one vol. 12mo; 14. The Odyssey of
Homer, translated into French, with notes, Amsterdam,
1717, reprinted with the Riad at Paris, 1756, in 8 vols.
DACTYL (dactylus), a foot in the Latin and Greek
poetry, consisting of a long syllable, followed by two short
ones; as carmine. It is derived from daxruXog, a finger,
because, as some say, it is divided into three joints, the
first of which is longer than the other two.
The dactyl is said to have been the invention of Diony.
sius or Bacchus, who delivered oracles in this measure at
Delphos, before Apollo. The Greeks called it irokimo;.
The dactyl and spondee are the most considerable of the
poetical feet, as being the measures used in heroic verse.
These two are of equal time, but not equal motion. The
spondee has an even, strong, and steady pace, like a trot;
while the dactyl resembles the nimbler strokes of a gallop.
DACTYLI IdjEI, the Fingers of Mount Ida. Concern¬
ing these, Pagan theology and fable give very different
accounts. The Cretans paid divine worship to them, as the
persons who had nursed and brought up the god Jupiter;
and hence it appears that they were the same as the Cory-
bantes and Curetes. Nevertheless Strabo makes them dif¬
ferent, and says, that the tradition in Phrygia was, that
the Curetes and Corybantes were descended from the
Dactyli Idsei; that there were originally an hundred men
in the island, who were called Dactyli Idai, from whom
sprang nine Curetes, and each of these nine produced ten
men, as many as the fingers of a man’s two hands; and that
this gave the name to the ancestors of the Dactyh Idsei.
He relates another opinion, which is, that there were but
five Dactyli Idaei, who, according to Sophocles, were the
inventors of iron ; that these five brothers had five sisters,
and that from this number they received the name of Fb?-
gers of Mount Ida, because they were ten in number, and
worked at the foot of this mountain. Diodorus Siculus,
however, represents the matter a little differently. He says
that the first inhabitants of the island of Crete were the
Dactyli Idaei, who had their residence on Mount Ida;
that some said they were an hundred, others only five in
number, equal to the fingers of a man’s hand, whence
they had the name of Dactyli; that they were magicians,
and addicted to mystical ceremonies; that Orpheus was
their disciple, and carried their mysteries mta breece,;
that the Dactyli invented the use of iron and of tire; anu
that they had been recompensed with divine honours-
Diomedes the grammarian states, that the Dacty i i®1
were priests of the goddess Cybele, and that t ey wenj
called Idcei, because that goddess was chiefly worshippe
on Mount Ida in Phrygia, and Dactyli, beca,lse: in.°l .
to prevent Saturn from hearing the cries of the m
Jupiter, whom Cybele had committed to their custo y,
they used to sing certain verses of their own inven >
in the Dactylic measure. . ,
DACTYLIC, something which has a relation to dac y •
Anciently there were dactylic as well as .sP0"L^1CintinJ
tibiae dactylicce. The dactylic flutes consisted o q
intervals, as the dactylic foot does of unequal measur^
Dactylic Verses are hexameter verses, enclin§ ,
dactyl instead of a spondee ; as spondaic ver*es/re, tvi,
which have a spondee in the fifth foot instead o y
c ^
11=1
W I
D iE D
actyl
DACTYLIOMANCY (Dactyliomantia), a sort of divi¬
nation performed by means of a ring. The word is com¬
posed of the Greek daxTuXiog, a ring, from duzruXog, a fin-
Q6T, and fjj&vTticc, divzncttion*
Dactyliomancy consisted principally in holding a ring,
suspended by a fine thread, over a round table, on the
edge of which were made various marks with the twenty-
four letters of the alphabet. The ring, in shaking or vi¬
brating over the table, stopped over certain of the letters,
which, being joined together, composed the answer re¬
quired. But the operation was preceded and accompanied
by several superstitious ceremonies ; for the ring was con¬
secrated with a great deal of mystery. The person who
held it was required to be clad in linen garments to the
very shoes, his head was to be shaved all round, and in
his hand he was to hold vervain; and before he proceed¬
ed, the gods were first to be appeased by a formulary of
prayers or liturgy. Ammianus Marcellinus gives the pro¬
cess at large in his twenty-ninth book.
DACTYLUS, a sort of dance among the ancient Greeks,
performed chiefly by the athletae.
DADUCHI, in Antiquity, priests of Ceres. That god¬
dess having lost her daughter Proserpine, began, accord¬
ing to the mythologists, to make search for her at the be¬
ginning of the night. In order to do this in the dark, she
lighted a torch, and thus set forth on her travels through¬
out the world; for which reason it is that she is always
represented with a lighted torch in her hand. On this ac¬
count, and in commemoration of her pretended exploit,
it became a custom for the priests, at the feasts and sa¬
crifices of the goddess, to run about in the temple, with
torches in their hands. One of them took a lighted torch
from off the altar, and holding it in his hand, ran with it
to a certain part of the temple, where he gave it to another,
saying to him, Tibi trado ; the second, in like manner, ran
to another part of the temple, and gave it to the third,
and so of the rest. From this ceremony the priests came
to be denominated daduchi, dadou^oi, or torch-bearers ; from
hg, an unctuous resinous wood, as pine or fir, of which the
ancients made torches ; and / have or I hold. The
Athenians also gave the name daduchus to the high-priest
of Hercules.
DfEDALA, a mountain and city of Lycia, where, ac¬
cording to Pliny, Daedalus was buried ; and also two festi¬
vals in Bceotia, so called. One of these was observed by
thePlataeans at Alalcomenos, in a large grove, where they
exposed in the open air pieces of boiled flesh, and care¬
fully noticed whither the crows which came to prey upon
these directed their flight. All the trees upon which any
of the birds alighted were immediately cut down, and out
of them statues were formed, called Dcedala, in honour of
Daedalus. The other festival was of a more solemn kind.
It was celebrated every sixty years throughout all the cities
of Bceotia, as a compensation for the intermission of the
smaller festivals, during that number of years, on account of
the exile of the Plataeans. Fourteen of the statues called
Dadctla were distributed by lot among the Plataeans, Le-
badaeans, Coroneans, Orchomenians, Thespians, Thebans,
Tanagraeans, and Chaeroneans, because they had eifected a
reconciliation among the Plataeans, and caused them to be
recalled from exile about the time that Thebes was restored
by Cassander the son of Antipater. During this festival a
woman in the habit of a bridemaid accompanied a statue
which was dressed in female garments, to the banks of
the Eurotas. This procession was attended to the top of
Mount Cithseron by many of the Boeotians, who had places
assigned them by lot. Here an altar of square pieces of
D iE M 583
wood cemented together like stones was erected, and upon Daedalus
it were thrown large quantities of combustible materials. II
Afterwards a bull was sacrificed to Jupiter, and an ox or Paem°n*
heifer to Juno, by every one of the cities of Bceotia, and
by the most opulent who attended. Tlje poorer citizens
offered small cattle ; and all these oblations, together with
the Daedala, were thrown into the common heap, set on
fire, and totally reduced to ashes. The origin of the ob¬
servance was this : When Juno, after a quarrel with Jupi¬
ter, had retired to Euboea, and refused to return to his bed,
the god, anxious for her return, went to consult Cithceron,
king of Plataea, in order to find some effectual measure for
breaking her obstinacy. Cithaeron advised him to dress
a statue in woman’s apparel, carry it in a chariot, and pub¬
licly report that it was Plataea, the daughter of Asopus,
whom he was going to marry. The advice was followed;
and Juno, informed of her husband’s approaching marriage,
repaired in haste to meet the chariot, and was easily united
to him, when she discovered the artful measures which
he made use of to effect a reconciliation.
DiEDALUS, an Athenian, the son of Eupalamus, was
descended from Erechtheus, king of Athens. He was the
most ingenious artist of his age; and to him we are in¬
debted for the invention of the wedge and many other
mechanical instruments, as also the sails of ships. He
made statues which moved of themselves, and seemed to
be endowed with life. Talus, his sister’s son, promised to
become as great as his uncle by the ingenuity of his in¬
ventions ; and therefore from envy the latter threw him
down from a window and killed him. After the murder
of this youth, Daedalus, together with his son Icarus, fled
from Athens to Crete, where Minos, king of the country,
gave him a cordial reception. Daedalus constructed a fa¬
mous labyrinth for Minos, and assisted Pasiphae the queen
to gratify an unnatural passion. For this action Daedalus
justly incurred the displeasure of Minos, who ordered him
to be confined in the labyrinth which he had constructed.
Here he made himself wings with feathers and wax, and
carefully fitted them to his body and that of his son, who
was the companion of his confinement; and having threaded
their way out of the labyrinth, they took their flight in the
air from Crete; but the heat of the sun melted the wax
on the wings of Icarus, whose flight was too high, and he
fell into that part of the ocean which from him was after¬
wards called the Icarian Sea. The father, by a proper
management of his wings, alighted at Cumae, where he
built a temple to Apollo, and thence directed his course
to Sicily, where he was kindly received by Cocalus, who
then reigned over part of the country. He left many mo¬
numents of his ingenuity in Sicily, which still existed in
the age of Diodorus Siculus. At last he was dispatched
by Cocalus, from terror of the power of Minos, who had
declared war against him because he had given an asylum
to Daedalus. The flight of Daedalus from Crete with wings
is explained by observing that he was the inventor of sails,
which in his age might pass at a distance for wings. He
lived about 1400 years before the Christian era. There
were two statuaries of the same name ; one of Sicyon, son
of Patroclus, and the other a native of Bithynia.
DAEMON (Aa//iwv), a name given by the ancients to
certain spirits or genii, which they say appeared to men,
either to do them service or to injure them.
The Greek word baiyuv is derived, according to Plato,1
from bariym, knowing or intelligent; but according to
others from bouoyai, to distribute. 1 his is the derivation
given by the scholiast on Homer.2 Either of these deri¬
vations agrees with the office ascribed to daemons by the
1 Cratylus, p. 398, ed. Serrani, vol. 1.
Iliad, i. ver. 222.
584
D iE M
D iE M
It has been generally thought, that by demons we areDatt,
to understand devils, in the Septuagint version of the Old v
Testament; but others think that the word in that version
is applied to the ghosts of such dead men as the heathens
deified. That dcemon often bears the same meaning in the
New Testament, is shown at large by Mr Joseph Mede,
in his works; and that the word is applied always to hu¬
man spirits in the New Testament, Mr Farmer has at-
Dsemon. ancient heathens, as the spirit intrusted with the inspec-
tion and government of mankind. For, according to the
philosophers, daemons held a middle rank between the ce¬
lestial gods and men upon earth, and carried on all inter¬
course between them ; conveying the addresses ot men to
the gods, and the divine benefits to men. It was the opi¬
nion of many, that the celestial divinities did not them¬
selves interpose in human affairs, ^ world tempted to show in his Essay on Daemoniacs. As to the
tire administration of the government o , * meaning of the word dcemon in the writings of the fathers
to these subaltern deities : Neqne ^^Su Zunil, of Se Christian church, it is used by them in the same
ccelestwm fuent hcec curare. Cuncta . b the heathen philosophers, especially the
numine, et auctoritate, sed became the latter Platonists ; that is, sometimes for departed human
ministerio fieri arbitrandum est. Hence t ey „
objects of divine worship. “ If idols are nothing, says
Celsus,3 “ what harm can there be to join in the pub c
festivals ? If they are daemons, then it is certain that they
are gods, in whom we ought to confide, and to whom we
should offer sacrifices andprayers to render them propitious.
IclLtCl X ia Lumouo ,    I
spirits, and at other times for such spirits as had never in¬
habited human bodies. In the fathers, indeed, the word
is more commonly employed in an evil sense, than in that
of the ancient philosophers. Besides the two kinds of dae¬
mons before mentioned, the fathers, as well as the ancient
ould offer sacrifices andprayers to remer [ ^ • philosophers, believed in a third, namely, such as sprang
Several of the heathen philosophers held at there P m ^ conffregs of superior beings with the daughfer81
were different kinds of daemons ; that some of thein were
spiritual substances of a more noble ongin than the hu¬
man race, and that others had once been men.
But those daemons who were the more immediate ob-
iects of the established worship among the ancient nations
were human spirits, such as were believed to become dae¬
mons or deities after their departure from their bodies.
Plutarch teaches, “ that according to a divine nature and
justice, the souls of virtuous men are advanced to the rank
of daemons; and that from daemons, if they are properly
purified, they are exalted into gods, not by any political
institution, but according to right reason.” Ihe same au¬
thor says in another place,5 “ that Isis and Osiris were,
for their virtue, changed from good daemons into gods, as
were Hercules and Bacchus afterwards, receiving the unit¬
ed honours both of gods and daemons.” Hesiod and other
from the congress of superior beings with the daughters of
men. In the theology of the fathers, these were the worst
kind of daemons.
Different orders of daemons had different stations and
employments assigned them by the ancients. Good dae¬
mons were considered as the authors of good to mankind;
whereas evil daemons brought innumerable ills both upon
men and beasts. Amongst evil daemons there was a great
distinction with respect to the offices assigned them; as
some compelled men to wickedness, and others stimulated
them to madness.
DiEMONIAC (from dcemon), a human being whose
volition and other mental faculties are overpowered and
restrained, and his body possessed and actuated by some
created spiritual being of superior power.
Such seems to be the determinate sense of the word;
ed honours both of gods and daemons riesiou aim o n.. — h f kind ever were in
LS;T- ^ Unfortunate condition, ft is ge„era,iy agreed. tta
neither good nor evil spirits are known at present to exert
such authority over the human race ; but in the ancient
heathen world, and amongst the Jews, particularly in the
days of our Saviour, evil spirits are thought by many to
have been much more troublesome.
The Greeks and Homans imagined that their deities, in
order to reveal future events, frequently entered into the
sert, that the men of the golden age, who were supposed
to be very good, became daemons after death, and dis¬
pensers of good things to mankind.
Though dcemon is often used in a general sense as equi¬
valent to a deity, and is accordingly applied to fate or for¬
tune, or whatever else was regarded as a god, yet those
Sh7h”e tyo“ isuse^fndifferently i a good and in speech ,.^0 was be^
savs Menander, “ think any daemon to be evil or hurtful to were supposed to unfold futun y by the same ^acnine J
PjAhagorasbelieve^ii^dffimonswho^flic^edvvith diseases Sman^S^
Sh men and cattle* Zaleucus, in his preface to his laws,7 by the use of the word a«^o^, show JaUhey refer^
supposes that an evil daemon might be present with a man, red to this cause the o ig • bee^ a .
to influence him to injustice. The daemons of Empedo- cient heathens, therefore, it app <. pntered occa-
des were evil spirits, and exiles from heaven ; and Plu- rally received opinion, that s^r10'
tarch, in his life of Dion, says that it was the opinion of the sionally into men, overpowered
ancients that evil and mischievous daemons, out of envy and actuated their bodily organs. 7 i? t Jg owing
and hatred to good men, oppose whatsoever they do. this happened in instances in which the effects were
Scarcely did any opinion more generally prevail in ancient to the operation of different causes , u /
times than this, that as the departed souls of good men be- nerally prevalent had surely some p writino's and
came good daemons, so the departed souls of bad men be- The Jews, too, if we may trust the ac^d ^ e".
came evil demons. Josephus, appear to have believed in demoniacal posses
1 Apuleius De Deo Socratis, p. 677-
s Id. p. 675.
* Apud Orig. contr. Celsum, lib. viii. p. 393.
* Vit. Itomul. p. 36, ed. Paris.
® De Is. et Osir. p. 361.
6 Diog. Laert. in Vit. Pythagor. p. 514, ed. Amstel.
’ Apud Stobaeum, Serna. 42.
si >
D M M
sion. The case of Saul may be recollected as one among
many in which superior created beings were believed by
the Jews to exert in this manner their influence over hu¬
man life. The general tenor of their history and language,
and their doctrines concerning good and evil spirits, prove
that the opinion of daemoniacal possession had been well
known and generally received among them.
In the days of our Saviour, it would appear that daemo¬
niacal possession was very frequent amongst the Jews and
the neighbouring nations. Many were the evil spirits
whom Jesus is related in the gospels to have ejected from
patients who were brought unto him as possessed and tor¬
mented by these malevolent daemons. His apostle^ too, and
the first Christians, who were most active and successful
in the propagation of Christianity, appear to have frequent¬
ly exerted the miraculous powers with which they were
endowed on similar occasions. The daemons displayed a
degree of knowledge and malevolence which sufficiently
distinguished them from human beings; whilst the language
in which the daemoniacs are mentioned, and the actions
and sentiments ascribed to them in the New Testament,
show that our Saviour and his apostles did not consider
the idea of daemoniacal possession as being merely a vul¬
gar error concerning the origin of a disease or of diseases
produced by natural causes.
The more enlightened cannot always avoid the use of
metaphorical modes of expression ; which, though founded
upon error, have yet been so established in language by
the influence of custom, that they cannot be suddenly dis¬
missed. When we read in the book of Joshua that the sun
on a certain occasion stood still, in order to allow that hero
time to complete a victory, we easily find an excuse for
the conduct of the sacred historian, in accommodating his
narrative to the popular ideas of the Jews concerning the
relative motions of the heavenly bodies. In all similar
instances we do not complain much of the use of a single
phrase, originally introduced by the prevalence of some
groundless opinion, the falsity of which is well known to
the writer.
But in descriptions of characters, in the narration of
facts, and in laying down systems of doctrine, we require
very different rules to be observed. Should any person,
in compliance with popular opinions, talk in serious lan¬
guage of the existence, dispositions, declarations, and ac¬
tions of a race of beings whom he knew to be absolutely
fabulous, we surely could not praise him for candour or
integrity, but must suppose him to be either exulting in
irony over the credulity of those around him, or taking ad¬
vantage of their weakness, with the dishonest and the sel¬
fish views of an impostor. And if he himself should pre¬
tend to any connection with this imaginary system of beings,
and should claim, in consequence of his connection with
them, particular honours from his contemporaries, what¬
ever might be the dignity of his character in all other re¬
spects, nobody could hesitate for a moment to brand him
as an impostor of the basest character.
Precisely in this light must we regard the conduct of
our Saviour and his apostles, if the ideas of daemoniacal
possession were to be considered merely as a vulgar error.
They talked and acted as if they believed that evil spirits
had actually entered into those who were brought to
them as possessed with devils, and as if those spirits were
actually expelled by their authority out of the unhappy
persons whom they had possessed. They expected, they
demanded too, to have their profession and declarations
believed, in consequence of their performing such mighty
works, and to be honoured as having thus triumphed over
the powers of hell. The reality of daemoniacal possession
stands upon the same evidence with the gospel system in
general.
VOL. VII.
D JE M
585
Neither is there any thing absurd or unreasonable inDsemoniac.
this doctrine. It does not appear to contradict those ideas
which the general appearance of nature and the series of
events suggest concerning the benevolence and.wisdom of
the Deity, and the councils by which he regulates the
affairs of the universe. We often fancy ourselves able to
comprehend things to which our understanding is wholly
inadequate; and we persuade ourselves, at times, that
the whole extent of the works of the Deity must be
well known to us, and that his designs must always be
such as we can fathom. We are then ready, whenever
any difficulty arises, in considering the conduct of Provi¬
dence, to model things according to our own ideas; to
deny that the Deity can possibly be the author of things
which we cannot reconcile; and to assert that he must
act on every occasion in a manner consistent with our nar¬
row views. This is the pride of reason; and it seems to
have suggested the strongest objections that have been at
any time urged against the reality of dasmoniacal posses¬
sion. But the Deity may surely connect one order of his
creatures with another. We perceive mutual relations and
a beautiful connection prevalent throughout all that part
of nature which falls within the sphere of our observation.
The inferior animals are connected with mankind, and
subjected to their authority, not only in instances in which
it is exerted for their advantage, but even where it is ty¬
rannically abused to their destruction. Amongst the evils
to which mankind have been subjected, why might not
their being liable to diemoniacal possession be one ? Whilst
the Supreme Being retains the sovereignty of the universe,
he may employ whatever agents he thinks proper in the
execution of his purposes; he may either commission an
angel or let loose a devil, as well as bend the human will,
or communicate any particular impulse to matter.
All that revelation makes known, all that human reason
can conjecture, concerning the existence of various orders
of spiritual beings, good and bad, is perfectly consistent
with, and even favourable to, the doctrine of daemoniacal
possession. It was generally believed throughout the an¬
cient heathen world; it was equally well known to the Jews,
and equally respected by them; it is mentioned in the
New Testament in such language, and such narratives are
related concerning it, that the gospels cannot well be re¬
garded in any other light than as pieces of imposture, and
Jesus Christ must be considered as a man who dishonest¬
ly took advantage of the weakness and ignorance of his
contemporaries, if this doctrine be nothing but a vulgar
error. But it teaches nothing inconsistent with the general
conduct of Providence ; it is not the caution of philosophy,
but the pride of reason, which suggests objections against
this doctrine.
Those, again, who are unwilling to allow that angels or
devils have ever intermeddled so much with the concerns
of human life, urge a number of specious arguments in op¬
position to such a supposition. The Greeks and Romans
of old, say they, did believe in the reality of daemoniacal
possession. They supposed that spiritual beings did at
times enter into the sons or daughters of men, and dis¬
tinguish themselves in that situation by capricious freaks,
deeds of wanton mischief, or prophetic enunciations. But
in the instances in which they supposed this to happen, it
is evident that no such thing took place. Their accounts
of the state and conduct of those persons whom they be¬
lieved to be possessed in this supernatural manner, show
plainly that what they ascribed to the influence of daemons
were merely the effects of natural diseases. Whatever
they relate concerning the larvati, the cerriti, and the lym-
phatici, show’s that these were merely people disordered
in mind, or in the same unfortunate situation with those
madmen and idiots and melancholy persons wdiom we have
4 E
586
D iE M
Diemoniac. among ourselves.' Festus describes the larvaii as being
v furiosi ct mente moti. Horace saj s,
Hellade percussa, Marius cum prsecipitat se,
Cerritus fuit.
And Lucian describes demoniacs as lunatic, and as star¬
ing with their eyes, foaming at the mouth, and speechless.
It appears still more evidently, that all the persons spo¬
ken of as possessed with devils in the New_ Testament,
were either mad or epileptic, and precisely in the same
condition with the madmen and epileptics of modern tn .
The Jews, amongst other reproaches wh.ch they hre
DAG
whole. Notwithstanding its immense extent, and although Da
it contains such numberless diversities of being, yet the U,
simplest machine constructed by human art does not dis- |
play greater simplicity, or a happier connection of parts.hagh n
We may therefore venture to draw an inference, by ana- ^ f
logy, from what is observable of the order of nature in ge¬
neral to the present case. To permit evil spirits to inter¬
meddle with the concerns of human life, would be to
break through that order which the Deity appears to have
established throughout his works ; it would be to introduce
a degree of confusion unworthy of the wisdom of Divine
The Jews, amongstotner reproao.es j r mad* Providence,
against our Saviour, said, “ He h*th a ’ a" / -j 'd such are the most rational arguments which have been
why hear ye him?” The expressions, as s^non^v- urged on both sides in this controversy. Perhaps the
is mad, were certainly used on ^ ^ ‘notysureL dJLonists have the stronger probabilities on their side;
mous. With all their virulence, they . ^ b t pj not presume to take upon ourselves the office
ascribe to him at once two of arbitrators in the dispute.
and contradictory. Ihose who thouS j - diy Demoniacs, in Ecclesiastical History, a branch of the
of the character of Jesus, Se a e not Anabaptists, whose distinguishing tenet it is that the de-
courses, and in reply to his adversanes, ^ these are not ^ ^.P ^ ^ gaved ^ ^ gnd of the world>
the words of him that hath a deem , , *=’ j ^ DAGELET’S Island, in the Sea of Japan, was so
that he spoke in a more na„ed by La Perouse, who landed there in 1787. It is
could be expected to speak. The X species about nine miles in circumference, of the most precipitous
ascribed to the influence of doemons, y P asnect being environed, except at some small sandycreeks,
of madness in which the ^ w^h a ramplrt of bare’ rocks' as perpendicular al a wall!
also madness. Of John, • • v j Perouse’s men saw in some of these creeks boats resem-
from intercourse with the ™ He bUng Aose o? the Chinese in their construction, but the
for abstinence and acts of mortmcatio , y ’ carnenters all fled into the forest as soon as they saw the
SS^orsdoubiing the west
condition in these words, “ Have mercy on my son, tor
he is lunatic and sore vexed with a daemon; for oft times
he falleth into the fire, and oft into the water, was plain¬
ly epileptic. Every thing indeed that is related in the
New Testament concerning daemoniacs, proves that they
were people affected with such natural diseases as are far
from being uncommon amongst mankind in the present age.
When the symptoms of the disorders cured by our Savi¬
our and his apostles as cases of daemoniacal possession,
correspond so exactly with those of diseases well known
as natural in the present age, it would be absurd to impute
them to a supernatural cause. It is much more consistent
with common sense and sound philosophy to suppose,
that our Saviour and his apostles wisely, an(|. with that ^a s^uth-east direction, of great length,
condescension to the weakness and prejudices of those inconsiderable in breadth, and forming the whole
whom they conversed, which so eminently dis inguis let frontier of Georgia. The inhabitants are a wild
the character of the author of our holy religion, and mu t ^f^J^tti, divTde^ into different tribes, whose
always be a prominent feature in the character of the t , . ■ • ^ are seciutjeti }n the depths of the mountains,
Christian, adopted the vulgar language in speaking , loftiest "summits, or on the most frightful preci-
^ r,cet
“ofoU bj^the'intervention'of^arnon'^orijia^evn by g-duated ,erraces. Those rude tribes of the =;
;^^,Le to enter into ntankind in all cases of
madness, melancholy, or epilepsy. _ o, ’ villncrps and carrving off or murdering
Besides, it is by no means a sufficient reason for receiv- ^ blmbitanJ Thef are said to be Mahommedans; but
ing any doctrine as true, that it has been generally re- the mhabitants. Ihej are sa the object
ceived throughout the world. Error, like an epidemical such is their ignorance that tl ey X Sun moon, or stars,
disease, is communicated from one to another. In certain of their veneration, which is either the sun, moon^o ^ ^
circumstances, too, the influence of imagination piedomi-
nates, and restrains the exertions of reason. Many false
opinions have extended their influence throughout a very
wide circle, and maintained it long. On every such occa¬
sion as the present, therefore, it becomes us to inquire,
not so much how generally any opinion has been received, sa“e.™ounta'nXtCVXXvriVyaXful'and fertile,
or how long it has prevailed, as from what causes it has ed with wood; but theva^a forts, built by
originated, and on what evidence it rests. All over the country are decay as soon as he
When we contemplate the frame of nature, we behold some unsuccessful rebel, ^ehXo de ^ coun.
a grand and beautiful simplicity prevailing throughout the was quelled. At one time, accoidin0
rrencu iiaviga,iui& uuuuiiug
Perouse conjectured that they resorted thither from Corea,
which is not more than sixty miles distant, for the pur¬
pose of building boats, which they sell on the continent.
The island is covered in the highest part with wood. Long.
131. 22. E. Lat. 37. 25. N.
DAGHESTAN, a country of Asia, on the west coast
of the Caspian Sea, lying between the rivers Koisin and
liubas. It is about 134 miles in length, by between
thirty and forty in breadth. It is almost entirely moun-
tainous, as its name, Daghestan, implies, the plain that
runs along the shore being a narrow strip. It is usually
divided into the following small states, namely, Lesgestan,
Schamgal, the khanship of Derbund, and the domain of
Tabasseran. Lesgestan is a stupendous range of moun-
of their veneration, which is euuei me aun,-
They are lightly dressed, according to the custom ot
Tartars, and are armed with a gun, pistols, dagger, a
sabre. Their women surpass in beauty all the females o
Mount Caucasus, and fetch the highest prices in
markets of Constantinople. The other districts are
same mountainous character ; that of Labasseran is cover
D A H
Da
try was more prosperous, but it has been long declining. It
contains many places without inhabitants, or such only as
are the wretched remains of the former flourishing fami¬
lies. Nadir Shah was obliged to withdraw his forces from
this country in 1743, leaving it unsubdued. The Rus¬
sians claim the dominion over it, but their sway is not ac¬
knowledged by the inhabitants. It has in later times been
a scene of contest between them and the Persians.
DAGO, an island in the Baltic, belonging to the Rus¬
sian province Esthonia, and situated between 58. 42. and
59. 47. north latitude, and 31. 43. and 33. 5. east longi¬
tude. It is generally a hilly spot, with large woods, but on
the south some poor sandy land, and on the east side some
fruitful soil, yield corn, flax, and hemp. It is 220 square
miles in extent, with three parishes, and about 19,000
inhabitants.
DAGON, the false god of Ashdod, or, as the Greeks
call him, Azotos. He is commonly represented as a mon¬
ster, half man and half fish ; whence most learned men
derive his name from the Hebrew dag, which signifies a
fish. Those who consider him to have been the inventor of
bread corn, derive his name from the Hebrew dagon, which
signifies; whence Philo Biblius calls him Zsus
Agarguog, Jupiter Aratrius.
This deity continued to have a temple at Ashdod dur¬
ing all the ages of idolatry, till the time of the Maccabees ;
for the author of the first book of Maccabees tells us that
“ Jonathan, one of the Maccabees, having beaten the
army of Apollonius, Demetrius’s general, they fled to
Azotus, and entered into Bethdagon (the temple of their
idol); but that Jonathan set fire to Azotus, and burnt
the temple of Dagon and all those who had fled into it.”
According to some, Dagon was the same with Jupiter,
according to others, with Saturn ; according to others,
again, he was identical with Venus, but according to most,
with Neptune.
DAHALAK, or Dahlak, an island in the Red Sea, off
the coast of Abyssinia, nearly opposite to Massiiah. It is
about twenty-five miles in length, and twelve in breadth.
It was once populous, and carried on a considerable trade.
The principal port was called Dahalak-el-Kibar ; and ves¬
tiges of its former importance still remain, but the water
is scarcely sufficient to admit small vessels. There is still,
however, a little trade between the island and Massuah.
DAHHI, a large village of Arabia, in the country of
Yemen, which has a mosque and the tomb of a saint. The
inhabitants are engaged in making bricks and in tanning
leather. They also prepare indigo, which is used for dye¬
ing throughout Yemen, that being the favourite colour.
Forty-six miles south-east of Loheia.
DAHOMEY, a considerable kingdom, situated in the
interior of Western Africa, behind the Slave Coast. It
was scarcely known to Europeans till the beginning of the
last century, when Guadjo Trudo, the sovereign of Da¬
homey, extended his dominion to the sea, by the conquest
of Whidah and Ardra. These beautiful countries, the
garden of Africa, were rendered almost a desert by this
terrible inroad ; and they have as yet recovered only a
small portion of their former prosperity. Several French and
English travellers have since made their way to the capi¬
tal of Dahomey, and given a view of the extraordinary
institutions and political system which prevail there. All
the most arbitrary forms of despotism seem to be mild and
liberal when compared with the tyranny established in
this barbarous state. The despotism is not founded upon
force and terror, nor is it connected with any timid or ef¬
feminate character in its subjects, who are the most furi¬
ous and desperate soldiers in Africa. It rests on a blind
and idolatrous veneration for the person of the sovereign,
as for that of a superior being. It is a crime to suppose
D A H
587
that the king of Dahomey can eat, drink, sleep, or perform Dahomey,
any of the functions of an ordinary mortal. Bossa Aha- v-»*s-y'w>'
dee, on his accession, caused all the persons of the name
of Bossa in his dominions to be put to death, conceiving
it to be an unpardonable presumption that any subject
should bear the same name as his master. The greatest
lords are allowed to approach the king only lying flat on
their faces, and rolling their heads in the dust. The at¬
tempts thus made to inspire the people with reverence for
their monarch seem completely successful. The Dahoman
rushes to battle with the same blind intrepidity in the
cause of his king, as the Spartans formerly did for their
nation and laws. Norris having asked a Dahoman before
battle if he did not think the enemy too numerous, the
man replied, “ I think of my king, and then I dare en¬
gage five of the enemy myself.” He declared his indif¬
ference whether he survived or not; adding, “ It is not
material; my head belongs to the king, not to myself; if
he pleases to send for it, I am ready to resign it; or if it
be shot through in battle, it is no difference to me, I am
satisfied.” War is the element of the Dahomans, and they
had subdued all the neighbouring states, till they them¬
selves were repeatedly defeated, and at length rendered
tributary, by the Eyeos, a still more numerous and power¬
ful people, who occupy the country to the north-east.
The ferocity which prevails in this nation almost sur¬
passes belief. Human skulls form the favourite orna¬
ment in the construction of the piilaces and temples. The
king’s sleeping chamber has the floor paved with skulls,
and the roof ornamented with the jaw-bones of chiefs
whom he has overcome in battle. Every year a grand
festival is held, which lasts for several weeks, and during
which the king waters the graves of his ancestors with
hosts of human victims. The bodies of those unhappy
men are not even interred, but are suspended by the
feet to the walls, and left hanging till they putrefy. But
the most extraordinary exercise of despotism consists in
the treatment of the female sex, all of whom in Dahomey
are considered as the property of the king, and entirely at
his disposal. After retaining an immoderate number for
his own use, he distributes the rest, first among his chief
men, and then among the commons. The distribution of
wives takes place once a year at the grand festival, when
each individual gives in such a sum as he is able to spare
for the purchase, and receives in return such a wife as the
king chooses to bestow. There is no room for discussion
or complaint; be she old, ugly, or deformed, she must
equally be accepted. As a large proportion, however, are
left without the means of procuring a wife, the king main¬
tains a certain number of courtezans, who are obliged to ply
their trade at a moderate rate to all comers. He himself
has about three thousand wives, a large proportion of whom
exercise functions which do not in other countries devolve
upon the female sex. They are trained to arms, and com¬
pose a regiment of royal guards, divided into companies,
armed with muskets and bows, and provided with drums,
flags, and all the apparatus of war. At the death of the
king a horrid scene commences ; the wives, after the most
extravagant demonstrations of grief, begin with breaking
and destroying every thing that belongs to them, and then
fall to murdering each other, till they are stopped by or¬
der of the new sovereign. The throne descends rightfully
to the eldest son ; but as it is judged indispensable that this
fierce nation should be swayed by a vigorous hand, where
there appears any deficiency in the eldest, the chiefs select
one of the younger brothers. This arrangement, however,
often gives rise to a civil war.
The country of Dahomey is very little known to Euro¬
peans, who have only observed that part which is passed
in going from the coast to the capital. This appeared to
DAI
be very beautiful and fertile, rising for about 150 miles
in a gradual slope, but without any great elevation. I he
soil is a deep rich clay of a reddish colour, with a little
sand on the surface; but there was not observed in the
whole country a stone as large as a walnut. Ot farina¬
ceous vegetables, the country, when duly cultivated, yieias
a plentiful supply ; maize, millet or Guinea corn ; a kim
of peas, or rather kidney beans*, called callavances; a
also a species of beans called ground beans. ilie.Uah°-
mans likewise cultivate yams, potatoes, the plantain, and
the banana. Pine apples, oranges, limes, guavas, and ot e
tropical fruits, abound in this fertile country, nor &
destitute of productions adapted for commerce, sue
indigo, cotton, the sugar cane, tobacco, palm 01’’ t^t e
with a variety of spices, particularly a species of pepper,
scarcely distinguishable from that raised in the East
dies. The harmattan, or dry wind, blows here strongest
from the north-east; but Mr Norris does not ascribe to it
those pestilential qualities which have often supposed
to belong to it. It parches up the ground indeed, and
injures every species of vegetable. To man it produces
unpleasant sensations, rendering the eyes, nostrils, lips,
and palate very dry and uneasy. But it does not induce
any fatal diseases; it even cures cutaneous eruptions, and
stops the progress of small-pox, fluxes, and remittent fe¬
vers. The greatest injury to health arises from the peri¬
odical rains, and the tornadoes with which they are ac¬
companied. These, however, are the grand source of fer¬
tility, and are immediately succeeded by the most luxu¬
riant vegetation. . . „
BAILEE, John, a Protestant minister near Paris, was
one of the most learned divines of the seventeenth century,
and the most esteemed by the Catholics of all the contro¬
versial writers among the Protestants. He was tutor to
DAI
two of the grandsons of the illustrious M. du Plessis
Mornay. M. Daille having lived fourteen years with so ex¬
cellent a master, travelled into Italy with his two pupils,
one of whom died abroad ; but with the other he visited
Italy, Switzerland, Germany, Flanders, Holland, and Eng.
land, and returned in 1621. He was received as minister
in 1623, and first exercised his office in the family of M.
du Plessis Mornay ; but this did not last long, for his patron
died soon afterwards. The memoirs of this great man em¬
ployed M. Daille the following year. In 1625 he was
appointed minister of the church of Saumur, and in 1626
removed to Paris. He spent all the rest of his life in the
service of this last church, and composed several works.
His first production is his masterpiece, and is really an
excellent work, entitled Of the Use of the Fathers, printed
1631. It is a strong chain of reasoning, and forms a mo¬
ral demonstration against those who would have religious
disputes decided by the authority of the fathers. The
works of Daille were numerous. He died in 1670, aged
seventy-seven.
D AIR EL K AMAR, or the House of the Moon, a town
of Syria, situated on a small rivulet, a branch of the Da-
mauna. It is an extensive place, but ill built, and con¬
tains the palace of the emir or prince of the Druses, which
is a spacious but ruinous edifice. The inhabitants, who
amount to 1500 or 1800, are Greek Catholics, Maronites,
and Druses. Eighteen miles north-east of Saide.
DAIRI, or Dairo, in the history of Japan, is the sove-
reign pontiff of the Japanese, or, according to Iveempfer,
the hereditary ecclesiastical monarch of Japan. In efteef,
the empire of Japan is under two sovereigns, namely, an
ecclesiastical one called the dairo, and a secular one who
bears the title of kubo. The latter is the emperor, and the
former the oracle of the religion of the country.
Ds
elKi;r
J
hah
'•’V /
D A I It Y.
Dairy or Dairying, that branch of husbandry of which
the object is to convert the produce of the soil into milk,
by means of the domesticated animals, and to prepaie it
for use in different forms. „ .
The only animal kept in considerable numbers for its
milk, in this country, is the cow. Though it is still the
practice in some parts of Britain to draw a quantity of
milk from ewes, after their lambs are weaned, and a few
goats and asses are kept chiefly for their milk; yet in t le
case of sheep, the milk is a very subordinate part of the
produce, and the medicinal quality of the milk of the two
latter species of animals, of which the number is quite in¬
considerable, does not allow them to be considered as part
of a dairy stock. ,
Milk is used either in the state in which it is drawn
from the cow, or, after its component parts have been se¬
parated, in the shape of cream, or butter, or cheese, with
butter milk, skimmed milk, or whey. Hence, to give a ge¬
neral view of this branch of husbandry, it is necessary to
arrange dairies under three great divisions, according to
the principal object of each, namely, new milk, butter, and
cheese dairies. Nor is it any objection to this arrangement,
that, at certain seasons of the year, or owing to temporary
causes, it may be found necessary to unite the labours of
all the three in any one of these divisions. It is enough
that the chief purpose and general management be diffei-
ent, to entitle them to separate consideration, because
these take their rise in the very different circumstances of
each class, and give to it a determinate character. The
treatment of the cows, and the value of their produce, ai e
by no means the same in all the three, and the animals
themselves would require to be selected with a view to
the particular object of each; the cow that yields the
greatest quantity of milk, and is on this account preferred
for a new milk dairy, not being always the most profitable
one in a cheese or butter dairy\
I. New Milk Fairies.—It is only in or near large towns
that dairies of this description can be established upon a 21
scale of any extent, and there they are found in great va¬
riety. It will give a sufficient view of what may be con-nor* •
sidered the best systems of management, to mention the
practice of the London and Edinburgh dairymen.
I. The cows kept for-supplying the metropolis with milkCon
are of a large size, with short horns, and known by the
name of Holderness cattle, from a district of that name in
Yorkshire, though they do not now all come from thence,
but many of them from a similar stock in that and tlie
neighbouring counties. They are bought from the breed¬
ers when three or four years old, and in calf, and expose
by the dealers at the fairs and markets in Middlesex, par¬
ticularly at Islington, where there is a fresh supply from
the country every week, by means of which the London
cow-keepers are enabled to keep up their stocks. Ibese
cows are preferred on account of the quantity of their miiK,
without much regard to its quality. A few ot the C0'™P'
ers have very large stocks, nearly a thousand nay.inS , ,
sometimes in the possession of one individual, ihe
number required for the supply of London and its e -
rons with milk is about 8500, the produce of wbch a te
years ago was estimated at L.38 a yeai eac , oi • ’
in all, said to yield a profit of L.6 per cow to the r own
ers. But the sum actually paid for milk, including
Dairj
[aiiag
£nt'
DAIRY.
profits of the retailer, has been stated at L.626,233 per
annum.
The cow-keepers breed very few cattle, and those only
from favourite cows, which become so merely from their
giving much milk, and with very little attention to the
choice of their bulls. Cows of this description are usually
kept five, or even sometimes seven years. When they are
allowed to become dry, with a view to their being dispos¬
ed of, they soon become fat on their former diet, and are
then sold to the butcher.
During the night the cows are confined in stalls. About
three o’clock in the morning each has an half bushel bas¬
ket of grains, to which salt, not much more than an ounce
a day, is sometimes added. From four o’clock to half past
six they are milked by the retail milk-dealers, who con¬
tract with the cow-keepers for the milk of a certain num¬
ber of cows, at so much for eight quarts. When the
milking is finished, a bushel basket of turnips is given to
each cow; and very soon afterwards they have an allot¬
ment, in the proportion of one truss to ten cows, of grassy
and soft meadow hay, which had been the most early
mown, and cured of the greenest colour. These several
feedings are generally made before eight o’clock in the
morning, at which time the cows are usually turned into
the cow-yard, though in one large dairy at Islington they
are constantly confined to the stake. About twelve o’clock
they are again confined to their stalls, and served with the
same quantity of grains as they had in the morning. About
half past one o’clock in the afternoon, the milking com¬
mences in the manner before described, and continues till
near three, when the cows are again served with the same
quantity of turnips, and, about an hour afterwards, with the
same distribution of hay. Along with, or instead of tur¬
nips, mangel wurzel is now much used in these dairies.
This mode of feeding generally continues during the
turnip season, which is from the month of September to
the month of May. During the other months of the year
they are fed with grains, cabbages, tares, and the forego¬
ing proportion of rouen, or second cut meadow-hay, and
are continued to be fed and milked with the same regu¬
larity as before described, until they are turned out to
grass, when they continue in the field all night; and even
during this last period they are frequently fed with grains,
which are kept sweet and eatable for a considerable length
of time, by being buried in pits made for that purpose.
There are about ten bulls to a stock of three hundred
cows. The calves are generally sent to Smithfield market
at one, two, or three days old. The quantity of milk given
by each cow, on an average, is nine quarts a day, or 3285
quarts in the year. The weekly expense of food is esti¬
mated in the Middlesex report at 10s. 3d. and the other
charges about L.5. 7s. per annum. In 1807, the retailer
paid to the cow-keeper for the milk 2|d. and sold it to the
consumer at 4<id. per quart; but it is alleged, that byr taking
off cream, difference of measure, and other means, the re¬
tailer obtains a profit of no less than a hundred per cent.
Five or six men only are employed in attending nearly
three hundred cows. As one person cannot milk more
than eight or nine cows twice a day, that part of the bu¬
siness would necessarily be attended with considerable ex¬
pense to the cow-keeper, were it not that the retailer, as
before observed, agrees for the produce of a certain num¬
ber of cows, and takes the labour and expense of milking
upon himself.
Every cow-house is provided with a milk room, where
the milk is measured, and served out by the cow-keeper ;
and this room is commonly furnished with a pump, to
which the retail dealers are said to apply in rotation, not
secretly, but openly, before any person who may be stand-
mg by, from which they pump water into the milk vessels
589
Dairy.
at their discretion. The pump is placed there expressly
for that purpose, and it is seldom used for any other.
2. The greater part of the cows kept in Edinburgh are Edinburgh,
also of the short-horned breed, brought from the counties
of Berwick, Roxburgh, and Northumberland, and weigh,
when fat, from forty to sixty stones avoirdupois. They are
purchased by dealers, who drive them to market when
they are about to calve, or immediately after calving.
Many of them are too old for being kept to advantage on
the usual food allowed them in the country, or to be fat¬
tened on turnips; and part of them are purchased from
hinds or married ploughmen, who have no means of fat¬
tening them. A cow which shows a great deal of milk
sells in Edinburgh nearly as high as a fat cowr of the same
weight.
The cow-feeders of Edinburgh do not find it for their
interest to keep their cows for more than one year, or even
so long, if they can be fattened sooner. Their object is to
have as great a quantity of milk as possible in the first
instance; and when the cows fall off in milking, as they
almost always do between four and six months after
calving, to prepare them speedily for the butcher. Most
of the cows continue to give a good deal of milk while
they are fattening, and even until they are sent to the
shambles. It is expected they should sell to the butcher
at the price paid by the cow-keeper.
Their food in summer is brewers’ and distillers’ grains,Food,
and wash or dreg, wheat shellings or small bran, grass, and
straw; and in winter the same grains, dreg, and bran, with
turnips and potatoes, and hay instead of grass. When
grains are scarce, cut or chopped hay is mixed with them.
Some of them are sent to pasture in fields near the city
for about two months during the best of the grass season ;
but even then a certain number must be kept in the house,
for consuming the grains, which are usually purchased by
contract for a whole year.
With regard to management, the cow-keepers begin Manage-
with grains, dreg, and bran, mixed together, at five o’clock ment.
in the morning; feed a second time at one o’clock after¬
noon, and a third from seven to eight in the evening.
Grass in summer, and turnips or potatoes in winter, are
given at both intervals. A small quantity of straw is laid
below the grass, which absorbs its moisture, and is eaten
after the grass; and, in winter, straw or hay is given after
the turnips. Part of the turnips or potatoes is boiled,
particularly when there is a scarcity of grains, and inter¬
mixed with them. The expense in summer is said to be
2s. 10^d., and in winter 3s. 7^d. per day, for each cow.
The cows are seldom milked more than twice a day; but for
about a month after being bought, it is sometimes neces¬
sary to milk them three times. The common periods of
milking are six o’clock in the morning, from three to four
in the afternoon, and, when milked a third time, nine in
the evening.
Their produce in milk, when fed as already stated, mayproduce.
average about seven Scotch pints, or nearly twelve quarts
and a half, daily, per cow. When the cows are smaller, and
not so well fed, five pints, or about nine quarts, is said to
be the average. The price of milk in Edinburgh used to
be 6d. per pint, but of late it has been lower, particularly in
summer. This is said to be very little more than the price
of the food. For interest of money, risk, expenses of ma¬
nagement, and profit, there is the manure, worth L.3. 10s.
for each cow; some savings on the cows while at grass,
which costs only Is. 8d. per day; and probably a small
advance of price may be commonly got from the butcher
when the cows are skilfully selected and well managed.
There have been instances of cow-feeders contracting
with others to retail their milk; but the practice is not
common. The cow-keepers generally retail it themselves.
590
Dairy.
DAIRY.
Butter
Dairies.
Butter
made from
milk.
In one instance a guinea a week for the milk of each cow
was paid by retailers to a farmer in the vicinity of Ldin-
Comparing the London and Edinburgh dairies, there
seems to be a difference in favour of the best of the latter,
of no less than three quarts and a half per day. If this
be the fact, perhaps it is owing to the whole of the Edin¬
burgh cows being always in milk, none of them being kept
for years and bred from, as in the London dairies.
An extensive dairy was carried on a few years ago at
Glasgow, by Mr William Harley, and conducted with an
attention to the health and comfort of the animals, and
the purity of the milk, that has probably had no parallel
in Britain. The cows were of the Ayrshire breed, bought
in generally either newly calved, or a few weeks before
calving, and kept constantly in the house till they were
sent to the butcher. Their food was much the same as
in the Edinburgh dairies; but the turnips and potatoes
given in winter were always prepared with steam. I he
average quantity of milk was eleven quarts daily from each
cow, and it was delivered to the consumer from vessels so
constructed and secured as to prevent adulteration in its
passage from the dairy. This establishment, which was an
interesting object to strangers, exists no longer.
II. Butter Dairies.—This class is not confined, like the
former, to the immediate neighbourhood of towns, yet the
principal ones are situated at such a moderate distance as
to allow of their produce being sent thither in a fresh state.
Butter is made, indeed, in every part of the country, but
it is nevertheless the chief object of a great number o
dairies, which therefore form one leading division in this
department of husbandry.
It does not appear that any particular breed of cows, as
in milk dairies, is selected as most suitable for dairies of
this description ; nor that their food and general manage¬
ment differ materially from those of cows kept for other
purposes. Even in dairies of this class, butter, though the
chief object, is not one so exclusive as to prevent the cows
from being employed as a breeding stock. With this last
view they are almost of every different variety, according
as one or other breed is considered as the most profitable,
upon the whole, in different situations. They are com¬
monly the breed of the district where the dairy is situated,
and not, like the short horns kept in milk dairies, brought
from other quarters, with a particular view to this descrip¬
tion of produce. For an account of these breeds, see the
article Agriculture.
Butter is made either from cream taken from the milk,
or from the milk itself, the former method, however, be¬
ing still the most common. The best cream will be ready
for the skimming dish in seven or eight hours, though
twelve is the more usual period; and, according to the state
of the weather, it is allowed to stand from three to seven
days before it is put into the churn. The best tempera¬
ture at commencing the operation of churning is from fifty
to fifty-five degrees, and it should never exceed sixty.
The practice of churning the whole milk, which has long
prevailed, particularly in the western counties of Scotland,
does not seem to be generally known. Mr Marshall, in his
review of the original report of Cheshire, printed in 1794,
mentions it in 1810, as a singular variety in the English
butter dairy, that in Cheshire the milk and cream are
churned together without any previous separation.
The practice as it prevails in Scotland has been thus
described. The milk, when drawn from the cow, is placed
in coolers about three inches deep, and stands from twelve
to twenty-four hours; when the cream has risen to the
surface, the coolers are emptied into a stand-vat, where
the milk remains till churned. If another milking is ready
to be placed in the stand-vat before the former has be¬
gun to sour, the second also maybe put into it; but if ],
the first has soured, or is approaching to it, such admix-
ture, it is said, would lead to fermentation, and injure the
milk. The utmost care is always taken not to allow the
coagulum of the milk in the stand-vat to be broken till it
is about to be churned. If the house be of a proper tem-
perature, the milk may stand from a day to a week with-
out injury, till as much be collected as it may be conve¬
nient to churn at a time. No milk is ever churned till it
has become acid and coagulated.
The operation is generally performed in plunge-churns
of considerable size. Some of them, containing 120 Scotch
pints, are worked by a single person; and when machi-
nery is applied, 150 or 200 pints are churned at a time.
In a few minutes after the operation begins, as much warm
water is poured into the churn as raises the temperature
of the milk from fifty to fifty-five degrees of Fahrenheit
(being that of the dairy house), to seventy or seventy-five
degrees ; the churning always going on while the water is
slowly poured in. The milk will admit of a greater pro¬
portion of water in autumn, when it is rich, than in spring,
when it contains more serum. Probably one pint of water
may generally be added, one way or other, to every five or
six Scotch pints of milk in the early part of summer, and one
to four or five in winter. A certain proportion is consider-
ed indispensable, both for raising the cream and facilitat¬
ing churning ; but it is alleged that too much is often em¬
ployed, for the purpose of adding to the quantity of the
butter-milk. When milk is either overheated, or churned
too hastily, the butter is always soft, and of a white colour.
From two to three hours is a proper time for performing
the operation of churning.
In Renfrewshire, where nearly all the milk is employ¬
ed in the manufacture of butter and butter-milk, cows
have been hired by the year at L.13 or L.14.
The average yearly produce per cow of the butter-dai-A’ge
ries of England, according to Mr Marshall, is three fir-p: :ein
kins, of fifty-six pounds each. In Buckinghamshire theb* '•
rate is higher, a cow yielding five pounds per week for
forty weeks, or more than three and a half firkins. The
annual consumption of London has been computed at
50,000 tons, or two millions of firkins, which, at the rate
of three firkins per co,w, is equal to the butter produce of
667,000 cows. This would be in the proportion of three
quarters of a hundredweight to every individual in the
population, which is probably much above the truth; but
the demands for the shipping and other purposes must be
very considerable. |j i
The packing, salting, and selling of butter are regulat¬
ed by statutes, of which the most important is the 36th
Geo. III. c. 86. By these it is enacted, that every vessel
made for the packing of butter shall be marked with the
maker’s name and place of abode, and its own weight, and
shall be of a size to contain eighty-four pounds, called a
tub, or a firkin to contain fifty-six pounds, or a half firkin
of twenty-eight pounds ; and severe penalties are imposed
for the breach of these, and a variety of other regulations
for the prevention of fraud. . ;
The manufacture of butter leaves a large proportion ot
the milk applicable to other purposes. When the whole
milk is churned, the residuum is called butter-milk, which
is sold in towns at a penny per Scotch pint (about two im¬
perial quarts), and when delivered in a cleanly an pure
state, it is esteemed a wholesome and nutritious article ot
food by the labouring classes. If the cream only is em¬
ployed, there remains skimmed or sour milk, whichin sonie_
places, as in Buckinghamshire, where it is reduced by
peated skimmings for cream, is given to hogs ; but i i
more commonly made into inferior cheese, yielding w t y
as the last product, for the feeding of hogs.
tW:
DAIRY.
III. Cheese Dairies.—The English cheeses in greatest
jl repute are the Stilton, the Cheshire, and the Gloucester.
In making the first, “ the night’s cream is put to the
morning’s milk with the runnet,” the curd is not broken,
but allowed to drain gradually in a sieve, and gently press¬
ed till it becomes somewhat firm and dry; after which it
is placed in a box made exactly to fit it, and then bound
with cloths till it acquires sufficient firmness to support
itself. After the cloths are removed every cheese is
brushed once a day for two or three months. It is not
considered as ready for use until it is two years old. The
cheese of Cheshire and Gloucester are made of the whole
milk and cream, excepting that part of the cream is abstract¬
ed in the single Gloucester. The runnet in general use is a
pickle, prepared from the maw or stomach of a calf, of which
somewhat less than half an imperial pint suffices for fifty
gallons of milk; and when the cheese is to be coloured, an
ounce of Spanish arnotto will serve for an hundredweight.
At the time of setting the curd, the temperature of the
milk, according to Mr Marshall, should be from 85° to
90°, and should not, during the process, be allowed to lose
more than 5° or 7°. When the coagulation has taken
place, the curd is repeatedly broken or cut with a knife,
and the whey drawn off; and then, after salt has been in¬
timately mixed with it, it is packed into a vat with holes
in the bottom, over which a cloth has been spread, and
with which it is covered up and put into the cheese press.
Here it usually remains the first time for two hours, after
which it is taken out and put into a vessel of hot whey for
an hour or two to harden its skin, and again, wrapped in
fresh dry cloths, submitted to the action of the press from
time to time. In one of these intervals it is rubbed with
salt, sweated, and its rough edges or other projections
are carefully pared away. When finally removed from the
press to the room where it is to be kept, which should be
cool and dry, it is turned at first every day, and afterwards
at short intervals, until it is ready for use.
Besides the cheeses made in Scotland in imitation of
the English kinds, Ayrshire and the other western coun¬
ties have long been noted for what is called Dunlop cheese,
of which the following account has been collected from
the Agricultural Reports.
When such a number of cows are kept as to yield milk
sufficient for a cheese of tolerable size, at every milking
the milk is passed through a sieve, provincially termed
a milsey, to remove impurities, into a boyne or vat, and
formed into curd by a mixture of runnet. As milk re¬
quires to be coagulated as nearly as possible at its heat
when drawn from the cow, and as it must cool some¬
what in milking and passing through the sieve, it is neces¬
sary to pour a quantity of warm water into it in the curd-
vat.
Where the cows on a farm are not so numerous as to
give milk sufficient to make a cheese every time they are
milked, the milk is stored about three or four inches deep
in coolers, till as much is collected as will form one of a
proper size. When the cheese is to be made, the cream
is skimmed from the milk in the coolers, and, without be¬
ing heated, is passed through a sieve or drainer, along with
the milk which is drawn from the cows at the time, into
the curd-vat; and the skimmed milk being heated, so as
to raise the temperature of the whole mass to about the
heat of new milk, and also passed through the drainer, the
whole is coagulated by runnet, carefully mixed with the
milk. The cream is put into the curd-vat cold, that its
oily parts may not be melted.
The temperature at which the milk is kept, from the
time it is drawn from the cows till it is formed into cheese,
ought to be carefully attended to. To make it cool, and
to facilitate the rising of the cream, a small quantity of
591
cold water is generally poured into each cooler, If kept Dairy,
much warmer than 55 degrees of Fahrenheit, it will not
properly cast up the cream, a thing necessary, even when
the whole is to be formed into cheese ; and it will very soon
become sour. And, if it gets into a lower temperature,
the milk never coagulates so well; the cheese made from
it is soft and inadhesive, and the whey is separated with
difficulty. It is not enough that the temperature be raised
to the proper degree when coagulated; if it has, prior to
that, become too cold, the heat at setting the curd will
not do away the bad effects of the previous cold. It is
said to be owing to the milk being allowed to cool too
much before it is coagulated, that it becomes difficult to
get it formed into cheese in winter, and that the cheese
made at that season is so soft and tasteless.
Whenever the milk has coagulated, the whey is drawn
off as fast as possible ; and, to facilitate its separation, the
curd is minutely broken, or cut with a knife. When the
whey has been mostly extracted, the curd is put into a
drainer, and again cut and pressed, to expel it more com¬
pletely. It is next broken small, minutely mixed with
salt, and put into the cheese-vat, with a piece of thin
canvass round it; and pressure is applied till the whey
is wholly extracted and the cheese formed. It remains
the first time about an hour, and afterwards three or four
hours each time, in the press, getting a dry cloth, and its
position being reversed, every time it is replaced. Skewers
are never put into the sides of the cheese to extract the
whey, as is common in England.
Some have of late shortened the process of pressing,
by placing the cheese, when it comes from the press for
the first time, into water heated to about 95 or 100 de¬
grees, where it remains till the water falls to the heat of
new milk. It is then driedjvell, and again placed under
the press.
Salt is generally applied without measure or weight,
but the proper rate is said to be about half an ounce to
every pound of cheese, or thirteen ounces to twenty-four
pounds.
When the cheeses come from the press, they are ex¬
posed for about a week to a considerable degree of
drought, and turned over twice every twenty-four hours,
and afterwards laid on boards in a close cool room, and
turned over twice a week. The practice of sweating
cheeses after they come from the press, and before they
are laid up to dry, which is so common in England, is not
approved of in Scotland, from an idea that it impoverishes
the cheese, by melting part of its fat.
All the operations are carried on in Scotland by women.
Men would think themselves degraded were they to assist
in milking the cows or making the cheese.
Besides one or two meal cheeses, in which the milk is
fresh or sweet, a great deal of cheese is made from milk
from which cream has been taken, and which has there¬
fore been allowed to stand longer. This may be consider¬
ed as a subordinate branch of the butter dairy, where but¬
ter is made from cream, as is still the most general prac¬
tice; but the process does not require to be described, as
it is not materially different from that which prevails in
what may be more properly called a cheese dairy. Suf- Skimmed
folk has been long noted for cheese of this description, milk
Yet the celebrated Parmesan is said to be made of milk cheese.
from which the cream has been taken ; nor, in the process
of its manufacture, as described in the Bath Papers (vol.
vii.), and by Cadell in his Journey in Carniola (8vo,
1818), does there appear any thing worthy of particular
notice, unless it be that the coagulation is effected in a
cauldron suspended over a fire, and probably, therefore,
at a higher temperature. The best kind of Parmesan is
that which has been kept at least three years.
DAIRY.
Average
produce in
cheese.
Whey
butter
Flit-milk,
Veal.
The average yearly produce of cheese from the milk of
a cow is, according to Marshall, from three to four hun¬
dredweight, or more than double the weight of butter. It
four and a half quarts of milk commonly yield one pound
of cheese, a cow that gives two thousand quarts in a year
should produce about four hundredweight of cheese. It
has'been calculated that Cheshire alone makes no less than
11,500 tons in a year. < .
In many of the English cheese dairies, a quantity ot in¬
ferior butter is obtained from the whey. In some parts o
Gloucestershire, and in Cheshire, this produce is rated at
half a pound per cow in the week, which sells at iiom a
penny to twopence a pound less than milk butter. In some
instances, what is called the “green whey, .or that which
is taken from the cheese-tub after the curd is formed, and
the “ white,” or that which is expressed from the curd
itself, are at first treated separately, the former being
heated, as soon as it has parted with the curd, till it throws
up a little white froth, and the latter set by till it is at
least a day old. This last is then added to the furnace-
pan that contains the green whey, from which mixture
a substance is thrown up something in appearance between
cream and curd, which is constantly skimmed oft as long
as it rises, and put into the cream mugs to be churned
for butter. In the practice of other dairies the white whey
only seems to be used, and, after standing some time in
these mugs to acidulate for churning, the butter is obtain¬
ed from it in the same way as from milk. The green and
the white whey are, in other instances, both heated toge¬
ther, to which, if perfectly sweet, a little acid is some¬
times added.
Whey, whether butter be made from it or not, is some¬
times subjected to further operations, to fit it for human
, food. Fleetings, or flit-milk, made by pouring butter-milk
upon whey, is a common beverage among the farm ser¬
vants of Cheshire. But the purpose to which it is chiefly
applied is the feeding of pigs, for which it is worth about
a guinea for every cow. From the whey obtained from the
milk of four cows, it has been calculated that a hog may,
in one season, and with very little other food, be raised to
the weight of twelve or fifteen stone.
On the subject of cream, a product common to all the
three classes of dairies, though of greatest value in the
situation proper to new milk dairies, that is, in or near
towns, it is only necessary to observe, that the sale of it
affords a ready resource whenever all the milk cannot be
disposed of in a fresh state, and also when, from the sea¬
son of the year, or other circumstances, the manufacture
of cheese must be discontinued. But there is yet ano¬
ther branch of dairying that deserves attention, namely,
the fatting of calves ; and this also may be, and usually is,
carried on, at least occasionally, at dairies of every de¬
scription. As milk is their chief, and in most cases their
only food, its employment in this way may be considered
as merely another mode of preparing it for the use of
man.
Calves are either suckled or fed from the pail. In the
county of Middlesex, where a great many are fatted by
the first mode, the calves are kept in pens of seven or
eight feet square. There are seldom more than four
calves in one pen, which has only one door, and that is to¬
wards the cows. Particular care is taken to keep these
places free from dirt of every kind, and well bedded with
clean straw. On one side of every pen is placed a small
trough, at such a height as to prevent its receiving any
soil; this is always kept supplied with chalk, both in lumps
and in powder, not with a view to render the veal white, as
some persons erroneously suppose, but with the intention
of preventing acidity in the stomach. W ithout this pre¬
caution they would be liable to scour, which always pre¬
vents their thriving, and sometimes occasions the death of Da 1
the animal. Some persons mix ground barley with theW, ‘
chalk, and others give them daily balls, made of linseed
jelly and barley-meal, to render them more fat, or fat in
less time than could be done with milk alone. They are
suckled at precisely the same time every twelve hours,
generally at six o’clock. Any considerable deviation in
time would occasion their being fretful, and that would
impede their becoming fat. In about ten weeks they
make the best veal; though they are frequently conti¬
nued eleven or twelve weeks, with increase of weight;
but in that case the joints of meat become large, and the
grain of the veal coarse. The large calves also sell at
a less price per stone than such as are of a moderate
size.
In the western counties of Scotland, where cheese dai¬
ries prevail, the calves are fed from the pail, suckling being
considered as injurious to the cows; and as the cows will
not readily suckle any but their own calves, a calf would
thus be often confined to the milk of only one cow. It is the
practice there to give to those that are to be reared the
first drawn milk, which is thin, and abounds with serum;
and to such as are fatting, the last drawn milk of two, or
perhaps of three cows. They have no other food; and
bleeding is never used with a view to expedite their fat¬
tening, as in some dairies. A little bacon or mutton
broth is administered when a purgative is necessary;
and runnet is used for an opposite purpose if they begin
to scour. But the ordinary management consists in mere¬
ly supplying them with abundance of the richest milk,
after the first two or three weeks, and keeping them dry,
by means of plenty of litter, in a dark, well-aired apart¬
ment, not exposed to the extremes of either heat or cold.
The apartments required, and their arrangement, asApa:
well as the furniture and implements, necessarily depend™1^
upon the extent of the dairy establishment, and the mainuteit
purpose for which it is carried on. In all, there should
be a room for the milk separate from that in which the
necessary operations are performed, or the produce stored
up. The milking pails are of wood or tin, the latter pre¬
ferable, as being more easily and thoroughly cleansed.
The vessels in which the milk is deposited to throw up
the cream, or the coolers, which are usually of a circular
form, may be of wood, lead, pottery, or iron; the latter,
when tinned within, with a plug which admits of the milk
being drawn off, leaving the cream behind, have been much
approved of. Of churns, some are WTOUght like a pump,
called plunge churns, and others are of a barrel form, the
apparatus for giving the necessary agitation to the milk
being worked by a handle on the outside. The cheese-
press is commonly constructed of wood, and the power
obtained by a screw, though sometimes by a lever with
weights attached. Skimming dishes, and a variety ot
minor articles, in which there is nothing to require a de¬
tailed description, will naturally suggest themselves as
indispensable in the management of every dairy.
The operations of the dairy, in all its branches, are still aj ^
conducted perhaps more empirically than those ot any^
other department of husbandry, though it would appearfon]
that science, chemistry in particular, might be applied to
discover the principles and regulate the practice ot t ie
art with facility and precision. We have heard it admit¬
ted, even by experienced dairymen, that the quality o
their cheeses differs materially in the same season, with¬
out their being able to assign a reason. Every one knows
how different the cheese of Gloucester is from that oi
Cheshire, though both are made from fresh milk, thepio-
duce of cows of the same breed, or rather, in both coun¬
ties, of almost every breed, and fed on pastures tha
not exhibit any remarkable difference in soil, clima e,
DAIRY.
593
)airj
esitler
)icas' 1
ometei
MrsLo
beads,
herbage. Even in the same district, some of what must
appear the most important points are far from being set¬
tled in practice. Mr Marshall, in his Rural Economy of
Gloucestershire, has registered a number of observations
,on the heat of the dairy-room, and of the milk, when the
runnet was applied in cheese-making, on the time requir-
i ed for coagulation, and the heat of the whey afterwards,
which are curious, only because they prove that no uni-
iform rule is observed in any of these particulars. The
same discrepancy is observable in all the subsequent ope¬
rations, till the cheese is x-emoved from the press, and
i even afterwards in the drying-room. One would think
the process of salting the cheeses the most simple of all;
;and yet it is sometimes, as in the west of Scotland, mixed
with the curd; in other instances, poured into the milk,
in a liquid state, before being coagulated ; and still more
commonly little or none is applied till the cheeses are
formed in the press, and then only externally in the salting
room. Our limits do not permit us to describe this great
diversity of practice, nor is it necessary, as it does not ap¬
pear which method is entitled to a prefei'ence.
, As the first step towards scientific improvement in the
practice of the dairy, it would be desirable to obtain a
simple and accurate test of the quality of milk, or the pro¬
portion in which its three component parts, oleaginous,
caseous, and- serous, ai*e combined in every instance. By
means of this, it would not only be known beforehand
what the produce of milk, in each of these parts, ought to
be under con-ect management; but also, by applying it to
the milk of different breeds, and of the same breed kept
on different kinds of food, the most pi-ofitable description
of cows, and the most beneficial mode of feeding them,
according to the purpose for which their milk was to be
employed, would in time be determined. The changes
which are understood to take place jn milk during the ges¬
tation of the animal, and at certain intervals from the
period of its parturition, and such also as depend upon its
age, might perhaps be detected by the habitual employ¬
ment of such an instrument.
The importance of a test of this kind has not escaped
the attention of ingenious men. Mr Dicas, a mathemati¬
cal instrument-maker in Liverpool, and well known by his
invention for trying the strength of spirituous liquors and
worts, many years ago constructed what has been called a
lactometer, an instrument for ascertaining “ the richness
of milk from its specific gravity, compai’ed with water, by
its degree of warmth taken by a thermometer, on com¬
paring its specific gravity with its warmth.” “ If the
principle be right,” says the author of the Lancashire
Report, “ by this maybe discovered not only the qualities
of the milk of different cows, pastures, foods, as tuimips,
potatoes, grains, &c. but also probably which may be the
best milk, or best pastures for butter, and which for
cheese.” Another invention for the same purpose came
under the notice of the Highland Society of Scotland in
June 1816, in a Report from a committee of their num¬
ber, prepared by Dr Hope, professor of chemistry in the
University of Edinburgh. The subject of it was the pa¬
tent aerometric beads, invented by Mrs Lovi of this city,
fhe committee were of opinion that these beads might be
introduced into the dairy with a reasonable prospect of
practical utility. The importance of such a test, as well
us the difficulty of obtaining one that would immediately
indicate the quality of the milk, arising from the different
specific gravities of its parts, and also the mode of using
these beads, may be seen from the following observations
of the committee:
“ Were milk a liquor, the value of which, as of many
other fluids, is indicated by its specific gravity, the appli¬
cation of the beads would be simple, and their testimony
VOL. VII.
immediate. This, however, is not the case. Milk is a Dairy,
compound fluid, consisting in a great measure of water, 'w’"V"^
and owing its valuable qualities principally to the curd
and butter which it contains. The richest milk abounds
in oil and curd, and the pooi’est in water. As the oil is
lighter than water, and the curd heavier, the quantity of
these ingredients is not indicated by the specific gravity;
for were these substances in milk in certain proportions,
they would not affect the specific gravity of the fluid, how¬
ever large the quantity of them might be, the one coun¬
teracting the other.
“ Milk possesses a specific gravity gx-eater than that of
water, which it derives in part fi'om the saccharo-saline
matters belonging to the whey, and in part from the curd ;
and it approaches more neaidy the specific gravity of wa¬
ter, the greater quantity of water it has, or the greater
the proportion of cream. Hence a low specific gi’avity
indicates either much richness or great poverty ; and, con¬
sequently, the gravity of this fluid is not an immediate
indication of its quality. The information given by the
beads will, however, be valuable, if the specific gravity be
examined after the cream is removed, as well as before.
“ When milk is tried as soon as it cools, say to 60°,
and again after it has been thoroughly skimmed, it will be
found that the skimmed milk is of considerably greater
gravity; and as this increase depends upon the separation
of the lighter cream, the amount of the increase, or the
difference between the specific gravity of the fresh and
skimmed milk, will bear proportion to, and may be em¬
ployed as a measui’e of, the relative quantities of the oily
matter or butter contained in different milks. In this
manner, therefore, by discovering by these beads the dif-
fei’ence in the specific gi'avity of milk when new, and after
being skimmed, the relative values of this liquor for giv¬
ing butter may be certainly and easily determined.
“ The committee conceive that it would be of much
importance to ascertain, by carefully-conducted experi¬
ments, the exact quantity of butter furnished by a given
measure of milk of different degi'ees of richness, the spe¬
cific gravities of which have been examined before and
after the separation of the cream. By such experiments,
the quantity of butter corresponding to each degree of
change in the specific gx-avity may be determined; and
then the aerometric beads will serve to indicate, not only
the relative qualities of diffei'ent milks, for the purpose of
butter-making, but also the actual quantity of butter that
any given quantity of milk ought to afford.
“ That such information may prove of consequence in
regulating the business of the dairy, is too obvious to re¬
quire illusfration.
“ The specific gravity of skimmed milk depends both
on the quantity of the saccharo-saline matters and of the
curd. To estimate the x’elative quantities of curd, and by
that determine the value of milk, for the purpose of yield¬
ing cheese, it is only required to curdle the skim milk,
and ascertain the specific gravity of the whey. The whey
will, of course, be found of lower specific gravity than the
skimmed milk; and the number of degrees of difference
affords a measure of the relative quantities of the curd.
“ By a proper series of experiments, the quantity of
cheese equivalent to each degree of the diminution of
gravity in a given measure of this fluid, might be detex-
mined.
“ Hence it appears to your committee, that the aero¬
metric beads may be employed to explore the quality of
milk, in relation both to the manufacture of butter and
cheese; and your committee beg leave to direct the at¬
tention of the society to this subject.”
On the subject of new milk dairies, see Holt’s General
View of the Agriculture of Lancashire, 1795; Middleton’s
4 F
594
DAL
Dakir Middlesex, 1807; Sir John Sinclair’s Husbandry of Scot-
II land, and the General Report of Scotland, vol. hi. and Ap-
Dalgarno. pendix, vol. ii. The best account of butter and cheese
dairies is to be found in the writings of Mr Marshall, par-
DAL
ticularly in his Rural Economy of Gloucestershire. See Dal,
also Wedge’s and Holland’s Cheshire; Smith’s Galloway; W
Alton’s Ayrshire; and Prize Essays and Transactions of
the Highland Society of Scotland, vol. v. part i. (D.)
DAKIR, in our statutes, is used for the twentieth part
of a last of hides'. According to the statute of 51 Henry 111.
De cornpositione ponderum et mensurarurn, & last of hides
consists of twenty dakirs, and every dakir of ten hides.
But by 1 Jac. cap. 33, a last of hides or skins is equal to
twelve dozen. , . , . ...
DALACA, an island in the Red Sea, which is said to
be very fertile, populous, and remarkable for a pearl hs i-
ery. It is probably the same with Dahalak, which see.
D ALAPIRI, one of the smaller Philippine Islands, about
thirty miles in circumference. It lies due north from the
large island of Luzon, or Luconia. Long. 121. 20. L. Bat.
19 15. N.
DALECHAMP, James, a French physician and bota¬
nist, was born at Caen, in Normandy, in 1513. He was dis¬
tinguished for his industry and erudition, both in science
and in literature. He wrote notes on Pliny s Natural His¬
tory, and translated Athenmus into Latin. He added thirty
plates of rare plants to the Dioscorides of Ruelhus, printed
in 1552; and after his death appeared his Histona gene-
ralis Plantarum in libros xviii. per certas classes artijiciose
digesta, Lugd. 1587, two vols. folio. In this work, which
is said to have been the labour of thirty years, the author
proposed to include all the botanical discoveries previous¬
ly to his own time, as well as those which he had made
himself in the vicinity of Lyons and the Alps. He also
published editions of Paulus TEgineta, and Ccelius Aure-
lianus, with notes; besides a work on surgery, and ano¬
ther De Peste, in three books. He practised physic at
Lyons from 1552 to 1558, when he died, at the advanced
age of seventy-five.
D’ALEMBERT. See Alembert.
D ALGARNO, George, an almost forgotten but highly
meritorious and original writer, was born in Old Aberdeen
about the year 1626. He appears to have studied at Ma-
rischal College, New Aberdeen, but for what length of
time, or with what objects, is wholly unknown. In 1657
he went to Oxford, where, according to Anthony Wood,
“ he taught a private grammar school with good success
for about thirty years.” (Athen. Oxon. vol. ii. p. 506-7.)
He died of a fever on the 28th August 1687, and was
buried, says the same author, “ in the north body of the
Church of St Mary Magdalen.” Such is the scanty bio¬
graphy which has been preserved of a man who lived in
friendship with the most eminent philosophers of his day,
and who, besides other original speculations, had the sin¬
gular merit of anticipating, a hundred and fifty years ago,
some of the most profound conclusions of the present age
respecting the education of the deaf and dumb. His work
upon this subject is entitled Didascalocophus, or the Deaf
and Dumb Mans Tutor, and was printed in a very small
volume at Oxford in 1680. He states the design of it to
be, to bring the way of teaching a deaf man to read and
write, as nearly as possible to that of teaching young ones
to speak and understand their mother tongue. “ In pro¬
secution of this general idea,” says an eminent philosopher
.of our own time, who on more than one occasion did his
endeavour to rescue the name of Dalgarno from oblivion,
“ he has treated in one short chapter, of a Deaf Mans Dic¬
tionary ; and, in another, of a Grammar for Deaf Persons ;
both of them containing a variety of precious hints, from
which useful practical lights might be derived by all who
have any concern in the tuition of children during the
first stage of their education.” (Mr Dugald Stewart’s
Account of a Boy born Blind and Deaf. Transactions of
the Royal Society of Edinb. vol. vii.) Twenty years be¬
fore the publication of his Didascalocophus, Dalgarno had
given to the world a very ingenious piece entitled Ars Sig-
norum, from which, says Mr Stewart, it appears indisput¬
ably that he was the precursor of Bishop Wilkins in his
speculations concerning “ a real character and a philoso¬
phical language.” Anthony Wood tells us expressly, in-
deed, that Dalgarno communicated this piece to Wilkins
before it was published, and that it was from it that the
latter took the hint of his celebrated work. It is highly
discreditable to Wilkins that he takes no notice whatever
of the name of Dalgarno; and Dr Wallis must share the
same censure. “ That Dalgarno’s suggestions with respect
to the education of the dumb were not altogether useless
to Dr Wallis, will be readily admitted by those,” says Mr
Stewart, “ who take the trouble to compare his Letter to
Mr Beverly, published eighteen years o/ter-Dalgarno’s trea¬
tise, with his Tractatus de Loquela, published in 1653. In
this Letter some valuable remarks are to be found on the
method of leading the dumb to the signification of words,
and yet the name of Dalgarno is not once mentioned to
his correspondent.” That notice which the English pro¬
fessors, who borrowed from them, ungenerously withheld
from the writings of the Scottish schoolmaster, was libe¬
rally bestowed upon them by a far greater man of another
country, namely, Leibnitz, who has, on various occasions,
alluded to the Ars Signorum in commendatory terms.
DALKEITH, a town of Scotland, in the county of
Edinburgh. It is situated on a narrow strip of land be¬
tween the two Esks, the banks of which are beautifully
wooded, and embellished with the seats of families of the
first distinction. The origin of Dalkeith is referred to a
respectable antiquity, having gradually risen into exist¬
ence from the proximity of a castle long known as one of
the chief baronial strongholds south of the Forth. The
town has been very much improved in appearance within
the last thirty years. It is tolerably well built, and the
principal street is spacious. In it stands the town-church,
an old Gothic edifice, partly in ruins. It was originally the
chapel of the castle, and in 1406 was raised to the dignity
of a collegiate church ; but after the Reformation it became
the parish kirk. Besides the established church, theieare
several dissenting meeting houses. Dalkeith is the l^g^st
country town in the county of Edinburgh. It is chiefly
supported by an industrious population in the near neigh¬
bourhood, employed at the collieries, which are numerous,
or in agriculture. Besides all the common trades, there
are manufactories of leather and candles, an iron foun ery,
and a brewery. The largest market for grain in Scotland
is held here every Thursday; also a meal market on tne
Mondays, and one for fat cattle and sheep on the lues-
days ; and there is likewise an annual fair for horses m
May. The town has an excellent subscription library, a
grammar school, and a number of beneficent and rehg'ous
associations, with a poor-house for the destitute, u ei
is a burgh of barony under the Duke of Buccleuch, w
appoints a bailie to superintend its affaiis. ie,SeaTt
that nobleman is in the immediate neighbourhood,
erected on the site of an ancient castle which belonge
the Regent Morton, who suffered in 1581. The trad
the town is assisted by branches of the National, L
DAL
mercial, and Leith Banks. The population of the town
and parish amounted in 1821 to 5169, and in 1831 to
5586.
DALMATIA, a province of the Austrian dominions,
land commonly denominated a kingdom. It was first added
;to the Roman empire by Augustus. After the fall of the
western empire it became part of the kingdom of the Goths,
until 620, when it was overrun by the Sclavonians, who
founded a kingdom which existed till the beginning of the
eleventh century, when it came under the power or pro¬
tection of the Venetians, and part of it remained subject to
that state as long as it continued an independent power;
but the portion of it which lies beyond the Zermania was
seized by the Turks, and has now lost the name of Dal¬
matia, forming the province of Hersuk.
The present kingdom of Dalmatia is situated between
!12° 15' and 44° 54' north latitude, and 18° 10' and 18° 48'
east longitude. It is extended along the shores of the
Adriatic, but not continuously, as the small part of the
Turkish territory near Mount Xaba interposes between
the northern part and Ragusa, where it reaches to the
shore of the Adriatic. The extent of Dalmatia is 6600
square miles, or 4,225,000 English acres. The number
of its inhabitants in 1821 amounted to 344,055, most of
whom are of Sclavonic origin; but in the cities there
are some Germans and Italians. The Roman Catholic is
the prevailing religion, though about 60,000 persons are
of the Greek communion. The character of the greater
part of the inhabitants is original, and has undergone but
little change during many centuries. The mountaineers,
especially near Ragusa, are almost in the savage state.
The greater part of this narrow and long district on the
shore is defended by a succession of islands, with excellent
natural canals, navigable, between them and the mainland.
There are numerous good havens, which are well defend¬
ed against storms by these islands. The land on the coast
is generally intersected by lofty mountains, between which
are valleys of greater or less extent, which are highly fer¬
tile when cultivated; but from the thin population and the
few wants of the inhabitants, the greater part of the king¬
dom is left in a state of nature.
The climate is mild, and nearly of the same character
as that of the south of Italy ; but the many marshes on the
coast, especially in the vicinity of Zara, and near the
mouths of the Narenta, produce much malaria, and engen¬
der many fevers. Frost and snow are rarely seen, and are
quite unknown in the valley's. The winter scarcely lasts
more than six weeks, and is accompanied with much rain,
so that the passion-flower and the verbena triphylla grow
in the open air throughout summer and winter.
The chief products are horses of a small size, but strong
and active, sheep of the woolled kind, goats, cows, swine,
game, both sea and river fish, silk worms, and cantha-
rides. It scarcely grows sufficient corn for the consump¬
tion, but exchanges for it a wine very strong and fiery,
olives, raisins, currants, and timber. There is marble and
alabaster raised from the quarries, and abundance of fossil,
coal, and some iron from mines. The rivers of Dalmatia
are of short course, but deep and rapid. The Zermagna
or Zermania rises in the mountain Wellebith, and empties
itself into the sea in the Bay of Morlachia. The Kerka
springs in a grotto above Knin, and forms five most beau¬
tiful cascades before it falls into the Bay of Sebenico. The
DAL
Settina has one waterfall of more than 150 feet, and a Dairympie.
second at Mala Gubowitza before it reaches the sea. The
other rivers are, the Narenta, the Suikorina, and the Om-
bla. There are several fresh-water lakes ; the largest are
those of Noyigrad, Narin, Trocklean, and Prelosatz.
I he divisions of the kingdom are into five provinces,
namely, Zara, Spalatro, Makarska, Ragusa, and Cattaro,
which are subdivided into districts. The government re¬
mains as under the Venetians, but some parts seem to have
a kind of rude independence of Austria, as they formerly
had of Venice. The district of Poglezza forms a state
within the state, having 16,000 warriors, who maintain
their right to choose their own general and other officers
every year. They pay no taxes, but make a present as
suits them, according to the state of the harvests. This
republican privilege has hitherto been respected by the
emperor, who finds his account in the military inhabitants
being always in readiness to repel any hostility on the part
of their neighbours the Turks.
The cities and their population are as follow; Zara 4856,
Spalatro 6750, Ragusa 6500, and Cattaro 2250.
DALRYMPLE, James, Viscount of Stair, who bears
the greatest name in the annals of Scotish jurisprudence,
was the son of James Dalrymple of Stair, by his wife Ja¬
net, the daughter of Fergus Kennedy of Knockdaw, and
was born in the month of May 1619, at Dunmorchie in
the parish of Barr and county of Ayr. The family from
which he descended was at an early period distinguished
by its love of religious liberty : Dalrymple of Stair is men¬
tioned among the Lollards of Kyle. Before he had attain¬
ed the fifth year of his age, he lost his father,1 and the care
of his education devolved upon his mother, who is de¬
scribed as a woman of an excellent spirit, and who sur¬
vived her husband for nearly forty years. The first ele¬
ments of learning he acquired at Mauchline school, and
at the age of fourteen was sent to the university of Glas¬
gow, where he took the degree of A. M. in 1637. He
repaired to Edinburgh in the course of the ensuing year,
and obtained a commission in the earl of Glencairn’s re¬
giment, but he did not long adhere to the military profes¬
sion. In 1641 he was encouraged to offer himself as a
candidate for a vacant professorship of philosophy at Glas¬
gow. In those old-fashioned times, the comparative me¬
rit of candidates was a circumstance not entirely disre¬
garded : their comparative merit was ascertained by a
fair and open competition ; on this occasion, Captain Dal¬
rymple presented himself in buff and scarlet, and was with
great applause declared to be the successful competitor.
He retained his commission for some time after he be¬
came professor of philosophy. He was admitted on the
12th of March, and became bound by an oath to resign
his professorship in case of marriage. As a preparation
for such a step, he accordingly resigned it on the 4th of
September 1643, and was immediately re-elected. On
the 21st of the same month, he married Margaret, the
eldest daughter of James Ross of Balneil in the county
of Wigton, with whom he acquired a large estate. They
are said to have lived together in great happiness; but,
according to the statement of one of his descendants,
Lord Hailes, his happiness must have been in his own
mind, for “ he could not have much happiness from the
complacency of his wife.”
After his return to Glasgow, he appears to have applied
1 Sir John Dalrymple has stated that “ he lost his estate in his youth, for killing the murderer of his father; and was obliged,
upon that account, to fly from his country. When the civil war broke out, he returned to Scotland, and commanded a troop of dra¬
goons in the parliament’s service.” (Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. i. p. 216.) Part of this account, and some particu¬
lars which he subjoins, are evidently inaccurate. It is expressly stated by Forbes that Dalrymple commanded, not a troop
of dragoons, but a company of foot. This story of murder and vengeance we have not found confirmed by any other au-
596
DALRYMPLE.
^ of formins connexions which he afterwards found to be ever m.ght be h,s views or feehngs as to Cromwell s go¬
of considerable advantage. Not satisfied with his present vernment, it is probable that his practice at the bar may
acauisTtions he devoted much attention to the study of have been more lucrative. He was admitted on the 1st
the Greek and Latin languages, with the history and an- of July, and his appointment was confirmed by the pro.
inuUies of Greece and Rome/and to all his other pur- lector on the 25th ot the same month. In this situation,
tiquities or irreece anu iv ;n which he llis interest was beneficially exerted in procuring for the
m.S have been l is own preceptor. His colleagues had gentlemen connected with the counties where his estates
must nave neen nit. u \ 1 , h frequent. were situated, a redress of grievances from the council or
easily discovered S, pro- the English officers; and by thus enlarging the sphere of
ly had occasion to v 8 . , t] n. his utility, he encreased his connexions, and strengthened
secution of?0™ f u" ve's;7?Xial procedure, and his personal influence. He obtained so considerable a
became acquainted wit/the most eminent men on the share of Monk's confidence, that the day before he began
bench and at the bar. Having adopted the resolution of that march which deeded the fate of three kingdoms, he
bencli anJ at uje oa • 5 J the ]aWj he resigned held a private conference with Dalrymple, and requested
Ms diafrt the year 1647, and was admitted an advocate him to deliver his unreserved opinion as to the best method
™ the 17th of February 1648, being then in the twenty- of restoring tranquillity and regular government. The
ninth year of his age. He soon rose to professional emi- learned judge readily answered that the wisest and
nence After the execution of the king, the committee fairest way was to procure a meeting of a full and ree
of estates dispatched certain commissioners to his son at parliament.” This sound advice was ultimately adopted,
Rredu for the purpose of inviting him to Scotland: Dal- at least to a certain extent; and of Monk, who was de-
iwmole was annoinLd to act as their secretary, and he termined to make his own fortune, without regard M any
appears” have acquitted himself to the satisfaction of party?"* it must at least be admitted that he acquitted him-
both narties in this weighty negociation. In Holland he sell with sufficient dexterity. ,
v“sfted several learned mem aiul particularly Salmasius, Soon after the Restoration, Dalrymple accompanied the
who held an honorary professorship in the university of earl of Cass,11,s to London, in order to pay his respect,
Leyden He returned home in the course of the ensuing to the king. On this occasion he received the honour
year 1650: but during his absence, he had been nomi- of knighthood; and h,s name was inserted in the first
ii itedbv the estates one of the commissioners for revising commission to the judges of the coui t of session, dated
ftifold tooL of aw, the acts of parliament, and the prac- on the 13th of February 1661 During the absence of
ice of the different judicatures. On the 29th of May he the lord president, it was customary to appoint a vice-
was sent to the north, along with Arthur Erskineof Soots- president; and, except ,n one instance, when he was
craig with instructions to attend the king's landing? He himself absent at the same time, the choice uniformly
experienced a favourable reception, and appears to have fell upon Sir James Dalrymple. After an interval ot
engaged very zealously in the royal cause ; but it is well two years, he was exposed to some degree oi uneasiness
known that 'the efforts of the Scotish royalists to place by the operation of the statutes which lequired the oath
Cha-les on the English throne were unavailing to him, of allegiance to be accompanied with a declaration against
,nes r . \ the national covenant adopted in 1638, and the solemn
^^ah ymple1 2 3 * continued his practice at the bar till the im- league and covenant adopted in 1643, as being contrary
position ofwhat was called the Tender, when several other to the fundamental laws and liberties of the kingdom.
eminent lawyers likewise retired. He however resumed Dalrymple was m the country attending the funeial o
h™ ploL wfen Cromwdl's rvernment either dispensed his mother when this ill-timed declaration was tendered
withUie oath, or connived at its omission. In the year to his colleagues, and when all who were in town sub-
1656 he was included in a deputation of four advocates scribed it, with the solitary exception ot Sir James Dun-
who were sent to remonstrate with the commissioners for das of Arniston. The earl of Glencairn, lord chance ,
the administration of justice, on the expediency of restor- communicated to him the ,kin| S
ing the ancient practice of the outer-house, which these cil to declare vacant the places of f
republican iudees had suppressed. This remonstrance to subscribe; and in his answer, dated at Ayi on the loth
was attended with the deswed effect. On the 26th of of January 1664, he stated that he h5ad a|rea^ rg 0df
June 1657, Sir James Learmonth of Balcomy, one of the his commission into the king s hands After the ap t
judges, expired on the bench ; and on the very same day, a few months, he was invited to com t, and was “
a commission, appointing Dalrymple in his place, was with an audience of his majesty, who gracious yrece vea
signed by General Monk in the name of the protector’s his explanations, and was pleased to in^rm kiai [ j
council in Scotland. In a letter written three days be- would not accept his resignation Jhe ^nscientious
fore, the general had recommended him to Cromwell as judge stated that he was willing to declare aga ns no
“ a person fit to be a judge, being a very honest man, a more than what was opposite to his ^jesty s just ng^
good lawier, and one of a considerable estate and now, and prerogative. A letter from t ie ‘ and his
describing him as a person of eminent abilities, he craved of April, restored him to his seat on t ’
his highness’s approbation of the choice which the coun- declaration was afterwards received witl q
i In the Advocates Library there is an octavo MS. which bears the following title: ‘‘Gompendium Logic* sub viro n°n
parum erudito Magistro Jacobo Dalrymple, anno Domini 1643.” It contains notes of the professor s lectures on logic, taken Dy
student named Robert Law.
2 Balfour’s Annalesof Scotland, vol. iv. p. 18.
3 Thurloe’s State-Papers, vol. vi. p. 367. 372.
“ Brodie’s Hist, of the British Empire, vol. iv. p. 484. „ _ Wwe kindness we are
3 Of this letter to the earl of Glencairn, the original is in the possession of Thomas Thomson, Esq. to whose kina
likewise indebted for the use of various other documents connected with the personal history oi Lord Stair.
DALRYMPLE.
wn:. tion. During the interval, he had made an excursion to
'ry* France : he left London on the 22d, and reached Paris on
the 29th of April.1 On the 2d of June ensuing, he was
created a baronet. While at the bar, he had refused all
employment in criminal cases, and under the protectorate
he had declined to act in the criminal court. After the
Restoration, he was offered the place of king’s advocate,
or that of a judge in the court of justiciary: but, says For¬
bes, “ he excus’d himself, alledging for his reason the
danger of acquitting the guilty, or wounding the innocent
in such offices; and no doubt the gentleness of his nature,
as well as the hazard he foresaw in deciding concerning
state-crimes, had influence on that resolution.”2 The va¬
rious regulations which altered and improved the practice
of the court from the period of the Restoration to the
year 1669, are in a great measure imputed to his influ¬
ence. He was one of the commissioners appointed under
the great seal for regulating judicatures ; and the regula¬
tions which they recommended were embodied and con¬
firmed by acts of parliament passed in 1669 and 1672.
He opposed the distinction which was then projected be¬
tween lawyers who practised in the inner and those who
practised in the outer-house; and he equally opposed
the scheme of tendering to the advocates an oath that
they would not accept higher fees than were fixed by the
authority of the court. For his conduct in resisting these
unpalatable measures he received the thanks of the facul¬
ty: but in the midst of the arbitrary proceedings which
were so prevalent at that period, it was difficult to escape
the general odium ; and in 1674, during the great schism
which took place between the bench and the bar, on the
subject of appeals from the court of session to the parlia¬
ment, he felt the force of that envy which his merit and his
good fortune had frequently provoked. In his Apology
he has expressly declared that he had no personal concern
in the violent measure of banishing the advocates from
Edinburgh.
The project of a union between the two kingdoms had
been revived in the year 1670, and Sir James Dalrymple
was then appointed one of the Scotish commissioners. By
his wit and address upon this occasion, he strongly recom¬
mended himself to the good graces of Lauderdale.3 He
was soon afterwards nominated a member of the privy
council, which at that period was invested with very un¬
defined and arbitrary powers. The office of president of
the court of session having become vacant by the resigna¬
tion of Sir John Gilmour of Craigmillar, he was appointed
to succeed him on the 13th of January 1671 ; and his
place as an ordinary judge was supplied by his kinsman
Sir Thomas Wallace of Craigie. On the loth of Decem¬
ber 1676, the common council of Edinburgh, having taken
I into consideration the many great and signal services done
to the city by the lord president, resolved that his house-
rent should be paid from the funds of the corporation, and
that the same benefit should be extended to his successors
in office. This municipal act continued in force till the
year 1741, when the lord president Forbes declined to
avail himself of the privilege which it conferred.4
Dalrymple’s connexion with so corrupt an administra-
597
tion necessarily exposed him to suspicion and obloquy. Dalrjmple.
Having afterwards been charged with subserviency to the
duke of Lauderdale, a name devoted to infamy, he replied
that the accusation was “ general and calumnious, without
an instance given ; and he then proceeded to state that
his influence had always been applied to the most bene¬
ficial purposes. The duke, he remarks, “ came to Scot¬
land in the year 1677 ; and upon representations made by
me and others, he concurr’d in making several acts of
council, correctory of the abuses that then run; as parti¬
cularly, that persons were cited for church-disorders, with¬
out special circumstances of time or place, but generally
in one or other of the days of all the months for several
years; and were put to their oaths upon the whole libel,
whereby many had been holden as confest, and thereupon
fined, imprisoned, and transported like slaves to forraign
plantations: whereupon the then arch-bishop of St An¬
drews did represent to the bishops in England, and to the
court, that he was overturning the settlement of this na¬
tion; and he likewise said that in one moneth after he
came hither, he had put the king’s interest further back
than could be retrived in seven years. To make up
which, he was instigated to bring in the Highland host
upon the west of Scotland, who treated them as enemies,
not only by free quarter, but by all insolencies and op¬
pressions; and to obtain an order of council to enjoin a
bond to be taken by all in publick trust, and others in that
countrey, to delate, apprehend, and bring to judgment all
the presbyterian ministers that came ever in their power,
that had keeped any conventicles: against both which I
did with all freedom and faithfulness disswade him and
dissent; and I do not remember of any one person in
council or session that could never be induced to sub¬
scribe that bond, or to approve that road, but my self.
And when in the year 1679 several complaints were made
to K. Charles against Lauderdale and his brother, which
were published in print,5 and whereupon K. Charles gave
a publick audience, though I was there present, there was
not the least insinuation against me.”6 What he here
states in reference to that pillar of the apostolical church
Dr Sharp, is sufficiently characteristic. Any departure
from the most violent and oppressive measures, was to be
construed as hostile to church and state. In a private let¬
ter addressed to Lord Melville on the 1st of January 1690,
he thus expresses himself, in homely language, but with
no undignified sentiment: “ I ador God’s providence in
permitting so much dust against me, thogh the matter,
separat from the railing, imports nothing bot my em¬
bracing first and last the statione God hath called me to,
and the malitious ly of my being author, actor, or approver
of the cruelties in the former reigns, which your Lordship
and all unbyassed and enformed men know to be fals as
hell could make it; bot I thank God I have the peace of
my conscience, and I am confident your Lordship will
bear witnes for me to his Majestie.”
In the year 1679, the duke of York came to reside at
Holyroodhouse, and the judges and other members of the
College of Justice made him a visit of ceremony. The
lord president addressed him in a congratulatory speech,
1 These dates we copy from a letter which he addressed to the earl of Argyle, from Paris, on the 30th of April 1664. The origi¬
nal also belongs to Mr Thomson. Forbes has stated that he made an excursion to France with his eldest son, who was then begin¬
ning his continental travels; and having returned by way of London, that he had then the honour of waiting upon his majes¬
ty. But the king’s letter, restoring him to his office, was dated on the 21st of April, and he left London for Paris on the following day.
2 Forbes’s Journal of the Session, p. xxxiii. Edinb. 1714, fol.
3 Mackenzie’s Memoirs of the Affairs of Scotland, p. 214. Edinb. 1821, 4to.
4 Brunton & Haig’s Historical Account of the Senators of the College of Justice, p. 367. Edinb. 1832, 8vo.
5 He apparently alludes to a well-known publication, without date or place of printing, “ An Accompt of Scotlands Grievances by
reason of the D. of Lauderdales Ministrie, humbly tendred to his Sacred Majesty.” 4to. It is supposed to have been partly writ¬
ten by Janies Stuart, who was afterwards knighted, and became lord advocate.
* Apology for Sir James Dalrymple.
598
DALRYMPLE.
ana emargeu, wilu uuico. ■—? — —“ —‘
tion was begun by John Gordon, who only conducted it
to the eighty-fifth page, and the undertaking was com¬
pleted by William Johnstone, afterwards more conspicu-
ouslv known by the name of Sir William Pulteney. But
the "labours of these editors appear very insignificant,
when compared with those which are exhibited in ‘ the
1 Cunningham’s Hist, of Great Britain, vol. i. p. 50.
2 Wodrow’s Hist, of the Sufferings of the Church of Scotland, vol. h. p. 197- _
3 Lord Elchies, who died in the year 1754, wrote Annotations on Lord Stair's Institutions of the Law of scotiana.
, r.- -U i fnllmvinfMincourtlv sentimentTis town. This was considered as an adequate ground forDalrw,
Dalrymple. which contained the fo g J proceeding against him for “ harbour and reset of rebels;” wv,
matter of great joy to this na ion to see fXa'ge Sufficiently indefinite to leave ample room for ^
family among them, a te a . JnUrely pro- the operation of laws arbitrary in themselves, and admi-
pnved of that honour; and the nat\7 nisterI 2 3ed with little regard to substantial justice. Dal-
testant, it is the fittest P^e ^our Royai Highness could n^tered^^ found it expedienJt t0 quit the
have made yom recess to a * the duke with a kingdom. His tenants were harassed in the various modes
opportunities of endeavour! g P a to a(._ devised by the instruments of oppression, his rents were
conviction, that 11 was.n°t .°Jh have the 1east tendency arrested, and on applying to the king’s advocate, Sir
tempt any measure which mi*, ‘ parliament George Mackenzie, he found that he himself incurred the
to injure the protestant establishment ^ gr of bei T emitted to prison : he therefore sought
of 1681 in which Sira rn/ber r t^ a place of refuse in Holland,"where he arrived towards
smner, Sir James Dajrymp of the ]ords 0f the close of the year 1682. He chiefly resided at Ley-
county of WlS^’ anf n^der the consideration den, the seat of a very famous university,
the articles. When the carried a clause, that all While he was exposed to these persecutions, he pro¬
of the house, he proposed c ‘ .w tbev sin. pared for the press those works which have chiefly recom-
persons nS Sed hirn Pt0 the notice of posteritJ: His L, and
cerely professed the .F°tes g liament in 1567- greatest work was printed before he went into exile. “ The
the Confession of *alth aPP historian, he drew up Institutions of the Law of Scotland, deduced from its ori-
Accordingto the s^oment of on^ histonan^jie ginals, and collated with the Civil, Canon, and Feudal
such an oath as was ne th ^ ^ with0ut the Laws, and with the customs of neighbouring nations.”*
his own principles, no djssatisfied with a test which Edinb. 1681, fob This volume includes a “ Modus Liti-
guilt of perjury. He. . . , could aandi, or Form of Process observed before the Lords of
dernrev^ itsPbetg adopted, L seems*to have devised Council and Session." After a considerable interval, his
not prevent clause in order to nullify Institutions appeared in a “ second edition, much en-
the expedient ofthe duke of larged.” Edinb. 1693, fol. A much longer period elapsed
York declared that the president* had ruined all honest before the appearance of “the third edition, corrected
men* that is, all papists, by introducing that Confession, and enlarged, with notes. Edinb. 1759, fol. I Ins edi-
For subscribing this test with a particular explanation, the
earl of Argyle was subjected to a prosecution, which
formed one of the most flagrant acts of that disgraceful
era of our national history. Dalrymple himself declined
to subscribe it; and in the month of October he proceeded
to London, for the purpose of ^ ag fourth'edition, with commentaries and a supplement, by
fe ' "cessor • ^but^befor^his^Hval^a n“mmSon! George BrUi, Esq. Advocate.” Edinb. 1826-31, 2 vol,
his successor , but before ’ and superseding fol. It is a proof of the estimation in which the author
appointing Sjr George Gordon president and auperee^^ continues to be held, that another elaborate edition has
Newtoyth'^had'been tS^t'der’ thfgreat seal As he since been given to^he public, and .liustr,
Entl nnifted Scotland without obtaining leave from the tions by John S. More, Esq. Advocate. EclinD. 8 ,
commiss^mier^^ieking1 refused him an audience, and 2 vols. 4to. Of the Institutions of Lord Stair there are
Murrav the secretary of state, commanded him to leave no fewer than ten manuscript copies in the Advoca es
r inlr4 “ Tint nuarrel ” he remarks in his Apology, Library, and many others are to be found in pnvateco-
« ”fiti * v freedom to the then duke, at his first coming lections. It must apparently have been considered as a
to Scotland against attempting to weaken the protestant- useful exercise for apprentices m the law to ma 'e a com-
to Scotland, against attempt g f transcript of a book which was sufficiently accessible
m print During his exile, he published a work which,
X was cited before the criminal judges, before the council, although requiring less genius and learning
before the nar lament and hundreds of examinations and was at that time of great practical utility. “The Dm-
re.examina^fons’weretak'en against me, even of my most in- sions of the ^o^s of Counc, and Session, m the most in¬
timate domestick servants, and my sisters m law, not in the portant Cases debate tl . t
regular way of probation, but by way of inquisition to found Sederunt. Edinb. 1683-7, .! parts, tol. in s
process upon any special matter/which was never done, prehends a report of cases decided from the re-estahlisl.
because nXng w^s found against law. Can any judge in ment of the court to the mon h of August jMl. ^
Christendom show such a trial of integrity, who did so long His next publication was o a ve y „ ph io.
a time serve in such an eminent station? No man was bears the following ample and descnptive t - J •
found to witness the least malversation or baseness, by logia nova Experimentahs, in qua Senerales ^ , ®^tur
indirect interest in any cause, by taking any bribe or re- totehs, Epicuri, et Cart^11 suPPle;^ El speciiles^causie
ward bv partiality or insolency, though nothing would et emendantur, atque clarae, distinct®, et spe
have been^uore acceptable to tlfe court?than by <5,0 blow prtecipuorum experimentorum, P ““X"
against my fortune and fame, to have ruined me upon mal- naturalium apenuntur, ex evidentibus P 'c [ q gA
versation in my trust as a judge.” The only offence that antehac perspexit et prosecutus est. authore .
could be traced amounted to a suspicion that some pres- Carolo II. Britanmarum Regi a Gonsi na ul**um 1686^
byterians, who had been at the battle of Bothwell-lindge, Nuper Latmitate donata. Lugduni Ba ,
lived upon his estates, or lurked about his house in the 4to. The expression "“Per Latinitate donata^
country, when he was occupied with his public duties m seem to indicate that the book had first app
r't
Edinb. 1824, 4to.
DALRYMPLE.
599
.other language : we cannot discover that this was actually
' the case, but he may have employed some person to trans¬
late his manuscript into Latin.1 The learned author had
at an early period of his life been accustomed to read lec¬
tures in that language, and could himself have performed
such a task. This publication received a very favourable
notice from Bayle.2
In the mean time, Dalrymple and his family were not
exempted from persecution. On the charge of absenting
herself from church and frequenting conventicles, his lady
was cited before the privy council in the year 1683 ;3 and
their eldest son Sir John Dalrymple was harassed by many
vexatious proceedings. On the complaint of Graham of
Claverhouse, he was in the course of the same year com¬
pelled by the council to pay L.500 sterling, on the pre¬
text that, as heritable bailie of Glenluce, he had inter¬
fered with the jurisdiction of the sheriff, and exacted too
small fines from his own and his father's tenants for fre¬
quenting conventicles. Although he had taken no share
in the political measures of the time, he was in Septem¬
ber 1684 seized during the night in his own house at
Newliston, and, without any colour of law or justice, was
next day committed to prison like a common malefactor.
After having been detained for three months, he was
released on giving security to the amount of L.5000 ster¬
ling.4 By his talents and dexterity, he not only prevented
the escheat of his father’s estate, but speedily raised him¬
self to power and influence. The father having been im¬
plicated in the Ityehouse plot, was prosecuted for treason,
and sentence of outlawry was pronounced against him on
the 17th of March 1685 ;5 but his son, who was appointed
lord advocate towards the close of the ensuing year, had
sufficient interest and address to procure a pardon, not only
to him, but likewise “ to his mother, his brethren and sis¬
ters, and particularly for their reset and converse with
traitors, and to his little son, who had accidentally shot
his brother.”6
His own experience had rendered him too familiar with
the miseries inseparably connected with arbitrary govern¬
ment, and he was therefore sufficiently prepared to engage
in an attempt to rid the kingdom of an incorrigible ty¬
rant. When the prince of Orange was on the eve of
embarking for his memorable expedition, Dalrymple en¬
quired into the real object of his enterprise; and when
the prince declared that he designed the glory of God,
and the security of the protestant religion, the venerable
exile pulled off his wig, and pointing to his head, ex¬
claimed, “ Though I be now in the seventieth year of my
age, I am willing to venture that, my own, and my chil¬
dren's fortunes in such an undertaking.” It is stated by
Forbes, that “ the kindness and tender affection express’d
j by his Royal Highness upon that occasion to my Lord Stair,
exposed him to the envy of several persons ; which after¬
wards broke out in pamphlets stuff’d with personal reflec-Dalrymple.
tions, and other injurious writings against restoring him
to his rightful office of president of the session, and as¬
persing his administration thereof. This good old man,
with all imaginable cheerfulness, came over in that glo¬
rious expedition, to preserve our constitution, when reli¬
gion, liberty, and property, the dearest concerns of man¬
kind, seem’d to be at stake. The prince, upon his land¬
ing at Torbay, sent to inquire concerning my Lord Stair’s
health ; and perceiving that his horses were not come up,
ordered a Neapolitan horse belonging to himself to be
sent to the Lord Stair for his accommodation.” When
he arrived in Scotland, his influence was very usefully
exerted in providing that the election in boroughs should
be conducted by a general poll of freemen, and thus
securing a majority of Whigs and presbyterians in the
convention of estates.
Sir George Lockhart, president of the court of session,
fell by the hand of an assassin on the 31st of March 1689,
and on the 28th of October Sir James Dalrymple was re¬
instated in his former office. This appointment, so equit¬
able and judicious in itself, excited a considerable degree
of popular clamour, on the alleged ground, that when the
court was entirely dissolved by this change in the govern¬
ment of the kingdom, it was not competent for the crown
to restore it without the authority of parliament. The
lord president was very fiercely attacked in an anonymous
pamphlet ascribed to Robert Ferguson, a restless and un¬
scrupulous individual, who was known by the descriptive
appellation of the Plotter, and who was “ remarkable for
serving his party, and saving himself in all plots.”7 This
publication produced “ An Apology for Sir James Dal¬
rymple of Stair, President of the Session, by himself.”
Edinb. 1690, 4to.8 He appears to us to have defended
his character and conduct in a manner at once able and
satisfactory. In the course of the same year, on the 21st
of April, he was elevated to the peerage, by the title of
Viscount of Stair, Lord Glenluce and Stranraer, with limi¬
tations to the heirs male of his body. He had now ac¬
quired great influence in the management of affairs in
Scotland; and this influence derived no inconsiderable
support from his son, who was conspicuous for the ele¬
gance of his person, and the power of his eloquence. The
last publication of the distinguished author was worthy of
his declining years, and of his former reputation. It bears
the title of “ A Vindication of the Divine Perfections,
illustrating the Glory of God in them, by Reason and Re¬
velation : methodically digested into several Meditations.
By a Person of Honour.” Lond. 1695, 8vo. A preface,
written by Dr Bates and Mr Howe, two eminent indivi¬
duals among the English non-conformists, contains a very
high commendation of the author and his performance.
“ The clearness and vigor of his spirit,” they remark, “ are
1 A curious document, in the form of a ratification, under the privy seal, of a contract between Sir James Dalrymple and his
! printer, enumerates among other works a “ Treatise containing four Inquiries concerning Humane Knowledge, Natural Theologie,
Moralitie, and Phisiologie.” (Dallas’s System of Stiles, p. 152. Edinb. 1697, fob) The ratification is dated on the 11th of April
1G81. This Inquiry concerning Phisiologie was probably the first sketch of the work afterwards published in Latin. What related to
natural theology he perhaps incorporated in his Vindication of the Divine Perfections. In his Apology he mentions another work
which was never published, namely, a treatise on the rights of kings and subjects.
2 Nouvelles de la llepublique des Lettres, Decemb. 1685, p. 1836—Bayle gives the date of 1685. The Physiologia must have
been published at the end of that year, and dated on the following.
3 Fountaihhall’s Decisions of the Lords of Council and Session, vob i. p. 224. Edinb. 1759, 2 vols. fob
4 Fountainhall, vob i. p. 191. 201. 217- 220. 303. 386. 5 Eountainhall, vob i. p. 353. Wodrow, vob ii. p. 492.
6 Fountainhall, vob i. p. 44?. See likewise Wodrow, vob ii. p. 586.
7 Dalrymple’s Memoirs of Great Britain and Ireland, vob i. p. 20—The pamphlet bears the following title : “ The late Proceed¬
ings and Votes of the Parliament of Scotland, contained in an Address delivered to the King, signed by the Plurality of the Members
thereof, stated and vindicated.” Glasgow, 1689, 8vo. This title is not to be found in Ferguson’s list of “ all the pieces he ever
wrote before the present August 1712.” See Original Letters, fob Adv. Libr.
8 This pamphlet, which consists of four leaves, has a colophon, but no title-page. It has lately been reprinted for the Bannatyne
Club. Edinb. 1825, 4to.
Dalrymple.illustriously visible in managing a subject so deep and
difficult. And as in the blessed God there is a union ot
all glorious and amiable excellencies as are perfective of
our^minds, and attractive of our wills; so in our author s
unfolding them, there is joined with the strength of argu¬
ment, that beauty of perswasion as may enlighten and en¬
gage all understanding readers to be happy m the entire
choice of God for their everlasting portion. He mus
apparently have been indebted to some of his bnghsn
friends for purifying his style from provincial ldl0"1®’
which are sufficiently numerous in his other works. But
his long and eventful life had nearly reached its close : he
died on the 25th of November 1695, after having attained
the seventy-seventh year of his age, and his remains were
interred in St Giles’s church. <i i
He left behind him a numerous and prosperous family.
Lady Stair had died in the year 1692. John, his eldest
son, who became a judge, and secretary of state, was cre¬
ated earl of Stair: he was equally distinguished by his
talents, but possessed less consistency of charactei , an
his concern in the massacre of Glenco has affixed an inde¬
lible stain upon his memory.2 The second earl acted a
very conspicuous part in the wars and diplomacies of his
own age. Sir James Dalrymple, Bart, the second son of
the lord president, was one of the principal clerks of ses¬
sion; and, as an antiquary, he is favourably known by his
“ Collections concerning the Scottish History. Ldinb.
1705, 8vo. Sir Hugh Dalrymple, Bart, the third son,
succeeded his father as president of the court of session.
The fourth son was Thomas Dalrymple, M. D. physician
in ordinary to the king in Scotland. The youngest son,
Sir David Dalrymple, Bart, was, like many other mem¬
bers of the same family, bred to the legal profession, and
was successively solicitor general, lord advocate, and au¬
ditor of the Scotish exchequer. He was the grandfather
of the late Lord Hailes. The president had four daugh¬
ters, all of whom were married, two of them into the
noble families of Cathcart and Dumfries.
Lord Stair, like every other individual who has render¬
ed himself highly conspicuous in times of great public
excitement, is mentioned by different writers with a veiy
different measure of praise or censure. According to bi¬
shop Burnet, he was “ a man of great temper and of a very
mild deportment, but a false and cunning man, and a great
perverter of justice; in which he had a particular dexte¬
rity of giving some plausible colours to the gieatest in¬
justice.” This general and heavy charge of perverting
justice we have not found supported by any particular in¬
stances. The fountains of justice were at that unhappy
period very extensively polluted, but we are disposed to
class him among the most unexceptionable judges who
had then sat upon the Scotish bench. We must not how¬
ever conceal the fact, that, when he resumed his seat af-Dalr 4
ter the Revolution, his conduct as a judge was a frequent
and angry topic of discussion ;3 nor can we venture to de¬
termine how far this circumstance is to be imputed to the
force of political animosity. It was his misfortune to live
in most flagitious times, and by his public station to be
necessarily connected with a government which evinced
a total disregard of the first principles of justice and hu¬
manity. The arbitrary proceedings of Lauderdale he
seems to have resisted, with consummate prudence indeed,
but still with decent firmness; and of the integrity of his
character he exhibited repeated proofs, by preferring the
loss of office and emolument to a compliance with the
iniquity of the times. At a period when the nobility and
gentry of Scotland furnished so many and such flagrant
examples of cool and deliberate villany, Lord Stair acted
with a very unusual degree of moderation and consistency;
nor would it perhaps be easy to mention any person of rank
in the profligate reign of Charles II. whose character could
so well endure a severe scrutiny. He was a man of the
most gentle deportment,4 joined with a prudence which
seemed to be constitutional; and as extreme prudence not
unfrequently lingers on the verge of meanness or artifice,
it may in some cases be difficult to trace the line where vir¬
tue ends and vice begins. The force of his talents and
the respectability of his character rendered him an acqui¬
sition to any party in the state. He was importuned to
accept of a seat on the bench under the government to
which, as an advocate, he had declined to take the oath
of allegiance ; and when he was admitted, it only appears
that he took an oath to discharge his office with fidelity.
A similar line of conduct was pursued in another kingdom
by Sir Matthew Hale, whose name can never be mention¬
ed but with high respect. When Stair became a member
of the privy council, he was indeed associated with men
whose breath was contamination; but even in this diffi¬
cult situation he seems to have maintained his integrity,
and to have resisted to the utmost of his power the per¬
nicious and profligate measures which then disgraced the
nation. An individual of a more bold and decided cha¬
racter might have signalized his opposition by more pro¬
minent acts ; but, in the midst of such associates, it must
have proved less beneficial to the community, and more
ruinous to himself.5 In all the relations of private life,
his enemies have not denied him the praise of being mild
and amiable. He was zealously attached to the protest-
ant faith, and exhibited an edifying example of domestic
piety.6
His character as a lawyer is too well known to require
any illustration in a work of this nature. He was evident¬
ly a man of a great capacity, and of various learning; he
was not only skilled in ancient literature and in jurispru-
r-o ^ j 1 •• roo 2 See Laina’s History of Scotland, vol. iv. p. 238.
1 Wood’s Peerage of Scotland, vol. 11. p. 522. ^ »ee ^amg s *1
* Carstares’s State-Papers and Letters, p. 154. 167- 257- Edinb. 1774,^to. f Uent parts 0f an equal wit, and
- Sir George Mackenzie has g^en him the following character : g J this Jity of spirit a mere hypo-
P’ ^In Carstares’s State-Papers, p. 143 we find a characteristic instance of his smooth
oil he recommended the measure of calling out the militia during the year 1591 , and the mode in
the opposition of some of the members is here detailed by the earl of Crawfurd, one of thcir humbe . < dividing himself be-
tne opposition 0 , professor Forbes, “ what it was to be idle, and took a strict account of his Bme, divifli
tween the duties of religion, and the studies of his profession which he minded more than the ra;su.gof g ^ gat down t0 dinner,
temperate, and mighty regular. He duly prayed always and read a chapterofheEibeto hi* t 7 business, how importan
and performed the like divine service after supper ; which he would not int^™l t.f p0 ;1JeC°")p Jant bent 0f his thoughts to what
soever. He had a great spirit, and equal temper in the harshest passages of his life • by the constan at least not to
was serious or profitable, he knew how to divert them from any uneasy impression °”™’ . x 8
resent injuries done to him, when it was in his power to requite them. (Journal of the Session, p. xxx .)
I
dryn
D A L R Y M P L E.
601
dence, but likewise m philosophy, and even in theology, in his profession, made up for the want of more imposing Dalrymple
He was the first writer who reduced the law of Scotland attractions, and eminently fitted him for filling a iudicial   v-L/
to the form of a system, and confessedly the ablest writer situation. He was elevated to the bench, and took his
who ever made such an attempt.1 Sir Thomas Craig, seat as one of the senators of the colle"-e of justice on the
who preceded him by nearly a century, found it a rude 6th of March 1766 ; and ten years later, on the 3d of May
and undigested mass, and in arranging and methodizing 1776, he was also appointed a lord of justiciary, having on
one extensive and important branch, he exerted no mean the former occasion, according to the usage of the court
talents or learning. Lord Stair adopted a more general assumed the title of Lord Hailes, the name by which he
design, and, with great sagacity extracting order out of is generally known among the learned of Europe,
confusion, combined his loose and heterogeneous materials As a judge of the supreme civil and criminal courts, it is
into a compact and lucid form ; nor would it perhaps be here sufficient to observe, that he merited and obtained hieh
easy to mention an instance of another individual having confidence and approbation ; and he is particularly remem-
effected so signal an improvement in the jurisprudence of bered for the solemnity of his demeanour when it fell to
any modern nation. ^x.) him to pass sentence upon criminals. We shall therefore
Dalrymple, Sir David, a Scottish lawyer and judge, proceed to consider his literary character and pursuits, in
was born in Edinburgh on the 28th of October, new which, although not ambitious of mere literary fame, he
style, H26.2 His father was Sir James Dalrymple of had early in life attained considerable eminence. This led
Hailes, in the county of Haddington, Bart., auditor-gene- to an extensive and friendly intercourse with many persons
ral of the exchequer in Scotland, and his mother Lady of learning and genius in England, and in the number of
Christian Hamilton, a daughter of Ihomas, sixth earl of his correspondents were such men as Bishop Warburton,
Haddington. His grandfather Sir David Dalrymple, lord Lord Hardwicke, Dr Percy, afterwards bishop of Dro-
advocate from 1709 to 1720, was the youngest son of James, more, T. Warton, Dr Birch, Dr Kippis, Bishop Hurd, and
Horace Walpole.3 It may also be noticed, that the hono¬
rary distinction of doctor of laws was conferred on Sir
David Dalrymple by the university of Edinburgh on the
5th of December 1760.4 With what assiduity he must
first Viscount Stair, president of the Court of Session, and
author of the Institutions of the Law of Scotland ; and he
is said to have been the ablest of a family of whom several,
in their different capacities, civil, military, and judicial,
were so eminently distinguished for ability. Sir David have devoted his leisure hours to literary and antiquarian
Dalrymple received his classical education at Eton, where pursuits will appear from the list which is subjoined of
he was remarkable for his proficiency in classical learning his various publications.5 From this list it will be evident
and for exemplary conduct, and where he acquired a that the objects of his investigation may almost exclu-
marked predilection for English manners and customs,
which adhered to him through life. From thence he went
to Holland, and studied civil law at the university of
Utrecht, being intended for the Scottish bar. On his return
to his native country, after passing the ordinary trials, he
was admitted advocate on the 24th of February 1748.
Although possessing an ample fortune (his father having
died on the 24th of February 1751), and attached to the
pursuits of elegant literature, he was not seduced from
close application to the study of a dry profession. As a
barrister, however, his success was not equal to the expec¬
tations which had been formed of him ; and as he did not
attain any high distinction or very extensive practice in
his profession, he was still enabled to pursue his favourite
literary and antiquarian researches. This want of success
at the bar was, it is said, chiefly owing to the circum¬
stance of his being unfitted to shine as a public speaker,
by an ill-toned voice, an ungraceful elocution, and a dry¬
ness of manner too much in contrast with the eloquence
and fluency of some of his more popular brethren. The
character, however, which he had secured for sound know¬
ledge, acuteness, unwearied application, and strict probity
sively be referred to two distinct classes; the one con¬
nected with the history and literary antiquities of his own
country, and the other with the earlier state of the Chris¬
tian church ; and a few remarks may be made in reference
to the most important of his works in each of these classes.
His inquiries regarding Scottish history and antiquities
were at first more particularly directed to objects connect¬
ed with the ancient ecclesiastical and statute laws of the
country. In regard to the latter of these subjects, he never
carried his intentions into full effect, having left only
partial “ Specimens,” to evince what were his intentions.
His “ Canons of the Church of Scotland,” and “ Historical
Memoirs concerning the Provincial Councils of the Scot¬
tish Clergy,” are tracts of great importance. But so little
attention did they excite at the time, that of the first he
thought proper to state, “ for the benefit of those who may
be inclined to publish any tracts concerning the Antiqui¬
ties of Scotland, that twenty-five copies of the Canons tvere
sold. ’ In the disputed case of succession to the Suther¬
land peerage, Lord Hailes, as one of the guardians of
Lady Elizabeth, the infant daughter of the last earl (and
the present Duchess of Sutherland), in their name pre-
1 Of all the singular opinions maintained by Lord Karnes, there is perhaps none more singular than the following: “ Lord
Stair, our capital writer on law, was an eminent philosopher; but as he was not educated to the profession of law, his Institutes
chiefly consist of decisions of the court of session ; which with him are all of equal authority, though not always concordant.” (Elu¬
cidations of the Common and Statute Law of Scotland, pref. Edinb. 1777, 8vo.)
1 He was the eldest son of sixteen children. Alexander Dalrymple, the eminent hydrographer, who died in 1808, was his younger
brother.
s From aletter addressed to Mr John Pinkerton by Mr Malcolm Laing, the historian, July 9,1800, we learn that the greater part of
Ford Hailes’ correspondence was unfortunately destroyed. “ I am desired (he says) to ask you by Mr Thomson, an advocate, whe¬
ther you have any letters of the late Lord Hailes, that could contribute to furnish an account of his life and writings. From some
stupidity of his administrators, Lord Hailes’ letters, &c. were destroyed, I believe, at his death; and, unless in the hands of his cor¬
respondents, there are no materials for his life, which Mr Thomson has some thoughts of undertaking, together with a new edition of
his works. He left the first volume of his Annals corrected and enlarged for a new edition ; and if you can contribute any thing to
an account of his life, it will be received as a great obligation.” (Pinkerton’s Correspondence, vol. ii. p. 1770
4 No minutes of the proceedings of the Scmtus Academicus for that year are preserved, which prevents our being able to state at
whose recommendation this degree was conferred upon Sir David Dalrymple.
5 “ The erudition of Lord Hailes (says his friend the late Lord Woodhouselee), was not of a dry and scholastic nature. He felt
the beauties of the composition of the ancients; he entered with taste and discernment into the merits of the Latin poets, and that
peculiar vein of delicate and ingenious thought which characterises the Greek epigrammatists; and a few specimens which he has
us of his own composition in that style, evince the head of a master.
VOL. vn.
4 G
,.0.) DALRYMPLE.
t-t r* t i a.1 tjalitv 3,nd Ins scrupulous cittciclinicnt to trutlij excited theDalr
Dairymple. pared, in 1770 for JeT^OU!edj[t^nra1SCareVo7EeHZabeth, admiration of the great English moralist, to whom he had w
memorial entitled Ihe Additional Ease o , „ sent the sheets for revisal, and whose opinion of the work
claiming the title ant cligmty »f C»u"'rrme8 of wo if is wclthy of quotation. “ It is in out language, I ,hi„ky
In this volume, to which is affixed ^ after. says Dr Johnson, “ a new mode of history which tells all
her ladyships counsel (Alexander Weddt , tiiat is wanted, and, I suppose, all that is known, without
wards the Lord Chancellor, Earl o Losslyn, an laboured splendour of language or affected subtilty of con-
Fergusson), Lord Hailes has displayed the :ecture. The exactness of his [Lord Hailes’] dates raises
racy of research in regard to the family 1 y J WOnder. He seems to have the closeness of Henault
Scottish nobility, and the rules of descenl nth scoun ....
Scottish nobility, and the rules of descent jn n - wfthout his restraint.” This opinion he takes a pleasure in
try; while he managed the question at iss h repeating in a subsequent letter to Mr Boswell. “ Be so
nv..T.1w1<nnt. ns not onlv clearly to estamisn me p, e> , T Halloo
try; while he manageu me queam^ c.-  repeating ...    -  
dexterity of argument, as not only clearly to esta ) is i i d» he says, “ as ^return Lord Hailes my most respect-
right of his pupil, but also to form a P^ent ^t ^he ^ y , his . his accuracy stri J me
same time for the decision of all such q • H with wonder; his narrative is far superior to that of Re¬
cession in future. About the same time T1  ca T Wp formerly mentioned.” Again, he savs.
1 lllUS- Will always sen, n    -y —
pai t ui me   . . jnVpi-Pstinp- He is tainty of facts, and such a punctuality of citation. Inever
trative notes not less valuable than ;n T724 had before read Scotch history with certaintyr On the appear-
somewhat severe upon Allan Ramsay, who, ml/J .. , , ,   
house of Stuart, in the person of Robert III. in 1370. He
intended to have carried them on to the restoration of
James I. in 1424; but for “ various and invincible reasons,”
which are not stated, he left this portion to be resumed by
some future historian. We have seen it mentioned, that
when urged by Dr Carlyle to write the history of the house
of Stuart, by continuing the Annals to the period of the
union between Scotland and England, he declined such a
project, alleging “ he had not temper to write the annals
of such men.” At a later period of life he turned his
thoughts to the literary history of his country^ and pub¬
lished several sketches oflives as specimens ot'a Biogra-
such as accords with our ideas ot editing early 1 enijl.1?J^* to*”ts cardinal defect, namely, the dispassionate and dry
he felt no scruple in omitting or ^ of facts ; U this he hints with a delieac,'
or did not understand, in improving, a& e > • : n0 douBt from the high regard he entertained for
required improvement. Still we do "<»t »eejh, as mte of characJr. JLord Hailes’ Annals of
the first persons to call public attention Scotland” he says, in a subsequent letter to Mr Boswell,
the older and neglected Scottish poets, his atte^^ .Tra ^y exact they contain mere dry particulars.
emendation should be visited with more severe censure ^ ^ tiered« » dictionary. You know such
than the stmdar or sti 1 greater liberties ta e J y things are there, and may be looked at when you please,
in publishing bis Rebques ot E"f ‘^e'.TRe. Robertson paints; but the misfortune is, you are sure he
Three years later, in 1773, appealed Lo d not kn0w the people whom he paints; so you cannot
marks on'the History of Scotland, cons^tmg o nm pose a likeness. Characters should never be given by
chapters each of them treatmg of subjec s Cq a j^torian, unless he knew the people whom he describes,
the words of Lord Ehbank in his Lette J COpies from those who knew them.
“ to revive that spirit ot inquiry into the antiqu 1 Hailes’ Annals terminate with the accession of the
country, which, to our shame, was almost totally extin- — . -
guished ; and which, if it was possible to abolish, would at
once destroy the most powerful incitement to private vir¬
tue and public spirit.” The “ Remarks might be con¬
sidered as gleanings of the historical research which he
was making at that time, and discovered his lordship s
turn for minute and accurate inquiry ]4 into knotty points
of history. This publication, whilst it displayed the can¬
dour and liberality of his judgment, prepared the public
for the favourable reception of the “ Annals of Scotland,
the first volume of which appeared in 1776. I his is a
work so well known, and its value is so justly appieciate ,
that it would be unnecessary to enlarge upon its merits. aVoVkrhe thought, which, if executed “ on
The chronological plan adopted was somewhat nove P > deserve approbationand
English history,but was not calculated for a popular wo L mid P ;ould co.operate, ‘‘to assist in the
It was, however, quite suited to the author s pecuhai ,, The only perso^ we believe, who came
turn of mind ; his great object being that 0pC ea^o ^ c J forward on the occasion was the Earl of Buchan, but,
the fables, unsupported theories, a"^ Part.ial with all bis zeal and patriotism, his lordship s habit of mind
of former historians. Severa general histones o the cou striking contrast when compared with the ex-
try had recently been published, such as Maitland and
Grainger’s, and Guthrie’s, whilst public a~ ^ c^ knotfed^ in which he probably ex/elled all his con-
pjwhii
of Scotland, previous to that period, is involved in o s > 4 subject previously to the
and°otlier ^^ginal document J which had been preserved. ^^naed h'c my ffiere*
Although the “ Annals” presented no attractions ot style, Smyrna, published tne same yea , g
being devoid of all the graces and amenities of writing, fore have been ‘'-e more deeply .rap essed wnh^.^^
vet the author’s patient elaboration of minute tacts and of the mistakes and paitialities 0pn;.r.
dates, hUacuteness in detecting error, his strict in,par- and he certainly, m no subsequent wo.k, loses opi
DALRYMPLE.
603
i.tumty to expose his unfair statements in tracing the pro- point of Scottish history. This reprint has no date, andDalrymple.
|' gress and establishment of Christianity during the earlier is usually assigned to the year 1757; but it is mentioned
persecutions of the church. In all these publications in the list of new books, in the Scots Magazine for Decem-
Lord Hailes was evidently actuated by a fervent and en- ber 1755. There is another edition of the tract reprinted
lightened zeal; and, by the light which he throws upon about the same time, but without notes. Sir David Dal-
difficult passages of ancient writers, he vindicates such rymple afterwards communicated such papers as he had
sentiments and conduct as are conformable to the word collected, and explained his sentiments regarding the
of God, against the insinuations of the historian of the “Conspiracy” to Dr Robertson, which enabled him, m his
Roman empire in its decline, and directly supports the History of Scotland, “ to place that transaction in a light
cause of our most holy faith. His continued investiga- which dispels much of the darkness and confusion in which
tions of the subject at length, in 1786, led to the publi- it has been hitherto involved.”
cation, in a substantive form, of his most elaborate work, 6. f British Songs, sacred to Love and Virtue. Edin.
entitled “ An Inquiry into the secondary Causes which 1756, 12mo.
Mr Gibbon has assigned for the rapid Progress of Chris- 7. Select Discourses by John Smith, late fellow of
tianity.” This work has too much the character of a col- Queen’s College, Cambridge. Edin. 1756, 12mo.
lection of detached critical remarks; but, besides the ex- 8. j- A Sermon which might have been preached in
tent of learning which it displays in common with his East Lothian, on the 25th of October 1761. Edin. 1761,
minor publications, it is both solid and acute in argument, 12mo. Occasioned by the country people pillaging the
and most satisfactorily establishes “ that the things which wreck of two vessels cast away on the coast of East Lo-
Mr Gibbon considered as secondary or human causes, effi- thian, between Dunbar and North Berwick. This “ Ser-
caciously promoting the Christian religion, either tended to nion” is mentioned in the Scots Magazine, Nov. 1761,
retard its progress, or ivere the manifest operations of the p- 614, where the author is styled “ a gentleman distin-
wisdom andpoicer of God.” guished no less for humanity and religion, than for polite-
His lordship’s constitution had been long in an enfee- ness and learning.” His object in composing this dis-
bled state, and being predisposed to corpulence, his habits course was the restitution of the stolen goods. It was
of studious application, and the want of regular exercise, “ printed on his own charges, and caused be distributed
were unfavourable for the prolongation of life ; yet he at- in that country, not permitting a single copy to be sold ;”
tended his duty on the bench till within three days of his and we are told it produced the designed effect. It was
death, when he was attacked with symptoms of apoplexy reprinted, Edin. 1794, 8vo.
on his way from the Court of Session, and was carried off 9. Memorials and Letters relating to the History of
by a second attack on the 29th of November 1792, in the Britain in the reign of James the First, published from
sixty-sixth year of his age. Lord Hailes was twice mar- the originals. Glasgow, 1762, 12mo. There is an en¬
ded. By his first wife, Anne, daughter of the Honourable larged edition of this volume, Glasgow, 1766, 8vo.
George Brown, Lord Coalston, he left one daughter, who 10. The Works of the ever memorable Mr John Hales
still inherits the family estate. By his marriage with Helen, of Eaton, now first collected together. Glasgow, 1765,
daughter of the Honourable Sir James Fergusson, Baronet, 3 vols. 12mo. Lord Hailes, in this edition, modernised
Lord Kilkerran, who survived him, he had another daugh- the language, which Dr Johnson blamed, and blamed
ter, afterwards married to her cousin, the grandson of justly ; for, says he, “ An author’s language is a charac-
Lord Kilkerran. As Lord Hailes left no male issue, the teristical part of his composition, and is also characteristi-
title of baronet descended to his nephew John, eldest son cal of the age in which he writes. Besides, sir, when the
of his brother John Dalrymple, formerly Lord Provost of language is changed, we are not sure that the sense is
Edinburgh. the same.”
A list of the several works of Lord Hailes, as nearly as 11. A specimen of a book intituled Ane compendious
possible in the order of publication, is here subjoined. Booke of Godly and Spiritual Sangs, &c. Edinburgh,
Many of them are anonymous, and those marked f were printed by Andrew Hart [1621]. Edin. 1765, 8vo.
printed merely for private distribution. 12. Memorials and Letters relating to the History of
1. Sacred Poems, or a collection of translations and Britain in the Reign of Charles 1. published from the ori-
parapbrases from the Holy Scriptures. Edin. 1751, 12mo. ginals. Glasgow, 1766, 8vo.
2. f Proposals for carrying on a certain Public Work 13. An Account of the Preservation of Charles II. after
in the City of Edinburgh, 8vo. No date. [1752.] This the Battle of Worcester; drawn up by himself: to which
jeu-d'esprit, dedicated to “ the Patron and Pattern of all are added, his Letters to several Persons. Glasgow,
Castle-builders,” was a parody on the “ Proposals for car- 1766, 8vo. Some copies of the volume have a reprinted
1 tying certain Public Works,” &c. written by Sir Gilbert title-page, dated Edinburgh, 1801.
Elliot of Minto, and circulated under the patronage of the 14. The Secret Correspondence between Sir Robert
Convention of the Royal Burghs in August 1752, which Cecil and James VI. Edin. 1766, 12mo.
contained the first proposals for extending and improving 15. A Catalogue of the Lords of Session from the In-
the city of Edinburgh, which was still confined within its stitution of the College of Justice in the Year 1532,. with
ancient and narrow limits. Historical Notes. Eclin. 1767, 4to. Reprinted with ad-
3. The Wisdom of Solomon, Wisdom of Jesus the son ditional notes by an anonymous editor. Edin. 1794, 4to.
of Sirach, or Ecclesiasticus. Edin. 1755, 18vo. More recently it has served as the basis of a work entitled
4. Three papers in The World; No. 140, Sept. 4, 1755; “ An Historical Account of the Senators of the College of
No. 147, Oct. 23, 1755; No. 204, Nov. 25, 1756. Justice, by George Brunton and David Haig.” Edin.
5. A Discourse of the unnatural and vile Conspiracye 1832, 8vo. The 1794 edition of the Catalogue of the
attempted by John Earl of Gowrye, and his brother, Lords of Session is occasionally to be met with in a volume,
against his Majestie’s Person, at Saint Johnstoun, upon along with Nos. 18, 19, 20, and 21 of this list, having a
the 5th of August 1600. No date [1755], 12mo. This separate title-page: “ Tracts relating to the History and
tract is the narrative published in 1600 as King James’s Antiquities of Scotland.” Edin. 1800.
account of the Earl of Gowrye’s Conspiracy, reprinted 16. -j- A Specimen of Notes on the Statute Law of Scot-
w*th explanatory notes, intended to serve as a specimen land. Lord Hailes, in the Scots Magazine, May 1768,
of historical collections illustrative of that still mysterious announced that “ for some time past he had been engaged
604
DALRYMPLE.
Dalrymple. in drawing up Notes on the Statute Law of Scotland,
from the First Parliament of James I. to the Accession o
Tames VI.” requesting “ the aid of the learned, and ot the
lovers of antiquity,” and inserted a specimen of the notes.
This request being complied with by only one gentlema ,
he reprinted the “ Specimen of Notes” in an enlarged
form, without date, but probably in 1768, 8vo, PP- 37’ an
circulated copies, addressed to such persons as were kely
to afford the information and assistance ^luoh he wishe^.
17. + A Specimen of similar Notes on the Statu
of Scotland during the Reign of Mary Queen of Scots^
No date, 8vo, pp. 69, probably not printed till some time
after No. 16. Lord Hailes appears to have contemplated
some publication of the kind, even at a ^te Penod of h
life. In a letter to Pinkerton, dated Sept. 28, 1'R after
observing that he had no view of beginning where he had
left off in the History of Scotland, he says, ‘ Any thing
that I have [collected] as to the five James s and Queen
Mary will come in properly among my notes on their acts
of parliament; a wort which has been long under my hands,
ond which I am unwilling to lose sight of- . A
18 The Private Correspondence of Dr Francis Atter-
bn!8' Bishop of Rochester and his Friends, in 1725, never
before published. [Edin.] 1768, 4to. f ,
19. An Examination of some of the Arguments for the
high Antiquity of Regiam Majestatem ; and an /nquiry
into the Authenticity of the Leges Malcohm. Edin. 1769,
4t20. Canons of the Church of Scotland, drawn up in the
Provincial Councils held at Perth A. n. 1242 and A. D.
1269. Edin. 1769, 4to. , „ . . , r
21. Flistorical Memoirs concerning the Provincial Coun¬
cils of the Scottish Clergy, from the earliest accounts to
the era of the Reformation. Edin. 1769, 4to.
22 Ancient Scottish Poems, published fiom the MS.
of George Bannatyne, 1568. Edin-1770, 12mo.
23. -[ Specimen of a “ Glossary’ of the Scottish Lan-
SU24?'Tlm°Additional Case of Elizabeth, claiming the
title and dignity of Countess of Sutherland. y ier
Guardians. ^No date [Nov. 1770], 4to.
25. Remarks on the History of Scotland. Edin. 1773,
12mo. The same year there appeared a “Letter to Emd
Hailes on his Remarks on the History of Scotland, Edin.
1773, 12mo. In reply to this tract, which was written by
Patrick Lord Elibank, the author communicated in MS. to
his lordship, some observations, which were first printed in
the third edition of his Annals, vol. hk p. 155, Edin. 18 ,
26. Huberti Langueti Epistolae ad Phihppum Sydneium
Equitem Anglum. Edin. 1776, 8vo.
27. Annals of Scotland, from the Accession of Malcolm
HI. sirnamed Canmore, to the Accession of Robert 1.
Edin. 1776, 4to. This volume, along with an appendix
containing eight dissertations, has tables shewing the suc¬
cession of the kings of Scotland during the period em¬
braced in the Annals.
28 Account of the Martyrs of Smyrna and Lyons in
the Second Century. Edin. 1776, 12mo. This forms the
first volume of the Remains of Christian Antiquity.
29. L. C. F. Lactantii Divinarum Institutionum liber
quintus, sive de Justitia. Edin. 1717, 12mo.
30. Remains of Christian Antiquity [Vol. II.], contain¬
ing the Trials of Justin Martyr, Cyprian, &c. Edin. 1 /78,
12mo.
31. Eight Papers in the “ Mirror,” communicated be¬
tween April 1779 and April 1780, being Nos. 21, 46, 56,
62, 75, 86, 97, and 98.
33. Annals of Scotland [Vol. II.], from the AccessionBalrv
of Robert I. surnamed Bruce, to the Accession of the v
House of Stuart. Edin. 1779, 4to. The appendix to this
volume has nine dissertations. An edition ot the Annals,
with tracts relating to the history and antiquities of Scot¬
land, was printed Edin. 1797, 3 vols. 8vo. A still more
complete edition, comprising Lord Hailes’ historical and
biographical tracts, was published Edin. 1819, 3 vols. 8vo.
It includes Nos. 5, 19, 20, 21, 25, and 40 to 44, of the
present list.
34. Remains of Christian Antiquity [Vol. III.], con¬
taining the History of the Martyrs of Palestine in the
third century, translated from Eusebius. Edin. 1780,
12mo.
35. Octavius, a Dialogue by Marcus Minucms Felix.
Edin. 1781, 12mo.
36. Of the Manner in which the Persecutors died, a
treatise by L. C. F. Lactantius. Edin. 1/82, 12mo.
37. Disquisitions concerning the Antiquities of the Chris¬
tian Church. Glasgow, 1783, 12mo.
38. Miscellaneous Remarks on The Enquiry into the
Evidence against Mary Queen of Scots. Lond. 1784, 8vo.
This “ Enquiry” is Mr W. Tytler of Woodhouselee's well-
known Vindication of Queen Mary. Lord Hailes’ tract is
anonymous, and was sent to Dr Kippis at London for pub¬
lication, as the author was evidently not anxious to have
it ascribed to him.
39. An Inquiry into the Secondary Causes which Mr
Gibbon has assigned for the rapid growth of Christianity.
Edin. 1786, 4to. -A translation of this work into Dutch
was published at Utrecht, 1793, 8vo. The original work
was reprinted at Edinburgh, 1808, 12mo, and again in
1810, accompanied with a “ Brief Memoir of the Life and
Writings of the Author; by the late Dr Charles Stuart
of Dunearn, but whose name is not prefixed to either of
these editions. ,
40. Sketch of the Life of John Barclay, author of Ar-
genis. No date [1786], 4to.
41. Sketch of the Life of John Hamilton, a secular
priest. No date [1787], 4to.
42. Sketch of the Life of Sir James Ramsay, a general
officer in the armies of Gustavus Adolphus, King of Swe¬
den. No date [1787], 4to.
43. Life of George Lesley [of Monymusk, a Capuchin
friar.] No date [1787], 4to. ,
44. Sketch of the Life of Mark Alexander Boyd, ho
date [1787], 4to. . . , ...
45. + Davidis Humei, Scoti, summi apud suos philosc-
phi, de vita sua acta, liber singulars; nunc pnmum La-
tine redditus. [Edin.] 1787, 4to. _•
46. + Adami Smithi, LL.D. ad Guhelmum Strahanum
armigerum, de rebus novissimis Davidis Humei, Lpistola,
nunc primum Latine reddita. [Edin.] 1788 410 Ih.s
is a translation into Latin verse ot Dr Adam Smith s i
ter to Strachan, giving an account of the behaviour ot
David Hume during his last illness, which letter is also
reprinted in this tract. c , T ,
47. The Opinions of Sarah Duchess Dowager of Marl¬
borough, published from her original MSS. Edin. 1/8 ,
12480.' The Address of Q. Sept. Tertullian to ScapulaTer-
tullus, proconsul of Africa, translated. Edin. D90, 12mo.
49. Miscellaneous Communications to Magazines. -
beinti anonymous, cannot be well ascertained ; bu
"re papers'by Lord Hailes in the Soots Ma?z,ne,fc
Edinburgh Magazine and Review, the Edmtag
zine and Literary Miscellany the Gentlemans M g ^
le.
-32.%8ermao7/sao? Z eminent divine, Jacobus a Vora- = "other period^, wcn^ ^
gj”e. Archbishop of Genoa, translated iron, the ongmals. Magazine^volMx. ^ ^ six v0,uraes; also,
iLidin. 1 / / i4ino*
i
DAL
in vol. Ixi. two letters on the famous miniature, said to be
of Milton, in the possession of Sir Joshua Reynolds. The
Edinburgh Magazine and Review for February 1774 con¬
tains some remarks on the Latin Poems of Dr Pitcairne,
by Lord Hailes. {Life of Kames, vol. i. p. 6, note.) He
was also a contributor to Kippis’s edition of the Biogra-
pbia Britannica.
In addition to these, Lord Hailes printed several minor
tracts without titles, some of them being specimen sheets
of his published works. “ The Little Freeholder,” a dra¬
matic entertainment, London, 1790, 12mo, has been usually
attributed to him, but, we have heard it asserted, on in¬
sufficient grounds.
Some of his letters have been printed in Pinkerton’s
Literary Correspondence, in Nichols’ Illustrations, and in
other works.
After this copious list of the publications by Lord Hailes,
it is unnecessary to add any thing to what has been al¬
ready stated in regard to his literary character, which
united acuteness of mind and soundness of judgment with
extensive learning and assiduous research. Every true
lover of his country must rejoice that such a man should
have devoted himself so zealously to literary pursuits, while
they must revere his memory for his successful attempts
to subject to the ordeal of rational criticism so many dis¬
puted points of historical research, and more particularly
for having illustrated three centuries of our national his¬
tory with a degree of accuracy and information which it
is much easier to admire than to emulate. But as in his
writings his attention was uniformly directed to promote
the interests of religion and virtue, so in his conduct he
was actuated by the purest principles of benevolence and
fervent piety; and in the private relations of life he was
all that was praiseworthy and honourable. “ In a word,”
says the late Lord Woodhouselee, “ he was an honour to
the station which he filled, and to the age in which he
lived.” “ That such a man,” to use the words of an intel¬
ligent writer, “ should not yet have found a,biographer
worthy of his merits, cannot be ascribed either to the ob¬
scurity of his character and station, or to the incapacity of
his contemporaries. But Lord Hailes was a man of piety
of the old stamp, and a strenuous advocate for revealed
religion, and therefore did not share, as he would not have
been ambitious to share, the celebrity that has been con¬
ferred on some of his countrymen of a very opposite cha¬
racter.” 1
DALMOW, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Oude, situated on the north-east side of the Ganges, for¬
ty-seven miles from Lucknow. Some handsome pagodas
are on the banks of the river, and also a fort of some ex¬
tent. Long. 81. 3. E. Lat. 26. 3. N.
DAL I ON, a town of the hundred of Lonsdale, in the
county of Lancaster, 266 miles from London. It is situat¬
ed on a limestone rock on the sea shore. There is a mar¬
ket here on Saturdays. The inhabitants amounted in 1821
to 2446, and in 1831 to 2697.
Dalton, John, D. D. an eminent divine and poet, was
the son of the Reverend John Dalton, rector of Dean, near
Whitehaven in Cumberland, where he was born in 1709.
He was educated at Queen’s College, Oxford, and became
tutor or governor to Lord Beauchamp, only son of the
Earl of Hertford, afterwards Duke of Somerset, during
which time he adapted Milton’s admirable Mask of Comus
to the stage, by a judicious insertion of several songs and
different passages selected from other works of Milton,
DAM- 605
as well as of several songs and other elegant additions of Dam
his own, suited to the characters and to the manner of II
the original author. During the run of this piece heDamascus*
industriously sought out a grand-daughter of Milton’s,
who was then oppressed with age and poverty, and pro¬
cured her a benefit, the profits of which amounted to a
very considerable sum. He was promoted by the king to
a prebend of Worcester, where he died on the 22d of July
1/63. Besides the above, he wrote a descriptive poem,
addressed to two ladies at their return from viewing the
coal mines near Whitehaven, and Remarks on twelve his¬
torical designs of Raffaelle, and the Museum Grcecum et
JEgyptiacum.
DAM, a boundary or confinement, as to dam up or dam
out. Hence infra damnum suum means within the bounds
or limits of his own property or jurisdiction.
DAMAR, an extensive open town of Arabia, in the
country of Yemen, and the capital of a district. It has a
large castle, and also a university, which, according to Nie¬
buhr, contained five hundred persons, who were taught to
read the Koran. It contains five thousand houses. It is
fifty-six miles north from Sana, and ninety-four north-east
from Mocha. Long. 44. 12. E. Lat. 14. 32. N.
DAMASCENUS, John, an illustrious father of the
church in the eighth century, born at Damascus, where
his father, though a Christian, enjoyed the office of coun¬
sellor of state to the Saracen caliph, to which the son suc¬
ceeded. He retired afterwards to the monastery of St
Sabas, and spent the remainder of his life in writing books
of divinity. His works have often been printed; but the
Paris edition of 1712, in two volumes folio, is esteemed the
best.
DAMASCIUS, a celebrated heathen philosopher, born
at Damascus in the year 540, when the Goths reigned in
Italy. He wrote the life of his master Isidorus, and de¬
dicated it to Theodora, a learned and philosophical lady,
who had also been a pupil to Isidorus. In this life, which
was copiously written, he frequently made oblique attacks
on the Christian religion. We have nothing remaining
of it, however, except some extracts preserved by Photius.
Damascius succeeded Theon in the rhetorical school, and
Isidorus in that of philosophy, at Athens.
DAMASCUS, a large, opulent, and handsome city of
Syria, which stands on the western edge of a fine plain,
and on a level site, having a chain of hills passing close to
it on the north-west, and the plain extending away be¬
yond the range of vision to the east, adorned everywhere
with extensive gardens, and forming a circuit of between
twenty-five and thirty miles. It was formerly surrounded
by walls defended by towers, which have now fallen into
a ruinous state; and the buildings also have so increased
that the number of houses without the walls is double that
of those within. The streets are in general narrow com¬
pared with those in European cities; but the narrowest
streets of Damascus are wider than most of the streets of
Cairo, and conveniently admit two foot passengers to move
with safety on each side of a loaded camel; the greater
number of the streets would allow two loaded camels to
pass without incommoding those on foot, and many streets
are so wide as to allow six or eight camels or horses to
pass abreast. They are all well paved, and have elevated
foot-paths on each side. All the houses in the suburbs are
surmounted with cupolas; and these, viewed from a dis¬
tance, present an appearance of an encampment of conical
tents ten or twelve feet high. The houses in this quarter
Chalmers’ Biographical Dictionary, art. Dalrymple, vol. xi. p. 229. See also Life of Lord Hailes, in the Edinburgh Magazine
ana Literary Miscellany, March 1793; the brief memoir by Dr Charles Stuart, prefixed to the second and third editions of the
l»eH-v to Gibbon; and the “ Sermon on the Death of Lord Hailes,” preached at Inveresk, by Alexander Carlyle, D. D. Edin.
606
DAMASCUS.
Damascus, of the town are built of bricks baked in the sun, which,
were they not protected by the cupolas, would be wasted
away by the rains. The buildings in the interior ot the
town are constructed chiefly of stone below and light yel¬
low bricks above; they are about two stories high, with
flat roofs, whilst the principal edifices are painted in the
gayest colours, and the aspect is light and airy m the ex¬
treme. The town, however, in the interior has a dull and
monotonous appearance; the houses, from the size o t le
doors, and the small number of windows, presenting a
great proportion of dead surface. Damascus is one ot tie
most splendid cities in the East, and contains about 500
houses, which are entitled to the name of palaces : all their
splendour is, however, confined to the interior, which con¬
tains a number of spacious and splendid apartments, courts,
terraces, and galleries, adorned with marble pavements of
various colours, ingeniously and fancifulij; arranged, mosaic
work of the same materials, friezes painted and gilded,
and the ceilings so many broad canopies of gold and bril¬
liant colours, with rich additions of sculpture and ename ,
and the furniture consisting of sofas richly embroidered,
Persian carpets, mirrors, and other valuable articles, worth
frequently from L. 5000 to L.25,000. Into many of the
apartments beautiful fountains are introduced. No city
contains so many canals and fountains; each house has
one; and this abundant supply of water is derived from
three rivulets or branches of the river called Barrady,
which, after fertilizing the gardens for a course of about
three leagues, are lost in a hollow of the desert to the south¬
east, where they form a morass, called Behairat-el-Merdi,
or the Lake of the Meadow. The mosques and chapels
throughout the city are exceedingly numerous, the former
being not less than one hundred, large and small. Of these,
the Great Mosque, so called on account of its extent, is the
most remarkable. The architecture is of the Corinthian
order throughout every part of the edifice. Its form is
an oblong square, composed of three aisles running parallel
to each other, and divided by rows of fine Corinthian co¬
lumns. It has two minarets at each end, and is crowned by
a large stone cupola, supported by four enormous pillars.
The interior produces a most imposing effect from its di¬
mensions, and the square court in front is also magnificent
from its extent. It has on three of its sides a portico or
colonnade of Syrian granite pillars, mostly of a fine grain
and reddish colour, and on the outside is a superb foun¬
tain, which throws the water twenty feet high. Another
with a grove of trees on each side stands in a spacious
court within. The galleries are supported by numerous
columns, and on the walls are still seen the remains ot
mosaic work with which they were once adorned. An hos¬
pital for the indigent sick is attached to this edifice. This
mosque is said to have been originally built by the Empe¬
ror Heraclius, and to have been dedicated to Zachariah
by others it has been considered to have been the work of
the bishops of this see, and by them dedicated to St John
of Damascus; whilst the Turks call it the Mosque of St
John the Baptist, and think it was built by the Khalif
Valid in the 86th year of the Hegira (a. d. 692). The
mosque of the dervishes, where these fanatics dance until
they are excited to a temporary fit of madness, is a large,
regular, and handsome edifice, and has two ot the loftiest
and finest minarets to be seen in Damascus. Besides the
principal dome, which is very large, a line of smaller ones
is carried round three sides of the open court in front of
the building, after the same manner as those in the great
mosque of Mecca, of which it appears to be a close imita¬
tion. In the court adjoining this mosque is an hospital or
charitable institution, constructed by the Sultan Selim, for
the manufacture of silk. Ihere are other mosques, distin¬
guished for their beautiful and ancient architecture. One
is adorned with all kinds of fine marble like mosaic pave-Damasq F
ment, and another is remarkable for its minaret, which is Cy' v
entirely cased with pantiles. Besides the mosques of the
Mahommedans, the Jews have six synagogues, the Catholic
Christians one convent, with a church included in it, the
Greeks one place of worship larger and richer than the
Catholics, the Armenians a convent and a church, and the
Syrians and Maronites one each. To all these places of
worship there can hardly be less than 1000 persons at¬
tached, including the ulemah of the Mahommedans, the
rabbin of the Jews, and the priests of the Christian sects,
whose sole business it is to promote their several religions,
and increase the number of their pioselytes. I he patri¬
arch of Antioch has his see at Damascus, where he resides.
The castle is situated towards the south-west part of the
city, and is about three quarters of a mile in circuit. It is
a large and fine edifice, with three square towers in front
and five on each side, and is surrounded with a broad and
deep ditch of rustic masonry. Within it resembles a small
town. It is supposed to have been built in the middle
ages, either by the Greeks or the first Mahommedan con¬
querors of Syria. It appears to be a work of great anti¬
quity, and to have undergone many additions, alterations,
and repairs at different periods. In the oldest paits of it,
near the foundation, the stones are of an extraordinary
size, and the rustic masonry is the only feature of Roman
architecture which it possesses. It is mentioned byBuck-
inMiam, one of the latest European travellers who visited
Damascus, and to whom we are chiefly indebted for this ac¬
count, that the castle presents, in the interior, a confused
heap, in which are mingled together strong works of defence,
ruined palaces retaining marks of ancient splendour, and
rich ornaments ot the most florid arabesque, with remains of
fountains, aqueducts, and gardens attached, besides dark
passages, gloomy dungeons, secret stairs, and a labyrinth
of other objects which could not be penetrated without a
(xuide acquainted with the localities. Some of the finest
buildings in Damascus are the khans or caravanserais ap¬
propriated to the reception of goods brought in caravans
from various quarters by wholesale merchants. Mr Buck¬
ingham mentions one ot these as superior to every otier,
its5architecture being in the finest style of the Saracen or¬
der. It consists of a spacious court, with a superb gateway
in the form of a pointed arch, vaulted and highly ornament¬
ed with sculpture. The court was finely paved, and in the
centre a large fountain sent forth cooling and agreeable
streams, the whole being crowned with a cluster of lofty
domes. The masonry is in the ancient Saracenic and iuik-
ish taste, with alternate layers of black and white stone,
and the ornaments are profusely rich. The coffee-houses
in Damascus are exceedingly spacious ; they have benches
on each side of the street, extending fifty yards in length,
and rooms of the same space, in which passengers smoke
and drink coffee. There are many houses also at which
sherbet and other sweet drinks are prepared, cooled with
the ice and snow brought down to the city from a snowy
mountain to the south-west of the town. Skins of icea
water, sweetened and perfumed, are retailed through the
streets at a para for each draught.
Damascus is a magnificent city, whether we consider its
spacious streets and splendid public buildings, or ie
ty of the environs, exhibiting finely-cultivated fie ds inter¬
mingled with gardens. The suburb of Salheyah, whic
lies at the foot of the mountains that bound the fy
the west and north-west, is a great resort on the la
day of every week, whither all the inhabitants of Dams
cus of every age and condition repair in their io y
to enjoy the free air and pleasures of the country-
are to be seen parties by the way-side, some s g>
others engaged in loud and merry conversation, and otne
imas i*
-r*'
DAMASCUS.
607
amusing themselves and their children; the women en- na; and various other articles of an inferior kind from Damascus,
veloped m snow-white muslin robes, with veils of a dark Germany and France. There are few manufactures in
gauze, their usual dress ; the men of the city mounted on Damascus ; and these consist chiefly in silk stuffs, plain,
horses richly caparisoned, or on fine mules and asses; others coloured, and embroidered with gold ; fabrics of plain cot-
sauntering on foot, or reposing on the banks that skirt the ton, and cotton and silk mixed, all for home consumption,
road, either smoking, playing at chess, or touching the and mostly of broad striped or wavy patterns for the caf-
Arnaout guitar to their songs, Mr Buckingham celebrates tans of the Turkish dress.
the beauty of Damascus above that of all the cities of the Commerce, as in all other places in the East, is carried
East. “ The gardens,” he observes, “ that surround the city on by means of caravans, of which the principal is that
on the north, the fine olive grounds and long avenues of which goes with the annual pilgrimage to Mecca. It is
trees to the south, the numerous villages pressing the conducted by the pasha, who receives the standard of the
skirts of the town on the east, and the great suburb of prophet from the governor of the castle, and gives a so-
Salheyah, with the thronged public way that leads to it lemn pledge for its restoration. This expedhion unites
on the west, added to the sombre but rich and thickly commercial with religious objects. Three caravans, each
planted cypresses, the slender poplars, the corn grounds, accompanied by about 2500 armed men, go thrice a year
and the rivers and streams which so abundantly water the to Bagdad, the journey occupying thirty days ; those to
whole, give to this charming spot a character becoming Aleppo travel twice or thrice a month. Besides these,
fairy land, and render it a fit object for the descriptive many other caravans go to different ports of Syria, Damas-
powers of an Arabian tale. . cus being a great rendezvous and emporium of trade.
This city is the seat of an extensive trade both with Provisions and fruit of all kinds are abundant; also ice
India and with Europe. The productions of India, consist- and snow, which may always be obtained from the neigh¬
ing chiefly of spices, cotton manufactures, coarse and fine bouring mountains. The place is healthy, though some¬
times attacked by the plague; and it is also subject to a
malignant tertian fever, which is frequently fatal. The
government of the city is committed to a pasha, who has
a palace here. He rules with despotic power, and fre¬
quently resorts to exactions in order to increase his reve¬
nue. Damascus is a place of great antiquity. It is one
muslins, and gold stuffs, are in great demand, and bring
high prices. They are brought from India by the Persian
Gulf, Bussora, Bagdad, and Aleppo, and are consequently
burdened with the heavy expenses of a circuitous land
carriage. If they could be supplied by way of the Bed
Sea and Egypt, they might be sold at a cheaper rate, and
the commerce would be more extended. The insecurity of the very earliest cities of which the Scriptures make
of property in these eastern countries, and the heavy mention, being coeval with Babel, Nineveh, Sodom, Go-
transit duties levied on all goods in the ports of Egypt morrah, Ur of the Chaldees, &c. which existed very soon
and the Red Sea, have hitherto prevented commerce from after the flood. It is also named as the birth-place of
following this route. But the growing ascendency of Eliezer, the steward of Abraham’s house ; and no mention
Mehemmed Ali, who has imbibed European maxims of is made of any subsequent destruction of this city. It is
policy, and the success of his arms in the East, will pro- likely therefore to contain monuments of high antiquity,
bably open to the eastern trade a freer ingress into these Such fragments of the wall as yet remain appear accord-
countries. The manufactures of England, which have ingly to be very ancient, presenting at the lowest base a
found their way into the bazars of Damascus, are much masonry apparently more ancient than either the Roman or
sought after, and held in very high esteem, particularly Saracen. The blocks of stone are frequently of a square
light woollen cloths of gay colours, printed cottons and form, which is unusual except in the most ancient struc-
chintzes, and silk and cotton shawls made in imitation of tures; and sometimes the height exceeds the length, which
those of Cashmere ; also needles, pins, knives, scissors, and is still more rarely seen. During the earlier periods of
history, Damascus was the capital of a kingdom, sometimes
independent, sometimes subject to the Jews. It was con¬
quered by the Romans, and afterwards fell into the hands
of the Arabians. It underwent various revolutions during
the disorders of the middle ages ; and was finally conquer¬
ed, along with all Syria, by the Emperor Selim, and has
since been subject to the Turkish power. The pasha at
the head of a numerous army having been defeated by
the French cavalry in 1799, it was the intention of Bona¬
parte to have marched to this city; but his course was
arrested by the unsuccessful siege of Acre. In 1811 it
was menaced by the Wahabees, who afterwards retired.
In 1832 it was entered by Mehemmed Ali’s troops from
Egypt under Ibrahim Pasha, who had captured Acre
fine hardware, as well as China and earthenware, whether
English or Indian. These goods being generally import¬
ed through a roundabout route, namely, through Saida,
Bairaut, and Tripoli, are sold at very high prices. Iron,
lead, tin, cochineal, sugar, and such other European ar¬
ticles as are required in the city, are also imported through
the same channel. Wearing apparel for fashionable per¬
sons of both sexes at Damascus, and clothes that have
been worn, are brought from Constantinople; and being
distributed all over the country, are frequently the means
of spreading the contagion of the plague. Amongst
the various manufactures to be found in the bazars are
superb canarisons for horses, of which the Turks, as well
as all the other eastern nations, are extremely fond
These are made in European Turkey; and a number of after a long siege, and whose subsequent successes in the
fine bridles, martingales, and silver and embossed breast
pieces, come also from Persia. The fire-arms are chiefly
of French and German manufacture, being prepared in
an ornamented style expressly for this market. The
sabre blades are almost all of the old Persian or Damas¬
cus manufacture, the art of making them being no longer
known or practised in this city; so that they grow daily
more valuable, as no modern sword can compare with
them in temper and in quality. The silk seen in the ba-
war with Turkey have now (1833) secured to his father,
the pasha of Egypt, the possession of this fine city, by the
treaty recently concluded with Turkey. Buckingham, on
the authority of the best informed residents, estimates
the population of Damascus at 100,000 Mahommedan in¬
habitants, of whom 90,000 are native Syrian Arabs, and
10,000 are Turks, continually replaced by new families and
settlers from Constantinople and the towns of Asiatic Tur¬
key ; of these, 1000, with about 100 Albanians, form the
zars of Damascus is principally of Chinese and Indian military force of the city. From them also are chosen the
nianufacture; the furs come from Russia, Georgia, Cir- various public functionaries. There are, besides 15,000
cassia, and Armenia; the velvet from Italy; copper from Jews, 25,000 Christians, 3000 of the schismatic Greek
Asia Minor; the manufactures of Britain through Smyr- communion. Altogether the population may be stated at
608
DAM
Damask 143,000. It is 130 miles north of Jerusalem, 195 south
II Of Antioch, and 276 south -south-west of Diarbekir. i.ong.
Damiens. 30 39^ £, Lat. 38. 30. N. .
DAMASK, a sort of silken stuff, having some parts ris¬
ing above the ground, representing flowers or other hgures.
Damask should be of dressed silks, both in warp and woof
It derives its name from having been originally broug
from Damascus, in Syria.
Damask is also a kind of wrought linen, made in ^
ders and so called because its large flowers resemble
Zle of damasks. It is chiefly used for tables; and a
table-cloth with a dozen of napkins are called a damask
"damask is also applied to a very fine steel, pr^™1! m
some parts of the Levant, particularly at Damascus, i
Syria, whence its name. It is used tor sword and cutlass
“DAMASKEENINt^orDAMASKiNG, the art or opera-
tion of beautifying iron, steel, and some other metals, by
making incisions therein, and filling them up with gold or
silver. It is chiefly used for adorning sword-blades, guards,
loclcs of* pistols, unci tlio like# . n , i
Damaskeening partakes of the mosaic, of engraving, an
of carving. Like the mosaic, it has inlaid woik, like en¬
graving, it cuts the metal, representing divers figures;
and, as in chasing, gold and silver are wrought in relief.
There are two ways of damasking; the one, which is t
finest, is when'the metal is cut deep with proper instru¬
ments, and inlaid with gold and silver wire; the other is
SU DAMAUn! a sea-port of Hindustan, on the western
coast of the province of Aurungabad. It is a considera¬
ble place, though the commerce is now much reduced;
and it makes a conspicuous figure from the sea, tie
churches and houses being all white. I he Parsees have a
temple here, in which they pretend that the sacred fire
brought with them from Persia nearly twelve hundred
years ago is still burning. Ship-building to a considerab e
extent is here carried on, the teak forests being at no
(Treat distance. The harbour is convenient for small ves¬
sels, there being nearly seventeen feet of water over the
bar. This place was taken by the Portuguese in 1531,
and it still remains in their possession. Long. 73. 1.
' Lat. 20. 22. N. „ , T
DAMBACH, a town of the department of the Dower
Rhine, in France, at the foot of the Vosges Mountains, on
the river Scheer, containing 2761 inhabitants.
D AMELOPRE, a kind of bilander, used in Holland toi
conveying merchandise from one canal to another, and
very commodious for passing under the biidges.
DAM
or insanity in the perpetration of the horrid deeds of which Dam;
he was guilty, than by any of the motives to which they wy ’
have been ascribed. This spirit appeared in the early
period of his life; and such were the extravagance and
violence of his conduct, that, whilst a boy, he was distin*
guished by the appellation of Mert the Devil
When he grew up he entered into the army, served as
a soldier at the siege of Philipsburg, and was present at
several engagements. He returned afterwards to France,
and became a domestic servant in the College of Jesuits
at Paris. He married in 1738, which rendered it neces¬
sary for him to resign this service. He was then employ-
ed in the same capacity by different masters, one of whom,
it is said, he poisoned; and having robbed another, he was
obliged to abscond, in order to escape the punishment due
to ins crimes. During a period of five months after the
discovery of the robbery, he lurked in the neighbourhood
of St Omer, Dunkirk, and Brussels, and was observed to
express himself in an absurd and incoherent manner con¬
cerning some disputes which at this time prevailed in
France. The following soliloquy is said to have been ut¬
tered by him in a small town near Ypres: “ If I return to
France yes, I will return, I will die there, and the great¬
est of the earth shall die likewise, and you shall hear news
of me.” These expressions were uttered in the month of
August 1756 ; and it is probable that they were regarded
at the time only as the ravings of a madman. He spoke
indeed in a similar strain in the December following, at
the house of a relation, at Falesque, near Arras, saying,
« t]iat the kingdom, his wife, and daughter, were all ruin¬
ed.” It was about this time that he set out for Paris,
where he arrived on the 31st of December. He was seen
at Versailles on the first day of January 1757. In order
to blunt his feelings, and to prepare himself for the per¬
petration of the horrid act, it is said that he swallowed
opium for several days. But the state of mind in which
Damiens is described to have been for some time before,
seemed to render such auxiliaries unnecessary.
It was on the 5th of January, between five and six
o’clock in the evening, that Louis XV. was wounded by
the hand of this frantic assassin. Armed with a knife,
he struck the king on the right side, whilst the latter was
surrounded with his courtiers, and just as he was enter¬
ing his carriage to proceed to Irianon. Damiens was
almost instantly seized, examined or rather tortured at
Versailles, and afterwards sent to Paris and confined in
the tower of Montgommery, in an apartment prepared for
him, near to that which had formerly been occupied by
Ravaillac, the murderer of Henry IV. The great court
of parliament was charged by the king to institute his
, 1.1 i_ 1 thp most erne
ry commodious for passing under the bridges. process • and although he was subjected to the most cruel
DAMGAN, a town of Persia, in the province of Kho- process and alt & ^ Je led fortitude) no
rassan. It is supposed to have been the ancient Hecatom
pylos, for some time the metropolis of the Parthian em¬
pire It is the chief town of a district of the same name,
situated in a spacious plain, famous for a victory gained
by Nadir Shah over the Afghans. Long. 53. 36. E. Eat.
35. 50. N.
DAMIANISTS, in Ecclesiastical History, a branch of
toe ancient Acephali-severitse. They agreed with the Ca¬
tholics in admitting the sixth council, but disowned any
distinction of persons in the Godhead, and professed one
single nature, incapable of any difference; yet they called
God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. . .
DAMIANO, St, a town of Italy, in the province Com,
of the kingdom of Sardinia. It stands on the river Maira,
and contains 1498 inhabitants.
tortures, which he bore with unexampled fortitude, no
confession or acknowledgment could be extorted which
afforded the smallest ground of suspicion that he had a
single accomplice. When it was found that the torture
failed in effecting the purpose for which it was inflicted,
he was condemned to die by the same punishment which
Ravaillac suffered. . , , c , oe
The 28th of March following was the day fixed as tha
of his execution. When brought to the Pte de Grm,
where the apparatus and instruments of destruction we
prepared, he beheld all these with an undismayed cou -
tenance and a tearless eye, although he must have kw™
well that new and more dreadful t.°ytu’'es, yet. a nfhis
him. His punishment commenced with the burning
right handl in which the knife with which he had wounj-
and contains 1498 inhabitants. rig t an , in w "c hjs flesh was then torn with red-
DAMIENS, Robert Francis, an assassin, by whom ed the king was p ’ filled with molten wax,
Louis XV. of France was wounded in the year 175/. He h°t P^ers, a ^ lead and boiling oil. In attempting
was born at Tieulloy, in the diocese of Arras, in t le year pi > P ’, , ’ tj pour ilorses which were employ-
1714, and seems rather to have been actuated by frenzy to quarter his body, the tour
DAM
-bbiw. ed pulled in vain for fifty minutes. All their efforts seem-
ed to be ineffectual, till the executioners cut with knives
the ligaments by which the limbs are attached to the body.
Even after the legs had been cut he was still alive; and
it was only when the arms had been treated in the same
way that he ceased to breathe, and his body was dismem¬
bered. The period of his punishment, from the time
when he was put upon the scaffold until his death, was
not less than an hour and a half, during the greater part
of which time he seemed to retain his recollection; for
he raised his head many times, and cast his eyes on his
mangled and burnt limbs, and on the horses which were
then exerting their whole force to tear his body asunder;
and even during the severest of his tortures, the firmness
of his mind was so little shaken that he affected some
degree of jocularity. See Pieces originates et procedures
du Proces fait d Robert-Francois Damiens, Paris, 1757,
4to; also, Recueil de Pieces curieuses et rares qui ont paru
lors du Proces de Damiens, Paris, 1760, 12mo.
DAMIETTA, a large town of Lower Egypt, situated
on the eastern branch of the Nile, about six miles above
its junction with the sea. Under the lower empire it was
called Thamiatis, and succeeded to the wealth and conse¬
quence of Pelusium, then rapidly declining with the dry¬
ing up of the branch on which it was situated. During
the middle ages it was a grand debateable point between
the Saracens and the crusaders, being considered as a prin¬
cipal key, not only of Egypt, but of the Holy Land. The
most remarkable siege was in 1218, when the crusaders,
after investing it for seventeen months, and after several
sharp actions, succeeded in taking the place ; but having
allowed themselves to be entangled amid the canals of
the Nile, and surrounded by the Egyptian army, they were
forced to exchange their conquest for liberty to reimbark.
In 1249 St Louis carried the place by a coup-de-main;
but being soon afterwards taken prisoner, he too purchas¬
ed his freedom by restoring it. The Arabians then burn¬
ed the place, but it was subsequently rebuilt somewhat
higher up the river.
Damietta is situated on the narrow neck of land, from
two to six miles in breadth, interposed between the Nile
and the lake Menzaleh. Its general appearance is as pic¬
turesque as that of any Egyptian town not dignified by the
remains of antiquity; the houses are white, and built in a
crescent along the right bank of the river, where it takes
a bend; and on the opposite side is a peninsula, with the
village of Selanie, half seen amidst a grove of sycamore and
palm trees. The houses, especially near the river, are
very high; most of them have pleasant saloons on their
terraced roofs, commanding a delightful view of the Nile,
the lake, and the rich country intervening. The walls,
lormerly so strong, are now in ruins, and the two modern
t forts are not in a defensible state. The chief disadvan¬
tage of Damietta consists in the want of a harbour, vessels
being obliged to lie in the roads at the mouth of the river,
where they are exposed to all winds. Notwithstanding
this disadvantage, the commerce of Damietta is very con¬
siderable. That with the European states, indeed, is almost
quite engrossed by Alexandria; but with Syria and Cy¬
prus, and other parts of the Turkish empire, Damietta
maintains an extensive intercourse. It exports thither
hides, tallow, rice, and occasionally corn, whilst it receives
in return tobacco to the extent of 115,000 quintals, wood,
soap, cotton, and raw silk. The country around Dami-
etta is perhaps the most fertile in Egypt, as the ample
opportunities for irrigating the land are assiduously im¬
proved. There is a very extensive cultivation of a spe-
I cies of rice called mezelaoui, which surpasses in quality
any other raised in Egypt. The embankments formed
for raising, and the extensive buildings and mills employ-
vol. vir.
DAM
ed in cleaning and bleaching it, employ a very consider¬
able capital. Ibis branch of industry is reported to have
suliered much from the French whilst they occupied the
country. In the neighbourhood of the city there are very
extensive salt-pans, into which the water is admitted at
the season of. the year wdien the Nile is low, in conse¬
quence of which a considerable influx from the sea takes
place. This territory, with the city itself, is threatened by
a serious danger from the gradual encroachments of the
lake of Menzaleh towards the river, by which the space
between these two waters is gradually diminished. An¬
other apprehension is, that this branch of the Nile, which
is annually becoming shallower, will cease in a few years
to be navigable for boats of large burden. Under a more
active nation and government this danger might be easily
guarded against, but the Turkish administration seem to
have viewed it chiefly as a pretence for raising money,
and the works hitherto attempted for the purpose have
generally failed in a few years.
The population of Damietta is stated by Savary at
80,000, but more sober estimates reduce it to 30,000 or
40,000. Though surrounded on every side by water, its
air is considered as very salubrious; and the children of
foreigners, who, it appears, have in Cairo scarcely any
chance of arriving at maturity, are reared here without
any peculiar danger or difficulty.
I he inhabitants subsist chiefly upon fish, which is fur¬
nished in great abundance and excellence from the lake
Menzaleh, and many hundred quintals of which are salt¬
ed for exportation. Wild fowls are also very plentiful;
but butcher-meat is bad, scarce, and dear. The commer¬
cial part of the society consists chiefly of Christians from
Syria, who are accused of being addicted to habits of in¬
toxication in even a greater degree than is usual with
those of the same profession in Mahommedan countries.
Long. 31. 49. 45. E. Lat. 31. 25. N.
DAMMARTIN, a town of France, in the department
of the Seine and Marne, with 340 houses, and 1950 inha¬
bitants.
DAMME, a town of the duchy of Oldenburg, in Ger¬
many, containing 967 inhabitants. It was a district held
in common between Hanover and Oldenburg till the year
1816, when it was conveyed to the latter state.
DAMNII, anciently a people of Britain, situated be¬
tween the Selgovae to the south and the Caledonii to the
north. Now Clydesdale.
DAMOCLES, one of the flatterers of Dionysius the
Elder of Sicily. He admired the tyrant’s wealth, and
pronounced him the happiest man on earth. Dionysius
prevailed upon him to undertake for a while the charge of
royalty, and be convinced of the happiness which a sove¬
reign enjoyed. Damocles ascended the throne, and whilst
he gazed upon the wealth and splendour which surrounded
him, he perceived a sword suspended over his head by a
horse hair. This so terrified him that all his imaginary
felicity vanished at once, and he begged Dionysius to re¬
move him from a situation which exposed his life to such
fears and dangers.
DAMON, the name of several illustrious ancients, par¬
ticularly of a Pythagorean philosopher very intimate with
Pythias. When he had been condemned to death by
Dionysius, he obtained from the tyrant leave to go and
settle his domestic affairs, on promise of returning at a
stated hour to the place of execution. Pythias pledged
himself to undergo the punishment which was to be in¬
flicted on Damon, should he not return in time, and he
consequently delivered himself into the hands of the tyrant.
Damon returned at the appointed moment, and Dionysius
was so struck with the fidelity of those two friends, that
having remitted the punishment, he entreated them to
4 H
609
Dam-
martin
Damon.
*
610
DAM
permit him to share their friendship and enjoy their con-
^'dAMPIER, William, an English navigator, was born
at East Coker, in Somersetshire, about the year 1654. ti s
parents died whilst he was young, and having thus becom
P”“pham he was removed from the Latin school, and
placed with the master of a ship at Weymouth. In this ship
he made a voyage to Newfoundland; but, on his retur ,
he left his master, with the resolution, as he hm,self ob¬
serves, of never again exposing himself to. ^ Pinching
cold of that northern climate. As the acquisition of ex
perience in the art of navigation was ever his great object,
L engaged himself as a common sailor in a voyage to the
East Indies. He served in the Dutch war under Sir Edward
Snraa-ue and was present at two engagements, ihe de
cUnino state of his health would not permit him to remain
on board the fleet; he therefore came on shore, and re
moved to the country, where he remained some time. The
year following he accepted an oBer ot employment in Ja-
Sa as an tmder-manager of an estate I but h o„,y c
tinued a short time in this situation; after which lie en
„a„ed in a coasting trader, and thus acquired an accurate
knowledge of all the ports and bays of that island. Soon
afterwards he entered on board a vessel bound for he
bav of Camneachy, and returning a second time to the
same coast, he remained with the logwood-cutters, and en¬
gaged himself as a common workman. During his stay in
thfs country he collected the materials for the minute and
interesting account which he has given of the aborious
life of these people, as well as of the geographical descrip¬
tion and the natural history of the tract which they occupy.
Satisfied with the knowledge which he had obtained o
the nature of the trade and country, he returned to Ja¬
maica, and thence proceeded to England, where he an iv-
ed in 1678. About the beginning of the year following
he went out to Jamaica as a passenger, with the intention
of revisiting the bay of Campeachy ; but he was persuad¬
ed to associate himself with a body of privateers, as they
were called, who were then lying in several vessels in a
bay of that island. These people, called privateers, were
in reality pirates, who, having no commission whatever
from any government, undertook a predatory warfare on
the commerce and settlements of the Spaniards. This
body of plunderers was composed of English, Dutch, and
French. In this expedition Dampier crossed the isthmus
of Darien with his associates, spent the year 1680 on the
Peruvian coast, and was occasionally successful m plu -
dering the towns. The following year, in consequence of
a dissension which arose among them, Dampier, and the
minority with whom he had joined, recrossed the isthmus,
and engaged with another fleet of privateers, which was
then stationed on the Spanish Main ; and having spent
another year amongst the West India islands, he, with
some others, proceeded to Virginia m a single ship, m ol¬
der to dispose of their prize goods. Here he remained
for a year ; and afterwards engaged with a Captain Cook,
who, with about seventy men, undertook an expedition
against the Spaniards in the South Seas. They sailed
in the month of August 1683, touched at the coast of
Guinea, and then proceeded round Cape Horn into the
Pacific Ocean. Having fallen in with a ship from London,
which had sailed on a similar expedition, they joined com¬
pany ; and, touching at the island of Juan Fernandez, they
made the coast of South America, cruizing along Chili and
Peru. They took some prizes, and with these they pro¬
ceeded to the Mexican coast, which they fell in with near
Cape Blanco. While they lay here Captain Cook died,
and the command devolved on Captain Davis. Having
separated from the London ship, they were joined by ano¬
ther commanded by Captain Swan. An attempt to plun-
D A M
der the town of Guayaquil was unsuccessful, but at the Damp),
.i c ~ 4-lv^xr tnnh cnmp vpssels whir.h had nhnnf 1
der the town oi wao at uie nampjjj $
mouth of the river they took some vessels which had aboutyv J
1000 slaves on board. With these negroes Dampier pro-
posed to work the gold mines in the neighbourhood of
Santa Maria, on the isthmus of Darien, from which the
Spaniards had been driven away by some privateers. But
this plan was not attempted. Ihe next object of plunder
was the Spanish fleet having on board the treasure of the
Peruvian mines; but the English being ill supported by
some French ships which had joined them, the fleet, after
a running fight, got safe into 1 anama..
The English ships, afterwards cruizing along the coast
of Mexico, landed, took the town of Puebla Nova, and
burnt two others. Dampier leaving Davis, went on board
of Swan’s ship, and proceeded with him along the north¬
ern parts of Mexico, as far as the southern part of Cali¬
fornia. During this expedition they frequently landed for
the purpose of plunder, but particularly when they weie
in want of provisions. Returning from the plunder of one
place, fifty of the party were killed by the Spaniards. This
disaster so discouraged them that they relinquished all
further attempts on these coasts. Swan then proposed to
run across the Pacific Ocean, and return by the East
Indies ; and, in hopes of a successful cruise off the Manil¬
las, the crew were persuaded, with a very slender stocK
of provisions, to risk this long passage. On the last day of
March 1686, they took their departure from Cape Corn-
entes, and on the fifty-second day reached Guam, one of
the Ladrone Islands. About this time the crew talked of
killing and eating Swan and the other officers, in case their
stock of provisions should be exhausted before it could
be supplied. From Guam they proceeded to Mindanao.
Whilst the ship lay here a mutiny arose among the crew,
and the majority carried her oft, Swan and some of Ins
people being left on the island. Among the former was
Dampier, although it is said that he had no concern in the
mutiny After cruizing some time oft Manilla, and having
careened their vessel at Pulo Condore, in 1687, they were
driven to the Chinese coast, made the circuit of Luzoma
and Mindanao, passed through the group of Spice Islands,
and reached the coast of New Holland in the beginning of
1688 They left this in March, and having passed along
the west coast of Sumatra, they arrived at the Nicobar
Islands, where Dampier, at his own request, and two other
Englishmen, a Portuguese, and some Malays, were seton
shore. Dampier’s object was to establish a trade in am¬
bergris. Attempting to navigate a canoe to Acheen in
Sumatra, they were overtaken by a severe storm, in which
they experienced great hardships. They at last reached
Sumatra; but the fatigues and distress of the voyage
proved fatal to several of them, who were carried oft by
a fever. Dampier himself was scarcely recovered at the
end of a twelvemonth. After making several voyages to
different places of the East Indies, he acted for some time
as gunner to the English fort of Bencoolen. In 109h
wishing to revisit his native country he embarked on boaut
a ship bound for England, where he arrived in Septe
her. At this time he brought with him a native of Mean
Gs, one of the Spice Islands, who was supposed to be the
son of a chief, and after being exhibited as a cuuo . y,
died of the small-pox at Oxford. . i ed
it is not known in what manner Dampier was em }
for some years after this period. It appears, howeve,
that he was at last engaged in the king Sbt™'^s and
the command of the Roebuck, a sloop of twelve g
fifty men. This vessel, it is supposed, was htted “
some voyage of discovery, for she had twenty mon P
visions on board. He sailed from Bntam m 169y, to
ed at the coast of Brazil, and then ran across to the ^
of New Holland, and arrived there on the 1st ot a &
DAM
3am , about latitude twenty-six degrees. He proceeded north-
wards along the coast, exploring the country in different
places where he landed. To procure refreshments he
found it necessary to direct his course towards Timor;
and from this he sailed to the coast of New Guinea, where
he arrived on the 3d of December. By sailing along to
its easternmost extremity he discovered that it was ter¬
minated by an island, which he circumnavigated, and nam¬
ed New Britain.
Here it would appear from his own journal that he en¬
countered considerable difficulties from the small number
of his men, and their eager desire to hasten home. On
account of these difficulties he was prevented from prose¬
cuting his discoveries. In May he returned to Timor,
and thence proceeded homeward by Batavia and the Cape
of Good Hope. In February 1701 he arrived off the
island of Ascension, when the vessel sprung a leak and
foundered ; and it was with much difficulty that the crew
reached the island. They remained at Ascension till they
were taken away by an East India ship, and conveyed to
England. This closes the account of Dampier’s life and
adventures as it is detailed by himself. It appears, how¬
ever, from the preface to the third volume, that he was
preparing in 1703 for another voyage. It is mentioned
also in Woodes Rogers’ Voyage round the World, that
Dampier had the command of a ship in the South Seas
about the year 1705, along wdth Captain Stradling, whose
vessel foundered at sea. Dampier accompanied Woodes
Rogers in his voyage round the world, in the years 1708,
1709, 1710, and 1711, but only in the capacity of pilot,
which is supposed to be owing to something faulty in his
conduct. During this expedition Guayaquil was taken,
and Dampier had the command of the artillery. Nothing
further is known of the life of Dampier; and we are equally
ignorant of the place and time of his death.
The works of Dampier are well known, and have been
often reprinted. They consist of, 1. A Voyage round the
World, 3 vols. 8vo; 2. A Supplement to it, describing
the countries'of Tonquin, Malacca, &c.; 3. Two Voyages
to Campeachy ; 4*. A Discourse of Trade-winds, Seasons,
Tides, &c. in the Torrid Zone ; 5. A Voyage to New Hol¬
land. His observations are curious and important, and
conveyed in a plain manly style. His nautical remarks
discover a great deal of professional knowledge. His
knowledge in natural history is not scientific; but it ap¬
pears to be accurate, and has been frequently quoted.
Dampier’s Straits. These straits separate the Wa-
geeoo Isles from the island of Battanta. They have from
twelve to forty fathoms through the passage.
DAMPS, in Natural History, are certain noxious ex¬
halations issuing from some parts of the earth, and which
prove almost instantly fatal to those who breathe them.
These damps are chiefly observed in mines and coal¬
pits, though vapours of the same kind often issue from
old lavas of burning mountains; and, in those countries
where volcanoes are common, it is said that they fill the
houses, and destroy people suddenly without the least
warning of their approach. In mines and coal-pits they
are chiefly of two kinds, called by the miners and colliers
the choke fire-damps ; and both go under one general
name of foul air. The choke-damps, known in modern
chemistry by the name of fixed air, or carbonic acid gas,
usually infest those places which have been formerly
worked, but long neglected, and are called by the miners
wastes. No place, however, can be reckoned safe from
this kind of damps, except where there is a due circula-
1 tion of air; and the procuring of this is the only proper
means of preventing accidents from damps of all kinds.
Ihe choke-damp suffocates the miners suddenly, with all
the appearances found in those that are suffocated by fixed
DAM 611
air. Being heavy, it descends towards the lowest parts Damps,
of the workings, and thus is dangerous to the miners, who
can scarcely avoid breathing it. The fire-damp, which is
inflammable air, or hydrogen gas, rises to the roof of the
workings, as being specifically lighter than the common
atmosphere; and hence, though it will suffocate as well
as the other, it seldom proves so dangerous in this way
as by its inflammable property, by which it often takes
fire at the candles, and explodes with extreme violence.
In the Philosophical Transactions (No. 119), there is
an account of some explosions by damps of this kind, on
which the following observations have been made. First,
Those who are in the place where the vapour is fired sud¬
denly find themselves surrounded with flames, but hear
little or no noise; though those who are in places adja¬
cent, or above ground, hear a very great one. Secondly,
Those who are surrounded by the inflamed vapour feel
themselves scorched or burnt, but are not moved out of
their places, though such as. unhappily stand in the wray
of it are commonly killed by the violence of the shock,
and often thrown with great force out at the mouth of the
pit; nor are the heaviest machines found able to resist the
impetuosity of the blast. Thirdly, No smell is perceived
before the fire, but a very strong one of brimstone is af¬
terwards perceptible. Fourthly, The vapour lies towards
the roofi and is not perceived if the candles are held low;
but when these are held higher, the damp descends like
a black mist, and catches hold of the flame, lengthening
it to two or three handfuls; and this appearance ceases
wdien the candles are held nearer the ground. Fifthly,
The flame continues in the vault for several minutes after
the crack. Sixthly, Its colour is blue, something inclin¬
ing to green, and very bright. Seventhly, On the explo¬
sion of the vapour, a dark smoke like that proceeding from
fired gunpowder is perceived. Eighthly, Damps are gene¬
rally observed to come about the latter end of May, and
to continue during the heat of summer. They return se¬
veral times during the summer season, but observe no cer¬
tain rule.
Besides these kinds of damps, which are very common,
we find others described in the Philosophical Transactions,
concerning the nature of which we can say nothing. In¬
deed the account seems somewhat suspicious. They are
given by Mr Jessop, from whom we have the foregoing
observations concerning the fire-damp, and who had these
from the miners in Derbyshire. After describing the
common damp, which consists of fixed air, “ They call
the second sort,” says he, “ the peas-bloom damp, be¬
cause, as they say, it smells like peas-bloom. They tell
me it always comes in the summer time ; and those grooves
are not free which are never troubled with any other sort
of damps. I never heard that it was mortal, the scent,
perhaps, freeing them from the danger of a surprise; but
by reason of it many good grooves lie idle at the best and
most profitable time of the year, when the subterraneous
waters are the lowest. They fancy it proceeds from the
multitude of red-trefoil flowers, by them called honey¬
suckles, with which the limestone meadows in the Peake
do much abound. The third is the strangest and most
pestilential of any, if all be true which is said concerning
it. Those who pretend to have seen it, for it is visible,
describe it thus : In the highest part of the roof of those
passages which branch out from the main groove, they
often see a round thing hanging, about the bigness of a
foot-ball, covered with a skin of the thickness and colour
of a cobweb. This, they say, if it is broke by any acci¬
dent, as the splinter of a stone, or the like, disperseth it¬
self immediately, and suffocates all the company. There¬
fore, to prevent casualties, as soon as they have espied it,
they have a way, by the help of a stick and long rope, of
612
DAN
Damsel breaking it at a distance; which done, they purify the
II place well with fire before they dare enter it again. I
Danae. not avouch the truth of this story in all its circum-
stances, because the proof of it seems impossible, since
they say it kills all that are likely to bear witness to the
particulars: neither do I deny but such a thing may have
been seen hanging on the roof, since I have heard many
affirm it.” (See Safety Lamp.)
DAMSEL, from the French demoiselle, an appellation
anciently given to all young people of either sex, that were
of noble or genteel extraction, as the sons and daughters
of princes, knights, and barons; thus we read of Damsel
Pepin, Damsel Louis le Gros, Damsel Richard Prince
of Wales. From the sons of kings this appellation first
passed to those of great lords and barons, and at length to
those of gentlemen who were not yet knights.
D \MSONG, a town of Northern Hindustan, in the
province of Bootan, situated on the eastern side ot the
Teesta or Yo Sanpoo river. Long. 89. 9. b. bat.
5. N.
DAN, or Jor-dan, which last literally denotes the
river Dan; so named from the district where it has its
source, which is a lake called Phiala, from its round figure,
to the north of its apparent rising in the mountain 1 a-
nium or Paneum, as was discovered by Philip, tetrarch of
Trachonites; for on throwing light bodies into the Phiala,
he found them to emerge again at Paneum. From Pa¬
neum it runs in a direct course to a lake called Samacho-
nites, to which it is called Jordan the Less ; thence to the
lake of Genesareth, or of Tiberias, where it becomes in¬
creased by the lake Samachonites and its springs, and is
called the Greater Jordan; and continuing its direct
course southwards, it falls into the Asphaltites.
Dan, in Ancient Geography, a town to the west of the
source of the Jordan; formerly called Lais. This was
the northern, as Beersheba was the southern, boundary of
the Israelites ; as appears from the common expression in
Scripture, from Dan to Beersheba.
Dan, the tribe, extended itself westward of Judah,
and was terminated by Azotas and Dora on the Medi¬
terranean.
DANAE, in Antiquity, a coin somewhat more than an
obolus, which used to be put into the mouths of the dead,
to pay their passage across the river Acheron.
Danae, in fabulous history, was the daughter of Acn-
sius, king of Argos, by Eurydice. She was confined in a
brazen tower by her father, who had been told by an oia-
cle that his daughter’s son would put him to death. But
his endeavours to prevent Danae from becoming a mo¬
ther proved fruitless; and Jupiter, who was enamoured of
her, introduced himself into her bed by changing himself
into a golden shower. From his embraces Danae had a
son, with whom she was exposed on the sea by her father.
But the wind drove the bark which carried her to the
coasts of the island of Seriphus, where she was saved by
some fishermen, and carried to Polydectes, king of the
place, whose brother, Dictys, educated the child, called
Perseus, and treated the mother tenderly. Polydectes
fell in love with Danae; but as he was afraid of her son,
he sent him to conquer the Gorgons, pretending that he
wished Medusa’s head to adorn the nuptials which he was
about to celebrate with Hippodamia, the daughter of
Oenomaus. When Perseus, however, had victoriously
finished his expedition, he retired to Argos with Danae,
to the house of Acrisius, whom he inadvertently killed.
Some suppose that it was Proetus, the brother of Acrisius,
who introduced himself to Danae in the brazen tower;
and instead of a golden shower, it was maintained that
the keepers of Danae were bribed by the gold of her
seducer. Virgil mentions that Danae came to Italy with
DAN
some fugitives of Argos, and that she founded a city call- Dana;
ed Ardea. || ,
DAN AIDES, in fabulous history, the fifty daughters of han^
Danaus, king of Argos. When their uncle iEgyptus came W '
from Egypt with his fifty sons, they were promised in
marriage to their cousins; but before the celebration of
their nuptials, Danaus, who had been informed by an
oracle that he was to be killed by the hands of one of his
sons-in-law, made his daughters solemnly promise that
they would destroy their husbands. They were provided
with daggers by their father; and all, except Hypermnes-
tra, stained their hands with the blood of their cousins the
first night of their nuptials; after which, and as a pledge
of their obedience to their father’s injunctions, they pre¬
sented him each with the heads of the murdered sons of
Egyptus. Hypermnestra was summoned to appear before
her father, and answer for her disobedience in suffering
her husband Lynceus to escape; but the unanimous voice
of the people declared her innocent, and she dedicated a
temple to the goddess of Persuasion. The sisters were
purified of this murder by Mercury and Minerva, con¬
formably to the orders of Jupiter; but according to the
more received opinion, they were condemned to severe
punishment in hell, and were compelled to fill with water
a vessel full of holes, so that the water ran out as soon as
poured into it; for which cause their labour was infinite,
and their punishment eternal. The heads of the sons of
TEgyptus were buried at Argos; but their bodies were
left at Lerna, where the murder had been committed.
DANAUS, in fabulous history, a son of Belus and
Anchinoe, who, after his father’s death, reigned conjointly
with his brother iEgyptus on the throne of Egypt. Some
time afterwards, a difference arose between the brothers,
and Danaus set sail with his fifty daughters in quest of a
settlement. He visited Rhodes, where he consecrated a
statue to Minerva, and arrived safely on the coast of Pelo¬
ponnesus, where he was hospitably received by Gelanor,
king of Argos. Gelanor had but newdy ascended the
throne, and the first years of his reign were marked by
dissensions with his subjects. Danaus took advantage of
Gelanor’s unpopularity, and obliged him to renounce the
crown. In Gelanor the race of the Inachidae was extin¬
guished, and in Danaus the Belides began to reign at Ar¬
gos. Some authors say that Gelanor voluntarily resigned
the crown to Danaus, on account of the wrath of Nep¬
tune, who had dried up all the waters of Argolis, in order
to punish the impiety of Inachus. The success of Danaus
invited the fifty sons of iEgyptus to embark for Greece.
They were kindly received by their uncle; who, either
apprehensive of their number, or terrified by an oracle
which threatened his ruin by one of his sons-in-law, caus¬
ed his daughters, to whom they were promised in mar¬
riage, to murder them the first night of their nuptials.
His order was executed. Hypermnestra alone spared the
life of Lynceus. Danaus at first persecuted Lynceus with
unremitted fury; but he was afterwards reconciled to
him, and he acknowledged him as his son-in-law and suc¬
cessor after a reign of fifty years. He began his reign
about 1586 years before the Christian era; and after his
death he was honoured with a splendid monument in the
town of Argos, which existed in the age of Fausamas.
According to fEschylus, Danaus left Egypt not to be pre¬
sent at the marriage of his daughters with the sons o us
brother, a connection which he deemed unlawful and im¬
pious.
DANCALI, an extensive territory of Eastern Africa,
situated between Abyssinia and the Red Sea, the coas
of which it occupies from the bay of Azab to that calie
by Lord Valentia Annesley Bay, leaving only a small por¬
tion of sea-coast, which is properly Abyssinian, tn
DAN
tract is in general arid and barren, and it is only in the
rainy season that the channels of its rivers are filled so
as to reach the sea. The inhabitants are all black; but
only some of them have the woolly hair which is charac¬
teristic of the negro race. They profess the religion of
Mahommed; but know little more of it than the name, as
they have neither priests nor mosques. They are divided
into a number of separate tribes, the principal of which
are called Drumhoeta, Belesna, and Hadarem. They for¬
merly united with Adel, or Adaiel, in their wars against
Abyssinia; but the interposition of a tribe of Galla has
now separated them. They can muster about 6000 men,
but their poverty is such that only one man in ten pos¬
sesses a spear. On their western frontier is situated the
great plain from which all Abyssinia is supplied with fos¬
sil salt. The Dancali tribes are partly employed in cut¬
ting out and conveying this salt; but others follow the ruder
pursuit of attacking the caravans by which it is carried
into the interior.
DANCE, or Dancing, as at present practised, may be
defined an agreeable motion of the body, adjusted by art
to the measures or tones of instruments, or of the voice.
But, according to what some reckon more agreeable to
the true genius of the art, dancing is the art of express¬
ing the sentiments of the mind, or the passions, by mea¬
sured steps or bounds that are made in cadence, by re¬
gulated motions of the body, and by graceful gestures;
all performed to the sound of musical instruments or of
the voice.
There is no account of the origin of the practice of
dancing amongst mankind. It is found to exist amongst all
nations whatever, even the most rude and barbarous ; and,
indeed, however much the assistance of art may be ne¬
cessary to make anyone perfect in the practice, the foun¬
dation must certainly lie in the human constitution itself.
As barbarous people are observed to have the strongest
passions, so they are also observed to be the most easily
affected by sounds, and the most habitually addicted to
dancing. Sounds to us the most disagreeable, the drum¬
ming of sticks upon an empty cask, or the noise made by
blowing into reeds incapable of yielding one musical note
tolerable to us, is agreeable music to them. Much more
are they affected by the sound of instruments which have
any thing agreeable in them. Mr Gall ini informs us, that
“ The spirit of dancing prevails almost beyond imagination
among both men and women in most parts of Africa. It
is even more than instinct, it is a rage, in some countries
of that part of the globe. Upon the Gold Coast especial¬
ly, the inhabitants are so passionately fond of it, that in
the midst of their hardest labour, if they hear a person
sing, or any musical instrument played, they cannot re¬
frain from dancing. There are even well-attested storiefc
of some negroes flinging themselves at the feet of an Eu¬
ropean playing on a fiddle, entreating him to desist, unless
he had a mind to tire them to death ; it being impossible
for them to cease dancing while he continued playing.”
The same thing is found to take place in America,
though, as the inhabitants of that continent are found to be
of a more fierce and barbarous nature than the African
nations, their dances are still more uncouth and barbarous
than those of the negroes. “ In Mexico,” says Gallini,
‘ they have also their dances and music, but in the most
uncouth and barbarous style. For their symphony they
have wooden drums, something in form of a kettledrum,
Hith a kind of pipe or flageolet made of a hollow cane or
reed, but very grating to an European ear. It is observed
t ley love every thing that makes a noise, how disagreeable
soever the sound is. They will also hum over something
^e a tune when they dance thirty or forty in a circle,
sketching out their hands, and laying them on each other’s
DAN
shoulders. They stamp and jump, and use the most an¬
tic gestures for several hours, till they are heartily weary.
And one or two of the company sometimes step out of
the rings to make sport for the rest, by showing feats of
activity, throwing their lances up into the air, catching
them again, bending backwards and springing forwards
with great agility.”
The origin of dancing amongst the Greeks was most cer¬
tainly the same as amongst all other nations; but as they
proceeded a certain length in civilization, their dances
were of consequence more regular and agreeable than
those of the more barbarous nations. They reduced
dancing into a kind of regular system; and had dances
proper for exciting, by means of the sympathy above men¬
tioned, any passion whatsoever in the minds of the behold¬
ers. In this way they are said to have proceeded lengths
to us absolutely incredible. At Athens it is stated that
the dance of the Eumenides or Furies on the theatre had
so expressive a character as to strike the spectators with
irresistible terror. Men grown old in the profession of
arms trembled; the multitude ran out; women with child
miscarried; people imagined they saw in earnest those
terrible deities commissioned with the vengeance of hea¬
ven to pursue and punish crimes upon earth.
The Greeks had martial dances, which they reckoned
useful in keeping up and cherishing the warlike spirit of
their youth ; but the Romans, though equally warlike with
the Greeks, never had any thing of the kind. This may
probably be owing to the want of that romantic turn for
which the Greeks were so remarkable. The Romans had
no heroes among them, such as Flercules, Achilles, or Ajax;
nor does the whole Roman history furnish an example of
a general who made war after the manner of Alexander
the Great. Though their soldiers were as valiant as ever
the Greeks could pretend to be, the object with them was
the honour of the republic, and not their own personal
praise. Hence there was less fury, and much more cool
deliberate valour, exercised by the Romans than by any
other nation whatsoever. The passions of pride, resent¬
ment, obstinacy, and the like, were excited in them, not
by the mechanical means of music and dancing, but by
being taught that it was their chief honour to fight for
the republic. It does not, however, appear that the Ro¬
mans were at all less capable of being affected in this
mechanical manner than the Greeks. When dancing was
once introduced, it had the very same effects at Rome as
at Athens.
Amongst the Jews dancing seems to have formed a part
of the religious worship on some occasions, as we learn
from some passages in the Psalms, though we do not find
either saltation or singing positively enjoined by a divine
precept. In the Christian churches mentioned in the New
1 estament, there is no account of dancing being intro¬
duced as an act of worship, though it is certain that it
was used as such in after-ages. Mr Gallini tells us, that
“ at Limoges, not long ago, the people used to dance the
round in the choir of the church which is under the invo¬
cation of their patron saint; and at the end of each psalm,
instead of the Gloria Patri, they sung, St Marcel, pray for
us, and we shall dance in honour of you” Though dancing
would now be looked upon as the highest degree of pro¬
fanation in a religious assembly, yet it is certain that
dancing, considered as an expression of joy, is no more
a profanation than singing, or than simple speaking; nor
can it be thought in the least degree more absurd that a
Christian should dance for joy that Jesus Christ is risen
from the dead, than that David danced before the ark
when it was returned to him after a long absence.
Plato reduces the dances of the ancients to three class¬
es : first, the military dances, which tended to make the
613
Dance.
614
DAN
Dance.
body robust, active, and well disposed for all the exer-
rises of war; secondly, the domestic dances, which ha
for their object an agreeable and innocent relaxation and
imusementJ; .hirdlyt the mediatorial dance^ wh,ch were
in use in expiations and sacrifices. Of mlll^ryd»
there were two sorts ; the gymnopedic dance, or the da^^
of children ; and the enophan, or armed dance. 1 ^
Spartans had invented the first as_ an ear y -
the courage of their children, and in order to lead them
on inseniky to the exercise of the armed^ dance This
children’s dance used to be executed in th® Pmen
It was composed of two choirs, the on? a jo-ned f0r
Sn&xD&S&xs
Dionysodotus. The enoplian or
caH^d^ule/rod/sjf o^footing’^consisted in a quick sWfting
ntlnn nf the feet, such as was necessary foi oveitaking
“Zn» enemv! ol for getting away from him when an
'overmatch; the second, the xiplnsm, a kind of mock fight,
b which the dancers imitated all the motions ot combat¬
ants aiming a stroke, darting a javelm, or dexteiousy
dodging, parrying, or avoiding a blow or thrust; the t m
nart’ called the komos, consisted m very high leaps
vaultings, which the dancers frequently repeated 01
better accustoming themselves occasionally to leap over a
ditch or spring over a wall: the tetracomos, or the murth
andtat ^“was a square figure, f ecu«d by s ow and
majestic movements, but it is uncertain whether this was
everywhere executed in the same manner. .
Of all the Greeks, the Spartans were those who most
cultivated the Pyrrhic dance. Athenseus relates, that
they had a law by which they were obliged to exerase
their children in it from the age of five yeais. I his war
like people constantly retained the custom of accompany¬
ing- their dances with hymns and songs. The tollowi g
was sung for the dance called trichona, said to .be insti¬
tuted by Lycurgus, and which had its name from its being
composed of three choirs, one of children, another of
young men, and the third of old. The old men opened
die dance, saying, “ In time past we were valiant. {The
young men answered, “We are so at present. We
shall be still more so when our time comes, replied the
chorus of children. The Spartans never danced except
with real arms. In process of time, however, other nations
came to use only weapons of wood sucb occ , '
Nay, it was only so late as the days of Athenams, who
lived in the second century, that the dancers of the 1 yr-
rhic, instead of arms, carried only flasks, and lyy-houn
wands (thyrsus) or reeds. But, even in Aristotle s days,
thev had begun to use thyrsuses instead of pikes, and
lighted torches instead of javelins and swords. With these
torches they executed a dance called tne conflagration
of the world.
Of the dances for amusement and recreation, some were
simply gambols, or sportive exercises, which had no cha¬
racter of imitation, and of which the greater part exist to
this day. The others were more complex, agreeable, figur¬
ed, and were always accompanied with singing. Amongst
the first or simple ones was the which consist¬
ed in jumping with one foot only, on bladders filled wit i
air or wine, and rubbed on the outside with oil. Ihedy-
podium was jumped with both feet close. The kybeslem
was what is called in this country the somerset. Of the
second kind were that called the wine-press, ot which
Da.;
DAN
there is a description in Longinus, and the Ionian dances.
These last, in the original of their institution, had nothing
but what was decent and modest; but, in time, their
movements came to be so depraved, as to be employed in
expressing nothing except voluptuousness, and even the
grossest obscenity. B
Amongst the ancients there were no festivals nor religi¬
ous assemblies but what were accompanied with songs and
dances. It was not held possible to celebrate any mys¬
tery or to be initiated, without the intervention ot these
two’arts. In short, they were looked upon as so essential
in these kinds of ceremonies, that to express the crime of
such as were guilty of revealing the sacred mysteries, they
employed the word kheistw, signifying to be out of the
dance The most ancient of these religious dances is the
Bacchic, which was not only consecrated to Bacchus, but
to all the deities whose festival was celebrated with a kind
of enthusiasm. The most grave and majestic was the hy-
porchematic, which was executed to the lyre, and accom¬
panied with the voice. On his return from Crete, The¬
seus instituted a dance, at which he himself assisted at
the head of a numerous and splendid band of youths, round
the altar of Apollo. The dance was composed of three
parts ; the strophe, antistrophe, and the stationary. In the
strophe, the movements were from the right to the left;
in the antistrophe, from the left to the right; and in the
stationary, they danced before the altar; so that the sta¬
tionary did not mean an absolute pause or rest, but only
a more slow or grave movement. Plutarch is persuaded
that in this dance there is a profound mystery. He thinks,
that by the strophe is indicated the motion ot toe world
from east to west; by the antistrophe, the motion of the
planets from the west to the east; and by the stationary,
the stability of the earth. To this dance iheseus gave
the name of geranos, or the crane, because the figures
which characterised it bore a resemblance to those de¬
scribed by cranes in their flight.
Stage-DANCES. The Greeks were the first who united
the dance to their tragedies and comedies ; not indeed as
making part of those spectacles, but merely as an accessary.
ThegRomans, as usual, copied from the Greeks ; but m
the reign of Augustus they left their instructors far be¬
hind them. At that time two very extraordinary men
made their appearance, who invented a new specie* «
entertainment, and carried it to an astonishing degiee o
perfection. Nothing was then t^ed of but the wonderf^
talents and amazing performances of Tylades a^d B^ >
lus who were the first to introduce among the Romans
what the French call the ballet daction, in which the per¬
former is both actor and dancer.
Pylades undertook the difficult task of reP'“™tl"«;
with the assistance of the dance alone, f
thetic situations. He succeeded perhaps beyond 1 s own
expectation, and may be called the father
dancing which is known to us by the name o 9
seriom pantomime. Bathylus, an Alexandnan, anda^fm
man of Idecenas, took upon htmself to represent such St®
iects as required a certain liveliness and agihty- rf
handsome in his person; and tl,e t"11’ Lie of
Roman follies, Persius, and especially Juvenal, spe
him as the gallant of every woman m B™*’ “te,
in his cynic style, even goes so far as ^ nameofa
Bathylus performed the dance called, a t
celebrated female dancer, ^romems-Leda the ff
matron was turned off her guard, and the you B
longed for the dancer s addresses. tw0 men.
Nature had been exceedingly partial to t ^ exte.
They were endowed with genius, and wit
rior accomplishments which could cap tabjjsh a last-
their study, application, and the desire to establish
Dar
i^V
I
DAN
ing reputation, they displayed to the greatest advantage
all the resources which the art of dancing could supply.
But, like two phenomena, they disappeared, and the world
did not look upon their like again. Government withdrew
its protection ; the art gradually sunk into obscurity, and,
on the accession of Trajan to the empire, became even en¬
tirely forgotten.
Thus buried with the other arts in entire oblivion, dan¬
cing remained uncultivated till about the fifteenth century,
when ballets were revived in Italy at a magnificent enter¬
tainment given by a nobleman of Lombardy at Tortona,
on account of the marriage between Galeas Duke of Mi¬
lan and Isabella of Aragon. Every resource that poetry,
music, dancing, and machinery could supply, was employed
and exhausted on the occasion. The description given of
so superb an entertainment excited the admiration of all
Europe, and roused the emulation of several men of ge¬
nius, who improved the hint by introducing amongst their
countrymen a kind of spectacle equally pleasing and novel.
It would seem, however, that at first the women had no
share in the public or theatrical dance ; at least we do not
find them mentioned in the various entertainments given
at the opera in Paris till the 21st of January 1681, when
the then dauphiness, the Princess of Conti, and some other
ladies of the first distinction in the court of Louis XIV.
performed a ballet in the opera called Le Triomphe de
lAmour. This union of the two sexes served to enliven
and render the spectacle more pleasing and more brilliant
than it ever had been at any other period; and it was
received with so much applause, that on the 16th of May
following, when the same opera was acted in Paris at the
theatre of the Palais Royal, it was thought indispensable
for the success of that kind of entertainment to introduce
female dancers. They have continued ever since to be
the principal support of the opera.
A ballet perfect in all its parts, says Noverre, in his
treatise on this subject, is a picture drawn from life, of
the manners, dresses, ceremonies, and customs of all na¬
tions. It must therefore be a complete pantomime, and
speak, as it were, through the eyes, to the very soul of the
spectator. If it wants expression, or if it be deficient in
point of situation and scenery, it degenerates into a spec¬
tacle equally flat and monotonous.
A ballet, in whatever style it may be conceived, should,
according to Aristotle, be composed, as well as poetry, of
two different parts, which he calls parts of quality and
parts of quantity. Nothing exists in nature without mat¬
ter, form, and figure ; the ballet therefore becomes a mere
nonentity if it be deficient in any of those essential parts
which mark and constitute the being of any one thing,
animate or inanimate. The matter here is the subject
intended for representation; its form consists in the in¬
genious distribution of the plan, and the various compo¬
nent parts constitute its figure. The form therefore con¬
tains the parts of quality, and the extent the parts of quan-
tity.
Thus it appears that ballets are in some degree subject
to the rules of poetical composition. They, nevertheless,
uiffer from tragedies and comedies, in that the former are
not subject to the three unities of time, place, and action.
Yet they require an unity of plot, in order that the vari¬
ous scenes may meet and terminate on the same point.
Hie ballet, therefore, may be termed the brother of the
drama, though not restrained to its stricter rules, which
only serve to cramp the imagination, check its flight, and
confine genius, and which, if adhered to, must set aside
nil thought of composition of ballets, by depriving them
ot their chief ornament, pleasing variety.
Noverre considers tragedy as the subject most suitable
lor the art of dancing. It abounds in noble incidents, situ-
DAN 615
ations, and character, and these produce the best stage Dance,
ettects. Besides, the passions are more forcibly expressed
by great chaiacters than by common men; the imitation is
ot course less difficult, and the action in the pantomime
more significant, natural, and intelligible.
The business of a skilful master,” he observes, il is to
foresee, as it were at one glance, the general effect that
i Gsult from the cind never give the prefer*
ence to one single part over the whole. The only way
for him to bestow his thoughts on the greatest number, is
to forget for a while the principal characters of the dra¬
ma ; if his whole attention should entirely be occupied
with the parts of his first dancers of both sexes, the ac¬
tion is suspended, the scenes are slow in their progress,
and the whole performance must fall short of its desired
effect.
“ In the tragedy of Merope by Voltaire, the principal
characters are Merope, Polifonte, Egiste, and Narbas.
But although the parts of the inferior actors are not of
equal importance, yet they all concur to the general ac¬
tion, and to the progression of the drama, which would
appear deficient in some parts should either of those cha¬
racters be wanting in the representation. No useless
personage should be obtruded on the stage. Every thing
therefore that may tend to weaken the effect of the drama
ought to be carefully avoided, and only that number of
actors introduced which is barely requisite for the execu¬
tion of the performance.
“ A ballet is a production of the same kind. It must
be divided into acts and scenes, each of which, as well as
the act itself, must have its beginning, its middle, and its
end; that is, in other words, exposition, plot, and denoue¬
ment.”
Noverre, in considering the knowledge necessary for
attaining perfection in the present art, observes, that my¬
thology, ancient poetry, and chronology, ought to be the
primary study of a ballet-master, who ought also to pos¬
sess a genius for poetry and painting, since the art bor¬
rows all its charms from a perfect imitation of nature. A
slight knowledge of geometry cannot but prove very ad¬
vantageous, as it will help the master to introduce his
figures in due proportion, to calculate exactly, and execute
with precision. By means of that unerring guide, he will
retrench every superfluous accessary, and thus enliven
the performance. Taste will introduce elegance, genius
create variety, and judgment direct the whole.
Country-DANCE, commonly so written, and hence seem¬
ing to imply a rustic way of dancing borrowed from coun¬
try people or peasants, is, however, merely a corruption
of the French Contre-danse, where a number of persons
placing themselves opposite one to another begin a figure.
Rope-Dancer (sc/umobates), a person who walks, leaps,
dances, and performs several other feats upon a small
rope or wire. The ancients had their rope-dancers as
well as we, and these had four several ways of exercising
their art: the first vaulted or turned round the rope like
a wheel round its axis, and there hung by the heels or
neck; the second flew or slid from above, resting on their
stomachs, with the arms and legs extended; the third
ran along a rope stretched in a right line, or up and down ;
and the fourth not only walked on the rope, but made
surprising leaps and turns thereon. They had likewise
the cremnobates or or abates; that is, people who walked
on the brinks of precipices. Nay more, Suetonius in his
life of Galba, Seneca in one of his Epistles, and Pliny in
his eighth book, make mention of elephants which were
taught to walk on the rope.
Dancing-Girls are employed all over the East, as af¬
fording great diversion at all public entertainments.
These dancing-girls, whether in a settled or unsettled
616
DAN
DAN
Dandar
condition, live in a band or community, under the direc-
II tion of some superannuated female of the same profession,
Dandini. un(]er whom they receive a regular education, and are
trained up in all the arts of love and pleasing, like scholars
in an academy. Thus they acquire the art of captivating
the affections of the other sex to such a degree, that no¬
thing is more common than for one of the princes or chief
people of the country to take a liking to one of these girls,
and waste immense sums on her, though at the same time
his own haram maybe stocked with beauties far superior,
and who are besides possessed of the natural modesty of
the sex, to which the others have not the smallest preten¬
sions. Thus some of these girls acquire immense wealth.
With regard to the performances of these women as
dancers, we have various accounts. I he author of a work
entitled Memoirs of the War in Asia, acquaints us, “ that
their attitudes as well as movements are not ungraceful.
Their persons are delicately formed, gaudily attired, and
highly perfumed. By the continuation of wanton atti¬
tudes, they acquire, as they grow warm in the dance, a
frantic lasciviousness themselves, and communicate, by a
natural contagion, the most voluptuous desires to the be¬
holders.” Mr Ives seems to have been more cool on this
subject. “ I could not,” says he, “ see any thing in their
performance worthy of notice. Their movements are
more like tumbling or showing postures than dancing.
Their dress is thin and light; and their hair, necks, ears,
arms, wrists, fingers, legs, feet, and even their toes, are
covered with rings of gold and silver, made after a clumsy
manner. They wear two rings in their noses; and, by
their staring looks and odd gesticulations, you would ra¬
ther suspect them to be mad women than morris-dancers*
The band of music that attends them is not less singular
in its way; it is chiefly composed of three or four men,
who hold two pieces of bell-metal in their hand, with
which they make an incessant noise ; another man beats
what he is pleased to call a drum ; and that they may not
want vocal music to complete the band, there are always
two others appointed to sing. These last generally lay in
their mouths a good loading of betel-nut before they begin,
which, after having been well chewed, tinges the saliva
with such a redness, that a stranger would judge them to
bleed at the mouth by too violent an exertion of their
voice. These gentry are called ticky-taw boys, from the
two words tichy taw, which they continually repeat, and
chant with great vehemence. The dancing-girls are some¬
times made use of in their religious ceremonies, as when
the priests bring forth the images of their gods into the
open fields on a car ornamented with lascivious figures,
these girls dance before the images amidst a great crowd
of people; and having been selected for their superior
beauty, are very profitable to their masters the priests,
who are said to prostitute them to all comers.”
DANDAR, a district of Hindustan, in the province of
Gujerat, situated about the twenty-fifth degree of north
latitude. It belongs to independent chiefs, and is little
known to Europeans.
DANDINI, Pietro, an eminent painter, was born at
Florence in 1646, and received his first instructions in the
art of painting from Valero Spada, who excelled in small
drawings with a pen. Whilst he was under the care of
that artist, he gave such evident proofs of a ready genius,
that he was then placed as a disciple with his uncle Vin-
cencio Dandini, a master of great reputation throughout
all Italy, who had been bred up under Pietro da Cortona.
He afterwards travelled through most of the cities of Italy,
studying the works of those who were most distinguished ;
and he resided for a long time at Venice, where he copied
the paintings of Titian, Tintoretto, and Paolo Veronese.
He next visited Parma and Modena, in order to design the
works of Correggio; omitting no opportunity which might Dan
contribute to improve his hand or his judgment. When he | ;
returned to Florence, the Grand Duke Cosmo III. the Grand bai
Duchess Victoria, and the Prince Ferdinand, kept him per- \
petually employed in fresco painting as well as in oil. His
subjects were taken not only from sacred and fabulous his¬
tory, but from his own invention and fancy, which frequent¬
ly furnished him with such as were odd and singular, and
especially with whimsical caricatures. He died in 1712.
DANEGELT, an annual tax imposed on the Anglo-
Saxons, for every hide of land throughout the realm, in
order to maintain such a number of forces as were thought
sufficient to clear the British seas of Danish pirates, who
heretofore had greatly annoyed our coasts.
Danegelt was first imposed as a standing yearly tax
on the whole nation under King Ethelred, A. d. 991. That
prince, says Camden, much distressed by the continued
invasions of the Danes, in order to procure a peace, wascom-
pelled to charge his people with heavy taxes called dane¬
gelt. Edward the Confessor remitted this tax, but William
I. and II. resumed it occasionally. In the reign of Henry I,
it was accounted among the king’s standing revenues; but
King Stephen, on his coronation-day, abrogated it forever.
No church or church-land paid a penny to the danegelt;
because, as is set forth in an ancient Saxon law, the peo¬
ple of England placed more confidence in the prayers of
the church than in any military defence they could make.
DANET, Peter, abbot of St Nicholas de Verdun, was
one of the persons chosen by the Duke of Montausier to
write on the classics for the use of the dauphin. He had
a share in Phaedrus, which he published with notes and
explanations in Latin. He also wrote a dictionary in Latin
and French, and another in French and Latin. He died
at Paris in 1709.
DANIEL, the fourth of the greater prophets, was born
in Judea, of the tribe of Judah, about the twenty-fifth
year of the reign of Josiah. He was led captive to Baby¬
lon, with other young Hebrew lords, after the taking of
Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar, who received them into his
service. That prince gave them masters to instruct them
in the language and science of the Chaldeans, and order¬
ed them to be fed with the most delicate viands; but
fearing lest they should eat meat forbidden by the law of
Moses, they desired the king’s officers to allow them only
pulse. The wisdom and conduct of Daniel having pleased
Nebuchadnezzar, that prince conferred on him several posts
of honour. It is commonly believed that this prophet, when
but twelve years of age, made known the innocence of the
chaste Susannah; but the learned are not agreed that
the young Daniel who confounded the old men was the
same with this prophet. However, he explained Nebu¬
chadnezzar’s dream of the mysterious statue, which fore¬
told the four great monarchies ; on which account he was
made prefect of the province of Babylon. In the reign of
Darius, the king of the Medes, he refused to adore the
golden statue of the king, and was cast into the lions den,
when those beasts, though pinched with hunger, did him
no manner of hurt; and he explained the characters
written on the wall of the room in which Belshazzar was
feasting. It is believed that Daniel died in Chaldea, and
that he did not take advantage of the permission granted
by Cyrus to the Jews to return to their ovyn country, ot
Epiphanius says he died at Babylon ; and in this he is Al¬
lowed by the generality of historians.
Daniel, Samuel, a respectable poet and historian, was
born near Taunton, in Somersetshire, in the year 1564 an
educated at Oxford ; but leaving that university withou
a degree, he applied himself to English history and poe y
under the patronage of the Earl of Pembroke s jami y
He was afterwards tutor to the Lady Anne Chttord; an ,
ft
DAN
)am
II
n'"
upon the death of Spenser, he was created poet-laureat to
Queen Elizabeth. In King James’s reign he was appoint¬
ed gentleman extraordinary, and afterwards one of the
grooms of the privy chamber to the queen consort, who
took great delight in his conversation and writings. He
died in October 1619. His works, which are numerous,
consist mostly of dramatic pieces and poems, the princi¬
pal of which are, 1. The Complaint of Rosalind, London,
1594, 4to ; 2. Sonnets ; 3. Tragedy of Cleopatra, London,
1598, 4to; 4. Of the Civil Wars between the Houses of
York and Lancaster; 5. The Vision of the Twelve God¬
desses, London, 1604, 8vo; 6. Epistles; 7. Musophilus,
containing a General Defence of Learning ; 8. Tragedy
of Philotas, London, 1611, 4to ; 9. First part of the His¬
tory of England, in three books, London, 1613, 4to; 10.
The Queen’s Arcadia, a pastoral tragi-comedy, London,
1605, 4to; and, 11. Funeral Poem on the death of the
Earl of Devon, London, 1623, 4to. The character of
Daniel’s genius seems to have been propriety rather than
elegance; his language is generally pure, and his reflec¬
tions just; but his thoughts are too abstract, and appeal
to the understanding rather than to the imagination or
the heart.
Daniel, Gabriel, an ingenious and learned French¬
man, was born at Rouen in 1649. He taught polite lite¬
rature, philosophy, and divinity among the Jesuits, and
was the superior of their house at Paris, where he died in
1728. There are a great number of his works published
in French, of which the principal are, 1. The History of
France, Paris, 1713, 3 vols. folio, of which he published,
in 1722, an edition, revised, corrected, augmented, and
enriched with several authentic medals, in 7 vols. 4to; 2.
Dialogue between Cleanderand Eudoxus, being an answer
to the Provincial Letters of Pascal; 3. A Defence of St
Augustin; 4. A Theological Tract on the Efficacy of
Grace, in 2 vols.; 5. Histoire de la Milice Franpoise, 2 vols.
4to. The best edition of his history is that of 1757, in 17
vols. 4to.
DANILOW, a circle in the Russian government of
Jaroslaw, to the north of the city of that name. It is
watered by the river Wolga. The population amounts to
64,540 persons, contained in one city and 765 villages,
distributed into fifty-four parishes, with an equal number
of churches. The capital is of the same name, and situ¬
ated on the river Pelenda, with a wmoden church, 357
houses, and 1250 inhabitants.
DANMONII, an ancient British nation, supposed to
have inhabited that tract of country which is now called
Cornwall and Devonshire, bounded on the south by the
British Ocean, on the west by St George’s Channel, on
the north by the Severn, and on the east by the country
of the Durotriges. Some other British tribes were also
seated within these limits, as the Cossini and Ostidamnii;
and, according to Mr Baxter, they were the keepers of
their flocks and herds. As the several tribes of the Dan-
monii submitted without much resistance to the Romans,
and never joined in any revolt against them, that people
were under no necessity of building many forts, or keep¬
ing many garrisons in their country. This is the reason
why so few Roman antiquities have been found in that
counfry, and so little mention is made of it and its ancient
inhabitants by Roman writers. Ptolemy names a few
places, both on the sea-coasts and in the inland parts of
this country, which were known to and frequented by
the Romans. The most considerable of these places are
the two famous promontories of Bolerium and Ocrinum,
now the Land’s End and the Lizard ; and the towns of
Isca Danmoniorum and Tamare, now Exeter and Saltash.
As the Danmonii submitted so tamely to the Romans, the
latter perhaps permitted them to live, for some time at
VOL. VII.
DAN
617
least, under their own princes and their own laws ; a pri¬
vilege which we know they granted to some other British
states. In the most perfect state of the Roman govern¬
ment in Britain, the country of the Danmonii formed part
of the province called Flavia Caesariensis, and was govern¬
ed by the president of that province. After the departure
of the Romans, kingly government was immediately reviv¬
ed among the Danmonii in the person of Yortigern, who
was perhaps descended from the race of their ancient
princes, as his name signifies in the British language a
chieftain, or the head of a family.
DANTE, Alighieri, one of the first poets of Italy, was
born at Florence in May 1265, being descended of an an¬
cient and honourable family. The name he received at
his birth was Durante, which was abbreviated into Dante,
in which form it has descended to posterity. Boccacio,
who lived at the same period, has left a very curious and
entertaining treatise on the life, studies, and manners
of this extraordinary poet, whom he regarded as his mas¬
ter, and for whose memory he cherished the highest vene¬
ration. This biographer relates, that Dante, before he
was nine years old, conceived a passion for the lady whom
he has immortalized in his singular poem. Her age was
nearly the same as his own, and her name was Beatrice,
the daughter of Folco Portinari, a noble citizen of Flo¬
rence. The passion of Dante, however, like that of his
successor Petrarch, seems to have been of the chaste and
Platonic kind, according to the account he has given of
it in one of his early productions in prose, entitled Vita
Nuova, in which he mentions both the origin of his affec¬
tion and the death of his mistress, who, according to Boc¬
cacio, died at the age of twenty-four. The same author
asserts that Dante, in consequence of this event, fell into
a deep melancholy, from which his friends endeavoured to
rouse him, by persuading him to marry. After some time
he followed their advice, and repented it; for he unfortu¬
nately made choice of a lady named Gemma, of the house
of Donati, who bore a considerable resemblance to Xan-
tippe; and the poet, not possessing the patience of So¬
crates, separated himself from her with such vehement
expressions of dislike, that he never afterwards admitted
her to his presence, though she had borne him several
children. In the early part of his life he acquired some
credit in a military character, having distinguished himself
by his bravery in an action where the Florentines obtained
a signal victory over the citizens of Arezzo. But he be¬
came still more eminent by the acquisition of civil ho¬
nours; and at the age of twenty-five he rose to be one of
the chief magistrates of Florence, when that dignity was
conferred by the suffrages of the people. From this exal¬
tation, however, the poet himself dated his principal mis¬
fortunes, as appears by the fragment of a letter quoted by
Leonardo Bruni, one of his early biographers, in which
Dante speaks of his political failure with that liberal frank¬
ness which integrity inspires. Italy was at that time dis¬
tracted by the contending factions of the Gibelines and
the Guelfs; and the latter, with whom Dante took an
active part, were again divided into the Blacks and the
Whites. Dante, as Gravina informs us, exerted all his
influence to unite these inferior parties; but his efforts
proved ineffectual, and he had the misfortune to be un¬
justly persecuted by those of his own faction. A power¬
ful citizen of Florence, named Corso Donati, had taken
measures to terminate these intestine broils, by intro¬
ducing Charles of Valois, brother of Philip the Fair, king
of France. But Dante, with great vehemence, opposed
this disgraceful project, and obtained the banishment of
Donati and his partizans. The exiles, however, applied to
the pope, Boniface VIII. and by his assistance succeeded
in their design. Charles of Valois entered Florence in
Dante.
618
DAN
Dante.
triumph, and those who had opposed his admission were
banished in their turn. Dante had been dispatched to
Rome as the ambassador of his party, and was upon his
return when he received intelligence of the revolution in
his native city. His enemies, availing themselves ot his
absence, had procured an iniquitous sentence against him,
bv which he was condemned to banishment, and ms po -
sessions were confiscated. His two enthusiastic biogra¬
phers, Boccacio and Manetti, express the warmest indig¬
nation against the injustice of his country. Dan e, o
receiving this intelligence, took refuge in Sienna, and af-
terwards in Arezzo, where many of hU party had as em-
bled. An attempt was then made to surprise the city o
Florence by a small army which Dante is supposed to
have attended; but the design miscarried, and the poet
is conjectured to have wandered throughout various par s
of Italy, until he found a patron m Gandella Seal a, prince
of Verona, whom he has celebrated in his poem. The ig
spirit of Dante was ill suited to courtly dependence, and
he is said to have lost the favour of Ins Veronese patron
by the rough frankness of his manner and bearing. From
Verona, according to Manetti, he retired to France; and
Boccacio affirms that he disputed in the theological
schools of Paris with great reputation Bayle questions
his visiting Paris at this period of his life, and thinks it
improbable, that a man who had been one of the clnet
magistrates of Florence should have condescended to en-
eao-e in the public disputations of the Parisian theologists.
But the spirit both of Dante and the times in which he
lived sufficiently accounts for this exercise of his talents;
and his residence in France at the period in question is
confirmed by Boccacio, in his life of the poet, which Bayle
seems to have had no opportunity of consulting.
The election of Henry count of Luxemburg to the
empire in November 1308, afforded Dante a prospect of
being restored to his native city, as he had attached himselt
to the interest of the new emperor, in whose service he is
supposed to have written his Latin treatise De Monarchia,
in which he asserted the rights of the empire against the
encroachments of the papacy. In the year 1311 he insti¬
gated Henry to lay siege to Florence, an enterprise in
which he did not appear in person, from motives of respect
towards his native city. But the emperor was repulsed by
the Florentines; and his death, which happened in the
following year, deprived Dante of all hopes of ever being
re-established in Florence. After this disappointment, he is
supposed to have passed some years in roving about Italy
in a state of poverty and distress, until he found an honour¬
able establishment at Ravenna, under the protection of
Guido Novello da Polenta, lord of that city, who received
the illustrious exile with the most endearing liberality,
continued to protect him during the few remaining years
of his life, and extended his munificence even to the ashes
of the poet. . . , ^ *
Eloquence was one of the many talents which Dante
possessed in an eminent degree. On this account he is
said to have been employed, in the course of his life, on
fourteen different embassies, and to have succeeded in
most of them. His patron Guido having occasion to try
his abilities in a service of this nature, dispatched him as
his ambassador to negociate a peace with the Venetians,
who were preparing for hostilities against Ravenna. But
Manetti asserts that he was unable to procure a public au¬
dience at Venice, and returned to Ravenna by land, from
apprehension of the Venetian fleet; when the fatigue of
his journey, and the mortification of having failed in his
attempt to preserve his generous patron from the impend¬
ing- danger, threw him into a fever, which terminated in
death on the 14th of September 1321. He died, however,
in the palace of his friend; and the generous Guido paid
DAN
the most tender regard to his memory. This munificent D{ ,
patron commanded the body to be adorned with poetical Wj
ornaments, and, after being carried on a bier through the
streets of Ravenna by the most illustrious citizens, to be
deposited in a marble sarcophagus. He himself pro¬
nounced the funeral oration, and expressed his design of
erecting a splendid monument in honour of the deceased;
a design which his subsequent misfortunes rendered him
unable to accomplish. At his request many epitaphs were
written on the poet, the best of which were by Giovanni
del Virgilio of Bologna, a celebrated author of that time,
and the intimate friend of Dante. Boccacio then cites a
few Latin verses, not worth transcribing, six of which are
quoted by Bayle, on the authority of Paul Jovius, as the
composition of Dante himself. In 1483 Bernardo Bembo,
the father of the celebrated cardinal, raised a handsome
monument over the neglected ashes of the bard.
Before this period the Florentines had vainly endea¬
voured to obtain from the city of Ravenna the bones of
their great poet. In the age of Leo X. they made a se¬
cond attempt, by a solemn application to the pope for that
purpose; and Michel Angelo, an enthusiastic admirer of
Dante, very liberally offered to execute a magnificent mo-
nument to the poet. But the hopes of the Florentines
were again disappointed. The particulars of their singu¬
lar petition may be found in the notes of Codivi s Life of
Michel Angelo.
At what time, and in what place, he executed the great
and singular work which has rendered him immortal, hisnu-
merous commentators have been unable to determine. Boc¬
cacio asserts that he began it in his thirty-fifth year, and
had finished seven cantos of his Inferno before his exile;
and that in the plunder of his house on that occasion the
beginning of his poem was fortunately preserved, but re¬
mained for some time neglected, till its merit being acci¬
dentally discovered by an intelligent poet named Dino, it
was sent to the Marquis Marcello Malespina, an Italian
nobleman, by whom Dante was then protected. The mar¬
quis restored these papers to the poet, and entreated him
to proceed with a work which opened in so promising a
manner. To this incident we are probably indebted for
the poem of Dante, which he must have continued under
all the disadvantages of an unfortunate and agitated life.
It does not appear at what time he completed it; perhaps
before he quitted Verona, as he dedicated the Paradise to
his Veronese patron. The critics have variously account¬
ed for his having called his poem Commedia. He gave it
the title, said one of his sons, because it opens with dis¬
tress and closes with felicity. The very high estimation
in which this production was held by his country appears
from a singular institution. The republic of Florence, in
the year 1373, assigned a public salary to a person ap¬
pointed to read lectures on the poem ot Dante, and Boc¬
cacio was the first person engaged in this office; but his
death happening about two years after his appointment, his
comments extended only to the seventeen first cantos
the Inferno. The critical dissertations which have been
written on Dante are almost as numerous as those to
which Homer himself has given birth; the Itahan, like t
Grecian bard, having been the subject of the highest pa¬
negyric and of the grossest invective.
The most ancient Italian commentary extant on the
Divina Commedia is that of Boccacio, which, however,
was not printed until 1724, at Naples. Spec“ °0f
other commentaries will be found in the firs
Muratori’s Antiquitates Italics. The first edition o
text without commentaries is that of 14/2, in fol ,
out the name of any place, but printed at Fo ign
the title of La Commedia di Dante Alighieri, delle Pe™
punizioni de Vizj, e prenj delle Virtu. The sam y
DAN
I* another appeared at Mantua, in folio, bearing the Latin
J title of Dantis Capitula, Italice ; but the most valuable of
all these editions is that of Naples, 1477, in folio, which is
now very scarce and high priced. The first of the old edi¬
tions with commentaries is that of Milan, 1478, in folio,
entitled Dantis Commlia cum Commentariis, by Martin
Paul Nidobeato de Navarre, printed, the text in beautiful
characters, and the commentaries in Gothic. This edition
is highly esteemed on account of the purity of the text,
and the excellent lessons which it affords. The principal
editions accompanied with commentaries are those of
Florence, 1481, folio; Venice, 1491, folio; Venice, 1554,
in4to; Lyons, 1547, in 16to; Venice, 1568, in 4to; Pa¬
dua, 1727, in 3 vols. 8vo; Venice, 1739, in 3 vols. 8vo;
Verona, 1749; and Venice, 1757, 1758, 3 vols. large 4to.
The most esteemed editions of the text alone since the
fifteenth century, are those of Venice, Aldus, 1502, in
8vo; Aldus and Andrea d’Assola, 1515, in 8vo; Florence,
Juntes, 1506, in 8vo; Florence, 1595, in 8vo, being the
Della-Cruscan edition, which was reprinted at Naples in
1716, in 12mo; Paris, Prault, 1768, in 2 vols. 12mo; Par¬
ma, Bodoni, 1796, in 3 vols. 4to; Pisa, 1804, in 3 vols. folio;
Milan, Mussi, 1809, in 3 vols. large atlas folio. The best
French translation of Dante’s works is that of Artaud, pub¬
lished at Paris in 1811, 1812, 1813. In English there are
two translations, both excellent, the one by Carey and the
other by Wright. The Inferno has given rise to a good
deal of speculation, of which some account will be found
in the Edinburgh Review, vol. Iv. The lyric productions
or Rime of Dante, though inferior to his great poem, are
not unworthy of him. They are to be found in the Ve¬
netian editions of his works, published by Pasquali in
1741 and byZatta in 1758. These two editions also con¬
tain the prose works of Dante, the most interesting of
which is his Vita Nuova. The Convivio di Dante is a
commentary in prose on three of his Canzoni. The trea¬
tise De Monarchia, written in Latin, had for its object to
support the rights of the Emperor Henry VII. by whose
means Dante hoped to be restored to his country in spite
of the pope, who had been the cause of his disgrace and
exile; and though the style is devoid of elegance, it ne¬
vertheless displays considerable vigour. In the treatise De
Vidgari Eloquentia, also written in Latin, Dante proposed
to examine the state of the Italian language about a cen¬
tury after its origin, to indicate the idioms formed nearly
at the same time in different parts of Italy, which ought
to prevail, and to point out the different species of com¬
position in which the language had been employed with
success, as well as the authors who had most distinguish¬
ed themselves by their writings in that language. The edi¬
tion of Zatta above mentioned also contains paraphrases
of the seven penitential psalms, of the Credo, the Pater
Noster, and the Ave Maria, pieces which have nothing in
common with his great poem, except the form of the verses
and the interlacement of the rhymes.
DANTON, George-Jacques, born at Arcis-sur-Aube
on the 28th October 1759, was, at the epoch of the revo¬
lution, advocate to the council of the king, and one of the
most terrible enemies of the authority to which a little be¬
fore he appeared to have attached his fortune. Nature
seems to have fitted this man for the part which he chose
for himself. In appearance, in figure, and in voice, he
might well have passed for an incarnate representative of
a malignant but mighty fiend. Of colossal stature and
extraordinary strength, with a countenance deeply marked
by the small-pox, a flat and wry nose, protruding lips, and
little sparkling eyes, he had an ardent and audacious look;
whilst his rude and powerful voice made the public halls
resound with its harsh thunder, and his diction, full of
gigantesque figures and violent apostrophes, terrified those
DAN
whom it failed to overpower. Mirabeau, who wanted per¬
sons of this description, in order to frighten the court and
produce the first shocks of the revolution, employed Dan-
ton, as a sort of forge-blast, to inflame the popular passions.
Ever since the year 1789, he had been the principal chief
of the Parisian populace, in fact a true fish-market king.
When the capital had been divided into districts, he was
chosen to preside over that of the Cordeliers; and this
portion of Paris immediately became the rendezvous of the
most furious revolutionists;—in its assemblies all authori¬
ties were attacked, and all principles perverted. But this
local anarchy did by no means satisfy the wishes of Dan-
ton. For, as the tribune of the district was accessible to
all the citizens, there occasionally appeared in it reasonable
men, who forcibly combated his extravagances; and hence,
in order to ensure the development of his system, he
required auxiliaries disposed rather to go beyond than to
fall short of his intentions. With this view he established
the club of the Cordeliers, compared to which, that of the
Jacobins was a collection of moderate and rational persons.
Hitherto the district had only attacked monarchical insti¬
tutions ; but the new club had for its object to subvert,
even to its foundations, the whole fabric of society. About
the same time Danton took under his protection the infa¬
mous Marat, whose journal corrupted the populace, and
stimulated them to the commission of every kind of ex¬
cess ; he withdrew that diseased miscreant from the agents
of the police, aftbrded him an asylum, and employed him
as often as he had occasion for any seditious movement, or
for spreading some denunciation necessary to his designs.
But it was not only in district assemblies nor in the clubs
that Danton domineered ; he was to be seen in the streets
and in the public places, in the midst of tumultuous as¬
semblages, haranguing the multitude, often with vehe¬
mence, and sometimes with gaiety. He had not, like
many others, declared for the revolution on speculative
grounds. His views were far less elevated. Devoted to
sensual indulgences, he belonged to that class of intriguers
who seek to bring on great civil commotions in order
thereby to arrive at fortune; and sometimes he made no
mystery of his intentions in this respect.
But it was not till the flight and return of Louis XVI.
from Varennes that he began to make himself generally
feared. On that occasion he put himself at the head of
the assemblage in the Champ-de-Mars, which demanded
the trial and punishment of the king. This first essay, how¬
ever, proved unsuccessful; Danton was ordered to be arrest¬
ed ; and being at the same time pursued for debt, he durst
not appear openly at the elections. But he had neverthe¬
less the audacity to go to canvass for votes; and when an
officer named Damien attempted to seize him, the poor
man was himself arrested for having violated the national
sovereignty. The populace, who watched over the safety
of their chiefs, wished to massacre the officer; and Danton
was named deputy attorney-general of the commune of
Paris, in the face of the laws, and even of the constituent
assembly itself, to which this nomination was a manifest
outrage. At length the constitutional advisers of Louis
XVI. seeing that they could not overpower Danton, or
rather that they durst not attempt it, resolved to purchase
him ; but the persons charged with the negociation having
estimated his services at too low a price, were consequently
treated with disdain ; he haughtily rejected their proposi¬
tions, and had the incredible audacity, in one of his dis¬
courses to the commune, to signify, that if the terms pro¬
posed had not been accepted, it was only because they
were below his pretensions. In order, however, to silence
some rumours which were circulated against him, he now
showed himself fiercer than ever against royalty, and con¬
tributed more than any other individual to the revolution
620
Dan ton.
D A N T O N.
of the tenth of August. The real republicans still confined
themselves to mere declamations; they were undecided
what course they should follow, and they dared not push
matters to extremities. It was Danton who struck the
decisive blow, after having prepared all the means neces¬
sary to render it effectual. Some days before the catas¬
trophe, Petion, major of Paris, had caused to be lodged in
the house of the Cordeliers, and recommended to its bene¬
volence, that horde of ruffians who, under the name of the
Marseillais, had traversed France, to the number of six
hundred, declaring openly, wherever they went, that they
were going to Paris to murder the king. Danton received
them,"entertained them, gave them the necessary instruc¬
tions, provided them with suitable auxiliaries, and ar¬
ranged with them the attack of the Tuillenes ; and it was,
in fact, by means of these vagabonds that the oldest and
most powerful monarchy of Europe was, at a moment of
weakness and terror, overthrown. ... c.
After this event, Danton was appointed minister of jus¬
tice by the legislative assembly, which had now lost all
authority, and decreed whatever he required of it. Even
Robespierre, afterwards so powerful, durst not as yet ven¬
ture to show himself; and Danton stood alone on the field
of battle, surrounded only by a small number of friends.
He began by causing the barriers to be shut, and decreeing
domiciliary visits in order to discover those who were
known to be attached to the party of the court. These
searches wTere made in the middle of the night, and a
crowd of persons, chiefly belonging to the most distin¬
guished classes, were hurried to prison, where a dreadful
fate awaited them. An extraordinary tribunal was insti¬
tuted, and the first victims were sent to the scaffold ; but,
formidable as were the men who composed it, this tribu¬
nal still proceeded too slowly for the taste of the popular
leaders, who required numerous executions, and proceed¬
ings more rapid and terrible. On the morning of the 2d
September 1792, intelligence arrived that the Prussians,
commanded by the Duke of Brunswick, and having with
them two brothers of the king, and a great number of emi¬
grants, had entered the territory of France and taken pos¬
session of Lorgwy and Verdun, ihis news threw the ca¬
pital into the most violent agitation. Danton immediately
repaired to the committee of the commune, and, having
convoked the committee of public safety, whose members
all belonged to the club of the Cordeliers, had a long con¬
ference with them. The prisoners were then deprived of
all instruments and moveables which might have been
used by them in their own defence ; whilst those detain¬
ed for debt, and some other persons who were fortunate
enough to interest the popular leaders, were released.
This being done, the terrible minister of justice proceed¬
ed to the bar of the national assembly, gave an account
of the progress of the enemy, and required that a general
arming should be instantly decreed, that the tocsin should
be sounded, and that all citizens able to bear arms should
be summoned to the Champ-de-Mars, to be there enroll¬
ed and formed into military cohorts, to march against the
tyrants and their satellites. The deputy Vergniaux, in a
vehement harangue, enumerated the menaces of the Duke
of Brunswick, and converted the demand of the minister
into a motion, which was unanimously agreed to.
But scarcely had this decree passed, when alarm and
terror spread all over the capital. At the lugubrious
sound of the tocsin, and the hollow roll of the generale,
the furious multitude shouted “ to arms,” insulting and
menacing all who did not participate in their frenzy;
whilst the emissaries of the clubs and of the committee of
the commune declared loudly, that before marching against
the enemy, it was necessary to exterminate the “ scelerats ’
of the interior, and particularly the prisoners seized in the
course of the domiciliary visits. These unhappy men, fore- Danti
seeing their fate, supplicated the individual charged with Oy!,
the superintendence of the prisons to save their lives ; and,
to his eternal honour, that person courageously undertook
to do his utmost in order to provide for their safety. He
repaired to the hotel where the ministers w^ere assembled,
and first addressed himself to Danton, giving an account
of the movements which were observed around the pri¬
sons, with the alarm of the prisoners, and representing to
the colossal terrorist that it particularly belonged to him,
as minister of justice, to afford them protection. Danton,
however, repulsed the application in language worthy of
a revolutionary Moloch. With a bellowing tone of voice,
and a gesture appropriated to the expression, he exclaim¬
ed, in words which we shall not translate, “ Je me f...
bien des prisonniers; qu’ils deviennent ce qui pouront;”
and went away grinning a diabolical smile at his own san¬
guinary brutality. It was equally by his orders or with his
approbation that the persons who had been sent to the
high court of Orleans were brought back to Versailles, and
there massacred. It was under his countersign that the
odious circular issued by the committee of the commune
of Paris was sent into the departments to invite the “ pa¬
triots” to repeat in the provinces the executions of Sep¬
tember in the capital. These dreadful massacres produ¬
ced the effect which their authors had expected from them.
Terror froze every heart. In the greater number of the
departments, as well as in Paris, the enemies of the royal
authority alone obtained suffrages at the elections; and
all public functions were performed by the most furious
of this class.
Danton quitted the ministry of justice in order to dis¬
charge the duties of a deputy to the convention, to which
he had been called by the electors of Paris, hoping to ex¬
ercise there the same ascendency as he had done over the
clubs and the people of the capital; but he carried along
with him a double source of discord and enmity, namely,
his crimes and his success. Although he was in fact the
real founder of the republic, yet the true republicans were
necessarily his adversaries. This class of revolutionists,
amongst whom wrere several who to fine talents united
elevated sentiments, did not choose that the republic,
which was the object of their wishes, should from its very
birth be attainted by crimes so horrible and so monstrous
as the executions of September; and they warmly de¬
manded the punishment of those who had committed them,
or had been accessary to their commission. On the other
hand, the dark jealousy of Robespierre observed with un¬
easiness that Danton divided with him the favour of the
populace, and possessed at least equal influence in the
convention ; and from this time accordingly he meditated
Danton’s destruction. . ,
Although at this time much more criminal than his rival,
Danton was nevertheless of a disposition less exclusively
wicked. He was one of those proud beings who, conceiv¬
ing themselves called to regulate the destinies of states,
think that all crimes become lawful actions, provided they
tend to ensure the success of grand designs; but he would
not have committed useless crimes, and it may be said of
him that he ceased to be criminal from the moment when
he had no longer any pretension to figure as a statesman.
Even at the first sitting of the convention, he wished to
re-establish order and to inspire confidence, by demand¬
ing that all property should be guaranteed by a solemn
decree. More tolerant than other persons who had not
to reproach themselves with the same excesses, he said
he was afraid of rendering liberty hateful by too rigorous
an application of what he was pleased to call “ philosophi¬
cal principles.” On several occasions he even took upon
himself the defence of religious worship; and it is no
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DAN
altogether improbable that this terrible man would have
\ become prudent and moderate, had he not been forced to
repel the attacks directed against his party. Roland, his
colleague in the ministry, hoping to render himself agree¬
able to the people by proving that he had not shared in
the peculations which had recently taken place, gave an
account of his conduct in office, and caused placards con¬
taining his official exposition to be affixed to the corners
of the streets. Danton, on the other hand, being unable
to parade so much honesty, pretended that the ministers
were only responsible as a whole, and could not render an
account except collectively. This doctrine prevailed, and
Roland fell under the axe of the guillotine.
Danton voted for the death of Louis XVI.; but it was
not apparently a judgment which he wished to pronounce.
In answer to one of the familiars who, in conversation, re¬
presented to him that the convention had done wrong in
putting the king on his trial, “ You are right,” said Dan¬
ton ; “ therefore we will not judge him, we’ll kill him.”
The new republic was already tormented with the most
violent discords, which, notwithstanding all his audacity,
occasioned Danton great uneasiness. He foresaw inevitable
catastrophes, and dreaded that he and his associates would
not be able much longer to command events. “ The metal
boils,” said he; “ but the statue of liberty is not yet cast.
If you do not watch the furnace, you wall be all burned.”
On his return from Belgium, whither he had been sent
with Lacroix to superintend the armies and revolutionize
the country, he was warmly accused of peculation, parti¬
cularly by Marat. He treated Marat with contempt, and
silenced his accusers; but he could never efface the im¬
pression which this denunciation had made. After the
check which the armies experienced at Aix-la-Chapelle,
Danton returned to Paris to give an account of the state
of things, and to prepare the necessary means of defence.
These were terror and levies en masse. In the clubs and
in the sectional assemblies, the cry to arms was continual¬
ly resounded; and to supply the place of the massacres of
September, which being too complete could not be renew¬
ed, Danton caused Chaumette, then one of his partisans,
to demand the formation of a revolutionary tribunal. To¬
wards the close of the struggle which terminated in the
events of the 31st May 1793, Danton hesitated what part
to take. The popularity of Robespierre disturbed him ;
but the declared determination of the moderate republi¬
cans to bring the authors of the massacres of September
to punishment did not occasion him less alarm. At the
moment of the crisis, M. de Meilhan, who belonged to the
latter party, endeavoured to draw him over by flattering
his pride. Danton listened to him with attention, looked
for an instant undecided, then, reflecting on the danger to
which he would expose himself, and the influence which
he would lose by a change of system, he merely replied,
with reference to the republicans, “ They have not confi¬
dence and entered the hall of the convention, where,
mingling with those who were rushing blindly^ into a new
revolution, he invoked without success the vengeance of
the laws against Henriot, who had outraged the conven¬
tion, and appeared to desire its dissolution. After the
31st of May, Danton demanded that the committee of
public safety should be erected into a provisional govern¬
ment; and, in order to prevent all suspicion, he refused to
become a member of that body.
Less verbose than Robespierre in his popular cajoleries,
Danton nevertheless sought to attach the multitude by
means which must have appeared to him much more ef¬
fectual. He attacked all the laws of the maximum, and
especially the tax on grain ; and as the sectional assemblies
of Paris had been deserted, terror having kept away some,
and the necessity of labour others, he caused a decree to
TON.
be passed, ordaining that each citizen who attended these
assemblies should receive an indemnity of forty sous. From
this time they were inundated by crowds of the lowest
populace, prepared to believe whatever was told them, and
to do whatever they were desired. One of their first acts
was to demand that Danton should be added to the com¬
mittee of public safety; and although he affected to re¬
fuse, he ended by consenting to form one of that body.
In the month of November 1793, he attacked the extra¬
vagant festivals of Reason, which the schismatic Corde¬
liers dared to celebrate, even in the very bosom of the
convention. “ When shall we cause these mummeries to
cease ? said he. “ We have not wished to destroy super¬
stition in order to establish atheism.” Robespierre joined
him in overthrowing a faction which threatened both alike ;
and soon afterwards the principal founders of the worship
of reason parted with their heads on the scaffold.
But this understanding could not be of long duration.
Robespierre was not one of those men who hate in vain.
Camille Desmoulins, the friend of Danton, had ventured
to compare the measures then pursued with those which
had been employed by Tiberius, and to exhibit proofs in
a pamphlet entitled Le Vieux Cordelier, wherein he pub¬
lished various passages from Tacitus, which certainly
went to show that a perfect similitude existed between
the decrees of the convention and those of the Roman
emperor. Robespierre rebuked him sharply, and aban¬
doned him to the vengeance of the chiefs of his party,
whom he had turned into ridicule. Danton took the part of
Desmoulins, and counselled him not to be alarmed at the
severity of the reproof administered by Robespierre, who
could no longer tolerate any opposition to his will. He also
wished to defend Fabre d'Eglantine, his intimate adviser,
who had been accused of malversation ; but he was unable
to save his brother peculator, and ought to have learned
by this check that he himself would soon be attacked. In
fact the struggle now commenced between these redoubted
rivals ; and those who dreaded the consequences attempted
to bring them together. They met at dinner* but parted
in greater alienation than ever. “ It is right,” said Dan¬
ton, addressing Robespierre, “ that the royalists should be
put down; but the innocent ought not to be confounded
with the guilty, and we should only strike when the blow
will be useful to the republic.” “ Eh ! who has told you,”
replied Robespierre, knitting his eye-brows fiercely, “ that
any innocent man has perished ?” “ I must show myself,”
said Danton, in retiring; “ there is not a moment to be
lost.” Nevertheless, instead of acting he hesitated. Wes-
termann, his principal agent, pressed him to strike, and
promised assistance. Danton merely answered, “ He dares
not.” But before braving him, Robespierre had taken his
measures, and the giant who had overturned the throne
was arrested in bed on the night of the 31st March 1794,
without offering the least resistance. Lacroix, his friend,
was arrested the same night, and both were conducted to
the Luxembourg. Danton, on entering, politely saluted the
numerous detenus who had crowded around in order to see
him. “ Gentlemen,” said he, “ I had hopes of soon bring¬
ing about your liberation; but here I am myself among
you; and I no longer know how all this will end.” Some
deputies wished to remonstrate against this arrest; but
Robespierre appeared in the tribune, and having indignant¬
ly asked who they were that dared to take the part of the
conspirator, and the immoral man with whose crimes the
people were about to be made acquainted, they all remained
silent. Danton and Lacroix were confined in separate
cells, but sufficiently near to be able to converse, and to be
overheard by the other detenus. Lacroix threw out some
reproaches against Danton, accusing him of indolence and
carelessness. “ It is this,” said he, “ which has ruined
DAN
Dantzick. us.” They then conversed gaily on the fate which awaited
2^ Zm, and"which they appeared to deride When brough
before the revolutionary tribunal, four days after their
arrest, they scarcely deigned to answer the interrogatories
put to them by the president, and during th® d,SCiVSS
they amused themselves with rolling pellets of bread, and
darting them at the noses of the judges and the jury. '
ton, whilst occupied in forming these missiles, merely ot>
served, “ Mon individu sera bientot dans le neant; ma
Zn nom est dejd dans la posterite.” The tribunal, terrified
at their audacity, consulted the committees of governrnent
on the subject, and the latter gave orders to put the pn
soners hors des debats, that is, to condemn them at once
without further hearing. This dec^ion threw Danton i t
an inexpressible rage, and he launched out into impreca
tions against those by whom he had been Fosc ^
was I,’’cried he on entering the chamber of the condem
ed “ it was I who caused this infamous tribunal to be in¬
stituted ; I ask pardon of God and man for having done so.
I leave every thing,” added he, “ in a frightful hodge¬
podge • no one understands any thing of government: be¬
sides they are all brothers of Cam; Brissot would have
caused ml to be guillotined as well as Robespierre. The
sight of the apparatus of punishment did not in the shg U-
est degree discompose him; he mounted the fatal cart
with unshaken firmness; his head was high, and his looks
full of pride ; and he seemed still to command the popu¬
lace. Nevertheless, before submitting himself to the exe¬
cutioner, he seemed for an instant to be softened, if not
overcome. “ Oh, my well-beloved! oh, my wife, cried he,
« I shall never see you more.’ Then rousing him abrup -
lv he shouted, “ Be thyself, Danton ; no weakness; after
Jhich he rapV ascended the scaffold, and said to the
executioner, “ You will show my head to the people , it is
worth the trouble.” He died on the 5th April 1794, at the
age of thirty-five. (Biographie Umverselle.) (A.;
DANTZICK, Dantzik, or Dantzig, one of the pio-
vincial governments of West Prussia. It is bounded by
Konigsberg on the east, by Marienwerder on the south,
by Koslin on the west, and by the Baltic on the north. It
extends over 3322 square miles, or 2,126,000 English
acres. It comprehends eleven cities, seven market-towns,
and 1856 villages and hamlets. J!16.1"h)Jb;ta"t1Sra™°Unt*(J
in the year 1817 to 237,323, and in
the first period the Protestants were 142,041, the Catho¬
lics 97,530, the Menonites 9122, and the remainder Jevys.
It is a level country, with rather a sandy soil; but near the
Vistula the soil is excellent, and produces abundant crops
of wheat, rye, barley, and oats. On the meadows many
oxen are fattened, and on the uplands numerous flocks ot
sheep are grazed. r ^
Dantzick, a city, the capital of the government of that
name in the province of W est Prussia. It was an inde¬
pendent city, one of the Hans Towns, in ancient tunes, but
under the protection of the kings of Poland. After the divi¬
sion of that country, Dantzick became subject to Prussia,
and was united to it in 1793. It is a fortified city, rendered
strong by its narrow front, covered by powerful batteries
on the rising grounds which extend across it, and by the
broad stream of the Vistula and its extensive marshes. It
has been twice taken during the late war, but both times
by famine rather than by the military assailants. Ihe city,
with its suburbs, contains 45,450 inhabitants, almost all
of whom are engaged in commerce. The chief trade is in
corn, which is brought down the Vistula from the Polish
and Prussian districts on both sides of the stream. It is
conveyed in open barges, landed near the city, and exposed
to the sun and air till it is perfectly dry, when it is stored
in vast magazines denominated speicher, till it is require
for distant markets. There is also a considerable trade
DAP
carried on in timber, which is also floated down from Po- ^
land. The city has been of long existence, and many of p
the houses exhibit the fashion of antiquity. There are Papin;
appropriate institutions for education, for the poor, and for
the sick. The manufactures are numerous, but all on
a small scale, and chiefly for the supply of the city and
its vicinity. The haven admits only vessels of small bur¬
den, or very flat bottoms. Long. 18. 33. 40. E. Lat. 54.
21. 5. N.
DANUBE, Upper, one of the circles of the kingdom of
Bavaria. It is composed of several portions, which have
been secularized or mediatized of late years, namely, of
the ecclesiastical states Augsburg, Kempten, and some
smaller territories, and of the temporal states Augsburg,
Lindau, Mindelheim, Schwabeck, of the lordships of the
Count Fuggar, of Truchses Waldburg and Rothenfels.
The whole, as it now exists, extends over 3770 square
miles, or 2,412,800 English acres. The entire circle is a
very mountainous country, being a prolongation of the
Rhaetian Alps, some of whose peaks are 9000 feet in
height; but there are exceptions in the northern part,
where the land is level and the soil fertile. The inhabi¬
tants are 438,146, and chiefly depend on agriculture. Ex¬
cept in the capital of the province, Augsburg, there is lit¬
tle trade, and only a few manufactures; but that city is
still rich and flourishing from both those sources of wealth.
Danube, Bower, one of the circles into which the king¬
dom of Bavaria is divided. It is composed of part of the
ancient dukedom of Bavaria, with the addition of the se¬
cularized principality of Passau and the county of Neu-
berg. It extends over 4340 square miles, or 2,i77,b00
English acres. The inhabitants amount to 355,546, in
twelve cities, forty-six market-towns, and 2048 villages,
besides hamlets and scattered farms. The river Danube
passes through the circle from west to east. On the south
side of that river the country is mountainous and sterile,
but on the north it is more level, better cultivated, and mo¬
derately productive of corn. It produces some wine, much
common fruit, and abundance of wood and potashes. As
the rivers Danube, Iser, and Inn are navigable, the sur¬
plus produce is mostly conveyed to the Austrian domi-
DAO, a small island in the Eastern Seas, near Timor.
The inhabitants are employed in working in gold, and pro¬
duce surprising specimens of their ingenuity.
DAOUD, a small town of Hindustan, in the province of
Malwah, belonging to the Mahrattas. Long. /4. 2b. E.
LaDAOUDCANDY, a small town of Hindustan, in the
province of Bengal and district of Tipperah, twenty-hve
E south-east from Dacca, from which place to Com, ah
there is a passage by water on the river Goompty in the
^DAOUDNAGUR, a town of Hindustan, in the Pr<J'
vince of Bahar, sixty-one miles south-west-by-south ot Ea -
na Long. 84. 27. E. Lat. 25. 6. N. ,
DAPHNE, a daughter of the river Peneus, by the god¬
dess Terra, of whom Apollo became enamoured,
passion had been raised^, Cupid, whh whom Apo
proud of his late conquest of the serpent Python, had d
puted the power of his darts. Daphne heard wdh horror
the addresses of the god, and endcavourc to cm ^
self from his importunities by flight. Apollo Pu[®aea ;
and Daphne, fearful of being caught, entreated the assi^
ance of the gods, who changed her into a laurel. Ap ^
crowned his head with the leaves of the la"eb a
ever ordered that that tree should ,be .sa^ Leucippus,
nity. Some say that Daphne was admired by L^c.pp ,
son of Oenomaus, king ot Pisa, who, to enjoy
disguised his sex, and attended her in the woods in the
D A R
BAR 623
ihoru
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rabji
'Y'1'
habit of a huntress. Leucippus gained Daphne’s esteem
and love; but Apollo, who was his powerful rival, disco¬
vered his sex, and Leucippus was killed by the compani¬
ons of Diana. Daphne was also the name of a daughter
of Tiresias, priestess in the temple of Delphi. She was
consecrated to the service of Apollo by the Epigoni, or,
according to others, by the goddess Tellus. She was call¬
ed Sibyl, on account of the wildness of her looks and ex¬
pressions when she delivered oracles. Her oracles were
o-enerally in verse; and Homer, according to some ac¬
counts, has introduced much of her poetry into his com-
I positions.
DAPHNEPHORIA, a festival in honour of Apollo, ce¬
lebrated every ninth year by the Boeotians. It was then
usual to adorn an olive bough with garlands of laurels and
other flowers, and to place on the top a brazen globe, on
which were suspended smaller ones. In the middle were
arranged a number of crowns, and a globe of inferior size,
while the bottom was adorned with a saffron-coloured gar¬
ment. The globe on the top represented the sun, or Apollo,
that in the middle was an emblem of the moon, and the
others indicated the stars. The crowns, which were sixty-
five in number, represented the sun’s annual revolution.
This bough was carried in solemn procession by a beauti¬
ful youth of an illustrious family, whose parents were both
living at the time of its celebration. The youth was
dressed in rich garments which reached to the ground,
his hair hung loose and dishevelled, his head was covered
with a golden crown, and he wore on his feet shoes called
Iphicratidce, from Iphicrates, an Athenian, who first in¬
vented them. He was called Aapvjjfogof, laurel-bearer, and
on that occasion he held the office of priest of Apollo. He
was preceded by one of his nearest relations, bearing a
rod adorned with garlands, and behind him followed a
train of virgins with branches in their hands. In this order
the procession advanced as far as the temple of Apollo,
surnamed Ismenius, where supplicatory hymns were sung
to the god. This festival owes its origin to the following
circumstance. When an oracle advised the iEtolians, who
inhabited Atne and the adjacent country, to abandon their
ancient possessions, and go in quest of a settlement, they
invaded the Theban territories, which at that time were
pillaged by an army of Pelasgians. As the celebration of
Apollo’s festival was near, both nations, who religiously
observed it, laid aside their hostilities, and, according to
custom, cut down laurel boughs from Mount Helicon, and
in the neighbourhood of the river Melas, and walked in
procession in honour of the divinity. The day on which
this solemnity was observed, Polematas, the general of the
Boeotian army, saw in a dream a youth who presented him
with a complete suit of armour, and commanded the Boeo¬
tians to offer solemn prayers to Apollo, and to walk in
procession with laurel boughs in their hands every ninth
year. Three days after his dream, the Boeotian general
made a sally, and cut off the greater part of the besiegers,
who were compelled by this blow to relinquish their enter-
; prise. Polematas immediately instituted a novennial fes¬
tival to the god, who seemed to be the patron of the Boeo¬
tians.
DAPIFER, the dignity or office of grand master of a
prince’s household. This title was given by the Emperor
of Constantinople to the Czar of Russia as a testimony of
favour. In France the analogous officer was instituted by
Charlemagne; and the dignity of dapifer still, we believe,
subsists in Germany.
DARABJIRB, or Darab-guierd, a town of Persia, in
the province of Kerman, situated on the banks of a river
which runs through an extensive plain, interspersed with
villages and cultivated lands. It is surrounded with groves
of orange and lemon trees, which yield fruit in such abun¬
dance that the juice is exported to all parts of Persia. Al- Darah
though a great part of the town is in ruins, it still contains ||
from 15,000 to 20,000 inhabitants. It was formerly a ce- Barda-
lebrated place, being founded about 400 years before the t ndles.
Christian era, according to the Persian historians, by King ”^ Y"'*”’
Darab, supposed to be the same as the Darius Nothus of
the Greek and Roman authors. It was unsuccessfully be¬
sieged in 1794 by Lootf Ali Khan. It is 150 miles north¬
east of Schiraz. Long. 54. 15. E. Lat. 29. N.
DARAH, or Dras, a river of Northern Africa, which
rises on the southern side of the great range of the Atlas,
and runs through the country of the same name. It is
now ascertained that this river, instead of falling into the
Atlantic, as was supposed, after pursuing a course of about
three hundred miles, divides into various branches, which
either form small lakes, or are absorbed in the thirsty
sands of the desert.
Darah, a country of Northern Africa, watered by the
river above described. It is bounded on the north and
west by the great Atlas, which divides it from Morocco,
on the east by Tafilet, and on the south by the great de¬
sert. The soil holds a middle place between the fertile
and well-irrigated plains skirting the sea, and the barren
sands of the Sahara. The chief product is dates, but cop¬
per, iron, and antimony are found in the mountains which
border it. The southern part of this territory, at Akka
and Tatta, forms the rendezvous of the great caravan
which proceeds from Morocco to Timbuctoo.
DARANAGUR, a town of Hindustan, in the province
of Delhi, situated on the east side of the Ganges, sixty-
eight miles north-east of Delhi. Long. 78. 4. E. Lat. 29.
16. N.
DARAPORAM, or Dharma-puram, a town of Hin¬
dustan, situated on the river Amarawati, in the province
of South Coimbetoor. It was formerly a larger place, but
declined greatly during the internal wars of the country
in the latter part of the last century. It was visited by
Dr Buchanan in 1800, when the plan of a new town had
been laid out, and the buildings were already advancing.
There is a large mud fort at this place, and in the vicinity
are two fine canals, which irrigate much rice land in a good
state of cultivation. The principal article cultivated is
tobacco, and a crop of grain is also procured afterwards
from the same ground. This place was taken from Tippoo
by the southern army in June 1783, but restored at the
peace of 1784.
DARAPTI, among logicians, one of the modes of syl¬
logisms of the third figure, the premises of which are uni¬
versal affirmatives, whilst the conclusion is a particular af¬
firmative : thus,
Every body is divisible ;
Every body is a substance ;
Therefore some substance is divisible.
DARDA, a fortified town of Hungary, in the circle of
the Farther Danube, on the banks of the river Moravitza,
and the capital of the district Baranya.
DARDANELLES, two old and strong castles on the
straits of Gallipoli, or the Hellespont, sometimes called
from them the Strait of the Dardanelles, between the Sea
of Marmora and the Grecian Archipelago. The one is si¬
tuated in Europe, and is called Sestos, or the Castle of
Romania; the other stands on the Asiatic side of the strait,
and is called Abydos, or the Castle of Natolia. There are
on each side fourteen great guns, adapted to discharge
balls of granite; they are made of brass, and have cham¬
bers like mortars, and their bore is from twenty-five to
twenty-eight inches in diameter. These castles are called
the Old Dardanelles, to distinguish them from two others
built at the entrance of the strait, about ten miles to the
624
D A R
Dardanus south-west, one of which stands also in Burope and ano-
|| ther in Asia. These are called the New Dardanelles.
Darfur. Long, of the old castles 26. 19. 30. E. Lat. 40. 9. 8. - •
v—DARDANUS, a son of Jupiter and Electra, who, alter
the death of his brother Jasion, left Samothrace, his native
country, and passed into Asia Minor where he marned
Batia, the daughter of Teucer, king of 1 eucria. After the
death of his father-in-law he ascended the throne, and
reigned sixty-two years. He built the city of ’
and was reckoned the founder of the kingdom of T y.
He was succeeded by Erichthonius. According t° some,
Corybas, his nephew, accompanied him ^ Teucr a, w ere
he introduced the worship of Cybele. Dardanus taug t
his subjects to worship Minerva, and he gave them t
statues of the goddess, one of which is wel known by
the name of Palladium. According to \ irgd, Dardanus
%»na Phrygian," who lived during the Trojan war,
in which he was engaged, and of which he wrote t^ his¬
tory in Greek. This history was extant m the age of iLhan,
bufthe Latin translation, which is all that is known of it,
is generally allowed to be spurious, though it is attributed
by some to Cornelius Nepos. This translation first made
its appearance in the year 1477, at Milan. Homer men¬
tions him in the Iliad. ,, , • i
DARFUR, or Darfoor, a considerable kingdom ot
Central Africa, occupying a large portion of the mterva
between Abyssinia and Bornou. Fur would appear to be
the proper name, Bar signifying, in the language of the
people, country in general; but the term Darfur is adopt¬
ed in compliance with established usage. 1 he boundaries
of this kingdom are not well defined. According to the
best authorities, it has on the east Kordofan and the coun¬
try of the Shilluks, which separate it from Sennaar and
Abyssinia; on the west Bergoo, which divides it from
Begherme and Bornou ; whilst the regions to the south are
occupied by barbarous nations, extending to and inhabit¬
ing the Mountains of the Moon, and the early course ot
the Bahr-el-Abiad. . ,
Darfur is destitute of any great river or lake; and ac¬
cordingly during the dry season the aspect of the country
is parched and sterile. The rainy season commences in
June, and continues till September. By means of the rain
the fields are clothed with luxuriant verdure, and the emp¬
ty ravines filled with water. This, of course, is the season
for sowing, at the commencement of which, the king,
with his attendants, goes out into the fields, and with his
own hand makes several holes in the ground tor the re¬
ception of the seed. The vegetable productions of Dar¬
fur are found chiefly to the south, where water is most
abundant. The ground is extensively covered with trees,
amongst which the tamarind, plane, and sycamore, are
found, but not in great abundance. The heglig and the
nebbek are two species peculiar to Darfur; their wood is
hard, and they are very thorny. There are also two small
trees or shrubs called the enneb and shair. . The othei
plants copiously produced are the mimosa nilotica, the gum
* r. i • r1 •   ^ TTmrrxf • wntpr mplnn. the
D A R
enduring thirst, but not for carrying burdens. Darfur has Bar
no good horses except those obtained from Dongola, and y
no good asses except those from Egypt. The sheep are
inferior to the Egyptian, and their wool is very coarse.
Goats, however, and horned cattle are numerous, and
their flesh is good. Very fine copper is brought from the
regions of the south; and gold is plentiful both to the
east and west, but it is conveyed to Northern Africa by
other channels. The rocks of Darfur consist chiefly of
grey granite. Various kinds of marble, alabaster, fossil
salt, and sulphur, are also found. Thermal springs are
said to be found in a mountain called Gebel Maria.
The national industry is chiefly occupied in agricultural
pursuits. Wheat is raised only in small quantities; the
principal grains are the doling which seems to be a species
of millet, and another of larger size called kassob. The
harvest is conducted by the women and slaves, who break
off the ears with their hands and carry them away in bas¬
kets ; whilst the straw is left standing to be employed in
building, and for other useful purposes. The grain, after
being thrashed, is buried in the earth, by which means it
is tolerably well preserved. The houses are constructed
in a very simple manner. The walls are built of clay,
sometimes embellished with a coating of plaster; and the
roofs are flat, and formed of light beams of wood, with a
covering of clay. The principal apartment is a cube of
about twenty feet by twelve, secured by a door cut with
the axe (for the saw and the plane are unknown), and
fastened by a padlock. Being thus secured to a certain
extent, it forms the repository of all property belonging
to the family. Another apartment, called kournac, some¬
what larger than the above, but of a slighter construc¬
tion, and destitute of a door, serves for sitting and sleep¬
ing in ; and a third, somewhat similar to the latter, is ap¬
propriated to the women.
A very precise estimate of the population can scarcely
be formed; it is supposed by the most recent travellers
not to exceed 200,000. Cobbe, the capital, has not more
than 6000 inhabitants. There are only eight other consi¬
derable places, the other collective residences being only
small villages. The inhabitants are a very mixed race.
The capital is wholly, and all the other towns in a great
measure, peopled by foreigners. These consist chiefly of
merchants, who come partly from Egypt, partly fiom the
eastern countries of Dongola, Sennaar, and Kordofan.
Many of the various tribes of Arabs which wander in
the surrounding deserts have also settled in the interior
of Darfur. ,
The government, like that of other Mahommedan coun¬
tries, is despotic. Beyond the Koran, which is inviolable,
the will of the king is unlimited. The Bukhara or eccle¬
siastics alone are entitled to remonstrate; but if these are
rejected, they have no means of enforcing them. A very
formidable power resides in the army, which consists ot
about two thousand men: no sovereign can with impu¬
nity act in opposition to that body. On the death o the
monarch, the crown constitutionally descends to the eld
son ; but if he happens to be a minor, or otherwise unable
of which is carried into Egypt; the water melon, the son ; our u ne ^“TsTiable tobe seized by
jmurd hemn Cayenne pepper, and tobacco; the latter ap- to enforce his claim, the place is naoie
Ss to be of native growth. The date tree is here small, any stronger or more popular ntember of the royal ta J
and of inferbr quality. The wild animals of Darfur are The revenue of the soverergn .s to.ved from
principally the lion, the leopard, the hyena, the wolf, the
jackall, canis aureus^ and the wild buffalo; these, how¬
ever, are chiefly confined to the uncultivated parts of the
country, except the jackall and hyena, herds of which
enter the villages at night and tear to pieces whatever property oi ine vnmge m merchants,
*ey meet. To these may be added the elephant the sents rece.ved h^bme oTthe bor-
rhinoceros, the Camelopardalis, the hippopotamus, and the and all descnp oos o i ersons 1 b ^
crocodile. Camels of all forms and sizes are here exceed- dering Arab tribes, which ^ patd in ca j ore
ingly abundant. They are remarkable for their power of regularly or .rregularly, as they consider themselve
The revenue ot tne sovereign is uenv™ -
sources; from a duty on all merchandise imported,amou
ing in most instances to about a tenth; fines o
meanours, which go all to the royal purse, an ,.
is added, in case of murder, a certain proportio
property of the village in which it wa* pelted,
BAR
or less under his power. It is sometimes necessary to
U exact this tribute by force of arms. Lastly, the king is
an extensive merchant, exporting and importing every
year a large quantity of goods, for which he has means of
procuring a market, which do not fall to the lot of private
individuals.
The troops of Darfur, although capable of enduring
thirst, hunger, and fatigue to an almost preternatural ex¬
tent, are not distinguished either for valour or discipline.
The Arabs, who possess in the highest perfection this
power of endurance, compose a considerable proportion
of the army, though they serve in this capacity rather as
tributaries than as subjects. The religion of Mahommed
is universally professed; but the people are neither so
recluse nor so austere in their manners as they are in
Egypt and the East. In their dispositions they are cheer¬
ful; and the females are not immured, nor, unless among
the great, are their faces even concealed by a veil. Not¬
withstanding the law of the prophet, a fermented liquor is
used by persons of both sexes, and sometimes to a great
extent. In the intercourse of the sexes, their manners are
extremely loose. Polygamy has no bounds. The sultan
in particular has always an amply-furnished seraglio. The
closest ties of kindred are often considered as no bar to the
matrimonial alliance. Rigorous fidelity is neither exacted
nor observed. Indeed, where any advantage is to be
gained, the husband frequently winks at the intrigues of
the wife. The vices of thieving, lying, and cheating, pre¬
vail almost universally.
In their persons the Darfurians differ from the negroes
on the coast of Guinea, though their complexion is black,
and their hair generally short and woolly. They are not
remarkable for their personal cleanliness; and ablution is
not performed with the usual care of Mahommedans. The
Arabs, who are numerous, retain their distinction of fea¬
ture, colour, and language. The person of highest rank
is the faqui, which signifies at once learned man and
priest. Some of these are educated at Cairo, but the
greater number in native schools. They are ignorant of
every thing but the Koran.
The only commerce of Darfur is inland ; but this is ex¬
tensive, and merchants are the most opulent and import¬
ant persons in the country. The chief intercourse is with
Egypt, and it is carried on entirely by the African system
of caravans. These are very uncertain in thqjr journeys,
two or three years sometimes elapsing without one taking
place. They are exposed to great dangers from the at¬
tacks of some wild Arab tribes, and to great inconveni¬
ences from being badly furnished with the necessaries of
life. Among the articles sent into Egypt, the most im¬
portant are slaves taken in the negro countries towards
the south, camels, ivory, the horns, teeth, and hides of the
i rhinoceros and hippopotamus, ostrich feathers, gum, pi¬
mento, parroquets in abundance, and a small quantity of
white copper. The imports are extremely various, com¬
prising beads of all sorts, toys, glass, arms, light cloths of
different kinds, chiefly made in Egypt, with some of
French manufacture, red Barbary caps, small carpets,
wrought and unwrought silks, shoes, and a considerable
quantity of writing paper. Commerce is carried on en¬
tirely by barter, which greatly increases the difficulty of
conducting it. The intercourse with Mecca is consider¬
able ; in this the objects of trade and religion are com¬
bined.
DARIC^ in Antiquity, a piece of gold, first coined by
Darius the Mede about 538 years before Christ, probably
during his stay at Babylon, out of the vast quantity of gold
which had been accumulated in the treasury of that capi¬
tal. The daric was thence dispersed over the East, and
also in Greece; so that the Persian daric, which was also
VOL. VII.
BAR
called stater, was the gold coin best known in Athens in
ancient times. According to Dr Bernard, it weighed two
grains more than one of our guineas; but as it was very
fine, and contained little alloy, it may be reckoned as
worth about twenty-five shillings of cur money. Plutarch
infoims us that the darics were stamped on one side with
an archer clothed in a long robe, and crowned with a spiked
crown, holding a bow in his left hand and an arrow in his
right; and that on the other side they bore the effigies of
Daiius. All the other pieces of gold of the same weight
and value which were coined by the succeeding kings,
both of the Persian and Macedonian race, were also called
darics. Of these there w^ere whole darics and half darics ;
and in those parts of Scripture written after the Baby¬
lonish captivity they are called adarkonim, and by the
Talmudists darkonoth. Greaves says that the daric is still
found in Persia, but it is certainly very scarce, and per¬
haps of doubtful antiquity.
DARIEN, a province of South America, in the vice-
royalty of New Grenada, bounded on the north-west by
Panama, on the north-east by the Gulf of Darien, on the
east by the province of Carthagena, on the south by Choco,
and on the west by the Pacific Ocean. The country is for
the most part mountainous and rugged, but there are inter¬
spersed plains which are very fertile, though deserted
and uncultivated, and producing only a small quantity of
cacao or tobacco. It is watered by a number of rivers, the
streams of which wash down gold from the mountains.
This province was the first place in Terra Firma where the
Spaniards established themselves; but most of the settle¬
ments have since been abandoned, owing as much to the
savage character of the natives as to the moist and un¬
healthy nature of the climate.
Darien, a great gulf on the coast of Darien. It mea¬
sures twenty-six leagues from north to south, and nine
from east to west. Several rivers flow into it, the largest
of which is the Atrato. The coast is full of sharp and in¬
accessible shoals, and only towards the west and south are
there places fit for disembarking. The limits of the gulf
are sometimes extended to the sea which washes the shores
of the provinces of Panama and Darien.
Darien, Isthmus of, a neck of land which unites North
and South America, composed of the provinces of Panama
and Veragua, belonging to the republic of Colombia. It
sweeps in the form of a crescent about the great Bay of
Panama on the south, and has the Gulf of Mexico on
the north. It is about 300 miles long, and generally about
sixty wide, but where narrowest, between the ports of
Porto Bello and Panama, only thirty-seven. This part is
sometimes called the Isthmus of Panama. The country
here is made up of sickly valleys and stupendous moun¬
tains, which seem to be placed as eternal barriers between
the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, which can be distinctly
seen at the same time from the summits. These moun¬
tains render it impracticable to cut a canal here, but by
going to latitude 12° N. and joining the head of the lake
Nicaragua to a small river which runs into the Pacific
Ocean, and forming a canal thirty miles long, through a
low level country, a communication might be formed be¬
tween the two seas.
Darien, Scottish Colony of. Of the rise, progress, and
catastrophe of this ill-fated undertaking, Sir John Dal-
rymple, in the second volume of his Memoirs of Great
Britain and Ireland, has given a very interesting account,
authenticated in every particular by unquestionable docu¬
ments. The projector and leader of the Darien expedition
was a clergyman of the name of Paterson, who having a
strong desire to see foreign countries, made his profession
the means of indulging it, by going to the new western
world on the pretence of converting the Indians to the
4 K
625
'Darien.
626
DARIEN.
Darien.
relio-ion of the old. During his residence there he became
acquainted with Captain Dan,pier and Mr Wafer, who
afterwards published, the one his voyages, and the other
his travels in the region where the separation is l|a|nl'
between the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans; and both of
whom appear to have been men of consu emble observ
tion But he obtained much more knowledge from men
who couM neither read nor write, by cultivating the ac
quaintance of some of the old buccaneers who after s
tJivino- their dories and their crimes, still, in tne exirei ^
Tale and misfortune, recounted with transport the ease
with which they had passed and repassed from the one^s
to the other, sometimes ,n hundreds together, and dr,v g
Suti ^as^-'S'XSS «t
onTofTem^s^aufdthe the
seas the e were filled with turtle and the manatee or sea
tthat midway between Porto^lo ard C^rthag^
buT nearly "fifty Teagues distant from either, at a place
called Ida, in the mouth of the Darien, there was a natu¬
ral harbour, capable of receiving the greatest fleets, and
defended from storms by other islands which covered the
mouth of it, and from enemies by a promontory whic i
commanded the passage, and by hidden rocks m the pas¬
sage itself; that on the other side of the isthmus, and m
tlm same tract of country, there were natural harbours,
eouallv capacious and well defended; that the two oceans
were connected by a ridge of hills, which by them height
created a temperate climate in the midst of the most ssul
try latitudes, and were sheltered by forests, but not len-
dm-ed damp, because the trees grew at a distance fiom
each other, and had very little underwood; that, contrary
to the usual barren nature of hilly countries, the soil was
of a black mould two or three feet deep, and producing
spontaneously the fine tropical fruits and plants, roots and
herbs- that roads might be formed with ease along the
id-ce/by which mules, and even carriages, might pass from
the on/sea to the other in the space of a day, and con¬
sequently that this passage seemed to be pointed out by
nature, as a common centre to connect together the tiade
and intercourse of the universe. , i-
Paterson knew that ships which stretch in a straight line
from one point to another, and with one wind, run less
risks and require fewer hands, than ships which pass
through many latftudes, follow the windings of many coasts,
and require many winds; that vessels of seven or eight
hundred tons burden are often to be met in the bout
Sea, navigated by not more than eight or ten hands, be¬
cause these hands have little else to do than set their
sails when they begin their voyage, and to take them m
when they end it; that as soon as ships from Britain
should get so far south as to reach the trade-wind, which
seldom varies, that wind would carry them to Darien, and
the same wind would carry ships from the Bay of Panama,
on the opposite side of the isthmus, to the East Indies,
that as soon as ships coming from the EasUndiestothe
Bay of Panama got so far north as the latitude of 40 , to
reach the westerly winds, which about that latitude blow
almost as regularly from the west as the trade-winds do
from the east, these winds would carry them, in the trac
of the Spanish Acapulco ships, to the coast of i lexico,
whence the land-wind, which blows for ever from the
north to the south, would carry them along the coast of
Mexico into the Bay of Panama. Thus, in going from bar
Britain, ships would encounter no uncertain winds, ex-^y,
cept during their passage south into the latitude of the
trade-wind; and in coming from India to the Bay of Pa-
nama they would meet no uncertain winds, except in
their passage north to the latitude of the westerly winds,
and in going from the other side of the isthmus to the
east, with no uncertain wind whatsoever. Gold was seen
by Paterson in some places of the isthmus; and hence
an island on the Atlantic side was called the Gold island,
and a river on the side running to the Pacific was called
the Golden river; but these were objects which he re¬
garded not at that time, because far greater were in his
eye, namely, the shortening of distances, the drawing of
nations nearer to each other, the preservation of the valu¬
able lives of seamen, and the saving in freight, and in time,
so important to merchants, and to an animal whose life is
of so short duration as that of man.
By this obscure Scotchman a project was formed to set¬
tle, on this neglected spot, a great and powerful colony;
not as other colonies have for the most pait been settled,
by chance, and unprotected by the country whence they
proceeded ; but by system, upon foresight, and to receive
the ample protection of those governments to whom he was
to offer his project. And certainly no greater idea has
been formed since the time of Columbus.
Paterson’s original intention was to submit his project to
England, as the country which had most interest in it, not
only from the benefit common to all nations, of shortening
the length of voyages to the East Indies, but by the effect
which it would "have had in connecting the interests of
her European, West Indian, American, African, and East
Indian trade. Paterson, however, having few acquaint¬
ances and no protection in London, thought of drawing
the public eye upon him, and ingratiating himself with
moneyed men and with great men, by assisting them to
model a project, which was at that time in embryo, for
erecting the Bank of England. But that happened to him
which has happened to many projectors in his situation;
the persons to whom he applied made use of his ideas,
took the credit of them to themselves, were civi to him
for a while, and neglected him afterwards. He therefore
communicated his project of a colony only *p a few Per'
sons in London, and these few discouraged him.
He next submitted his project to the Dutch, the Ham¬
burgers, and the elector of Brandenburg; because, by
means of the passage of the Bhine and Elbe through
their states, he thought that the great additional quanti¬
ties of East Indian and American goods which his colon)
would export to Europe would be distributed throughou
Germany. The Dutch and Hamburg merchants, although
they had most interest in the project, heard him with
indffference ; while the elector, who had very httle mteres
in it, received him with honour and kindness; but cou
arts and false reports soon lost him even that p
^Paterson, on his return to London, formed a friendship
with Mr Fletcher of Saltoun, whose mind was inflame
with the love of public good, and all whose 10 Pro¬
cure it had a sublimity about them. Fletcher broug
Paterson down to Scotland, presented him to the Ma q
of Tweeddale, then minister for that country; and tore
after with that power which a vehement spirit }
possesses over a diffident one, persuaded 116 ^ ^
arguments of public good, and the honour which ^
redound to his administration, to adopt the p j
Stair and Mr Johnston, the two, secretaries of state, ?
tronised those abilities in Paterson »h>* ePXart
in themselves; and the lord advocate, Sir Jame »t
the same person who had adjusted the Princ
DARIEN.
627
\ a niece of Lord Stair, went naturally along with his con- by so solemn an act of parliament.” But the merchants, v
nections. These persons, in June 1695, procured a statute seeing the scheme discouraged by their governments,
from parliament, and afterwards a charter from the crown were soon intimidated ; and the Dutch, Hamburg, and
in terms thereof, for creating a trading company to Africa London merchants withdrew their subscriptions,
and the new world, with power to plant colonies and build The Scotch, not discouraged, were rather animated by
forts, by consent of the inhabitants, in places not pos- this oppression; for they converted it into a proof of the
sessed by other European nations. envy of the English, and of their consciousness of the
Paterson now finding the ground firm under him, and great advantages which were to flow to Scotland from the
that he was supported by almost all the power and talents colony. The company proceeded to build six ships in
of his country, the character of Fletcher, and the sanction Holland, from thirty-six to sixty guns, and they engaged
of an act of parliament and royal charter, threw his pro- 1200 men for the colony; amongst whom were younger
ject boldly before the public, and opened a subscription sons of many of the noble and ancient families of Scot-
for a company. The frenzy of the Scotch nation to sign land, and sixty officers who had been disbanded at the
the solemn league and covenant never exceeded the rapi- peace, who carried with them such of their private men,
dity with which they ran to subscribe to the Darien com- generally raised on their own or the estates of their rela-
pany. The nobility, the gentry, the merchants, the peo- tions, as they knew to be faithful and brave, most of them
pie, the royal burghs without the exception of one, and being Highlanders. The Scotch parliament, on the 5th
most of the other public bodies, subscribed. Young wo- August 1698, unanimously addressed the king to support
men threw their little fortunes into the stock ; and widows the company. The lord president Sir Hugh Dalrymple,
sold their jointures to get the command of'money for the brother ofLord Stair, and head of the bench, and the lord
same purpose. Almost immediately L. 400,000 were sub- advocate Sir James Stuart, head of the bar, jointly drew up
scribed in Scotland, although there was not at that time memorials to the king, able in point of argument, informa-
above L.800,000 of cash in the kingdom. The famous tion, and arrangement, in which they defended the rights
Mr Law, then a youth, afterwards confessed that the faci- of the company upon the principles of constitutional and
lity with which he saw the passion of speculation commu- of public law ; and neighbouring nations, with a mixture
nicate itself, satisfied him of the possibility of producing of surprise and respect, saw the poorest kingdom of Eu-
the same effect by means of the same cause, but upon a rope sending forth the most gallant and the most numerous
larger scale, when the Duke of Orleans engaged him colony which had ever set out from the old to the new
against his will to turn his bank into a bubble. Paterson’s world.
project, which had been received by strangers with fears On the 26th day of July 1698, the whole city of Edin-
when opened to them in private, filled them with hopes burgh poured down to Leith to see the colony depart,
when it came to them upon the wings of public fame ; for amidst the tears, and prayers, and praises of relations, and
Colonel Erskine, son of Lord Cardross, and Mr Haldane of friends, and countrymen. Many seamen and soldiers, whose
Gleneagles, the one a generous branch of a generous stem, services had been refused, because more had offered them-
and the other a country gentleman of fortune and cha- selves than were needed, were found hid in the ships, and,
racter, having been deputed to receive subscriptions in when ordered ashore, clung to the ropes and timbers,
England and on the Continent, the English subscribed imploring to go without reward along with their compa-
L. 300,000, and the Dutch and Hamburgers L.200,000 nions. Twelve hundred men sailed in five stout ships,
more. and arrived at Darien in two months, with the loss of only
In the mean time the jealousy of trade, which has done fifteen of their people. At that time it was in their power,
more mischief to the commerce of England than all other most of them being well born, and all of them hardily
causes put together, created an alarm in England ; and bred and inured to the fatigues and dangers of the late
the Houses of Lords and Commons, without previous in- war, to have marched from the northmost part of Mexico
quiry or reflection, on the I3th of December 1695, con- to the southmost point of Chili, and to have overturned
curred in a joint address to the king against the establish- the whole empire of Spain in South America. But modest
ment of the Darien company, as detrimental to the interest respecting their own and their country’s character, and
of the East India Company'. Soon afterwards the Com- afraid of its being alleged that they had plunder, and not
mons impeached some of their own countrymen for being a settlement, in view, they began with purchasing lands
instrumental in erecting the company, and also some of the from the natives, and sending messages ot amity to the
Scotch nation, one of whom was Lord Belhaven ; that is to Spanish governors within their reach ; and then fixed their
say, they arraigned the subjects of another country for mak- station at Acta, calling it New St Andrew, from the name
' ing use of their own laws. Among six hundred legislators, of the tutelar saint of Scotland, and the country itselt New
notone had the sense, not to say genius, to propose a com- Caledonia. One of the sides of the harbour being formed
mittee of both parliaments to inquire into the principles by a long narrow neck of land which ran into the sea, they
and consequences of the establishment; and if these should, cut it across so as to join the ocean and the harbour,
upon inquiry, be found sound and beneficial, that the Within this defence they erected their fort, planting upon
advantage should be communicated, by a participation of it fifty pieces of cannon. On the other side of the harbour
rights, to both nations. The king’s answer was, that he there was a mountain about a mile in height, on which
had been ill advised in Scotland. He soon afterwards they placed a watch-house, which, in the rarefied air
changed his Scottish ministers, and sent orders to his within the tropics, so favourable for vision, gave them an
resident at Hamburg to present a memorial to the senate, immense range of prospect, in order to prevent all sur-
in which he disowned the company, and warned them prise. To this place it was observed that the Highland-
against all connections with it. The senate transmitted ers often repaired to enjoy the cool air, and to talk of
the memorial to the assembly of merchants, who re- their friends whom they had left behind on their native
turned it with the following spirited answer: “ We look hills. The first public act of the colony was to publish a
upon it as a very strange thing, that the king of Britain declaration of freedom of trade and religion to all nations,
should offer to hinder us, who are a free people, to trade This luminous idea originated with Paterson,
with whom we please ; but are amazed to think that he But the Dutch East India Company having pressed the
would hinder us from joining with his own subjects in Scot- king, in concurrence with his English subjects, to prevent
628
DARIEN.
Darien, the settlement at Darien, orders had been sent from Eng¬
land to the governors of the West Indian and American
colonies, to issue proclamations against giving assistance,
or even holding correspondence with the colony ; and these
were more or less harshly expressed, according to the
temper of the different governors. The Scotch, trusting
to far different treatment, and to the supplies which they
expected from these colonies, had not brought sumcient
provisions along with them, and fell into diseases from bad
or inadequate food; but the more generous savages, by
hunting and fishing for them, afforded them that relief
which fellow Britons had refused. They lingered eight
months, waiting in vain for assistance from Scotland, ant
almost all of them either died out or quitted the settle¬
ment. Paterson, who had been the first to enter the ship
at Leith, was the last to go on board at Darien.
During the space of two years, while the establishment
of his colony had been in agitation, Spain had made no
complaint to England or Scotland against it. The Darien
council even averred in their papers, which are in He
Advocates’ Library, that the right of the company was
debated before the king, in presence of the Spanish am¬
bassador, ere the colony left Scotland. But now, on the
3d of May 1698, the Spanish ambassador at London pre¬
sented a memorial to the king, in which he complained of
the settlement at Darien as an encroachment on the rights
of his master. . .
The Scotch, ignorant of the misfortunes of their colony,
but provoked at this memorial, soon afterwards sent out
another colony of 1300 men, to support an establishment
which was now no more; but this last expedition having
been more hastily prepared than the first, proved unlucky
in its passage. One of the vessels was lost at sea, many
men died on board, and the rest arrived at different times,
broken in their health, and dispirited when they heard the
fate of those who had gone before them. Added to the
misfortunes of the first colony, the second had a misfor¬
tune peculiar to itself. The General Assembly of the Church
of Scotland sent out four ministers, with orders to take
charge of the souls of the colony, and to erect a pi esby-
tery, with a moderator, clerk, and record of proceedings ;
to appoint ruling elders, deacons, overseers of the manners
of the people, and assistants in the exercise of church dis¬
cipline and government, and to hold regular kirk-sessions.
When they arrived, the officers and gentlemen were occu¬
pied in building houses for themselves with their own hands,
because there was no assistance to be got from others;
yet the four ministers complained grievously that the
council did not order houses to be immediately built for
their accommodation. They had not had the piecaution
to bring with them letters of recommendation from the
directors at home to the council abroad ; and on these ac¬
counts, not meeting with all the attention they expected
from the higher, they paid court to the inferior ranks of
the colonists, and by this means sowed divisions in the
colony. They exhausted the spirits of the people, by re¬
quiring their attendance at sermon four or five hours at a
time, relieving each other by preaching alternately, but al¬
lowing no relief whatever to their hearers. The employ¬
ment of one of the days set aside for religious exercise,
which was Wednesday, they divided into three paits;
thanksgiving, humiliation, and supplication, in which thiee
ministers followed one another. And as the service of
the church of Scotland consists of a lecture with a com¬
ment, a sermon, two prayers, three psalms, and a blessing,
the work of the day, upon an average of the length of the
service in that age, could not occupy less than twelve
hours, during which time* the colony was collected, and
kept crow’ded together in the guard-room, which was used
as a church, in a tropical climate, and in a sickly season.
The preachers presented a paper to the council, which Da
they took care to make public, requiring them to set aside W
a day for solemn fasting and bumiliation ; and, under pre¬
tence of enumerating the sins of the people, they poured
out abuse on their rulers. They damped the courage of
the people by continually representing hell as the termi¬
nation of life to most men, because most men are sinners.
Carrying the presbyterian doctrine of predestination to an
extreme, they put a stop to all exertions, by showing that
the consequences of these depended not on the individuals
by whom they were made, but on an all-controlling and ir¬
resistible power, by which, independently of human efforts
and volitions, everything was necessarily determined. They
converted the numberless accidents to which soldiers and
seamen are exposed into immediate judgments of God
against their sins ; and, having resolved to quit the settle¬
ment, they, in excuse for doing so, wrote bitter letters to'
the general assembly against the characters of the colo¬
nists, and the advantages of the colony itself. One of
these men, in a kind of history of the colony which he
published, exulted with a savage triumph over the mis¬
fortunes of his countrymen. “ They w’ere such a rude
company,” said he, “ that I believe Sodom never declared
such impudence in sinning as they. An observant eye
might see that they were running the way they went;
hell and judgment was to be seen upon them, and in them,
before the time. Their cup was full; it could hold no
more : they were ripe ; they must be cut down with the
sickle of the wrath of God.”
The last party which joined the second colony at Darien,
after it had been three months settled, was Captain Camp¬
bell of Finab, with a company of the^ people of his own
estate, whom he had commanded in Flanders, and whom
he carried to Darien in his own ship. On their arrival at
New St Andrew, they found that intelligence had been
received that a Spanish force of 1600 men, which had
been brought from the coast of the South Sea, lay en¬
camped at Tubucantee, waiting there till a Spanish squa¬
dron of eleven ships which was expected should arrive,
when they were jointly to attack the fort. . The military
command was offered to Captain Campbell, in compliment
to his reputation and to his birth as a descendant of the
families of Breadalbane and Atholl. In order to prevent
a joint attack, he resolved to attack first; and therefore
on the second day after his arrival, he marched with two
hundred men to Tubucantee, before his approach could
be known to the enemy, stormed the camp in the night¬
time, dissipated the Spanish force with much slaughter,
and returned to the fort the fifth day. But he found the
Spanish ships off the harbour, their troops landed, and
almost all hope of aid or of provisions cut off; yet he stood
a siege of nearly six weeks, until almost all the officers
had clied, the enemy by their approaches had cut off Ins
wells, and his ammunition had been so far expended tha
he was obliged to melt the pewter dishes of the garrison
into balls. The garrison then capitulated, and obtained
not only the common honours of war and security tor the
property of the company, but, as if they had been con¬
querors, even exacted hostages for the performance ot the
conditions. Captain Campbell alone desired to be ex¬
cepted from the capitulation, saying, that he was sure
the Spaniards would not forgive him the mischief whicn
lie so lately had done them. But the brave, by their cou¬
rage, often escape that death which they seem to provok •
Captain Campbell made his escape in his vessel, and a -
rived safely at New York, whence he proceeded to Scot¬
land, where the company presented him with a go
dal, in which his bravery was duly commemorated,
lord-lyon king-at-arms, whose office it is in Scotian
confer badges of distinction upon honourable actions ac-
V
V ^
D A R
cording to the rules of heraldry, also granted him a High¬
lander and an Indian as supporters to his coat of arms.
But a harder fate attended those whom Captain Camp¬
bell left at Darien. They were so weak in their health as
not to be able to weigh up the anchors of the Rising Sun,
one of their ships, which carried sixty guns ; the generous
Spaniards, however, assisted them. In going out of the
harbour the vessel ran aground. The prey was tempting;
and, to obtaiu it, the Spaniards had only to stand by and
look on; but they showed that mercy to the Scotch in
distress which one of their own countrymen, General El¬
liot, afterwards returned to the posterity of those Spa¬
niards at the siege of Gibraltar. The Darien ships being
leaky and weakly manned, were obliged in their voyage to
take shelter in different ports belonging to Spain and Eng¬
land. But the Spaniards in the new world treated them
with uniform kindness, while the English governments
showed them none ; and one of their ships was seized and
detained. In fact, only Captain Campbell’s ship and an¬
other small one were saved. The Rising Sun was lost on
the bar of Charlestown ; and of the colony, not more than
thirty, saved from war, shipwreck, or disease, ever re¬
turned to their native country.
Paterson, who had withstood the blow, could not endure
the reflection of misfortune. He was seized with a lunacy
iu his passage home, after the ruin of the first colony ; but
he recovered in his own country, where his spirit, still ar¬
dent and unbroken, presented a new plan to the company,
founded on the idea of King William, that England should
have the joint dominion of the settlement with Scotland.
He survived many years in Scotland, pitied, respected,
but neglected. After the union of the two kingdoms, he
claimed reparation of his losses from the equivalent-money
obtained by England to the Darien Company, but was paid
nothing; because a grant to him from a public fund would
have been only an act of humanity, and not a political job.
Thus ended the colony of Darien ; an adventure which, in
its disastrous results, inflicted a severe blow upon Scot¬
land, and excited feelings of deep hostility towards the
English government and nation, which half a century was
scarcely sufficient to extinguish.
DARK, in Logic, one of the modes of syllogism of the
first figure, in which the major proposition is an universal
affirmative, and the minor and conclusion particular affir¬
matives : thus,
Every thing that is moved, is moved by another ;
Some body is moved ;
Therefore some body is moved by another.
DARIUS, the name of several kings of Persia. See
Persia.
DARKEHMEN, a circle in the province of East Prus¬
sia, extending over 136 square miles, or 87,040 acres, and
containing 20,530 inhabitants. The chief place, a city of
the same name, is situated on the river Angerap, sixty-three
miles south-east of Konigsberg, and contains 164 houses
and 1901 inhabitants.
DARKNESS, the absence or privation of natural light.
One' of the most terrible sorts of darkness was that which
Moses brought upon Egypt as a plague on the inhabitants
of that country. The Septuagint, our translation of the
Bible, and indeed most others, in explaining Moses’s ac¬
count of this darkness, render it “ a darkness which may
be felt;” whilst the Vulgate has it “ palpable darkness,”
that is, a darkness consisting of black vapours and exha¬
lations, so condensed that they might be perceived by the
organs of feeling. But some commentators think that this
is carrying the sense too far, since in such a medium man¬
kind could not live an hour, much less for the space of
three days, as the Egyptians are said to have done, during
the time the darkness lasted; and therefore they imagine,
D A R 629
that instead of a darkness which might be felt, the He-Darlington
brew, phrase may signify a darkness in which men went II
groping and feeling about for every thing they want- Darnley’s
?.\.]reF}?rc 18 ofthis opinion, and thinks that Philo, in ,lsland-
his life of Moses, understood the passage in its right sense. v^V^i
ror m this daikness, says he, “ whoever were in bed
durst not get up; and such as their natural occasions
compelled to get up, went feeling about by the walls, or
any thing they could lay hold of, as if they had been
blind.
During the last three hours that our Saviour remained
upon the cross, a darkness covered the face of the earth,
to the great terror and amazement of the people present
at the execution. This extraordinary alteration in the
face of nature was, according to Dr Macknight, peculiar¬
ly proper, whilst the Sun of righteousness was withdraw¬
ing his beams from the land of Israel and from the world;
not only because it was a miraculous testimony borne by
God himself to his innocence, but also because it was a
fit emblem of his departure and its effects, at least till his
light shone out anew with additional splendour in the mi¬
nistry of his apostles. The darkness which now covered
Judaea and the neighbouring countries, beginning about
noon, and continuing till Jesus expired, was not the effect
of an ordinary eclipse of the sun, which can never happen
except at the new moon, whereas now it was full moon;
not to mention, that the total darkness occasioned by
eclipses of the sun never continues above twelve or fifteen
minutes. It must therefore have been produced by the
divine power, in a manner we are not able to explain.
DARLING EON, a town in the ward of the same name,
in the county of Durham, 243 miles from London. It is si¬
tuated on the river Skern, which runs into the Tees. There
are some large establishments for making linen in the town.
There is a collegiate church, and the remains of an epis¬
copal palace, with a spacious market-place, well attend¬
ed on Saturday. The inhabitants amounted in 1811 to
5059, in 1821 to 5750, and in 1831 to 8574.
DARMAPOORAM, a town of Hindustan, in the pro¬
vince of Barramahal, 103 miles east by south from Seringa-
patam. Long. 78. 21. E. Lat. 12. 11. N.
DARMSTADT, a city, the capital of the grand duchy of
Hesse-Darmstadt, in Germany. It is situated on a small
river of the same name, and is divided into the old and the
new town. The former is surrounded with thick walls, and
is gloomy and unsightly; the latter has good broad streets,
well built, paved, and lighted, and has a cleanly appear¬
ance. In the palace is the ducal library, containing 90,000
volumes, a cabinet of natural history, and a small but se¬
lect gallery of pictures. There is a gymnasium and other
institutions for education ; and the buildings for recrea¬
tion and for charitable purposes are respectable and ap¬
propriate. The inhabitants, including the students and
the military, are 14,500. It is merely the capital, and has
no other commerce or manufactures than what arises from
its relation to the rest of the dominions of which it is the
centre. The environs of the city are well cultivated, and
towards the neighbouring mountains are romantic. It is
in long. 8. 28. 25. E. and lat. 49. 56. 24. N.
DARNETAL, a town of the department of the Lower
Seine, in France, about two miles from Rouen, containing
600 houses and 5230 inhabitants, who make many of the
finer kinds of woollen goods, as well as flannel and blan¬
kets. There are also tanneries, paper-mills, and cotton¬
spinning machines.
DARNLEY’S Island, an island in the Eastern Seas,
lying in Torres Strait, between New Holland and New
Guinea. It is about fifteen miles in circumference, and
covered with rich vegetation. It is inhabited by a treach¬
erous race. Long. 142. 59. E. Lat. 9. 39. S.
u f
630
Daroca
II
Daru.
D A R
DAUOCA, a city of Spain, in the province of Aragon.
It is situated in a most prolific vaiiey, through which the
river Xiloca runs, and by the waters of which it is lib.6™
lv irrigated. The hemp and flax produced here are highly
^Sed throughout the whole of Spain. The place con-
tains seven churches and 2683 inhabitants.
DARRA, a town of Hindustan, in the province of b
har, district of Monghir, eighty-four miles north-west trom
Moorshedabad. Long. 87. L E. Lat. 24, 43. N.
DARTFORD, a town of the hundred of Axton, in t
county of Kent, fifteen miles from London. Near to t
are several mills for making gunpowder. It ^ a great
thoroughfare for travellers to the Continent. .
good market, which is held on Saturdays The inhabitants
amounted in 1801 to 2406, in 1811 to 317/, in 1821
3P>93 and in 1831 to 4715. „ . .
DARTMOUTH, a borough and sea-port of the un¬
bred of Coleridge, in the county of Devon, thnty mi e
from Exeter, and 203 from London. It is a long town,
facino- the quay. It has three churches, and several good
charity schools^ The harbour is one of the finest on the
southern coast of this island, but difficult to sail from with
an easterly wind. There are many ships equipped here for
the Newfoundland fishery. Two members were formerly
returned to parliament, but there is now only one. Ihe
fish market is held daily, and is most abundantly supplied.
xt gS n,„rket i/held f ^
amounted in 1801 to 3211, in 1811 to 3412, in 1821 to 3876,
and in 1831 to 4597. _ .
DARUVAR, a town in the Austrian Sclavomsh pro¬
vince of Siebenbergen, the capital of the district Janko-
vice. It contains a Catholic, a Greek, and a Piotestant
church, and about 3000 inhabitants, who cultivate silk and
wine, and manufacture woollen cloths. There is a salt
spring near it, and some marble quarries.
DARU, Comte de, a peer of France, a member of the
French Academy and of the Academy of Sciences, and a
distinguished historian, was born at Montpellier, where his
father held the office of secretary to the intendancy of
Languedoc, about the year 1767. He entered the army
at the age of sixteen, and at the period of the revollJ.t
was lieutenant and commissary at war. Like most ot the
ardent spirits of that time, he warmly embraced the prin¬
ciples of political amelioration which were then professed,
and made the campaign of 1792 against the Prussians
But not long after the battle of Valmy, and the retieat of
the Duke of Brunswick, he was arrested as a suspected
person, and imprisoned for eighteen months, during which
he amused his solitary hours with poetical and other com¬
positions. After the guillotine had done tardy justice on
Robespierre, and terrorism had ceased, he was liberated;
and subsequently he filled several important situations in
the commissariat and the office of the ministry of war.
When the 18th of Brumaire gave France a new master in
Bonaparte, the first consul appointed him secretary to
the ministry at war; and the day after the battle of Ma¬
rengo, the victorious chief nominated him one of the com¬
missioners for the execution of the convention concluded
between General Berthier and General Melas. Having
warmly attached himself to the fortunes of Napoleon, Daru
was, in 1805, nominated a counsellor of st^te
ant-general of the emperor’s military household. In 180b,
he was appointed intendant-general of the Brunswick ter¬
ritory, and subsequently commissioner for the execution ot
the treaties of Tilsit and Vienna, as well as minister pleni¬
potentiary at Berlin. In 1806 he was elected a member
of the Institute, and in 1808 an honorary member of the
Berlin Academy. In 1811 he was appointed minister se¬
cretary of state, and shortly afterwards he received the
portfolio of the war department. He accompanied Napo-
D A R
leon in his Russian campaign ; and in the council sum- Bam- ^
moned immediately after the captuie of Smolensko,
consider whether the French forces should advance farther
during that season, he gave his voice decidedly in the
negative. When the disastrous retreat from Moscow had
commenced, General Matthieu Dumas having become ex¬
tremely indisposed, Daru was obliged to assume the func¬
tions of intendant-general of the army; and his capacity
for labour, which was happily united with an iron constitu¬
tion, enabled him to fulfil, with apparent ease, duties which
would have killed several men of ordinary strength. After
the restoration of the Bourbons, he was made intendant-
general to the king; an appointment which took place in
December 1814. " But on the return of Napoleon from
Elba, he joined the standard of his old master, subscribed
a considerable sum for the purpose of arming the Parisian
federates, and in his capacity of counsellor of state attached
his signature to the celebrated declaration of the 25th
March. The second restoration, accordingly, found him
compromised by his connection with the government of the
hundred days; and he retired for a time to private life, in
order to devote himself to literary pursuits. But in 1819
he was summoned by royal ordonnance to the Chamber of
Peers, where his rectitude of judgment, his administrative
knowledge, his business habits, and his talents as a public
speaker, rendered him one of the most formidable adver¬
saries of the Villele ministry, and enabled him to signalize
himself as one of the most powerful defenders of the na,
tional liberties. In 1821 he published his History of Ve-
nice, which is by far the most important of his works, and
that upon which his literary fame principally rests, and
w'hich is now universally regarded as the most complete
and impartial history of that singular government, equally
remarkable for its strength and its duration. Of his sub¬
sequent work, the History of Bretagne, all that need be
said here is, that it displays labour and accuracy, but is
devoid of general interest, though to mere historical anti¬
quaries its value is very great. His other productions con-
sist of a poetical translation of Horace, a variety ot occa¬
sional poems, discourses and eloges pronounced in the aca¬
demy, and speeches delivered in the Chamber of Peers.
Count Daru died at his seat near Meulan, on the 5th hep-
tember 1829, aged sixty-two; and his loss was the more
o-enerally felt, because his character and talents had procu¬
red him many friends. His remains were deposited in the
Cemetiere Montmartre, and five discourses were pronoun¬
ced over his tomb by MM. Mirbel, Cuvier, Silvestre de
Sacy, Ternaux, and Leroy. Lamartine the poet was elected
to fill the vacancy in the academy occasioned by the death
of Count Daru. . , . , .
DARWAR, a district of Hindustan, in the mzam s do¬
minions, in the province of Aurungabad, situated between
the eighteenth and nineteenth degrees of north latitude.
The chief towns are Darwar and Renapoor, the former
situated in long. 76. 35. E. and lat. 18. 40. N.
Darwar, called also Naperabad, a town and fort¬
ress of Hindustan, province of Bejapoor. The town is si¬
tuated to the south of the fort, and is protected by a weak
wall and ditch against any sudden incursions. Ihe °,
strong, though not a regular fortification ; and the ditche
are particularly good. This place has often changed
ters. In the year 1685 it was taken from the king of be
japore by the armies of Aurungzebe, and Boon afte ffi
decease of that monarch tell into the hands of th ^
rattas, from whom it was taken by lippoo Sultan ml™
It was retaken by the Mahrattas, aided by , • ^
after a siege of twenty-nine weeks, in the course o
it was almost totally destroyed, along with the ® ]ti.
ing country, which was previously rich and highly
vated.
D A R
D A R 631
DARWIN, Erasmus, a physician, poet, and medical
writer, was born at Elston, near Newark, in Nottingham¬
shire, on the 12th December 1731. He was the fourth
son of Robert Darwin, Esq., and received the early part
of his education at Chesterfield school, under the Rev.
Mr Burrows, of whom he always spoke with great respect.
He was entered, with two of his elder brothers, at St
John’s College, Cambridge; and, being intended for the
practice of physic, he took the degree of bachelor in medi-
I cine in 1755, defending in his thesis an opinion, that the
motion of the heart and arteries is produced by the im¬
mediate stimulus of the blood. During his residence in
Cambridge, Mr Darwin was elected to one of Lord Exe¬
ter’s scholarships, worth about sixteen pounds per annum,
which, from the meagreness of his father’s income at that
time, was esteemed a desirable acquisition. After having
prepared himself for his future profession, by an attend¬
ance on the lectures of Dr Hunter in London, and by a
severe course of study at Edinburgh, he contemplated
the metropolis as the proper theatre for his exertions.
Deterred, however, by the want of a proper introduc¬
tion, and the improbability of obtaining immediate pa¬
tronage, Dr Darwin thought it altogether more advis¬
able to settle in the country. The first place to which
he went, in the capacity of physician, was Nottingham,
where he was entirely disappointed in his hopes of prac¬
tice ; he therefore removed to Lichfield, with letters of
introduction to Lady Gresley and the Rev. Mr Seward.
Here his great capacity and various acquirements were
most justly appreciated. He resided at Lichfield during
a great number of years, in the enjoyment of a very ex¬
tensive reputation, and a very profitable practice, the
foundation of which is supposed to have been laid by his
success in restoring to health a gentleman of fortune in
the neighbourhood, whose recovery was despaired of by a
numerous circle of friends and acquaintances.
In the year 1757 Dr Darwin married Miss Mary How¬
ard, daughter of Charles Howard, Esq. By this lady, who
died in 1770, he had five children, two of whom died in
infancy. The eldest son, Charles, he educated to his own
profession, but he died in the twentieth year of his age,
very soon after he had finished his course of studies at
Edinburgh, where he gained considerable reputation, by
endeavouring to furnish a criterion for distinguishing
from mucus. Soon after the decease of his wife, Dr Dar¬
win commenced his laborious work, the Zoonomia, which,
however, he did not think proper to publish till long after¬
wards.
In 1778 he obtained a lease of a picturesque spot of
ground about a mile from Lichfield, where a cold bath
was erected by Sir John Flayer, an eminent physician in
the beginning of the last century. There is a grotto, sur¬
rounded by projecting rocks, from the edges of which
trickles a perpetual shower of water. This place became
his favourite retreat and amusement; here he formed a
i botanic garden, and] began his poem on the Loves of the
Plants, the scenery of which, “ as adapted to love scenes,
and being thence a proper residence for the modern god¬
dess of botany,” is taken from these sequestered shades.
In 1780 Dr Darwin was called to attend Coldnel Sa-
cheverel Pole of Radbourne-hall, four miles from Derby ;
and a few months after the decease of the colonel, he
married his relict, Mrs Pole, with a jointure of L.600 per
annum. The marriage of Dr Darwin occasioned his im¬
mediate removal from Lichfield to Radbourne, where he
resided two years, until he got accommodated wdth a house
in Derby. In this last situation he remained till about
I two months before his death, when he removed to Bread-
wall Priory, about three miles from Derby, which was a
commodious and peaceful retirement for his old age.
During the last years of his life, Dr Darwin was much Darwin,
subject to inflammation of the chest and lungs ; and he had
a very serious attack of this disease in the course of the
spring of 1801, from which, after repeated bleedings, he
with difficulty recovered. On the 10th of April 1802, he
was attacked with a severe shivering fit, followed by a cor¬
responding hot one, and accompanied with symptoms of in¬
flammation of the lungs. His surgeon, Mr Hadley, took
from him, in the course of the day, twenty-five ounces of
blood. The fever was removed, and in two or three days
he became, to all appearance, quite well. But, on the 17th,
as he was walking in his garden with Mrs Darwin, and a
lady of about his own age, the latter remarked, that he
would have sufficient employment for ten years in bring¬
ing all his plans about the place to perfection. “ You, ma¬
dam,” he replied, “ have as good a prospect as any body
I know, of your age, of living ten years ; I have not.” Mrs
Darwin remarked his good looks, spirits, and strength.
He said, “ I always appear particularly well immediately
before I become ill.” He sat with his family in the even¬
ing, conversing with his usual cheerfulness, went to bed,
rose at six on the following morning, and wrote some
letters till after seven, when he was seized with a chilly
fit, which increased, and was attended with thirst. He
then sat down by the kitchen fire and drank a consider¬
able quantity of butter-milk; but feeling himself much
indisposed, he lay down on a sofa, when, becoming cold
and torpid, he was raised up, and placed in an arm-chair,
where, without pain or any emotion, he expired, a little
before nine, in the seventy-first year of his age.
Dr Darwin left a widow and six children, three boys
and three girls, by his last marriage. There was also
another child, who died in infancy. Besides these, he left
two natural daughters, whom he had established in a
school at Ashbourne, and for whose instruction and assist¬
ance he composed and published his Treatise on Female
Education.
During the whole of his life, Dr Darwin was remarkable
for great benevolence of disposition, and it was particular¬
ly conspicuous in the care which he took even of the low¬
est animals. The keenness of his feelings on this subject
has been attributed to the strong impression made upon
his mind by a representation of the tortures of the inqui¬
sition, which was shown to him at an early age. He had
frequently expressed a strong desire that the termination
of his existence might be without pain, having always
looked upon death as the less evil of the two. He was of
a middle stature, in person gross and corpulent; his fea¬
tures were coarse, and his countenance heavy; if not
wholly devoid of animation, it certainly was by no means
expressive. In his gait and dress he was rather clumsy
and slovenly, and frequently walked with his tongue hang¬
ing out of his mouth.
His conversation abounded with very unequal sallies of
wit. When he found himself engaged with a powerful an¬
tagonist in argument, he had sometimes recourse to ridi¬
cule, a weapon which he did not always handle with dex¬
terity, for he was affected with an impediment in his
speech, which rendered his enunciation scarcely intelli¬
gible.
About the age of twenty-one, Dr Darwin was seized
with a fit of the gout, in consequence of which he totally
abstained from all fermented liquors, not even tasting
small beer, nor a drop of any kind of wine; but he ate
plentifully of meat, and all kinds of vegetables and fruit,
using as his drink, at meals, chiefly water alone, or cream
and water, with tea and coffee between them. By this
abstinence from fermented liquors, he kept quite free
from gout for fifteen years, and also from some other com¬
plaints to which he had been subject. He then indulged
632
D A H
Darwin, himself occasionally with a little wine and water, cyder
and water, or the like, but was speedily admonished into
his former temperance by a paroxysm of the gout. Me
was in the habit of eating a large quantity of food, and
his stomach possessed strong powers of digestion. His
advice frequently was, “ Eat, or be eatenbut he took
every opportunity to impress a dread of all fermented
liquors on the minds of his patients, whose diseases he
was too ready to represent as originating in the frequent
use of them. In the Botanic Garden he has also taken
an opportunity to express his strong antipathy against fer¬
mented and spirituous liquors, by comparing their effec s
to that of the Promethean fire : “ I he ancient stoiy o
Prometheus, who concealed in his bosom the fire he na
stolen, and afterwards had a vulture perpetually gnawing
his liver, affords so apt an allegory for the effects of drink¬
ing spirituous liquors, that one should be induced to think
the art of distillation, as well as some other chemical pro¬
cesses, such as calcining gold, had been known in times of
great antiquity, and lost again. _ The swallowing of drams
cannot be better represented in hieroglyphic language,
than by taking fire into one’s bosom; and certain it is,
that the general effect of drinking fermented or spirituous
liquors is an inflamed, schirrous, or paralytic liver, with
its various critical or consequential diseases, as leprous
eruptions on the face, gout, dropsy, epilepsy, and insanity.
The various productions of Dr Darwin s fanciful and
philosophical pen have long since been exposed to public
criticism, and received an ample share, as well of obloquy
as of applause. Still, however, he has claims to celebrity,
from the literary lustre which adorns his character as a
medical philosopher, a philosophical agriculturist, and a
The pretensions of Dr Darwin as a medical philosopher
rest chiefly on his Zoonomia. In whichever point of view
this work be considered, whether as a mere repository of
curious natural and medical facts, or. as a scheme ana
system of pathological and physiological disquisition, it
must ever be allowed to possess distinguished merit. As a
philosophical agriculturist Dr Darwin is entitled to high
consideration. A small portion of his Phytologia is devoted
to a fanciful system of vegetable physiology; the second
part, divided into three sections, treats of the economy of
vegetation; and the third, on agriculture and horticul¬
ture, is divided into six ^ctions. Dr Darwin, in his capa¬
city of poet, does not stand very high in the estimation of
some. His cadences are not sufficiently varied for a poem
of such length as the Botanic Garden ; indeed there is
an evident mechanism in the construction of his lines,
which it is by no means pleasant to detect. But in some
of his minor effusions he is particularly happy. The beau¬
tiful little song to May is exquisitely finished; and it would
be difficult to find thirty lines in the Botanic Garden to rival
in dignity and pathos the “ Address to Swilcar s Oak, in¬
troduced in the Phytologia.
As a prose writer Dr Darwin was incorrect; his gram¬
matical errors are numerous, and he was even deficient in
orthography. In the year 1758 he published, in the Philo¬
sophical Transactions, “ An attempt to confute the opinion
of Henry Earl, concerning thehscent of vapour;” and “ An
account of the cure of a periodical haemoptoe, by keeping
the patient awake.” This was followed by “ Experiments
on animal fluids in the exhausted receiver.” He inserted
in the Derby Mercury, an elegy written at Matlock, and
addressed to Mrs Darwin; another piece occasioned by
the appearance of a most fatal distemper among horned
cattle, at Calke, near Derby; and a third article on the
occasion of the earthquake, which was felt at Derby and
in the surrounding country. In 1782 the Botanical So¬
ciety of Lichfield published a translation of Linnaeus s
DAT
Systema Vegetabilium, the execution of which was prin- Da
cipally confided to Dr Darwin. His other works have al- \
ready been mentioned in the course of this biographical bat
sketch. He left a poem entitled The Temple of Nature, 'WY
which was published after his death.
DASAN, a small island in the Eastern Seas, near the
south-west coast of the island of Mindanao. Long. 121.
30. E. Lat. 6. 46. N.
DATA, among mathematicians, a term for such things
or quantities as are given or known, in order thereby to
find other things that are unknown. The data of Euclid
is the first in order of the books which have been written
by the ancient geometricians, to facilitate and promote the
method of resolution or analysis. In general, a thing is
said to be given which is either actually exhibited, or can
be found out, that is, which is either known by hypothe¬
sis, or that can be demonstrated to be known; and the
propositions in the book of Euclid’s data show what things
can be found out or known, from those that by hypothesis
are already known ; so that in the analysis or investigation
of a problem, from the things that are laid down as given
or known, it is demonstrated, by the help of these propo¬
sitions, that other things are given, and from these last
that others again are given, and so on, till it is demon¬
strated that that which was proposed to be found out in
the problem is given; and when this is done, the problem
is solved, and its composition is made and derived from
the compositions of the data which were employed in the
analysis. And thus the data of Euclid are of the most
general and necessary use in the solution of problems of
every kind.
Marinus, at the end of his preface to the data, is mis¬
taken in asserting that Euclid has not used the syntheti¬
cal, but the analytical method in delivering them; for
though in the analysis of a theorem, the thing to be de¬
monstrated is assumed in the analysis, yet in the demon¬
strations of the data, the thing to be demonstrated, which
is, that something is given, is never once assumed in the
demonstration ; from which it is manifest that every one
of them is demonstrated synthetically; though indeed if
a proposition of the data be turned into a problem, the
demonstration of the proposition becomes the analysis of
the problem.
From the primary use of the word data in mathematics,
it has been transplanted into other branches, as philoso¬
phy, medicine, and the like, where it expresses any quan¬
tity which, for the sake of a present calculation, is taken
for granted to be such, without requiring an immediate
proof of its certainty, and is also called the given quantity,
number, or power. And hence also such things as are
known, and from which, either in natural philosophy, the
animal mechanism, or the operation of medicine, we come
to the knowledge of others unknown, are now frequently in
physical writers called data.
DATE, an addition or appendage in writings, acts, in¬
struments, letters, and the like, expressing the day and
month of the year when the act or letter was passed or
signed, together with the place where the same was done.
The word is formed from the Latin datum, given, the par¬
ticiple of do, I give. . . , ,. ,
DATISI, in Logic, a mode of syllogisms m the tmru
figure, in which the major is an universal affirmative, and
the minor and conclusion particular affirmative proposi¬
tions. For example,
All who serve God are kings ;
Some who serve God are poor ;
Therefore some who are poor are kings.
DATIVE, in Grammar, the third case in the declension
of nouns, expressing the state or relation of a thing °
D A U
D A U 633
Daubl':
tor
which some other thing is referred. It is called dative^
because usually governed by a verb, implying something
to be given to some person. As commodare Socrati, to
lend to Socrates; utilis reipublicce, useful to the common¬
wealth ; perniciosus ecclesice, injurious to the church. In
English, where we have properly no cases, this relation is
expressed by the sign to or for.
DAUBENTON, Louis-Jean-Marie, a distinguished
naturalist, was born at Montbar, in the department of the
Cote d’Or, in France, on the 29th of May 1716. His fa¬
ther, Jean Daubenton, was a notary in that place, and his
mother’s name was Marie Pichenot. In his youth he dis¬
tinguished himself by the sweetness of his temper, and
by his diligent application to his studies. The Jesuits of
Dijon, under whose tuition he was first placed, noticed
him in a peculiar manner. Having gone through a course
of what was called philosophy, under the Dominicans of
Dijon, his father, who destined him for the church, and
who had made him assume the ecclesiastical dress at the
age of twelve, sent him to Paris to study theology. But
his predilection for natural history induced him privately
to study medicine. Accordingly he attended the lectures
of Baron, Martinenq, and Col de Villars, and likewise
those of Winslow, Hunault, and Antoine de Jussieu, in
the botanic garden. The death of his father in 1736
enabled him to follow his inclination without constraint.
Accordingly he took a degree at Rheims in 1741, and re¬
turned to his own country with the intention of following
the practice of medicine. But fortune destined him for a
more brilliant career.
Montbar had given birth, about the same time, to ano¬
ther man of a very different character, who, though pos¬
sessed of an independent fortune, a robust constitution,
and actuated by a violent passion for pleasure, had deter¬
mined notwithstanding to devote himself to the cultiva¬
tion of the sciences. This man was Buffon. Hesitating
for some time what branch of physics he should make his
peculiar study, he tried by turns geometry, mechanical
philosophy, and agriculture. At last his friend Dufay,
who during his short superintendence had raised the bo¬
tanic garden from that state of neglect in which former
naturalists had left it, and who had procured for Buffon
the reversion of his office, dying, and leaving him his
place, Buffon’s choice was fixed on natural history, and he
saw before him that wide field which he afterwards tra¬
versed with so much reputation.
Natural history was at that time little else than a dry
catalogue of names, destitute of that methodical arrange¬
ment, of that precision, and of those interesting details,
which have since distinguished it. It occupied a very low
station among the sciences, and instead of being a fashion¬
able study, was degraded into the drudge of medicine and
surgery. Buffon formed the bold plan of giving life to this
dry and apparently sterile mass, of painting nature as she
is, always young, always active ; of pointing out the har¬
mony of all her parts, and the laws by which they are
combined into one system, and of giving his picture all
the glow, freshness, and charms of nature herself. But,
to secure success, it was necessary to make truth the
basis of his system. Every thing must be collected, re¬
vised, and examined. The forms and dimensions of ani¬
mals must be compared, and their internal structure as¬
certained. The ardent and impatient spirit of Buffon
could ill brook a task so tedious and painful, and the im¬
perfection of his sight rendered him unqualified for it.
He looked about, therefore, for a man possessed of suffi¬
cient judgment, patience, and neatness of hand for his
purpose, and at the same time modest enough to submit
willingly to act a secondary part. He found such a man
in Daubenton, the companion of his infancy.
VOL. VII.
The character of these two philosophers was almost op- Dauben-
posite in every respect. Buffon was violent, impatient, t ton,
and rash; Daubenton was all gentleness, patience, and
caution : Buffon wished to divine the truth rather than to
discover it; Daubenton believed nothing which he had
not himself seen and ascertained: Buffon suffered his
imagination to lead him from nature ; Daubenton, on the
contrary, discarded from his writings every expression
which was calculated to mislead. They were thus hap¬
pily fitted to correct each other’s faults; and accordingly
the history of quadrupeds, which appeared whilst they thus
laboured together, is the most exempt from error of any
of the divisions or departments which constitute Buffon’s
great work on natural history.
Buffon drew Daubenton to Paris about 1742, and procur¬
ed for him the place of demonstrator of the cabinet of natu¬
ral history, at first with a salary of only 500 francs, but
which was gradually increased to 2000. He furnished
him likewise with a lodging, and neglected nothing to
secure his comfort and convenience. Daubenton, on his
side, devoted himself to second the views of his benefac¬
tor. The cabinet of natural history, which was arranged,
and in a great measure collected, by his means, proved of
immense service. In the history of quadrupeds, he gave
the description and dissection of a hundred and eighty-
two species of quadrupeds. These details contained a vast
number of new facts, arranged in such a manner that
the most curious results are often obtained merely by
comparing them together. This work procured for Dau¬
benton a very high reputation, and drew upon him the
envy of Reaumur, who at that time considered himself
as at the head of natural history. But the credit and
reputation of Buffon was sufficient to prevent his friend
from falling a victim to the attack of this formidable an¬
tagonist.
In the subsequent parts of his natural history, Buffon
was persuaded to separate himself from Daubenton. This
injured the precision and value of these parts excessively,
whilst it deprived Daubenton of 12,000 francs a year. Af¬
terwards the intimacy between them revived, and conti¬
nued till the death of Buffon.
* The number of dissertations on natural history which
Daubenton -published in the Memoirs of the French Aca¬
demy is so great that even a list of them would be too
long for this place. Descriptions of different animals, dis¬
sections, comparisons between the forms of different ani¬
mals, anatomical examinations of fossil bones, in order to
determine the animals to which they had belonged, Jhe
physiology of vegetables, and different parts of mineralogy,
successively occupied him ; not to mention his experiments
on agriculture and rural economy, which, however, were
of more service to him afterwards than all the rest of his
labours, on account of the reputation among the populace
which they had procured him.
Besides his publications, Daubenton was of great ser¬
vice to science as a lecturer. From 1775 he gave lectures
on natural history in the college of medicine. In 1783 he
lectured on rural economy. He was appointed professor
of mineralogy by the convention at the Garden of Plants,
and he gave lectures during the ephemeral existence
of the Normal School. He was likewise one of the edi¬
tors of the Journal des S^avans, and contributed to both
the Encyclopaedias. As a lecturer he was extremely po¬
pular, and, what is uncommon, he retained his popularity
to the last.
Notwithstanding the feebleness of his constitution, he
arrived at a very advanced age without much disease or
loss of his faculties. This may in some measure be ascrib¬
ed to the gentleness of his temper, and his remarkable
resignation. He was temperate and moderate even in his
634
Daughter
li
Dauphin.
D A U
studies. Part of his time was spent in reading romances
with his wife. _
In the year 1799 he was appointed one of the members
of the conservative senate, and he resolved to attend the
meeting of it. This obliged him to alter his regimen. The
season was severe. At the first meeting which he attended
he fell from his seat in an apoplectic fit. The most speedy
assistance was procured, and by its means he was restored
to his senses. With the utmost calmness he pointed out
with his fingers the progress of the paralysis in different
parts of his body, and died without a struggle on the first
of January 1800. .
DAUGHTER, a female child. Daughters, among the
ancients, were more frequently exposed than sons, as they
required greater charge to educate and settle them in t ie
world. Those who had no legitimate sons were obliged
by the Athenian laws to leave their estates to their daugh¬
ters, who were confined to marry their nearest relations,
or otherwise to forfeit their inheritance ; as we find to
have been practised likewise among the Jews, many ot
whose laws seem to have been transcribed by colon.
DAULAKEE, a village of Persia, situated on a small
rivulet. The peasantry collect naphtha from two wells m
the vicinity. .
DAULI, a river of Northern Hindustan, in the piovince
of Serinagur, which, after a short course, joins the Alca-
nanda at Vishnuprayaga, a holy resort of the Hindus.
DAUPHIN is a title given to the eldest son of the
royal family of France, and heir presumptive of the crown,
on account, as is said, of the province of Dauphine, which
in 1343 was granted to Philip of Valois, on this condition,
by Humbert, dauphin of the Viennois. The dauphin, in
his letters patent, styled himself “ By the grace of uod,
eldest son of France, and dauphin of Viennois.
Most authors who have sought the origin of the name
Dauphin and Dauphine seem to have indulged too much
in conjecture. Duchesne is of opinion that it was the
orandson of Guy the Fat who first bore the name of dau-
phin. But Chorier observes, that William, canon of Notre-
Dame at Grenoble, who wrote the life of Margaret,
daughter of Stephen earl of Burgundy, married to Guy,
son of Guy the Fat, calls the latter simply Guy the Old,
and the former always Count Dauphin ; and he adds, that
no record nor monument ever attributes the title ot dau¬
phin to Guy the Fat, or to any of his predecessors; so
that it must necessarily have taken its rise in his son, all
of whose successors so constantly assumed it that it be¬
came the proper name of the family. Guy died in the yeai
1142, in the flower of his youth ; so that it must be about
the year 1120 that the title commenced, and without doubt
on some remarkable occasion. Chorier observes further,
that this prince was of a military disposition, and delight¬
ed in nothing but war; and again, that it was the custom
of the cavaliers to deck their casques, their coats ot arms,
and the housing of their horses, with some figure or device
peculiar to themselves, and by which they were distin¬
guished from all others engaged in the same combat or
tournament. From all these circumstances, he conjectures
that this Guy chose the dolphin for his symbol; that this
was the crest of his helmet; and that he bore it on his
coat in some notable tournament or battle in which he
distinguished himself; and this, Chorier makes no doubt,
is the real origin of the appellation.
The seigneurs or lords of Auvergne have likewise borne
the appellation of dauphin ; but the dauphins of Auvergne
had it not till a considerable time after those of the Vlen-
nois, and even received it from them. The manner of their
doing so may be briefly explained. Guy VIII. dauphin of
Viennois, had by his wife Margaret, daughter of Stephen
earl of Burgundy, a son and two daughters. The son was
DAY
Guy IX., his successor. Beatrix, one of the daughters, was iw
married to the Count d’Auvergne, who, according to Blon- f
del, was William V., or rather, as Chorier and others think, Dave*
Robert VI. father of William V. This prince lost the
greater part of the county of Auvergne, which was taken
from him by his uncle William, assisted by Louis the Young;
and he was left master of only the little canton of which
Vodable is the capital. But he had a son whom he called
Dauphin, on account of Guy, or Guignes, his uncle by the
mother’s side; and from his time his successors, holding
the same petty canton of Auvergne, styled themselves
dauphins of Auvergne, and bore a dolphin for their arms.
Dauphins, or Delphins, in literary history, a name given
to the commentators on the ancient Latin authors, who
were employed by Louis XIV. of France for the benefit of
the prince, under the care and direction of M. de Mon-
tausier his governor, and Bossdet and Huet his precep¬
tors. They were thirty-nine in number.
DAURAT, or Dorat, in Latin Auratus, John, a
French poet, born in the Limousin in 1507. In the reign
of Henry II. he was preceptor to the king’s pages; and
Charles IX. who took great delight in his conversation,
honoured him with the title of his poet; but his generosity
and want of management placed him among that class of
learned men whose familiarity with poverty has long been
proverbial. Conformably to the taste of the age, he had
so much skill in making anagrams, that several illustrious
persons gave him their names to be anagiammatized. Re
also undertook to explain the predictions of Nostradamus,
whom he regarded as a man inspired by heaven, and he
wrote a commentary in Latin and trench on the Centu¬
ries of that pretended prophet. Making verses was a dis-
IV. l*  1—**7r*c» v\vir\f orl nnr fl ul anv
uiicAu £ r -
ease with him ; for no book was printed, nor did any per¬
son of consequence die, but Daurat made some verses on
the occasion, as if he had been poet ordinary, or his muse
bad been a hired mourner to the whole kingdom. _ Sca-
liger tells us that he spent the latter part of his life in en¬
deavouring to find all the Bible in Homer. He died at
Paris in 1588.
DAVANAGIPJ, a town in the south of India, pro¬
vince of Mysore, and district of Chitteldroog. It consists of
500 houses, with a small fort in the centre. It carries on
a considerable trade* and has an extensive manuiactureoi
blankets, called cumbies, which in their fabric greatly re¬
semble English camblets. They form a piece of dress
which the natives of Karnata almost universally wear,
and which is admirably adapted for turning off rain. The
goods exported are betel-nut and pepper; and the returns
are articles from Madras, imported from Europe, China,
Bengal, and the eastern islands; together with salt and a
few manufactures from the Coromandel coast.
DAVENANT, Sir William, a poet and dramatic wri¬
ter of the seventeenth century, was born at Oxford in 16 a.
After some stay at the university, he entered into the ser¬
vice of Frances, first duchess of Richmond, and afterwards
of Fulke Greville, Lord Brooke, who having an excellent
taste for poetry, was much charmed with him. He obtain¬
ed great reputation by writing poems and plays ; and upon
the death of Ben Jonson he was created poet-laureat. tie
wrote the greater part of his poem Gondibert at 1 aris,
but published it in England, where, however, it excitea
but little interest. He formed a design for carrying o
a considerable number of artificers, especially weave ,
to Virginia, having been encouraged thereto by Henrieua
Maria, the queen-mother of England, who obtained lea
for him of the king of France. But he and his comp y
were seized by some parliament ships, and he came \
soner, first to the Isle of Wight, and then to the Tower
London. By the mediation of Milton and others, however,
he was allowed to go about as a prisoner at large, anu y
DAY
DAY
aver
II
Dav
degrees obtained complete liberation. As at this time tra¬
gedies and comedies were prohibited, he contrived to set
up an opera, which was to consist of declamation and
music. This opera commenced in Rutland-house, Char¬
ter-house-yard, in 1656; but it was afterwards removed
to the Cockpit in Drury Lane, and was much frequented
for many years. In 1648, his Madagascar, and other
poems, were printed. He died in 1668. On his grave¬
stone is inscribed, in imitation of Ben Jonson’s short epi¬
taph, “ O rare Sir William Davenant.”
Davenant, Dr Charles, an eminent civilian and writer,
eldest son of the preceding, and educated at Cambridge.
He wrote several political tracts, and likewise plays. In
1685 he was, along with the master of the revels, empower¬
ed to inspect the plays designed for the stage, in order
that no immoralities might be presented. His Essays on
Trade are in high esteem, and were reprinted, in 5 vols.
8vo, in 1771. Dr Davenant was inspector-general of ex¬
ports and imports. He died in 1714.
DAVENTRY, a market-town in the hundred of Faws-
ley, in Northamptonshire. It is an ancient place, situated
near the two rivers Nen and Avon. The only manufac¬
ture is that of horse-whips. There is a good market on
Wednesday. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 2583,
in 1811 to 2758, in 1821 to 3326, and in 1831 to 3646.
DAVID, king of Israel, was born at Bethlehem in 1085,
and died 1014 years before Christ. The history of the
royal Hebrew poet is particularly recorded in the sacred
writings.
David, Jacques-Louis, the founder and greatest painter
of the modern French school, which he brought back to
the study of nature. David was born at Paris in the year
1750, and went in 1774 to Rome, where he devoted him¬
self particularly to historical painting. In this department
of the art he soon began to evince uncommon talents. In
1784 he finished his Oath of the Horatii, which Louis
XVI. had commissioned him to design from a scene in the
Horaces of Corneille. This work gave an impulse to the
national taste. Connoisseurs were lavish of their praises,
and pronounced it unrivalled, and worthy of Raffaelle him¬
self. In the same year he painted his Belisarius ; in 1787
appeared the Death of Socrates, and others followed in suc¬
cession, until his fame rose to the highest pitch. He had
begun to distinguish himself also in portrait painting, and
might have enjoyed a tranquil and brilliant career; but on
the outbreaking of the revolution, he was seized with the
universal mania, and mixed himself up with some of the
most revolting transactions, which, for the sake of the art in
which he excelled, we wish we could pass over. In 1789
he finished a large painting, representing Brutus condemn¬
ing his sons to death. He also furnished the designs of
the numerous monuments and republican festivals of that
time. In 1792 he was chosen an elector in Paris, and after¬
wards a deputy, and during the reign of terror he was
one of the most zealous jacobins, and wholly devoted him¬
self to Robespierre. At the trial of Louis XVI. he voted
for the death of that unfortunate prince. In January 1794
he presided in the convention. After the fall of Robes¬
pierre, he was in great danger, and his fame as a painter
alone stood between him and the guillotine. Amongst the
scenes of the revolution which David strove to immorta¬
lize by his pencil are the murders of Marat and Lepelle-
tier, and particularly the oath in the tennis-court, and the
entrance of Louis into the national assembly. In 1799 he
executed the Rape of the Sabine Women, the masterpiece
of his genius, for the exhibition of which he realized, it is
said, 100,000 francs. In 1804 the emperor appointed him
his first painter, and instructed him to execute four
pieces, amongst which the coronation of Napoleon was
particularly distinguished. Among his finest works of this
peiiod aie many representations of the emperor, particu- David’s, St
laily that in which, as first consul, he is represented on II
horseback on Mount Bernard, pointing out to his troops the I)avila-
path which led them to victory and him to the throne. '~*~y~***j
This piece is now in Berlin. In 1814 David painted Leo¬
nidas, the last work which proceeded from his pencil
befoie he cjuitted 1 aris upon the reverses of his imperial
mastei. When Napoleon returned from Elba he appointed
David a commander of the legion of honour. After the
second restoration of Louis XVIII. he was included in the
decree which expatriated all the regicides. He estab¬
lished himself in Brussels, where he painted Cupid leaving
the arms of Psyche. The last of his productions, Venus"
Cupid, and the Graces disarming Mars, was much admired
at Paris. David died in exile at Brussels, on the 29th of
December 1825. Various opinions are entertained of the
merits of this artist; but the praise of correct delineation
and happy colouring are universally conceded to him. He
found in the history of his times, in the commotions of
which he took an active part, materials for a great number
of his representations; and thus his paintings will have a
value with posterity altogether independent of their merits
as works of art. His most celebrated productions, the Oath
of the Horatii, and the Rape of the Sabine Women, have
been purchased by the French government, and placed
in the gallery of the Luxembourg.
DAVID’S, St, a city in the county of Pembroke, in
South Wales, 267 miles from London. As the see of a
bishop, it has a cathedral, four archdeacons, and nineteen
prebendaries, besides eight vicars choral. It is situated on
the sea coast, on the promontory called St David’s Head.
Opposite to it are five or six rocks, distinguished by the
name of the Bishop and his Clerks, which are highly dan¬
gerous to seamen. The inhabitants amounted in 1801
to 1803, in 1811 to 1816, in 1821 to 2240, and in 1831 to
2388.
DAVIDISTS, Davidici, or Da vid-Georgians, a sect
of heretics, the adherents of David George, a native of
Delft, who in 1525 began to preach a new doctrine, pub¬
lishing himself as the true Messiah, and declaring that he
was sent thither to fill heaven, which was quite empty for
want of people to deserve it. He is likewise said to have
denied the existence of angels, good or evil, and of heaven
and hell, and to have rejected the doctrine of a future
judgment. He rejected marriage, with the Adamites;
held, with Manes, that the soul was not defiled by sin;
and laughed at the self-denial so much recommended by
Jesus Christ. Such were his principal heresies. He made
his escape from Delft, and retired first to Friesland, and
then to Basil, where he changed his name, assuming that
of John Bruck, and died in 1556.
DAVIG, a town of Norway, in the bailiwick of Sondi-
fiord, and province of Bergen, with 1985 inhabitants.
DAVILA, Henry Catherin, a celebrated historian,
was born on the 30th October, at Sacco, a village near Pa¬
dua. He was the youngest son of Antonia Davila, grand
constable of Cyprus, who, on the taking of that island by
the Turks in 1570, had been obliged to retire into Spain,
from which this family supposed that they had derived
their named and origin. From Spain Antonio repaired to
the court of France, and settled his son Louis and two
daughters under the patronage of Catharine de’ Medicis,
whose name he afterwards gave to the young historian.
The little Davila was brought early into France ; and
at the age of eighteen he signalized himself in the civil
wars of that country, and had a horse killed under him at
the siege of Harfleur in 1594. His last exploit there was
at the siege of Amiens, where he fought under Henry IV.
and received in the knee a wound from a partizan. After
peace had been established in France in 1598 he withdrew
636
DAY
Davila.
into Italy, whither he had been recalled by his father, and
afterwards entered into the service of the Venetians. While
at Venice he wrote his admirable work, entitled Historia
delle guerre civili di Francia di Henrico Caterino DceuM
nella quale si contengono le operatwm di quadra re, L >a -
cesco IL, Carlo IX., Henrico III, et Henrico IV., cogno-
minato il grande, in fifteen books, Venice, Tommaso Bag-
lioni, 1630, 4to, which ^ntfinsuevf^thmgT7°-n Yssg till
tice that passed from the death of Henry II. m lo3J till
the peace of Vervins in 1598. He contmued to serve the
republic of Venice with great reputat.on, till an unforW
nate adventure put an end to Ins life m HaPPe"
ino- to nass through Verona with his wife and family on ms
way to Crema, which he had been appointed to defend, and
demanding, according to the usual custom of persons m
his station a supply of horses and carnages for his retinue,
a brutal Veronese Llled // Turco, entered the room where
he and his family were at supper, and being mildly rep
manded for his intrusion by Davila, discharged a pistol at
the historian, by which he was shot dead o« ‘he spo
The accomplices of the assassin also killed the chap1^1.11
of Davila, and wounded most of his attendants. u is
eldest son Antonio, a youth of eighteen, ^^instant
death of his father by killing the murderer on the instant.
All the confederates were secured next morning, and pub¬
licly executed at Verona. . . f n
There is only one opinion concerning the merit of JJ -
vila as a writer. His style is singularly exempt from the
vices which prevailed at that time, and, though less pure
than that of Guicciardini, is more compact and concise,
and at the same time distinguished for its admirable fac
lity. Nor is his manner of disposing and narrating events,
of linking them together, of introducing his personages,
and making them act and speak, and describe places,
towns, fields of battle, feats of arms, assemblies, councils,
and the conduct of negotiations, less commendable than
the qualities of his style. He appears indeed to have
taken great pains to discover the truth, to have derive
his information from the best sources, and to ^ve spo¬
ken in general with much freedom. But this exp c -
ness is sometimes affected by his individual position and
connections, and also by the prejudices of his age and
country. An Italian of this period could not possibly
hold the balance even between the Catholics and 1 ro-
testants. A man who owed the fortune of his sister, of
his brother, and also the commencement of his own, to
Catharine de’ Medicis, and whose very name reminds us
that he had been devoted to her service from the per od
of his birth, could not be an impartial judge of the conduct
of the queen-mother. He has accordingly been censured,
and not without reason, for the partiality which he evinces
towards that bold, bad woman. He dwells upon her ad¬
dress and her prudence, when he should have exposed her
profound dissimulation, her perfidy, and her crue ty in
meditating and preparing, during more than two years, m
masking under deceptive caresses, and, finally, m perpe¬
trating; amidst festivities, the massacre of forty thousand
Frenchmen. In one place, however, he admits that the
effusion of human blood in no degree alarmed Catharine ;
and when, at the end of the ninth book, he has finished the
relation of her death, and the delineation of her general
character, the conscience of the historian at length le-
sumes the empire which it ought always to have exercised.
He then adds that the queen-mother was accused of infa¬
mous bad faith, the common fault, says he, of all times,
but particularly of this age; that she was also charged
with an avidity, or rather a contempt, for the effusion of
human blood, greater than became the tenderness of her
sex, as if such avidity or contempt were naturally chaiac-
teristic of men; and that on many occasions she appeared
DAY
to regard as lawful any means which she judged useful
for accomplishing her ends, however iniquitous or perfi-
dious these might in themselves be. Davila would no
doubt have escaped reproach in regard to Catharine de’
Medicis, if, in describing the different acts of her regency,
he had always depicted her as he has done in this tardy
and reluctant confession. But notwithstanding some
o-rave faults, on which this is not the place to expatiate,
his history remains with all the eminent qualities that dis¬
tinguish it, whilst as to its defects they can no longer be
 The course of
Da:
Da*
Isl;;.
UllgUIMl IL, vviiwoui^ ^ , q,
productive of error or misconception. I he course of ages
restores every thing to its proper place, and, as always
happens after a certain lapse of time, this or that histo¬
rian ceases to have the power of deceiving us in regard to
facts • whilst, on the other hand, facts which are well as¬
certained enable us to judge of the degree of credit due
to the historian himself. . , . ,.
The edition which Davila published of his history was
very incorrect. It is said that he had offered the work to
several publishers of Venice, but that they had all refused
it with the exception of Baglioni, whose presses were idle,
and who undertook to pr'int it, on the condition, however,
that if any preferable employment came in his way, the
printing of the history should give way to it. But when
the edition was finished, it met with so rapid a sale that
the whole was disposed of in a week. It is added that it
was reprinted under the same date, and that 15,000 copies
were sold in the course of a year ; but this appears to be
greatly exaggerated. The editions which followed, Ve¬
nice, 1634 and 1638, Lyons, 1641, and Venice, 1642, were
scarcely less faulty than the first; but a better, and in¬
deed a very beautiful one, issued from the royal press at
Paris in 1644, folio. The work was translated into French
bv J- Baudoin, Paris, 1642, in two yols. folio, a translation
which has been several times reprinted; into Spanish by
Basil Varen de Soto, Madrid, 1651 and 1659; and into Eng-
lish first by William Aylesbury, London, 1647, folio, and
next by Charles Cotterell, London, 1666, folio. Lastly, it
was translated into Latin by Pietro Francesco Cornazzano,
Rome, 1745, in 3 vols. 4to. The best edition of the on-
ginal work, however, is that printed at Venice m 1733,
2 vols. folio. . , i. no
DAVIS, Sir John, an eminent lawyer and poet, was
born about the year 1570. He first distinguished himself
by his poem on the Immortality of the Soul. He became
attorney-general and speaker of the House of Commons m
Ireland^ and afterwards he was appointed lord-chief-jus-
tice of the court of King’s Bench in England, but died
before his installation, in 1626. He published many law
tracts; but he was more esteemed as a scholar and a wit
th Davis, John, a famous navigator in the sixteenth cen¬
tury was born at Sandridge, near Dartmouth, in Devon-
shirc, and distinguished himself by making three voyage
to the northern parts of America, in order to d‘3C^
north-west passage to the East Indies, in which he d
vered the straits which still bear^VTlndie^ in the
wards performed five voyages to the East Indies,
last of which he was slain in a desperate encoun
some Japanese, near the coast of Malacca, on theSJthf
December 1605. He wrote an account of his secon J;
age for the discovery of the north-west passage, a y &
to the East Indies, and several other tracts.
DAVIS’S Island, one of the Philippines about forty
miles in circumference, and situated about t e ;s
gree of east longitude, close to the fom
also the name of one of those numerous ‘sl»"ds ” of the
the Mergui Archipelago at the southern ex X ^
Bay of Bengal. It is about ten miles in circumf ’
belongs to the Burmans, though it is not inha i
DAVY. 637
DAVY, Sir Humphry. This truly eminent man was to make an impression on the valetudinarian inmate of his Davy.
^ born on the 17th oi December 1778, in the small town of mother s house by crude and flippant metaphysical specu- '
Penzance, in Cornwall, of very respectable patents, in the lations. Watt was disgusted, and retired within himselfj
humbler walks of life. In that place he received the ele* until an incidental remark of Davy on the imperfection of
ments of his education, until 1793, when he was removed the French theory of combustion and calcination arrested
to the grammar-school of Truro, then under the direction the attention of the former. They then began to discuss
of the Rev. Dr Cardew. There is scarcely any thing wor- questions congenial to the minds of both, and soon became
thy of record in the early years of Davy, except the fa- attached friends.
cility with which he appears to have gleaned the substance It was through these two gentlemen that the subject of
of any book that happened to engage his attention, and our memoir was introduced to Dr Beddoes, who liad vi-
his early predilection for poetry. sited Cornwall on a geological tour, in company with his
No biography of Davy should omit the disinterested friend and philosophical opponent Professor Hailstone of
friendship of Mr Tonkin, a respectable medical practi- Cambridge. The abilities of Davy were favourably shown
tioner of Penzance. I his amiable man had adopted the during the friendly contentions of these rival geologists;
mother of Davy and her sisters, under circumstances of and their judgment being advantageously impressed by the
deep distress; and his kindness was extended to all her encomiums of Gilbert and Watt, Davy was soon afterwards
children, particularly Humphry, whose intended profes- engaged by Dr Beddoes to superintend a pneumaticmedical
sional career w as probably influenced by that of his friend institution, which that able but eccentric man had just
and patron. then established at Bristol, for the treatment of diseases.
In 1794 Davy lost his father, and his mother found her- After some negociation, Davy, much to his own satis-
self under the necessity of becoming a milliner in Penzance, faction, received the appointment of superintendent, and
whilst young Davy was, in 1795, apprenticed to Mr Bor- repaired to Bristol in 1798, before he had completed his
lase, then practising as a surgeon-apothecary, but who af- twentieth year. Mr Borlase readily gave up Davy’s in¬
terwards became a physician in that place. denture ; but this removal was a severe disappointment to
While yet very young, our philosopher had exhibited Mr Tonkin, who had placed his fondest hopes on seeing
traces of an ardent, inquisitive mind, an inclination for de- his young friend settled as a practitioner in Penzance,
vising experiments, and for examining the productions of Davy was now placed in a sphere where his genius
nature. On entering the service of Mr Borlase, his atten- could expand ; he associated with men engaged in similar
tion was turned to chemical investigations, which he pur- pursuits ; he was provided with suitable apparatus ; and he
sued with a characteristic enthusiasm, to the neglect of the speedily entered upon that brilliant career of discovery
humbler art of compounding medicines. His chief labo- which has rendered his name illustrious among philoso-
ratory at that time was the garret of his friend Mr Ton- pliers. It was not his original intention to abandon the
kin, who was occasionally alarmed and annoyed by unex- study of medicine; but after his engagement with Dr
pected explosions. His defective apparatus was supplied Beddoes had terminated, he had intended to prosecute
by the fertile resources of his own ingenuity. It was dur- his medical studies at Edinburgh; a plan which he was
ing this period that he attempted to investigate the nature induced to abandon by the all-engrossing interest of his
of the air contained in the vesicles of sea-weed; and his chemical discoveries.
ingenuity in supplying his want of more perfect instru- Soon after his removal to Bristol, his speculations on
ments is well illustrated in the facility with which he Heat, Light, and Respiration, appeared in Beddoes’s
contrived to supply the place of an air-pump, by an old “ West-Country Contributions.” In that essay, written
French injecting syringe, which accident put into his before he left Cornwall, he endeavoured to prove the im-
hands. With this he made several experiments, and ac- materiality of heat, by showing its generation from the
tually employed it as an air-pump, in his first original paper friction of two pieces of ice under the exhausted receiver;
on the Nature of Heat and Light. but his reasoning on this point was inconclusive, and his
Davy was not of a temperament or cast of mind tQ re- mode of insulating the ice very imperfect; whilst it is well
main long in obscurity. The panting after scientific re- known that heat will radiate through the most perfect va-
nown had early taken possession of his soul; and while cuum. His speculations on Light and Respiration are ex¬
still the apothecary’s apprentice, and regarding medicine travagant, and savour little of the spirit of philosophical
as his future means of support, he felt aspirations after induction. It was unfortunate for Davy that he had not
distinction in the paths of philosophical discovery; but he a more judicious adviser than Beddoes, a man totally de-
was in some degree indebted for an earlier emergence void of philosophical caution, and easily led astray by the
from the obscurity of his native place, to the accidental loosest analogy.
notice of Mr Davies Giddy Gilbert. The attention of Davy’s first scientific discovery was the detection of
that gentleman had been arrested by the strange contor- siliceous earth in the epidermis of the cannae, reeds, and
tions of countenance of an ungainly boy, whom he observ- grasses. Though the chain of induction be simple, yet
ed hanging over the hatch-gate of Mr Borlase’s house; the steps give a favourable specimen of his method of in-
and on being informed that the boy was “ a son of Davy vestigating phenomena. A child had accidentally dis-
the carver, and very fond of making chemical experi- covered, that on rubbing together two pieces of bonnet-
ments,” he sought the acquaintance of young Davy, and cane, a faint light was emitted; on examining the fact, he
was ever afterwards his steady friend. found, that on striking them together, vivid sparks were
Another accidental acquaintance was not without its produced, like those emitted by the collision of flint and
influence on the fortunes of Davy. The late Mr Gregory steel. On stripping off the epidermis the luminous pro-
Watt, long an invalid, had been recommended by his phy- perty was lost, and analysis showed that the epidermis
sicians to try the mild air of Cornwall, and took up his contained silex. The shining appearance of the stems of
lodgings in the house of Mrs Davy. Their first intercourse reeds, corn, and grasses, induced him to examine them
was not cordial. Watt was taciturn and reserved; and also, and he found that they all yielded silex, even in
young Davy, with that want of tact which is not uncom- larger quantity than the cane.
mon at his age, instead of endeavouring to recommend About the same period he made his first gaseous dis¬
himselfbyshowing his knowledge of any branch of experi- covery, the respirability of nitrous oxide. The fiist inti-
mental or natural philosophy which he had studied, sought mation of its intoxicating qualities is given in a letter to
633
Davy.
DAVY.
his friend Mr Gilbert, dated April 16, 1799. Soon after, and one of forty plates a foot in diameter. With these his Lav
he examined its properties more accurately, administered early and most brilliant investigations were conducted; ^
t to vaHous individuals, and published an account of his and their liberality and his ingenuity were rewarded by
discoveries in a volume entitled Researches Chemical and the discovery of the metallic bases ot the alkalies. _
Philosophical, chiefly concerning Nitrous Oxide and its Re- 1 he first communication of Davy to the Royal Society
SmS This essay breathes a very different spirit from was “ an account of some galvanic combinations formed
Ids first. It exhibits good models of cautious induction by an arrangement of siiiglc me^ lC^
\ . . , j Ciiriwc o han- which was read in June ioOl. Inis paper is the first of
from ingeniously contrive exP? circumstances which that series of electro-chemical investigations which have
py talent for analyzing the different circumstances whicn ^ In all hithert0 constructed piles,
10 FTtunatel/formM^ Davy,'wMe^the impression from the series had consisted of not less than two metals, or of
l ortunateiy mr iYA 1 • , tiie es. 0ne plate of metal, another of charcoal, and some m-
taW ishmen^ofth^ Royal Institution in London, vmder the terpo^ed fluid. He showed in this paper that the usual
tabnsnment or me rtoyai and a lec- galvanic phenomena might be energetically exhibited by
waVwa” Ml S Dr a single Ltallic plate and two strata of different Baids
turei 01 tajent was want g r] discover- or that a battery might be constructed of one metal and
Shears n s'of Davy, and of introducing him to two fluids, provided one of the fluids was capable of cans.
th! notice of the count; and he was, in the beginning of ing oxidat.on on one of the surfaces of the metal Be-
1801 chosen lecturer to the institution, and director of the tween tins communication and his next paper on galvanic
loui, cnosen reciuiei lu phenomena five years elapsed; a period during which
IttoTbeen said, that on his first appearance in London, many interesting discoveries were made by other philoso-
his uncainlv exterior had prejudiced Humford and some pliers; but Davy had not been idle. In 180. he was ap-
o herTectok against him; but when he began to lee pointed professor to the board of agriculture; and, in
turehewon the approbation of all. His lectures became addition to the duties of h,s situation m the Royal Inst,-
1 fadiionable lounge ; his ingenuity and happy facility of tution, to which that ot joint editor of the Journal had
illustration gained him a high reputation; his company been added, he gave a course of lectures on the connec-
was courted8by the choices? society of the metropolis; tion between agriculture land chemistry, which was an-
and soon his presence was regarded as an indispensable nually continued for ten successive years. In 1803 he
requisite in the soireds of the gay, the fair, and the noble, was admitted a member of the Rpya Society, of which
A uMon paid to talent became fashionable; and at the he became first the secretary, and ultimately he pres,-
emlv age oPf twenty-two Davy had triumphed over consi- dent; and he continued to enrich the transactions with
derable personal defects, and found himself the idol of an numerous memoirs on different branches of experimental
aeraoie perbuinu ue , philosophy for twenty-five years. Indeed his most valu-
3 Those who had enjoyed an opportunity of observing able productions are contained in the Philosophical Trans-
him at Bristol, had remarked the simplicity of his mind actions; and it is on these detached papers that his claims
and manner at that period; and they had noticed his ta- to celebrity almost entirely rest. Of his other pubhea-
knt for discussing difficult questions, even where his infor- tions, the Elements of Chemical Philosophy was a signal
mation was exceedingly defective. That the extravagant failure, and only the first volume evei saw the light. His
adulation of the metropolis, so soon after his appearance Elements of Agricultural Chemistry had some popularity,
there, should have been injurious to his native simplicity though they have scarcely added any thing to our p e-
of manner, is far less surprising, than that it did not en- vious stock of knowledge ; but there is scarcely one of
tirely destroy that ardour in research which conducted his communications to the Royal Society which does not
hTm to fame ^ announce some new and important fact, or does not eluci-
Davy’s style of lecturing was well adapted to command date some general principle of experimental philosophy,
the attention of his audience ; it was animated, clear, and He had undertaken to deliver some lectures on he
impressive, notwithstanding the naturally unharmomous principles of the art of tanning, and had been furn
tones of ht vo ce ; whilst the ingenuity of his happily de- With the means of obtaining practical and experimental
vised experiments, and the neatness of their execution, knowledge on the subject In the course of fos Wra-
were calculated to fix the attention of his hearers. How tion for these lectures he discovered some new fact,
much these circumstances are calculated to affect the were first noticed m the journals of the institution, a
usefulness and popularity of a teacher, is well illustrated afterwards embodied in.an elaborate commumcatio
the Royal Society, entitled An account of some experi¬
ments and observations on the constituent parts of certain
astringent vegetables, and their operation in tanning, read
in February 1803. ' T,
In 1805 he read two papers to the Royal Society, ine
by the different impression made on nearly the same au¬
dience by the no less original but more profound lectures
of Dr Thomas Young, which were discontinued by the
committee of the Royal Institution two years after the
Vhe young: chemist was fortunate in the time of his first was An account of some analytic experiments m the
commencing his metropolitan career. Experimental che- whirh he affirmed to consist of aiumine
mistry was beginning to be the fashion of the day, and it
was a very general topic of conversation among the upper
circles. Voltaic electricity had just been found to possess
the most extraordinary powers of effecting decompositions
of chemical compounds ; and innumerable experimental
chemists, aware of the field of discovery which this power- nus to consuiuie uuc u. x..   N- -' ‘ fired
ful instrument promised to open to these researches, were Davy, On the method of analysing stones cowtom £ /
most anxious to possess a powerful galvanic battery. The alkali, by boracic acid,\s really an important at
liberality of the committee of the Royal Institution sup- analytic chemistry. His method is founded on t b
plied what few private individuals could afford ; and early affinity of that acid for different earths at the po
in his first course as professor of chemistry, Davy was put candescence, and on the ease with which these do
in possession of a battery of four hundred five-inch plates, decomposed by the mineral acids.
hrst was Jin account* vj w/nv   -
Wavellite, which he affirmed to consist of alumme ana
water. In this analysis he overlooked the presence o
fluate of aiumine, which was detected in it by the Rev.
William Gregor; and still more unaccountably did both
the British chemists fail to detect in the mineral phos¬
phate of aiumine, which was found afterwards by Berze¬
lius to constitute one third of it. The second paper
D A
We now approach the period of Davy’s great disco-
V veries.
The power of the pile to effect decompositions was
made in 1800 by Nicholson and Carlisle, and immediate¬
ly extended by Cruickshank. The appearance of alkalies
and acids at opposite poles of the battery had been no¬
ticed by different philosophers, but it was reserved for
Davy to connect these discoveries by one general law, and
to illustrate his theory of Voltaic action by some most hap¬
pily devised experiments, in the Bakerian lecture, read
to the Royal Society in November 1806. It wdll be suf¬
ficient to state, that he satisfactorily showed that the
liberation of acid at the positive pole, and of alkali at the
negative pole, proceeded entirely either from the decompo¬
sition of the vessels used in the experiment, the impurity
of the water subjected to analysis, or from the elements
of the atmosphere uniting with the hydrogen or oxygen
of the water to form ammonia or nitric acid. By a series
of very elegantly conducted experiments, he showed that
in all Voltaic decompositions the tendency of the electric
action was to collect the acid of the compound at the po¬
sitive wire, and its bases, whether alkaline, earthy, or me¬
tallic, at the other pole. He proved that such transfers
were not confined to the immediate neighbourhood of the
poles, but extended through the whole galvanic circuit
which connected them; and that even an acid might be
conveyed from <sne wire to the other, through an alkaline,
earthy, or metallic solution, without entering into union
with it, provided the substance transferred did not form
an insoluble compound with the interposed solution.
When it did form an insoluble compound, it was withdrawn
from the Voltaic action, and consequently its transference
was stopped. After examining a great number of such
phenomena, he generalized the results by stating, that
hydrogen, the alkalis, earths, metals, and certain oxides,
are attracted by negatively electrified, and repelled by
positively electrified metallic surfaces; that oxygen and
acids are attracted by positively, and repelled by negatively
electrified metallic surfaces.
After these practical elucidations, Davy proceeded to
investigate the law of electro-chemical action. In repeat¬
ing and extending the researches of Bennet, Cavallo, and
Volta, on the electricity evolved by the contact of bodies,
Davy showed, that substances capable of chemical union
exhibited unequivocal symptoms of opposite electrical
states; that the mutual chemical attraction of the ele¬
ments of a compound are subverted by inducing an elec¬
trical state opposite to that natural to them; while their
chemical union is promoted by increasing their natural
electric energies. Hence he drew the inferences, that
electro-chemical combinations and decompositions are re-
ferrible to the law of electric attractions and repulsions,
and that both “ chemical and electrical attractions are
produced by the same cause, acting in the one case on
the particles, in the other on the masses.”
The whole of this beautiful memoir is a happy example
of most admirably devised experiments, legitimate deduc-
I tions, or ingenious inferences. What is fully established,
is carefully discriminated from what rests on probable
conjecture ; and it raised the reputation of Davy to the
highest pitch. It procured for him not only the willing
homage of his own countrymen, but it was crowned by
the French Institute with the medal of three thousand
francs, founded by the first consul for the encouragement
of discoveries in galvanism; a proud triumph of scienti¬
fic reputation over national jealousy, and the implacable
acrimony of our then national hostility.
I Davy’s next discovery was the most brilliant of all,
though it may be questioned whether it is that which
places his talents in the highest point of view. The de-
V Y.
639
composition of the alkalies by galvanism had been a fa¬
vourite specihation with several philosophers; but the
want of a sufficient power had always opposed an obsta¬
cle to success. Davy had the command of vast galvanic
power, and applied it to this problem. His first attempts
wei e made on solutions of potash, v/ithout effect; his next
efforts were made on fused potash placed on a disc of
p atina, connected with the negative pole, and having its
uppei sui face in contact with the positive wire. The
potash began to fuse; strong effervescence took place at
the positive wire, while metallic globules appeared at the
other, which continued to form, and speedily to burn and
explode with a very bright flame. He soon discovered a
method of repressing their combustibility, by investing
them with a film of naphtha; by which means he was ena¬
bled to collect the metallic globules for examination.
He found that they were so light as to float in every
fluid except recently distilled naphtha; that they had the
brilliancy of mercury; that at the ordinary temperature
of the air they are malleable, and so soft as to be spread
out with a knife ; that this metal melts at about 150° Fah¬
renheit, but at 32° it is a hard crystalline solid, brittle,
and extremely splendent; and that in all its states it is a
perfect conductor of electricity ; in short, that it possess¬
ed every general property hitherto recognised in metals,
except its extremely low specific gravity. The metallic
globules were soon converted into potash in the air; and
when brought into contact with water, or even with ice,
instantly took fire and burnt, giving rise to potash. The
effervescence at the opposite pole he ascertained to be
owing to the evolution of oxygen gas. To the metal thus
obtained he gave the name of potassium. The rapidity
and energy with which potassium attracts oxygen from
almost all bodies, showed that it is a valuable instrument
of analysis in the hands of the chemist. Davy pursued
a similar process with pure soda, and obtained from it a
metal of analogous properties, to which he gave the name
of sodium.
This splendid discovery appears to have been made in
October 1807, was read in November of that year to
the Royal Society; and in the following year the results
of Davy were fully confirmed by Gay-Lussac and The-
nard, who succeeded in decomposing potash by iron fil¬
ings in a red-hot gun-barrel. In the Bakerian lecture of
1807, Davy mentions the probability of the earths having
also metallic bases; but his discoveries were suspended,
and very nearly closed for ever, by a severe illness, attend¬
ed with fever and delirium, which attacked him soon af¬
ter the reading of his second Bakerian lecture, the conse¬
quence of severe bodily exertion and high mental excite¬
ment. In March 1808 hewasable to resumehis labours ;but
during this interval, baryta and lime had been decompos¬
ed by Berzelius and Pontin, who obtained the result by
negatively electrifying mercury in contact with portions
of the pure earths. Their oxygen was thus driven off,
and their bases united into amalgams with the mercury.
These experiments were communicated to Davy, who,
in June 1808, read a memoir on that subject to the Royal
Society. His paper then describes the amalgamation
of strontia, and his process for obtaining the amalgam
from magnesia. Fie also stated that he had succeeded
in obtaining the metal of barytes from the amalgam; that
it was white like silver, of a higher specific gravity than
water, and fluid below a red heat. He attempted unsuc¬
cessfully to decompose argil, silex, and zircon, though the
results showed a high probability of their having metallic
bases. The curious experiment of amalgamating ammo¬
nia had occurred to Berzelius and Pontin, and they had
communicated the result to Davy. This new subject he
pursued with eagerness, and confirmed their results, but
DAVY.
could not succeed in distilling off, as he seems to have ex¬
pected, the compound metallic basis; an idea founded o
analogy, but not very probable. It is needless to discuss
the various conjectures on the nature of the new me a
of the alkalies and earths, to which the discoveries of
Davy gave rise; some of the ablest chemists of the day
considered them as probable compounds of w1^
some unknown bases. This opinion has not denved any
confirmation from subsequent research; and, with rega
to the ammoniacal amalgam, it is now generally regarded,
not as a true metallic alloy, but as a species of mechanical
mixture of ammonia, or its elements, with mercury.
The third Bakerian lecture, read in DecembetrrJf8v°a8;^us
its appendix of next spring, contain an account of various
attempts to effect the decomposition of certain bodies
which had not been resolved into then eleme •
subiects discussed in this paper were handled with his
usual ingenuity; but his success did not equal his own 0
^e public expectation. The only certain result was the
proof that hydrogen could not be obtained by any kno
means from potassium, and that therefore we oug
consider it as a simple body.
In his experiments on ammonia, by the medium of pot¬
assium, he obtained an olive-coloured substance, which he
considered as an amalgam, and appears to have been sa -
guine in the idea that he had decomposed nitrogen in th s
Irocess; but was afterwards compelled to admit his fail¬
ure His next inquiries were into the nature of sulphur,
phosphorus, and carbon, which he suspected to contain
hydrogen, and his experiments led him to believe that
these substances contained minute quantities of both ; but
his conclusions are now considered as erroneous, and the
minute portion of hydrogen obtained is ^ed as due
to the presence of water in the inflammables, or to the
obstinacy with which some of them absorb and retain dif¬
ferent gases. The third subject discussed was the natui e
of boracic acid, from which he obtained a basis, by him then
considered as of a metallic nature ; but he was anticipated
nn this subiect by Gay-Lussac and Thenard, who inves¬
tigated the subject more completely, established the ana¬
logy of the radicle of boracic acid with carbon, and the
substance is now called boron. The other subjeet of in-
ouiry, “ The Nature of Muriatic and Oxymunatie Acids,
is remarkable as an ingenious defence of a theory oftbeir
formation, which he mainly contributed some time after¬
wards to overthrow. . . , rnn
It may be interesting to remark, that the original 500
plate batteries of the institution were so worn in the course
of Davy’s experiments as to be unserviceable; but a 11be-
ral voluntary subscription among the members, in July 1808,
put him in possession of the most powerful Voltaic battery
ever constructed, consisting of 2000 double plates, with a
surface equal to 128,000 square inches. The results, how¬
ever, produced with this stupendous power did not add
one new fact of any importance to science. All Davy s
splendid Voltaic discoveries were made before it was in
use, and it only served to show the phenomena of galva¬
nism with greater brilliancy. u . lonq
The fourth Bakerian lecture, read m November 1809,
contained the same views, and added little to scientific
discovery, though every part of it exhibits the talent and
in-enuity of the author; but in his researches on oxymu-
riatic acid, and on the elements of muriatic acid, we find
Davy overturning the theory he had laboured to defend
in former Bakerian lectures, adducing new proofs of the
oxymuriatic acid being a simple body, and muriatic acid
a compound of that body and hydrogen. .
It had indeed been previously shown by Cruickshank,
that the mixture of oxymuriatic acid and hydrogen, in
equal proportions, produces common muriatic acid; and
the same fact had been more thoroughly investigated by iw
Gay-Lussac and Thenard, who proved that no water is r
formed during the process, and that, in all cases where
oxygen is evolved from oxymuriatic acid, water is always
present, and muriatic acid invariably appears. Davy not
only confirmed and extended the experiments of these
philosophers, but, as it appears to us, has an undoubted
claim to priority in deducing from the facts the legitimate
consequence, viz. that oxymuriatic acid is, as Scheele, its
discoverer, had supposed, a simple body, and that muria¬
tic acid is a compound of hydrogen and that body, for
which he proposed the name of chlorine..
In his Bakerian lecture in 1810, and' in his essay read
February 1811, he considers the changes which these views
render necessary in chemical nomenclature, and announces
the discovery of a compound of chlorine and oxygen, to
which he gave the name of euchlorine, a term which has
been since changed for the more appropriate appellation
oi' protoxide of chlorine, to distinguish it from another com¬
pound of these substances, which he discovered while in
Italy in 1815, and which is termed the peroxide of chlorine.
While on this subject, we may remark, that this latter was
discovered while engaged in a controversy with Gay-Lus¬
sac on the nature of chloric acid, the discovery of the lat¬
ter ; in which, we are compelled to say, neither the temper
nor’the philosophic dignity of our countryman appear to
advantage. .
The reputation of Mr Davy was now at its zenith; and
he was invited by the Dublin Society to give a course of
lectures on electro-chemical science, which he commenced
on the 8th November, and concluded on the 29th of that
month, in 1810, and for which he received 500 guineas.
The Dublin Society, in the following year, invited him to
give two courses, one on the Elements of Chemical PhUoso-
vim, and the other on Geology, for which he was remune¬
rated by a sum of L.750 ; and the Provost and Fellows of
Trinity College did themselves honour by investing Davy
with the degree of LL. D.
In 1811 our author was employed to adopt some means
for ventilating the House of Commons ; a task which he
seems to have undertaken without any previous study ot
the subject; for his attempts were a signal failure, from a
miscalculation of the diameter of the pipes necessary to
carry olf the vitiated and to supply fresh air to so large a
building, and became a source of considerable mortifica¬
tion to himself, as well as of malignant pleasantry to the
witlings of that period. . , „
In the following year, the connection between Davy ana
the Royal Institution was dissolved, by his giving his iare-
well lecture on the 9th April 1812. # f
On the preceding day, he had received the honour ot
knighthood from the hands of the prince regent; and on
the ! 1th of that month he was married to Mrs Apreece,
daughter and heiress of Charles Kerr, Esq. of Kelso, and
the possessor of an ample fortune. t f • Ja
This important step is admitted by his warmest fre
to have produced a change in the deportment of ^ Tj
From that time he seemed to regard patrician ra ,
the adventitious distinctions of society, with no ph o P
indifference ; and he is alleged to have lowered his b
tion to meaner objects than were to be won on t
of scientific investigation. T4limnfirv Davy
During the next two or three years, Sir Humphry D 7
produced little important to science; and we find him tn
following than directing the steps of others. He made
two communications to the Royal Socie y in • ^
first was on Some Compounds of PhosPhorvf neW
phur, in which the most important mat ers are1
definite compounds of phosphorus and chlorine,
position to name all the precipitates from aq
DAVY.
641
Dav;
ryf
hydrats, because he found them to contain water in defi¬
nite proportion. The name was unfortunate, especially as
in the same paper he had proposed the prefix hydro for
compounds into which hydrogen entered as a definite in¬
gredient. In the second paper he described a detonating
compound of chlorine and nitrogen, but which had been
some time before discovered in France. The first, and, as
it proved, the only volume, ever published of his Elements
of Chemical Philosophy appeared in 1812 ; and in the fol¬
lowing year he published his Elements of Agricultural
Chemistry, the substance of the lectures which he had
some years before delivered to the Board of Agriculture.
His paper on fluoric acid read in 1813 to the Royal So¬
ciety, was little more than a confirmation of the analytic
experiments of Ampere, who established that the base of
fluoric acid unites with oxygen to form that acid, and that
acid with boron to form the Jluoboric acid.
In the latter part of 1813, Sir Humphry Davy obtained
the permission of the French emperor to travel in France ;
and in October of that year he went, with his lady and Mr
Faraday, to the Continent. His visit to Paris brought him
personally acquainted with the principal French savans,
among whom he particularly singled out Ampere as his
chosen friend ; but this feeling was at a subsequent period,
we are grieved to say, changed into one of bitter hatred
on the part of Davy; who so far forgot himself as to exert
all his influence to prevent Ampere’s election as a foreign
member of the London Royal Society.
The most remarkable circumstance arising out of Davy’s
visit to Paris was the proof it afforded of his utter want of
any relish for the sublimest productions of the pencil and
the chisel, with which the French capital then abounded.
He was well received by the French philosophers ; he was
honoured by their flattering attentions; but we are con¬
strained to say that he returned their courtesies with an
arrogance and ridiculous affectation of superiority, which
justly offended, and tended much more to lower English
philosophy than to elevate Davy in their estimation. This
was peculiarly unfortunate; for every little feeling of na¬
tional jealousy seems to have been banished from their
minds, and we fear that the odium of want of cordiality
must rest with our countryman. But another act of ill-
judged interference completed the disgust which his ab¬
surd conduct in other respects had excited. Before the
time of Davy’s visit to France, Courtois had discovered
iodine, and Gay-Lussac and Thenard were engaged upon
its properties. Some of that substance was given to Davy
by Ampere, and he immediately began to examine it. On
the 11th of December he offered to the Institute a general
view of its nature and relations, and transmitted to Lon¬
don an account of its properties, which was read to the
Royal Society on the 20th of January 1814. This paper
is introduced with the remark that “ Gay-Lussac is still
engaged in experiments on this subject; and from'his ac¬
tivity and great sagacity a complete chemical history of it
maybe anticipated.” This priority of occupation ought to
have prevented Davy from the ungenerous anticipation.
From Paris Davy proceeded, in the end of December, to
Montpellier, and from thence to Italy by the Col de Tende.
At Genoa and Florence he continued his experiments on
iodine, which he obtained from the ashes of various fusci.
At the latter place he made experiments also on the com¬
bustion of the diamond with the great lens in the cabinet
of natural history ; and he discovered that, after the dia¬
mond has been once ignited, it will continue to burn with
splendour in pure oxygen, though the source of heat has
been withdrawn. Thence he proceeded by Rome to Na¬
ples, where he was engaged on observations on the pheno¬
mena of Vesuvius, and collected specimens of the colours
used by the ancients in their pictures, which formed the
subject of a memoir to the Royal Society. The most in¬
teresting part of this paper is, that the fine blues of the
ancients were formed of silex, soda, and copper ; and that
they may be exactly imitated by strongly heating together
three parts of copper filings, fifteen parts of carbonate of
soda, and twenty of powdered flint, for two hours. After
spending the winter in Italy, he returned on the 23d of
April to London.
The year 1816 is memorable in the history of Sir Hum¬
phry Davy, as that in which he turned his attention to a
method of preventing the dreadful accidents from explo¬
sions of fire-damp in coal-mines. The frequent accidents
in the Newcastle and Sunderland collieries from such ex¬
plosions had given rise to the formation of a society for
ascertaining how they could be prevented ; and the Re¬
verend Dr Gray, the president, requested Davy’s opinion.
After he had visited the mines, specimens of fire-damp were
transmitted to him in London. He began by an analysis
of the gas, and by ascertaining the limits of its exploding
properties. He found that it would not explode when
mixed with less than six times, or with more than four¬
teen times its volume of atmospheric air; that air rendered
impure by the combustion of a candle will not explode fire¬
damp, though the candle will still burn for a time; that if
a candle be burnt in a close vessel, with small apertures
only above and below the flame, no explosion will take
place, even in an exploding mixture ; that in this case the
flame within will be enlarged, but no explosion will reach
outward; and that the gas from mines will not explode
in a tube less than one eighth inch in diameter.1 From
these principles, Davy proposed several different lamps,
some of which strongly resemble the contemporary inven¬
tions of Murray and Clauny ; but all were finally super¬
seded by the simple lamp of Davy, in which a small oil
light was covered by a cylinder of wire gauze.
The introduction of this beautiful invention was for a
time violently opposed by prejudice and passion; but the
experience of the miners of Britain, Belgium, and other
countries, has confirmed its utility and comparative safety.
This triumph of Davy’s genius, exerted as it was in the
cause of suffering humanity, is the noblest monument to
his fame ; and the debt of gratitude is enhanced by the dis¬
interested manner in which his discovery was freely com¬
municated, without any idea of a pecuniary reward. The
coal-owners of Newcastle and its vicinity, impressed with
the important services conferred on them by Davy’s disco¬
very, presented him with a superb service of plate, em¬
bellished with a suitable inscription.
The succeeding years of the life of Sir Humphry Davy,
though they do not present any remarkable discoveries,
were by no means spent in inactivity. The world is usual¬
ly unjust in its anticipations from those who have done
much, and is apt to feel disappointment at any symptom
of relaxation in those who have contributed most to the
public excitement.
In 1815, 1816, and 1817, he read various communica¬
tions to the Royal Society on the subject of fire-damp, and
on the nature of flame, for which he received the Rum-
ford medals. In 1818 and 1819 he produced four me¬
moirs “ On the fallacy of the experiments in which Water
is said to have been produced by the decomposition of
Chlorine,” on “ Some Combinations of Phosporus, “ Obser-
1 This last fact was discovered, however, long before by Grotthus, and was by the late Dr Murray of Edinburgh applied, at the very
time Davy was engaged on the subject, to the construction of a safety-lamp for mines, which may be seen in the Edinburgh Philoso¬
phical Transactions. ■
A V Y.
Davy.
vations on the Formation of Mists over Lakes and Rivers,”
1 “ On Electro-magnetism.” In 1818 Sir Humphry, who
had made some previous experiments on unrolling the
papyri of Herculaneum, was sent by the British govern¬
ment to examine the manuscripts in the Neapolitan mu¬
seum, in order to attempt on the spot their evolution. He
soon satisfied himself that these papyri had not been char¬
red, but altered by the percolation of water, or merely by
the application of tulfaceous ashes. His remarks on them,
contained in his paper to the Royal Society in 1821, aie
highly ingenious, but no success attended his labours,
probably from the unfortunately irremediable condition ot
the Herculanean papyri; but he also hints at obstruc¬
tions thrown in his way by the persons employed in the
museum. During this excursion, he published at Naples
an account of the thermal baths of Lucia, from the waters
of which are deposited silica and oxide of iron, which he
coniectures to have been held together in solution in the
bowels of the earth ; and he inferred that the oxide of
iron was held in solution as a protoxide by silica, which,
with Berzelius, he conceived to act the part of an acid.
In 1820 Davy returned to England, and on the death
of Sir Joseph Banks, in that year, was elected President
of the Royal Society. The opinions of members were di¬
vided between him and Dr 'Wollaston ; but the latter per¬
emptorily refused to be put in nomination, and lent all
his influence to support the pretensions of the former. It
is doubtful how fiir Sir Humphry’s pursuits and tempera¬
ment qualified him for filling this station with advantage
to the society. M ith regard to his high claims to the
distinction, there can only be one opinion ; but unfortu¬
nately he lent himself to the petty cabals of a coterie
during his possession of the chair. His ill-concealed pai-
tiality for the aristocracy of birth over that from which
he alone drew his own rank, the aristocracy of talent ; the
preposterous assumption in his own person, on some occa¬
sions, of a patrician haughtiness, and a neglect of the_or¬
dinary courtesies of society, procured him many enemies;
and when he resigned the chair, he had become one of the
most unpopular presidents that had for years ruled the so-
In the year 1821-22, he continued to make some ex¬
periments on electro-magnetism, and electricity in vacuo,
but in his results he was anticipated by other observers ;
and in his memoir on electrical phenomena in vacuo, he
has not arrived at any definite conclusion, except that
electric light, and attractions and repulsions, may be ex¬
hibited in the most perfect vacuum we can form. In Ins
paper on the fluids contained in the cavities of natural
crystals, Davy showed that these cavities were filled with
fluids less dense than those under atmospheric pressure;
and he thence inferred that such crystals must have had
an igneous origin. In most of his experiments the fluid
seems to have been water; but in some later investiga¬
tions, particularly in those of Dr Brewster, the fluids in
crystals appear to be more varied in their nature.
In 1823 the interesting discovery by Mr Faraday, of
the condensation of certain gases by mechanical pressure,
induced Sir Humphry Davy to repeat the experiment;
and he succeeded, by heating them in strong sealed tubes,
to convert sulphurous acid and prussic acid gases into
liquids. His paper on this subject contains some rather
fanciful conjectures on the probable application ot these
condensed gases as mechanical powers.
In the same year he investigated the cause of the rapid
decay of copper sheathing on ships. Hie subject wras pio-
posed by the admiralty to the president and council of
the Royal Society, and Sir Humphry undertook the in¬
vestigation of the cause, and its remedy. It occurred to
him, that as seawvater only acts on the copper when it is
in a positive state of electricity; if he could render it Da
slightly negative, it would be defended from the action of
sea-water. For this purpose he attached to plates of cop¬
per portions of iron or of zinc, and he had the satisfaction
of finding that they remained unchanged on immersion in
sea-water. He therefore communicated to government,
in January 1824, his discovery of a remedy for the defects
of copper sheathing; and immediate orders were given to
put his scheme into practice on a cutter, while models
were fitted up and floated in sea-water at Somerset House.
These trials appeared so perfectly satisfactory, that im¬
mediately orders were issued to apply plates of iron, or
“ protectors' as they were called, to many ships belong¬
ing to the royal navy; and many merchant-men were fit¬
ted out with the same.
A short experience however showed, that though the
copper w'as protected from corrosion, an unlooked-for evil
of another kind speedily arose. The bottoms of the “ pro¬
tected” ships soon became extremely foul. The negative
state of the copper sheathing favoured the deposition of
the calcareous matter from sea-water, the growth of sea¬
weeds, and the adhesion of enormous lepades and balard
everywhere to the copper ; so as most seriously to impede
the sailing of the ships. This was proved, not only in the
navy, but extensively in the merchant service in London,
Liverpool, and other sea-ports; so that in spite of the ridicu¬
lous attempts of Q. clique of the pretended friends of our phi¬
losopher at first to deny, and afterwards to conceal the facts,
orders were everywhere given to remove the protectors.
This was a severe mortification to Davy, whose temper it
appears greatly to have ruffled. He had read an elabo¬
rate memoir on the subject to the society in June 1825,
and the navy order for the discontinuance of the protec¬
tors followed in July. The infirm state of Sir Humphry’s
health probably increased his irritability; and much of what
has been placed to the mortification of unsuccessful exer¬
tion, and sensibility to ill-applied and unjust sarcasm on
this occasion, ought, in all probability, to be ascribed to the
approaches of disease, that was undermining the constitu¬
tion of the philosopher. In 1826 his health had visibly de¬
clined, and his friends began to perceive that he was with
difficulty able to indulge in his favourite sports of angling
and shooting. On returning to London from Somerset¬
shire he was unable to attend the anniversary dinner of
the Royal Society. In January 1827 he published his six
anniversary discourses on awarding the royal and Copley
medals. Early in 1827 he w’ent abroad, and soon reach¬
ed Ravenna, where he seemed to derive some intermission
of his ailments, which he describes as arising “ from de¬
termination of blood to the brain; at last producing t ic
most alarming nervous symptoms, and threatening the
loss of power and life.” In the summer, to avoid the heats,
he removed to Salzburg, from which city he sent m his
resignation of the president’s chair of the Royal Society,
from a conviction of the necessity of mental and bodily re¬
pose. In the end of autumn he returned to England, and
removed to London in the winter, where he published his
Salmonia in the spring of 1828. This work, though infe¬
rior in interest to the delightful pages of Isaac W alton, m
imitation of which it is written, is yet an interesting per¬
formance. , , . . i
Shortly before Davy quitted England, he communicated
to the Royal Society his paper on Volcanoes, chiefly irom
observations made on Vesuvius in 1820; in which he ad¬
vocates the idea that volcanic phenomena depend on me
oxidation of the bases of the alkalies and earths (an opinio
which was before maintained by Humboldt), while ya y
at the same time thinks that there are strong Pr0° s’f.
the increasing temperature as we descend in mines,
central fire.
DAY
In 1828 Sir Humphry Davy quitted his native country
for the last time, and spent the summer and autumn in
his favourite amusement of angling and in shooting near
Laybach. In the winter he descended into Italy, and fix¬
ed his residence at Rome, whence he sent his last commu¬
nication to the Royal Society, Remarks on the Electri¬
city of the Torpedo, which was written in Illyria in Octo¬
ber. The chief peculiarity of this paper is his finding
that the electricity of the torpedo has no effect on the
most delicate galvanometer, which he ascribes to the tor¬
pedo’s influence being exerted, not in a continued stream,
but in instantaneous and successive shocks; an idea con¬
firmed by the same want of magnetic influence in mode¬
rate shocks from the Leyden phial.
Sir Humphry had suffered from a previous paralytic
attack; at Rome he had another, which greatly alarmed
his friends, and made his wife and his brother hasten to
his assistance. They were soon with him ; and he having
become eager to quit Rome for Geneva, the party set out
by easy journeys for the latter place. On the 28th May
he slept at Chambery, and at three next afternoon arrived
at Geneva, dined heartily at four o’clock, and was unusu¬
ally cheerful. During the night an attack of apoplexy
came on, and he expired at three o’clock in the morning
of the 30th May 1829. His remains were deposited, with
all the honours which a public funeral could bestow, in the
State where he had breathed his last.
A posthumous work, entitled Consolations in Travel, or
the Last Days of a Philosopher, shows a high degree of
fancy, and an almost poetic inspiration; and, whether we
regard the matter or the manner, is an evident offspring
of a bold imagination.
We have sufficiently characterized the various produc¬
tions of this eminent man in our review of his life. We
have alluded to those little infirmities which mix them¬
selves with the aspirations of genius with no unfriendly in¬
tention. They are specks on its bright mirror, which they
do not obscure; but as every thing connected with such
a man belongs to history, they should not be passed over
in silence ; for while the example of his great qualities are
held up to animate the exertions of unfriended talent
struggling with obscurity, the consequences of his infirmi¬
ties may become valuable lessons to check the presump¬
tion of successful genius. (i. i. i.)
DAY, according to the most natural and obvious sense
of the word, signifies that space of time during which it
continues to be light, in contradistinction to night, which is
that portion of time during which it is dark; but the space
of time in which it is light being somewhat vague and in¬
determinate, the time between the rising and the setting
of the sun is usually looked on as the day, and the time
j which lapses from its setting to its rising again as the night.
The word day is often taken in a large sense, so as to
include the night also, or to denote the time of a whole
apparent revolution of the sun round the earth; in which
sense it is called by some a natural day, and by others an
artificial one. But, to avoid confusion, it is usual to call
it in the former sense simply the day, and in the latter a
nycthemeron, by which term the latter acceptation is apt¬
ly denoted, as it implies both day and night. The nyc¬
themeron is divided into twenty-four parts, called hours;
which are of two sorts, equal, and unequal or temporary.
Different nations begin their day at different hours.
Thus the Egyptians began their day at midnight; and
from them Hippocrates introduced that way of reckoning
into astronomy, which Copernicus and others have follow¬
ed; but the greater part of astronomers reckon the day to
begin at noon, and so count twenty-four hours till the
noon of the next day, and not twice twelve, according to
the vulgar computation. The method of beginning the
D A Z 643
day at midnight prevails in Great Britain, France, Spain, Dawlish
and most parts of Europe. II
Ihe Babylonians began their day at sunrise, reckoning L;ize-
the hour immediately before its rising again the twenty-
fourth hour of the day ; whence the hours reckoned in this
way are called the Babylonic hours. In several parts of
Germany they begin their day at sunset, and reckon on
till sunset next day, calling that the twenty-fourth hour;
these are generally termed Italian hours. The Jews also
began their nycthemeron at sunset; but then they divid¬
ed it into twice twelve hours as we do, reckoning twelve
for the day, be it long or short, and twelve for the night;
so that their hours continually varying with the day and
night, the hours of the day were longer than those of the
night during one half year, and the contrary during the
other ; whence their hours are called temporary. Those
at the times of the equinoxes, however, became equal,
because then those of the day and night were so. The
Romans also reckoned their hours after this manner, as do
the Turks at the present day.
This kind of hours is called planetary, because the seven
planets were anciently looked upon as presiding over the
affairs of the world, and as taking it hy turns each of these
hours, according to the following order; Saturn first, then
Jupiter, Mars, the Sun, Venus, Mercury, and last of all
the Moon ; and hence they denominated each day of the
week from that planet whose turn it was to preside over
the first hour of the nycthemeron. Thus, assigning the
first hour of Saturday to Saturn, the second will fall to
Jupiter, the third to Mars, and so the twenty-second of the
same nycthemeron will fall to Saturn again, and therefore
the twenty-third to Jupiter, and the last to Mars ; so that
on the first hour of the next day it will fall to the Sun to
preside, and by the same manner of reckoning the first
hour of the next day will fall to the Moon, of the next to
Mars, of the next to Mercury, of the next to Jupiter, and
of the next to Venus; and hence the days of the week
came to be distinguished by the Latin names of Dies Ba¬
tumi, Solis, Lunce, Martis, Mercurii, Jovis, and Veneris,
and amongst us by the names of Saturday, Sunday, Mon¬
day, &c.
DAWLISH, a town of the hundred of Exminster, in
Devonshire, 177 miles from London. It is one of those
places which have grown from a village to a town since
the fashion of sea-bathing has extended itsfjf. The inha¬
bitants amounted in 1801 to 1424<, in 1811 to 1882, in 1821
to 2700, and in 1831 to 3151.
DAX, an arrondissement of the department of the
Landes, in France, extending over 918 square miles. It
is divided into eight cantons, and subdivided into 112
communes, containing 87,000 inhabitants. The capital,
of the same name, is situated on the river Adour. It is
fortified, and defended by a strong castle, and contain?
1046 houses, with 4398 inhabitants. It is celebrated for
a warm spring in the centre of the town, which is used
for bathing as well as for drinking. Some trade in pro¬
ducts of the soil is carried on through Bayonne. Long. 1.
9.1. W. Laf. 43. 42. 23. N.
DAYMIEL, a small town in the province of New Cas-
tille, in Spain. It is situated near the sources of the Gua-
diana, on the lakes of Ruidera. Near it the Guadiana
runs under ground about twenty-four miles, and suddenly
emerges into the lake called Ojos de Guadiana.
DAZE, in Natural a name given by our miners
to a glittering sort of stone, which often occurs in their
works; and as it is an unprofitable substance, it is one
of those things they call weeds. The word daze, in their
phraseology, includes every stone that is hard and glit¬
tering, and therefore it comprehends the whole genus of
the telangia or stony nodules which have flakes of talc in
644
D E A
Deacon their substance, and which, according to the colour of the
II stony matter they are embedded in, and their own colon ,
Deaconess. give the names of black, white, red, and yellow daze, to
111 DEACON (Diaconus), a person in the lowest degree
of holy orders, whose business it is to baptize, read in tie
church, and assist at the celebration of the euchanst. ihe
word is formed from the Latin diaconus, ot the Lrreek
haxom, minister, servant. Deacons were instituted, seven
in number, by the apostles (Acts, chap, vn), ^ich number
was retained for a long time in several churches. Iheir ot
fice walTto^erve in th^gapm, and to distribute the b^
and wine to the communicants. Another part of the o-
fice of deacons was to be a sort of monitors and directors
to the people in the exercise of their public devotions in
the church ; for which purpose they made use of certain
known forms of words, to give notice when each part of
the service began: and hence they are sometimes called
hierokenikes. the holy cners of the church.
Deacons had, by license and authority from the bishop,
a power to preach, to reconcile penitents and grant them
absolution, and to represent their bishops in general coun¬
cils Their office out of the church was to take care of
the*necessitous, such as widows, orphans, prisoners, and
all the poor and sick who had any title to be maintained
out of the revenues of the church; to inquire into the
morals and conversation of the people, and to make then
report thereof to the bishop. On account of the variety
of business, it was therefore usual to have several deacons
in the same church. , . . , , ’ fr,
In the Roman Catholic church it is the deacon s office to
incense the officiating priest or prelate ; to lay the corporal
on the altar; to receive the patten or cup from the sub¬
deacon, and present it to the person officiating ; to incense
the choir; to receive the pix from the officiating prelate,
and carry it to the subdeacon ; and at the pontifical mass,
when the bishop gives the blessing, to put the mitre on his
head, and to take off the archbishop s pall and lay it on the
altar. In England, the form of ordaining deacons declares
that it is their office to assist the priest in the distribution
of the holy communion; in which, agreeably to the prac¬
tice of the ancient church, they are confined to the adminis¬
tering; of the wine to the communicants. A deacon in Eng¬
land is not capable of any ecclesiastical promotion, yet he
may be a chaplain to a family, curate to a beneficed clergy¬
man, or lecturer to a parish-church. He may be ordained
at twenty-three years of age, anno currente ; but it is ex¬
pressly provided that the bishop shall not ordmn the same
person a priest and deacon in the same day. Deacons, ac¬
cording to St Paul, should be chaste, sincere, and blameless;
neither immoderate drinkers, nor given to filthy lucre:
they should hold the mystery of the faith in a pure con¬
science, and should be well approved before they are ad¬
mitted to the ministry. In the church of Scotland, the
deacon’s office is only to take care of the poor.
DEACONESS, a female deacon; an order of women
who had their distinct offices and services in the primitive
church. This office appears to have been as ancient as the
apostolical age ; for St Paul calls Phebe a servant of the
church of Cenchrea. The original word is haxowg, answer¬
ing to the Latin word ministra. Tertullian calls them vi¬
dua, widows, because they were commonly chosen out of
D E A
the widows of the church ; and, for the same reason, Epi- heacorr
phanius, and the council of Laodicea, called them -rgar. ||
Briihai, elderly women, because none but such were ordi-
narily admitted into this office. For, by some ancient laws,
four qualifications are required in every one who was to ’"v
be admitted into this order: First, that she should be a
widow ; secondly, that she should be a widow who had
born children; thirdly, a widow who was but once mar-
ried; fourthly, one of a considerable age, forty, fifty, or
sixty years old. But all these rules admitted of excep¬
tions. Concerning their ordination, whether it was per¬
formed by imposition of hands, the learned are much divid¬
ed in opinion. Baronius and Yalesius think they were not,
and made no other account of them than as mere lay
persons ; but the author of the Constitutions, speaking of
their ordination, requires the bishop to use imposition of
hands, with the form of prayer which is there recited.
We are not, however, to imagine that this ordination gave
them any power to execute any part of the sacerdotal
office. They were only to perform some inferior services
of the church, and those chiefly relating to the women,
for whose sakes they were ordained, °f their
office was to assist the minister in baptizing women, to
undress them for immersion, and to dress them again,
that the whole ceremony might be performed with all the
decency becoming so sacred a rite. Another part of their
office was to be private catechists to the women-catechu-
mens who were preparing for baptism. They were like¬
wise to attend the women who were sick and in distress ;
to minister to martyrs and confessors in prison ; to aitend
the women’s gate in the church ; and, lastly, to assign all
women their places in the church, regulate their behavi¬
our, and preside over the rest of the widows. Accordingly,
in some canons they are called tfgoxa^va/, or governesses.
This order, which since the tenth or. twelfth century has
been wholly laid aside, was not abolished everywhere at
once, but continued in the Greek church longer than m
the Latin, and in some of the Latin churches longer than
in others. , , ... «
DEACONRY, Diaconate, the order or ministry ot a
deacon or deaconess. , . .
DEAD Reckoning, in Navigation, the judgment or
estimation which is made of the place where a ship is
situated, without any observation of the heavenly bodies.
It is discovered by keeping an account ot the distance s
has run by the log, and of her course steered by the com¬
pass, and^y rectifying these data by the usual a owance
for drift, lee-way, and so forth, according to the ship
known trim. This reckoning, however, is always to be
corrected as often as any good observation of the sun can
be obtained.
Dead Nm. See Asphaltites. .
Deadly Feud, in English law-books, a profcsswnof irre¬
concilable hostility, till a person is revenged b£^e de*
of his enemy. The word feud is derived ^om tlm Ger
man feud, which, as Hottoman observes, s “
helium, modo capitales immiciticB. Such enm ty a
venge were allowed by the law in the time f"
If any man was killed, and. a pecuniary saUsfecbon w
not made to the kindred, it became 1aw^lforthem
take up arms and revenge themselves on the murdere ,
which was called deadly feud.
645
)eaf
Duff
"Y
DEAF AND DUMB.
The education of those unfortunate children who, from
birth or early infancy, have been destitute of the sense of
hearing, and who are therefore precluded from receiving
instruction in the ordinary way, must obviously be attend¬
ed with peculiar difficulties. The senses being the only
inlets to knowledge, and one of the most important of
these inlets being closed, an extensive class of ideas and
of associations belonging to them is totally excluded from
their minds; and, as the principal medium of mental in¬
tercourse does not exist, we are obliged to resort to new
and less perfect channels of communication, and to em¬
ploy peculiar methods and artifices in imparting know¬
ledge. The invention and employment of means calcu¬
lated to attain these purposes constitutes a particular art,
having for its object the instruction of the deaf and dumb ;
an art which, though it has not hitherto been dignified by
any specific appellation, is so highly interesting in a mo¬
ral as well as philosophical point of view, that we conceive
it incumbent upon us to present our readers with some
account of the principles on which it is founded, and of
the methods which experience has shown to be the most
successful.
The proportion of children born deaf, and who must as
a necessary consequence remain mute, was formerly sup¬
posed to be much smaller than it really is; as appears
from the great number of cases which have presented
themselves to notice, since the formation of various esta¬
blishments for the express purpose of their instruction.
The celebrity which the Abbe de I’Epee acquired at Pa¬
ris for his success in this art drew forth into view a mul¬
titude of persons of this description, much greater than
had ever before beer suspected to exist. It was discover¬
ed that about two hundred deaf and dumb persons were
living in Paris alone; a number which, calculating from
the proportional population, would give above three thou¬
sand for the whole of France before the revolution. The
same apparent increase has been remarked in every town
where similar institutions have been formed; whence we
may conclude that this congenital defect is by no means
unfrequent.
It is scarcely necessary to observe, that the incapacity
of speech in such persons as are designated by the term
of deaf and dumb, results altogether from the want of
the sense of hearing, and not from any physical imperfec¬
tion in the organs of speech. Some fanciful writers, in¬
deed, have ascribed it to an alleged sympathy between
the organs of hearing and the organs of speech, by which
the disease or defect of the former is communicated to
the latter; but for this notion there does not appear to be
the slightest foundation. All who are deaf from birth
must necessarily be dumb; that is, they must be inca¬
pable of using language, the sound of which they have
never had the perception of, and which they consequently
could never attempt to imitate. From a strange inatten¬
tion to this circumstance, it was usual, even with parents
who noticed the slowness of their progress in comparison
with other children, to ascribe it to a natural imbecility of
intellect, which, they took it for granted, was equally ir¬
remediable with the organic defect from which it origi¬
nated, and effectually precluded all attempt at instruc¬
tion, and all hope of rendering them useful members of
society. Their minds were accordingly suffered to re¬
main without culture; they were abandoned to them¬
selves, degraded from the privileges of men, and exiled
from the community of rational beings. To such a cul¬
pable extent was this prejudice carried, that it has been Deaf and
the practice in some countries to destroy as monsters all Dumb,
children who remained at three years old incapable of^~Y~w
either hearing or speaking. In France the very birth of
such children was accounted a sort of disgrace to the fa¬
mily from which they sprung; and the duties of humanity
were deemed to extend no further in their behalf, than
to the maintenance of their animal existence, whilst they
were carefully secluded from the eyes of the world, either
within the walls of a convent, or in some hidden asylum
in the country. Abandoned thus early to their fate, and
regarded as little better than idiots, it is not surprising
that their future behaviour should have been such as
might seem to justify the narrow views which had prompt¬
ed this ungenerous treatment. All motives to exertion
being withheld, and all desire of improvement being re¬
pressed, the faculties soon languished, and became para¬
lysed, for want of proper objects on which they could be
exercised; and in time the man sunk to the condition of
the brute.
That the neglect and oblivion to which these wretched
outcasts of humanity were consigned, were founded on
very mistaken notions of their mental powers, has since
been fully proved by a great number of instances in which
the exertions of benevolent and persevering instructors to
convey to them knowledge of various kinds have been
crowned with the most signal success. Yet the enter¬
prise has still appeared one of the boldest and most ar¬
duous that could well be attempted, and every instance
of success excited much astonishment even in persons of
great knowledge and scientific attainments. So impressed
was Dr Johnson, for example, with the notion of its ex¬
traordinary difficulty, that he represents the education of
the deaf and dumb as a great philosophical curiosity. The
study of the means by which these effects are produced
must therefore be highly curious in itself, as throwing
light upon that science, which is interesting above all
others, namely, the science of the human mind. But it
has yet a higher claim to our attention, as being directed
to a purpose of great and immediate practical utility.
What object can be more worthy of praise, or more con¬
genial to a benevolent heart, than the redemption of a
kindred spirit from the degraded and forlorn condition to
which it appeared to have been doomed ? What occupa¬
tion can be more delightful in itself than to awaken the
dormant powers of the mind, to usher a new world to its
acquaintance, to furnish it with the instruments and ma¬
terials of thought, to open unbounded channels of inter¬
course with the living and the dead, to inspire the soul
with fresh powers as well as motives to exertion, and, by
supplying unlimited sources of intellectual and moral im¬
provement, to place within its reach the purest and most
elevated enjoyments of which our nature is susceptible ?
Before entering into the detail of the particular me¬
thods adapted to convey instruction to the deaf and dumb,
it will be necessary to inquire more precisely what is the
general end we should propose to ourselves in their edu¬
cation, and what are the leading objects to which our en¬
deavours ought, in conformity with this end, to be direct¬
ed. And it appears to us, that the great and fundamen¬
tal object should be, to qualify our pupils to hold ready
communication with the rest of the world, that is, with
persons who, having the faculties of hearing and speech,
employ the current language of the country for purposes
of mutual intercourse. They must, above all things, be
6-16
DEAF AND DUMB.
Deaf and taught the use of ordinary language, both as an instru-
Dumb. ment for expressing their own thoughts, and for under-
standing those of others. This qualification, it is evident,
is absolutely essential to their becoming members of that
community from which, by nature, they would have been
excluded, and to which it is our chief aim to restore them :
it is essential to their deriving advantage from, or being
of any utility to that community, a reciprocation of inte¬
rests in which consists the true value and dignity of hu¬
man nature. It is the only foundation on which they can
hereafter build any solid acquirement. Once masteis or
language, they possess the key to all the sciences, and
have access to every species of human knowledge; and
their future progress will be proportional to their own di¬
ligence, and will be impeded by no obstacles except those
which their own exertions are competent to remove. .
Language, or the ordinary medium of communication
between men, is either spoken or written. To enable the
deaf and dumb to speak, so as to be perfectly understood
by others, and to enable themselves to understand leadily
what is said by persons speaking to them, is doubtless the
ultimate stage of perfection in the art which we are con¬
sidering, and would in fact be nearly equivalent to a re¬
storation of the privileges which nature had refused them.
But whether we regard such perfection as attainable, and
as worth the pains requisite for success, or whether we
limit our views to more moderate qualifications, the know¬
ledge of written language must still be an indispensable
preliminary in every system of education. Let us first,
therefore, direct our attention to the means of communi¬
cating to the deaf and dumb this fundamental acquisition.
For this purpose it will be necessary to have a clear view
of the real nature of the class of ideas we are proposing
to instil into the mind of our pupil, and of the real condi¬
tion of that mind by which they are to be received.
Speech, being the expression of ideas by oral sounds
formed into words, is by far the most ready and universal
mode of communication among mankind, and must there¬
fore have long preceded the invention of written language,
which has accordingly been formed upon the model of
speech. Writing, instead of being the direct sign of ideas,
as is the case with hieroglyphical characters, or, more pro¬
perly speaking, rude portraits of external objects, consists
of symbols of the particular sounds composing oral lan¬
guage. Written words are in fact the signs of other signs ;
the one set of signs being addressed to the ear, and the
other to the eye. The perceptions of hearing are inter¬
mediate links of association between the visible appear¬
ances of the written characters, and the ideas they are
intended to convey to the mind. This circumstance is the
source of the principal difficulties which stand in the way
of all instruction to one who is deaf and dumb, one in
whom these intermediate perceptions can have no exist¬
ence, whilst a very different process must be employed for
establishing in his mind a connection between ideas and
certain signs; because, for want of this step in the pro¬
cess, he is incompetent to trace any regular correspon¬
dence or appropriate adaptation of these signs to the ideas
they are designed to represent, do an ordinary child,
whose ear is already familiar with the name of an object
as spoken, and in whose mind the association of the sound
with the corresponding idea is firmly established, the
learning the use of the letters expressive of such sound is
a comparatively easy step in his education. Ihe infant
lisping for the first time in broken and faultering accents
the endearing name of its parent and its nurse, has in fact
made a prodigious stride ; he has already entered into hu¬
man society, and has begun to participate in its blessings.
His stock of words daily increases; he feels the value of
his new acquisition; his ideas multiply; his powers are
developed. Pleasure animates his efforts, and attends Deaf:
every stage of his progress. To learn his native tongue Du®;
•   . 4-tirh a f he* Jaqc 1 Anrrmr] ic oxror n P’_■! v 
I t,
is a sport; to repeat what he has learned is ever a fresh w
source of delight. The mighty task is accomplished with¬
out any extraordinary interference on the part of the in¬
structor, or laborious effort on that of the pupil. Who
would dream of appointing a master to supersede nature
in teaching the infant to speak? In this act, as in that
of walking and running, the scholar of nature, where all
around unconsciously aid her in the work, will be found
the best proficient. Far different is the lot of that hap¬
less and solitary being, who, born without the sense of
hearing, is doomed to eternal silence, and is shut out from
the inspiring influence of social intercourse. Debarred
from the chief avenue to information at this early and cri¬
tical period of his intellectual growth, the blandishments
of his nurse, the caresses of his parents, the accents of
praise or blame, the cry of pain or pleasure, in vain salute
his ear. He is already but half a human being. Insu¬
lated from the main portion of the world, he must live
chiefly within himself; his untutored mind must be left to
its own slender resources in the acquisition of knowledge;
and his progress must therefore be both slow and limited.
He is an eagle whose unfledged wings have been clipped,
and who stalks on the ground, unconscious that his inhe¬
ritance lies in another element.
So deeply rooted do the associations become, which
are thus established in our infancy, between ideas and
sounds, that we cannot easily perceive how much we have
owed to them, and how much of our subsequent acquisi¬
tions has been founded upon them; nor can we readily
place ourselves in the situation of a child bereft of these
advantages, so as to understand the nature and force of
the difficulties with which he has to contend in every step
of his progress. We might suppose, if we had not at¬
tended to these considerations, that the whole business of
the tutor of the deaf and dumb would be to point out the
words to his pupil, while he, by some other means, commu¬
nicated to him the ideas of which they are the represen¬
tatives. It might be presumed that, by frequent repeti¬
tion of the same process, the pupil could not fail to learn
to connect the two together in his mind, and that he would
have no occasion to Trouble himself with whatever sounds
the rest of the world might associate with these written
characters; sounds which, as to him they have no exist¬
ence, so neither do they anywise concern him ; and which
may be regarded but as useless stepping-stones in form¬
ing a communication which he is enabled to accomplish
at a single stride.
If such be the illusions into which a prejudice natural
to every one tends to betray us, a little reflection on the
laws by which associations between ideas are established
in the mind will be sufficient to dispel them. There is
manifestly a great difference in the comparative facility
with which ideas of different kinds become associated in
the mind ; and since memory consists in the strength and
permanence of the associations, there is consequently a
great difference in the facility with which different kinds
of ideas become impressed and retained in the memory.
Some ideas unite immediately, as by a natural affinity,
and cannot afterwards be disjoined. In other cases the
connection is remote and difficult, and the ideas, like
grains of sand, refuse to adhere together. Some inter¬
medium must be found, which may cement and conso
lidate their union. Some analogy or relation must con¬
nect every new idea with a former idea already existing
in the mind, before it can become the subject of recol¬
lection. The facility with which such connections can
be formed will depend much upon the number and va¬
riety of ideas already in store, as well as upon the ease
DEAF AND DUMB.
Deaf <1
Du |'
with which the successive transitions can be made from
to another. In casual and apparently arbitrary as-
647
one
sociations, there exist always a number of invisible links
that compose the chain of connection; and the facility
with which these links can be formed determines the
readiness of the association. We recollect a new name
that we see written, from its resemblance to some other
name previously known ; but it is by means of the sound
which it would have when pronounced that this associa¬
tion is effected. That this is the case will soon become
apparent, when we reflect on the difficulty experienced in
retaining new and barbarous words, of which the pronun¬
ciation is difficult or grating to the ear. That we learn
them by the ear more than by the eye, is also shown by
the difficulty we should find in recollecting an arbitrary
combination of the same number of consonants, which
would of course not admit of being pronounced as a word.
We should in this case be driven to the expedient of in¬
terposing vowels, in order, as it were, to give them breath,
and transfer the task from the eye to the ear; although
it is evident that the addition of these vowels would in¬
crease the number of things to be remembered. All this
will appear in a still stronger light, if we impose upon our¬
selves the task of learning by heart a set of characters
equally familiar to us with the letters of the alphabet, but
which do not afford a similar resource, at least not in so
direct a manner. Let us, for instance, open a book of lo¬
garithmic tables, and try to learn a page or two by heart;
we shall soon be sufficiently convinced of the arduous na¬
ture of the undertaking. Just so it is with the deaf and
dumb. The printed letters of a book are to them so many
separate ciphers, distinguished indeed from each other
by their form, but having no perceptible medium of asso¬
ciation, and of which the apparently endless variety of
combination, like those of the figures of logarithms, are
sufficient to perplex the most sagacious observer, and
baffle the most retentive memory. To them all distinc¬
tions into vowels and consonants, into long and short syl¬
lables, all the varieties of metre, and all the harmony of
verse, have no existence; these belong to creatures of
another world, from which they are doomed to an eter¬
nal exclusion. No wonder, therefore, that their own un¬
tutored efforts should be utterly inadequate to give them
the remotest conception of the use of language ; and that
the records of history have never exhibited to us a single
instance of a person deaf from birth, or even having lost
the hearing at an early age, who has taught himself to
read or write a single word.
But the deaf and dumb child lies under the further dis¬
advantage of possessing a smaller stock of ideas to set out
with than other children. His faculties of observation
have been less called into play, and the sphere of their
operation has been more limited. The task of the in¬
structor is, in this instance, analogous to that of the agri¬
culturist who redeems a savage land, which the plough
has never loosened, and where the soil has not been fer¬
tilized by previous vegetation. He has to sow the first
seed it has yet received, and must wratch with anxious so¬
licitude every stage of its growth and fructification. De¬
prived at the outset of the ordinary resources of commu¬
nication, what means are we to employ in order to awaken
the attention of our pupil, and how can we make him sen¬
sible of the object of our endeavours, and animate him to
those exertions which are necessary to their success, and
which habitual indolence have probably rendered difficult
and irksome ?
But resources yet remain; and art has triumphed over
all these obstacles, numerous'and formidable as they may
appear. The deaf and dumb child has in truth still the
Means of acquiring a large stock of ideas of a certain
c.ass, and has a certain range of expedients by which he Deaf and
communicates with others. When we read the exagge- Dumb,
rated statement which some authors have given of the
deficiencies of such children, we can easily discern the in¬
fluence of preconceived theory in distorting obvious facts,
and the false colouring which they have derived from a
vivid imagination. “ What,” says Sicard, “ is the condi¬
tion of the deaf and dumb child considered in himself,
and before any species of education has begun to establish
connections between him and the rest of his species, or
with that great family to which he appertains by his'ex¬
ternal form ? He is a perfect nullity in that community ;
a living automaton; a statue like the one imagined by
Bonnet, and after him by Condillac; a statue in which
every sense in succession has yet to be unlocked, and di¬
rected to its proper objects, in order to supply the want
of that one of which he is so unhappily deprived. His ac¬
tions being limited to mere physical movements, prior to
the removal of the envelope which cramped and confined
his reason, he is not endued even with that instinct which
is allotted to the brutes, and which is their only guide.
He is therefore to be considered merely as a kind of walk¬
ing machine, of which the organization, with regard to the
effects that result from it, is inferior to that of animals,
io denominate him a savage, is to assign him a higher
rank than appertains to his miserable condition; for he is
not even on a level with the savage, either in moral rela¬
tions, wdiich, to a certain extent, exist among all savages,
or in means of intercourse with his fellow-creatures. With
regard to the latter, indeed, he is much inferior to the
savage, who can always communicate with others by lan¬
guage, however rude and inarticulate may be the sounds
which compose it. These sounds are the means of fixing
ideas in the mind, and afford the medium of comparison
among those ideas, whence result combinations, judg¬
ments, and reasonings. Being destitute of these means
of communication, and of these signs which fix and de¬
termine the power of recollection, all the impressions
he receives are transitory, and the images fugitive; no¬
thing remains in his mind to which he can refer wdiat is
passing within him, and which can serve as a term of com¬
parison. His ideas can only consist of such as result from
direct impressions; none can be derived from reflection.
So that, being unable ever to combine two such ideas to¬
gether, for want of the signs by which they could be laid
hold of and retained, it is impossible for him to arrive at
even the simplest process of reasoning.” Condillac had
already advanced the same doctrine, and had even gone
the length of asserting that the deaf and dumb from birth
could have no power of memory, because they were de¬
prived of those artificial signs by which alone the associ¬
ations could be fixed and rendered permanent. He com¬
pares their minds to those of brute animals, and even be¬
lieves that they are equally incapable of carrying on any
train of reasoning.
But the results of observation are quite at variance with
these conclusions, derived from speculative reasoning. The
real education of the deaf and dumb child, like that of him
who is possessed of hearing, may be said to commence
from the period of its birth. Dr Watson judiciously ob¬
serves, that “ persons born deaf are in fact neither de¬
pressed below nor raised above the general scale of hu¬
man nature, as regards their dispositions and powers either
of body or mind. They are human beings, individually
differing from their kind only by an accidental defect.
This defect is not such as to disturb the course of nature
in the first stage of the growth of the mental faculties,
though, while it operates as a bar to the acquisition of lan¬
guage, it retards and almost precludes their expansion
after this stagb.” The whole of the visible and tangible
648
DEAF AND DUMB.
Deaf and worlds are still open to them; hearing at so early an age
Dumb. can give them comparatively but little assistance m ac
    quiring the knowledge of external objects ; and it is al¬
ways some time before the discovery is made of their be-
ino- insensible to sound. Still their sensibility expands;
their affections are called into play; their passions are ex¬
cited nearly as in other children, though the means may
be somewhat different. The visible marks of attention the
child receives from those around, their caresses, the
smiles, and their frowns, all make their Responding im¬
pressions on its tender mind; it lives in the looks of those
on whom it is dependent. Its whole attention being turn¬
ed to the study of these visible appearances, the only lan¬
guage which it has to learn, its proficiency in the interpi e-
tation of these appearances is comparatively greater. The
gestures of its parent it acknowledges by responsive gesti¬
culations, and expresses in this primitive language of na^
tm-p all its feelings, conditions, and passions, rar from
beino- tile living automaton delineated in the closet by
theoHsing metaphysicians, it differs but little in early m-
fancy from other children; and has even some advantages
in the superior quickness of the eye, m the moie expres¬
sive play of the features, and in the more ready apprehen-
sion of the slightest look or gesture it observes in others.
It is remarkable, indeed, that the defect of hearing i g
nerally not discovered till at an advanced period. Though
the child remains mute, the real cause is not readily ac
knowledged. Doubts and fears may indeed be entertain¬
ed; but hope is kept alive by parental fondness, and in¬
spires a thousand excuses. A year or two thus slips away,
when it is gradually remarked, that when a want is to be
made known, or an approval or aversion expressed, it is
done by a motion of the hand, head, or countenance; and
in place of the loquacious and engaging prattle usual at
his age, there is silence, or only inarticulate sounds. I
times he is pensive and cheerless, no doubt feeling t re
disappointments necessarily resulting from incapacity to
make himself fully understood by those about him, who,
possessing a more perfect medium of mental intercourse,
are too apt to be inattentive to the signs and gestures of
the little mute. Yet his mind, instead of presenting a
total blank, is in fact furnished with a multitude of ideas,
arranged indeed after his own peculiar method, but still
affordin°- an extensive foundation for future attainments.
Already has he established a species of intercourse with
those around him, by the language of pantomime, derived
from nature, and improved by his own ingenuity. Aheady
does this simple language comprehend the use of nouns,
pronouns, verbs, and above all interjections, though he is
totally unconscious of the nature or existence of these
grammatical distinctions ; just as he has moved and jump¬
ed without being aware that he was effecting these ac¬
tions by means of muscles and tendons, ligaments and
bones. „ , . . „ . ■
It is therefore in the study of this species of pantomime,
which is the native language of the deaf and dumb, that
the first duty of the instructor consists. He must, in truth,
begin by taking lessons from his pupil, and condescend to
learn his language, in order to qualify himself for teaching
him his own. He must study to familiarize himself with
this language, by frequent intercourse with his pupil, and
engage his affections by repeated offices of kindness. No
better preparation can be devised for the exercises which
are to follow, than this intercourse of the heart and inter¬
change of confidence. Curiosity, a principle of action in
which deaf and dumb children are generally by no means
deficient, and which the judicious tutor will be careful to
stimulate and sustain, will give him a strong hold in di¬
recting their exertions. On the other hand, they are very
apt to be discouraged by the consciousness of their own
inferiority, and are thrown into despondency at the idea
of the immense interval which they feel must ever sepa¬
rate them from others. This feeling it is our duty to
soften as much as possible, by removing the occasions
which may give rise to it, and diverting the attention to
more cheering views of their own powers, and to the pros-
pect of their advancement. Perhaps it is even better, in
many cases, that the truth should be in some degree dis¬
guised, and that they should be left, at least at first, in
ignorance of the extent of the disadvantages they labour
under. For this reason, we should not be disposed to adopt
the plan practised by the Abbe de 1 Epee, in older to ex¬
plain to them the nature and uses of that sense which
they do not inherit. The expedient which he hit upon
for this purpose may be briefly described. Having col¬
lected his pupils round a large tub full of water, which was
allowed to subside till perfectly at rest, he let fall into it
perpendicularly an ivory ball, directing their attention to
the undulations of the water, which struck against the
sides of the vessel. He then moved a hand-screen back¬
wards and forwards rapidly in a room, so as to put in mo¬
tion-feathers, or other light bodies, floating in the air at
some distance ; and explained to them that the loom is as
full of air as the tub was of water, and that the air set in
motion strikes the sides of the room, as the waves did
those of the tub. He next took up a repeating watch,
and applying the fingers of his pupils to the hammer,
made them feel the rapid succession of strokes which it
produced. He now informed them that the eai of every
person contains an apparatus of the same kind; and that
the air, in its passage from the body which has set it in
motion, enters the ear and sets in motion the little ham¬
mer which is placed there. He gave his pupils to under¬
stand, that the reason why they do not hear is because
they have no such hammer in their ears, or because its
motions are impeded, or the part on which it strikes is
void of sensibility. “ Whenever,” says he, “ I have given
this explanation, I have observed it to make very different
impressions on different individuals. Some expressed
great delight at having acquired the knowledge of what
hearing consisted in. Others became affected with pro-
found melancholy on learning that either they were des¬
titute of so useful an instrument as this hammer, or that
the one they had could not be used. The first two girls
to whom this information had been imparted could not
conceal their ill-humour on finding that the house-cat and
the canary bird had each their little hammers in the ears,
while they themselves had none.”
The first and most important lesson to be taught to our
pupil is, that written words have a meaning, and suggest
to all persons of education the same definite idea, m
teaching him the meaning of words, we should follow as
much as possible the natural order in which they are ge¬
nerally acquired by those who have the sense of hearing.
The first and simplest kind of knowledge is that which
relates to the material world. We must commence, there¬
fore, by instructing him in the names of external objects,
beginning with those that are best known to him, and o -
tenest recur to his view. The name of an object o
kind, such as hat, may be written in large letters on »
board; and the attention of the child being directed
ternately to the name and to the object itself, w i
be presented to it at the same time, he will gradR
brought to understand that a certain relation exists ne
tween them, though what that relation is, we are no
expect that he will as yet be able to comprehend, in
idea of this relation will become more distinct when a ^
milar process has been followed with regard to ^
other names. Occasionally we may find it diffic h
convey by this means the least notion that the one
1st
DEAF AND DUMB. 649
.:d sign of the other; the child being unable to conceive how
i what appears to him to be an irregular collection of crook-
f-'/ ed lines, bearing no resemblance in form to the object
pointed out in connection with them, can serve as its type.
Experience, derived from the observations we may lead
him to make, will, however, gradually teach him this les¬
son. Sufficient has been done to excite his attention; let
us now, in his presence, call upon other children, more ad¬
vanced in their education, to direct their eye upon these
mysterious characters, of which the immediate conse¬
quence will be their pointing to the object. The effect
produced by the word will be observed by the attentive
pupil, and wall make its due impression. Let three or
four words be written at the same time on the board, and
the corresponding objects placed on an adjoining table.
On each of these words being pointed out to the advanced
child, he will bring the proper article from the table. We
shall now have an opportunity of ascertaining how far the
proceeding has been understood by the younger pupil, bv
repeating the experiment on himself. If he lay hold of
the proper object, it is clear that qur meaning has been
understood, and that the first step, the most difficult of
all, has been accomplished.
Care must all this while be taken that our pupil impute
not to any circumstance or quality in the words shown to
him, different from that of their form, the significancy
which he finds them to possess. We must show him, for
instance, that their particular situation on the board is not
the circumstance from which it derives its meaning. This
we can do by changing the order of the words, or by writ¬
ing them on paper, and in different modes, preserving al¬
ways the same precise form of the letters. It is evident
that in these preliminary exercises we should give the
preference to very short words, such as box, pen, shoe,
cap, ring, and the like. The association between the name
and the object should be strengthened by frequent repeti¬
tion, and also by occasionally varying the mode of im¬
pressing it. The process we have just described, for in¬
stance, should sometimes be reversed, the child being re¬
quired to point out the name when the object is shown to
him. In fact, we should neglect no means of assuring
ourselves that we are fully and perfectly understood, and
that the associations wre are labouring to establish are
firmly rivetted in his mind.
We are, however, by no means to trust to a single asso¬
ciating principle in establishing these essential connec¬
tions; we should multiply as much as possible the liga¬
ments which compose the union. The child, while learn¬
ing written words, should be made to copy them himself,
so that, by dwelling upon their forms sufficiently, they
1 may make an indelible impression on his mind. We should
, from time to time show him the objects, and require him
to write their names himself. In these preliminary lessons
it is obvious that much assistance may occasionally be de-
i rived from drawings of the objects we may wish to point
out, but which may not be immediately' at hand. The
Abbe Sicard has availed himself, wfith much ingenuity', of
this mode of denoting objects as an introduction to the
use of written words.
He begins, for instance, by tracing the outline of a fa¬
miliar object, such as a key, on a black board, with a chalk
pencil; and placing the object itself before the eye of his
pupil, he will readily understand the resemblance of the
design with what it is meant to represent. He does the
same with otl^er objects, and exercises his pupil in point¬
ing out the objects denoted by each drawing, which of
course is to him a mere amusement. He next writes the
i name of each object within the outline of the figure on
the board, and, after effacing the outlines, so that nothing
hut the words remain, signifies to the pupil that he is still
VOL. VII.
to consider what he now sees as the representation of the Deaf and
drawing, that is, of the object denoted by the drawing. Dumb.
These methods, which are susceptible of variation accord-
ing to circumstances and the ingenuity of the instructor,
are to be understood as applicable only to the early les¬
sons ; for, after the pupil has once thoroughly understood
the value and use of words, all the drawings on the slate
should be laid aside, and the more useful medium of writ¬
ten language should be exclusively resorted to.
With regard to the choice of objects, of which the names
may compose the first lessons, we should select those to
begin with which are of immediate interest and utility,
such as the different parts of the body, articles of dress
and of furniture, and common instruments in most fre¬
quent use. We should see that every' thing that is learn¬
ed is learned perfectly, by frequently going over the same
lesson, so that they may all be deeply engraven on the
memory. We must recollect that repetition is the prin¬
cipal means of impressing the memory; and this is the
more necessary in the case of the deaf and dumb, as a
principal barrier to their acquisition of language consists
in their having few means of reviewing words and phrases
but by' direct instruction or prescribed study.
But our pupil is not always confined to his apartment;
and he can hardly take a step beyond its threshold with¬
out meeting with something that he knows very well by
sight, and of which it will be useful to him to know the
name. We cannot remove it into our school-room, to
teach him its name there; nor can we very conveniently
carry our writing tablets with us on all occasions. En¬
gravings of such objects will, however, readily supply us
with the means of extending our instructions to them
also, and, by furnishing us in small compass with the lines
that bound their visible appearances in perspective order,
will enable us to preserve the remembrance of them, and
to keep them in readiness for every purpose. Association
will at once recall to our minds the properties that mani¬
fest themselves to our other senses, and enable us to
read and interpret this picture-language as we would any
other collection of artificial signs. A vocabulary, on the
plan originally recommended by Locke, consisting of
“ those words standing for things which are known and
distinguished by their outward shapes, accompanied by
draughts and prints,” will therefore be of great utility,
and shorten the labour both of the teacher and learner.
For this express purpose, Dr Watson has had a set of
plates engraved, containing delineations of objects most
generally met with and commonly known. These engrav¬
ings are annexed to his book of Instruction of the Deaf and
Dumb, and represent above six hundred different objects,
being comprised in eighty octavo pages. They are ac¬
companied by a printed vocabulary, consisting of the names
of all the objects thus represented, as also of most of the
words explained in the earlier lessons, before the engrav¬
ings are had recourse to. The first time of going through
this vocabulary, the heads or generic names under which the
objects are classed are not regarded ; but, in a subsequent
revision, these are particularly attended to, and their rela¬
tions to the subordinate specific names are fully explained.
The analysis of words into letters is the next step of
importance in the early education of the deaf and dumb.
It should follow almost immediately upon their complete
comprehension of the use of words. They should be
shown, as soon as they have learned a small stock of
words, that these words are formed from a certain limited
number of characters, or letters of the alphabet. Various
modes of familiarizing them with this knowledge may be
adopted. One of the most simple is, to have each letter
written on a small piece of card, of which a number, dis¬
posed in parcels, and arranged in proper order, may be
4 N
r
650
DEAF AND DUMB.
Deaf and contained in a box. After making the child observe a
Dumb, written word that he already knows, we should point out
to him the first letter, and take out the same letter
from the box ; then indicating to him the next, we may
conduct his hand to the proper letter in the box, and
continue this operation till the word is completed. He
will soon reject our assistance, and seek the letters for
himself. By practising a little in this way, he will
very soon have learned the alphabet, and will understand
its use, and will be able, of his own accord, to compose
known words with the letters Urns furnished him. e
must all this time he diligently exercised in writing, so
as to acquire facility in forming and joining letters in a
running hand. He must he taught the various forms ot
letters, according to the different ways in which they are
used, and the purposes to which they are applied. 1 ie
capital, small, and double letters, both in the Roman and
Italic types, must be perfectly learned, by frequent and
daily practice. Writing being an operation to which deaf¬
ness offers no impediment, nothing particular need be said
respecting the method of teaching it. It is proper how¬
ever, to remark, that it cannot be taught too early, as,
agreeably to the observations formerly made, every varia¬
tion in the mode of exercising the attention to any set ot
objects is of material assistance to the memory ot those
objects. .
It will also be advantageous to instruct our pupil, as
soon as he is familiar with the use of letters, in anotlmr
mode of visible communication, very easy to be acquned,
namely, by the manual alphabet, as it is called; that is,
the expression of letters by different positions of the fin¬
gers. This art is valuable on many accounts ; in the first
place, as being a very quick and ready means of commu¬
nication ; and, secondly, as it is a method very generally
understood and practised by other persons besides the dea
and dumb. This art of talking with the fingers is com¬
monly learned at school, and is easily retained, or recovered
if lost. It furnishes a substitute for the pencil, or pen and
ink, when the materials for writing are not at hand. The
deaf and dumb, when properly instructed, can converse
with the utmost rapidity by this methodhabit enables
them to follow with the eye motions which, to others,
would be too rapid for observation; they readily catch at
the meaning of a word or question before it is half spelt.
In the common methods of indicating letters by the
fingers, both hands are employed. Some persons have
thought it would be attended with advantages, in point
of convenience, to contrive a manual alphabet that would
require the use of one hand only. Periere claims the in¬
vention of this method, to which he has given the pom¬
pous name of Dactylology, a term which the Abbe de
1’Epee proposes to change to Dactylolaly. It appears,
from a book published near two centuries ago, in which
are engravings of different positions of the fingers of one
hand, representing the several letters, that this method was
well known at that time in Spain. Sicard, in his CWs
. dInstruction dun Sourd-Muct de Naissance, has given a
plate of the manual alphabet employed in this institution.
It would appear, however, to be a considerable objection
to this single-handed alphabet, that it is not in general use
among other persons, so that it cannot assist the deaf and
dumb beyond the precincts of his school. . Ihese alpha¬
bets are, however, so easily acquired, that it must always
be worth while for him to learn them both.
There is yet another mode of visible intercourse, still
quicker in its operation than the former, and which it may
occasionally be very convenient to employ. . It is that of
indicating the forms of the letters by the point of the fin¬
ger moved in the air, constituting, as it were, an aerial
writing, which, by a little use, is quickly followed with the
eye. It must be recollected that, to a spectator who Deaf i
stands before us, the writing would appear reversed if Due
traced in the ordinary manner. This must be remedied V^v
by the letters being written in a reversed form, a method
which may be readily acquired by practising before a look¬
ing-glass. If the person to whom we addressed ourselves
were behind us, there would evidently be no necessity for
this artifice, since the motions of the fingers would be seen
by him in the same aspect as by ourselves. By means
somewhat similar, namely, by tracing the letters with the
finger on any part of the body, such as the hand or the
back of the person with whom we wish to communicate,
we may easily converse with him in the dark, a situation
in which the deaf are peculiarly helpless.
Having proceeded thus far in our instructions, having
taught our pupil the use and conventional meaning of
words, having familiarized him by the various modes of
writing and reading, with their visible appearances, and
put him in possession of a copious vocabulary of the names
of objects of common occurrence, we may be considered
as having achieved tjie most difficult, and, certainly, the
most important part of our task. There yet, however, re¬
mains much to be done. Substantives are all that he at
present knows ; but the expression of thought and passion,
the affirmation or denial of the relations between ideas,
demand words of another class, or, as they are called,
other parts of speech. The most natural order of pro¬
ceeding would seem to be that of teaching him next the
use of adjectives, and the relation in which they stand
to substantives. A few examples of adjectives, denoting
sensible properties of objects, such as those of colour and
form, connected with substances that possess these pro¬
perties, will very soon give them this knowledge, and en¬
able them to apply these adjectives properly. The mean-
in0- of pronouns and of verbs are next to be pointed out,
with their various modifications of person, number, and
tense. All this should, in our opinion, be taught wholly
by examples; for which purpose, short and simple senten¬
ces should be selected, of which the meaning may readi¬
ly be conveyed by the assistance of pantomimic language,
and will soon be collected by the pupil himself, whose sa¬
gacity in observing the occasions on which such expres¬
sions''are employed will lead him to the discovery by a
natural process of induction. , . .
A method proceeding on a diametrically opposite prin¬
ciple has been adopted by teachers of the first eminence
on the Continent, who insist upon the necessity of teach¬
ing the deaf and dumb all the parts of speech, one after
another, with critical and philological precision, and in
exact conformity with the order of the analysis of the
different classes of words. They appear to forget thaf in
the case of ordinary children, nature pursues a very differ¬
ent course. These learn their native language in a short
period, without all the technical apparatus of the peda¬
gogue. The study of the rules of grammar is more espe¬
cially useful in teaching a new language to a person who
is already conversant with his own._ The business of the
teacher is here, indeed, reduced chiefly to that of trans f-
tion ; whilst the substance is the same, it is the form only
that is varied. Dr Watson is decidedly of opinion that,
naming perceptions as they arise, without regar ° ™
physical or grammatical distinctions, is the oniy sure an
direct road to the acquisition of a language by those wh
have only the natural language of gesture and feature ^
assist them in acquiring it. for let it be strict y
mind, that the analogy between the naturai deaf and those
who hear, in learning a language, holds ^ be
to the first language, or the mother tongue. ‘ p0.
very little in common with them, in the ^arn g
reign or dead language, by the latter; for in this case
I land
mb.
DEAFANDDUMB. 651
mother tongue always serves to explain the terms of the Two sister? EntE j u • i j ^
knguage to be acquired, an advantage of which the deaf street opposit’e to the society “endtledl^ I’eVel'T/a Dumbd
and dumb aie totally deprived; and yet, if we compare Chretienne. Father Fanin. one nf the ef thot
compare
the progress they make with that generally made by young
scholars in what are termed the learned languages, in the
same length of time, we shall, for the most part, have rea¬
son to draw a conclusion in favour of the plan of following
nature in teaching a language. It should not, however,
be forgotten, that, fairly to estimate the attainments of a
deaf scholar, he should rather be compared, though sub¬
ject to great disadvantages, to a child of an age equal to
the length of time he has been under tuition, than to a
youth having all his faculties who has been long at school.
Whilst proceeding through the vocabulary of substan¬
tives, we are recommended by the same judicious author,
in order to give variety to the lessons, to teach the pro¬
nouns, personal and demonstrative, &c. at suitable inter¬
vals, always making the learner write the words with his
own hand. Then the verbs to be, to have, and the other
auxiliaries, are to be learned or varied according to third
persons, joined to nominative cases, as, I am, he has, &c.
The meaning of all these is learned by application in
examples. When he says I, he points to himself; when
he says you, he points to the person teaching him ; he, to
a third person, &c. Nothing is more obvious to the eye
than number as a property of things; we, therefore, easily
learn to count one, two, three, &c.
These preliminaries being settled, we proceed to the con¬
struction of short sentences, without learning the rules of
syntax. Thus, for instance, we may say, this is my pen, that
is your pen, that is his pen, these are our pens, &c. I have
one body, I have tivo hands, &c. showing the meaning by
pointing out the objects and their relations already per¬
ceived by and familiar to the learner, though he could not
express them. By way of practice, he is taught to change
the substantive, till he can himself give examples, and
rightly apply all the words in such sentences, which, in
general, he is not a little proud to do. Examples might
be multiplied indefinitely in the application of each of the
parts of speech, but enough have already been shown in
illustration of the general principle of the process. In all
cases, examples should be furnished to the learner till the
effect intended be produced on his mind; that is, till it
appears by examples given by himself that he rightly ap¬
plies the word intended to be illustrated. These exercises
should be introduced as reliefs to the less amusing, but, in
the first instance, more important business of learning the
vocabulary.
The system of instruction we have already alluded to,
as opposed to the simple process now detailed, is founded
upon the employment of a peculiar medium of communi¬
cation between the teacher and his pupils. This medium,
totally different and independent of ordinary language, is
formed by a set of artificial signs for the expression of
ideas, consisting, not of words, but of certain gestures
assumed by convention as the representative of those ideas.
These signs may, indeed, be considered as being virtually
words, though wearing a different form. They in fact per¬
form to the deaf all the functions of words, since every
word in the language is represented in this system by its
peculiar and appropriate gesture. In instructing the deaf
and dumb according to this method, care is taken that, on
their learning the meaning of any written word, the parti¬
cular gesticulation appropriated to it shall be learned in
conjunction with the word. The Abbe de 1’Epee, the ori¬
ginal contriver of this system, which has been adopted and
extended by his successor the Abbe Sicard, gives the fol¬
lowing account of the circumstances which first turned his
attention to the subject, and paved the way to the inven¬
tion.
Fanin, one of the associates of that
community, had attempted, but in a way not sufficiently
methodical, to supply the deficiencies of instruction to
which the loss of the faculties of hearing and of speech
had subjected them ; but he was unfortunately carried off'
b7 ^ premature death before his labour had rewarded him
with any degree of success. The two sisters, as well as
their mother, were inconsolable for the loss they had suf¬
fered, when a fortunate accident introduced to them a
person eminently qualified to fill the place of him they
mourned for. Ihe Abbe de I’Epee had occasion to call at
their house. The mother was out, ami while he was wait¬
ing her return, he put some questions to the young ladies ;
but their eyes remained fixed on their work, and they gave'
no answer. In vain did he renew his questions ; they w ere
still silent. Not suspecting that the ears of those whom
he was addressing were closed to all earthly sound, he was
lost in conjecture at the insensibility they manifested,
when the mother arrived, and the mystery was resolved.
So strong was the impression produced by this incident,
that his thoughts were, from that moment, bent upon de¬
vising means of restoring to those unhappy young women
the faculties of speech, and the means of intellectual in¬
tercourse. After meditating long on the subject, it oc¬
curred to him that every language is but an assemblage
of signs, in the same manner as a series of drawings is a
collection of figures, the representations of a multitude of
objects. Gestures are also signs; and we may figure every
thing by gestures, as we paint every thing by colours, or
express every thing by words. Every object has a form,
and every form is capable of being imitated. Actions
strike our sight, and we are competent to delineate and
describe them accurately by imitative gestures alone.
Words are but conventional signs. Why should not ges¬
tures serve the very same purposes ? Why may there not
be framed a language of gestures as there has been a lan¬
guage of words ?
Full of these impressions, the abbe was not long with¬
out revisiting the family who had inspired him with so
much interest; it is easy to imagine the joy his presence
gave them. He was eager to try the success of his new¬
ly invented imitative art. He began his drawings, his
gesticulations, his writings, conceiving he had but to teach
a new language ; while, in fact, he had first to form minds
wholly uncultivated. Severe were the toils and the diffi¬
culties, and bitter the disappointments, he had to encoun¬
ter in these first essays. He showed his pupils merely
letters, which he taught them to imitate; but nothing
like ideas could in this way ever reach their minds; the
act of imitation had been purely mechanical. Even when
the objects themselves, denoted by words, were pointed
out, still no conception of the relation in which they stood
to each other was formed; for written words were not
images. It was not enough that the abbe had invented ges¬
tures to correspond with every word in the language; the
necessary medium of communication was still wanting; he
had no fulcrum for his apparatus to rest upon; and he
was moving in a world placed beyond the narrow sphere
of their conceptions. He was striving to teach a foreign
language by a grammar written in that very language,
without reflecting that an idiom, the words and the syn¬
tax of which are alike unknown, cannot be taught but by
the aid of a dialect with which it is capable of being com¬
pared. No such comparative grammar exists for those
whose ideas are limited to what may be suggested by
transient sensations, resulting from instinctive wants. In
leading his pupils to write words as signs, he was endea¬
vouring to lead them to what they did not know, by set-
G52
DEAF AND DUMB.
Deaf and tins out from what was equally unknown. Ho succeeded.
Dumb, it is true, in enabling them to transcribe whole pages or
the most abstract disquisitions by the intermedium of ges¬
tures ; but these gestures, which they had mechanically
associated with certain characters, conveyed to them no
notions of the real signification of those characters ; for,
as in every language words are but conventional signs, it
is clear that, before their meaning could have been agreed
upon, there must have existed some prior language mu¬
tually understood by the parties making the agreement.
Notwithstanding the radical and glaring deiects o e
I’Epee’s method, which must have precluded it from ever
being of the slightest utility to those who followed it, the
ostentatious display of that kind of success he obtained,
and which was of a nature particularly calculated to im¬
pose upon a superficial observer, excited the astonishment
and applause of a host of spectators ; and being seconded
by the impulse of his religious zeal and beneficent cha¬
rity, it soon raised him to a high degree of reputation. His
fame spread itself all over Europe, and his lectures and
exhibitions attracted everywhere crowds of enthusiastic
admirers. There were not wanting persons, however, who
saw through the delusion. At a public exhibition of the
pupils of the Abbe Storck, who were taught according to
this method at Vienna, Mr Nicolai, an academician of
Berlin, proposed to the abbe to require one of his pupils
to describe in writing the action he was about to perform.
The challenge being accepted, the academician struck his
breast with his hand, upon which the deaf and dumb boy
immediately wrote the words, hand, breast. Mr Nicolai
withdrew, satisfied with this proof of total failure, it was
evident that, notwithstanding all this parade of learning,
and their quickness in writing down any question, toge¬
ther with its answer, both had been equally dictated by
their master, in the same language of gesture, but with¬
out any corresponding ideas, or the exertion of any intel¬
lectual faculty, except that of memory. They were ut¬
terly incapable of composing a single sentence of their
own accord; and it was found, accordingly, that then-
spontaneous answers to the questions asked them were
limited to the monosyllables yes and 710, of which it is
even doubtful whether they fully understood the mean¬
ing. It is more easy to conceive than to describe the dis¬
appointment which the parents must have felt at the dis¬
covery of the real ignorance of their children after so
many years of instruction, and after the brilliant mannei
in which they acquitted themselves in their public pro¬
bations. The secret is, indeed, betrayed in some letters
of the Abbe de 1’Epee, published by Sicard, in a note to
the work already referred to, in which he avows that his
views of education were limited to the mechanical quali¬
fications necessary to enable his pupils to perform then-
parts in a public exhibition, namely, that of writing words
upon certain gestures being made to them, without the
least intelligence of their import, and of course without
the power of employing these words, either as instruments
of thought, or as vehicles of meaning.
The Abbe Sicard, who bad been for some time the assist¬
ant, and was afterwards the successor, of De 1’Epee, whilst
he retained the system of artificial signs contrived by the
latter, soon discovered that the intellectual education of
his pupils should be the chief object of his efforts, and, in
the pursuit of this object, struck out for himself a new
path. An opportunity soon occurred for the develop¬
ment of his plan, by his appointment as teacher to a school
which had been recently established at Bordeaux, by the
Archbishop M. Champion de Cic§ ; and among the first
pupils presented to him for admission, was a boy and us
sister, belonging to a numerous and indigent family, o
whom five were deaf and dumb. I hey lived in an ob¬
scure cottage in a remote part of the country; and the Deaf at
sole occupation of John Massieu, the name of the boy, Dumb;
had been to tend his father’s flock of sheep, amidst heaths
and forests ; and whatever habits he had contracted were
those of a savage life. On being brought to Bordeaux,
for the purpose, as he thought, of looking after other
flocks, his astonishment and alarm at the new objects he
beheld were extreme. His suspicions were awakened by
every look directed towards him, and he shrunk from all
intercourse with those who sought his confidence. His
dull and vacant countenance, his timid and embarrassed
air, his frigid and sullen reserve, all denoted a being un¬
susceptible of education. By judicious management, the
prospect brightened; his faculties weie developed; his
intellectual powers were gradually excited and exercised;
his capacity for receiving instruction expanded, and he
made rapid strides in the acquisition of every kind of
knowledge. He is at present distinguished by his intel¬
ligence, acuteness, and general information; and is not
only conversant with literature, but expresses himself with
facility, clearness, and elegance. Sicard has detailed in
his work the several steps of his instruction, as a model
of his general method ; of which, however, after what has
been already said, only a short notice will be sufficient.
The object of his first lessons is to teach his pupil the
relation between the names of objects and the objects
themselves; the analysis of words into the letters of the
alphabet; and the particular gesture which he is to attach
to each word as its distinctive sign. He then explains the
meaning of collective words, as distinguished from those
denoting individual objects or parts of objects. 1 hence
he proceeds to general terms, applicable in common to a
number of individuals, and to generic names comprehend¬
ing a number of species ; and, lastly, ascends to the most
general and abstract words, such as being, thing, object.
The qualities which are expressions of the accidents, va¬
riations, and modifications of objects, and are denoted by
adjectives, are next taught. He endeavours to make his
pupil conceive these qualities, in the first place, as inh^'
rent in the objects themselves, and next as being capable
of being detached, by a mental operation, from such ob¬
jects, though, in fact, they have no existence but as unit¬
ed with them. We shall here give a specimen of the con¬
trivances he had recourse to in assisting his pupils to un¬
derstand such abstract conceptions. Taking seven pieces
of paper, each white on one side, and coloured on the
other with one of the primitive colours, he places them on
a table, before a black board, with their white sides up¬
permost. He then writes the word PAPER on the board,
leaving sufficient intervals between the letters for me in*
sertion of other letters. Then turning the sheet painted
blue, so that the coloured side is now uppermost, he writes
the word blue between the letters of the former word,
but in smaller characters, thus,
PbAlPuEeR.
The same thing is dqne successively with regard to t e
other sheets of paper, inserting the na,m®
colour between the letters of the word PAPER, which
repeated for that purpose. This being finished, the blue
sheet is again turned down, so that its white side is pre
sented; upon which the smaller letters, composing the
word blue, are effaced, while the other letters, P, A, P, E, ,
are allowed to remain. By this process the pupil is taug
to consider the quality as part of the objech or as .nhe
rent in it. In like manner, he proceeds with other adje
tives, such as round, square, and the like, expressly
form of objects; writing them in the intervals of th
ters composing the name of the respective object , eto
cing them, and substituting others, according as the
of the object is varied.
nnd In order to lead his pupil to form the abstraction of the
fcb. quality thus expressed, that is, to the use of the adjective
r-' as a separate word ready to be applied to different sub¬
stantives, he employs the following diagram, the different
lines of which he traces before his eyes, in order to point
out the steps by which he is to arrive at this abstraction.
PbAlPuEeR
DEAF AND DUMB.
653
P • A
P • A
P
E
R
R
BLUE
The two words, thus obtained separate, he afterwards
unites by a connecting line, thus,
PAPER — BLUE.
The next step, in order to form this into a complete
sentence, is to insert the word is, instead of the line; of
which line it may accordingly be regarded as the substi¬
tute and representation.
PAPER is BLUE.
By thus making his pupils understand the nature of a
verb, and afterwards teaching them that the verb can ex¬
press either an existence or an action, past, present, or fu¬
ture, he leads them to the system of conjugation, and to
all the shades of tenses adopted in various languages.
The various significations and inflections of pronouns, with
the corresponding affections of verbs, in regard to number
and person, are conveyed to the minds of the deaf and
dumb, by contrivances very analogous to the preceding,
and which need not be dwelt upon, after the example
already given. They proceed upon the general principle
of connecting together by lines the words, denoting the
ideas, which are the component parts of other ideas, so as
to express their union ; and writing in the place where
the lines unite, or, in place of the other words in a similar
diagram, the name of the compound idea. Another part of
Sicard’s system is the employment of a system of ciphers,
written on the top of every word or member of a sentence,
according to the office it performs in that sentence; by
the help of which his pupils are better enabled to analyze
it into its essential parts, distinguishing the name of the ob¬
ject which is either acting or receiving an action, the verb
and its regimen, direct, indirect, or circumstantial, and
thus comprehending and displaying every part of speech.
Ihus he instructs his pupils in the science of universal
grammar, applicable to the primitive expressions of signs,
as well as to all spoken and written languages.
Of the system of artificial signs, which is represented
by Sicard as the essential groundwork of all this know¬
ledge, and as the principle means of imparting it, there is
much room to doubt the practical advantage. To the
praise of ingenuity its author has certainly a claim; but
it can scarcely be regarded as any approach to a philo¬
sophical language, being as much founded in metaphor
and distant analogies as any existing language. With
speech it cannot bear any comparison in point of quick¬
ness, for the modulations of the voice are capable of being
executed with a rapidity far exceeding that of gestures.
There is, besides, hardly any mode of fixing the idea of a
gesture by some visible type, as there is that of sound by
writing, which serves at all times to renew the impression
with pei feet correctness. Hence the difficulty of forming Deaf and
a vocabulary of gestures, even to those already in pos- Dumb,
session of the use of written language, of which we must, -y'-
of course, suppose our pupils ignorant. These gestures,
it is pretended, are engrafted on the natural language of
pantomime ; but this natural language can carry us but a
very little way in the expression of thought. Every ac¬
tion, the visible part of which can be imitated by o-gsture
admits easily of being so expressed; as the action of eat¬
ing, by lifting the hand to the mouth, followed by the
motion of the jaws; and of sleeping, by closing the eyes
and reclining the head. The expression of different pas¬
sions, of approbation or disapprobation, of surprise, of in¬
quiry, &c. may all be signified very intelligibly by modifi¬
cations of the countenance. It is in this simple manner, ob¬
serves Dr Watson, that two or more deaf and dumb per¬
sons are enabled to hold instant converse with each other,
though brought together for the first time from the most
distant parts. Thus far these signs may be termed natu¬
ral; but the naturally deaf do not stop here with this
language of pantomime. When they are fortunate enough
to meet with attentive companions, especially where two
or more deaf persons happen to be brought up together,
it is astonishing what approaches they will make towards
the construction of an artificial language. By an arbi¬
trary sign, fixed by common consent, or accidentally hit
upon, they will designate a person or a thing, and only
that particular person or thing, by this sign, which is ever
after used by them as a proper name. It is remarkable,
that, although in the first instances of inventing or apply¬
ing these sign-names, if they may be so called, they are
guided by some prominent, but perhaps by no means
permanently distinguishing mark; such as, in the case of a
person, a particular article of dress being worn, the first
time of becoming acquainted, an accidental wound, though
it leave no scar, a peculiarity of manner, and the like;
yet, after having fixed upon it, they never vary, notwith¬
standing the peculiarity that guided their choice should
have long ceased to be observable in the person of the in¬
dividual they have so designated. Nor will they fix upon
the same sign for another of their acquaintance, though,
at the time of first meeting him, he may have the same
mark about him wdiich they had used to specify a former
person. This fully proves that they regard the sign mere¬
ly as a proper name; and they receive it as such from
one another, without inquiry as to its origin. Thus, sup¬
posing a person, the first time he should be particularly
taken notice of by one who is deaf and dumb, had acci¬
dentally cut his face, and wore a patch, it is a hundred to
one that this would, from henceforward, be his distin¬
guishing mark, unless some one else of the deaf person’s
acquaintance had already been so distinguished. The
wound might be cured, and the patch removed; but
the deaf person would uniformly put the end of his finger
to the part of the face where the patch had been worn,
when he wanted to point him out. And lest those to
whom he might be desirous of afterwards communicating
something concerning this person should not comprehend
him, he will not fail to introduce him to them by repeat¬
edly pointing to him, and then to the mark by which he
means to describe him, till he thinks he has sufficiently
engaged their attention. By similar contrivances, places
and things, as well as persons, nay, even qualities and cir¬
cumstances, are distinguished by the deaf, in an astonish¬
ing manner. To attempt in words a description of those
signs would be endless, because they are various as the
fancies and circumstances of their inventors. Yet being
grafted on the parent stock of natural and universal signs,
they may in some measure be regarded as different dia¬
lects of the same language.
054
DEAF AND DUMB.
Deaf and
Dumb.
Hence every one who undertakes the arduous task of
teaching the deaf and dumb, should sedulously turn his
attention to the study of that language termed natural,
where it consists of gesture and feature, in order to ena¬
ble him to comprehend, as far as possible, the signs ot Ins
scholars, which at first more or less differ from one another,
as they more or less resemble those signs universally in¬
telligible. Of how much importance it is to the teacher
to understand these signs, will readily be apprehended, i
any one will attempt either to teach or learn a language,
without having another common to master and scholar.
But never let any thing so chimerical be thought ot as an
attempt to turn master to the deaf and dumb in e ar
of forming signs. What should we expect from an Euro¬
pean who should undertake to teach his own regular, co¬
pious, and polished language to a South Sea Islander, w
was henceforward to live among Europeans, and whose
scanty vocabulary extended only to a very few words,
barely sufficient to enable him to express, m a rude man¬
ner, what was required by the uniformity of Ins condition
and the paucity of his thoughts ? Should we suspect that
the teacher would set about new-modelling, methodizing,
and enlarging this rude and imperfect language, as the
readiest method of making the islander acquainted with
the European tongue, especially when this new-modelled
language, after all the pains bestowed in forming and
teaching it, could be of no manner of use but to assist the
intercourse between these two persons ? If this supposi¬
tion appear ridiculous, how much more fanciful and useless
is an attempt to methodize signs for the instruction of the
deaf and dumb. Would it not be a more natural and
rational mode of procedure for the teacher to begin by
watching the objects and occasions to which the scholar
applied the words of his barbarous speech, that by know¬
ing these he might gradually substitute the words of the
language to be taught, using the former only as an intro¬
duction to the latter ? It should never be lost sight of,
that deaf people are not educated to live always among
persons in their own unfortunate situation. W ere this the
case, indeed, an artificial language of methodized signs
might be of important use. But as they are intended
to mix with their fellow beings, in social habits and ne¬
cessary avocations, we have to open a channel to this in¬
tercourse ; and this cannot be done so effectually by any
other means as by teaching them the language ot the
country where they reside.
To these judicious remarks of Dr Watson may be add¬
ed the consideration, that our object in educating the deaf
and dumb is not so much to make them acute gramma¬
rians and subtile metaphysicians, as to render them useful
members of society. Experience shows that the more
simple and ordinary modes of instruction will effect this
latter purpose in less time, and with better success, than
the former can be accomplished by the complex and ela¬
borate system we have been considering.
Another most important branch of the education of the
deaf and dumb remains to be considered, namely, the
teaching them to speak, and to understand what is spoken
by others, by observing the motion of their lips. I hat
any person, without the guidance of the sense of hearing,
should be enabled, merely by studying the position and
action of the organs of voice, to utter articulate sounds
with any tolerable perfection, would at first view appear
scarcely credible. Experience however has shown, that
the task, though laborious and tedious, is not attended
with this extreme difficulty. Even the earliest attempts
of those who have cultivated this art appear to have been
as completely successful as those of modern instructors.
Great patience and perseverance would seem to be the
qualities chiefly necessary to ensure success in ordinary
cases. When we talk of success, however, it must be Deafs
stated, that a wide difference must ever remain percepti- bum:
ble between the speech of the deaf and of those who hear. V—Yv
This artificial speech is evidently laborious and constrain¬
ed, conveying frequently the idea of pain as well as of effort.
As it cannot be regulated by the ear of the speaker, it is
often too loud, and generally monotonous, harsh, and dis¬
cordant. It is often, from this cause, scarcely intelligible,
except to those who are accustomed to its tones. It is
only, indeed, to such as are in habits of daily intercourse
with them, that it fully answers the purpose for which
that gift was bestowed on man, namely, the communica¬
tion of thought.
It may, indeed, be a matter of some doubt, whether
these advantages, limited as they must necessarily be, are
a sufficient compensation for the time and labour consum¬
ed in their attainment, and which might perhaps be bet¬
ter employed. • The decision of this question, as far as it
concerns any particular individual, must, however, depend
in a great measure on peculiar circumstances, such as his
condition in life and future destination. The Abbe Sicard,
perhaps from a predilection for the method of artificial
signs, renounced the pursuit of this object, as not worth
the pains, and as interfering with his general plan. In
Great Britain this art has been at all times cultivated
with more assiduity and with greater success than on the
Continent. The experience of Dr Watson is decidedly in
favour of its utility. In support of his opinion he states
one argument, wffiich must doubtless be allowed to have
considerable weight. The more numerous are the means
of association, he justly observes, the more perfect will be
the recollection, or, in other terms, the more frequent
the recurrence of words, and their corresponding ideas to
the mind. Thus, persons who can hear, speak, read, and
write, retain a discourse much better, and have far great¬
er facility in expressing themselves, than persons who
possess only two of these faculties; that is, illiterate per¬
sons, who can hear and speak, but who cannot read nor
write. Now as deaf and dumb persons, educated without
articulation, can only have two of the means, viz. the third
and fourth; that is, the impressions made upon the eye
by characters, and the action of the hand in writing; can
it be questioned that we render them an essential service
by adding the actions of the organs of speech; a very
powerful auxiliary, since by it words become, as it were,
a part of ourselves, and more immediately affect us. In
learning the pronunciation of the letters, a very important
operation is going on in the mind of a deaf person ^name¬
ly, the association, in the memory and understanding, ot
the figures of written or printed characters, with certain
movements or actions of the organs of speech. 1 he very
habit of regarding the one as the representative ot the
other, paves the way for considering combinations of those
actions or characters as the signs of things or of ideas;
that is, significant words, written or articulate. We who
hear consider words chiefly as sounds; the deaf who have
learnt to speak consider them rather as actions proceed¬
ing from themselves. And this gives language to them a
sort of tangible property, which is of vast importance both
as respects its retention in the memory, and as it respects
one of its most important uses, the excitation of ideas in
their own minds. On this account the time, the labour,
and attention, necessary to articulate speech by those wh
are dumb, through want of hearing, would be well besto
ed, even if their speech were not intelligible to others.
Deaf persons having learnt to speak are frequently over¬
heard speaking softly to themselves; that is, rehears g
words or sentences, either for the purpose ot better re
membering them, or of framing such expressions as they
think will best convey their ideas.
-nid The act of speaking is evidently an operation purely
4). mechanical; and the instruments by which it is perform-
^ ed are the lungs, windpipe, and larynx, the tongue, nos¬
trils, lips, and the various parts of the mouth. The lungs
supply breath like the bellows to a musical organ; and
the shortening or elongation of the cavity of the pharynx
and mouth produce the varieties of grave and sharp tones
in the voice, though these tones are again modulated by
the movements of the parts of the larynx, which are dis¬
posed so as to expand or contract the aperture of the
glottis. The articulation of syllables, or the formation of
the different letters, begins after the breath has been
emitted through the larynx, and is accomplished by means
of the mere external organs of speech, that is, the mouth,
nostrils, tongue, teeth, and lips.
The following is the process employed by Dr Watson
in teaching the pronunciation of the vowels. “ The first
step,” he says, “ is to obtain a clear and distinct sound
from the throat (in a voice tolerably well pitched, for this
is our materia loquelce), as of a in the word wall, &c. To
effect this, and to habituate the pupil to associate the
sound which he is learning to form with the figure of the
letter which is to be its representative, this is distinctly
traced upon paper, or any convenient tablet, and he is
made to look at it for a minute or two; he then, if of
acute intellect, will look up, with some anxiety in his
countenance, as if he would ask what he is to do with it.
The sound is then slowly and fully pronounced, and the
learner made to observe, by his eyes, the position and mo¬
tion of the external organs of speech, and to feel the as-
triction of the muscles of the larynx, by placing his finger
upon the throat, carefully making him perceive the dif¬
ference to be felt there between sound and silence. Hav¬
ing made these observations for a minute or two, he will
seldom hesitate to attempt an imitation of what he has
been observing ; and that, for the most part, successfully.
When the contrary is the case, nothing more is necessary
than patient and good-natured perseverance ; for if he
perceive that his failure has excited chagrin or disappoint¬
ment in his teacher, he will make another effort with great
reluctance. The sound once acquired must be practised
sufficiently to avoid any danger of losing it; for the great¬
est care must be taken, all throughout his progress, never
to proceed to a new sound till the preceding has become
familiar, and unattended with doubt as to the manner of
producing it. A contrary practice would lead to endless
vexation. A principal requisite is to keep the learner in
good humour, and to make him think that he is doing well
beyond expectation; nothing is more discouraging than
to put him back.” In the same manner he proceeds to
the simple sounds of the other vowels, and then to the
consonants.
By the powers of the consonants are meant the posi¬
tions and actions of the several organs employed in their
formation, without the addition of any distinct vocal
sound. For although frequent mention will be made of
sound in the throat, in their formation, it is to be un¬
derstood as so confined by the position of the organs, as
not to partake of any of the sounds represented by the
vowels.
By closing the lips, sounding gently in the throat, for¬
cing them asunder by the emission of the breath, and care¬
fully avoiding to let any of it pass through the nose, we
have the power of B. After the same manner is formed
the power of P, but without sound in the throat. M re¬
quires the lips to be closed, the sound is made in the
throat, and the breath suffered to escape through the nose.
The power of C, or what is called its hard sound, that
l is, the sound of K, is formed by raising the back part of
the tongue to the roof of the mouth, near the uvula, and
forcing it away again rather quickly, by an emission of Deaf and
the breath, without sound in the throat. G has the same Dumb,
formation, with the addition of sound in the throat.
The power of D is produced by placing the tip of the
tongue against the two rows of teeth, which are to be
quite, or nearly shut, sounding in the throat, emitting the
breath in removing the tongue from the teeth, and, at the
same time, opening them a little. T has the same forma¬
tion, only without sound in the throat.
By placing the upper row of teeth upon the under lip,
and gently emitting the breath, without sound in the
throat, we have the power of F. V has the same forma¬
tion, with the addition of sound in the throat.
H is a mere emission of breath, with the mouth a little
open.
J has the power of D and SH combined.
L is formed by raising the point of the tongue to the
roof of the mouth, near the upper teeth, sounding in the
throat, and suffering the breath to escape freely on each
side of the tongue.
The power of N is formed by raising and pressing the
tongue to the palate, with the whole of its upper surface,
so that no breath may escape except through the nose;
the lips being kept open, and a gentle sound being made
in the throat.
For Q, join K and W.
R is variously formed; but the surest and easiest way
of teaching its power to a deaf person is by elevating the
fore part of the tongue to the palate, and, with the assist¬
ance of the breath, causing a vibratory motion of it, ac¬
companied with a gentle sound in the throat.
In forming S, place the tip of the tongue just below
the under teeth, raise the sides of it to the palate, leaving
a small aperture in the middle, through which the breath
is to be forced, without sound in the throat, which
will be intercepted by the teeth being shut, and form
the hissing sound required. Z requires the same position
of the organs, with the addition of sound in the throat.
X is compounded of K and S.
CH is compounded of the powers of T and SH.
SH has a power nearly resembling that of S, and re¬
quires a position of the organs something similar, except
that the tip of the tongue must be drawn back, instead of
touching the gums and teeth; and the current of the
breath emitted must be intercepted by the under teeth
only in part; the rest must be suffered to escape between
the rows of teeth, which must be a little opened for that
purpose.
TH requires the tongue to be a little advanced be¬
tween the two rows of teeth, and the breath emitted be¬
tween it and the upper row, which must, nevertheless, be
nearly in contact with it; this will produce the sound of
TH, as heard in the word think. It has another power,
requiring precisely the same position of the organs, but
with the addition of sound in the throat, heard in the word
this, &c.
NG represents a strong nasal sound; to form it the
tongue is drawn back and raised to the roof of the mouth,
towards the uvula; a sound is made in the throat, and forced
through the nose.
It is evident that when the power of a consonant is ac¬
quired, it needs only to be combined with the vowels to
form syllables ; as ha, ah, &c. These the pupil pronoun¬
ces almost at sight, as he does also bob, and any other com¬
bination of a vowel and a consonant or consonants, if well
grounded in the foregoing formations of them. From the
easiest combinations we proceed to the most complex, and
by practice acquire a readiness in pronouncing the longest
polysyllables.
Whilst acquiring the faculty of speaking, the deaf and
()5G
DEAF AND DUMB.
Deaf and dumb imperceptibly learn to distinguish by the eye the
Dumb, words spoken by others. “ It is truly astonishing,” says
Dr Watson, “ and would hardly be credited by any one
who had not seen it, how readily deaf persons, who have
themselves been taught to speak, catch words, and even
long sentences, from the mouths of those who address
them. Yet, in this sort of conversation, it is indispensa¬
ble that the speech should be immediately directed to the
spectator (we must not call him auditor), who must have
an opportunity of observing every motion of the muscles
(as far as these can be seen externally) and countenance,
in order to make out the discourse. On this account it is
impossible for a deaf person to understand the conversa¬
tion of a mixed company, a discourse from the pulpit, or
an harangue to an assembly, where the speaker does not
immediately address him.” . .
After the sketch we have thus given of the principles
on which the different departments of the education of
the*deaf and dumb should be conducted, it only remains
for us to consider the best order in which we should pi o-
ceed with their lessons and studies, and the period within
which we may reasonably expect that they are to be com¬
pleted. In giving directions with this view, we shall still
take Dr Watson as our guide.
Schools for the deaf and dumb, in which a great num¬
ber are instructed at the same time, afford peculiar advan¬
tages to the teacher, and are very favourable to the profi¬
ciency of the scholars. By associating with others, who,
being equally deprived of hearing, are on a level with re¬
gard to the difficulties to be surmounted, they are reliev¬
ed from the continual sense of inferiority which oppresses
and disheartens the deaf child when placed in the midst
of those who have the perfect use of all their senses ; and
the influence of example, and a spirit of emulation, will
operate with due force in exciting them to intellectual ex¬
ertions. Dr Watson finds, by experience, that one deaf
person may be employed to teach another with the hap¬
piest effect. So much so, that when he happens to be for
the moment at a loss to make one of slow apprehension
understand a lesson, he turns him over to one of his
school-fellows who has learnt it, and never without ad¬
vantage to both. For it is with the deaf as with every
one, that we ourselves learn best by endeavouring to teach
others.
The acquisition of the pronunciation of letters, of syl¬
lables, and of words, with their correct orthography, con¬
tained in the vocabulary already described, together with
such additional exercises as will most obviously exempli¬
fy the application and meaning of the connecting parts of
speech, will be sufficient occupation to the pupil during
the first year of his attendance upon the school; and when
the capacity is good, great progress is usually made in
these particulars during this period. He is then prepared
for longer exercises, and for the application of the words
he has learnt, in the construction of longer sentences, to
which he, of course, requires to be led on by easy and fa¬
miliar examples. A sort of colloquy, or dialogue, must be
entered into with him. The questions at first must be all
on the teacher’s part, and the answers must be formed
for the learner, in the most obvious words and phrases
that will convey his ideas, in strict conformity to which
they must constantly be framed. Due attention being
paid by learner and teacher, the good effects of this me¬
thod will presently appear. The latter will soon be
agreeably surprised by his scholar changing parts with
him, and becoming, in his turn, the interrogator; and
that, too, in a way that will show he practically under¬
stands analogy.
It will be useful to set aside certain stated periods, as
once or twice in a week, for the x’epetition of words al¬
ready learnt; taking care to see minutely that correct Deaf i
• 1 1 A.   U -\7irU™ 4-Tv ^1**1  1 TX 1
A ,   o   a AVCUi ;
ideas are annexed to each. When the whole of the words Dun
in the select vocabulary, substantives, verbs, and adjec-
tives, have been gone through several times, and the read¬
er can correctly spell, speak, and point them out (if the
names of things engraved), or show their signification by
his signs (if the names of actions, or qualities, &c.), then
he is to enter upon a vrork as yet altogether new to him.
He is to go over his vocabulary again, and to learn a short
definition of each word; that is, to tell the meaning of
words by words. This employment is prescribed, not be¬
cause he will better understand the words in his vocabu¬
lary by being taught to define them, but because an oppor¬
tunity is thus afforded of enlarging it, by the introduction
of synonymous words, and words that are defined in some
way from those we are defining; and these new words
enable us to explain others. So that, by this means, and
by our colloquial exercises, our vocabulary is daily and
almost imperceptibly enlarging. This is strictly analogous
to the manner of acquiring a first language by those who
hear. The conjugation of verbs is, in the mean time, to be
carefully attended to ; and one example, at least, through
all the moods, tenses, and persons, should now be per¬
formed every morning, till the pupil can write any person
of any mood or tense required.
By this time, probably about the third year of the
learner’s progress, supposing in him the requisite atten¬
tion and capacity, it will be proper and necessary to be¬
gin the reading of printed books, for the sake of profiting
by the information they contain. As far as the mere act
of reading is concerned, we have no new difficulty to sur¬
mount, for all our exercises and lessons have, in fact, been
read as well as written by the learner. The difference be¬
tween printed characters and those used in writing has,
of course, not been unobserved. What constitutes the
chief impediment to making sense of what is met with in
books, is the promiscuous use of words, without regard to
our selections. What is to be done when we meet with
a word which we have never seen before? Precisely
that which is done with all children under similar circum¬
stances ; explain it by the substitution of a word of which
the meaning is known, if it can be done; if not, pass it
over till a favourable opportunity shall occur to show its
meaning by an example. If no such opportunity ever oc¬
cur, then can the meaning of the word be of no great mo¬
ment to the learner.
In order to discover the progress he has made, and is
daily making, and to assist him in the composition of sen¬
tences, or the expression of his thoughts in writing, he is
now required, every day, to furnish, according to his ca¬
pacity, a certain number of lines from his own ideas. He
is at liberty to choose his subject; he may relate what he
has seen in his walk or his play-ground, or he may unfold
the stoi’es of his memory relative to more distant places
and periods. He may ask questions, and seek for infor¬
mation of any kind. His rude essays at expression are
often cui’ious, and require some skill in the language of
pantomime to discover their meaning by his own explana¬
tions. This being attained, it is put into correct but easy
language; he commits it to his memory thus corrected; and
goes to work again, “ at his leisure hour in the evening,
for the next day, generally profiting considerably by the
alterations it was necessary to make in his preceding es¬
say. We have now a new channel of communication
opened ; and the knowledge of the meaning of words, and
their use in the construction of sentences, which we have
already acquired, may be carried to almost any given
degree of perfection and extension. Frequent conversa¬
tion and intercourse, by the words of the language he has
learnt, is of the very utmost importance to a deal person,
ind especially if he should have but little leisure or inclination all
I| ub.
tofhua8e’ and f e°lar?!nS inception of things, and child is admitted under nine, nor aboSve fourteen
as the means of retaining what he has acquired. Evnrv nf no-P   • ’, , , I0.ulteen
DEAF AND DUMB.
657
ftf reading, as the means of extending Iris hnowled"^ ZZ ^ ^
as the means of retaining what he has acquired. “Every ofage." FivrvearsTrrrPnnJrpHF1' aD°Vei ro.urtef1. yefs
OTe will readily perceive this, who considers how easily a cation. Besides the abovlmentit7dTraS o/educal
■ZT speS faT86 18 WaDt °f read‘ng’ 'Vrit- tion’,which al> ^ I>“Pils a« taught in commt, ,l“e ftSe
mg, oi spea g r. pupils are taught needle-work, and those of an inferior
Ihe asylum for educating the deaf and dumb children station are qualified by suitable instruction for becomin"
S'* °f L°n- domes.tic servants. Aose of the boys who ^"“1
don, by private subscriptions, in the year 1 /92, was ongi- years in the institution are taught to be tailors or shop,
nally under the very able superintendence of Dr Joseph makers; but those who remain only five years have their
Watson, who has, since Ins death been succeeded by his attention directed solely to education. Since this institm
S?n ‘^nidames Watson. No child is admitted on the tion commenced its labours, 170 males and 119 females
charitable foundation under the age of nine years. This in all 289, have left school more or less instructed and’
age was not fixed upon from any idea that it was the ear- by having their rational and moral powers awakened! rma-
best at which regular education could be advantageously lifted to become useful members of society
begun; but Jive years being, generally speaking, deemed The system of tuition followed in the Edinburgh school
sufficient to accomplish that course of instruction which was is nearly the same as that of the London institution. Mr
thought most essential to such children, destined to earn Kinniburgh considers the British system of education for
their bread by the labour of their hands, and fourteen being the deaf and dumb as preferable to that practised in the
the eaihest age at which they could be apprenticed, it was continental schools, inasmuch as it is less metaphysical
judged best, for the economical purposes of the institu- and calculated to produce more speedy results,
tioii, not to receive them before the age of nine years. The pupils occasionally undergo public examinations,
That he may not be misapprehended, Dr Watson after- and never fail to gratify and astonish crowded audiences,
wards states precisely what he undei stands by an educa- particularly by their remarkable promptitude in defining
tion most essential to deaf children of the class mentioned. A  ^ - - -- - &
“ I deem it essential,” says he, “ that they should have
such a knowledge of language as to enable them to ex¬
press their ideas on common occasions ; to understand the
commands or directions it may be necessary to give them
in ordinary cases, &c.; to read with intelligence the pre¬
cepts, the examples, and the promises, which are con¬
tained in the Scriptures, particularly the New Testament;
that they should write a good hand, spell correctly the
abstract terms.. The following, on the word Music, may
serve as a specimen: “ Music, the language of sentiment
and the breath of the passions; a harmonious and sweet
sound, such as the sound of a piano-forte, violin, or bag¬
pipe. Language, a medium of conversation between one
man and another: it is either artificial or natural. Natu¬
ral, not acquired, not taught, not learned. Artificial, cul¬
tivated by art, not natural. Sentiment, thought, opinion,
the judgment of the mind. Breath, life, moving air. .Pas-
words they use, and understand the principal rules of sions, such as extreme love, anger, zeal. Harmonious, con-
arithmetic. When I say that these acquirements may be cordant or agreeing. Sweet, delic
attained in five years, I mean to state that as the shortest
time, even where the capacity of the learner is good.
Where the mind is intended to be enlarged by a system
of general information and science, a proportionably longer
time must necessarily be required for its accomplish¬
ment.”
An institution of a similar kind was also established at
Birmingham, and Mr Thomas Braidwood, who had con¬
ducted a private school for the deaf and dumb at Hack¬
ney, was originally appointed teacher. Mr Braidwood,
however, is now dead, and his successor is Mr du Puget.
Though the original design did not go beyond that of a
day-school, for the more immediate instruction of such
delicate, luscious, pleasing to
the ear or taste. Sound, a noise; I cannot hear what is
called sound. Pianoforte, a large curious musical instru¬
ment used by ladies. Bagpipe, an instrument consisting
of a leathern bag and pipes used by Highlanders.” At
these examinations, too, they exhibit their attainments
in geography and arithmetic, and display a minute ac¬
quaintance with the facts and doctrines of the Christian
religion; and the specimens of composition which are
produced not only manifest much good feeling and accu¬
racy, but sufficiently controvert the assertion, that none
of the deaf and dumb can ever be taught to write gram¬
matically. The public are permitted to visit the school
every Tuesday from twelve to one o’clock, for the pur-
deaf and dumb persons as might be found in Birmingham, pose of examining the various classes,
yet since, by the zealous exertions of a number of its The institution was established and is wholly supported
friends, the charity attracted a more general attention, a by private subscription, and by the aids contributed by
liberal subscription was raised for providing a building auxiliary societies in some of the other towns in Scotland,
fitted for the reception of children from distant places. Its expense for one year, ending 26th March 1833, was
This building was completed and first opened in January about L.I100, the average cost for each pupil being some-
1815, and is sufficient to contain forty children. what under twenty pounds per annum ; which sum includes
In June 1810 a society was instituted in Edinburgh for board, education, stationery and books, servants’ wages,
the education of deaf and dumb children. The first teacher
was Mr John Braidwood, a member of the family which
has done so much for the instruction of this interesting
class of persons. On his removal, a short time after¬
repairs, and in some cases clothing, besides various other
incidental expenses.
Although the institution has been liberally patronized
by the public, yet its income has always been insufficient
wards, Mr Robert Kinniburgh was appointed teacher of to meet its expenditure. In consequence of this the direc-
the school, and this gentleman still continues to discharge tors have been generally under the painful necessity of
the duties of his office with equal ability and success, preferring those applicants who could afford to pay a part
The number of his pupils at present (1833) is sixty-four, of the expense of their own maintenance during the pe-
All of them are boarded in the society’s house, where riod allotted for their education. However, in not a few
they are taught reading, writing, geography, and arith- cases where the parents or friends have been found unable
metic, and are carefully instructed in the principles of the to contribute any portion of this expense, it has been whol-
Christian religion. They are also, in some cases, taught ly defrayed by the institution.
to express their wants and ideas in articulate speech ; and The house is situated in a healthy and convenient spot
vol. vir. 4 o
658
DEAF AND DUMB.
Deaf and in Distillery Park, Henderson Row; arranged in the inte-
Dumb, rior on a plan well adapted for the purposes of such an
establishment, and surrounded by two acres of ground,
affording sufficient scope for that degree of relaxation
which is essential to the health of young people. ihe
building may be said to be all that the Deaf and Dumb
Institution of the metropolis of Scotland ought to be ; and
although there be nothing in its appearance very im¬
posing to the eve of a passing stranger, yet such an insti¬
tution cannot but be hailed by the intelligent and humane
observer as one of the most grateful ornaments of our
city ; for, as has justly been remarked, it combines in itself
the objects of all the most celebrated institutions of t ic
kind, whether at home or abroad. , , r ,
Several institutions for similar objects have been forme
on the Continent. The asylum lor the deaf and dumb
at Paris, which was under the management ol the late Abbe
Sicard has for its object not only to enable the pup,Is to
communicate their ideas and to form their understanding,
hut also to qualify them to earn their subsistence. On
ouftting IteasylL, they are all capable of following a
trade of profession. Their apprenticesh.p begins on their
first entering the institution, and is terminated with thei
instruction. This apprenticeship takes place under the
inspection of ten masters, viz. a printer, an engraver of Deaf 5
* .  .. 1 < 1 f . 1 .nwv 1-‘1 t'r ‘1 f 1 r‘1 tt-i n (r_TV!„tTV...
IliapcvLiuii wv...    1 ' , o — v* J-'cat r;
precious stones, a copperplate engraver, a drawing-master, Dun
a turner, a mosaic artist, a tailor, a shoemaker, a cabinet-
maker, and a gardener. All these masters reside in the V
asylum, and receive their board and a salary. The public
exercises, which were given once or twice a month, were
meant to excite emulation among the pupils, to make the
establishment known, to collect observations, to inculcate
the Abbe Sicard’s principles of the art of teaching, and to
illustrate their success by exhibiting experimental proofs
of the intelligence and knowledge of his pupils.
Institutions formed more or less upon the model of that
at Paris have been established in Portugal, Spain, Italy,
Switzerland, Baden, Wurtemberg, Bavaria, Austria, Prus¬
sia, Saxony, Hesse-Cassel, Nassau, Hanover, Brunswick,
the Free Towns of Germany, Belgium, Holland, Den¬
mark, Sweden, Russia, Poland, the United States of Ame¬
rica, Canada, Mexico, and Bengal, to say nothing of those
in Great Britain and France. But, in general, no attempt
is made to teach the pupils to speak. The following table
shows the absolute number of tbe deaf and dumb in each
country, and that of those who receive the benefit of edu¬
cation, compared both with the absolute number and with
that of those who remain in private :—
Countries.
Population.
I Proportion of the
Number pjeaf and Dumb
of Deaf
and Dumb
Portugal 
Spain 
France 
Italy....: 
Switzerland....
Baden 
Wurtemberg..
Bavaria 
Austria 
Prussia 
Saxony  
Saxe-Weimar.
Hesse 
Nassau 
Lippe-Schauenburg.
Hanover 
Brunswick 
Oldenburg 
Frankfort 
3,815,800
11,500,000
32,000,000
20,000,000
2,000,000
1,108,060
1,550,215
4,037,000
26,444,000
12,726,823
1,400,000
226,000
550,000
300,000
25,000
1,500,000
206,000
240,000
2,407
7,225
20,189
12,618
3,976
1,983
1,250
2,908
16,684
8,223
883
to tbe whole
Population.
142
400
210
75,000
Hamburg 
Bremen 
Belgium and Holland
Denmark 
Sweden and Norway,
Russia in Europe....
Poland  
England  
Scotland 
Ireland 
Europe 
United States 
The whole World ..
137,700
50,000
6,166,854
1,800,000
3,800,000
44,118,000
3,700,000
12,000,000
2,100,000
6,000,000
214,000,000
12,000,000
850,000,000
16
946
176
151
1 to 1585
... 1585
'... 1585
... 1585
... 503
... 559
... 1240
... 1388
... 1585
... 1548
... 1585
... 1585
... 1375
Number of
tbe Deaf and
Dumb aged
ten years.
Number
of Insti¬
tutions
1428
47
86
31
2,166
1,260
2,397
27,834
2,334
7,570
1,324
3,500
139,212
6,000
546,151
1585
1585
1170
1585
1585
1585
1585
2847
1714
1585
1585
1585
1585
1585
1714
1537
2000
1556
82
247
687
429
135
67
42
99
568
280
30
4
13
1
1
28
5
5
3
4
8
6
18
4
1
1
Number of
Pupils con¬
tained in
them.
Number
of Pupils
received
annually.
20
30
798
147
80
44
68
70
197
314
71
3
4
32
6
5
1-6
3
1
74
43
81
948
79
257
45
119
4740
204
18,596
1
1
1
5
2
1
2
1
6
3
1
114
7
128
48
6
10
20
10
4
6
159
29
16
8
14
14
39
62
14
Proportion of
educated to
those who re¬
main in private,
10
26
30
249
190
40
111
46
410
152
86
3290
411
3732
5
6
50
38
8
22
9
82
30
17
625
82
746
1 to 20-5
... 41*16
... 4-3
... 14-8
... 8-5
... 8-4
... 3
... 7-07
... 14-6
... 4-5
... 2-14
... 6-4
... 16-25
f All may be
\ instructed.
Idem.
... 16
... 1-5
... 2-5
f All may be
| instructed.
Idem.
Idem.
1-5
1-12
10-12
43-09
8-7
3-12
1- 5
7
7-2
2- 5
24-9
A Spanish Benedictine monk, of tbe convent of Saba-
gun, in Spain, named Pedro de Ponce, who died in 1584,
is the first person who is recorded to have instructed the
deaf and dumb, and taught them to speak. He has, how¬
ever, left no work upon tbe subject; though it is probable
that the substance of his method is contamed in a book
nf Rnnet secretary to tbe constable of Castille, pn
Madrid in S under the title of Arte fara ensma,a
D E A
ness hablar los Mudos. The following is a catalogue of the
principal works on this subject, or having reference to it,
p* which have since appeared, and which may be consulted
for further information.
Philocophos, or the Deaf and Dumb Man's Friend; by
Dr John Bulwer, 1648. Also, by the same author, in
1644, Chirologia, or the Natural Language of the Hand •
and Chironomia, or the Art of Manual Rhetorique.
Dr Wallace’s Grammdtica Lingua Anglicana ; and a
treatise prefixed to it, De Loquela^ ac de sonorum omnium
formatione.
A Letter from Dr Wallace to Mr Boyle, in the Philo¬
sophical Transactions for July 1670; and another from
the same, in the volume for 1698.
Helmet’s Alphabeti vere naturalis Hebraici brevissima
ZMfweaft'o, Salzburg, 1657.
In the Philosophical Transactions for January 1668,
an account is given of a small tract published the pre¬
ceding year by the same author, entitled Alphabetum Na¬
turae.
Dr Holder’s Elements of Speech, with an Appendix con¬
cerning Persons Deaf and Dumb, 1669.
, Treatise concerning those that are born Deaf and Dumb.
By George Sibscote, 1670.
G. Dalgarno’s Didascalocophus, or the Deaf and Dumb
Mans Tutor, 1680.
C. Amman’s Surdus Loquens, 1692 ; and Dissertatio de
Loquela, 1700.
Defoe’s History of Duncan Campbell, who was born
deaf and dumb, but who himself taught the deaf and dumb
to understand. London, 1720.
The Memoires presentes d TAcademic Royale, 4to, Paris,
1678, contains a valuable memoir of Periere.
Institution des Sourds et Muets, par la voie des Signes
Methodiques ; ouvrage qui contient le projet d'une Langue
Universelle, par Ventremise des Signes naturels assujettis d
me methode, Paris, 1776, an anonymous work of the Abbe
de FEpee. A new edition appeared in 1784, much al¬
tered, and with the title of La veritable maniere d'instruire
ks Sourds et Muets, confirmee par une longue experience.
This last work has been introduced into the Encyclopedie
Methodique des Arts et des Metiers, under the article Muets
et Sourds, and it was translated into English anonymously
in 1801.
An Essay on the Method of Teaching the Deaf and
Dumb to Speak, by Dr William Thornton, is to be found
in the third volume of the Transactions of the American
Philosophical Society. Philad. 1793.
Cours dInstruction dune Sourd-Muet de Naissance, et
qui peut etre utile d VEducation de ceux qui entendent et qui
parlent. Par Roch-Ambroise Sicard, Paris, 1800. A se¬
cond edition appeared in 1803.
Memoire ou Considerations sur les Sourds-Muets de Nais-
smce, et sur les moyens de donner Vouie et la parole a ceux
qui en sont susceptibles. Par U. R. T. le Bouvyer Des-
mourtiers. ' Paris, 1800.
D E A
T °lthe ^eafand Dumb. By Joseph Watson, Dealp
LL.D. 2 vols. 8vo. Lond. 1809. wy.
Theorie des Signes pour VInstruction des Sourds-Muets.
Far R. A. Sicarcb 2 tom. 8vo. Paris, 1808.
Recueil des Definitions et Reponses les plus remarquables,
de Massieu et Clerc, Sourds-Muets, aux divers questions
qui leuront ete faites, dans les Seances Publiques, de M.
j\T>M fl?ardj a Londres. Auquel on a joint VAlphabet
Manuel des Sourds-Muets, le Discours d Ouverture de M.
I Abbe Sward, et une Lettre explicative de sa Methode. Par
M. Patron de Ladebat. Avec Notes et une Traduction An-
glaise, par J. H. Sievrac. London, 1815.
Methoden-Buch zum Unterricht fur Taubstumme, von
Michael Ritter, Pfarrer zu Kallham in Ober-Oesterreich
Wien, 1828.
Der durch Gesicht und Tonsprache der Menschheit wie-
dergegebene Taubstumme, von Dr Graser. Bayreuth, 1829.
Gelegenheitliche-Aeusserungen uber menschliche Bildung,
besonders uber die Bildung der Taubstummen, von Franz
Hermann Czech. Wien, 1830.
Uebersicht der Taubstummen und der Anstalten fur deren
Bildung, in Preussichen Staate. Berlin, 1830.
Diderot, Lettre sur les Sourds-Muets.
Troisieme Circulaire de Unstitut Royal des Sourds-
Muets de Paris. Paris, 1832, 8vo.
Diderot alludes to the possibility of a child being born
at once deaf and blind, a possibility which has also been
anticipated by the Abbe Sicard, in the preliminary dis¬
course to his Cours dInstruction, where he suggests differ¬
ent methods oi instruction that might be attempted in
circumstances so apparently hopeless. The first instance
in which this deplorable combination of defects is recorded
to have occurred in any individual, is mentioned by Dr
Matson, in a quotation from the Gentleman's Magazine
for November 1808. He also adds another example in
the person of James Mitchell, whose history has excited
so much interest, and has been narrated by the masterly
pen of Mr Dugald Stewart, in a memoir published in the
Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh (vol. vii.
p. 70), and also in the appendix to the last volume of his
Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind. Mr War-
drop, who performed upon him the operation of couching,
has also given us some valuable and interesting particulars
of his case, in a separate work, entitled History of James
Mitchell, a Boy born Blind and Deaf, with an Account of
the Operation performed for the Recovery of his Sight.
(London, 4to, 1813.) In the eighth volume of the Trans¬
actions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, are to be found
Additional Communications respecting the Blind and Deaf
Boy, James Mitchell, by Dr John Gordon, a gentleman
who had paid particular attention to the case of Mitchell,
and from whom Mr Stewart acknowledges that he receiv¬
ed much of the information contained in his paper. This
volume also contains a paper on the Education of James
Mitchell, by Dr Dewar ; and an additional communication
from the same author on this subject. (y.)
659
DEAFNESS, the state of a person who wants the sense
of hearing; or the disease of the ear, which prevents the
due reception and discrimination of sounds. See Medi¬
cine.
. DEALS, a thin kind of fir-planks, of great use in car¬
pentry. They are formed by sawing the trunk of a tree
into a great many longitudinal divisions, of more or less
thickness according to the purposes which they are intend¬
ed to serve.
DEAL, a market-town of the hundred of Cornilo, in
the county of Kent, seventy-four miles from London. It
is situated on the sea-shore, facing the road-stead of the
Downs, and is celebrated as the landing-place of Julius
Caesar, and at a later period as that of Perkin Warbeck.
It consists of one long street, on the shore, and of another
which runs parallel to it. The chief trade consists in sup¬
plying the ships at anchor in the Downs, and in smuggling.
It has markets on Tuesday and Wednesday. It is also a
borough, but sends no member to parliament. The in¬
habitants amounted in 1801 to 5420, in 1811 to 7351, in
1821 to 6811, and in 1831 to 7268.
DEALPOOR, a district of Hindustan, in the province
660
Dean
II
Death.
D E A
of Moultan, and situated about the thirty-first degree of
north latitude. It is annually overflowed by the waters
of the rivers 13eyah and Suttledge* and is famous for its
pastures, on which are reared not only fine cattle, but an
excellent breed of horses, from which the British cavalry
are recruited. The chief town is Debalpoor. This coun¬
try now belongs to the Sikks.
DEAN, an ecclesiastical dignitary in cathedral and col¬
legiate churches, and head of the chapter. t .
The Rural-DEAN, called also Arch-Presbyter, originally
exercised jurisdiction over ten churches in the country, and
afterwards became only the bishop’s substitute, in order
to grant letters of administration, probate of wills, and
the like; to convocate the clergy, and signify to them,
sometimes by letter, the bishop’s will; and to give induc¬
tion to the archdeacon. The office is now merged in that
of the archdeacons and chancellors.
Dean of a Monastery, was a superior established under
thd abbot, to assist him in taking care of the monks ; from
which he was called decanus.
Dean and Chapter, are the council of the bishop, to as¬
sist him with their advice in affairs of religion, and also in
the temporal concerns of his see. When the rest of the
clergy were settled in the several parishes of each dio¬
cese, these were reserved for the celebration of divine
service in the bishop’s own cathedral; and the chief of
them, who presided over the rest, obtained the name of
decanus or dean, being probably at first appointed to su¬
perintend ten canons or prebendaries.
All ancient deans are elected by the chapter by conge
d'elire from the king, and letters missive of recommenda¬
tion, in the same manner as bishops; but in those chap¬
ters which were founded by Henry VIII. out of the spoils
of the dissolved monasteries, the deanery is donative, and
the installation merely by the king s letters patent. I ie
chapter, consisting of canons or prebendaries, is some¬
times appointed by the king, sometimes by the bishop,
and sometimes elected.
The dean and chapter are the nominal electors of a
bishop. The bishop is their ordinary and immediate su¬
perior ; and has, generally speaking, the power of visiting
them, and of correcting their excesses and enormities.
They had also a check on the bishop at common law; for
until the statute of 32 Hen. VIII. c. 28, his grant or lease
would not have bound his successors, unless it had been
confirmed by the dean and chapter.
DEANERY, is the office of a dean. Deaneries and pre¬
bends may become void like a bishopric, by death, by
deprivation, or by resignation either to the king or bishop.
If a dean, prebendary, or other spiritual person, be made
a bishop, all the preferments of which he was before pos¬
sessed become void; and the king may present to them m
right of his royal prerogative. They are not void by the
election, however, but only by the consecration.
DEARGOUN, an elevated country of Hindustan, in
certainty of death,
in 1620, does not
before Pope Paul
D E A
This order, by its constitutions made Lea:
seem to have been established long Wat
V. In 1621, Louis XIII. permitted
them to settle in France. The order was probably sup¬
pressed by Pope Urban VIII.
DEATH-Watch, in Natural History, a little insect fa¬
mous for a ticking noise, like the beat of a watch, which
the vulgar have long regarded as a presage of death in
the family where it is heard; and hence it is also called
pediculus fatidicus, mortisaga, pulsatorius, &c.
There are two kinds of death-watches. Of the first we
have a good account by Mr Allen in the Philosophical
Transactions. It is a small beetle, five sixteenths of an
inch long, of a dark-brown colour, spotted, and having
pellucid wings under the vagina, a large cap or helmet
on the head, and two antennae proceeding from beneath
the eyes, and doing the office of proboscides. The part
it beats withal, he observed, was the extreme edge of the
face, which he calls the upper lip, the mouth being pro¬
tected by this bony part, and lying out of view under¬
neath.
The above account is confirmed by Dr Derham; with
this difference, that instead of ticking with the upper lip,
he observed the insect draw back its mouth, and beat with
its forehead. That author had two death-watches, a male
and a female, which he kept alive in a box several months;
and could bring one of them to beat whenever he pleased,
by imitating its beating. By means of this ticking noise
he could frequently invite the male to get up upon the
other in the way of coition. When the male found he had
mounted in vain, he would get off, beat very eagerly, and
then get up again; hence the ingenious author concludes
that these insects woo one another by means of such pulsa¬
tions, and thus find out and invite each other to copulation.
The second kind of death-watch is an insect in appear¬
ance quite different from the first. The former only beats
seven or eight strokes at a time, and these quickly; the
latter will beat several hours together without intermission,
but his strokes are more leisurely, and resemble the beat of
a watch. This latter is a small grayish insect, much like
a louse when viewed with the naked eye.
It is commonly found in all parts of a house in the sum¬
mer months; and it is very nimble in running to shelter,
and shy of beating when disturbed; but it will beat very
freely before you, and also answer the beating, if you can
view it without giving it disturbance, or shaking the place
where it lies. The author cannot say whether they beat
on any other substance, but he never heard their noise ex¬
cept in or near paper. As to their noise, the same per¬
son is in doubt whether it be made by their heads, or rather
snouts, against the paper; or whether it be not effected at-
ter some such manner as grasshoppers and crickets make
their noise. He inclines to adopt the former opinion. I he
reason of his doubt is, that he observed the animal s body
to shake and give a jerk at every beat, but could scarcely
DEARGOUJN, an elevated country ui xnuuu^an, .v,   ;t„ hnriv touch the paper. But its
the province of Assam, situated on one of the branches o perceive ai y 11 paper and its motion in
the Brahmaputra river, and in which there is a celebrated body is so sn ^ he thinksP itP might be so without
Hindu temple. .
DEATH is generally considered as the separation ot
the soul from the body; in which sense it stands opposed
to life, which consists in the union of both.
Physicians usually define death as consisting of a total
stoppage of the circulation of the blood, and a cessation ot
the animal and vital functions consequent thereon; as
respiration, sensation, and the like.
Brothers of Death, a denomination usually given to re¬
ligious persons of the order of St Paul, the fiist hermit.
They are called “ brothers of death,”/rafres d morte, on
account of the figure of a death’s head which they were
always to have in their custody, to remind them of the
ticking is so quick, that he thinks it might be so without
his perceiving it. The ticking, as in the other, le ju ges
to be a wooing act; having observed another, after muc
beating, come and make advances to the beating msec ,
who, after some offers, left off beating, and got upon he
back of the other. When they were joined, he RR °ff agam,
and they continued some hours joined tail to tail, like ao
and bitch in coition. Whether this insect changes
shape, and becomes another animal, or not, he could not y,
though he had some reason to suspect that it bef° „
sort of fly. It is at first a minute white egg, much s
er than the nits of lice, though the insect is nearly as big
as a louse. In March it is hatched, and creeps about
DEC
ham with its shell on. When it first leaves its shell, it is even
smaller than its egg; though that be scarcely discernible
an- without a microscope. In this state it is perfectly like
the mites in cheese. From the mite state these insects
grow gradually to their mature perfect state. When they
become like the old ones, they are at first very small, but
run about much more swiftly than before.
DEBENHAM, a town in the hundred of Thredling,
in Suffolk, eighty-two miles from London and twelve from
Ipswich. The population amounted in 1801 to 1215, in 1811
to 1224, in 1821 to 1535, and in 1831 to 1629.
DEBENTURE, a term of trade used at the custom¬
house for a kind of certificate signed by the officers of the
customs, which entitles a merchant exporting goods to the
receipt of a bounty or drawback.
DEBRECZYN, or Debretzin, a city of Hungary, in
the province of Farther Theis, and the capital of the circle
of Sarrether. Next to Pest, it is the most considerable
place in the kingdom. It is an ill-built open town, con¬
taining one Catholic, two reformed, and two Greek
churches, several hospitals and monasteries, and 3000
houses, with about 40,000 inhabitants. These find em¬
ployment in various manufactures, of woollen cloth, iron
and steel articles, leather, mineral alkali, tobacco, earthen¬
ware, and other coarse goods, for the supply of the coun¬
try. There is a college for the Protestants, with seven
professors, 550 students, and a library consisting of 20,000
volumes. There is also a Catholic gymnasium and free
grammar school. It is 165 miles east-south-east from
Vienna. Long. 21. 31. 5. E. Lat. 47. 31. 40. N.
DEBRUIZED, in Heraldry, a term peculiar to the
English, by which is intimated the grievous restraint of
any animal debarred of its natural freedom, by any of the
ordinaries being laid over it.
DEBT, National. See England, and Funding
System.
DECADE, a word used by some old writers for the
number ten, and decades for an enumeration by tens. The
word is formed from the Latin decas, which is derived
from a Greek word of the same import.
DECAGON, in Geometry, a plain figure with ten sides
and ten angles.
DECALOGUE, the ten precepts or commandments
delivered by God to Moses, after engraving them on two
tables of stone.
The Jews, by way of excellence, call these command¬
ments the ten words, from which they had afterwards the
name of decalogue; but it is to be observed that they
joined the first and second into one, and divided the last
into two. They understand that against stealing to re¬
late to the stealing of men, or kidnapping; alleging that
the stealing of one another’s goods or property is forbidden
in the last commandment.
The Emperor Julian objected to the decalogue, that the
precepts it contained, with the exception of those which
concern the worship of false gods and the observation of
the Sabbath, were already so familiar to all nations, and
so universally received, that they were unworthy, for that
very reason, to be delivered by so great a legislator to so
peculiar a people.
DECCAN, or the Country of the South, formerly in¬
cluded, according to the Hindu geographers, the whole of
the countries situated to the south of the river Nerbuddah ;
at last, however, it came to apply to the country which was
situated between this river and the Krishna, the latter
being for a long period the southern boundary of the Ma-
hommedan possessions in India, and to the present day
it bears this popular acceptation. In 1690, when the Dec-
can was subdued by Aurungzebe, it was divided into six
soubahs or viceroyalties, namely, 1. Khandesh; 2. Aurun-
DEC
661
gabad or Ahmednuggur; 3. Beder or Kalbergah; 4. Hyder- Decanta-
abad; o. Lejapoor; and 6. the Province of Berar. The chief tion
par o t le population is Hindu, especially in those pro- H
vinces which are under the Mahratta government. In those
parts which are under the dominion of the nizam the Ma-
hommedan population is considerable; but those who are
cultivators of the soil have partly adopted the manners and
customs of the Hindus. The Mahrattas who inhabit the
Deccan are a peaceable and industrious race, among whom
very few crimes occur. The cottages in which the natives
reside are small and mean, with steep thatched roofs, and
very low side-walls of loose stones; and there is a general
appearance of poverty both in the dress and farming im¬
plements of the people. A supply of English manufac¬
tures, consisting of woollen, English chintzes, knives,
scissors, &c. are introduced into this country by travel¬
ling merchants, who purchase them at Bombay, and retail
them all oyer the Deccan. The Deccan, says Bishop He-
ber, is in its general character a barren country, and its
population evidently falls short of the average of Europe.
It is destitute of trees. Its climate is highly praised during
the rainy and cool seasons, and the hot winds are of no
long duration.
' 1° early times this country was possessed by the rajah
of ielingana and other Hindu princes. It was first invad¬
ed by the Mahommedans in the year 1293, who plundered
the country. In the year 1323 the Mahommedans made
still greater progress in its conquest, and the Hindu dy¬
nasty was extirpated. The independent monarchy of the
Bhamenee sultans was established in 1347, which conti¬
nued till the year 1518. It was on the dissolution of this
empire that the Deccan was subdivided into five states;
and during the reign of Aurungzebe, in the latter half of
the seventeenth century, all those states were reduced,
and the Deccan annexed to the kingdom of Delhi, when
it was divided into six governments, as stated above. In
the subsequent reigns, when the great empire of Aurung¬
zebe fell into decay, the nizam, taking advantage of the
weak state of the court of Delhi after the Persian invasion
in 1739, threw off his allegiance, became an independent
sovereign, and fixed his court at Hyderabad. But the
rise of the Mahratta power circumscribed his dominions,
and he was obliged to cede to them the territories which
formerly belonged to the peshwa and the rajah of Berar.
DECANTATION, among chemists and others, the gent¬
ly pouring off a liquor from its faeces, by inclining the lip
or canthus of the vessel; and hence the name.
DEC ANUS, in Roman antiquity, an officer who presid¬
ed over the other ten officers, and was head of the contu-
bernium, or serjeant of a file of soldiers.
DECAPOL1S, in Ancient Geography, a district beyond
Jordan, almost all of it belonging to the half tribe of Ma-
nasseh; before the captivity called Bethsan, but afterwards
occupied by the heathen, who could not be driven out of it.
It comprised, as the name denotes, ten principal cities on
the other side the Jordan, if we except Scythopolis, which
stood on this side, but had its territory on the other.
DECAPROTI, Decemprimi, in Roman antiquity, of¬
ficers for gathering the tributes and taxes.
The decaproti were also obliged to pay for the dead, or
to answer to the emperor for the quota of such as died out
of their own estates.
DECASTYLE, in the ancient architecture, a building
with ten columns in front, such as the temple of Jupiter
Olympius.
DECEMBER, the last month of the year, in which the
sun enters the tropic of Capricorn, and makes the winter
solstice. In Romulus’s year, December was the tenth
month, and hence the name is probably composed of decern,
ten, and ab vere, from the spring; for the Romans began
662
DEC
Decern- their year in March. The month of December was under
peda the protection of Vesta. Romulus assigned it thirty days,
11 and Numa reduced it to twenty-nine, but Julius Caesar in-
Decemviri. creage(j jt to thirty-one. Under the reign of Commodus,
this month was called, by way of flattery, Amazonius, in
honour of a courtezan whom that prince passionately loved,
and had got painted like an Amazon ; but it only retained
the name during that emperor’s life. At the latter end of
this month were celebrated the ludi juveniles; and the
country people kept the feast of the goddess Vacuna in
the fields, having then gathered in their fruits and sown
their corn, whence seems to be derived our popular festiva
r» a 11 f 1 hfir'iipct-hnm.p*
DECEMPEDA, Asxaw, ten-feet rod, an instrument
used by the ancients in measuring.
The decempeda was a rule or rod divided into ten teet;
and hence its name, from decern, ten, and pes, foot. I he
foot was subdivided into twelve inches, and each inch into
ten*digits. The decempeda was used both in the measuring
of land, like the chain among us; and by architects in giv¬
ing the proper dimensions and proportions to the parts ot
their buildings, which use it still retains. Horace (hb* ii.
od. 15), blaming the magnificence and delicacy of the build¬
ings of his time, observes, that it was otherwise in the times
of Romulus and Cato ; that in the houses of private persons
there were not then known any porticoes measured out
with the decempeda, nor turned to the north to admit the
cool air. „ , , , •
DECEMVIRI, ten magistrates of absolute authority
among the Romans. The privileges of the patricians raised
dissatisfaction among the plebeians, who, though need
from the power of the Tarquins, still saw that the admi¬
nistration of justice depended upon the will and caprice ot
their superiors, without any written statute to direct^them,
and convince the people that they were governed with
equity and impartiality. The tribunes complained to the
senate, and demanded that a code of laws might be fram¬
ed for the use and benefit of the Roman people. 'I he pe¬
tition was complied with, and three ambassadors were
sent to Athens and all the other Grecian states, to collect
the laws of Solon and of the other celebrated legislators
of Greece. Upon the return of these commissioners, it was
universally agreed that ten new magistrates, called Decem¬
viri, should be elected from the senate, in order to carry
the project into execution. Their power was absolute, all
other offices ceased after their election, and they presided
over the city with regal authority. I hey were invested
with the badges of the consul, which they held by turns;
and only one was preceded by the fasces, and had the power
of assembling the senate and confirming its decrees. The
first decemvirs were Appius Claudius, T. Genutius, P. Sex¬
tus, Sp. Veturius, C. Julius, A. Manlius, Ser. Sulpitius, Plu-
riatius, T. Romulus, and Sp. Posthumius, in the year of
Rome 302. Under them the laws, which had been ex¬
posed to public view, in order that every citizen might
speak bis sentiments, were publicly approved of as consti¬
tutional, and ratified by the priests and augurs in the most
solemn and religious manner. They were ten in number,
and were engraved on tablets of brass ; but two were after¬
wards added, and they were called the laws of the twelve
tables, leges duodecim tabularum,and leges decemvirales. The
decemviral power, which was beheld by all ranks of people
with the greatest satisfaction, was continued; but in the
third year after their creation the decemvirs became odious
on account of their tyranny; and the attempt of Appius
Claudius to ravish Virginia led to the total abolition of that
office. The people were so exasperated that they demand¬
ed of the senate to cause them to be burned alive. Con¬
suls were again appointed, and tranquillity was le-e&ta-
Wished in the state. There were other officers in Rome
DEC
called decemvirs, who were originally appointed, in the ab-I>ecer.::
sence of the praetor, to administer justice. Their appoint- ||
ment became afterwards necessary, and they generally as- Circi;
sisted at sales, called subhastationes, because a spear, hasta, ^ in;
was fixed at the door of the place where the goods were
exposed to sale. They were called decemviri litibus judi- ^l'
candis. The officers whom Tarquin appointed to guard
the Sibylline books were also called decemviri. They were
originally two in number, called duumviri, till the year of
Rome 388, when their number was increased to ten, five
of whom were chosen from the plebeians and five from the
patricians. Sylla increased their number to fifteen, so that
they were called quindecemviri.
DECENNALIA, ancient Roman festivals, celebrated
by the emperors every tenth year of their reign, with sa¬
crifices, games, and largesses for the people. The emperor
Augustus first instituted these solemnities, in which he
was imitated by his successors. At the same time the
people offered up vows for the emperor, and for the per¬
petuity of the empire, which were therefore called vota
decennalia. Augustus’s view in establishing the decennalia
was to preserve the empire and the sovereign power with¬
out offence or restraint to the people; for during the ce¬
lebration of this feast that prince used to surrender all his
authority into the hands of the people, who, filled with joy,
and charmed with the goodness of Augustus, immediately
delivered it to him again, as it was no doubt expected that
they should.
DECHALES, Claudius Frances Milliet, a mathe¬
matician, mechanic, and astronomer, descended from a
noble family, and born at Chambery in 1611. His principal
performances are an edition of Euclid s Elements of Geo¬
metry, in which the unserviceable propositions are rejected,
and the uses of those retained annexed; a discourse on for¬
tification, and another on navigation. These, with some
other pieces, were collected, first in three volumes folio,
and afterwards in four, under the title of Mundus Mathe-
maticus ; being indeed a complete course of mathematics.
He died in 1678, being then professor of mathematics in
the university of Turin.
DECIDUOUS, an appellation chiefly used in respect of
plants; thus the calyx or cup of a flower is said to be de-
ciduous when it falls along with the flower-petals; and, on
the contrary, it is called permanent when it remains after
they have fallen. Again, deciduous leaves are those which
fall in autumn, in contradistinction to those of the ever¬
greens, which remain all the winter.
DECIL, in Astronomy, an aspect or position of two pla¬
nets, when they are distant from each other a tenth part
of the zodiac.
DECIMAL Arithmetic, the art of computing by de¬
cimal fractions. See Arithmetic.
Circulating Decimals, called also recurring or repeat¬
ing decimals, are those in which a figure or several figures
are continually repeated. They are distinguished into
single and multiple, and these again into pure and mixed.
A pure single circulate is that in which one figure only
is repeated; as -222, &c. and is marked thus -2.
A pure multiple circulate is that in which several figures
are continually repeated ; as *232323, &c. marked *23; and
•524524, &c. marked *524.
A mixed single circulate is that which consists of a ter¬
minate part and a single repeating figure; as 4*222, &c.
or 4*2. And _ .
A mixed multiple circulate is that which contains a er.
minate part with several repeating figures; as 45,524.
That part of the circulate which repeats is called the re-
petend; and the whole repetend, supposed to be infinite y
continued, is equal to a vulgar fraction whose numerator
1
ia
DEC
a. is the repeating number or figures, and its denominator
the same number of nines ; so -2 is = f; and -23 is = ||;
a- and *52i is —
Dr Wallis, it appears, was the first who distinctly con-
^ sidered or treated of infinite circulating decimals, as he
himself informs us in bis Treatise of Infinites.
DECIMATION, a punishment inflicted by the Romans
on such soldiers as quitted their posts, or behaved them¬
selves in a cowardly manner in the field. The names of the
guilty were put into an urn or helmet, and as many having
been drawn out as made the tenth part of the whole num¬
ber, these were put to the sword and the others saved.
This was called decimare, a word of the ancient Roman
disciplinarians, who, to punish whole legions when they had
failed in their duty, made every tenth soldier draw lots,
and put him to death as an example to the others,
i As the Romans had their decimatio, they had also the
vicesimatio, and even centesimatio, when only the twentieth
or hundredth man suffered by lot.
DECIPHERING, the art of finding the alphabet of a
cipher, or discovering a method of reading an unknown
character or tongue. See Cipher.
DECIUS Mus, a celebrated Roman consul, who, after
many glorious exploits, devoted himself to the gods manes
for the safety of his country in a battle against the Latins,
about 340 years before the Augustan age. His son De-
cius imitated his example, and devoted himself in like
manner in his fourth consulship, when fighting against the
Gauls and Samnites. His grandson also did the same thing
in the war against Pyrrhus and the Tarentines. This action
of devoting one’s self was of infinite service to the state.
The soldiers were animated by the example, and induced
to follow with intrepidity a commander who, arrayed in an
unusual dress, and addressing himself to the gods with
solemn invocation, rushed into the thickest part of the
enemy to meet his fate.
DECIZE, a city of the department of the Nievre, in
France, upon an island in the Loire. It contains 158 houses,
and 2468 inhabitants. Some good coal is obtained near
this place. Long. 3. 31. 3. E. Lat. 46. 50. 24. N.
DECK of a Ship (from decken, to cover), the planked
floors of a ship, which connect the sides together, and serve
as platforms to support the artillery and lodge the men, as
also to preserve the cargo from the sea in merchant vessels.
See Ship-building.
FIus/i-Deck implies a continued floor laid from stem to
stern, upon one line, without any stops or intervals.
Half-DECK, a space under the quarter-deck of a ship of
war, contained between the foremost bulk-head of the
steerage and the fore-part of the quarter-deck. In the
colliers of Northumberland the steerage itself is called the
half-deck, and is usually the habitation of the crew.
DECKNALL, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Cuttack, thirty-eight miles north-north-west from the town
of Cuttack. Long. 85. 55. L. Lat. 21. 1. N.
DECLA, a town of Hindustan, in the province of Ca-
nara, on the coast of Malabar, thirty miles south from Man¬
galore, near to which are the ruins of an extensive wall or
rampart, which divides the province from Malabar. Long.
75. 6. E. Lat. 12. 26. N.
DECLAMATION, a speech made in public, in the tone
and manner of an oration, uniting the expression of action
to propriety of pronunciation, in order to give the sentiment
its full impression upon the mind. According to the man ¬
ners and customs of the present age, public harangues are
made only in the pulpit, in the senate, council, or other
public assembly; by public professors; or in the theatre.
1. With regard to the declamation of the pulpit, the
dignity and sanctity of the place, and the importance of
DEC
663
the subject, require that the preacher shall exert the ut- Declama-
most powers of his voice, in order to produce a pronuncia- tion
ion w nc i is peifectly distinct and harmonious, and that
he shall observe a deportment and action which are ex¬
pressive and graceful. No man, therefore, who is destitute
of a voice should ascend the pulpit, and there act the part
of a pantomime or posture-master before his audience.
Ihe preacher should not, however, bellow like a common
crier, and rend the ear with a voice of thunder; for such
kind of declamation is not only without meaning and with¬
out persuasion, hut highly incongruous with the meek and
benignant genius of the gospel. He should likewise take
particular care to avoid monotony; his voice should rise
from the beginning, as it were, by degrees, and its greatest
strength should be exerted in the application. Each in¬
flection of the voice should be adapted to the phrase, and
to the meaning of the words ; and each remarkable expres¬
sion should have its peculiar inflection. The dogmatic
requires a plain, uniform tone of voice only; but the me¬
naces of the gospel demand a greater force than its pro¬
mises and rewards; the latter should not be pronounced
in the soft tone of a flute, nor the former with the loud
sound oi a trumpet. I he voice should still retain its na-
tuial tone in all its various inflections. Happy indeed is
that preacher to whom nature has given a voice which
is at once strong, flexible, and harmonious. An air of
complacency and benevolence, as well as devotion, should
be constantly visible in the countenance of the preacher.
But every appearance of affectation must be carefully
avoided; for nothing is so hateful in itself, or disgusting
to an audience, as even the semblance of dissimulation.
An air of affected devotion infallibly destroys the efficacy
of all that the preacher can say, however just and import¬
ant it may be. On the other hand, he must avoid every
appearance of mirth or raillery, or of that cold unfeeling
manner which is so apt to freeze the hearts and chill the
feelings of his hearers. In a word, declamation is an art
that the sacred orator should study with the utmost assi¬
duity. The design of a sermon is to convince, to affect,
and to persuade. The voice, the countenance, and the
action, which are to produce this triple4 effect, are there¬
fore the objects to which the preacher should particularly
apply himself.
2. The declamation of a minister or statesman in the
senate, in council, or in any other public assembly, is of a
more unconfined nature. To persuade, to move the pas¬
sions, and to gain an ascendency in a public assembly, the
orator should himself feel the force of what he says, and
the declamation should only express that internal sensa¬
tion. But nothing should ever be carried to excess. A
suavity in the tone of voice, a dignity of deportment, a
graceful action, and a certain tranquillity of countenance,
should constantly accompany the statesman when he speaks
in public, even when he is most earnestly engaged in
debate, or when he is addressing his sovereign in person.
A pleasing tone of voice and a distinct pronunciation pre¬
judice the hearers greatly in the speaker’s favour. A
young man may improve these qualifications to a surprising
degree. Demosthenes, who had a natural impediment in
his speech, was accustomed to go to the sea-shore, and
partly filling his mouth with pebbles, to declaim with a
loud voice against the breaking billows. The stones by
degrees gave a volubility to his tongue, and the roaring of
the waves reconciled him insensibly to the noise of a popu¬
lar assembly.
3. The principal object of a public professor is the in¬
struction of the studious youth; for which purpose it is
his business to convince and persuade. Every tone of
voice, every expression of the countenance, or action of
the body, which can produce this effect by enforcing the
DEC
words, should therefore be employed by those whose duty
it is to teach the science. There is, moreover, one very
essential reflection which every professor ought to make,
namely, that the chair from which he harangues is sur¬
rounded by young students, naturally possessed of great
vivacity, not unfrequently alive to a sense of the ludicrous,
and for the most part previously instructed in the prepa¬
ratory sciences. They are therefore constantly inclined
to criticise, to jest, and to ridicule ; for which reason the
professor should endeavour to inspire them with respect
and attention, by a grave, commanding, and venerable coun¬
tenance, carefully avoiding all appearance of grimace in
his action, and every kind of affectation in his discourse,
that he may not afford the least opportunity for indulging
in pleasantry.
4. With regard to theatric declamation, this was very
different among the ancients from what it is and ought to
be among us, both from the nature of the thing itself, and
from the difference of circumstances. Numberless pas¬
sages in Quintilian, and other ancient historians, critics,
grammarians, and commentators, evidently prove that the
ancient dramatic declamation was subservient to the lules
of the musical rhythmus ; and by this, according to Aris¬
tides, their action, as well as recitation, was regulated. But
to explain this seeming paradox, it will be necessary here
to make some preliminary remarks. The ancients gave
a much more extensive signification than we do to the
word music, which they derived from the muses, or at least
from some of them. It is for this reason that Aristides
and Quintilian both defined it to be an art which teaches
all that relates to the use of the voice, and the manner of
performing every motion of the body with grace: Ars
decoris in vocibus et motibus. Poetry, declamation, dan¬
cing, pantomimes, and many other gestures and exercises,
were therefore subservient to this art.
That part of general music which taught the art of
declamation and gesture according to the rules of an
established method, and which we perform by instinct,
or at most by the aid of common sense, was distinguished
by the name hypocritic music; and this musical art was
called by the Greeks orchesis, and by the Romans saltatio.
It was so far, however, from being an advantage to the
ancients to have had this art, which we have not, that it
was, on the contrary, a mark of great imperfection. For,
in the first place, it was an instance of great absurdity to
represent a tragedy or comedy before an audience of
twenty thousand people, the far greater part of whom
could neither hear nor see what passed to any good pur¬
pose, unless they were possessed of organs which we have
not. The theatres of London and Paris can conveniently
contain at the most only a few thousand persons, and that
is found sufficient in the most populous cities, where there
are several places of entertainment on the same day, and
where the people are reasonable enough to succeed one
another in their diversions. As the features of the face
could not be distinguished at so great a distance, and still
less the expression of the countenance, so, in order to
represent the different passions, they were obliged to have
recourse to masks, a wretched and childish invention,
which destroyed all the strength and variety of expression.
Their action became extravagant, and at the same time
subservient to a regular mechanism, which prevented all
the refinement, and all the pleasure of surprise, in the
performance, and must have had an effect horribly disa¬
greeable to those who had the misfortune to be placed
near the stage.
The peculiar nature of their language too, which con¬
sisted of syllables long and short, the duration of which
was determined by a set measure of time, and their man¬
ner of tuning these syllables, after the method of the
DEC
orchesis of the Greeks, was another disadvantage; for Dec^
by this means they determined, by notes or characters tic
placed after the long and short syllables, not only the na-v,.
ture, but the duration of each action. Now nothing could
be more affected, more constrained and disgusting, than
such a method of declaiming. In this respect the mo¬
derns, who consult nature alone in their theatric declama¬
tion, who can make the audience hear each sigh, who can
accompany it with a proper attitude, who can incessantly
vary their action, who can seize the lucky moment, and
make the countenance fully express the sensations of the
mind, possess an immense superiority over the ancients.
Nature does all here; but art, infinitely inferior to nature,
did all among the ancients. Our actors learn their art
without art, from nature herself, assisted by reflection; and
they arrive at a degree of excellence infinitely greater
than that of the ancients, by a method far more simple,
and by efforts incomparably more easy.
We do not precisely know what the theatric declama¬
tion of the ancients really was, nor what were the musi¬
cal instruments which accompanied that declamation. The
proem to the Eunuch of Terence says, for example, that
Flaccus, the freedman of Claudius, composed the music
of that piece, in which he employed the two flutes, the
right and the left; and these flutes, it is likely, gave the
tone to the actor, which must have had a very odd effect
on the audience. Most of the ancient pieces have simi¬
lar notices prefixed to them. They who desire to be parti¬
cularly informed of the art of declaiming among the Greeks
and Romans, may read to advantage the Critical Reflec¬
tions on Poetry and Painting by the Abbe du Bos. The
third part of that work consists entirely of learned re¬
searches and ingenious reflections on this practice of the
ancients. But as the art has happily no place in modem
declamation, and can at best serve only to make a parade
of erudition, we shall say no more of it in this place.
We think there is good reason to believe, moreover,
that the most polished nations of modern Europe do not
accompany their discourses in general with so many ges¬
ticulations as did the Greeks, the Romans, and other in¬
habitants of warm climates. They appear to have found
the method of animating a discourse, and giving it an ex¬
pression, by the simple inflections of the voice, and by
the features of the countenance; which is far more de¬
cent, as well as juster and more rational, than all those
contortions which perpetually derange the natural attitude
of the body and its members, and give to the speaker the
air of a harlequin.
Expression, therefore, forms at once the essence and
the end of declamation; and the means of producing it
consists in a pronunciation that is sonorous, distinct, and
pleasing, supported by an action that is decent and pro¬
per to the subject. It the best dramatic poet has need
of a good declaimer or actor to make his writings produce
their proper effect, the actor has likewise need of a good
poet to enable him to please aind affect by the action; for
it is to little purpose that he endeavours to charm his au¬
ditory by uniting with nature all the powers ot art, if the
poet has not furnished him with sentiments which are ra¬
tional and affecting. . .
DECLINATION, in Grammar, an inflection ot nouns,
according to their divers cases; as nominative, genitive,
dative, and so on. See Grammar. _
Declination, in Astronomy, the distance of any celes¬
tial object from the equinox, either northward or south¬
ward. It is either true or apparent, according as the rea
or apparent place of the object is considered.
Declination of the Sea Compass or Needle, is its va¬
riation from the true meridian of any place.
Declination of a Plane or Wall, in Dialing, is the ho-
Pec
itor
DEC
rizontal arch contained between the plane and the prime
vertical circle, reckoning from east to west, or between
the meridian and the plane, reckoning from north to
south. Many ways are used for finding this declination,
but the most easy and practicable is by a declinator.
DECLINATOR, or Declinatory, an instrument
chiefly used in practical dialing, for taking the declina¬
tions, inclinations, or reclinations of the planes on which
the dials are to be delineated. See Dialing.
DECOCTION usually signifies either the action of
boiling a substance in water, or the water itself in which
the substance has been boiled. It is only applicable to
matters containing principles soluble in water; such par¬
ticularly as animal and vegetable matters.
DECOLLATION, Beheading, a term seldom used ex¬
cept in the phrase decollation of St John Baptist; which
denotes a painting representing the Baptist’s head struck
off from his trunk, or the feast held in honour of that
martyr.
DECOMPOSITION, in Chemistry, usually signifies the
disunion or separation of the constituent parts of bodies.
See Chemistry.
DECORATION, in Architecture, any thing that adorns
and enriches a building, church, triumphal arch, or the
like, either without or within.
Decoration is more particularly applied to the scenes
of theatres. In operas and other theatrical performances,
the decorations must frequently be changed, conformably
to the subject. The ancients had two kinds of decora¬
tions for their theatres: the one, called Versailles, having
three sides or faces, which were turned successively to the
spectators; and the other, called ductiles, showing a new
decoration by drawing or sliding another before it. This
latter sort is still used, and apparently with much greater
success than among the ancients, who were obliged to
draw a curtain whenever they made a change in the de¬
corations; whereas on our stage the change is made in a
moment, and almost without its being perceived.
DECORUM, in Architecture, is the suitableness of a
building, and the several parts and ornaments thereof, to
the station and occasion.
DECOUPLE, in Heraldry, the same as uncoupled.
Thus a chevron decouple is a chevron wanting so much of
it towards the point, that the two ends stand at a distance
from one another, being parted and uncoupled.
DECOY, in naval affairs, a stratagem employed by a
ship of war to betray a vessel of inferior force into an un-
cautious pursuit, until she has drawn her within the range
of her cannon, or what is called within gun-shot distance.
It is usually performed by painting the stern and sides in
such a manner as to disguise the ship, and represent her
either as much smaller and of inferior force, or as a friend
to the hostile vessel, which she endeavours to ensnare, by
assuming the emblems and ornaments of the nation to
which the stranger is supposed to belong. When she has
thus provoked the adversary to chase, in hopes of acquir¬
ing a prize, she continues the decoy, by spreading a great
sail, as endeavouring to escape; at the same time that her
course is considerably retarded by an artful alteration of
her trim, till the enemy approaches. Decoying is also
performed in order to elude the chase of a ship of a supe¬
rior force in a dark night, by throwing out into the sea a
lighted cask of pitch, which will burn for a considerable
time, and thus mislead the enemy. Immediately after the
cask is thrown out, the ship changes her course, and may
easily escape, if at any tolerable distance from the foe.
Decoy, among fowlers, a place made for catching wild¬
fowl. A decoy is generally made where there is a large
pond surrounded by a wood, and beyond that a marshy
and uncultivated countrjL If the piece of water is not
VOL. VII.
DEC 665
thus surrounded, it will be attended with noise and other Decree
accidents, which may be expected to frighten the wild-fowl |j
rom a quiet haunt, where they mean to sleep during the D^urio.
day-time in security.
DECREE, an order made by a superior power for the
regulation of an inferior.
Decree, in the civil law, is a determination which the
empeior pronounced upon hearing a particular cause be¬
tween the plaintiff and defendant.
Decrees of Councils are the laws made by councils in
order to regulate the doctrine and policy of the church.
Decrees in Chancery are the determination of the lord
chancellor, upon a full hearing in regard to the merits of
a cause.
DECREMENT, in Heraldry, signifies the wane of the
moon from the full to the new. The moon in this state is
called moon decrescent or in decours ; and when borne in
coat armour, she faces to the left side of the escutcheon,
as she does to the right side when in the increment.
DECREPITATION, in Chemistry, signifies the quick
separation of the parts of a body, occasioned by a strong
heat, and accompanied with a crackling noise. This ef¬
fect is most frequently produced by water contained be¬
twixt the parts of the decrepitating body, when these
parts possess a certain degree of adhesion. This water
being quickly reduced into vapour by the heat suddenly
applied to it, rarefies and bursts the parts which compress
it, with a crackling noise. The bodies most subject to de¬
crepitation are certain salts, such as common salt, sulphate
of potash, nitrate of lead, and the like, the decrepitation
of all which proceeds from the water of their crystalliza¬
tion. Clays which are not perfectly dry, and flints, are
also subject to decrepitation.
DECRETAL, in the canon law, is a letter of a pope, de¬
termining some point or question in the ecclesiastical law.
The decretals compose the second part of the canon law.
The first genuine decretal, acknowledged by all the learned
as such, is a letter of Pope Siricius, written in the year 385,
to Himerus, bishop of Tarragona, in Spain, concerning
some disorders which had crept into the churches of that
coun’try. Gratian published a collection of decretals, con¬
taining all the ordinances made by the popes until the year
1150. Gregory IX. in 1227, following the example of
Theodosius and Justinian, formed a constitution of his
own, collecting into one body all the decisions and all the
causes which had served to advance the papal power;
and this collection of decretals was called the pentateuch,
because it contains five books.
DECTAN, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Malwah, situated among the Vinduya Mountains, 28 miles
south from Oojain. Long. 75. 40. E. Lat. 22. 49. N.
DECUMATES Agri, tithed fields, or fields granted
on a tithe, as appears from Tacitus, to the rabble of Gauls
who succeeded the Marcomanni, who had till then proved
a check to the Roman conquests up the Rhine ; and hence
probably their name, which signifies people living on the
marches or limits of the empire. In Cicero we meet with
Ager Decumans, which is of the same import with the Ayer
Decumans of Tacitus.
DECUPLE Proportion, that of ten to one.
DECURIO, a subaltern officer in the Roman armies.
He commanded a decuria, which consisted of ten men,
and was the third part of a turma, or the thirtieth part of
a legion of horse, which was composed of 580 men. There
were certain magistrates in the provinces, called decuriones
municipales, who represented the Roman senate in free and
corporate towns. As the name implies, they consisted
often; and their duty was to watch over the interests of
their fellow citizens, and to increase the revenues of the
commonwealth. Their court was called curia decurionum
4 p
666
Decury
DEE
Dee.
and minor senatus ; and their decrees, called decreta decu-
rionum, were marked with two D s at the top. They
o-enerally styled themselves civitatum patres curiales, and
lionorati municipiorum senatorum. They were elected with
the same ceremonies as the Roman senators; they re¬
quired to be at least twenty-five years of age, and to be
possessed of a certain sum of money. The election took
place in the kalends of March.
DECURY, ten persons ranged under one chief or leader,
called the decurio. The Roman cavalry was divided into
decuries, which were subdivisions of a century, each cen¬
tury containing ten decuries.
DECUSSATION, a term in geometry, optics, and ana¬
tomy, signifying the crossing of two lines, rays, or nerves,
when they meet in a point, and then proceed separately.
DECUSSORIUM, a surgeon’s instrument, which, by
pressing gently on the dura mater, causes an evacuation
of the pus collected between the cranium and the mem¬
brane just mentioned, through the perforation made by the
^DEDDINGTON, a town of the hundred of Wootton,
in Oxfordshire, sixty-nine miles from London, and seven¬
teen from Oxford. In the neighbourhood are two medi¬
cinal springs. It has a market, which is held on Saturday.
The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to W12, in 1811 to
1296, in 1821 to 1404, and in 1831 to 1590.
DEDHAM, a town of the hundred of Lexden, m the
county of Essex, fifty-three miles from London, and situ¬
ated in a pleasant valley on the river Stour. It has a good
market on Thursday. The inhabitants amounted in 1801
to 1537, in 1811 to* 1432, in 1821 to 1651, and m 1831 to
1770. . . .
DEDICATION, the act of consecrating a temple, altar,
statue, palace, or other work, to the honour of some deity.
The use of dedications is very ancient, both amongst the
worshippers of the true God and amongst the heathens.
In the Scripture we meet with dedications of the taber-
nacle, of altars, of the first and second temple, and even
of the houses of private persons. There were also dedica¬
tions of vessels and garments of the priests and Levites,
and even of the men themselves. The heathens had like-
wise dedications of temples, altars, and images of t eir
gods. Nebuchadnezzar made a solemn dedication of his
statue. Pilate at Jerusalem dedicated gilt bucklers to
Tiberius ; in like manner Petronius would have dedicated
a statue to the emperor in the same city; and iacitus
mentions the dedication of the capitol, upon its being re¬
built by Vespasian. .
The Jews every year celebrated the anniversary ot the
dedication of their temple for eight days. Ihis was first
enjoined by Judas Maccabeus, and the whole synagogue,
in the year of the Syro-Macedonian era 148, or 164 years
before Christ. The heathens had similar anniversaries,
as that of the dedication of the temple of Parthenope, men¬
tioned by Lycophron. Under Christianity, dedication is
only applied to a church, and is properly the consecra¬
tion thereof, performed by a bishop, with a number of
ceremonies prescribed by the church.
The Christians finding themselves in possession of liber¬
ty under Constantine, instead of their ruinous churches,
built new ones in every place, and dedicated these with
much solemnity. The dedication was usually performed
in a synod; at least a number of bishops was assembled
to assist at the service. The description ot those of the
churches at Jerusalem and lyre may be found in Euse¬
bius, and many others in later writers.
Dedication, in literature, is an address prefixed to a
book, soliciting patronage, or testifying respect for the pei-
son to whom it is inscribed.
DEE, John, a mathematician and astrologer, was born
DEE
in July 1527, at London, where his father was a wealthy Di»
vintner. In 1542 he was sent to St John’s College, Cam-
bridge. After five years’ close application to mathema¬
tical studies, particularly astronomy, he went to Holland,
in order to visit several eminent mathematicians on the
Continent. Having continued abroad nearly a year, he
returned to Cambridge, and was there elected one of the
fellows of Trinity College, then first erected by King
Henry VIII. In 1548 he took the degree of master of
arts ; and in the same year he left England a second time,
his stay at home being rendered unpleasant by the suspi¬
cions which were entertained of his being a conjuror;
suspicions arising partly from his application to astronomy,
but especially on account of a piece of machinery in the
E/gTji'Jj of Aristophanes, which he exhibited to the univer¬
sity, and in which he represented the scarabseus flying up
to Jupiter, with a man and a basket of victuals on its back.
These suspicions he could never after shake off; nor did
his subsequent conduct, as we shall see, tend to clear him
of the imputation; for if he was not actually a conjuror,
it was not from want of endeavours to become one.
Upon leaving England he repaired to the University of
Louvain, where he was much esteemed, and visited by
several persons of high rank. Here he resided about two
years, and then set out for France, where, in the college of
Rheims, he read lectures on Euclid’s Elements with great
applause. In 1551 he returned to England, and was in¬
troduced by the secretary Cecil to King Edward, who
assigned him a pension of a hundred crowns, which he
afterwards relinquished for the rectory of Upton-upon-
Severn ; but soon after the accession of Queen Mary, hav¬
ing had some correspondence with the Lady Elizabeth’s
servants, he was accused of practising against the queen s
life by enchantment. On this account he suffered a te¬
dious confinement, and was several times examined; but
in the year 1555, he obtained his liberty by an order of
council.
When Queen Elizabeth ascended the throne, Dee was
consulted by Lord Dudley concerning a propitious day for
her majesty’s coronation. On this occasion he was in¬
troduced to the queen, who made him great promises,
which were never performed, though she condescended
to receive his instructions relative to the mystical inter¬
pretation of some of his unintelligible writings, which he
published about this time. In 1564 he made another
voyage to the Continent, in order to present a book which
he had dedicated to the Emperor Maximilian. He return¬
ed to England in the same year; but in 1571 we find him
in Lorrain, where, being dangerously ill, two physicians
were sent to his relief by the queen. Having once more
returned to his native country, he settled at Mortlake, m
Surrey, where he continued his studies with unremitting
ardour, and collected a considerable library of curious
books and manuscripts, and a variety of instruments, most
of which were afterwards destroyed by the mob, as be¬
longing to one who dealt with the devil. In 1578, the
queen being then much indisposed, Mr Dee was sent
abroad to consult with German physicians and philoso¬
phers, or rather astrologers, on the occasion. But having
returned to England, he was soon afterwards employed
in a more rational service. Her majesty, desirous to be
informed concerning her title to those countries which had
been discovered by her subjects, commanded Mr Dee to
consult the ancient records, and to furnish her with pro¬
per geographical descriptions. Accordingly, in a ®10
time he presented to the queen, in the gardens at Rich¬
mond, two large rolls, in which the discovered countries
were geographically described and historically illustrated.
These rolls are preserved in the Cotton Library. His next
employment was the reformation of the calendar, a suo-
DEE
e ject on which he wrote a rational and learned treatise, still
preserved in the Ashmolean Library at Oxford.
prs. Hitherto the extravagancies of our eccentrical philoso-
pher seem to have been counteracted by a tolerable pro¬
portion of reason and science; but henceforward we must
consider him as a mere necromancer and credulous alchy-
mist. In the year 1581, he became acquainted with one
Edward Kelly, by whose assistance he performed divers
incantations, and maintained a frequent imaginary inter¬
course with spirits. He was particularly intimate, it seems,
with the angels Raphael and Gabriel, one of whom made
him a present of a black speculum, in which his angels and
demons appeared as often as he had occasion for them;
they also answered his questions, and Kelly’s business was
merely to record their dictates. In 1583, Kelly and Dee
were both introduced to a certain Polish nobleman, then
in England, named Albert Laski, palatine of Siradia, a per¬
son addicted to the same ridiculous pursuits ; and the Pole
was so charmed with Dee and his companion, that he per¬
suaded them to accompany him to his native country.
They accordingly embarked for Holland in September
1583, and travelling over land, arrived at the town of Laski
in February following. Their patron, however, finding
himself abused by their idle pretensions, persuaded them
to pay a visit to Rodolph, king of Bohemia, who, though a
credulous man, was soon disgusted with their nonsense.
They w^ere afterwards introduced to the king of Poland,
but with no better success. Soon after this they were
invited by a rich Bohemian nobleman to his castle of Tre-
bona, where they continued for some time in great afflu¬
ence, owing, as they asserted, to their art of transmutation
by means of a certain powder in the possession of Kelly.
But Dee having quarrelled with his companion, quitted
Bohemia, and returned to England, where he -was once
more graciously received by the queen, who in 1595 made
him warden of Manchester College, in which town he re¬
sided several years. In 1604, he returned to his house at
Mortlake, where he died in the year 1608, aged eighty-
one, leaving a large family and many works behind him.
The principal works which Dee printed and published
are, 1. PropcEdumata Aphoristica, London, 1558, in 12mo;
2. Monas Hieroglyphica, Antwerp, 1564; 3. Epistola ad
Ftedericum Commandinum, Pisauri, 1570; 4. Preface to
the English Euclid, 1570; 5. Divers Annotations and In¬
ventions added to the tenth book of the English Euclid,
1570 ; 6. Epistola prcejixa Ephemeridibus Joannis Feldi,
a 1557; 7. Parallaticce Commentationis Praxeosque nu¬
cleus quidam, London, 1573. The catalogue of Dee’s
printed and published works is to be found in his Compen¬
dious Rehearsal, as well as in his letter to Archbishop
Whitgift, to which the reader is referred.
Dee, the name of several rivers in Scotland and Eng¬
land, as those on which the cities of Chester in England,
and New Aberdeen in Scotland, are situated.
DEED, an instrument written on paper or parchment,
comprehending some contract, bargain, or agreement be¬
tween the parties thereto, in relation to the matter there¬
in contained.
DEEG, a town and celebrated fortress in the province
of Agra, belonging to the Jauts. In 1760 this place was
occupied and strongly fortified by Soorag Mull, the rajah
of the Jauts. In 1776 it was taken from that tribe by
Nujuff Khan, after a siege of twelve months, but was soon
afterwards restored to them. In 1805, the Mahratta army,
commanded by Holkar, was defeated under its walls by
Lord Lake, who, to the great astonishment of all the In¬
dian powers, took this place, supposed to be impregnable,
by storm. At the conclusion of peace, it was restored to
the Rajah Runjeet Sing. Long. 77. 17. E. Lat. 27. 30. N.
DEEMSTERS, or Demsters, from the Saxon dema,
D E F
667
judge or umpire. All controversies in the Isle of Man Deeping-
are decided without process, writings, or any charges, by Market,
certain judges, chosen yearly from among the people,
called deemsters, Ah ere being two of them for each division 2fnder‘
of the island. I he deemsters sit as judges in all courts,
eit ici for hie or property; and, with the advice of twenty-
foui keys, declare what is law in uncommon emergencies.
DEEPING-MARKET, a town of the hundred of
and division of Kesteven, in the county of Lincoln, eighty-
eight miles from London. It is situated in a fenny but
fertile district on the river Welland. The market-day is
Thursday. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 803, in
1811 to 899, in 1821 to 1016, and in 1831 to 1091.
DEER. See Mammalia.
DEERLYK, a market-town in the circle of Courtrai,
and province of West Flanders, containing 4340 inhabi¬
tants.
_ DEES, or Deesch, a market-town in the Austrian pro¬
vince Siebenbergen, at the junction of the two rivers Sza¬
mos, containing a Catholic, a reformed, and a Lutheran
church, and a Franciscan convent, with about 2200 inha¬
bitants.
DEFAMATION, the speaking slanderous words of ano¬
ther ; for which the slanderer is punishable, according to
the nature of his offence, either by action upon the case
at common law, or by statute in the ecclesiastical court.
DEFAULT, in Laiv, is generally taken for non-appear¬
ance in court at a day assigned ; but it imports any omis¬
sion of that which we ought to do, for which judgment
may be given against the defaulter.
DEFECTION, the act of abandoning or relinquishing a
party or interest which a person had been engaged in. The
word is formed from the Latin deficio, to fall off.
DEFECTIVE, in general, an appellation given to things
which want some of the properties that they ought natu¬
rally to possess. Thus,
Defective, or Deficient Nouns, in Grammar, are such
as want either a whole number, a particular case, or are
totally indeclinable. The term defective is also applied to
a verb which has not all its moods and tenses.
DEFENCE, in Fortification, all sorts of works which
cover and defend the opposite posts, as flanks, casements,
parapets, and faussebraies.
Line of Defence, a supposed line drawn from the angle
cf the curtain, or from any other part in the curtain, to
the flanked angle of the opposite bastion.
DEFEND, in general, signifies much the same with pro¬
tecting or warding off injuries offered to any person either
by enemies or otherwise.
Defend, in our ancient laws and statutes, signifies to
prohibit or forbid ; as Usuarios defendit qucque rex Ed-
wardus ne remanerent in regno. L. L. Edw. Conf. c. 38,
and 5 Rich. II. c. 7. In this sense Chaucer also uses the
following passage:
Where can, you say in any manner, age,
That ever God defended marriage.
In 7 Edward I. there is a statute entitled 11 Statutum de
defensione portandi arma,” &c. And “ it is defended by
law to distrain on the highway.”
DEFENDER of the Faith (^FideiDefensor), a peculiar
title belonging to the king of England, as Catholicus to the
king of Spain, and Christianissimus to the king of France.
These titles were given by the popes of Rome. That of
Fidei Defensor was first conferred by Leo X. on King
Henry VIII. for writing against Martin Luther; and the
bull bestowing it bears date quinto idus Octob. 1521. This
title was afterwards confirmed by Clement VII. But on
Henry’s suppressing the houses of religion at the time of
the Reformation, the pope not only deprived him of the
title, but also deposed him from his crown, though, in the
668
D E F
D E F
Defoe-
Defenders thirty-fifth year of his reign, this title was confirmed by
il parliament, and has continued to be used by all succeed¬
ing kings to this day. Chamberlayne says the title belong¬
ed to the king of England before that time; and, in proof
of his assertion, appeals to several charters granted to the
University of Oxford; so that Pope Leo’s bull was only a
renovation of an ancient right.
DEFENDERS were anciently notable dignitaries both
in church and state, whose business it was to look to the
preservation of the public weal, to protect the poor and
helpless, and to maintain the interests and causes of
churches and religious houses. (See Protector.) The
council of Chalcedon (can. 2) calls the defender of a
church ExS/xog. Codin (T)e officiis aulce Const?) makes
mention of defenders of the palace. There were also a de¬
fender of the kingdom, defensor regni; defenders of cities,
defensores civitatis ; defenders of the people, defeusores pie-
bin; defenders of the poor, fatherless, widows, &c.
About the year 420, each patriarchal church began to
have its own defender; a custom which was afterwards
introduced into other churches, and continued till later
days under other names, as those oi' Advocate and Advowee.
In the year 407, we find that the council of Carthage ask¬
ed the emperor for defenders of the number of Scholastici,
or advocates who were in office, and that it might be al¬
lowed them to enter and search the cabinets and papers
of the judges and other civil magistrates, whenever it
should be found necessary for the interest of the church.
DEFERENS, or Deferent, in the ancient astronomy,
an imaginary circle, which sweeps round the body of a
planet, and is the same with the eccentric, being invented
to account for the eccentricity, perigee, and apogee of the
planets.
DEFILE, in Fortification, a straight narrow passage,
through which a company of horse or foot can pass only
in file.
DEFINITE, in Grammar, is applied to an article which
has a precise determinate signification, such as the article
the in English, le and la in French, which fix and ascer¬
tain the noun they belong to, to some particular, a.s the
king, le roi; whereas, in the quality of king, de roi, the
articles ofand de mark nothing precise, and are therefore
indefinite.
DEFINITION, in general, a short description of a thing
by its properties; or, in logic, the explication of the es¬
sence of a thing by its kind and difference.
DEFINITIVE,"a term applied to whatever terminates
a process, question, or the like, in opposition to provisional
and interlocutory.
DEFLAGRATION, in Chemistry, the kindling or set¬
ting fire to a salt or mineral, either alone, or mixed for
the purpose with a sulphureous substance, in order to pu¬
rify it.
DEFLECTION, the turning of any thing aside from its
course by some adventitious or external cause. The word
is often applied to the tendency of a ship to deviate from
her true course by means of currents, or the like, which
turn her out of her right way. It is likewise applied by
astronomers to the tendency of the planets to deviate from
the line of their projection, or the tangent of their orbit.
Deflection of the Rays of Light, a property which Dr
Hook observed in 1675, and gave an account of before
the Royal Society in March the same year. He says he
found it different from both reflection and refraction, and
that it was made perpendicularly towards the surface of
the opaque body. This is the same property which Sir
Isaac Newton calls inflection.
DEFOE, Daniel, a man of varied and original genius,
who distinguished himself as a political writer, and, above
all, immortalized his name by the incomparable romance
of Robinson Crusoe, was born in London about the year Lei;
1663. He was the son of James Foe, butcher in the pa-
rish of St Giles, Cripplegate, and grandson of Daniel Foe,
of Elton, in Northamptonshire, yeoman. How he came
to take the name of De Foe or Defoe, we are not inform¬
ed; but his enemies have asserted that he assumed the
De in order to pass for a Frenchman. It appears, how¬
ever, that in January 1688 he was, under the name of Da¬
niel Foe, admitted to the freedom of the city by reason of
his birth. The family of Defoe were Protestant dissen¬
ters ; and Daniel, who had received his education in an
academy belonging to that body at Newington Green,
near London, became by reflection attached to those prin¬
ciples which he had inherited by his birth, and approved
himself through life their able and zealous defender. For¬
tune seemed to have destined him to be merely an arti¬
san, and, accordingly, he was bound apprentice to a ho¬
sier; but his naturally active mind, already expanded by
his early studies, sought to exercise itself on other objects
than the details of a mechanical profession, and he read
assiduously the public papers, in which subjects of great
interest were sometimes discussed. The unpopular go¬
vernment of James the Second had begun to agitate the
minds of men on questions of religion and politics; and
that of Defoe, who had not yet attained his twenty-first
year, partook largely of the general excitement. His first
publication, which appeared in 1683, was a Treatise against
the Turks, written in order to combat the prevailing sen¬
timent of the time in favour of the Ottomans, as opposed
to the house of Austria. But Defoe soon showed that he
could wield the sword as well as the pen, and that he was
as ready to fight as to write in defence of freedom. In
June 1683, when he had not yet completed his twenty-
third year, he appeared in arms for the unfortunate Duke
of Monmouth ; an exploit of which he was accustomed to
boast, in the latter period of his life, when it had ceased
to be dangerous to avow participation in that imprudent
and ill-fated enterprise: and he had the good fortune not
merely to escape the hazards of the field, but the still
more imminent perils of Judge Jefferies sanguinary “ west¬
ern campaign.” In 1687 he attacked the proclamation for
the repeal of the penal laws, in a tract, in which he expos¬
ed the unconstitutional measures pursued by King James,
and warned the dissenters against the insidious toleration
with which the court had sought to delude them. In com¬
mon with all the friends of liberty, Defoe warmly greeted
the Revolution, which he had endeavoured to promote by
his sword as well as his pen ; and when King YV illiam and
Queen Mary were entertained by the city of London, on
the 29th of October 1689, he was one of the regiment of
volunteers which, commanded by the celebrated Earl of
Peterborough, attended their majesties on that occasion
from Whitehall to the Mansion-house.
At this period Defoe is said to have acted as a hosier
in Freeman’s Court, Cornhill: but with the imprudence
which is too frequently the concomitant of genius, he ne¬
glected business for pleasure; frequented companies, where
the readiness and vivacity of his wit made him always a
welcome guest; and spent those hours in social enjoyment
or the cultivation of literature which ought to have been
devoted to the cares and calculations of the counting-
house. The consequence was, that in 1692 he fell into
difficulties, and being obliged to abscond for a time, a
commission of bankruptcy was issued against him; but
this was afterwards superseded on the petition of his prin¬
cipal creditors, who, on his own personal bond, accepted
a composition which, by efforts of unwearied diligence, he
punctually and honourably paid. Nor did even this satisfy
the scrupulous integrity of the author of Robinson Crusoe.
For when, by the favour of King William, his circum-
DEFOE.
stances had been improved, he paid such of his creditors as
had themselves fallen into distress, their full claims, and,
exclusively of the composition already mentioned, at length
reduced his whole debts from seventeen to less than five
thousand pounds; an instance of probity admirable in it¬
self, and, considering that it was exemplified by a man
who had to struggle with a numerous family, without as¬
sistance excepting his own industry, often paralysed by
misfortunes, deserving of unqualified commendation. As
yet he had mortified no great man by his keen satire, and
offended no party by his caustic pamphlets ; whilst by his
powers of pleasing, which never deserted him, he had
acquired friends who evinced a desire to serve him. Their
project was that he should settle as a factor at Cadiz, a
place with which he had previously had some correspond¬
ence as a trader ; but, as he himself remarks, Providence,
which had other work for him to do, placed a secret aver¬
sion in his mind to quitting England.
Defoe now began to meditate a variety of schemes for
the benefit of his country, and, in January 1697, published
his Essay upon Projects, which shows an extensive range
of knowledge ; recommends the establishment of a society
for encouraging learning, refining the English language,
and preventing barbarisms in manners as well as in speech ;
and well deserves the commendation which both Prior and
Swift afterwards bestowed upon it. In 1695 Defoe was ap¬
pointed accountant to the commissioners for managing the
duties on glass ; but this situation he lost in 1699, when the
tax on glass was repealed by act of parliament. In 1701
appeared The True-horn Englishman, a poem in vindication
of King William, who had been attacked by one Tutchen,
in a scurrilous piece entitled The Foreigners. This was the
first effort of his satirical muse, and it appears to have suc¬
ceeded amazingly; for it had a prodigious sale, and the
author was admitted to several personal interviews with the
king, who certainly was not a frequent reader of poetry.
After the peace of Ryswick, he published an argument to
prove that a standing army, with consent of parliament, is
not inconsistent with a free government; and afterwards,
when the grand jury of Kent, in May 1701, presented a pe¬
tition to the Commons, in which the honourable house were
unceremoniously desired to mind the public business more
and their private heats less, Defoe dictated a remonstrance,
signed Legion, against the commitment of Culpepper,
Polhill, Hamilton, and Champneys, who had avowed this
intrepid paper, and he imitated the courage of those whose
cause he espoused, by speaking plain truths in bold lan¬
guage. At this time also he published a treatise on the
original power of the collective body of the people of Eng¬
land, which he dedicated to King William, in a strain of
very vigorous eloquence, and which, whilst it vies with Mr
Locke’s celebrated tract in force of reasoning, greatly trans¬
cends it in the graces of style. Soon after this appeared
his pamphlet “ against stockjobbing elections of parliament
men,” which was a very seasonable production, and fully
sustained his reputation. Reasons against a War with
France, which he next published, is one of the finest tracts
in the English language, and replete throughout with elo¬
quence and wisdom. He declares that he is not adverse
to a war with France, provided it be undertaken op justifi¬
able grounds ; but he trusts that England will never become
so inconsiderable a nation as to make use of dishonest pre¬
tences to bring about any of her designs ; and he observes
with striking truth, that he who desires that we should
end the war honourably, ought also to desire that we
should begin it fairly. King William could scarcely be
supposed to relish a treatise which, however able, was dia¬
metrically opposed to his favourite line of policy; but he
never evinced the smallest resentment against the author
on this account; and his death, which happened soon af¬
terwards, .deprived Defoe of a patron and protector whom
he revered, and whose memory he could never patiently
hear abused. In the midst of the furious party contests
which took place on the accession of Queen Anne, he enga¬
ged in a controversy concerning the occasional conformity
of dissenters; a subject which then led to frequent disputes
between the two houses of parliament, but which is now pro¬
bably at rest for ever. “ During the first fury of high-flying,”
says Defoe, “Ifell a sacrifice for writing against the madness
of that high spirit, and in the service of the dissenters.” This
alludes to The Shortest Way with the Dissenters, which he
published in 1702, and which is a piece of exquisite irony,
although, in the excited state of men’s minds at that time,
it was pertinaciously interpreted ad pedem literce both by
churchmen and dissenters, and being voted a gross libel by
the House of Commons, was ordered to be burned as such
by the hands of the common hangman.
It has been well observed that Defoe had, during the pre¬
vious twenty years of his life, been unconsciously charging
a mine which now blew both himself and his family into the
air. He had fought for the Duke of Monmouth; he had
opposed King James; he had vindicated the revolution;
he had done justice to the character and memory of King
William ; he had displeased Godolphin and offended Marl¬
borough, by objecting to the war in Flanders ; he had defend¬
ed the rights of the collective body of the people; he had
bantered Sir Edward Seymour and Sir Christopher Mus-
grave, the Tory leaders of the House of Commons ; and he
had ridiculed all the high-flyers in the kingdom;—in a word,
by following a course of undeviating political rectitude, and
by constantly directing the force of his great talents against
every species of public delinquency or folly, he had incurred
the hatred of all parties, and was at last obliged to seek
shelter from their overpowering and resistless vengeance.
A reward of fifty pounds was offered to any one who should
discover his retreat; and although he immediately pub¬
lished an explanation of the alleged libel, yet, being ap¬
prehended, he was tried, convicted, and sentenced to the
pillory, fine, and imprisonment. Thus was Defoe ruined
a second time; for, by this prosecution, he asserts that
he lost above L.S500. Whilst in Newgate he amused some
of his dreary hours by writing a Hymn to the Pillory, in
which generous sentiments are intermingled with pointed
satire, and the most cutting sarcasms against his perse¬
cutors. Defoe continued, in the solitude of his captivity,
to pursue his literary labours, and to write on various sub¬
jects. He corrected for the press a collection of his writ¬
ings, beginning with The True-horn Englishman, and end¬
ing with The Shortest Way to Peace and Union; and to
this was prefixed a print of the author, with the too ap¬
propriate motto, Laudatur et alget. In his prison also he
projected The Review, a periodical paper far superior to
any thing of the kind that had yet appeared, and which
formed the prototype of the Tatlers, Spectators, and Guar¬
dians, and contained many things which, in point of wit,
elegance, and purity of diction, would have done honour to
Steele or to Addison. In 170F he published The Storm,
being a collection of the most remarkable casualties which
had occurred during the tempest of the 23d November
1703; a production which displays higher attainments in
science and literature than Defoe had generally been sup¬
posed to possess, and which is altogether exceedingly in¬
teresting.
While the author lay in Newgate, with his family ruin¬
ed, and his hopes of deliverance crushed, a verbal mes¬
sage was brought him from Harley, Speaker of the House
of Commons, and afterwards Earl of Oxford, desiring to
know what could be done for him. In a factious age, a po¬
litical intriguer like Harley doubtless foresaw that a man
of Defoe’s genius and ability might be rendered service-
670
Defoe.
DEFOE.
able to the purposes of his ambition; whilst, on the other
hand, the captive and ruined author was fain to intimate
a wish for his release from durance. But this was by no
means easily nor speedily accomplished. Harley became
secretary of state in April 1704<; yet four months elapsed
before his representations to the queen and the treasurer
Godolphin, in favour of Defoe, produced the desired effect.
The queen, however, inquired into the circumstances of
the distressed author; Godolphin sent a considerable sum
to his wife, and a further sum to Defoe himself, to enable
him to pay his fine and the expense of his discharge ; and
at length, in August 1704, he was released from Newgate.
Defoe was exceedingly grateful for this deliverance, and
ever afterwards, amidst all the vicissitudes of party and
faction, remained sincerely attached to the queen and to
Oxford. In 1705 he published The Consolidator, or Me¬
moirs of sundry Transactions from the World in the Moon,
in which he makes the lunar politicians discuss the policy
of'Charles the Twelfth in pursuing the Saxons and the
Poles : he also engaged in a controversy respecting a pro¬
ject then brought forward for employing the poor; and he
published a second volume of the “ Writings of the Author
of the True-born Englishman," containing eighteen pieces
in prose and verse. The persecutions of party rendered this
a year of disquiet to Defoe. For, when his affairs had led
him to the west of England, a project was formed to send
him perforce as a soldier to the army; but being a free¬
holder of England, and a liveryman of London, he knew
that these characters could not be violated with impunity;
and when the western justices had resolved to apprehend
him as a rogue and vagabond, they were deterred from
doing so by the courage with which he asserted his rights,
and denounced the meditated attack on his personal liberty.
In his absence, too, real suits were commenced against him
for fictitious debts ; but he manfully advertised, that whilst
genuine claims would be fairly satisfied, such as were
groundless and vexatious would be resisted to the last. All
these circumstances were published in his Beview.
Defoe commenced the year 1706 with A Hymn to Peace,
occasioned by the two houses of parliament uniting in an
address to the queen; in May he published an “ Essay at
removing national prejudices against an Union with Scot¬
landand in July appeared his Jure Divino, in which he
attacked the doctrines of passive obedience and divine
right, respecting which the world then seemed to be running
stark mad, from the sheer fanaticism of servility. About
this time, Godolphin, who knew how to discriminate men,
resolved to employ Defoe on a mission of importance ; and
he was accordingly sent to Scotland, whei'e his knowledge
of commerce and revenue, his powers of insinuation, and
the aptitude of his pen, which was that of a ready writer,
proved of no small utility in promoting the great measure
of the union. He arrived in Edinburgh in October 1706 ; he
attended the committees of parliament, which he furnish¬
ed with calculations on the subject of trade and taxes ; he
endeavoured to confute all that was published against the
project of the union; and, though exposed to consider¬
able danger, he escaped the vengeance of the populace, by
whom he was continually watched, and sometimes insult¬
ed. In the midst of this agitating scene of business and
tumult, he collected those documents, which he afterwards
published for the instruction of posterity, respecting one of
the most critical and important transactions in our whole
national annals. Towards the close of this year he published
Caledonia, a poem in honour of the Scottish nation; and
soon after the act of union had been passed by the parlia¬
ment of Scotland, he returned to London. How he was re¬
warded by the ministers for the important services he per¬
formed on this difficult occasion, has not been ascertained ;
but Mr Chalmers is of opinion that a pension was settled on
him. He published his History of the Union in 1709; but Deft
it attracted little notice on its first appearance, though it
was republished in 1712, and again in 1786, when the pro¬
ject of a union with Ireland had become a topic of fre¬
quent discussion. In the year 1709 also appeared his His¬
tory of Addresses, which, in 1711, was followed by a second
volume, intended to abate the public ferment occasioned
partly by the mad harangues of Sacheverel, and still more
by the incredible folly which raised them into consequence
by the parliamentary censure of their author.
Defoe now lived at Newington in comfortable circum¬
stances, and employed himself chiefly in writing the lie-
view, which, however, he at length relinquished in order
to commence A General History of Trade; but this last
production, although it exhibits all the ingenuity and
strength of Defoe, extended only to two numbers ; the au¬
thor having been silenced by noise, obloquy, and insult,
and forced to withdraw for a time to the borders of Lan¬
cashire. Here, observing the insolence of the Jacobite
party, and incapable of remaining an indolent or passive
spectator of events, he published several pamphlets, with
ironical titles, which were much approved by the friends
of the Protestant succession, and diligently dispersed
throughout the country; yet, for writing these seasonable
tracts, Defoe was arrested, held to bail in the enormous
sum of L.800, and ultimately committed to Newgate in
Easter term of 1713. But on making a proper submission,
he was soon released, and the Earl of Oxford being still
in power, interceded to procure him the queen’s pardon.
Still darker days were, however, at hand. “ No sooner
was the queen dead,” says he, “ but the rage of men in¬
creased upon me to that degree, that their threats were
such as I am unable to express. Though I have written
nothing since the queen’s death, yet a great many things
are called by my name, and I bear the answerers insults.
I have not seen or spoken with the Earl of Oxford since
the king’s landing but once ; yet he bears the reproach of
my writing for him, and I the rage of men for doing it.
Stunned by factious clamour, and overborne though not
silenced by unmerited obloquy, Defoe appears to have lost
his original appointment on the final expulsion from power
of the Earl of Oxford; and instead of meeting with any
reward for his zealous services in support of the Protest¬
ant succession, he was, on the accession of George I. dis¬
countenanced even by those who had derived most be¬
nefit from his active exertions. This cruel treatment prey¬
ed on his mind, and brought him to the very verge of the
grave. In 1715 he published an Appeal to Honour and
Justice, containing an account of his conduct in public af¬
fairs ; and in stating his motives for doing so, he affecting-
ly says, “ By the limits of mortality, and the infirmities of
a life of sorrow and fatigue, I have reason to think that
I am very near to the great ocean of eternity, and the
time may not be long ere I embark on the last voyage,
wherefore I think I should make even accounts with the
world before I go, that no slanders may lie against my
heirs, to disturb them in the peaceable possession of their
father’s inheritance, his character.” But before he had
finished his “ appeal” he was struck with apoplexy; and as
he languished for more than six weeks in a state which
held out but little prospect of recovery, his friends judged
it proper not to delay the publication any longer- ^
treatment which he here complains of w^as undoubtedly
the cause of this calamity: when he reflected on what he
had done and suffered, his heart yielded to despair, and he
sunk under the agony of his own desponding feelings. But
this shock, severe as it proved, was not altogether without
its benefit on the mind of Defoe, which it served to wean
from politics, and to estrange from pursuits P[od^ctlv® °f
nothing but disappointment and sorrow. I he death or
I) E F O E.
je. Queen Anne, and the accession of George the First, con-
^ vinced him of the vanity of party-writing; and from this
period he appears to have studied, not how to mend the
state, but how to improve the human heart and to regu¬
late the practice of daily life. The only other production
of Defoe’s which appeared in 1715, was The Family In¬
structor, in three parts; but Religious Courtship, which may
be considered as the third volume, was not published until
1722.
We have now reached that period in the life of Defoe
when he gave to the world the most remarkable, and per¬
haps the most lasting, of all his works ; we mean the Life
and surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, which ap¬
peared in 1719. This extraordinary production met with
the most favourable reception, and immediately became so
popular, that Taylor, who purchased the manuscript after
every other bookseller had refused it, is said to have gain¬
ed a thousand pounds by the transaction. Seldom, indeed,
has any immediate decision of the public respecting a li¬
terary performance been so fully ratified by posterity. At
the distance of more than a century it has lost none of its
original attraction. There is an air of reality and truth
about it which belongs to no other work of fiction; we can¬
not indeed persuade ourselves that it is the creation of
fancy, nor divest ourselves of the conviction, which every
circumstance conspires to rivet on the mind, that we are
perusing real adventures, and conversing with actual per¬
sonages. Hence, whilst it carries captive the affections of
childhood, it fixes the admiration of mature years; it is
the book of all countries, and of every age and class; it
delights the illiterate, and amuses as well as instructs
persons of the most cultivated minds ; and it speaks in the
resistless language of nature to all hearts. It also contains,
if not a treatise, at least a practical exemplification of a
system of natural education, detailed with matchless truth
and simplicity. “ Puisqu’il nous faut absolument des
livres,” says Rousseau in his Emile, “ il en existe un qui
fournit, a mon gre, le plus heureux traite d’education na-
turelle. Ce livre sera le premier que lira mon Emile ; seul
il composera long-temps toute sa bibliotheque, et il y
tiendra toujours une place distinguee. Il sera le texte
auquel tous nos entretiens sur les sciences naturelles ne
serviront que decommentaires. Il servira d'epreuve durant
nos progres, a 1’etat de notre jugement; et tant que notre
gout ne sera pas gate, sa lecture nous plaira toujours.
Quel est dont ce merveilleux livre ? Est-ce Aristote ?
Est-ce Platon ? Non, c’est Robinson Crusoe! In a word,
had all Defoe’s other writings perished, the history of the
author of this extraordinary production would still have
been an object of literary curiosity. As to the story that
the author had surreptitiously obtained and unceremo¬
niously appropriated the papers of Alexander Selkirk, a
Scottish mariner, who, having suffered shipwreck, had lived
for three or four years on the island of Juan Fernandez,
it is scarcely deserving of serious notice, and is certainly
as unworthy of reputation as the fable published by Mr
James Stanier Clarke, that the first volume of Robinson
Crusoe was written by the Earl of Oxford during his im¬
prisonment in the Tower of London. Calumnies of this
sort always track the footsteps of genius; and dull malig¬
nity, where it dares not condemn a work, often seeks to
tarnish the fame of its author, by trying to fasten on him
a charge of plagiarism. In the present case, all that is
needful to repel the accusation has been amply supplied
by Chalmers and Wilson, who have proved that Selkirk
had in truth no papers to lose, and, moreover, shown that
the internal evidence is decided!}' in favour of the entire
originality of Defoe’s inimitable fiction. How, indeed, could
the rude journal of a rough sailor ever be supposed to
have entered into the composition of such a finished mas-
terpiece. or even allowing that some hints had been de- Defoe,
uvea from such a source, how can that be held as in any
degree detracting from the genius of him who bade these
dry bones live ?
Ehe success of Robinson Crusoe induced Defoe to pub¬
lish, m 1720, The Life and Piracies of Captain Singleton,
a lomance of the same description, but much inferior in all
lespects. In 1725, he brought out another fictitious nar¬
rative, entitled A New Voyage round the World by a
Course never sailed before, a work which displavs uncom¬
mon skill, and is highly interesting throughout. The
History of Duncan Campbell, who was born deaf and
dumb, and who taught others in the same unfortunate
situation with himself, had appeared in 1720; and the
Fortunes and Misfortunes of Moll Flanders, the morality
of which cannot be commended, followed in 1721, when
he also published the Life of Colonel Jaque, a work of a
similar tendency. The Adventures of Roxana, which ap¬
peared in 1724, is likewise a production by which few will
be made wiser, and none better. But the Memoirs of a
Cavalier is a work of a very different description. This
romance is so like truth that it has been mistaken for real
history; and in fact it contains the best account extant of
the civil wars, the narrative being drawn up with great
simplicity, and enlivened with such just and natural re¬
flections as at once to instruct the ignorant and entertain
the instructed. The Family Instructor and Religious Court¬
ship have been already noticed. But there are other per¬
formances of his possessing not inferior merit. In 1722, he
published A Journal of the Plague, which, like his Memoirs
of a Cavalier, is, in its frame-work, a pure fiction; The
great Late of Subordination appeared in 1724; the Politi¬
cal History oj the Devil, and a System of Magic, which may
be regarded as a supplement thereto, came out in 1728;
and the Treatise on the Use and Abuse of the Marriage-bed,
an excellent book, with an absurd title, was given to the
world in 1727. He also published a Tour through Eng¬
land in 1724 and 1725, and one through Scotland in 1727.
But the reader must not be misled by this title ; for De¬
foe was one of those travellers who seldom quit the banks
of the Thames. His last works were the Complete Eng¬
lish Tradesman, published in 1727, and a Plan of the Eng¬
lish Commerce, which appeared in 1728. In these trea¬
tises are many directions for the conduct of business, and
many lessons of prudence and economy, which cannot be
too frequently and earnestly inculcated.
But the glass of the indefatigable Defoe was now near¬
ly run. After a laborious and checkered life, he died in
April 1731, in the parish of St Giles, Cripplegate, leav¬
ing a widow, who did not long survive him, and six sons
and daughters. From several circumstances, it is more
than probable that he died insolvent; and it is at least cer¬
tain that he left no other inheritance to his children but his
good name and high literary reputation. Defoe was a man
of strong natural parts and of clear good sense ; ingenious
and lively in conversation ; bold and enterprising in spirit,
but scantily gifted with prudence ; and withal possessed
of good nature and of real honesty. As a writer he is dis¬
tinguished for the fertility of his invention, the vivid dis¬
tinctness of his conceptions, the transparent perspicuity
of his style, the keenness of his wit, the justness and ori¬
ginality of his reflections, and the inimitable ease and
simplicity which more or less characterize all his perform¬
ances. But though his merits both as a man and as a
writer were undoubtedly great, yet few men have expe¬
rienced more unjust treatment at the hands of their con¬
temporaries ; and, notwithstanding the general integrity
of his conduct, he was repeatedly represented as an un¬
principled writer, who had no view but to his own advan¬
tage, and who would employ his pen for any party which
D E F • ' ' ' . DEE
chose to hire his services. These charges, however, are
refuted by the whole tenor of his life; and, indeed, they
are in all probability the offspring of political rancour,
which, in fact, no man ever did more to provoke. His
readiness and power as a political writer, and, above all,
the unsparing use which he made of ridicule and sarcasm,
weapons which in his hands were peculiarly formidable,
must have raised him up a host of enemies; and those
who might feel themselves unequal to contend with the
o-ifted writer, could at least find no difficulty in traducing
the man. It has often struck us as surprising that his poli¬
tical works, on which he employed the very best of his days
and his talents, should, comparatively speaking, be so little
known. They constitute a mine which none can explore
without being enriched with much that is precious in wis¬
dom, impressive in eloquence, and striking in truth. But
still his fame must principally rest upon those works which
were entirely the offspring of imagination; and amongst
these, and indeed all others of the kind, whether we regard
the felicity of the design, the truth of the incidents, the
variety and minute discrimination of the details, the na¬
tural justness of the sentiments, or the beautiful simplicity
of the whole narrative, Robinson Crusoe must ever occupy
the first place. Defoe, indeed, was an essentially oiiginal
writer; and hence all his productions possess a raciness and
a freshness which add incalculably to their attraction. But
if he had any model atall5 it was Bunyan, an author whom
he must have read in his youth, and from whose works he
probably imbibed that taste for simplicity in writing for
which he was throughout distinguished ; and what ren¬
ders this still more certain is, that in the second volume of
Robinson Crusoe may be discovered obvious traces of the
religious principles so beautifully unfolded in Bunyan s
admirable allegory. It must be admitted, however, that
Defoe borrowed from the Pilgrims Progress little else
than the love of natural simplicity ; and that in hll which
essentially distinguishes him as a writer, he is remarkable
for nothing so much as for inexhaustible feitility, allied
to extraordinary freshness and originality. (A*v
DEFOLIATION (from de, and folium, a leaf), the fall
of the leaves. A term opposed to frondescentio-, the annual
renovation of the leaves, produced by the unfolding of the
buds in spring. , .
Most plants in cold and temperate climates shed their
leaves everv year. This happens in autumn, and is gene¬
rally announced by the flowering of the common meadow
saffron. The term is only applied to trees and shrubs;
for herbs perish down to the roots every year, losing stem,
leaves, and all.
All plants do not drop their leaves at the same time.
Amongst large trees, the ash and walnut, although the
latest in unfolding, are soonest divested of them. T.he lat¬
ter seldom carries its leaves above five months. On the
oak and hornbeam the leaves die and wither as soon as
the colds commence; but they remain attached to the
branches until they are pushed off by the new ones, which
unfold themselves the following spring. These trees are
doubtless a kind of evergreens. The leaves are probably
destroyed only by cold; and perhaps would continue
longer on the plant, but for the force of the spring sap
joined to the moisture.
In mild and dry seasons the lilach, privet, yellow jessa¬
mine of the woods, and maple of Crete, preserve their
leaves green until spring, and do not drop them till the new
leaves are beginning to appear. The fig-tree, and many
other trees that grow between the tropics, are of this par¬
ticular class of evergreens. The trees in Egypt, says
Dr Hasselquist, cast their leaves in the latter end of De¬
cember and beginning of January, having young leaves
ready before all the old ones have fallen off; and, to foi-
ward this operation of nature, few of the trees have buds; Defont
the sycamore and willow, indeed, have some, but with
few and quite loose stipules or scales. Nature did not
conceive buds to be so necessary in the southern as in the
northern countries ; and this occasions a great difference
between them.
Lastly, some trees and shrubs preserve their leaves con¬
stantly throughout the whole year, and are not in the least
influenced by the clemency or inclemency of seasons. Such
are the firs, juniper, yew, cedar, cypress, and many other
trees, hence denominated evergreens. These preserve
their old leaves a long time after the formation of the
newy and do not drop them at any determinate time. In
general the leaves of evergreens are harder and less suc¬
culent than those which are renewed annually. The trees
are generally natives of warm climates ; as the alaternuses
of France and Italy, and the evergreen oak of Portugal
and Suabia. . i ^
Some herbaceous perennials, as the house-leeks and
navel-worts, enjoy the same privilege with the evergreen
trees, and resist the severities of winter; some even can
dispense with the earth for a time, being replete with
juices, which the leaves imbibe from the humidity of the
atmosphere, and which in such plants are of themselves
sufficient for effecting the purposes of vegetation. It is
for this reason that, unless in excessive hot weather, gar¬
deners seldom water fat succulent plants, as the aloes,
which rot when they are moistened, if the sun does not
quickly dry them up.
The leaves of all the evergreen shrubs and trees have
a thin compact skin or cover over their surface, as is easily
discovered by macerating them in water, in order to sepa¬
rate the parenchyma or pulp from the vessels of the leaves,
which cannot be effected in any of these evergreens till a
thin parchment-like colour is taken off. These trees and
shrubs are found by experiment to perspire but little,
when compared with others which shed their leaves; and
it is perhaps principally owing to this close covering, as also
to the small proportion of moistqre contained in their ves¬
sels, that they retain their verdure, and continue through
the winter on the trees. The nutritive juices of these
plants always abound more or less with an oily quality,
which secures them from being injured by severe frosts;
so that many of these evergreen trees are adapted to grow
in the coldest parts of the habitable world. ^
With respect to deciduous trees, the falling off of the
leaves seems principally to depend on the temperature of
the atmosphere, which likewise serves to hasten or retard
the appearance in question. An ardent sun contributes to
hasten the dropping of the leaves ; and hence in hot and
dry summers the leaves of the lime-tree and horse-chesnut
turn yellow about the first of September, whilst in other
years the yellowness does not appear till the beginning o
October. Nothing, however, contributes more to hasten
the fall of the leaves than immoderate cold or moist wea¬
ther in autumn; but, on the other hand, moderate droughts
serve to retard it. As a proof of this position, Mr Adanson
relates, that in the year 1759, the leaves of the elm-tree,
which generally fall off about the twenty-fifth of Novem¬
ber, continued in verdure and vigour at Paris, where the
autumn was remarkably dry, till the tenth of the follow¬
ing month. r. *
It deserves to be remarked, that an evergreen grafted
upon a deciduous tree, determines the latter to retain its
leaves. This observation is confirmed by repeated experi¬
ments, particularly by grafting the laurel, or cherry- ay,
an evergreen, on the common cherry; and the uex, o
evergreen oak, on the oak. .
DEFORMITY, the want of that uniformity necessary
to constitute the beauty of an object.
DEFORMITY.
W Deformity is either natural or moral. These are both
' referred by Mr Hutcheson to an internal sense ; and our
perceptions of them, as he supposes, arise from an origi¬
nal and arbitrary structure of our own minds, by which
certain objects, when observed, are rendered the occasions
of certain sensations and affections.
That many objects afford no pleasure to our sense is ob¬
vious. Many are certainly void of beauty ; but then, says
this author, there is no form which seems necessarily dis¬
agreeable of itself, when we dread no evil from it, and
compare it with nothing better of the kind. Many objects
are naturally displeasing and distasteful to our external
senses, whilst others are pleasing and agreeable, as smells,
tastes, and some separate sounds ; but with regard to our
sense of beauty, no composition of objects which produce
not unpleasant simple ideas, seems positively unpleasant or
painful of itself, had we never observed any thing better
of the same kind.
Had there been a species of the form which we now de¬
nominate ugly or deformed, and had we never seen nor ex¬
pected greater beauty, we should have received no disgust
from it, though the pleasure would not have been so great
in this form as in those which we now admire. Our sense
of beauty seems designed to give us positive pleasure, but
not positive pain or disgust, any further than what arises
from disappointment.
There are indeed many faces which at first view are apt
to raise dislike. But this generally arises not from any posi¬
tive deformity, but either from want of expected beauty,
or from the carrying some natural indications of morally
bad dispositions, which we all acquire a faculty of discern¬
ing in countenances, airs, and gestures. That this is not
occasioned by any form positively disgusting, appears from
the circumstance, that if, upon long acquaintance, we are
sure of finding sweetness of temper, humanity, and cheer¬
fulness, though the bodily form continues, it will occasion
us no disgust. There are horrors raised by some objects,
which are only the effects of fear for ourselves, or compas¬
sion towards others, when either reason or some foolish as¬
sociation of idea^makes us apprehend danger, and not the
effect of any thing in the form itself. For we find, that
most of those objects which excite horror at first, when ex¬
perience or reason has removed the fear, may become the
occasion of pleasure.
The casual conjunction of ideas occasions us disgust when
there is nothing disagreeable in the form itself. And this,
in effect, is the cause of most of our fantastic aversions to
the figures of divers animals. Thus serpents of all kinds,
and many insects, really beautiful enough, are beheld with
aversion by many people, who have some accidental ideas
of mischief associated with them. A similar reasoning is
applied to our perception of moral beauty and deformity.
(See Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and
Virtue, passim.)
But it is more to the present purpose to distinguish be¬
tween the sentiments of delight or disgust, excited in our
minds by beautiful or deformed objects, which are effects
of certain causes, and the natural and real qualities of the
perceived objects by which they are produced. There are
objects, says an excellent writer, which have a natural apti¬
tude to please or offend, or between which and the con¬
templating mind there is a necessary congruity or incon¬
gruity; and though the actual perception of the under¬
standing, and consequent feeling of the heart, in contem¬
plating the actions and affections of moral agents, may ex¬
ist in very different degrees, on account of the incidental
obstructions arising from bodily indisposition, mental pre¬
judices and biasses, and the association of ideas; yet, in
every rational mind properly disposed, morally good actions
must for ever be acceptable, and can never of themselves
VOL. VII.
673
offend; and morally evil actions must for ever be disagree-Deformity,
able, and can never of themselves please. What is right in
actions and characters is beautiful and amiable, and gives
pleasure ; what is wrong is deformed and odious, and ex¬
cites disgust. Right and pleasure, wrong and pain, are as
distinct as cause and effect. It is no less absurd to maintain
that the perception of virtue is nothing distinct from the
perception of the pleasure resulting from it, than to infer
with some metaphysicians, that solidity, extension, and
figure, are only particular modes of sensation, because at¬
tended, whenever they are perceived, with some sensa¬
tions of sight or touch. Thus does the author show that
moral beauty and deformity are real qualities of certain
actions, in which consists their aptitude to please or dis¬
gust. With respect to natural beauty, he observes, that
uniformity amidst variety pleases, because the natures of
variety and uniformity are such, that whenever united,
they are adapted to please every unbiassed mind that dis¬
cerns them. He accounts for the pleasure they afford,
without referring them to an arbitrary internal sense, by
the following circumstances which attend them. They
are more easily comprehended by the mind: order and
symmetry give things their stability and strength, and
subserviency to any valuable purpose : regularity and order
are evidence of art and design. Disorder and confusion,
whence deformity arises, denote only the negation of re¬
gularity and order; or any arrangement and disposition of
things, which are not according to a law, rule, or plan, and
prove not design. These are not positively displeasing,
except where we previously expected order, or where im¬
potence or want of skill appear, and the contriver has ei¬
ther failed in his design or executed it unskilfully.
In a work entitled Fugitive Pieces is preserved an essay
on Bodily Deformity, by William Hay, who was himself
what he describes, and who, whilst he ridicules his own
figure with great pleasantry, discusses the general subject
in a manner equally instructive and agreeable. He con¬
siders, first, the natural consequences of bodily deformity;
secondly, how it affects the outward circumstances; and,
thirdly, what turn it gives to the mind.
It is certain that the human frame, when warped and
disproportioned, is lessened in strength and activity, and
rendered less fit for its functions. Scarron had invented
an engine to take off his hat; “ and I wish,” says our au¬
thor, “ I could invent one to buckle my shoe, or to take
up a thing from the ground, which I can scarce do with¬
out kneeling; for I can bend my body no farther than it is
bent by nature. For this reason, when ladies drop a fan or
glove, I am not the first to take it up, and often restrain my
inclination to perform those little services, rather than ex¬
pose my spider-like shape. And I hope it will not be con¬
strued as pride, if I do not always rise from my seat when I
ought; for if it is low, I find some trouble in it; and my
centre of gravity is so ill placed, that I am often like to
fall back. Things hanging within the reach of others are
out of mine; and what they can execute with ease, I
want strength to perform. 1 am in danger of being tram¬
pled upon or stifled in a crowd, where my back is a con¬
venient lodgment for the elbow of any tall person that is
near. I can see nothing; and my whole employment is
to guard my person. I have forborne to attend his majesty
in the House of Peers, since I was like to be squeezed to
death there against the wall. I would willingly come thi¬
ther when his majesty commands ; but he is too gracious
to expect impossibilities. Besides, when I get in, I can
never have the pleasure of seeing on the throne one of
the best princes who ever sat on it. These, and many
others, are the inconveniences continually attending a
figure like mine. They may appear grievous to persons not
used to them, but they grow easier by habit; and though
4 Q
n
G74
DEFORMITY.
Deformity, they may a little disturb, they are not sufficient to destroy
the happiness of life, of which, at an average, I have enjoyed
as great a share as most men. And perhaps one proof of
it may be my writing this essay, not intended as a com¬
plaint against Providence for my lot, but as an innocent
amusement to myself and others.”
As to what effect deformity may have on the health, it
appears natural to imagine, that as the inward parts oi the
body must in some measure conform with the outward
mould, so the form of the latter being irregular, the for¬
mer cannot be so well placed and disposed to perform their
functions; and that generally deformed persons would not
be healthy or long lived. But this is a question best de¬
termined by facts; and in regard to it the instances are
too few or too little observed to enable us to draw a gene¬
ral conclusion from them ; yet health is more than is com*
monly thought in a man's own power, and the reward of
temperance more than the effect of constitution, which
makes it more difficult to pass a judgment. JEsop could
not be young when he died, and might have lived longer
if he had not been murdered at Delphi. The Prince of
Orange scarcely passed the meridian of life, and the Duke
of Luxembourg died about the age of sixty-seven. The
Lord Treasurer Burghley lived to seventy-eight; but his
son, the Earl of Salisbury, died about fifteen years after
him. It is said that Mr Pope’s father was deformed, and
he lived to the age of seventy-five; whereas the son died
in middle age, if he may be said to die whose works are
immortal. 44 My father, adds our author, 44 was not de¬
formed, but active, and my mother a celebrated beauty;
and I, that am so unlike them, have lived to a greater age,
and daily see my acquaintance of a stronger frame quitting
the stage before me.”
But whether deformity, abstractedly considered, be
really prejudicial to health, in its consequences it appears
to be most commonly an advantage. Deformed persons
have less strength than others, and therefore should na¬
turally be more careful to preserve it; and as temperance
is highly conducive to health, it may incline them to be
more temperate. Another great preservative of health is
moderate exercise, which few deformed persons can want
strength to take. As a deformed person is not formed for
violent exercise, he is less liable to such disorders as are
the natural consequences of it. He will also escape many
accidents, to which men of athletic make, and who glory
in their strength, are always exposing themselves, to make
trial and proof of it. If he cannot carry an ox, like Milo,
he will not, like Milo, be handcuffed in the oak by at¬
tempting to rend it. He will not be the man that shall
ride from London to York in a day, or to Windsor in an
hour, for a wager; or that shall be perpetually performing
surprisingly long journeys in a surprisingly short time, for
no earthly business but the pleasure of relating them.
Conscious of his own weakness, he will be cautious of
running into places or occasions of danger. Nature, too,
warns deformed persons to be careful not to offer such
affronts as may call them forth into the field of false ho¬
nour, where they cannot acquit themselves well for want
of strength and agility; and they are the more secure
from such affronts themselves, since others will consider
the little credit to be gained by compelling them to appear
on that scene. On the whole, therefore, it may be con¬
cluded that deformity is a protection to a man’s health
and person; which, strange as it may appear, are better
defended by feebleness than by strength.
The influence of bodily deformity on a man’s fortune
may next be considered. Amongst the lower class, he is
cut off from many professions and employments. He can¬
not be a soldier, for he is under standard; he cannot be a
sailor, since he wants activity to climb the rigging; he can¬
not be a chairman or porter, because he wants strength toDefbrn;
bear the burden. In higher life, he is ill qualified for a wyr
lawyer, as he can scarcely be seen over the bar; and for a
divine, since he may drop from his hassock out of sight in
his pulpit. The improvement of his mind is his proper
province, and his business should only be such as depends
on ingenuity. If he cannot be a dancing-master to adjust
the heels, he may be a schoolmaster to instruct the head;
he cannot be a graceful actor on the stage, but he may
produce a good play; he would appear ill as a herald in a
procession, but he may pass as a merchant on the Change;
he cannot undergo the fatigue of the campaign, but he
may advise the operations of it; he is designed by nature
rather to sleep on the two-topped Parnassus, than to de¬
scend to the plains of iEolis ; he cannot be crowned at the
Olympic games, but may be the Pindar to celebrate them;
he can acquire no glory by the sword, but he may by the
pen, and may grow famous by only relating those exploits
which it is beyond his power to imitate.
Lord Bacon, whose extensive and penetrating genius
pointed out every part of nature for examination, in his
Essay on Deformity says, 44 that in their superiors it
quencheth jealousy towards them, as persons that they
think they may at pleasure despise; and it layeth their
competitors and emulators asleep, as never believing they
should be in a possibility of advancement till they see
them in possession.” But it is much to be doubted whe¬
ther this is not more than counterbalanced by the con¬
tempt of the world, which it requires no mean parts to
conquer; for if, as has been said, a good person is a let¬
ter of recommendation, deformity must be an obstruction
in the way to favour. In this respect, therefore, defoim-
ed persons set out in the world at a disadvantage, and
they must first surmount the prejudices of mankind be¬
fore they can be upon a par with others, and must obtain
by a course of behaviour that regard which is paid to
beauty at first sight. When this point is once gained, the
tables are turned, and then the game goes in their favour;
for others, sensible of injustice towards them, no sooner
find them better than they expected, than they believe
them better than they are; whereas in the beautiful per¬
son they sometimes find themselves imposed upon, and
are angry that they have worshipped only a painted idol.
For, to use Lord Bacon s words, 44 neither is it almost
seen that very beautiful persons are otherwise of gieat
virtue : they prove accomplished, but not of great spirit;
and study rather behaviour than virtue. Whereas de¬
formed persons, if they be of spirit, will free themselves
from scorn, which must be either by virtue or malice; and
therefore let it not be marvelled if they sometimes prove
excellent persons, as was Agesilaus, Zanger the son o
Solomon, ^sop, Gasca, president of Peru; and Socrates
may likewise go amongst them, with others. ^\ay> „
says, 44 in a great wit deformity is an advantage to using,
and in another part of his works, 44 that they who by ac¬
cident have some inevitable and indelible mark on their
persons or fortunes, as deformed people, bastards, and the
like, if they want not virtue, generally prove fortunate.
Osborn, in his Historical Memoirs of Queen Elizabeth,
informs us, that 44 she chose the goodliest persons for her
household servants; but in her counsellors did not put by
sufficiency, though accompanied with a crooked person;
as it chanced in a father and a son of the Cecils, both in¬
comparable for prudence.” It is well known the queen
would make the father, Burghley, sit in her presence,
telling him that she did not use him for his legs, but Ins
head. But the son, afterwards Lord Treasurer and Earl o
Salisbury, was not so civilly treated by the populace; an
he is an instance not only that envy pursues a great man,
but that the highest post cannot redeem a deformed one
DC pity
V. '■
DEFORMITY.
from contempt: it attends him like his shadow, and like
that, too, is ever reminding him of his ill figure, which is
often objected to for want of real crimes. For the same
writer says of the same great man, “ that the misfortunes
accompanying him from his birth did not a little add to
that cloud of detraction that fell upon all that he said or
did; a mulct in nature, like an optic spectacle, multiplying
much in the sight of the people the apparitions of ill.”
Nor was this contempt buried with him; it trampled on
his ashes and insulted his grave ; as appears by an epitaph
whicli Osborn cites, as devoid of wit as it is full of scurrili¬
ty; in one line of which there is an epithet, not so elegant
as descriptive of his person, namely, “little Bossive Robin
that was so great.”
Such contempt in general, joined with the ridicule of
the vulgar, is another certain consequence of bodily de¬
formity; for men naturally despise that which appears
less beautiful or useful, and their pride is gratified when
they see such foils to their own persons. It is this sense
of superiority which is testified by laughter in the lower
sort; whilst their betters, who know how little any man
whatsoever has to boast of, are restrained by good sense
and good breeding from such an insult. But it is not easy
to say why one species of deformity should be more ridi¬
culous than another, or why the mob should be more
merry with a crooked man than with one who is deaf,
lame, squinting, or purblind. It is a back in alto relievo
which bears all the ridicule, though one would think a pro¬
minent belly a much more reasonable object of derision,
since the last is generally the effect of intemperance, and
of a man’s own creation. Socrates was ugly, but not con¬
temned ; and Philopcemen had a very mean appearance;
but though contemned on that account, he was not ridi¬
culed. Montaigne says, “ 111 features are but a superficial
ugliness, and of little certainty in the opinion of men ; but
a deformity of limbs is more substantial, and strikes deeper
in.” As it is more uncommon, it is more remarkable ; and
675
I never am much affected with the common accidents ofDeformity.
life, whether they befal myself or others. I am little ''—’-y-'O
moved when I hear of death, loss, or misfortune; I think
the case is common. “ fritus, et e medio fortunse ductus
acervo. And as it is always likely to happen, I am not sur¬
prised when it does. If I see a person cry or beat his breast
on any such occasion, I cannot bear him company, but am
not a Democritus to laugh at his folly. I read of battles
and fields covered with slain ; of cities destroyed by sword,
famine, pestilence, and earthquake; I do not shed a tear,
I suppose it is because they are the usual storms to which
the human species are exposed, proceeding from the just
judgments of God, or the mistaken and false principles of
rulers. I read of persecutions, tortures, murders, mas¬
sacres ; my compassion for the sufferers is great, but my
tears are stopped by resentment and indignation against
the contrivers and perpetrators of such horrid actions.
But there are many things that bring tears into my eyes
whether I will or no; and when I reflect, I am often at a
loss in searching out the secret source from whence they
flow. What makes me weep (for weep I do) when I read
of virtue or innocence in distress; of a good man helpless
and forsaken, unmoved by the greatest insults and cruel¬
ties, or courageously supporting himself against oppression
in the article of death ? 1 suppose it is to see vice tri¬
umphant, and virtue so ill rewarded in this life. May I
judge by myself, I should imagine that few sincere Chris¬
tians could read the sufferings of their Saviour, or Eng¬
lishmen those of a Cranmer, Ridley, or Latimer, without
tears; the first dying to establish his religion, the last to
rescue it from corruption. When I read of Regulus re¬
turning to torment, and John of France to imprisonment,
against the persuasion of friends, to keep faith with their
enemies, I weep to think there is scarce another instance
of such exalted virtue. Those who often hear me read
know that my voice changes, and my eyes are full when
I meet with a generous and heroic saying, action, or cha-
that perhaps is the true reason why it is more ridiculed by* racter, especially of persons whose example or command
the vulgar.
The last consideration on this subject relates to those
passions and affections which most naturally result from
deformity. Lord Bacon observes, that “ deformed persons
are commonly even with nature; for as nature hath done
ill by them, so do they by nature, being for the most part
(as the Scripture saith) void of natural affection.” But
Mr Hay says, “ I can neither find out this passage in
Scripture, nor the reason of it; nor can I give my assent
or negative to a proposition, till I am well acquainted with
the terms of it. If by natural affection is here meant uni¬
versal benevolence, and that deformity necessarily implies
a want of it, a deformed person must then be a complete
monster. But however common the case may be, my own
sensations inform me that it is not universally true. If
by natural affection is meant a partial regard for indivi¬
duals, I believe the remark is judicious, and founded in
human nature. Deformed persons are despised, ridiculed,
and ill-treated by others; they are seldom favourites, and
commonly most neglected by parents, guardians, and rela¬
tions ; and therefore, as they are not indebted for much
fondness, it is no wonder if they repay but little. It is the
command of Scripture, not to set our affections on things
below; and it is the voice of reason not to overvalue what
we must soon part with ; therefore, to be so fond of others
as not to be able to bear their absence or to survive them,
is neither a religious nor moral duty, but a childish and
womanish weakness; and I must congratulate deformed
persons, who by example are early taught another lesson.
And I will now lay open my own heart to the reader, that
he may judge if Lord Bacon’s position is verified in me.
“ I hope it proceeds not from a malignity of heart; but
may influence mankind. I weep when 1 hear a Titus say,
that he had lost the day in which he did no good; when
Adrian tells his enemy that he had escaped by his being
emperor; or Louis XII. that he is not to revenge the af¬
front of the Duke of Orleans. These are the first instances
that happen to occur to me. I might recollect many, too
many to insert in this essay; yet all are but few, compar¬
ed to instances of cruelty and revenge ; perhaps I am con¬
cerned that they are so rare; perhaps too I inwardly
grieve that I am not in a situation to do the like. I am
entertained, but not moved, when I read Voltaire’s His¬
tory of Charles XII.; but I melt into tears on reading
Hanway’s character of his antagonist Peter the Great.
The first is a story of a madman; the other of a father,
friend, and benefactor of his people, whose character, as
the author observes in the conclusion of it, will command
the admiration of all succeeding generations; and I sup¬
pose I lament that God is pleased to advance to royalty
so few such instruments of good to mankind.”
Again: “ I am uneasy when I see a dog, a horse, or
any other animal, ill treated: for I consider them as en¬
dued with quick sense, and no contemptible share of rea¬
son ; and that God gave man dominion over them, not to
play the tyrant, but to be a good prince, and promote the
happiness of his subjects. But I am much more uneasy
at any cruelty to my own species ; and heartily wish Pro¬
crustes disciplined in his own bed, and Phalaris in his bull.
A man bruized all over in a boxing match, or cut to pieces
in fighting a prize, is a shocking spectacle; and I think I
could with less horror see a thousand fall in battle, than
human nature thus depreciated and disgraced. Violence,
when exerted in wantonness or passion, is brutality; and
Li.
676
DEFORMITY.
Deformity, can be termed bravery only when it is sanctioned by jus-
'**,~^*S tice and necessity.
“ I have been in a situation to see not a little of the
pomp and vanity as well as of the necessity and misery of
mankind; but the last only affect me; and if, as a magi¬
strate, I am ever guilty of partiality, it is in favour of the
poor. When I am at church among my poor but honest
neighbours in the country, and see them serious in per¬
forming the ceremonies prescribed, tears sometimes steal
down my cheek on reflecting that they are doing and
hearing many things they do not understand, while those
who understand them better neglect them ; that they who
labour and live hard are more thankful to heaven than
those who fare luxuriously on the fruits of their labour ;
and are keeping and repeating the fourth commandment
at the very instant the others are breaking it.
“ These are some of the sensations I feel, which I have
freely and fairly disclosed, that the reader may judge how
far I am an instance of a deformed person wanting natu¬
ral affection. And I am a good subject of speculation,
because all in me is nature; for, to own the truth, I have
taken but little pains (though I ought to have taken a
great deal) to correct my natural defects.
“ Lord Bacon’s next position is, ‘ That deformed persons
are extremely bold; first in their own defence, as being
exposed to scorn ; but in process of time by a general ha¬
bit.’ This probably is so among the inferior sort, who are
in the way of continual insults; for a return of abuse is a
natural weapon of self-defence, and in some measure jus¬
tified bv the law of retaliation. To upbraid a man with a
personal defect, which he cannot help, is also an immoral
act; and he who does it has reason to expect no better
quarter than to hear of faults which it was in his own
power not to commit. But I find this observation far from
being verified in myself; an unbecoming bashfulness has
been the consequence of my ill figure, and of the worse
management of me in my childhood. I am always uneasy
when any one looks stedfastly on so bad a picture, and
cannot look with a proper confidence in the face of ano¬
ther. I have ever reproached myself with this weakness,
but am not able to correct it. And it may be a disadvan¬
tage to a man in tbe opinion of those he converses with;
for though true modesty is amiable, the false is liable to
misconstruction; and when a man is out of countenance
for no reason, it may be imagined that he has some bad
reason for being so. In point of assurance, I am indeed a
perfect riddle to myself; for I, who feel a reluctance in
crossing a drawing-room, or in opening my mouth in pri¬
vate company before persons with whom I am not well
acquainted, find little in delivering my sentiments in pub¬
lic, and exposing my discourse, often as trifling as my per¬
son, to the ears of a thousand. From what cause this pro¬
ceeds I know not; it may be partly from hopes of wiping
off any ill impression from my person by my discourse,
partly from a sense of doing my duty, and partly from a
security in public assemblies from any gross personal re¬
flection.
“ Lord Bacon compares the case of deformed persons to
that of eunuchs, ‘ in whom kings were wont to put great trust
as good spies and whisperers; for they that are envious to¬
wards all, are more obsequious and officious towards one.
But, with submission to so good a judge of human nature, I
own I can discover no uncommon qualification in them for
spies, and very few motives to envy peculiar to themselves.
Spies submit to that base and ungenerous office, either for
the sake of interest or power: if for interest, it is to gra¬
tify their covetousness; if for power, their ambition or re¬
venge ; which passions are not confined to the eunuch or
deformed, but indiscriminately seize all classes of men.
Envv too may prompt a man to mean actions, in order to
bring down the person envied to bis own level; but if itDeforn;
is on account of superiority of fortune it will operate alike v—-vt
on men of all shapes. Eunuchs have but one peculiar mo¬
tive to envy ; but that, as Lord Bacon expresses it, makes
them envious towards all, because it is for a pleasure
which all but themselves may enjoy. Deformed persons
are deprived only of beauty and strength, and therefore
those alone are to be deemed the extraordinary motives
to their envy; for they can no more be beautiful or strong
than eunuchs be successful lovers. As to myself, what¬
ever sparks of envy might be in my constitution, they are
now entirely extinguished; for, by frequent and serious
reflections, I have long been convinced of the small value
of most things which men value the most.
“ There is another passion to which deformed persons
seem to be more exposed than to envy, which is jealousy;
for being conscious that they are less amiable than others,
they may naturally suspect that they are less beloved. I have
the happiness to speak this from conjecture, and not from
experience; for it was my lot, many years ago, to marry
a young lady, very piously educated, and of a very distin¬
guished family, and whose virtues are an honour to her
family and her sex; so that I had never any trial of my
temper, and can only guess at it by emotions I have felt
in my younger days, when ladies have been more liberal
of their smiles to those whom I thought in every respect
but person my inferiors.”
The most useful inference from all this to a deformed
person is, to be upon his guard against those frailties to
which he is more particularly exposed, and to be careful
that the outward frame do not distort the soul. Oran-
dum est, says Juvenal, ut sit mens sana in corporesano,
“ Let us pray for a sound mind in a healthy body ;” and
every deformed person should add this petition, ut sit mens
recta in corpore curvo, for “ an upright mind in a crooked
“ And let him frequently apply to himself this arti-
one.   —  1 ^ 11 ^
cle of self-examination, Lenior et melior jis, accedente se-
necta ? “ As age approaches, do your temper and morals
improve?” It is a duty peculiarly incumbent; for if
beauty adds grace to virtue itself, vice must be doubly
hideous in deformity.
Ridicule and contempt are a certain consequence of
deformity; and therefore what a person cannot avoid, he
should learn to disregard. He should bear it like a man,
forgive it as a Christian, and consider it as a philosopher;
and his triumph will be complete if he can exceed others
in pleasantry on himself. Wit will cease when it sees
itself outdone, and so will malice when it finds it has no
effect; and if a man’s behaviour afford no cause of con¬
tempt, it will fall upon those who condemn him without
cause.
Instead of repining, therefore, a deformed person ought
to be thankful to Providence for giving him such a guard
to his virtue and repose. Thousands are daily ruined by a
handsome person; for beauty is a flower which every one
wants to gather in its bloom, and spares no pains or stra¬
tagem to reach. All the poetical stories conceining it
have their moral. A Helen occasions war and confusion;
the Hyacinths and Ganymedes are seized on for cata¬
mites ; the Endymions and Adonises for gallants; Nar¬
cissus can admire nobody but himself, and grows old be¬
fore he is cured of that passion. Who is a stranger to the
story of Lucretia killing herself for her violated chastity ?
or of Virginia killed by her father to preserve it ? In those
circumstances, says Juvenal, she might have wished to
change persons with Rutila, the only lady we know amongst
the ancients celebrated for a hump-back. The handsomest
men are chosen for eunuchs and gallants; and when they
are detected in exercising the last function, both Horace
and Juvenal inform us of the penalties and indignities
D E F
fty. they undergo. Silius was converted by the insatiable Mes-
j salina into a husband, and Sporus, by the monster Nero,
into a wife. The last-mentioned poet shows that praying
for beauty is praying for a curse. And Persius refuses to
join in such a prayer: and has 'not the deformed person
reason to thank his stars, which have placed him more out
of danger than even virtue itself could do ? for that could
not guard a Joseph, an Hippolytus, a Bellerophon, and
others, against the revenge of slighted love.
Another great advantage of deformity is, that it tends
to the improvement of the mind. A man who cannot
shine in his person will have recourse to his understand¬
ing, and attempt to adorn that part of him which alone is
capable of ornament. When his ambition prompts him to
begin, with Cowley, to ask himself this question,
What shall I do to be for ever known,
And make the age to come my own ?
on looking around him, he will find many avenues to the
temple of fame barred against him; but some are still
open through that of virtue; and these, if he has a right
ambition, he will most probably attempt to pass. The
more a man is inactive in his person, the more his mind
will be at work; the time which others spend in action
he will pass in study and contemplation; and by these he
may acquire wisdom, and through wisdom fame. The name
of Socrates is as much sounded as those of Alexander
and Caesar, and is recorded in much fairer characters. He
gained renown by wisdom and goodness, they by tyranny
and oppression ; he by instructing, they by destroying
mankind: and happy it is that their evil deeds were con¬
fined to their lives, whilst he continues to instruct us to
this day. A deformed person will naturally consider where
his strength and his foible lie.; and as he is well acquainted
with the last, he will easily find out the first; and must
know that, if it is anywhere, it is not, like Samson’s, in the
hair, but must be in the lining of the head. He will say
to himself, “ I am weak in person; unable to serve my
country in the field, I can acquire no military glory; but
I may, like Socrates, acquire reputation by wisdom and
probity; let me therefore be wise and honest. My figure
is bad, and I should appear but ill as an orator either in
the pulpit or at the bar; let me therefore pass my time
in my study, either in reading what may improve myself,
or in writing what may entertain or instruct others. I
have not the strength of Hercules, nor can I rid the world
of so many monsters; but perhaps I may get rid of some
that infest myself. If I cannot draw out Cacus from his
den, I may pluck the villain from my own breast. I can¬
not cleanse the stable of Augeas, but I may cleanse my
own heart from filth and impurity. I may demolish the
hydra of vices within me; and be careful too, that whilst
I lop off one, I do not suffer more to grow up in its stead.
Let me be serviceable in any way that I can ; and if I am
so, it may in some measure be owing to my deformity,
which at least should be a restraint on my conduct, lest
my conduct make me more deformed.”
Few persons have a house entirely to their mind, or the
apartments in it disposed as they could wash; and there
is no deformed person who does not wish that his soul
had a better habitation, which is sometimes not lodged
according to its quality. Lord Clarendon says of Sir
Charles Cavendish, brother to the Marquis of Newcastle,
that he was a man of the noblest and largest mind, though
of the least and most inconvenient body, that lived ; and
every body knows that the Prince of Orange had many
amiable qualities; therefore, in justice to such persons, we
must suppose that they did not repine that their tene¬
ments were not in a more regular style of architecture.
And let every deformed person comfort himself with fe-
DEG 677
fleeting, that though his soul has not the most convenient Defossion
and beautiful apartment, yet that it is habitable; that the II
accommodation will serve as an inn upon the road; that Degrada-
he is but tenant for life, or, more properly, at will; and tlon‘
that, whilst he remains in it, he is in a state to be envied
by the deaf, the dumb, the lame, and the blind.
DEFOSSION (Defossio), the punishment of burying
alive, inflicted amongst the Homans on vestal virgins guilty
of incontinency. It is also a custom among the Hunga¬
rians to inflict this punishment on women convicted of
adultery. Heretics were likewise punished in this manner.
DEGENERATION, or Degenerating, in general, de¬
notes the growing worse, or losing some valuable quali¬
ties of which a thing was formerly possessed. Some natu¬
ralists have been of opinion, that things are capable of
degenerating into quite a distinct species, but this is
chimerical. All that happens in the degeneration of a
plant, for instance, is the losing its usual beauty, colour,
smell, or the like, a circumstance entirely owing to its
being planted in an improper soil, climate, or situation.
DEGRADATION, in our law books called disgradation
and deposition, the act of depriving or stripping a person
for ever of a dignity or degree of honour, and taking away
the title, badge, and privileges thereof.
The degradation of a peer, a priest, a knight, a gentle¬
man, an officer, or such like person, is performed with dif¬
ferent ceremonies. That which anciently obtained in de¬
grading a person from his nobility is very curious. It was
practised in the time of Francis I. upon Captain Fangel, who
had in a cowardly manner given up Fbntarabia, of which
he wras governor. On this occasion, twenty or thirty ca¬
valiers, without blemish or reproach, were assembled; be¬
fore whom the gentleman was accused of treason and
breach of faith by a king-at-arms. Two scaffolds were
erected ; the one for the judges, heralds, and pursuivants,
and the other for the guilty cavalier, who was armed at
all points, and his shield placed on a stake before him,
reversed with the point upwards. There also assisted
twelve priests in surplices, who sung the vigils of the
dead. At the close of each psalm they made a pause,
during which the officers of arms stripped the condemned
of some piece of his armour, beginning with the helmet,
and proceeding thus till he was quite disarmed, which being
done, they broke his shield in three pieces with a hammer.
Then the king-at-arms emptied a bason of hot water on
the criminal’s head, and the judges, putting on mourn¬
ing habits, went to the church. This being done, the
degraded was drawn from off the scaffold with a rope tied
under his arm-pits, laid on a bier, and covered with mor¬
tuary clothes, the priest singing some of the prayers for the
dead, and then he was delivered to the civil judge and the
executioner of justice.
For a more domestic instance, Sir Andrew Harcla, earl
of Carlisle, being attainted and convicted of treason, by
the 18th Edward II. coram rege, after judgment had been
pronounced on him, his sword was broken over his head,
and his spurs hewn off his heels; Sir Anthony Lucy, the
judge, saying to him, “ Andrew, now thou art no knight,
but a knave.” By statute 13th Car. II. William Lord
Monson, Sir Henry Mildmay, and others, were degraded
from all titles of honour, dignities, and pre-eminences, and
prohibited to bear or use the title of lord, knight, esquire,
or gentleman, or any coat of arms, for ever afterwards. It
has been maintained that the king may degrade a peer;
but it appears from modern authorities that he cannot
be degraded but by act of parliament.
As to ecclesiastics, we have an instance of degradation
before condemnation to death, in the eighth century, at
Constantinople. It is in the person of the patriarch Con¬
stantine, whom Constantine Copronymus caused to be
H
678
D E H
Dehindah.
Degrada- executed. He was made to ascend tlie ambo, when the
lion patriarch Nicetas sent some of his bishops to strip him of
11 the pallium, and to anathematize him ; then they made
him go out of the church backwards.
But we have a much later instance in our own history.
When Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, was degraded
by order of Queen Mary, they dressed him in episcopal
robes, made only of canvass, put the mitre on his head, and
the pastoral staff in his hand, and in this attire showed
him to the people ; and this being done, they stripped him
again piece by piece. Subsequently they did not stand so
much on the ceremony of degradation in order to the put¬
ting of a priest to death, by reason of the delays and dit-
ficulties which it would occasion. Pope Bonitace pro¬
nounced that six bishops were required to degrade a
priest; but the difficulty of assembling so many bishops
rendered the punishment frequently impracticable. In
England, a priest, after being delivered to his ordinary, it
he’ cannot purge himself of the crime with which he is
charged, his gown and other robes are stripped ovei his
ears ^by tbe common hangman, by which he is declared
divested of his orders. , • ,
It has been decided, however, that degradation does not
efface the priestly character. Degradation seems only to
differ from deposition in a few ignominious ceremonies
which custom has added thereto. Accordingly, in the
business of Arnoul, archbishop of Rheims, sentenced in
the council of Orleans in 991, it was deliberated what
form they should follow in the deposition ; whether that
of the canons, that is, simple deposition; or that of cus¬
tom, namely, degradation. And it was declared that he
should surrender the ring, pastoral staff, and pallium, but
that his robes should not be torn off. In effect, the canons
prescribe no more than a mere reading ol the sentence.
It is the rest, therefore, added thereto by custom, namely,
the stripping off the ornaments, and the tearing the pon¬
tifical vestments, that properly constitutes degradation.
Degradation, in Painting, expresses the lessening the
appearance of distant objects in a landscape, in tbe same
manner as they would appear to an eye placed at that dis¬
tance from them. . .
DEGREE, in Geometry, a division of a circle, including
a three hundred and sixtieth part ot its circumference.
Degree of Latitude. See Latitude.
Degree of Longitude. See Longitude.
A degree of the meridian on the surface of the globe
has been variously determined by various observers. Mr
Picart measured a degree in the latitude ot 49 2P, and
found it equal to 57,060 French toises. But the French
mathematicians, who examined Mr Picart s operations,
assure us that the degree in that latitude is 57,183 toises.
Our countryman, Mr Norwood, measured the distance
between London and York, and found it 905,/51 English
feet; and finding the difference of latitudes 2° 28'_, deter¬
mined the quantity of one degree to be 367,196 English feet,
or 69 English miles and 288 yards. Maupertuis measured
a degree in Lapland, in the latitude of 66° 20', and found
it 57,438 toises. A degree was likewise measured at the
equator by other French mathematicians, and found to
contain 56,767*8 toises. Whence it appears that the earth
is not a sphere, but an oblate spheroid.
Decree, in the civil and canon law, denotes an interval
in kinship, by which proximity and remoteness of blood
are computed.
Degrees, Academical. See Universities.
Degrees, in Music, are the little intervals of which the
concords or harmonical intervals are composed.
DEFIINDAH, a town of Hindustan, in the Nizam’s ter¬
ritories, in the province of Berar, forty miles south-west
from Ellichpoor. Long. 77. 47. E. Lat. 20. 53. N.
D E I
DEIPHON, in fabulous history, a brother of Triptole- Deipb:
mus, son of Celeus and Metanira. When Ceres travelled jj
over the world, she stopped at his father’s court, and Deist'
undertook to nurse him and bring him up. In order to ''“’’V7
reward the hospitality of Celeus, the goddess began to
make his son immortal, and every evening she placed him
on burning coals to purify him from whatever mortal par¬
ticles he still possessed. The uncommon growth of Dei-
phon astonished Metanira, who wished to see what Ceres
had done to make him so vigorous. But she became fright¬
ened to see her son on burning coals, and the shrieks which
she uttered having disturbed the mysterious operations of
the goddess, Deiphon perished in the flames.
DEISCAL, in the ancient British customs, the name of
a ceremony originally used in the druidical worship, and
retained in many places down to a very late period, as a
civil ceremony towards persons of particular distinction.
The temples of the ancient Britons were all circular; and
the druids, in performing the public offices of their reli¬
gion, never neglected to make three turns round the altar,
accompanied by all the worshippers. This practice was
so habitual to the ancient Britons, that it continued in
some places many ages after the druids and their religion
were both destroyed. In the Scottish isles, the vulgar
never come to the ancient sacrificing and fire-hallowing
cairns, but they walk three times round them, from east
to west, according to the course of the sun. This sancti¬
fied tour, or round by the south, is called deiscal, from
deas or dess, the right hand, and soil or sul, the sun; the
right hand being ever next the heap or cairn. In the
same isles it is the custom and fashion of the people to
testify their respect for their chieftains, the proprietors of
their several isles, and other persons of distinction, by
performing the deiscal round them in the same manner.
A gentleman giving an account of his reception in one of
the Western Islands, of which he was proprietor, describes
the ceremony of the deiscal in this manner: “ One of the
natives would needs express his high esteem for my per¬
son, by making a turn round about me, sun-ways, and at
the same time blessing me, and wishing me all happiness.
But I bid him let alone that piece of homage, telling him
I was sensible of his good meaning towards me. But this
poor man was very much disappointed, as were also his
neighbours; for they doubted not but this ancient cere¬
mony would have been very acceptable to me ; and one
of them told me that this was a thing due to my charac¬
ter from them as to their chief and patron, and that they
could not, and would not, fail to perform it.”
DEISM, the doctrine or belief of the deists. Deism,
from Oeos, God, is properly used to denote natural reli¬
gion, as comprehending those truths which have a real
foundation in reason and nature ; and in this sense it is so
far from being opposed to Christianity, that it is one great
design of the gospel to illustrate and enforce it. Thus some
of the deistical writers have affected to use it. But deism
more commonly signifies that system of religion, relating
both to doctrine and practice, which every man may dis¬
cover for himself by the mere force of natural reason,
independently of all revelation, and exclusive of it; and
this religion, Dr Tindal and others pretend, is so perfect,
as to be incapable of receiving any addition or improve¬
ment even from divine revelation.
DEISTS, a class of people known also under the deno¬
mination of Free-thinkers, whose distinguishing character
it is not to profess any particular form or systern of reli¬
gion ; but only to acknowledge the existence of a God, and
to follow the light and law of nature, rejecting revelation,
and opposing Christianity.
This name seems to have been first assumed as
denomination of a party about the middle of the sixteent
D ::s-
DEI
century, by some gentlemen in France and Italy, who
were desirous of thus disguising their opposition to Chris¬
tianity by a more honourable appellation than that of
atheists. Virot, an eminent reformer, mentions certain
persons, in his epistle dedicatory prefixed to the second vo¬
lume of his Instruction Chretienne, published in 1563, who
called themselves by a new name, that of Deists. These,
he tells us, professed to believe in God, but showed no
regard to Jesus Christ, and considered the doctrines of the
apostles and evangelists as fables and dreams. He adds,
that they laughed at all religion, though they outwardly
conformed to the religion of those with whom they lived,
or whom they wished to please, or feared to offend. Some,
he observes, professed to believe the immortality of the
soul, but others denied both this doctrine and that of a
providence. Many of them were considered as persons of
acute and subtile genius, and took pains in disseminating
their notions.
The deists hold that, considering the multiplicity of
religions, the numerous pretences to revelation, and the
precarious arguments generally advanced in proof of them,
the best and surest way is to return to the simplicity of
nature and the belief of one God, which is the only truth
agreed to by all nations. They complain, that the free¬
dom of thinking and reasoning is oppressed under the yoke
of religion, and that the minds of men are ridden and
tyrannized by the necessity imposed on them of believing
inconceivable mysteries; and contend that nothing should
be required to be assented to or believed but what their
reason clearly conceives.
The distinguishing character of modern deists is, that
they reject all revealed religion, and discard all pretences
to it, as the effects of imposture or enthusiasm. They pro¬
fess a great regard for natural religion, though they are
far from being agreed in their notions concerning it. They
are classed by some of their own writers as mortal and
immortal deists; the latter acknowledging a future state,
and the former denying it, or representing it as very un¬
certain.
Dr Clarke distinguishes four sorts of deists. 1. Those
who pretend to believe the existence of an eternal, in¬
finite, independent, intelligible Being, who made the world,
without concerning himself in the government of it. 2.
Those who believe the being and natural providence of
God, but deny the difference of actions, as morally good
or evil, resolving it into the arbitrary constitution of hu¬
man laws, and who therefore suppose that God takes no
notice of them. With respect to both these classes, he
observes that their opinions can consistently terminate in
nothing but downright atheism. 3. Those who have right
apprehensions concerning the nature, attributes, and all-
governing providence of God, and seem also to have some
notion of his moral perfections, though they consider them
as transcendent, and such in nature and degree that we
can form no true judgment, nor argue with any certainty,
concerning them, but who deny the immortality of hu¬
man souls, alleging that men perish at death, and that the
present life is the whole of human existence. 4. Those
who believe the existence, perfections, and providence of
God, the obligation of natural religion, and a state of fu¬
ture retribution, on the evidence of the light of nature,
without a divine revelation. Such as these, he says, are the
only true deists ; but their principles, he apprehends, should
lead them to embrace Christianity; and therefore he con¬
cludes that there is now no consistent scheme of deism in
the world.
The first deistical writer of any note who appeared in
this country was Lord Herbert. He lived and wrote in
the seventeenth century ; and his book De Veritate was first
published at Paris in 1624. This, together with his book
DEL
679
De Causis Errorum, and his treatise De Eeligione Laid, Deitv
weie afterwards published in London. His celebrated II
work De Religione Gentilium was published at Amster-I)elarnbre-
dam in 1663 in 4to, and in 1700 in 8vo; and an English
translation of it appeared at London in 1705. As he
was one of the first who formed deism into a system, and
asserted the sufficiency, universality, and absolute perfec¬
tion of natural religion, with a view to discard all extra¬
ordinary revelation as useless and needless, we shall sub¬
join the five fundamental articles of this universal relimon.
These are, 1. That there is one supreme God : 2. That he
is chiefly to be worshipped: 3. That piety and virtue are
the principal part of his worship: 4. That we must re¬
pent of our sins, and if we do so God wall pardon them:
5. That there are rewards for good men, and punishments
for bad men, both here and hereafter.
DEITY, Godhead, a common appellation given to God,
and also by the poets applied to the heathen gods and
goddesses.
DEJANIRA, in fabulous history, daughter of CEneus,
King of iEtolia, and wife of Hercules. The centaur Nes-
sus having endeavoured to ravish her, was slain by Her¬
cules with a poisoned arrow. Nessus, when dying, gave
his bloody tunic to Dejanira, assuring her that it was a
sovereign remedy to cure her husband if ever he proved
unfaithful. Some time afterwards, Dejanira thinking she
had reason to suspect his fidelity, sent him the tunic,
which he had no sooner put on than he was seized with
the most excruciating torments. Being unable to sup¬
port his pains, he retired to Mount QEta, and erecting a
pile of wood, set fire to it, and threw himself into the
flames, upon which Dejanira killed herself in despair.
DEJECTION, in Astrology, is applied to the planets
when in their detriment, as astrologers speak, that is,
when they have lost their force or influence, as is pre¬
tended, by reason of their being in opposition to some
others which check and counteract them; or it is used
when a planet is in a sign opposite to that in which it has
its greatest effect or influence, which is called its exaltation.
Thus, the sign Aries being the exaltation of the sun, the
opposite sign Libra is its dejection.
DELAMBRE, J. B. J. an eminent mathematician and
astronomer, was born at Amiens on the 19th September
1749. He studied in the gymnasium of that town, and by
his intimate acquaintance with the Latin and Greek lan¬
guages, as well as his amiable disposition and prodigious
memory, he drew the attention of his preceptor, the cele¬
brated French poet the Abbe Delisle, who at that time
taught in the college. This was the beginning of a friend¬
ship between them, which only terminated with the life of
the poet.
Having accomplished his first course of studies, it re¬
mained to pursue in Paris a career begun under such fa¬
vourable auspices; but the expense exceeded his resour¬
ces. Fortunately, however, his family had formerly found¬
ed a gratuitous place for a limited time in one of the great
colleges of the University of Paris: the town of Amiens,
which appears to have had the disposal of it, bestowed it
on Delambre; and thus the benefit of an act of benefi¬
cence was reflected back on its source.
The time during which he was to enjoy the advantage
he had obtained passed away, and his family, subjected to
many other kinds of expense, left him to provide for him¬
self. In this state he passed more than a year in expectation
of a better situation, and supported with constancy very
great privations. It was then that he gave himself up to those
historical and literary studies which were the origin of his
future labours. He undertook extensive translations of
works in the Latin, Greek, Italian, and English languages,
not for the sake of gain, which, however, he might have
680
DEL
Delambre. got, but solely with a view to complete his studies. From
v—the same motive he entered on the study of the mathe¬
matical sciences. .
The great merit of Delambre, the habitual suavity ot
his character and manners, and the resolution he had ta¬
ken to begin anew the entire course of his studies, a.nd
proceed, by his own efforts alone, engaged the attention
of some, who advised him to consecrate a few years to the
giving of instruction ; and with this view he went to Com-
piegne; but he soon returned to Paris, a residence in
which was now essentially necessary to his studies. 1 here
he pursued the same career, but with increased advan¬
tages ; and this procured him a competent and independent
subsistence#
He now yielded to the natural impulse of his mind in
the pursuit of knowledge, studying profoundly the difter-
ent mathematical theories, as also physics and astronomy ;
and continuing to cultivate history and general iterature.
No one could proceed with more system, or show more
constancy in exploring the vast field of human knowledge ;
indeed perseverance was a distinguishing feature of his
character. When he presented himself at the College of
France to follow the lessons of Lalande, he had already
read the works of that astronomer, and had made a com¬
plete commentary on them. Ihis was first remarked when,
in the course of instruction, an occasion offered to him of
citing from memory a passage of Aratus. Lalande imme¬
diately foresaw the advantages his pupil was likely to con¬
fer on science, and from that moment regarded Delambre
as a fellow-labourer. He entrusted to him the most com¬
plicated astronomical calculations, and prevailed on M.
Dassy, whose son had received lessons from Delambre, to
establish an observatory at his house, where Delambre
apnlied himself to astronomical observations. He at the
same time undertook the most extensive researches ; he
formed the design of completing the astronomical tables;
and he dedicated his life to the study and the description
of the heavens, a resolution he had previously entertained
during his stay at Compiegne.
In the year 1781 the discovery of the Georgium bidus
or Uranus, by Herschel, excited general attention among
astronomers ; and the Academy of Sciences proposed the
determination of its orbit as the subject of one of its annual
prizes. Delambre undertook the formation of tables of its
motion, and the prize was awarded to him for his labour.
His next effort was the construction of solar tables, also
tables of the motions of Jupiter and Saturn; he likewise un¬
dertook the construction of ecliptical tables of the satellites
of Jupiter, and in a few years he completed that laborious
and extensive work. He took a part in the sitting of the
Academy of Sciences when Laplace communicated his mi*
portant discoveries on the inequalities of Jupiter and Sa¬
turn ; and he formed the design of applying the result .of
that profound analysis to the completion of tables of the
two planets. Delambre applied himself more especially to
the satellites of Jupiter, an undertaking of great difficulty
and extent. In this he was sustained by two powerful
motives, public utility, and the dignity of the subject. He
had been engaged for several years in the composition of
his ecliptical tables, when the Academy of Sciences pro¬
posed the same question as the subject of a prize: it was
awarded to his labours, and soon afterwards, viz. in 1792,
he was elected a member of the academy.
The great diversity of weights and measures, and the
consequent inconvenience to commerce, engaged the at¬
tention of the French nation about the time of the first revo¬
lution ; and in the year 1790, Tallyrand, then minister of fo¬
reign relations, brought the subject before the constituent
assembly, where it was resolved that the king should be
requested to apply to bis Britannic majesty, with the view
DEL
of getting the English parliament to concur with the na-Delam-
tional assembly in fixing on some natural unit as a stand-
ard. It was proposed that commissioners from the Aca¬
demy of Sciences should meet an equal number of mem¬
bers of the Royal Society of London, in order to ascertain
the length of a pendulum in some determinate latitude,
and thence to deduce an invariable model for all weights
and measures; and a commission, composed of Borda, La¬
grange, Laplace, Monge, and Condorcet, was appointed to
consider this grand project. Besides the length of the pen¬
dulum, two other units were suggested, namely, a quad¬
rant of the elliptic meridian, and a fourth part of the
earth’s circumference at the equator. Of the three, the
commission adopted the quadrant of the meridian, and
its execution was begun by appointing Delambre and Me-
chain to measure an arc from Dunkirk to Barcelona. This
undertaking, in itself laborious, was, by circumstances which
arose out of the revolution, rendered highly dangerous to
the personal safety of those engaged in it. Mechain died
whilst the work was proceeding, and its successful termi¬
nation was at last accomplished by the zeal, the talents,
the perseverance, and the prudence of Delambre. The de¬
tails of this grand labour have been consigned to posterity
in his work entitled Base du Systeme Metrique Decimal,
the first volume of which bears the date of 1806, and the
third and last that of 1810. The labours of Delambre and
Mechain were followed up by those of Biot and Arago,
who have added as a supplement to the Base du Systtme
Metrique their Recueil d’ Observations Geodesiques, Astro-
nomiques, et Physiques, published in 1820, in which the
operations are detailed by which the measurement of the
meridian was prolonged from Barcelona to Formentera in
the Mediterranean. Altogether this work does honour to
the nation which produced such mathematicians, astrono¬
mers, and artists as were united in the execution of the
labours detailed in it, but particularly to Delambre, the
great directing mind that in the course of eight years
brought them to a successful termination. The opinion of
the National Institute of France was solemnly expressed
when, having considered what had been the most import¬
ant application of the mathematical and physical sciences
during the preceding ten years, the universal suffrages of
the members decreed the prize to the author of the Base
du Systeme Metrique.
Delambre, who had been chosen as an associate of almost
every scientific body in Europe, and a member of the
French Board of Longitude, was appointed perpetual secre¬
tary for the mathematical sciences in the Institute. He
had succeeded Lalande in the chair of astronomy of the
College of France, and he was appointed one of the prin¬
cipal directors (titulaires) of the university. For twenty
years he executed the duties of his office in one of the
classes of the Institute, and, in doing so, he enjoyed the re¬
putation of being impartial, faithful, and just. His annual
reports, his historical eloges, which have been published,
and his exposition of the progress of science, are eminent¬
ly distinguished by profound erudition, a talent for writing
formed on the best models, and, above all, by a disposi¬
tion of mind which inclined him to place in the most fa¬
vourable light the works of others, as far as was consistent
with historical truth. His literary and scientific labours
were very numerous, and, in respect to excellence, ot the
highest order. His History of Astronomy, comprehended
in six quarto volumes (a seventh has been promised), is a
work of prodigious research. It puts the modern astrono
mer in possession of all that has been done, and of the
methods employed by those who have gone b(;for<ihim-
His Methodes Analytique pour la Determination dun Arc
duMeridien, his numerous memoirs in the additions to the
Connaissances des Temps, and his Astronomie l eonque
DEL
mbre. Pratique, exhibit the finest applications of the modern
iV analysis to astronomy and geography; in fact, they have
given a new turn to these sciences. Astronomers have
now laid aside the purely geometrical methods, which,
however elegant, always required at last numerical calcu¬
lations, and instead of these, have expressed every thing
to be determined in astronomy by compact analytical fo£
mulae, of which a great number are due to Delambre.
It is a remarkable fact in the life of Delambre, that he
.did not apply himself to astronomical observations until
he was about thirty-five years of age ; whereas in general,
the particular subject in which a man is destined to excel
attracts his attention in early youth. In one respect this
was verified in the case of Delambre, for he manifested
an early promptitude in the acquisition of languages ; but
instead of spending his life in the study of mere words,
he made his skill in languages the key to knowledge, and
rendered it subservient to the elucidation of the history of
an important science, astronomy.
Delambre was appointed a member of the Royal Council
of Public Instruction in the year 1814; a place, however,
which he lost in 1815. He was in Paris when it was taken
by the allied armies; and in a letter written at that time
to a friend and pupil, he says, that on the day of the siege,
in the hearing of the cannonade, he laboured with tran¬
quillity in his study from eight in the morning till mid¬
night. He had a happier fate than the unfortunate Sici¬
lian geometer Archimedes in a like position, for not only
was he not molested by the victors, but no military man
was even billeted on him, probably from respect to his high
reputation. At the creation of the legion of honour, De¬
lambre was made a member of that order. He was ap¬
pointed chevalier of St Michael in 1817, an officer in the
legion of honour in 1821, but a long time before he was
created a hereditary chevalier, with an endowment, which
was decreed as a national reward.
The life of continued and hard study which Delambre
led at last affected his health. The disease by which he
was cut off became apparent in the month of July 1822.
His total loss of strength, with frequent and long-continued
fainting fits, gave warning of a fatal result. He foresaw
what was about to happen, but he preserved to the last
moment the unalterable mildness of his character, and
the serenity of his mind. At last, on the 19th of August
1822, at the age of seventy-two, he sunk under his dis¬
ease, not without having suffered, but without having com¬
plained, or betrayed any symptoms of impatience.
The following is a list of his works which appeared se¬
parately: 1. Tables de Jupiter et de Saturn, 1789; 2.
Tables du Soleil, de Jupiter, de Saturn, d’Uranus, et des
Satellites de Jupiter, pour servir a la 3me edition 1’Astro-
nomie de Lalande, 1792; 3. Methodes Analytiques pour
la Determination d’un Arc du Meridien, 1799; 4. Tables
Trigonometriques Decimales, par Borda, revues, augmen-
tees, et publiees par M. Delambre, 1801; 5. Tables du
Soleil (publiees par le Bureau des Longitudes), 1806;
6. Base du Systeme Metrique Decimal, &c. 3 vols. in
4to, 1806-1810; 7. Rapport Historique sur les Progres
des Sciences Mathematiques depuis 1789, &c. 1810; 8.
Abrege d’Astronomic, ou Lemons Elementaires d’Astrono¬
mic Theorique et Pratique, in 8vo; 9. Astronomic Theo-
rique et Pratique, 3 vols. in 4to, 1814; 10. Tables Eclip-
tiques des Satellites de Jupiter, 1817 ; 11. Histoire de
1’Astronomie Ancienne, 2 vols. in 4to; 12. Histoire de
1’Astronomie du Moyen Age, 1819, 1 vol. in 4to; 13. His¬
toire de 1’Astronomie Moderne, 1821, 2 vols. in 4to; 14.
Histoire de 1’Astronomie au Dixhuitieme Siecle, 2 vols. in
4to, 1827 (only one yet published, 1833).
In addition to these, he furnished a very considerable
number of memoirs (about twenty-eight) on various points
vol. vn.
DEL 681
of astronomy, to the Connaissances de Temps, beginning Delaoud
with the year 1788. He also contributed to the Memoirs II
ot the Academies of Stockholm, Petersburg, Berlin, andDelaware-
lurin, and to those of the first class of the French Insti-
tute; and he composed eloges on many of his predeceased
contemporaries, among which may be noticed one on our
highly distinguished countryman Dr Maskelyne, the as¬
tronomer-royal of England.
In conclusion, we may remark, that Delambre has ren¬
dered essential service to true knowledge by the pains he
took to dispel a delusion which had been propagated by
his friend Bailly regarding the antiquity of the Indian
astronomy. Almost every one is now satisfied that the
Indian tables, so far from having been composed from ob¬
servations made at so remote a period as 3000 years ago,
are probably not older than about 700 years. This vvas
the decided opinion of Delambre, and in this he has been
supported by the authority of Laplace.
DELAOUD, a town of Hindustan, belonging to the
Mahrattas, in the province of Malwah, twenty-four miles
north from Bopal. Long. 77. 26. E. Lat. 23. 36. N.
DELAWARE, one ot the United States, bounded on
the north by Pennsylvania, on the east by Delaware River
and Bay, and on the south and west by Maryland. It is
in long. 74. 56. to 75. 40. W. lat. 38. 29. to 39. 47. N.;
is ninety-two miles long, and twenty-three broad; and
contains 2120 square miles. It is divided into three coun¬
ties, which are subdivided into twenty-five hundreds. Do¬
ver is the seat of government, but Wilmington is the
largest town. The other most considerable towns are
Newcastle, Georgetown, Smyrna, Milford, and Lewis-
town. Presbyterians are the most numerous denomina¬
tion of Christians; but there are, besides, a considerable
number of Methodists. The legislature consists of a se¬
nate chosen for three years, and a house of representa¬
tives, chosen annually on the first Tuesday of October.
The governor is chosen by the people for three years, but
he can hold the office only three years in six. The prin¬
cipal rivers, besides the Delaware, which forms a part of
the boundary, are Brandywine Creek, Christiana Creek,
Duck Creek, Mispillion Creek, Indian River, Choptant,
and Nanticoke. Delaware is, next to Rhode Island, the
smallest state in the Union, and the most diversified in
surface. The general aspect of the greater part of it is
that of an extended plain, though the north-western por¬
tion of the county of Newcastle is hilly or uneven. The
heights of Christiana are lofty and commanding, and the
hills of Brandywine are rough and stony; but in the
lower country there is little diversity of level. The high¬
est ridge between Delaware and Chesapeake Bay passes
through this state; and on the summit of the ridge there
is a chain of swamps, from which a number of waters de¬
scend on the west to Chesapeake Bay, and on the east to
the Delaware River. Along the Delaware, and for about
nine miles into the interior, the soil is generally a rich
clay, which produces large timber, and is well adapted to
the purposes of agriculture; but between this tract and
the swamps the soil is light, sandy, and of an inferior
quality. In the county of Newcastle the soil is a stony
clay, in Kent it is mixed with sand, and in Sussex the
sand greatly predominates. The principal articles of pro¬
duce are wheat, Indian corn, rye, barley, oats, flax, buck¬
wheat, and potatoes. The county of Sussex contains some
excellent grazing lands; and it exports great quantities of
timber, obtained from Cypress Swamp, on Indian River,
which extends about six miles from east to west, and
nearly twelve from north to south. The staple commo¬
dity is wheat, which is of a superior quality, and is highly
esteemed for its uncommon softness and whiteness, and is
therefore preferred in foreign markets. Large establish-
C82
DEL
Delaware ments have been erected for manufacturing wheat into
II flour. Of these, the Brandywine mills, in the vicinity of
Delegates. Wilmington, are the most important. They are the finest
collection of mills in the United States, and are celebrated
both for the excellence and the quantity of flour which
they manufacture. Delaware contains very fine minerals.
In the county of Sussex, and amongst the branches of
the Nanticoke, are large quantities of bog iron ore, wTell
adapted for casting. Before the Revolution it was wrought
to a great extent, but since that event the business has
declined. ,
Delaware was settled by the Swedes and rinns as early
as 1627. The colony was formed under the auspices of
Gustavus Adolphus, king of Sweden, who named the coun¬
try Nova Swecia. Iloarhill, now Lewistown, was found¬
ed in 1630; but the Dutch having claimed the country, it
passed under their power in 1655. In 1604 the colony on
the Delaware fell, with other parts of New Amsterdam,
into the hands of the English ; and was granted by Charles
II. to his brother James, duke of York, who, in 1682, con¬
veyed it, as far as Henlopen, to William Penn. In 1704
Delaware, though under the same proprietor, became a
separate colonial establishment, and it remained as such
until the Revolution. Its constitution was formed in 1776.
The Chesapeake and Delaware Canal crosses this state.
As a manufacturing state, Delaware holds a rank far above
its relative extent and population. The works near Wil¬
mington are extensive and highly valuable. As early as
1810, the value of the various manufactures exceeded
1 733,000 dollars. The population amounted in 1790 to
59,094, in 1800 to 64,272, in 1810 to 72,674, and in 1820
to 72,749; the white males being 27,904, white females
27,377, free blacks 12,958, slaves 4509.
Delaware, a river of the United States, which rises in
Catskill Mountains, in New York. In its course it separates
Pennsylvania from New York and New Jersey, and loses
itself in Delaware Bay, about five miles below Newcastle.
It is navigable for a seventy-four gun ship as far as Phila¬
delphia, fifty-five miles above the head of the bay, and
about a hundred and twenty from the ocean; for sloops
to the head of the tide at Trenton, thirty-five miles above
Philadelphia; and for boats a hundred miles farther, but
the boat navigation above Easton is very difficult. Its
two most important tributaries are the Schuylkill and the
Lehigh. The whole length, from its source to the bay, is
about three hundred miles. The principal towns on the
Delaware, besides Philadelphia, are Easton, Bristol, Iren-
ton, Bordentown, and Burlington.
Delaware Bay, a large bay or arm of the sea, between
the states of Delaware and NeW Jersey, formed by the
mouth of the Delaware River, and several other smaller
ones. It is sixty-five miles long, and in the centre about
thirty miles across, and about eighteen at its mouth, from
Cape Henlopen, in long. 76. 6. W. lat. 38. 47. N., to
Cape Mav, in long. 74. 52. W. lat. 38. 57. N.
DELDEN, a city in the circle of Almelo, of the pro¬
vince Overyssel, in the Netherlands, containing 3875 in¬
habitants.
DELEGATE, in a general sense, a deputy or commis¬
sioner appointed for a specific purpose.
Delegates, commissioners appointed by the king un¬
der the great seal, to hear and determine appeals from the
ecclesiastical court.
Court of Delegates, the great court of appeal in all ec¬
clesiastical causes. Jhese delegates are appointed by the
king’s commission under his great seal, issued out of chan¬
cery, in order to represent his royal person, and to hear
all appeals to him made by virtue of the statute 2o Henry
VIII. c. 19. This commission is usually composed of lords
spiritual and temporal, judges of the courts at Westmin-
D E L
ster, and doctors of the civil law. Appeals to Rome were Del® >
always looked upon by the English nation, even in the ox"
times of popery, with an evil eye, as being contrary to the II
liberty of the subject, the honour of the crown, and the JV
independence of the realm, and were first introduced, in
very turbulent times, in the sixteenth year of King Ste- J
phen ; at the same period, as Sir Henry Spelman observes,
that the civil and canon laws were first imported into Eng¬
land. But in a few years afterwards, in order to obviate
this growing practice, the constitutions made at Claren¬
don on account of the disturbances raised by Archbishop
Becket and other zealots of the holy see, expressly de¬
clared that appeals in causes ecclesiastical ought to lie
from the archdeacon to the diocesan, from the diocesan to
the archbishop of the province, and from the archbishop
to the king; and that they were not to proceed any fur¬
ther without special license from the crown. But the un¬
happy advantage which was given in the reign of King
John, and his son IlCnry III. to the encroaching power of
the pope, ever vigilant to improve all opportunities of ex¬
tending his jurisdiction to Britain, at length rivetted so
strongly the custom of appealing to Rome in causes ec¬
clesiastical, that it never could be thoroughly broken off
till the grand rupture happened in the reign of Henry
VIII. when all the jurisdiction usurped by the pope in mat¬
ters ecclesiastical was restored to the crown, to which it
had originally belonged; so that the statute 25 Henry
VIII. was in fact only declaratory of the ancient law of
the realm. But in case the king himself be a party in any
of these suits, the appeal does not then lie to him in
chancery, which would be absurd, but, by the 24 Henry
VIII. c. 12, to all the bishops of the realm, assembled in
the upper house of convocation.
DELETERIOUS, an appellation given to things of a
destructive or poisonous nature.
DELEYTOSA, a town of Spain, in the province of Es-
tremadura. It is situated on the south of the Tagus,
near the bridge of Arzobispo, to which the allies retreated
after the battle of Talavera.
DELFSHAVEN, a market-town in the circle of Rot¬
terdam, in the Netherlands, with a good harbour on the
right bank of the Maas, in which the Delft vessels lie. It
carries on great fisheries for herrings and stock-fish, and
has large distilleries for gin. The inhabitants amount to
2680. ° , . ,
DELFT, a city of the circle of Rotterdam, in the
Netherlands, situated on the river Schie. It is the seat
of the engineer, artillery, and marine schools, and is a
naval arsenal. It is a regular, well-built city, inteisected
with canals, and containing seven churches, one of them
with a tower three hundred feet in height. There is also
the palace in which William, first prince of Orange, was
assassinated in 1584; and in the churches are monuments
to Van Tromp and to Grotius. There are manufactories
of cloths, kerseys, and baizes, of the earthenware whose
name originated from the city, of geneva, and of heavy
iron goods, such as anchors and cannon. It contains 487U
houses, and 12,900 inhabitants. It is in long. 4. 16. 25.
E. and lat. 52. 0. 49. N. . , , ^ ^ ^
Delft Isle, or Cow Island, a small island oft thenortn-
west coast of Ceylon, seven miles in length by three and
a half in average breadth, and affording good pasturage
for horses. It is 'included in the collectorship of Jattna-
patam. Long. 79. 46. E. Lat. 9. 35. N.
Delft Ware, a kind of pottery of baked earth, covered
with an enamel or white glazing, which gives it the ap¬
pearance and neatness of porcelain. Some kinds of inis
enamelled pottery differ from others, either m their sus¬
taining sudden heat without breaking, or in the beau y
and regularity of their forms, enamel, and the painting
DEL
with which they are ornamented. In general, the fine
and beautifully enamelled potteries, which approach the
nearest to porcelain in external appearance, are, at the
same time, those which least resist a brisk fire; whilst
those which sustain a sudden heat are coarse, and re¬
semble common pottery.
The basis of this pottery is clay, which, when too fat, is
mixed with such a quantity of sand that the earth pre¬
serves enough of its ductility to be easily worked, mould¬
ed, and turned; and yet so that its fatness may be suffi¬
ciently counteracted, and that it may not crack or shrink
too much in drying or in baking. Vessels formed of this
earth must be dried very gently, to avoid cracking. They
are then placed in a furnace to receive a slight baking,
which is only meant to give them a certain consistence or
hardness. And, lastly, they are covered with an enamel
or glazing, which is done by putting upon the vessels thus
prepared the enamel, which has been ground very fine,
and diluted with water.
As vessels to which the enamel is applied are but slight¬
ly baked, they readily imbibe the water in which the ena¬
mel is suspended, and a layer of the enamel adheres to
their surface. These vessels may then be painted with
colours composed of metallic calces, mixed and ground
with a fusible glass. When they have become perfectly
dry, they are placed in the furnace, included in cases of baked
earth called seggers, and exposed to a heat capable of fus¬
ing uniformly the enamel which covers them. This heat
applied to fuse the enamel being much stronger than that
which was applied at first to give some consistence to the
ware, is also the heat necessary to complete the baking
thereof. The furnace and colours used for painting this
ware are the same as those employed for porcelain. The
glazing, which is nothing but white enamel, ought to be so
opaque as not to show the ware under it. There are many
receipts for making these enamels; but all of them are
composed of sand or flints, vitrifying salts, calx of lead,
and calx of tin ; and the sand must be perfectly vitri¬
fied, so as to form a glass considerably fusible. Some¬
what less than an equal part of alkaline salt, or twice its
weight of calx of lead, is requisite to effect such vitrifi¬
cations of sand. The calx of tin is not intended to be
vitrified, but to give a white opaque colour to the mass ;
and one part of it is added to three or four parts of all the
other ingredients taken together. From these general
principles various enamels may be made to suit the differ¬
ent kinds of earths. To make the enamel, lead and tin
are calcined together with a strong fire ; and the sand is
also made into a fritt with the salt or ashes. The whole
is then well mixed and ground together, and the matter
is placed under the furnace, where it is melted and vitri¬
fied during the baking of the ware. It is next ground in
a mill, and applied as above directed.
The preparation of the white enamel is a very essential
article in making delft ware, and one in which many art¬
ists fail. A French writer, in a memoir concerning this
kind of ware, recommends the following proportions, name¬
ly, a hundred pounds of calx of lead to be mixed with about
a seventh part of that quantity of calx of tin for common
delft ware, or a fourth part of calx of tin for the finest
kind, a hundred or a hundred and ten pounds of fine
sand, and about twenty or thirty pounds of sea-salt. Con¬
cerning the earth of which the ware is made, he observes,
that pure clay is not a proper material when used alone ;
and that different kinds of earth mixed together are found
to succeed better. Pieces of ware made of clay alone are
found to require too much time to dry ; and they, besides,
crack, and lose their form, unless they are made exceeding¬
ly thick. An addition of marl diminishes the contraction
of the clay, renders it less compact, and allows the water
DEL 683
to escape, without altering the form of the ware in drying; Delfzyl
and it also affords a better ground for the enamel, which II
appears glossy and white than when laid upon clay Delhi-
alone. The kinds of clay which are chiefly used in the
composition of delft ware, are the blue and the green. A
mixture of blue clay and marl would not be sufficiently
solid, and would be apt to scale, unless it were exposed to
a fire more intense than that which is commonly used for
the burning of delft-ware. But to give greater solidity,
there is added some red clay, which, on account of its fer¬
ruginous matter, possesses the requisite binding quality.
The proportions of these ingredients vary in" different
works, according to the different qualities of the earths
employed. Three parts of blue clay, two parts of red
clay, and five parts of marl, form the composition used in
several manufactories. M. d'Antic thinks that the best
delft ware might be made of equal parts of pure clay and
pure calcareous earth ; but this composition would require
that the fire should be continued twice as long as it ge¬
nerally is.
DELFZYL, a fortified city of the province Groningen,
in the Netherlands. It stands at the junction of the Fi-
yel with the Ems, contains 3103 inhabitants, and has con¬
siderable trade, and extensive occupation in fishing.
DELHI, an extensive province of Hindustan, situated
principally between the twenty-eighth and thirty-first de¬
grees of north latitude. To the north it is bounded by
Lahore and Northern Hindustan west of the Goggra, to
the south by Agra and Ajmeer, on the east it has Oude
and Northern Hindustan, and on the west Ajmeer and
Lahore. It may be estimated at 240 miles in length by
180 in average breadth.
The principal modern geographical and political sub¬
divisions are,
1. The assigned territories,
2. The district of Bareilly,
3. The district of Mirabaut,
4. The district of Shahjehanpoor,
5. The jaghire of Rampoor,
6. The district of North Saharanpoor.
7. The district of South Saharanpoor.
8. Hurrianah.
9. Sirhind.
10. Patealah and various petty Sikk states.
The greater part of this province, especially the western
portion of it, named the Plurrianah, suffers greatly during
the hot season from the want of water, which can only be
procured from wells dug in many cases to the depth of from
120 to 150 feet. The country is an extensive plain, free
from jungle-; but owing to the depth to which the ground
must be penetrated for water, it has no artificial means
of irrigation, and farther west this difficulty increases.
The best cultivated part of this portion of the province is
the country on the banks of the Cauggar or Goggur river,
which being overflowed during the rainy season, yields
good pasture, and produces wheat, barley, and sugar cane.
It unfortunately happens that the Jumna, which runs
through the province, and regularly overflows its banks, is
in the lower part of its course so impregnated with natron
that it confers no fertility on the adjacent country between
its high banks, which is covered with a loose and perfect¬
ly barren sand like that of the sea-shore. In ancient
times a celebrated aqueduct, constructed in the first in¬
stance by a Persian nobleman, and further enlarged and
improved with branches and water-courses by Ferose III.
in 1308, was conducted from the Jumna immediately on
its leaving the mountains, and whilst its stream is yet pure
and wholesome, for a distance of 120 miles through the
country. It was a noble work, which gave fertility to a large
district along its banks, and was the sole source of vege-
formerly Rohil-
cund.
684
DELHI.
Delhi, tation in the gardens of Delhi, besides furnishing the in-
habitants with the only drinkable water within their reach.
This aqueduct, which, from indolence, neglect, and the
devastations of intestine war to which this province was
long exposed, had been allowed to go entirely into disre¬
pair, was re-opened by the British government in 1820, to
the great joy of the inhabitants of Delhi, who went out in
jubilee to meet its stream, throwing flowers, ghee, and
other things into the water, and calling down all manner
of blessings on the British government, “ who,” says He-
ber, “ have indeed gone far, by this measure, to redeem
themselves from the weight of, I fear, a good deal of im¬
policy.” The supply of water derived from this aqueduct
enables the inhabitants in a large tract of country to have
•recourse to irrigation, and thus to render the soil produc¬
tive. In 1822 Zabeta Khan’s or the Great Doab Canal,
which passes through Saharanpore, Rampoor, Shamlee,
and.other towns of note, was surveyed. This canal is con¬
nected with the Jumna a few miles below where it issues
from the mountains, and after a course of 150 miles again
joins that river nearly opposite to Delhi, fertilizing an ex¬
tensive tract of country formerly rich and populous, but
latterly sterile and waste. The eastern parts of Delhi,
namely, Rohilcund, including the districts of Moradabad
and Bareilly, are better watered and more fertile. The
principal rivers are the Ganges and the Ramgunga; the
latter traversing Rohilcund in nearly its whole extent,
and uniting with the Ganges near Kanoje. The Goggra
or Sarjou passes the north-east corner; and there are,
besides, many smaller rivers issuing from the northern
mountains, which conduce to the fertility of the soil, being
distributed by means of canals and reservoirs: water is
also found here by digging a few feet into the ground.
Throughout the whole extent of this country the surface
is flat, being part of the great plain reaching from the
northern hills to the sea, through which flow the Ganges
and its innumerable tributary streams. Several of the
mountain streams, as the Sarda, the Kurnal, and the Cou-
riallah, roll down gold, which is found in their sands, and
is collected by a particular caste of people. The Kosilu
river, in Bareilly, is navigable during the rains, and serves
sx i i . l - 1 o n fl fTV n 1 n n Df*
to float down large timber. Sugar, cotton, and grain are
the chief products of the eastern parts of Delhi. Prior
to 1809 these districts were annoyed by formidable bands
of gang-robbers, who were in such force that they kept
at bay the ordinary police establishments of the country.
These depredators had acquired such a perfect know¬
ledge of the intricate jungles and numerous fords of the
Ganges, that they were enabled to cross and return as
often as they pleased, and so intimidated the inhabitants
that the latter could not be brought to act against them.
By the great exertions of the British magistrates, how¬
ever, these bands, with their leaders, have been nearly
exterminated. Many of those who formerly subsisted by
^ang-robbery have been induced to cultivate the ground,
and^to live peaceably, whilst the force stationed along the
frontier prevents the Bhurtpoor marauders from renew-
ino- their depredations so often as they formerly used to
do^ Highway robberies do sometimes still occur, how¬
ever, and are generally attended with murder; but on
the whole the amendment has been great and visible ; so
that a European under ordinary circumstances may travel
in safety through any part of the province.
Many parts of this province have been the scene of civil
strife and of foreign war, and have been exposed to ge¬
neral devastation and misery. In 1774 the Rohillas were
entirely defeated by the British, and their countiy given
up to waste and plunder. Jracts formerly undei cultiva¬
tion are now converted into extensive wastes covered with
long grass, which in the hot season is easily inflamed, and
abounds with foxes, jackals, hogs, hares, and every sort of Delhi
game, which ranges over these plains unmolested. The v-'v\
country was afterwards exposed to the exactions of the
nabob of Oude’s servants; and from this period may be
dated the decline of agriculture, commerce, and manufac¬
tures. In 1782 and 1785 it was again plundered by the
Sikks, which gave the finishing blow to its prosperity. The
country has made advances under the administration of
the British, having enjoyed domestic tranquillity, but it
has by no means attained to its ancient prosperity; and
the policy of the East India Company, which increases the
land assessment with the progress of cultivation, tends to
repress the spirit of improvement. The staple commer¬
cial articles in Rohilcund are cotton cloths and sugar, to
which the raw material of cotton has recently been added.
In the district of Bareilly a species of rice is cultivated
of an excellent flavour, and superior to the finest sort of
what is called Patna rice ; the sugar produced is reckon¬
ed superior to that of any other part of Hindustan; and
in remote times the sugar-cane was cultivated to a great
extent. The articles of trade brought from the hills con¬
sist of borax, bees-wax, musk, gums, drugs of various kinds,
cow-tails, copper and iron, and small quantities of unrefin¬
ed gold. The returns are made in white cloths, tobacco,
and sugar. There are extensive forests at the foot of the
hills, which abound with the tree which yields the kut,
an article of general consumption along with the betel,
and which is also used in dying.. These hills contain also
copper and iron, which the natives collect either on the
surface or after very slight excavations. Salt is imported
into Rohilcund in great quantities. Many labourers find
employment in cutting down the wood of the forests.
Bamboos and various other sorts of trees abound; also
large pine trees ninety feet in height, which are floated
down the rivers for sale. Elephants are caught below the
hills, and form an article of trade. The soil here is fertile,
and produces grain, sugar, cotton, indigo, and tobacco.
In summer, notwithstanding the northern latitude of this
province, the heat is intense ; whilst in the winter the wind
that blows from the northern mountains causes the ther¬
mometer to fall during the winter months to thirty de¬
crees, and wrater freezes in the tents.
The country to the north-west of tiie Jumna and south
of the Suttledge is occupied by a number of petty Sikk
chiefs and other native princes in dependence on the Bri¬
tish. This country was formerly a scene of constant strife,
but is now maintained in tolerable order by a British de¬
tachment stationed at Ludeeana on the Suttledge.
The principal towns in the province are Delhi, Sirhmd,
Saharanpoor, Bareilly, Anopshehr, Meerut, Hissar, Seerd-
huna, Patealah, and Budayoon. The inhabitants are a
handsome and robust race of men, and are a mixture of
Hindus, Mahommedans, and Sikks, the religion of the
latter being very prevalent in the northern districts. Ihe
population of the province may be estimated at five mil¬
lions. , „ , ,
Delhi, a celebrated city, capital of the above pro¬
vince, and for many years the capital of the Patan an
Mogul empires, situated on the banks of the Jumna.
During the era of its splendour it is said to have occupied
a space of twenty miles round ; and its great extent is still
attested by the ruins, which cover a vast surface.. e
inhabited part of the town is about seven miles in circuit;
it is seated on a range of rocky hills, and is surrounde
by an embattled wall, which the English government have
J . . .   A hactmns. U
put into repair, and have strengthened with bastions, a
moat, and a regular glacis. The city has seven ga e ,
namely, the Lahore gate, the Ajmeer gate>
gate, Delhi gate, Mohur gate, Cabul gate, and Cashme
gate ; all built of freestone. The houses within the wall*
DELHI.
685
are many of them large and high. The streets are in ge¬
neral narrow, with the exception of two ; the first leading
from the palace to the Delhi gate, which had formerly an
aqueduct along its whole extent; and the second from the
palace to the Lahore gate. These are really wide, hand¬
some, and, for an Asiatic city, remarkably cleanly. The
breadth of the first may be about equal to that of Pall-
Mall, and is called Chandnee Chokee, or Silversmiths’
Street, though there is no great number of that trade in
it. The city is partitioned into thirty-six divisions, each
named after a particular nobleman who resides there, or
from some local circumstance. It contains a great num¬
ber of mosques, with high minarets and gilded domes, and
the remains of many splendid palaces belonging to the
great omrahs of the empire. They are all surrounded with
high walls, and occupy a considerable space of ground, as
they comprehend gardens, baths, stables for all sorts of
animals, and music galleries, besides an extensive seraglio.
Above all is seen the imperial palace, a very high and ex¬
tensive cluster of Gothic towers and battlements. It was
built by Shah Jehan, on the west bank of the Jumna, and is
surrounded on three sides by an embattled wall sixty feet
high, built of red granite, with small round towers, and
two noble gateways, each defended by an outer barbican of
the same construction, though of less height, and the whole
surrounded by a wide moat. It is a place of no strength ;
but, “ as a kingly residence,” says Heber, “ it is one of the
noblest that I have seen. It far surpasses the Kremlin;
but I do not think that, except in the durability of its ma¬
terials, it equals Windsor.” Adjoining to it is the fortress
of Selknghur, now in ruins. The gardens of Shalimar
were made by the Emperor Shah Jehan, and are said to
have cost one million sterling; but, like his other works,
they are now in ruins. ’They are surrounded by a brick
wall, and were about a mile in circumference.
There are many fine mosques in Delhi, still in good re¬
pair, the chief of which are the Jumna Musjeed and the
Kala Musjeed. The former is advantageously elevated on a
small rocky eminence to the full height of the surrounding
houses. It was begun by Shah Jehan in the fourth year
of his reign, and was completed in the tenth. In front it
has a large square court, surrounded by a cloister open on
both sides. It is paved with granite inlaid with marble,
and commands a view of the whole city. In the centre
is a great marble reservoir of water, with some small foun¬
tains supplied by machinery from the canal. On its west
side, and rising at another flight of steps, is the mosque
itself, which is entered by three noble Gothic arches, sur¬
mounted by three domes of white marble. It has at each
end a very tall minaret. “ The ornaments,” says Heber,
“ are less florid, and the building less picturesque, than
the splendid group of the Imambora and its accompani¬
ments at Lucknow; but the situation is far more command¬
ing and Bishop Heber was more impressed with the size,
the solidity, and rich materials of this building, than with
any thing of the sort which he had seen in India. By the
liberality of the British rulers, it is kept in excellent re¬
pair, a grant having been made for this purpose, which has
rendered them exceedingly popular. The Kala Musjeed
is small, and is chiefly worthy of notice from its plainness,
solidity, and great antiquity, being a work of the first
Patan conquerors in the times of primitive Mussulman
simplicity. Not far from the palace is the pretty little
mosque of Roshun ud Dowlah, with its three gilt domes, on
the porch of which it is said that, in 1739, Nadir Shah sat to
witness the massacre of the unfortunate inhabitants by his
licentious soldiery; and a gate leading to a bazar near it
retains the name of “ Coonia Durwazu,’ or the Slaughter
Gate. There are, besides, about forty other mosques, but
of an inferior size. The tombs of the imperial family at
Delhi have several of them the most splendid architec- Delhi,
tural ornaments. That of Humaioon, the second of the
Mogul dynasty who reigned over Hindustan, is a noble
building of granite, inlaid with marble, and in a very
simple style of Gothic architecture. It is surrounded
by a large garden with terraces and fountains; and the
garden itself is surrounded by an embattled wall with
towers, four gateways, and a cloister within all the way
round. In the centre of the square is a platform of about
twenty feet high and two hundred feet square, supported
by cloisters, and ascended by four great flights of granite
steps. Above rises the tomb, also a square, with a great
dome of white marble in its centre. The apartments with¬
in are a circular room, in the centre of which lies, under a
small raised slab, the mortal remains of the prince ; and in
the angles are smaller apartments, where other branches
of his family are interred. About a mile westward is
another burying-ground, or collection of tombs and small
mosques, some of them very beautiful. The most remark¬
able is a little chapel in honour of a celebrated Mussul¬
man saint Nizam ud Deen ; and around his shrine most of
the deceased members of the present imperial family lie
buried, all in their own little enclosures, surrounded by
very elegant lattice work of white marble. From the gate
of Agra to Humaioon’s tomb is a very awful scene of desola¬
tion ; “ ruins after ruins,” says Bishop Heber, “ tombs after
tombs, fragments of brick-work, freestone, granite, and
marble, scattered everywhere over a soil naturally rocky
and barren, without cultivation except in one or two small
spots, and without a single tree.” Amongst these ruins is
to be seen one mass which is larger than the rest. This
is the old Patan palace, which was a large and solid for¬
tress, in a plain and unornamented style, and chiefly re¬
markable for a high black pillar of cast metal, called Fi-
rose’s Walking Stick, a Hindu emblem of Siva, as is sup¬
posed, concerning which there is a tradition, that, whilst it
stood, the children of Brahma were to bear rule in Indra-
put, the name of the Hindu city which preceded Delhi.
The vanity of the prediction appeared when the country
was conquered. The pillar is covered with inscriptions,
mostly in Persian and Arabic; but that which probably con¬
tains the prophecy is in a character obsolete and unknown,
a sure mark of its high antiquity.
Delhi has fallen from its ancient splendour; the fine
manufactures of which it was formerly the seat are great¬
ly declined, and the commerce, for so large a place, is in¬
considerable. Cotton cloths and indigo are still manufac¬
tured in the town and neighbourhood; there is also a shawl
manufactory carried on by Cashmerian weavers with wool
brought from the Himalaya. Jewellery is executed in
great perfection. The chief imports are by the northern
caravans, which amount to nine annually, and bring from
Cashmere and Cabul shawls, fruit, and horses.
The ruins which surround the present town mark the
site of old Delhi, which was founded on the ruins of the
still larger Hindu city of Indraput towards the west. This
city was taken in 1193 by the Mahommedans under Cut-
tubaddeen Khan, who fixed his residence there, and, upon
his succeeding to the throne, made it his capital. It was
increased and improved, until, under the Afghan monarchs,
Agra w'as made the capital, which continued to be the
seat of empire till the return of Humaioon from Persia in
1554. During the reigns of Akbar and Jehangire, Delhi
was deserted, but was restored to its ancient splendour by
the Emperor Shah Jehan, who founded the present city,
and removed to it many ol its inhabitants; the others fol¬
lowed, to be near the palace and the principal markets;
and as, during the disorders of the Mahratta government,
it was unsafe to remain without the walls, the old city was
soon entirely abandoned.
686
Delia
(l
Delille.
DEL
DEL
Delhi is the residence of the Great Mogul, the repre¬
sentative of the house of Timour, now reduced to a very
low ebb by the political revolutions which have taken place
in India. He has been honourably treated by the English,
who assigned him an annual pension of ten, twelve, and
ultimately of fifteen lacs of rupees for his subsistence, and
who treat him with all the outward homage of royalty,
acknowledging him as the sovereign of the country, and
themselves as his tributaries. Delhi, when it was formerly
under the dominion of the Mahrattas, was frequently t le
scene of disorder and bloodshed; but since it has come
under the dominion of the British, and tranquillity has been
maintained in the country, it has been increasing in popu¬
lation, and property of all descriptions has been rising in
value, especially houses and lands, which are more than
doubled. The travelling distance from Calcutta by Eir-
bhoom is 976 miles. , , , j cki,
DELIA, in Antiquity, a festival celebrated every htm
year in the island of Delos, in honour of Apollo. It was
first instituted by Theseus, who on his return from Crete
placed at Delos a statue which he had received from
Ariadne. At the celebration they crowned the statue of
the god with garlands, appointed a choir of music, and
exhibited horse races. They afterwards led a dance, in
which they imitated by their motions the various wind¬
ings of the Cretan labyrinth, from which Theseus had ex¬
tricated himself with Ariadne’s assistance. There was an¬
other festival of the same name yearly celebrated by the
Athenians at Delos, and also instituted by Theseus, who,
when going to Crete, made a vow that if he returned vic¬
torious, he would yearly visit in a solemn manner the temple
of Delos. The persons employed in this annual proces¬
sion were called and Theori; and the ship which
had carried Theseus, and had been carefully preserved by
the Athenians, was called Theoria and Delias. During
this festival it was unlawful to put to death any malefac¬
tor, and on that account the life of Socrates was prolonged
for thirty days. '
Delia, a surname of Diana, because she was supposed
to have been born in Delos.
DELIACAL Problem, a celebrated problem among
the ancients, concerning the duplication of the cube.
DELIBAMENTA, in Antiquity, a libation to the infer¬
nal gods, always offered by pouring downwards.
DELIBERATIVE, an appellation given to a branch of
rhetoric, employed in proving a proposition, or in convin¬
cing an assembly that it ought to be put in execution.
To have a deliberative voice in an assembly is to have
a right to give one’s advice and vote therein. In councils
the bishops have deliberative voices; but those beneath
them have only consultative voices.
DELILLE, Jacques, early acquired deserved celebri¬
ty as the founder of a new school in French poetry, but
unfortunately his ambition extended with his fame, till he
left behind him as many didactic poems as Sir Richard
Blackmore has epics, and we suspect the greater number
of them are already almost as little known. The author
of the Jardins, indeed, will always hold his rank among
poets ; but it would have been no great misfortune to his
memory if he had written little more.
He was born on the 22d of June 1738, in the neighbour¬
hood of Clermont, in Auvergne. His father was a man of
neither fortune nor family; but he was connected by his
mother with that of the Chancellor de I’Hopital. With
very slender means of support, he was educated at Paris,
and made such progress in his studies as augured well
for his future distinction. When his education was com¬
pleted, he was forced to accept of a very low situation as
teacher in the College of Beauvais; but this was soon
exchanged for the more honourable station of professor ot
humanity at Amiens. After returning to Paris, where Deli],
he likewise obtained a professorship, be speedily acquired ^-7
a considerable poetical name, and was encouraged, by the
younger Racine, to give to the world a translation of the
Georgies of Virgil, which he had begun at Amiens. This
translation vras a bold attempt for a French poet. The
muses of that nation were but little conversant with a
country life. They had been reared in courts, and seemed
incapable of assuming any other tone than that declama¬
tory one in which kings and princesses might be suppos¬
ed, however erroneously, to give utterance to their tragic
woes, or that elegant and complimentary style in which the
interests, the intrigues, and the morality of polite life, find
a much truer and more adequate expression. Racine and
Boileau, in a word, had fixed the poetry of their nation
within the limits which they had prescribed for it; it was
perfect in its kind, and this made it appear still more
hopeless to attempt to extend it further. Voltaire, indeed,
had given a wider compass to the language of tragedy; in
his spirit of universal dominion, he had attempted the epic,
but had failed. He was more successful in transfusing
into the guarded regularity of French poetry some of the
wilder graces and eccentricities of the Italian; but even
he would have shrunk from the unprecedented audacity of
walking his courtly muse over a ploughed field, or bringing
her within the steam of a dunghill. We are told, accord¬
ingly, that he was greatly struck with the enterprise and the
success of Delille; and that, without any personal acquain¬
tance with the poet, he, of his own accord, recommended
him and his work to the good graces of the academy. It
was not, however, till some years afterwards that Delille be¬
came a member of that celebrated body. He now aimed
at a higher distinction than even a finished translation of
the most finished poem in the world could confer upon
him ; and in the Jardins, which he published a few years
after his reception into the academy, he made good his pre¬
tensions as an original poet. The mantle of the Roman
bard still, indeed, seemed to enfold him ; and, if we can
pardon a few French prettinesses, there is no didactic
poem in any language, we believe, which approaches so
closely to the polish, the grace, and the tenderness of Vir¬
gil, as the Jardins of Delille.
It is an unfortunate thing for a poet to become too am¬
bitious, especially if his former success renders him inat¬
tentive to the steps by which he was conducted to fame.
After his Georgies had put him at the head of the poets
of his country, Virgil, in obedience to the calls of grati¬
tude and of patriotism, rather than of ambition, ventured
upon his grand national epic; an arduous effort even for
him. Yet by never losing sight for a moment of his own
strength and his own weakness, he has been enabled (al¬
though his heart never seems to have gone along with it,
and he was at last, as is well known, quite dissatisfied with
his own work) to complete an undertaking which, in the
judgment of posterity, has for ever encircled his modest
brows with a glory, second only to that which beams from
the divinity of Homer. His French disciple, who seemed
for a time to be humbly treading in his steps, wanted, how¬
ever, the composure of a Roman head. After the success
of his Jardins, Delille appears to have forgotten where the
strength of his own genius lay; that he was nothing at all
if he was not cautious, select, elegant, and pathetic; that
the world did not expect to be deluged by his poetry, bu
to be refreshed by its gentle and winding streams; that
there was no necessity, in a word, for his writing a grea
deal, but the very greatest for his continuing to write ini¬
mitably well. The subject upon which he next laboured
was an unhappy one. Without any great portion ot Ima¬
gination of his own, he projected a poem on that vague
and indeterminate theme. He sets out, according y, a
DEL
9. pitch which he cannot keep up ; he then loses himself in
^ indistinct metaphysics; and the want of any limit to his
subject tempts him into a wandering and interminable
style of composition, which is at complete variance with
every thing like point, polish, and elegance. Before
he had gone far in the composition of this poem, which
was not, indeed, published till after many of his other
works, he made a voyage to Constantinople in the train of
the ambassador M. de Choiseul Gouffier. He did not lose
this opportunity of visiting Attica and the Troad, and we
might have hoped that some glowing sketches of scenes
so inspiring to a poet would have relieved the heaviness of
his Imagination. But the following is the only passage in
all that long poem which pretends to catch any portion of
their divine influence.
Lorsque de I’univers I’aimable enchanteresse,
L’imagination, me porta dans la Grece,
Je ne m’aftendais pas qu’un jour mes propres yeux
Yerraient ces belles mers, ces beaux champs, ces beaux cieux ;
Je les ai vus! Mon coeur a tressailli de joie :
Homere m’a guide dans les champs oil fut Troie.
Pour moi, ses vers divins peuplaient ces lieux deserts,
Et ces lieux, a leur tour, m’embellissaient ses vers.
Un delire charmant, qu’il m’inspirait sans doute,
D’enchantements sans nombre avait seme ma route;
Je ne demandais plus, pour traverser les dots
Ni les secours des vents, ni Part des matelots ;
Jedisaisaux Tritons, aux jeunes Nerdides,
Be pousser mon vaisseau sur les plaines humides.
Tout k coup sur ces mers, a mes yeux s’est montre
Un stupidc Pacha, d’esclaves entoure';
'Tout s’est de'senchantd, &c.
In spite of this tremendous pasha, whose stupidity ap¬
pears to have been somewhat infectious, our poet, whilst
he resided at Constantinople, was almost in the daily habit
of passing over to the coast of Asia, and studying his
poem amidst the inspirations of its splendid scenery. Yet
we cannot be persuaded that his enthusiasm, amidst these
classical regions, was very profound or genuine, if it be
true that he stated it as one of his greatest enjoyments,
while resident amongst them, that he could go every day to
breakfast in Asia, and come back again to dine in Europe.
On his return to Paris he prelected, in his capacity of
professor, on the Latin poets, and was attended by a nu¬
merous audience, who were delighted, not only with his
critical observations, but with his beautiful recitation. He
indulged them, too, with his own verses; and in this way,
we believe, the choice morceaux of his poem on Imagina¬
tion were familiar to the public long before it came into
their hands. Delille continued to advance in fame and
fortune, though without hazarding any more publications,
till the period of the Revolution, when he was reduced to
poverty, and sheltered himself in retreat from the disas¬
ters which surrounded him. He quitted Paris, and retir¬
ed to St Diez, the native place of Madame Delille; and
here he completed, in deep solitude, his translation of the
iEneid, which he had begun many years before. A resi¬
dence in France, however, soon became very undesirable,
and he emigrated first to Bale, and then to Glairesse in
i Switzerland, a charming village on the lake of Bienne, oppo¬
site Rousseau’s island of St Pierre. Much delighted with
this enchanting country, and with the reception which he
met from its inhabitants, he occupied himself constantly
in the composition of poetry, and here finished his Homme
des Champs, and his poem on the Trois I&gnes de la Na¬
ture. We have censured Delille for writing too much;
but an excuse may be found for him in the horrors of the
times, and the necessity of some object to interest his
mind, and relieve it from the oppression of his misfortunes.
He would probably have adopted a course more favour¬
able to his fame, had not the revolution sent him adrift
DEL
upon the world. His next place of refuge was in Ger-
many, where he composed his La Pitie; and finally, he
passed two years in London, chiefly employed in translat-
ing Paradise Lost. In 1801, finding that he might return
safely to Paris, he did so, carrying with him his immense
Poetical Lncyclopmdia, and from that time he sent poem
after poem into the world, till at last he himself quitted
it on the first of May 1813, at the age of seventy-five. In
his latter years he had lost, in a great degree, his sight,
which gave him an opportunity of opening one of the can¬
tos of his Imagination with an imitation of that noble pas¬
sage in which our sublime poet laments a similar misfor¬
tune.
687
Delille.
Voila que le printemps reverdit les coteaux,
Des chaines de 1’hiver degage les ruisseaux,
llend leur feuillage aux bois, ses rayons a 1’aurore ;
Tout renait; pour moi seul rien ne renait encore.
Delille appears to have been a person of a very amiable
and simple character ; his conversation full of a child-like
gaiety; his writings always moral and pious. He was a
man, too, of courage and firmness. In his voyage to At¬
tica his little vessel was pursued by pirates, and very near¬
ly overtaken. All on board were in consternation. The
poet very coolly observed, “ These rascals are not aware
that I shall make them very ridiculous in an epigram.”
A finer instance of his resolution occurred during the ty¬
ranny of Robespierre. That wretch ordered him to com¬
pose a hymn on occasion of an impious fete, which Delille
refused to do, and replied to the threats which were made
him, Que la guillotine etait fort commode, et fort expeditive.
Being still urged to comply, he did write an ode, in which
he took occasion to paint (a theme we may believe not
very agreeable to the heroes of the Revolution) the ter¬
rors which immortality held out to the guilty, and its con¬
solations to the virtuous under misfortune. This was very
noble; but, wearied out afterwards by his long banish¬
ment, he does not appear to have been equally sturdy
when he put forth his poem of La Pitie, on his return to
Paris. Unfortunately he had already given it to the Lon¬
don booksellers; and, in their edition, there were various
attacks on the proceedings of Napoleon, and expressions
of great devotion to the exiled family. But when he found
himself under the consular government, he made consider¬
able alterations on his poem. It was published in Paris
about the same time that it appeared in London; and,
like the statue with two faces, it was quite a different
thing, according to the side of the channel on which it
was contemplated. On a general estimate of the genius
of Delille, we must consider him as a poet of much refine¬
ment and delicacy, but of no great power or stamina.
Upon the pleasing subject of rural life he dilates with
great beauty and felicity. There are, too, throughout his
poems, very splendid descriptions of all kinds; but he
weakens them constantly by diffusion ; and there is very
little art or elegance in his connections or transitions. He
set out well, but he afterwards attempted more than he
could accomplish. It is a pity that he was able to read any
language but French and Latin, or that he should have
ever wandered beyond the precincts of nature and of Vir¬
gil. It has occurred to us in reading Delille, that, with
all his beauty of versification, and occasional felicity of
expression, he yet shows, in his latter works especially, a
great ignorance of the line of distinction between prose
and poetry. This is a curious subject of discussion ; and
we know not that it has ever been accurately examined.
There may be very eloquent and very animated prose,
which yet, if versified, would make but indifferent poetry.
Delille very nearly versifies some of the pathetic passages
in Rosseau’s Heloise; but in his hands they are any thing
but poetical. On the other hand, there are poems and sub-
688
DEL
DEL
Deliques- jects which are more naturally treated in prose, but which,
cence the art of the poet, acquire the character of poetry.
It The satires of Horace, which he himself calls sermoni
Dehtzsch.Dryden’s Religio Laid, and still more the
Epistles of Pope and Boileau, have all, doubtless, a poeti¬
cal character, although there is in them no passion, and
very little imagery. Didactic poetry, in general, is an in¬
vasion upon the precincts of prose composition; but how
wonderfully have some poets invested it with the attri¬
butes of the highest inspiration ! One half of Lucretius
is mere reasoning, yet even in his reasonings we discern
the poet. There is the animation, the diction, the rapidity
of poetry; and that overflowing of mind with which he is
constantly breaking out of his reasonings, and running into
the most brilliant conceptions and pictures, is its very soul.
Virgil, too, in his Georgies, is poetical from beginning to
end? No man who ever wrote seems to have seen more dis¬
tinctly than this great master what it is that peculiarly con-
stftutes poetry, or to have been so capable of diffusing it over
the most unpromising parts of his subject. Perhaps the
charm consists very much in selection. A prose writer ac¬
cumulates image upon image when he wishes to make a
forcible impression; but translate these in to verse, and some
of them will appear insignificant, some of them low, and
the quantity of them tedious. This is often the effect of
Delille’s descriptions. A poet like Virgil, again, fixes upon
some one striking feature of the conception which he wish¬
es to impress—some thought that breathes, and word that
burns ; and giving us these, he not only gives us the image
which he expresses, but the full force of many kindred
images which are kept behind, yet which our imagina¬
tions, when thus seized, can easily body out for them¬
selves.
Delille has left behind him little prose. His preface to
the translation of the Georgies is an able essay, and con¬
tains many excellent hints on the art and the difficulties
of translation. He wrote the article La Sruyere in the
Biographic TJniverselle. The following is the list of his
poetical works : 1. Les Georgiques de Virgile, traduites en
vers Franqaises, Paris, 1769, 1782, 1785, 1809. 2. Les
Jardins, enquatre chants, 1780; nouvelle edition, Londres,
1800; Paris, 1802. 3. LHommes des Champs, ou les
Georgiques Francoises, 1800. 4. Poesies Fugitives, 1802.
A collection given under the title of Poesies Diverses, 1801,
was disavowed by Delille. 5. Dithyrambe sur l Immor-
talite de I'Ame, suivi du passage du Saint Gothard; poeme
traduit de f Anglais de Madame la Duchesse de Devon¬
shire, 1802. 6^ La Pitie ; poeme en quatre chants. Lon¬
dres et Paris, 1803. 7. LEneide de Virgile, traduite en
vers Francoises, 1805. 9. FImagination, poeme en huit
chants, 1806. 10. Les Trois Regnes de la Nature, 1809.
11. La Conversation, 1812.
DELIQUESCENCE, in Chemistry, signifies the pro¬
perty which certain bodies have of attracting moisture
from the air, and thereby becoming liquid.
DELIQUIUM, or Deliquium Animi (from delinquo,
to swoon), a swooning or fainting away; called also syn¬
cope, lipothymia, lipopsychia, eclysis, and asphyxia.
Deliquium (from deliquesco, to dissolve), in Chemistry,
is the dissolution or melting of a salt by suspending it in
a moist cellar. Salt of tartar, or any fixed alkali, placed
in a cellar or other cool and moist situation, and in an
open vessel, resolves or runs into a kind of liquor called by
the older chemists oil of tartar per deliquium.
DELIRIUM (from deliro, to rave or talk idly). When
the ideas excited in the mind do not correspond with
external objects, but are produced by the change induced
on the sensorium, the patient is said to be delirious.
DELITZSCH, a circle in the Prussian province of Sax-
pny, extending over 308 square miles, or 197,120 English
acres, comprehending three cities or towns and 174 vil- Dellat
lages, with 34,514 inhabitants. The capital, of the same cotta
name, on the Lober, is a fortified town, containing 499 II
houses and 2953 inhabitants. ^e^'
DELLAMCOTTA, a fortress of Northern Hindustan, ^r'
in the province of Bootan. It is situated on a range of
lofty mountains, which rises about a mile and a half above
the plains of Bengal, and commands the principal pass
into Bootan. It was stormed by the British troops in
1773, which so alarmed the Booteans that they petitioned
for peace. The fortress was then restored to them.
DELMENHORST, one of the circles into which the
duchy of Oldenburg, in Germany, is divided. It extends
over 380 square miles, and contains 28,460 inhabitants,
who subsist by agriculture. The chief town, of the same
name, is situated on the river Delme, and contains 242
houses, with 1510 inhabitants.
DELOS, an island of the Archipelago, famous in an¬
cient history. It is said to have been originally a floating
island; but afterwards it became fixed and immoveable.
It is held sacred on account of its being the birth-place
of Apollo and Diana. Anciently this island was governed
by its own kings. The Persians allowed the Delians to en¬
joy their ancient liberties, after they had reduced the rest
of the Grecian islands. In subsequent ages the Athenians
made themselves masters of Delos, and held it until they
were driven out by Mithridates the Great, who plundered
the rich temple of Apollo, and obliged the Delians to take
part with him. Mithridates was in his turn expelled by
the Romans, who granted the inhabitants many privileges,
and exempted them from all sorts of taxes, fetrabo and
Callimachus tell us that the island of Delos was watered
by the river Inapus; but Pliny calls it only a spring, and
adds, that its waters swelled and abated at the same time
with those of the Nile. At present there is no river in
the island, but one of the noblest springs in the world,
about twelve yards in diameter, and inclosed partly by
rocks and partly by a wall. Mount Cynthus, whence
Apollo had the surname of Cynthius, is by Strabo placed
near the city, and said to be so high, that the whole island
was covered by its shadow; but modern travellers speak
of it as a hill of very moderate height. On the top of the
mountain are still to be seen the remains of a stately build-
in", with a mosaic pavement, many broken pillars, and other
valuable monuments of antiquity, from an inscription
discovered there, which mentions a vow made to Serapis,
Isis, and Anubis, some have conjectured that on this hill
stood a temple dedicated to these Egyptian deities, though
it is nowhere mentioned in history. The city of Delos con¬
tained many noble and stately buildings, particularly the
temples of Apollo, Diana, and Latona; the porticoes ot
Philip of Macedon, and Dionysius Eutyches; a gymna¬
sium ; an oval basin formed at an immense expense, for the
representation of sea-fights; and a most magnificent thea¬
tre. The temple of Apollo was, according to Plutarch,
begun by Erysichthon, the son of Cycrops, but afterwards
enlarged and embellished at the common charge ot all
the states of Greece. Plutarch tells us that it was one
of the most stately buildings in the universe ; and speaks
of an altar therein, which, in his opinion, deserved a place
among the wonders of the world. It was built with the
horns of various animals, so artificially adapted to one
another that they hung together without any cemen .
This altar is said to have been a perfect cube; and the
doubling it was among the ancients a famous mathema¬
tical problem, which went under the name of Problema
Deliacum, and is said to have been proposed by the or -
cle for the purpose of freeing the country froin a plag •
So very sacred was the island of Delos held y e 1
cients, that no hostilities were practised there, even y
DEL
the nations who were at war with one another, when they
happened to meet in the island. Of this Livy gives an
instance. He mentions that some Roman deputies being
obliged to put in at Delos, in their voyage to Syria and
Egypt, found the galleys of Perseus, king of Macedonia,
and those of Eumenes, king of Pergamus, anchored in the
same harbour, though these two princes were then making
war upon each other. Hence this island was a general
asylum, and the protection extended to all kinds of living
creatures. No dead body was suffered to be buried in i£
nor was any woman allowed to lie in there ; all dying per¬
sons, and women ready to be delivered, were carried over
to the neighbouring island of Rhenaea.
DELPHI, in Ancient Geography, a town of Phocis, si¬
tuated on the south-western extremity of Mount Parnas¬
sus. It was famous for the temple and oracle of Apollo,
the origin of which is ascribed to an accidental discovery.
A number of goats which were feeding on Mount Parnas¬
sus happened, it is said, to approach a place which had a
long and deep perforation. The vapour which issued
from the cavity seemed to inspire the goats, and they
played and frisked about in such an uncommon manner
that the goatherd was tempted to lean over the aperture,
in order to see what mysteries the place contained. But
he was immediately seized with a fit of enthusiasm ; his
expressions were wild and extravagant, and passed for pro¬
phecies. This circumstance soon became known through¬
out the country, and many experienced the same enthu¬
siastic inspiration. The place was revered; a temple was
soon afterwards erected in honour of Apollo; and a city
was built, which became the most illustrious in Phocis.
The influence of this oracle afterwards controlled the coun¬
cils of states, directed the course of armies, and decid¬
ed the fate of kingdoms. The ancient history of Greece
is full of its energy, and an early register of its authority.
The circumjacent cities were the stewards and guardians
of the god ; and their deputies composed the famous Am-
phictyonic assembly which once guided all Greece.
The temple of Apollo was at first a kind of cottage
covered with boughs of laurel; but the god was early pro¬
vided with a better habitation. An edifice of stone was
erected by Trophonius and Agamedes, and subsisted about
seven hundred years, but it was burned in die year 636
after the taking of Troy, and 548 before Christ. It is men¬
tioned in the hymn to Apollo ascribed to Homer. An
opulent and illustrious family, called Alcmaeonidae, having
fled from Athens and the tyrant Hippias, contracted with
the deputies for the building of a new temple, and far ex¬
ceeded their agreement. The front was* raised with Pa-i
rian marble, instead of the stone called porus, which re¬
sembled it in whiteness, but was not so heavy; the pedi¬
ments were adorned with representations of Diana, and
Latona, and Apollo, and the Muses, with the setting of
Phoebus or the sun, Bacchus, and the women called Ihy-
ades; and the architraves were decorated with golden ar¬
mour, with bucklers suspended by the Athenians after the
battle of Marathon, and with shields taken from the Gauls
under Brennus. In the portico were inscribed the celebrat¬
ed maxims of the seven sages of Greece. There was also an
image of Homer; and in the cell was an altar of Neptune,
with statues of the Fates, and of Jupiter and Apollo, who
were surnamed Leaders of the Fates. Near the hearth,
before the altar at which Neoptolemus, the son of Achilles,
was slain by a priest, stood the iron chair of Pindar. In
the sanctuary stood an image of Apollo. The enclosure
was of great extent, and filled with treasures, many cities
having consecrated tenths of the spoil taken in war, and
with the public donations of renowned states in various
ages. It was the grand repository of ancient Greece, in
which, by the labours of the sculptor and statuary, gods,
VOL. VII.
DEL 680
heroes, and illustrious persons, were seen collected and Delphi,
airanged; the inequalities of the area of acclivity contri- -v-'w'
uting to give a full display of the noble assemblage.
I le oracles were delivered by a priestess called the Py¬
thoness, who received the prophetic influence in the fol¬
lowing manner. A lofty tripod, decked with laurel, was
p aceo over the aperture whence the sacred vapour issued.
I ie priestess, after washing her body, and especially her
hair, in the cold water of Castalia, mounted on the stool
to receive the divine effluvia. She wore a crown of laurel
on her head, and shook a sacred tree which grew near the
aperture. Sometimes she chewed the leaves; and the
frenzy which followed may probably be attributed to this
usage, and the gentler or more violent symptoms to the
quantity taken. In one instance the paroxysm was so ter¬
rible that the priests and suppliants ran away, and left her
alone to expire, as was believed, of the god. Her part
was an unpleasant one; but if she declined acting, they
dragged her by force to the tripod. The habit of her
Older was that of virgins. The rules enjoined temperance
and chastity, and prohibited luxury in apparel. The sea¬
son of inquiry was in the spring; after which Apollo was
supposed to visit the altars of the Hyperboreans.
The city of Delphi arose in the form of an amphitheatre,
upon the winding declivity of Parnassus, the fantastic tops
of which overshadowed it like a canopy on the north,
whilst two immense rocks rendered it inaccessible on the
east and west, and the rugged and shapeless Mount Cirphis
defended it on the south. The foot of the last-named
mountain was washed by the rapid Plistus, which dis¬
charged itself into the sea at the distance of only a few
leagues from the sacred city. This inaccessible and ro¬
mantic situation, from which the place derived the name
of Delphi, a word signifying solitary, was rendered still
more striking by the innumerable echoes which multiplied
every sound, and increased the ignorant veneration of vi¬
sitants for the divinity of the oracle. The artful ministers
of Apollo also collected such objects in the groves and
temple as were fitted to astonish the senses of the admir¬
ing multitude. The splendour of marble, the magic of
painting, and invaluable statues of gold and silver, had
not, to use the language of antiquity, the resemblance of
an earthly habitation, but rather expressed the image of
Olympus, adorned and enlightened by the actual presence
of the gods.
The protection and superintendence of this precious de¬
pository of riches and superstition belonged to the Am-
phictyons. But the inhabitants of Delphi, who, if we may
use the expression, were the original proprietors of the
oracle, always continued to direct the religious ceremo¬
nies, and to conduct the important business of prophecy.
It was their province alone to determine at what time, and
on what occasion, the Pythia should mount the sacred tri¬
pod, in order to receive the prophetic exhalations by which
she communicated with Apollo. When overflowing with
the heavenly inspiration, she uttered the confused words, or
rather frantic sounds, irregularly suggested by the impulse
of the god; and these sounds the Delphians collected, re¬
duced them into order, animated them with sense, and
adorned them with harmony. The Pythia, being appointed
and dismissed at pleasure, was a mere instrument in the
hands of those artful ministers, whose character became so
venerable and sacred, that they were finally regarded, not
merely as attendants and worshippers, but as the peculiar
family of the divinity. Their number was considerable,
and never exactly ascertained, since all the principal in¬
habitants of Delphi, claiming an immediate relation to
Apollo, were entitled to officiate in the rites of his sanctu¬
ary ; and even the inferior ranks belonging to that sacred
city were continually employed in dances, festivals, and
090
Delphi
II
Deluge.
DEL
processions, and in displaying all the gay pageantry of an
airy and elegant superstition.
Delphi was conveniently situated for tne resort of vota¬
ries, being in the centre of Greece, and, as was then ima-
o-ined, also in that of the universe. It was customary for
those who consulted the oracle to make rich presents to the
<T0d. His servants and priests feasted upon the numerous
victims which were sacrificed to him; and the rich mag¬
nificence of his temple had become proverbial even in the
age of Homer. In after times, Croesus, the wealthiest ot
monarchs, was particularly munificent in his donations.
This sacred repository of opulence therefore often became
the obiect of plunder. Neoptolemus was slain whilst sacri¬
ficing, on suspicion of a design of this kind. _ Xerxes di¬
vided his army at Panopeus, and proceeded with the main
body through Boeotia into Attica, whilst a party keeping
Parnassus on the right, advanced along Schiste to Delphi;
but ft was seized with a panic when near Ilium, and tied.
This monarch, it is related, was as well apprised _oi the
contents of the temple, and the sumptuous offerings o
Halyattes and Croesus, as of the effects which he had left
behind him in his own palace. The divine hoard was seized
bv the Phocensians under Philomelus, and dissipated in a
lono- war with the Amphictyons. The Gauls experienced
a reception similar to that of the Persians, and manifested
similar dismay and superstition. Sylla, wanting money to
pay his army, sent to borrow from the holy treasury; and
when his messenger would have frightened him, by re¬
porting a prodigy, namely, that the sound of a harp had
been heard from within the sanctuary, the Roman replied,
it was a sign that the god was happy to oblige him.
The trade in oracles, after it had flourished for a long
period, was affected by the mal-practices of some concern¬
ed in the partnership, who were convicted of bribery and
corruption, which ruined the character of their principal.
The temple in the time of Strabo was reduced to extreme
poverty; but the offerings which remained were very nu¬
merous. Apollo became silent, except at intervals, when
some efforts were made to regain his lost credit. Xero
attempted to drive him, as it were, by violence, from the
cavern, killing men at the mouth, and polluting it with
blood; but he lingered on, and would not entirely forsake
it. Answers were reported as having been given by him
afterwards, but not without suspicion of forgery. An oracle
of Apollo at another place informed those who consulted
him that he should no more recover utterance at Delphi,
but he enjoined the continuance of the accustomed offer-
The city of Delphi became free under the Romans. In
the time of Pausanias, who has particularly described it,
there still remained an invaluable treasure of offerings
within the court of the temple. The number, variety, and
beauty of these gifts were prodigious ; the store appeared
inexhaustible ; and the robbery of Nero, who removed no
DEL
less than five hundred brazen images, was rather regretted Delphi
than perceived. The holy treasuries, though empty, served I
as memorials of the piety and glory of the cities which had be%
erected them. The Athenian portico preserved the beaks
of ships and the brazen shields, trophies won in the Pelo¬
ponnesian war; and a multitude of curiosities remained un¬
touched in other parts of the temple.
Constantine the Great, however, proved a more fatal
enemy to Apollo and to Delphi than either Sylla or Nero.
He removed the sacred tripods to adorn the hippodrome
of his new city, where these, with the Apollo, the statues
of the Heliconian muses, and the celebrated Pan, dedicat¬
ed by the Greek cities after the conclusion of the war with
the Medes, were extant when Sozomen wTote his history.
Julian afterwards sent Oribasius to restore the temple;
but he was admonished by an oracle to represent to the
emperor the deplorable condition of the place. “ Tell
him the well-built court is fallen to the ground. Phabus
has not a cottage, nor the prophetic laurel, nor the speak¬
ing fountain Cassotis ; and even the beautiiul water is ex-
^DELPHINIA, in Antiquity, feasts which the inhabit¬
ants of iEgina celebrated in honour of Apollo, surnamed
Delphinius, as is pretended, because he assumed the
form of a dolphin, in order to conduct Castilius and his
colony from the isle of Crete to the Sinus Crissceus Del¬
phinium, one of the courts of judicature of the Athenians,
which derived its name from the proximity of the place
where they held their assemblies to the temple of Apollo
Delphinius.
DELPHINIUS, in Astronomy, a constellation ot the
northern hemisphere, the stars ot which are ten in Ptole-
niy’s catalogue, in Tycho s the same number, in Heveliuss
fourteen, and in Flamsteed’s eighteen.
DELPHOS, or Castri as it is most frequently named
by the inhabitants, a wretched village in the province of
Livadia, consisting of about seventy houses, which occupy
the site of the ancient city of Delphi. The remains of
the gymnasium, stadium, and other buildings, are still
extant in its vicinity; but except these, and the stories
connected with them, it has now little to recommend it
to the notice of travellers beyond the splendid prospect
which it commands of the surrounding country. _
DELTA is a part of Lower Egypt, included in the
space between the branches of the Nile and the Mediter¬
ranean Sea. The ancients called it the Isle ot Delta, be¬
cause it is in the shape of a triangle, like the Greek let¬
ter of that name. It is about a hundred and thirty
miles along the coast from Damietta to Alexandria, and
seventy on the sides from the place where the Nile be¬
gins to divide itself. It is the most fruitful country m
all Egypt, but the fertility is chiefly owing to the periodi¬
cal inundations of the river Nile. The principal towns on
the coast are Damietta, Rosetta, and Alexandria.
DELUGE.
A deluge is an inundation or overflowing of the earth,
either wholly or in part, by water. . . ,
We have several deluges recorded in history ; as that
of O^yges, which overflowTed almost all Attica, and that
of Deucalion, which drowned Thessaly, in Greece : but the
most memorable was that called the Universal Deluge, or
Noah's Flood, which overflowed and destroyed the whole
earth, and from which only Noah, and those with him in
the ark, escaped. This flood forms one of the most con¬
siderable epochs in chronology. Its history is given by
Moses, in the book of Genesis ; and its date is fixed, by the
t chronologers, at the year from the creation 16o6,
ich answers to the year before Christ 2293. From th
>d, the state of the world is divided into diluvian an
Amongst the many testimonies to the truth of this part
the Mosaic history, may be mentioned the general vo
mankind at all times, and in all parts of the wor!d. Ihe
ections of the free-thinkers have indeed
•ned upon three points: the want of any direct history
that event by the profane w riters of antiqui y , P
rent impossibility of accounting for the quanti ) o
DELUGE.
691
ve. ter necessary to overflow the whole earth ; and the ab-
sence of any apparent necessity for an universal deluge,
as the same result might have been accomplished by a par¬
tial one.
The first of these objections has given rise to several
very elaborate treatises; though all that has yet been done
in this way has scarcely been able to silence the objectors.
Mr Bryant, in his system of mythology, has with great
learning and considerable success endeavoured to show,
that the deluge was the principal, if not the only, founda¬
tion of the Gentile worship ; that the first of their deities
was Noah ; that all nations of the world looked up to him
as their founder; and that he, his sons, and the first pa¬
triarchs, are alluded to in most, if not in all of the religious
ceremonies, not only of the ancient, but of the modern
heathens. In short, according to this author, the deluge,
so far from being forgotten or obscurely mentioned by the
heathen world, is in reality conspicuous throughout every
act of religious worship performed by them.
The Egyptian Osiris, according to him, was the same
with Ham the son of Noah, though the name was some¬
times bestowed on Noah himself. That this is the case
is evident, he thinks, from its being said that he was ex¬
posed in the ark, and afterwards restored to day; that he
planted the vine, taught mankind agriculture, and incul¬
cated upon them the maxims of religion and of justice.
Something of the same kind is related of Perseus. He is
represented by some ancient historians as a great astro¬
nomer, and as well versed in other sciences. After being
conceived in a shower of gold, he was exposed in an ark
upon the waters, and is said to have had his life renewed.
Further, the history of Myrina the Amazon affords a kind of
abridgment and mixture of the histories of Osiris and Per¬
seus ; and similar to these is the history of Hercules himself.
But our author observes, that under the titles of Osiris, Per¬
seus, Myrina, and the like, the ancients spoke of the ex¬
ploits of a whole nation, who were no other than the Cu-
thites or Cushites, the descendants of Cush the son of Ham
and father of Nimrod. These people spread themselves into
the most remote corners of the globe; and hence the he¬
roes whom they represented are always described as con¬
quering the whole world. According to Diodorus Siculus,
the Egyptian Osiris was the same with the Dionusus of
the Greeks. He is said to have been twice born, and to
have had two fathers and two mothers; to have been won¬
derfully preserved in an ark; and to have travelled all over
the earth, and taught men the use of the vine, building,
planting, and the like. The Indians also claim him as a
native of their country, though some allow that he came
from the west. Of Kronus and Astarte, it is said that
they travelled over the whole earth, disposing of the coun¬
tries as they pleased, and doing good wherever they went.
The same thing is related of Ouranus, Themis, Apollo,
and others; though all their exploits are said to have been
the effects of conquest, and their benevolence was enfor¬
ced by the sword. In a similar manner does he explain the
stories of other heroes of antiquity; and having thus, in
, the characters and histories of the most celebrated per¬
sonages, found traces of the history of Noah and his fami¬
ly, he proceeds to inquire into the memorials of the de¬
luge itself which are to be met with in the history or reli¬
gious rites of the different nations of antiquity.
“We may reasonably suppose,” says he, “ that the particu¬
lars of this extraordinary event would be gratefully comme¬
morated by the patriarch himself, and transmitted to every
branch of his family ; that they were made the subject of
domestic converse, where the history was often renewed,
and ever attended with a reverential awe and horror, es¬
pecially in those who had been witnesses to the calamity,
and had experienced the hand of Providence in their fa¬
vour. In process of time, when there was a falling off Deluge,
from the truth, we might farther expect, that a person of
so high a character as Noah, so particularly distinguished
by the Deity, could not fail of being reverenced by his
posterity, and, when idolatry prevailed, that he would be
one of the first among the sons of men to whom divine
honours would be paid. Lastly, we might conclude, that
these memorials would be interwoven in the mythology of
the Gentile world; and that there would be continual al¬
lusions to these ancient occurrences in the rites and mys¬
teries as they were practised by the nations of the earth.
In conformity to these suppositions, I shall endeavour to
show that these things did happen; that the history of
the deluge was religiously preserved in the first ages ; that
every circumstance of it is to be met with among the his¬
torians and mythologists of different countries ; and traces
of it are to be found, particularly in the sacred rites of
Egypt and of Greece.
“ It will appear from many circumstances in the more
ancient writers, that the great patriarch was highly reve¬
renced by his posterity. They looked up to him as a per¬
son highly favoured by heaven, and honoured him with
many titles, each of which had a reference to some parti¬
cular part of his history. They styled him Prometheus,
Deucalion, Atlas, Theuth, Zuth, Xuthus, Inachus, Osiris.
When there began to be a tendency towards idolatry, and
the adoration of the sun was introduced by the posterity
of Ham, the title of Helius, among others, was conferred
upon him. They called him also M>j!/ and Mav, which is
the moon. When colonies went abroad, many took to
themselves the title of Minyadce and Minyce from him;
just as others were denominated Achcemenidce, Auritce,
HeliadcB, from the sun. People of the former name are
to be found in Arabia and in other parts of the world.
The natives at Orchomenos were styled Minyae, as were
some of the inhabitants of Thessaly. Noah was the ori¬
ginal Zeus and Dios. He was the planter of the vine,
and inventor of fermented liquors; whence he was deno¬
minated Zeuth, which signifies ferment, rendered Zeus
by the Greeks. He was also called Dionusus, interpreted
by the Latins Bacchus, but very improperly. Bacchus was
Chus, the grandson of Noah ; as Ammon may in general
be esteemed Ham, so much reverenced by the Egyptians.
“ Among the people of the East the true name of the
patriarch was preserved; they called him Noas, Naus,
and sometimes contracted Nous; and many places of
sanctity, as well as rivers, were denominated from him.
Anaxagoras of Clazomene had obtained some knowledge
of him in Egypt. By him the patriarch was denominated
Noas or Nous; and both he and his disciples were sensible
that this was a foreign appellation ; notwithstanding which,
he has acted as if it had been a term of the Greek lan¬
guage. Eusebius informs us that the disciples of Anax¬
agoras say ‘ that Nous is, by interpretation, the deity,
Dis oj; Dios ; and they likewise esteem Nous the same as
Prometheus, because he was the renewer of mankind, and
was said to have fashioned them again,’ after they had
been in a manner extinct. After this, however, he gives
a solution of the story, upon the supposition that Nous is
the same with the Greek word w>us, the mind; that ‘ the
mind was Prometheia; and Prometheus was said to re¬
new mankind, from new forming their minds, and leading
them, by cultivation, from ignorance.’
“ Suidas has preserved, from some ancient author, a
curious memorial of this wonderful personage, whom he
affects to distinguish from Deucalion, and styles Nannacus.
According to him, this Nannacus was a person of great
antiquity, and prior to the time of Deucalion. He is said
to have been a king, who, foreseeing the approaching de¬
luge, collected every body together, and led them to a
692
Deluge.
DEL
temple, where he offered up his prayers for them, accom¬
panied with many tears. There is likewise a proverbial
expression about Nannacus applied to people of great an¬
tiquity.
“ Stephanus gives great light to this history, and sup¬
plies many deficiencies. ‘ The tradition is,’ says he, ‘ that
there was one formerly named Annaeus, the extent of
whose life was above three hundred years. The people
who were of his neighbourhood and acquaintance had in¬
quired of an oracle how long he was to live ; and there
was an answer given, that when Annaeus died, all man¬
kind would be destroyed. The Phrygians, upon this ac¬
count, made great lamentations, from whence arose the
proverb to b-tti Avvctxov xXauOBiv, the lamentation of Annaeus,
made use of for people in circumstances highly calamitous.
When the flood of Deucalion came, all mankind were de¬
stroyed, according as the oracle had foretold. Afterwards,
when the surface of the earth began to be again dry, Zeus
ordered Prometheus and Minerva to make images of clay
in the form of men; and, when they were finished, he
called the winds, and made them breathe into each, and
render them vital.’ ” , , , u
From these histories Mr Bryant concludes, that how¬
ever the story may have been varied, the principal outlines
plainly point out the person who is alluded to in these his¬
tories. It is manifest, he thinks, that Annaeus, and Nan¬
nacus, and even Inachus, relate to Noachus or Noah. And
not only these, but the histories of Deucalion and Prome¬
theus, have a like reference to the patriarch; in the six
hundredth year, and not the three hundredth, of whose life
the waters prevailed upon the earth. He wras the father
of mankind, who were renewed in him. Hence he is re¬
presented by another author, under the character of Pro¬
metheus, as a great artist, by whom men were formed
anew, and were instructed in all that was good.
“ Noah was the original Kronus and Zeus, though the
latter is a title conferred sometimes upon his son Ham.
There is a very particular expression recorded by Clemens
of Alexandria, and attributed to Pythagoras, who is said to
have called the sea the Tear of Kronus ; and there was a
further tradition concerning this person, that he drank or
swallowed up all his children. The tears of Isis are repre¬
sented as very mysterious. They are said to have flowed
whenever the Nile began to rise, and to flood the country.
The overflowing of that river was the great source of
affluence to the people, and they looked upon it as their
chief blessing; yet it was ever attended with mystical
tears and lamentations. This was particularly observed at
Coptos, where the principal deity was Isis. An ancient
writer imagines that the tears and lamentations of the
people were to implore an inundation, and the tears of
Isis were supposed to make the river swell. But all this
was certainly said and done in memorial of a former flood,
of which they made the overflowing of the Nile a type.
“ As the patriarch was by some represented as.a king
called Naachus or Nauchus ; so by others he wras styled
Inachus, and supposed to have reigned at Argos. Hence
Inachus was made a king of Greece, and Phoroneus and
Apis brought in succession after him. But Inachus was
not a name of Grecian original; it is mentioned by Euse¬
bius, in his account of the first ages, that there icigned in
Egypt Telegonus, a prince of foreign extraction, who was
the son of Ones the shepherd, and the seventh in descent
from Inachus. And in the same author we read that a
colony went forth from that country into Syria, where
they founded the ancient city of Antioch ; and that they
were conducted by Casus and Belus, who were sons of
Inachus. By Inachus is certainly meant Noah; and the
history relates to some of the more early descendants of
the patriarch. His name has been rendered very unlike
U G E.
itself, by having been lengthened with terminations, and Delug(
likewise fashioned according to the idiom of different lan-
guages ; but the circumstances of the history are so pre¬
cise and particular that we cannot miss of the truth.
“ He seems in the East to have been called Noas, Noasis,
Nusus, and Nus ; and by the Greeks his name was com¬
pounded Dionusus. The Ammonians, wherever they
came, founded cities to his honour; hence places called
Nusa will often occur, and indeed a great many of them
are mentioned by ancient authors. Ihese, though widely
distant, being situated in countries far removed, yet re¬
tained the same original histories, and were generally fa¬
mous for the plantation of the vine. Misled by this simi¬
larity of traditions, people in after times imagined that
Dionusus must necessarily have been where his history
occurred; and as it was the turn of the Greeks to place
every thing to the account of conquest, they made him a
great conqueror, who -went over the face of the whole
earth, and taught mankind the plantation of the vine.
We are informed that Dionusus went with an army over
the face of the whole earth, and taught mankind, as he
passed along, the method of planting the vine, and how
to press out the juice and receive it in proper vessels.
Though the patriarch is represented under various titles,
and even these not always uniformly appropriated, yet there
will continually occur such peculiar circumstances of his
history, as will plainly point out the person referred to.
The person preserved is always mentioned as preserved
in an ark. He is described as being in a state of darkness,
which is represented allegorically as a state of death. He
then obtained a new life, which is called a second birth;
and is said to have his youth renewed. He is, on this ac¬
count, looked upon as the first-born of mankind; and both
his antediluvian and postdiluvian states are commemo¬
rated ; and sometimes the intermediate state is also spoken
of. Diodorus calls him Deucalion, but describes the de¬
luge as in a manner universal. ‘ In the deluge which hap¬
pened in the time of Deucalion, almost all flesh died.’
Apollodorus having mentioned Deucalion ev Xagvax/, con¬
signed to the ark, takes notice, upon his quitting it, of his
offering up an immediate sacrifice to the God who deli¬
vered him. As he was the father of all mankind, the an¬
cients have made him a person of very extensive rule, and
supposed him to have been a king. Sometimes he is de¬
scribed as a monarch of the whole earth, at other times
he is reduced to a petty king of Thessaly. He is men¬
tioned by Helladias in this latter capacity, who speaks of
the deluge in his time, and of his building altars to the
gods. Apollonius Rhodius supposes him to have been a
native of Greece, according to the common notions; but
notwithstanding his prejudices, he gives so particular a
character of him, that the true history cannot be mis¬
taken. Fie makes him indeed the son of Prometheus, the
son of Japetus; but in these ancient mythological ac¬
counts all genealogy must be entirely disregarded.
Though this character be not precisely true, yet we may
learn that the person represented was the first of men,
through whom religious rites were renewed, cities built,
and civil polity established in the world; none of which
circumstances are applicable to any king of Greece. e
are assured by Philo that Deucalion was Noah; and the
Chaldeans likewise mentioned him by the name of Xisu-
thrus, as we are informed by Cedrenus.
« That Deucalion was unduly adjudged by the people
of Thessaly to their country solely, may be proved trom
his name occurring in different parts of the world, and al¬
ways accompanied with some history of the deluge. e
natives of Syria laid the same claim to him. He was sup¬
posed to have founded the temple at Hierapohs, w icre
was a chasm through which the waters after the e uee
DEL
I) age. were said to have retreated. He was likewise reported
' to have built the temple of Jupiter at Athens, where there
was a cavity of the same nature, and a like tradition, that
the waters of the flood passed off through this aperture.
However groundless the notions may be of the waters
having retreated through these passages, yet they show
what impressions of this event were retained by the Am-
monians, who introduced some history of it wherever they
came. As different nations succeeded one another in these
parts, and time produced a mixture of generations, they
varied the history, and modelled it according to their no¬
tions and traditions; yet the groundwork was always true,
and the event for a long time universally commemorated.
Josephus, who seems to have been a person of extensive
knowledge, and versed in the histories of nations, says
that this great occurrence was to be met with in the writ¬
ings of all persons who treated of the first ages. He men¬
tions Berosus of Chaldea, Hieronymus of Egypt, who
wrote concerning the antiquities of Phoenicia; also Alna-
seas, Abydenus, Melon, and Nicholaus Damascenus, as
writers by whom it was recorded; and adds, that it was
taken notice of by many others.
“ Among the eastern nations, the traces of this event
are more vivid and determinate than those of Greece, and
more conformable to the accounts of Moses. Eusebius
has preserved a most valuable extract to this purpose
from Abydenus, which was taken from the archives of
the Medes and Babylonians. This writer speaks of Noah,
whom he names Seisithrus, as a king, and says that the
flood began upon the 15th day of the month Desius ; that
during the prevalence of the waters, Seisithrus sent out
birds, that he might judge if the flood had remained ; but
that the birds, not finding any resting-place, returned to
him again. This was repeated three times; when the
birds were found to return with their feet stained with
soil, by which he knew the flood was abated. Upon this
he quitted the ark, and was never more seen of men, be¬
ing taken away by the gods from the earth. Abydenus
concludes with a particular, in which the eastern writers
are unanimous, that the place of descent from the ark was
in Armenia, and speaks of its remains being preserved for
a long time. Plutarch mentions the Noachic dove, and its
being sent out of the ark. But the most particular his¬
tory of the deluge, and the nearest of any to the account
given by Moses, is to be found in Lucian. He was a na¬
tive of Samosata, a city of Comagene, upon the Euphrates,
a part of the world where memorials of the deluge were
particularly preserved, and where a reference to that
history was continually kept up in the rites and worship
of the country. His knowledge, therefore, was obtained
from the Asiatic nations among whom he was born, and
not from his kinsmen the Helladians, who were far infe¬
rior in the knowledge of ancient times. He describes
Noah under the name of Deucalion, and says, ‘ that the
present race of mankind are different from those who first
existed; for those of the antediluvian world were all de¬
stroyed. The present world is peopled from the sons of
Deucalion, having increased to so great a number from
one person. In respect to the former brood, they were
men of violence, and lawless in their dealings. They re¬
garded not oaths, nor observed the rights of hospitality,
nor showed mercy to those who sued for it. On this ac¬
count they were doomed to destruction; and for this pur¬
pose there was a mighty eruption of waters from the earth,
attended with heavy showers from above, so that the ri¬
vers swelled and the sea overflowed, till the whole earth
was covered with a flood, and all flesh drowned. Deuca¬
lion alone was preserved to re-people the world. This
mercy was shown to him on account of his piety and jus¬
tice. His preservation was effected in this manner. He
u G E.
693
put all his family, both his sons and their wives, into a
vast ark which he had provided, and he went into it him¬
self. At the same time animals of every species, boars,
hoises, lions, serpents, whatever lived upon the face of the
earth, followed him by pairs; all which he received into
the ark, and experienced no evil from them ; for there pre¬
vailed a wonderful harmony throughout, by the immediate
influence of the Deity. Thus were they wafted with him
as long as the flood endured.’ After this he proceeds to
mention, that upon the disappearing of the waters, Deu¬
calion went forth from the ark and raised an altar to God ;
but he transposes the scene to Hierapolis in Syria, where
the natives pretended, as has been already mentioned, to
have very particular memorials of the deluge.
“Most of the authors who have transmitted to us these
accounts at the same time inform us that the remains of
the ark were to be seen in their days on one of the moun¬
tains of Armenia. Abydenus particularly says, in confir¬
mation of this opinion, that the people of the country used
to get small pieces of the wood, which they carried about
by way of amulet. And Berosus mentions that they
scraped off the asphaltus with which it was covered, and
used it as a charm. Some of the fathers seem to insist on
the certainty of the ark being still remaining in their time.
Theophilus says expressly that the remains were to be
seen upon the mountains of Aram or Armenia. And
Chrysostom appeals to it as to a thing well known. ‘ Do
not,’ says he, ‘ those mountains of Armenia bear witness
to the truth ? those mountains where the ark first rested ?
And are not the remains of it preserved there even unto
this day?’
“ There was a custom among the priests of Ammon of
carrying a boat in procession at particular seasons, in which
was an oracular shrine held in great veneration. They
were said to have been eighty in number, and to have car¬
ried the sacred vessel about just as they were directed by
the impulse of the deity. This custom was likewise in
use among the Egyptians; and Bishop Pocock has pre¬
served three specimens of ancient sculpture, wherein this
ceremony is displayed. They are of wonderful antiquity,
and were found by him in Upper Egypt.
“ Part of the ceremony in most of the ancient mysteries
consisted in carrying about a ship or boat; which custom,
upon due examination, will be found to relate to nothing
else but Noah and the deluge. The ship of Isis is well
known, and the festivity among the Egyptians whenever
it was carried in public. The name of this, and of all the
navicular shrines, was Baris, which is remarkable ; for it
was the very name of the mountain, according to Nicolaus
Damascenus, on which the ark of Noah rested, the same
as Ararat in Armenia. He mentions that there is a large
mountain in Armenia, which stands above the country of
the Minyae, called Baris; to this it was said that many
people betook themselves in the time of the deluge, and
were saved; and there is a tradition of one person in par¬
ticular floating in an ark, and arriving at the summit of
the mountain. We may be assured, then, that the ship of
Isis was a sacred emblem, in honour of which there was
among the Egyptians an annual festival. It was in after
times admitted among the Romans, and set down in their
calendar for the month of March. The former, in their
description of the primary deities, have continually some
reference to a ship or float. Hence we frequently read of
Qioi vuvriKkovrig, sailing gods. They oftentimes, says Por¬
phyry, describe the sun in the character of a man sailing
upon a float. And Plutarch observes to the same purpose,
that they did not represent the sun and moon in chariots,
but wafted about upon floating machines. In doing which,
they did not refer to the luminaries, but to a person repre¬
sented under those titles. The sun, or Orus, is likewise
Deluge.
I
u
Deluge-
%
described by Jamblichus as sitting upon the lotus, and
sailing in a vessel. _
“ It is said of Sesostris that he constructed a ship which
was two hundred and eighty cubits in length. It was of
cedar, plated without with gold, and inlaid with silver; and
it was, when finished, dedicated to Osiris at Thebes. It
is not credible that there should have been a ship of this
size, especially in an inland district, the most remote of
any in Egypt. It was certainly a temple and a shrine.
The former was framed upon this large scale; and it was
the latter on which the gold and silver were so lavishly ex¬
pended. There is a remarkable circumstance relating to
the Argonautic expedition, that the dragon slain by Jason
was of the size of a trireme; by which must be meant
that it was of the shape of a ship in general, foi there
were no triremes at the time alluded to. And I have
moreover shown, that all these dragons, as they have been
represented by the poets, were in reality temples, JJracon-
tia, where, among other rites, the worship of the serpent
was instituted. There is another reason to think that this
temple, as well as that of Sesostris, was fashioned, in re¬
spect to its superficial contents, after the model of a ship ,
and as to the latter, it was probably intended in its out¬
lines to be the exact representation of the ark, in com¬
memoration of which it was certainly built. It was a tem¬
ple sacred to Osiris at Theba, or, to say the truth, it was
itself called Theba; and both the city, said to be one of
the most ancient in Egypt, as well as the province, were
undoubtedly denominated from it. Now Theba was the
name of the ark. It is the very word made use of by the
sacred writer; so that we may, I think, be assured of the
prototype after which this temple was fashioned. It is
said indeed to have been only two hundred and eighty
cubits in length, whereas the ark of Noah was three
hundred; but this is a variation of only one fifteenth in
the whole; and as the ancient cubit was not in all coun¬
tries the same, we may suppose that this disparity arose
rather from the manner of measuring, than from any real
difference in the extent of the building. It was an idola¬
trous temple, said to have been built by Sesostris in ho¬
nour of Osiris. I have been repeatedly obliged to take no¬
tice of the ignorance of the Greeks in respect to ancient
titles, and have shown their misapplication of terms in
many instances, especially in their supposing temples to
have been erected by persons to whom they were in reali¬
ty sacred. Sesostris was Osiris; the same as Dionusus,
Menes, and Noah. He is called Seisithrus by Abydenus,
Xixouthros by Borosus and Apollodorus, and is represent¬
ed by them as a prince in whose time the deluge happen¬
ed. He was called Zuth, Xuth, and Zeus, and had cer¬
tainly divine honours paid to him.
“ Pausanias gives a remarkable account of a temple of
Hercules, at Eruthra in Ionia, which he mentions as of
the highest antiquity, and very like those of Egypt. The
deity was represented upon a float, and was supposed to
have come thither in this manner from Phoenicia. Aris¬
tides mentions that at Smyrna, upon the feast called Dio-
nysia, a ship used to be carried in procession. The same
custom prevailed among the Athenians at the Panathensea,
when what was termed the sacred ship was borne with
great reverence through the city to the temple of Dame-
ter at Eleusis. At Phalerus, near Athens, there were ho¬
nours paid to an unknown hero, who was represented in
the stern of a ship. At Olympia, the most sacred place
in Greece, was a representation of the like nature. It
was a building like the forepart of a ship, which stood
facing the end of the hippodromus; and towards the mid¬
dle of it was an altar, upon which, at the renewal of each
Olympiad, certain rites were performed.
“ I think it is pretty plain that all these emblematical
representations, of which I have given so many instances, Delugr
related to the history of the deluge, and the conservation ^vv
of one family in the ark. This history was pretty recent
when these works were executed in Egypt, and when the
rites were first established; and there is reason to think,
that in early times most shrines of the Mizraim were form¬
ed under the resemblance of a ship, in memory of this
great event. Nay, further, both ships and temples re¬
ceived their names from thence, being styled by the
Greeks, who borrowed largely from Egypt, Nau;, and
Naos, and mariners Naura, Nautce, in reference to the pa¬
triarch, who was variously styled Noas, Nous, and Noah.
“ However the Greeks may in their mysteries have
sometimes introduced a ship as a symbol, yet in their re¬
ference to the deluge itself, and to the persons preserved,
they always speak of an ark. And though they were apt
to mention the same person under various titles, and by
these means different people seem to be made principals
in the same history; yet they were so far uniform in their
account of this particular event, that they made each of
them to be exposed in an ark. Thus it is said of Deuca¬
lion, Perseus, and Dionusus, that they were exposed upon
the waters in a machine of this fabric. Adonis was hid in
an ark by Venus, and was supposed to have been in a state
of death for a year. Theocritus introduces a pastoral per¬
sonage named Comates, who was exposed in an ark for the
same term, and wonderfully preserved. Of Osiris being
exposed in an ark we have a very remarkable account in
Plutarch, who mentions that it was on account of Typhon,
and that it happened on the 17th of the month Athyr,
when the sun was in Scorpio. This, in my judgment, was
the precise time when Noah entered the ark, and when
the flood came, which, in the Egyptian mythology, was
called Typhon.
“ Typhon is one of those whose character has been
greatly confounded. This has arisen from two different
personages being included under one name, who undoubt¬
edly were distinguished in the language of Egypt. Ty¬
phon was a compound of Tuph or Tnpha-On, and signified
a high altar of the deity. There were several such in
Egypt, upon which they offered human sacrifices; and the
cities which had these altars were styled Typhonian. But
there was another Typhon, who was very different from
the former, however by mistake blended with that charac¬
ter. By this was signified a mighty whirlwind and inun¬
dation, and it oftentimes denoted the ocean, and particu¬
larly the ocean in a ferment; for, as Plutarch observes, by
Typhon was understood any thing violent and unruly. It
was a derivative from Tuph, like the former name; which
Tuph seems here to have been the same as the Suph of
the Hebrews. By this they denoted a whirlwind ; butamong
the Egyptians it was taken in a greater latitude, and sig¬
nified any thing boisterous, particularly the sea. Plutarch
speaks of it as denoting the sea, and says likewise that the
salt of the sea was called the foam of 1 yphon. It signified
also a whirlwind, as we learn from Euripides, who ex¬
presses it Tuphos; and the like is to be found in Hesj-
chius, who calls it a violent wind.
“ The history of Typhon was taken from hieroglyphical
descriptions. In these the dove, oinas, was represented
as hovering over the mundane egg, which was exposed to
the fury of Typhon; for an egg, containing in it the ele¬
ments of life, was thought no improper emblem of the ark,
in which were preserved the rudiments of the future world.
Hence, in the Dionusiaca, and in other mysteries, one part
of the nocturnal ceremony consisted in the consecration
of an egg. By this, we are informed by Porphyry, was
signified'the world. This world was Noah and his family,
even all mankind, inclosed and preserved in the ark.
“ In respect to Typhon, it must be confessed that the
DEL
gjip. history given of him is attended with some obscurity. The
Grecians have comprehended several characters under one
term, which the Egyptians undoubtedly distinguished.
The term was used for a title as well as a name, and se¬
veral of those personages which had a relation to the de¬
luge were styled Typhonian or Diluvian. All these the
Grecians have included under one and the same name,
Typhon. The real deity by whom the deluge was brought
upon the earth had the appellation of Typhonian, by which
was meant Diluvii Deus. It is well known that the ark
was constructed by a divine commission, in which, when
it was completed, God inclosed the patriarch and his fa¬
mily. Hence it is said that Typhon made an ark of curi¬
ous workmanship, that he might dispose of the body of
Osiris. Into this Osiris entered, and was shut up by Ty¬
phon. All this relates to the Typhonian deity who inclosed
Noah, together with his family, within the limits of an ark.
The patriarch also, who was thus interested in the event,
had the title of Typhonian. I have shown that the ark by
the mythologists was spoken of as the mother of mankind.
The stay in the ark was looked upon as a state of death
and of regeneration. The passage to life was through the
door of the ark, which was formed in its side. Through
this the patriarch made his descent, and at this point was
the commencement of time. This history is obscurely al¬
luded to in the account of Typhon, of whom it is said, that
without any regard to time or place, he forced a passage
and burst into light obliquely through the side of his mo¬
ther. This return to light was described as a revival from
the grave; and Plutarch accordingly mentions the return
of Osiris from Hades, after he had been for a long season
inclosed in an ark and in a state of death. This renewal
of life was by the Egyptians esteemed a second state of
childhood. They accordingly, in their hieroglyphics, de¬
scribed him as a boy, whom they placed upon the lotus
or water-lily, and called him Orus. He was the supposed
son of Isis; but it has been shown that Isis, Rhea, Atar-
gatis, were all emblems of the ark, that receptacle which
was styled the mother of mankind. Orus is represented
as undergoing from the Titans all that Osiris suffered
from Typhon, and the history at bottom is the same.
Hence it is said of Isis, that she had the power of making
people immortal, and that when she found her son Orus,
in the midst of the waters, dead through the malice of the
Titans, she not only gave him a renewal of life, but also
conferred upon him immortality.”
In this manner does Bryant interpret almost all the an¬
cient fables, of which no satisfactory solution was ever be¬
fore given. He shows that the primitive gods of Egypt,
who were eight in number, were no other than the eight
persons saved in the ark ; and that almost all the heathen
deities had one way or other a reference to Noah. He
proves that Noah was characterized under the titles of
Janus, Nereus, Proteus, Cannes, Dagon; and, in short,
that the deluge, so far from being unknown to the hea¬
thens, or forgotten by them, was in a manner the basis
of their whole worship. He traces the history of the raven
and dove sent forth by Noah in the customs of various
nations, not only in the East, but the West also. And, not
content with these testimonies, he shows that the same
, mythology as that of the Egyptians, and the same hiero¬
glyphics, were carried as far as China and Japan. I he In¬
dians have a person whom they call Buto or Budo, or
Buddha. This is the same as Boutas of Egypt, Battus of
Cyrene, and Boeotus of Greece : and the account given of
him is similar to that of Typhon; for it is said that he
did not come to life in the usual way, but made himself
a passage through the side of his mother, who is repre¬
sented as a virgin. This history, though now current
among the Indians, is of great antiquity, as we learn
u G E. 695
from the account given by Clemens Alexandrinus. “There Deluge,
is a caste of Indians,” says he, “ who are disciples of Bou-
tas. I his person, on account of his extraordinary sanctity,
they look up to as a god.” The name of Boutas, Battus,
and Bceotus, though apparently conferred upon the patri-
arch, yet related originally to the machine in which he vras
preserved. Of this some traces may be found among the
Greeks. One of the Ammonian names for the ark was
Aren or Arene, and Bceotus is said by Diodorus Siculus
to have been the son of Neptune and Arne, which is a
contraction of arene, the ark. The chief city, Boutus, in
Egypt, where was the floating temple, signified properly
the city of the float or ark. The Boeotians, who in the
Dionusiaca so particularly commemorated the ark, were
supposed to be descended from an imaginary personage,
Bceotus; and from him likewise their country was thought
to have received its name. But Boeotus was merely a va¬
riation from Boutus, and Butus, the ark; which in ancient
times was indifferently styled Theba, Argus, Aren, Butus,
and Bceotus. The term Cibotus is a compound of the same
import, and signifies both the temple of the ark and also
a place for shipping.
“ All the mysteries of the Gentile world seem to have
been memorials of the deluge, and of the event which im¬
mediately succeeded. They consisted for the most part
of a melancholy process, and were celebrated by night, in
commemoration of the state of darkness in which the pa¬
triarch and his family had been involved. The first thing
at those awful meetings was to offer an oath of secrecy to
all who were to be initiated, after which they proceeded
to the ceremonies: these began with a description of chaos,
by which was signified some memorial of the deluge. Chaos
was certainly the same as fivQog, the great abyss. Who,
says Epiphanius, is so ignorant as not to know that Chaos,
and Buthos, the abyss, are of the same purport?
“ The names of the deities in Japan and China, and the
form of them, as well as the mythology with which they
are attended, point out the country from whence they ori¬
ginally came. In China the deity upon the lotus in the
midst of waters has been long a favourite emblem, and
was imported from the West; the insigne of the dragon
was from the same quarter. The Cuthites worshipped
Cham, the sun, whose name they variously compounded.
In China most things which have any reference to splen¬
dour and magnificence seem to be denominated from the
same object. Cham is said, in the language of that coun¬
try, to signify any thing supreme. Cum is a fine building
or palace, similar to Coma of the Ammonians. Cum is a
lord or master, Cham a sceptre. Lastly, by Cham is sig¬
nified a priest, analogous to the Chamanim and Chamenim
of Cutha and Babylonia. The country itself is by the Tar¬
tars called Ham. The cities Cham-ju, Campion, Compi-
tion, Cumdan, Chamul, and many others of the same form,
are manifestly compounded of the sacred term Cham. Cam-
balu, the name of the ancient metropolis, is the city of
Cham-bal; and Milton styles it very properly ‘ Cambalu,
seat of Cathaian Chan.’ By this is meant the chief city of
the Cuthean monarch ; for Chan is a derivative of Cahen,
a prince. It seems sometimes in China and Japan to have
been expressed Quan and Quano.
“ Two temples are taken notice of by Hamilton, near
Syrian, in Pegu, which he represents as so like in struc¬
ture that they seemed to be built on the same, model.
One of these was Kiakiack, or the God of Gods' temple.
The other is called the temple of Dagun; and the doors
and windows of it are perpetually shut, so that none can
enter but the priests. They will not tell of what shape
the idol is, but only say that it is not of human form. The
former deity, Kiakiack, is represented as asleep, of a hu¬
man shape, and sixty feet long, and when he awakes the
V
696
Deluge.
DELUGE.
world ig to be destroyed. As soon as Kiakiack has dis¬
solved the frame and being of this world, Dagun will ga¬
ther up the fragments and make a new one. I make no
doubt but the true name of the temple was lack lack, and
dedicated to the same god as the Jachusi in Japan. Mr
Wise takes notice of the Grecian exclamation to Dion-
usus, when the terms lacche, O lacche, were repeated; and
he supposes, with great probability, that the Peguan name
had a reference to the same deity. It is certain that the
worship of Dionusus prevailed very early among the na¬
tions in the East. The Indians used to maintain that his
rites first began among them. Professor Bayer has shown
that traces of his worship are still to be observed among
the Tamuli of Tranquebar. 1 They have a tradition, says
he, ‘ that there was once a gigantic person named Maida-
shuren, who was born of Nisadabura, near the mountain
Meru. He had the horns of a bull, and drank wine, and
made war upon the gods. He was attended by eight Pu-
dxim’y;\\o were gigantic and mischievous dcemons, of the
family of those Indian shepherds called Kobaler.' In this
account we have a manifest reference to the history of
Dionusus, as well as that of the Dionusians, by whom his
rites were introduced. And we may perceive that it bears
a great resemblance to the accounts transmitted by the
Grecians. What are these Kobaler, who were descended
from the shepherds, but the same as the Cobali of Greece,
the uniform attendants upon Dionusus ? a set of priests
whose cruelty and chicanery rendered them infamous.
< The Cobali,’ says an ancient author, ‘ were a set of cruel
daemons, who followed in the retinue of Dionusus. It is a
term made use of for knaves and cheats.’
“ As the deity, in the second temple of Syrian, to which
strangers were not admitted, was not of a human form, and
was called Dagun, we may easily conceive the hidden
character under which he was described. We may con¬
clude that it was no other than that mixed figure of a man
and a fish, under which he was of old worshipped both in
Palestine and Syria. He is expressed under this symbo¬
lical representation in many parts of India, and by the
Brahmins is called Wistnu or Vishnu. Dagon and Vishnu
have a like reference ; they equally represent the man
of the sea, called by Berosus Oannes, whose history has
been reversed by the Indians. They suppose that he will
restore the world when it shall be destroyed by the chief
God. But by Dagon is signified the very person through
whom the earth has been already restored when it was in
a state of ruin, and by whom mankind was renewed. Da¬
gon and Noah I have shown to be the same. Vishnu is
represented, like Dagon, under the mixed figure of a man
and a fish, or rather of a man, a princely figure, proceed¬
ing from a fish. The name of this district, near which the
temples above stand, we find to be called Syrian, just as
was named the 1'egion where stood the temples of Atar-
gatis and Dagon. Syrus, Syria, and Syrian are all of the
same purport, and signify Ccelestis and Solaris, from Sehor,
the sun.”
He next proceeds to describe some of the Indian tem¬
ples or pagodas, particularly those of Salsette, Elephanta,
and another called Elora, near Aurungabad, in the pro¬
vince of Balagate.
“ Many of these ancient structures,” continues Mr Bry¬
ant, “ have been attributed to Ramscander, or Alexander
the Great; but there is nothing among these stately edi¬
fices that in the least savours of Grecian workmanship,
nor had that monarch, nor any of the princes after him,
opportunity to perform works of this nature. We have
not the least reason to think that they ever possessed the
country, for they were called off from their attention this
way by feuds and engagements nearer home. There is no
tradition of this country having been ever conquered ex¬
cept by the fabulous armies of Hercules and Dionusus. DeW
What has led people to think that those works were the
operation of Alexander, is the similitude of the name Ramt-
xander. To this person they have sometimes been attri¬
buted; but Ramtxander was a deity, the supposed son of
Bal, and he is introduced among the personages who were
concerned in the incarnations of Vishnu.
“ The temple of Elora, and all the pagodas of which I
have made mention, must be of great antiquity, as the
natives cannot reach their era. I hey were undoubtedly
the work of the Indo-Cuthites, who came so early into
these parts. And that these structures were formed by
them, will appear from many circumstances; but espe¬
cially from works of the same magnificence which were
performed by them in other places. For scarce any people
could have effected such great works, but a branch of that
family which erected the tower in Babylonia, the walls of
Baalbec, and the pyramids of Egypt.”
Having then described a number of Indian idols of sur¬
prising magnitude, “ the Babylonians and Egyptians,’
says he, “ and all of the same great family, used to take
a pleasure in forming gigantic figures, and exhibiting other
representations equally stupendous. Such were the co¬
lossal statues at Thebes, and the sphinx in the plains of
Coume. The statue erected by Nebuchadnezzar in the
plains of Dura was in height threescore Babylonish cu¬
bits. It was probably raised in honour of Cham, the sun;
and perhaps it was also dedicated to the head of the
Chaldaic family, who was deified and reverenced under
that title. Marcellinus takes notice of a statue of Apollo
named Comeus, which, in the time of tlm Emperor Ve-
rus, was brought from Seleucia to Rome. This related to
the same deity as the preceding. We may also infer that
the temple at Kamju was erected to Cham, the sun, whom
the people worshipped under the title of Samonifu'.
It is remarkable that in Japan the priests and nobility
have the title of Cami. The Emperor Quebacondono, in
a letter to the Portuguese viceroy in 1585, tells him that
Japan is the kingdom of Chamis ; whom, says he, we hold
to be the same as Scin, the origin of all things. By Scin
is probably meant San, the sun, who was the same as
Cham, rendered here Chamis. The laws of the country
are spoken of as the laws of Chamis; and we are told by
Kaempfer that all the gods were styled either Sin or Ca¬
mi. The founder of the empire is said to have been Ten-
sio Dai Sin, or Tensio the god of light. Near his temple
was a cavern religiously visited, upon account of his having
been once hid, when no sun nor stars appeared. He was
esteemed the fountain of day, and his temple was called
the Temple of Naiku. Near this cavern was another temple,
in which the canusi or priests showed an image of the
deity sitting upon a cow. It was called Dainits No Ray,
the great representation of the sun. One of their princi¬
pal gods is Jakusi, similar to the lacchus of the West.
Kaempfer says that he is the Apollo of the Japanese, and
they describe him as the Egyptians did Horus. His temple
stands in a town called Minnoki; and Jakusi is here re¬
presented upon a gilt tarate flower, which is said to be the
nymphcea palustris maxima, ox faba Egyptiaca of Prosper
Alpinus. One half of a large scallop shell is like a ca-
nopy placed over him ; and his head is surrounded with a
crown of rays. They have also an idol named Menippe,
much reverenced in different parts. Both these, continues
Bryant, relate to the same person, namely, Noah. Ksemp-
fer, an author of great credit, saw the temple of Dabys,
which he truly renders Daibod, at Jedo, in Japan. By
Daibod was meant the god Buddha, whose religion was
styled the Budso, and prevailed greatly upon the Indus
and Ganges. Kmmpfer, from whom Mr Bryant takes
this account, says that the people ol Siam represent nn
ji#
iv
DEL
p(.5re. under the form of a Moor, in a sitting posture, and of a
prodigious size. His skin is black, his hair curled, and
the images about him are of the same complexion. “ This
god,” says Mr Bryant, “ was supposed to have neither
father nor mother. By Budha we are certainly to un¬
derstand the idolatrous sj^mbol called by some nations
Buddo ; the same as Argus and Theba, names for the
ark. In the mythology concerning it we may see a re¬
ference both to the machine itself and to the persons
preserved in it; in consequence of which we find this
person also styled Bod, Budha, and Buddo; and in the
west Butus, Battus, and Bceotus. He was said by the
Indians not to have been born in the ordinary way, but
to have come to light indirectly through the side of his
mother. By Clemens of Alexandria he is called Bouta ;
and in the history of this person, however varied, we may
perceive a relation to the arkite deity of the sea, called
Poseidon or Neptune; also to Arculus and Dionusus,
styled Bceotus and Thebanus. Ksempfer has a curious
history of a deity of this sort called Abutto, whose temple
stood in the province of Bungo, upon the sea-shore, near
the village of Toma. About a quarter of a German mile
before you come to this village, stands a famous temple of
the god Abutto, which is said* to be very eminent for mi¬
raculously curing many inveterate distempers, as also for
procuring a favourable wind and a good passage. For this
reason sailors and passengers always tie some farthings to
a piece of wood, and throw it into the sea, as an offering
to Abutto, to obtain a propitious wind. The same deity,
but under a different name, was worshipped in China.
The Apis, Mnevis, and Anubis of Egypt, have often been
mentioned and explained, as well as the Minotaur of Crete.
The same hieroglyphics occur in Japan; and we are in¬
formed by Marco Polo that the inhabitants worship idols
of different shapes. Some have the head of an ox, some
of a swine, and others the head of a dog. The most com¬
mon representation in this country is that of Godso Ten
Go, or ‘ the ox-headed prince of heaven.’
“ It has already been noticed, that the ark was repre¬
sented under the symbol of an egg, called the mundane
egg, which was exposed to the rage of Typhon. It was
also described under the figure of a lunette, and called
Selene, or the moon. The person by whom it was framed,
and who through its means was providentially preserved,
occurs under the character of a steer, and the machine
itself under the semblance of a cow or heifer. We have
moreover been told that it was called Cibotus, which Cle¬
mens of Alexandria calls Thebotha. Epiphanius mentions
it by the name of Idaal Booth ; and says that, according
to an eastern tradition, a person named Nun was preserv¬
ed in it. The horse of Neptune was another emblem, as
was also the hippopotamus or river-horse. The people of
Elis made use of the tortoise for the same purpose, and
represented Venus as resting upon its back. Some traces
of these hieroglyphics are to be found in Japan, which
were certainly carried thither by the Indie Ethiopians.
“ From an account of a temple of Daiboth, probably the
same with Daibod, at Meaco, in Japan, we may perceive
that the people there speak of the renewal of the world
at the deluge as the real creation, which I have shown to
be a common mistake in the histories of the event. And
though the story is told with some variation, yet in all the
circumstances of consequence it accords very happily with
the mythology of Egypt, Syria, and Greece. It matters
not how the emblems have by length of time been misin¬
terpreted. We have the mundane egg upon the waters,
and the concomitant symbol of the moon ; and the egg at
last opened by the assistance of the sacred steer, upon
which the world issues forth to this day.” The author
proceeds afterwards to mention the great veneration paid
VOL. vn.
U G E.
in these parts to the ox and cow, and says that nobody Deluge,
dares injure them. One deity of the Japanese was Canon, '^-\~***
the reputed lord of the ocean. He was represented in an
erect posture, crowned with a flower, and coming out of
the mouth of a fish. He is represented in the sameman-
ner by the natives ot India, and named Vishnu and JSIa-
cauter; and he is to be found in other parts of the East.
Father Boushet mentions a tradition among the Indians
concerning a flood in the days of Vishnu, which covered
the whole earth. It is moreover reported of him, that
seeing the prevalence of the waters, he made a float, and
being turned into a fish, he steered it with his tail. This
person, in the account of the Banians by Lord, is called
Menow; which certainly should be expressed Men-Now.
It is said, that in the Shaster of this people, a like history
is given of the earth being overwhelmed by a deluge, in
which mankind perished; but the world was afterwards
renewed by two persons called Menou and Ceteroupa.
Vishnu is described under many characters, which he is said
at times to have assumed. One of these, according to
the Brahmins of Tanjour, was that of Rama Sami. This
undoubtedly is the same as Sama Rama of Babylonia, only
reversed ; and it relates to that great phenomenon the
Iris, which was generally accompanied with the dove, and
held in veneration by the Semarim.
“ As the history ot China is supposed to extend upwards
to an amazing height, it may be worth while to consider
the first eras in the Chinese annals, as they are represent¬
ed in the writings of Japan (for the Japanese have pre¬
served histories of China); and by such a collation, I be¬
lieve no small light may be obtained towards the discovery
of some important truths. Hitherto it has not been ob¬
served that such a collation could be made.
“ In the histories of this country, the first monarch of
China; is named Foki, the same whom the Chinese call
Fold, and place at the head of their list. This prince had,
according to some the body, according to others the head,
of a serpent. If we may believe the Japanese historians,
he began his reign above 21,000 years before Christ. The
second Chinese emperor was Sin-Noo, by the people of
China called Sin-Num ; and many begin the chronology
of the country with him. He is supposed to have lived
about 3000 years before Christ, consequently there is an
interval of near 18,000 years between the first emperor
and the second, a circumstance not to be credited. The
third, who immediately succeeded Sin-Noo, was Hoam-Ti.
In this account we may, I think, perceive, that the Chi¬
nese have acted like the people of Greece and other re¬
gions. The histories which were imported they have pre¬
fixed to the annals of the nation; and adopted the first
personages of antiquity, and made them monarchs in their
own country. Whom can we suppose Fohi, with the head
of a serpent, to have been, but the great founder of all
kingdoms, the father of mankind ? They have placed him
at an immense distance, not knowing his true era. And
I think we may be assured, that under the character of
Sin-Num and Sin-Noo we have the history of Noah; and
Hoam-Ti was no other than Ham. According to Kaemp-
fer, Sin-Noo was exactly the same character as Serapis
of Egypt. ‘ He was a husbandman, and taught mankind
agriculture, and those arts which relate to the immediate
support of life. He also discovered the virtues of many
plants; and he was represented with the head of an ox,
and sometimes only with two horns. His picture is held
in high estimation by the Chinese.’ Well indeed might
Kaempfer think that in Sin-Noo he saw the character of
Serapis, for this personage was no other than Sar-Apis,
the great father of mankind, the same as Men-Neuas of
Egypt, the same also as Dionusus and Osiris. By Du
Halde he is called Chin-Nong, and made the first mo-
4 x
698
DELUGE.
Deluge.
narch after Fohi. The Chinese accounts afford the same
history as has been given above.
“ As the family of Noah consisted of eight persons in¬
clusive, there have been writers who have placed some of
them in succession, and supposed that there were three
or four persons who reigned between Sin-Noo and Hoam.
But Du Halde says, that in the true histories of the coun¬
try, the three first monarchs were Fohi, Chin-Nong, and
Hoam, whom he styles Hoang-Ti. To these, he says,
the arts and sciences owe their invention and progress.
Thus we find that those who were heads of families have
been raised to be princes, and their names have been
prefixed to the list of kings, and their history superadded
to the annals of the country. It is further observable, in
the accounts given of those supposed kings, that their
term of life, for the first five or six generations, corre¬
sponds with that of the patriarchs after the flood, and de¬
creases much in the same proportion.
The history of Japan is divided into three eras, which
consist of gods, demigods, and mortals. The person whom
the natives look upon to be the real founder of their mo¬
narchy is named Synmu, in whose reign the Sintoo re¬
ligion, the most ancient of the country, was introduced.
It was called Shwsju and Chami-mitsa, from Sin and
Chami, the deities which were the objects of worship.
At this time it is said that 600 foreign idols were brought
into Japan. To the Sintoo religion was afterwards added
the Budso, together with the worship of Amida. This
deity they commonly represented with the head of a dog,
and esteemed him the guardian of mankind. This religion
was more complicated than the former, and abounded with
hieroglyphical representations and mysterious rites. It
is the same which I have termed the Arkite Idolatry,
wherein the sacred steer and cow were venerated. The
deity was represented upon the lotus and upon a tortoise,
and oftentimes as proceeding from a fish. In this also,
under the character of Buddha, we may trace innumerable
memorials of the ark, and of the person preserved in it.
The author above, having mentioned the eleventh em¬
peror inclusive from Syn-Mu, tells us that in his time
these rites began. ‘ In his reign Budo, otherwise called
Kobotus, came over from the Indies to Japan, and brought
with him, upon a white horse, his religion and doctrines.’
We find here, that the object of worship is made the per¬
son who introduced it (a mistake almost universally pre¬
valent), otherwise in this short account what a curious
history is unfolded.
“ The only people to whom we can have recourse for
any written memorials concerning these things are the in¬
habitants of India Proper. They were, we find, the per¬
sons who introduced these hieroglyphics both in China and
Japan. It will therefore be worth while to consider what
they have transmitted concerning their religious opinions,
as we may from hence obtain still greater light towards
explaining this symbolical worship. Every manifestation
of God’s goodness to the world was in the first ages ex¬
pressed by an hieroglyphic ; and the Deity was according¬
ly described under various forms, and in different attitudes.
These at length were mistaken for real transfigurations ;
and Vishnu was supposed to have appeared in different
shapes, which were styled Incarnations. In one of these
he is represented under the figure before mentioned, of a
princely person coming out of a fish. In another he ap¬
pears with the head of a boar, treading upon an evil dae¬
mon, which seems to be the same as the Typhon of the
Egyptians. On his head he supports a lunette, in which
are seen cities, towers, in short, all that the world contains.
In Baldaeus we have a delineation and history of this incar¬
nation. Kircher varies a little in his representation, yet
gives him a similar figure of the Deity, and styles him
Vishnu Barachater. By this I should think was signified Deluge, i#
Vishnu, “ the offspring of the fish.” The Brahmins say v>, fr
that there was a time when the serpent with a thousand
heads withdrew itself, and would not support the world,
it was so overburdened with sin. Upon this the earth
sunk in the great abyss of waters, and mankind and all
that breathed perished. But Vishnu took upon himself
the form above described, and diving to the bottom of the
sea, lifted up the earth out of the waters, and placed it,
together with the serpent of a thousand heads, upon the
back of a tortoise.
“ In the third volume of M. Perron’s Zendavesta, there
is an account given of the cosmogony of the Parsees; also
of the subsequent great events that ensued. The supreme
Deity, called by him Ormisda, is said to have accomplish¬
ed the creation at six different intervals. He first formed
the heavens, at the second the waters, at the third the
earth. Next in order were produced the trees and vege¬
tables ; in the fifth place were formed birds and fishes,
and the wild inhabitants of the woods ; and in the sixth
and last place he created man. The man thus produced
is said to be an ox-like person, and is described as consist¬
ing of a purely divine and a mortal part. For some time
alter his creation he lived in great happiness ; but at last
the world was corrupted by a daemon named Ahriman.
This daemon had the boldness to visit heaven, whence he
came down to the earth in the form of a serpent, and in¬
troduced a set of wicked beings called karsesters. By him
the first ox-like personage, called Aboudad, was so infect¬
ed that he died; after which Kaimorts, probably the di¬
vine part, of which the ox was the representative, died
also. Out of the left arm of the deceased proceeded a
being called Goschoraun, who is said to have raised a cry
louder than the shout of 1000 men. After some conver¬
sation between the supreme Deity and Goschoraun, it was
determined to put Ahriman to flight, and to destroy all
those wicked persons he had introduced ; for there now
seemed to be an universal opposition to the supreme
Deity Ormisda. At this season a second ox-like personage
is introduced by the name of Taschter. He is spoken of
both as a star and a sun. At the same time he is men-
tioned as a person upon earth under three forms. By
Taschter is certainly signified De Ashter, the same per¬
son whom the Greeks and Syrians represented as a female,
and called Astarte. She was described horned, and some¬
times with the head of a bull; supposed to proceed from
an egg ; and they esteemed her the same as Juno and the
moon. At last it was thought proper to bring an univer¬
sal inundation over the face of the earth, that all impurity
might be washed away ; which being accomplished by
Taschter, every living creature perished, and the eaith
was for some time entirely covered. At last, the waters
retreating within their proper bounds, the mountains of
Albordi in Ferakh-kand first appeared ; which the author
compares to a tree, and supposes that all other mountains
proceeded from it. After this there was a renewal of the
world, and the earth was restored to its pristine state.
The particular place where Ormisda planted the germina
from whence all things were to spring was Ferakh-kand,
which seems to be the land of Arach, the country upon
the Araxes, in Armenia.”
Thus we have given ample specimens of this authors
method of reasoning, and of discovering traces of the sacred
history even in things which have been thought to have the
least possible relation to it. That the Greeks and western
nations had some knowledge of the flood, has never been
disputed ; and from what has been already related, it ap¬
pears that the same has pervaded the remotest regions o
the east. The knowledge which these people have of the
fall of man, and the bitter consequences which ensued, can-
DEL
D>;£e-
not, according to Bryant, have arisen from their intercourse
with Christians ; for their traditions afford no traces of any
kind, either of Christianity or its founder. Whatever truths
may be found in their writings, therefore, must be deriv¬
ed from a more ancient source. “ There are,” says he,
“ in every climate some shattered fragments of original
history, some traces of a primitive and universal language ;
and these may be observed in the names of deit?es,
terms of worship, and titles of honour, which prevail amono-
nations widely separated, who for ages had no connection!
The like may be found in the names of pagodas and temples,'
and of sundry other objects which will present themselves
to the traveller.”
The accounts hitherto met with in the American conti¬
nent are far from being equally authentic and satisfactory
with those already treated of. In Acosta’s history of the
Indies, however, we are informed that the Mexicans
make particular mention of a deluge in their country, by
which all men were drowned. According to them, one
Viracocha came out of the great lake Titicaca in their
country. This person dwelt in Tiaguanaco, where at this
day are to be seen the ruins of some ancient and very
strange buildings; and thence he proceeded to Cusco,
where mankind began to multiply. They show also a
small lake, where they say the sun hid himself; for which
reason they sacrifice largely to him, both men and other
animals. Hennepin informs us that some of the savages
are of opinion that a certain spirit, called Otkon by the
Iroquois, and Atahauta by those at the mouth of the river
St Lawrence, is the creator of the world ; and that Messou
repaired it after the deluge. They say that this Messou
or Otkon, being a-hunting one day, his dogs lost them¬
selves in a great lake, which thereupon overflowing, cover¬
ed the whole earth in a short time, and swallowed up the
world. According to Herrera, the people of Cuba knew
that the heavens and the earth had been created, and
said they had much information concerning the flood, and
that the world had been destroyed by water by three per¬
sonages who came three several ways. Gabriel de Cabrera
was told by a man of more than seventy years of age that
an old man, knowing the deluge was to come, built a great
ship, and went into it with his family and abundance of
animals; that he sent out a crow, which did not at first
return, staying to feed on the carcases of dead animals,
but that she afterwards came back with a green branch.
He is said to have added other particulars nearly conso¬
nant to the Mosaic account. The same author likewise in¬
forms us that it was reported by the inhabitants of Castilla
del Oro, in Terra Firma, that when the universal deluge
happened, one man with his wife and children escaped in
a canoe, and that from them the world had been peopled.
The Peruvians likewise affirmed that they had received
by tradition from their ancestors, that, many years before
there were any incas or kings, when the country was very
populous, there happened a great flood ; the sea breaking
out beyond its bounds, so that the land was covered with
water, and all the people perished. To this it is added by
the Guancas, inhabiting the vale of Xausea, and the na¬
tives of Chiquito in the province of Callao, that some per¬
sons found shelter in the hollows and caves of the highest
mountains, who again peopled the land. Others again affirm
that all perished in a deluge, only six persons being saved
in a float, from whom are descended all the inhabitants of
that country. In NieuhofF’s voyages to Brazil we are inform¬
ed that the most barbarous of the Brazilians, inhabiting the
inland countries, scarcely knew any thing of religion or of an
Almighty Being. But they had some knowledge remaining
of a general deluge, it being their opinion that the whole
race of mankind were extirpated by a general deluge, except
one man and his sister, who being with child before, they
U G E. 69!
by degrees repeopled the world. M. Thevet gives us the Deluge,
creed of the Brazilians in this matter more particularly'.
n the opinion of these savages the deluge was universal.
I hey say that Summay, a Caribhee of great dignity, had
two children ^named lamendonare and Ariconte. Being
of contraiy dispositions, one delighting in peace and the
other in wai and rapine, they mortally hated each other.
One day Ariconte, the warrior, brought an arm of an enemy
whom he had encountered to his brother, reproaching him
at the same time with cowardice. But the other retorted by
telling, that if he had been possessed of the valour which
he boasted, he would have brought his enemy entire. On
this Ariconte threw the arm against the door of his bro¬
ther s house. At that instant the whole village was car¬
ried up into the sky; and Tamendonare striking the ground
with violence, a vast stream of water issued out from it,
and continued to flow in such quantity, that in a short
time it seemed to rise above the clouds, and the earth was
entirely covered. The two brothers seeing this, ascended
the highest mountains of the country, and with their wives
ascended the trees which grew upon them. By this deluge
all mankind, as well as all other animals, were drowned,
excepting the two brothers above mentioned and their
wives, who having descended when the flood abated, be¬
came the heads of two different nations.
1 o these American testimonies we may add another
from the remote and uncivilized island of Otaheite. Dr
Watson, in his discourse to the clergy, informs us, that
one of the navigators to the southern hemisphere having
asked some of the inhabitants of that island concerning
their origin, was answered, that their supreme God, a long
time ago. being angry, dragged the earth through the sea,
and their island, being broken off, was preserved. In the
East Indies, we are informed by Dr Watson that Sir
William Jones, by whom a society for the advancement
of Asiatic literature was instituted at Calcutta, discovered
in the oldest mythological books of that country such an
account of the deluge as corresponds sufficiently with that
of Moses.
The fact being thus established by the universal con¬
sent of mankind, that there was a general deluge which over¬
flowed the whole world, it remains next to inquire by what
means it may reasonably be supposed to have been accom¬
plished. There have been many speculations on the in¬
struments employed in bringing about this grand cata¬
clysm ; and a great division of opinion has existed as to the
effects which it might he expected to have produced on
the surface of the earth.
It has been asserted that a quantity of water was cre¬
ated on purpose, and at a proper time annihilated, by
divine power. This, however, besides its being absolutely
without evidence, is directly contrary to the words of the
sacred writer whom the supporters of this hypothesis mean
to defend. He expressly derives the waters of the flood
from two sources; first, the fountains of the great deep,
which he tells us were all broken open; and secondly, the
windows of heaven, which he says were opened: and
speaking of the decrease of the waters, he says, the foun¬
tains of the deep and the windows of heaven were stop¬
ped, and the waters returned continually from off the face
of the earth. Here it is obvious that Moses was so far from
having any difficulty about the quantity of water, that he
thought the sources whence it came were not exhausted;
since both of them required to be stopped by the s-ame
almighty hand which had opened them, lest the flood
should increase more than it actually did.
Dr Burnet, in his Telluris Theoria Sacra, endeavours
to show that all the waters in the ocean were not sufficient
to cover the earth to the depth assigned by Moses. Sup¬
posing the sea drained quite dry, and all the clouds of the
DELUGE.
atmosphere dissolved into rain, we should still, according
to him, want much the greater part of the water of a de¬
luge. To get rid of this difficulty, Dr Burnet and others
have adopted Descartes’ theory. That philosopher sup¬
poses the antediluvian world to have been perfectly round
and equal, without mountains or valleys. He accounts
for its formation on mechanical principles, by supposing it
at first in the condition of a thick turbid fluid, replete with
divers heterogeneous matters, which, subsiding by slow
decrees, formed themselves into different concentric strata
“ the windows of heaven being opened,” and particularly Deluge,
by the “ forty days rain.” Lastly, to remove this vast orb v—
of waters again, he supposes a mighty wind to have arisen,
which dried up some, and forced the rest into the abyss
through the clefts by which it came up; only a great
quantity remained in the alveus of the ocean, now first
formed, and in lesser seas, lakes, and the like. This the¬
ory was at first only proposed as an hypothesis; but, on
further consideration, Mr Whiston thought he could ac¬
tually prove that a comet did at that time p'ass very near
degrees, formed themselves into ^ ^ th> and that it was the same which afterwards ap-
or beds, in obedience to.the law neared in 1688. But the uncertainty of the comet’s re-
proves on this the0J'^y STCs^S t investing the sur- turn in 1758, and the absolute failure of that which ought
have been no moie than a she S central to have appeared in 1788 or 1789, must certainly render
a^llic "hTanZS™ suppos/to exist in the bowels of Mr Winstons calculations for such a length of time ex-
the earth. At the tune of ^^p^g^^nd conse- ^Mr Hutchinson and his followers present us with a the-
accordmg to him, broke in a J? ’ spouted ory of the deluge, which they pretend to derive from the
quently -nk down amo surface, wo^d of God ifself. This tfiiory has been particularly
up in vast ca“\s, *nd o cl enlarged upon and illustrated by Mr Catcot, who in 1768
th^e^nmtor wkh the ecliptic, and Jon- publifhed i volume on the subject. This gentleman as-
LL ^tiv that the antediluvian world enjoyed a perpe- serts, that when the world was first created, at the tune
sequently that the anted « of the gJh Jck b lwhich when it is said to have been “ without form and void, the
^ f^rruJt was broken shifted also the position of terrestrial matter was then entirely dissolved in the aque-
the oute i tPo nrpsont nhliauitv of the eclip- ous; so that the whole formed, as it were, a thick muddy
Ji‘G ^qVistheory it^vill be observed, is equally arbitrary water. The figure of this mass was spherical; and on the
• w^t, ^ afr ““Ihe” ouS7 "onTc^
Oto awhorsTupposing a sufficient fund of water in tion of light, the internal air received elasticity sufficient
,h?aW or sea a« only concerned for an expedient to to burst out through the external covering of earth and
the abyss or sea, are omy conce rprourse to a shift- water. Upon this the water descended, filled up the void,
Sf‘thetith^c^f grTvityTby whichl the Iter and left tL earth in a form similar to that which it has a,
^nr^t ^c^itg/era, parts of the ^ "’ScjS
eaMr WlflstJrTn'his^ir TArory of the Earth, shows, nucleus of water, called the great deep, or the abyss. The
Mr Whiston, in h\^ew f'J. JJ that a COmet de- breakingupofthesefountainswasoccasionedbyamiracu-
from several remark^fle coincidence^ thati^a cornet de brea gj^ ^ atmosphere> fr&m the immediate acd
scending in the plane of the eclipt c, I himself; and so violent was this pressure, that
must have passed just before thefear* °nwt“* 1 descended to where it had originall} been, occu-
earth, and would be at Us gr^.atesc , e^ , Rv thp on one Diace, 0r on a few places; and even though we
^ Vrthiftl^e.'Tnr^rb^e0^ traction of tl£ co-
met, he judges that the abyss must have assumed a > ^ , nressure of the water would im-
through those ho,es
of the earth, incumbent on the abyss, must accommodate which had afforded speculation that
by the violence of the tides and attraction i ana tnat ne anie ■ v -e-- - - f wa ami r0.
included water issuing thence was a great means of the which inundated
deluge, according to what Moses says ot the “• fountains ducing a dduvia wave °rjcg“^ Ia ^ , A. „f
es says or tne - louiuains uucmg a ....  .d-o - Anpvpntof
of the groat dec? being broken open.” Again, the same the ^ould very p^bably have
 nt towarus the sun, passed this kmd it cannot be disputed, wou y I ^
comet, he maintains, in its descent towaras the sun passed ^is Kin^ u g ^ ^ sudden
so close by the body of the earth, as to involve the la ter produced such an f ^ as the Andes to the
in its atmosphere and tail for a considerable time and of elevation ot such a^mouritamr ^ would dis_
consequence left a vast quantity of its vapouis, both ex- height o ’ , ’ f t J ric air not of water, and,
rfb^g rSt r M/df^ ifr were eufficienUy greaf,
up into the atmosphere, and afterwards return in violent might occasion a ^^UiatTe'Jan’pretend to ascer-
And this he takes to be what Moses intimates by It is not to be supposed that we can t
rains.
DELUGE.
Lge. tain any thing more on the subject than others have done.
J The following conjectures, however, may be offered as to
the manner in which the deluge might have happened,
without any violence to the established laws of nature.
If we consider the quantity of water requisite for the
purpose of the deluge, it will not appear so very extraor¬
dinary as has been commonly represented. The height of
the highest hills is thought not to exceed four or five
miles. It will therefore be deemed a sufficient allowance,
when we suppose the waters of the deluge to have been
four miles deep on the surface of the ground. Now it is
certain that water, or any other matter, when spread out
at large upon the ground, seems to occupy an immense
space in comparison of that which it does when contained
in a cubical vessel, or when packed together in a cubical
form. A cube of ten miles of water would very nearly over¬
flow two hundred and fifty-six square miles of plain ground
to the height of four miles. But if we take into account
the vast number of eminences with which the surface of
the earth abounds, the above-mentioned quantity of water
would cover a great deal more. If, therefore, we attempt to
calculate the quantity of water sufficient to deluge the
earth, we must make a very considerable allowance for
the bulk of all the hills upon its surface. But, to consider
this matter in its utmost latitude, the surface of the earth
is supposed by the latest computations to contain about
199,512,595 square miles. In order to overflow this sur¬
face to the height of four miles, there is required a pa¬
rallelepiped of water sixteen miles deep, and containing
49,878,148 square miles of surface. Now, considering the
immense thickness of the globe of the earth, it is by no
means improbable that this quantity of water might be con¬
tained in its bowels, without the necessity of any remark¬
able abyss or huge collection of water, such as most of our
theorists suppose to exist in the centre. It is certain that,
as far as the earth has been mined, it has been found, not
dry, but moist; nor have we any reason to imagine that it
is not at least equally moist to the centre. How moist it
really is cannot be known, nor can the quantity of water
requisite to impart to it the degree of moisture it has be
ascertained; but we are certain that it must be immense.
It was not, however, from the bowels of the earth alone
that the waters were discharged, but also from the air; for
we are assured by Moses that it rained forty days and forty
nights. But this source of the diluvian waters has been
considered as of small consequence by almost every one
who has written on the subject.
With reference to this subject we must observe, how¬
ever, that there is a very general mistake with regard to
the air, similar to that above mentioned regarding the earth.
Because the earth below our feet appears to our senses firm
and compact, therefore the vast quantity of water contain¬
ed even in the most solid parts of it, and which will readily
appear on proper experiment, is overlooked. In like man¬
ner, because the air does not always deluge with excessive
rains, it is also imagined that it contains but little water.
Because the pressure of the air is able to raise only thirty-
two feet of water on the surface of the earth, it is there¬
fore supposed that we may ascertain to what depth the
atmosphere could deluge the earth if it was to discharge
the whole water contained in it. But we know that the
pressure of the atmosphere has not the least connection
with the quantity of water which it contains. Nay, if there
is any connection, the air, as exhibited by the barometer,
seems to be lightest when it contains most water. For
these reasons we think that the quantity of water con¬
tained in the whole atmosphere ought to be considered as
indefinite, especially as we know that by whatever agent
it is suspended, that agent must counteract the force of
gravity, otherwise the water would immediately descend.
701
he above considerations render it at least probable Deluge,
that there is in nature a quantity of water sufficient to Wy-w'
deluge the world, provided it were applied to the purpose.
We must next consider, therefore, whether there be any
natural agent powerful enough to effect this purpose ; and
we shall take the phrases used by Moses in their most ob¬
vious sense. The breaking up of the fountains of the deep
we may reasonably suppose to have been the opening of
all passages, whether great or small, through which the
subterraneous waters could possibly discharge themselves
on the surface of the earth. The opening of the windows
ot heaven we may also suppose to be the pouring out of the
water contained in the atmosphere, through those invisible
passages by which it enters in such a manner as totally to
elude our senses, as v/hen water is absorbed by the air in
evaporation. As both these are said to have been opened
at the same time, it seems therefore probable that one na¬
tural agent was employed to do both. Now it is certain
that the industry of modern inquiry has discovered an
agent unknown to former ages, the influence of which is
so great, that with regard to this world, it may be said to
possess a kind of omnipotence. The agent.which we mean
is electricity. It is certain, that by means of it immense
quantities of water can be raised to a great height in the
air. I his is clearly proved by the phenomena of water¬
spouts. Mr korster relates, that he happened to see one
break very near him, and observed a flash of lightning to
proceed from it at the moment of its breaking. The con¬
clusion from all this is obvious. When the electric matter
was discharged from the water, it could no longer be sup¬
ported by the atmosphere, but immediately descended.
I hough water-spouts do not often appear in this country,
yet every one must have made an observation somewhat
similar to Mr Forster’s. In a violent storm of thunder and
rain, after every flash of lightning or discharge of electri¬
city from the clouds, the rain pours down with increased
violence; thus showing that the cloud having parted with
so much of its electricity, cannot longer be supported in
the form of vapour, but must descend in rain. It is not
indeed yet discovered that electricity is the cause of the
suspension of water in the atmosphere, but it is certain
that evaporation is promoted by electrifying the fluid to be
evaporated. It may therefore be admitted as a possibility,
that the electric fluid contained in the air may be the agent
by which it is enabled to suspend the water which rises
in vapour. If therefore the air be deprived of the due
proportion of this fluid, it is evident that rain must fall in
prodigious quantities.
Again, we are assured, from the most undeniable obser¬
vations, that electricity is able to swell up water on the
surface of the earth. This we can make it do even in our
trifling experiments ; and much more must the whole force
of the fluid be supposed capable of doing it, if applied to
the waters of the ocean, or to any others. The agitation
of the sea in earthquakes is a sufficient proof of this. It is
certain that at these times there is a discharge of a vast
quantity of electric matter from the earth into the air;
and that, as soon as this happens, all becomes quiet on the
surface of the earth.
From a multitude of observations, it also appears that
there is at all times a passage of electric matter from the
atmosphere into the earth, and, vice versa, from the earth
into the atmosphere. There is therefore no absurdity in
supposing the Deity to have influenced the action of the
natural powers in such a manner, that for forty days and
forty nights the electric matter contained in the atmosphere
should descend into the bowels of the earth: if indeed
there be occasion for supposing any such immediate influ¬
ence at all; since it is not impossible that there might have
been, from some natural cause, a descent of this matter
702
Deluge.
DELUGE.
from the atmosphere at that time. But by whatever cause
the descent was occasioned, the consequence would be,
the breaking open of the fountains of the deep, and the
opening of the windows of heaven. The water contained
in the atmosphere being left without support, would de¬
scend in impetuous rains; whilst the waters of the ocean,
those from which fountains originate, and those contained
in the solid earth itself, would rise from the very centre,
and meet the waters which descended from above. Ihus
the breaking up of the fountains of the deep, and the open-
ino- of the windows of heaven, would accompany each other,
as^Moses tells us they actually did ; for, according to him,
both happened at the same time.
In this manner the flood would come on gradually, with¬
out that violence to the globe which Burnet, \\ histon, and
other theorists, are obliged to suppose. The abatement of
the waters would ensue on the ascent of the electric fluid ;
the atmosphere would then absorb the water as formerly;
that which had ascended through the earth would again
subside; and thus every thing would return to its former
state.
Having thus shown in what manner an universal deluge
might have been produced by means of those natuial
agents with which we are at present acquainted, we shall
next consider some of those remarkable geological facts
which place it beyond a doubt, not only that that event
did happen, but that the deluge was universal. It has
long been a question, even before the commencement of
geological researches, whether the deluge mentioned in
Scripture was universal in reference to the whole surface
of the globe, or only so with respect to that portion of it
which was then inhabited by man. Vossius was of opinion,
that in the days of Noah, mankind had not extended them¬
selves beyond the borders of Syria and Mesopotamia ; and
no reason, says he, “ obliges us to extend the inundation
of the deluge beyond those bounds which were inhabited;
yea, it is altogether absurd to aver that the effect of a
punishment inflicted upon mankind only, should extend
to those places where no man lived. Although we should
therefore believe that part of the earth only to have been
overflowed by the waters which w^e have mentioned, and
which is not the hundredth part of the terrestrial globe,
the deluge will nevertheless be univeTsal oecumenical, since
the destruction was universal, and overwhelmed the whole
habitable world." . _
If such an interpretation were admissible, there are two
classes of phenomena in the configuration of the earth s
surface, which, according to Professor Lyell, might enable
us to account for such an event; first, extensive lakes ele-
vated above the level of the ocean; and, secondly, large
tracts of dry land depressed below that level. “ When
there is an immense lake, having its surface, like Lake Su¬
perior, raised six hundred feet above the level of the sea, the
waters may be suddenly let loose by the rending or sink¬
ing down of the barrier during earthquakes ; and hereby
a region as extensive as the valley of the Mississippi, in¬
habited by a population of several millions, might be de¬
luded. On the other hand, there may be a country placed
beneath the mean level of the ocean, as is the case with
certain parts of Asia ; and such a region must be entirely
laid under water, should the tract which separates it from
the ocean be fissured or depressed to a certain depth.
The oreat cavity of Western Asia is 13,000 square leagues
in area, and is occupied by a considerable population.
The lowest parts, surrounding the Caspian Sea, are three
hundred feet below the level of the Euxine; here, there¬
fore, the diluvial waters might overflow the summits of
hills rising three hundred feet above the level of the plain ;
and if depressions still more profound existed at any foi-
mer time in Asia, the tops of still loftier mountains may Le
have been covered by a flood.’ y—■
Pallas, and some of the geologists of his day, denied that
the summits of the hills had been covered by the deluge ;
for, according to his hypothesis, the mass of water requir¬
ed to surmount, or even to cover them all round the globe
could not be disposed of within the earth, even were its in¬
terior wholly made up of caverns. Had the deluge been of
this partial and transient description, we should have been
led to look for its effects only in certain situations ; in those
countries, in particular, which we know were inhabited by
antediluvian mortals. Such, however, is not the fact; the
distinct traces of its action being visible under innumer¬
able circumstances, and in almost every country on the
face of the globe. To what, we would ask, do those im¬
mense tracts of gravel and loam, so frequent in Prussia,
Denmark, and other parts of the European continent, and
in situations to which no torrents nor rivers now in ac¬
tion could ever have drifted them, owe their existence ?
Whence came those vast collections of fossil bones and
other animal remains so common in Siberia, in Behring’s
Strait, in the valley of the Arno in Tuscany, and in many
districts of Germany and England? How were the beds
of shells and other marine productions brought together
in such profusion, and raised to elevations which the sea-
breeze never reached ? By what means were those large
erratic boulders so common among the sand in the north
of Germany, and in numerous other places, removed from
their original position, and conveyed sometimes hundreds
of miles from any rock of a similar description ?
Dr Buckland, in his Reliquiae Diluviance, enumerates a
great many English localities where remains of the ele¬
phant, rhinoceros, hyena, and the other larger animals have
been met with. In Scotland and Ireland they have also
been occasionally found. At the village of Theide, near
Brunswick, a congeries of tusks, teeth, and bones, were
discovered in 1816, some of the former upwards of four¬
teen feet in length. Within the last ten years, parts of
the skeletons of at least a hundred hippopotami have been
discovered in the valley of the Arno, and placed in the
museum of Florence, along with numerous remains of
the rhinoceros and elephant, horse, ox, several species of
deer, hyena, bear, wolf, dog, tiger, tapir, hog, beaver,
mastodon, and fox. Over the frozen regions of Russia and
Siberia their dispersion is also nearly universal. There is
not, says Pallas, in all Asiatic Russia, from the Don to the
extremity of the promontory of Tchutchis, a stream or river
in the banks of which are not to be found the remains of
elephants and other animals, now strangers to that climate.
These are washed out by the violent floods arising from the
thaw of the snows, and have attracted universally the at¬
tention of the natives, who collect annually the elephants’
tusks, in order to sell them as ivory. Humboldt has also
noticed them in the plains of Mexico and in the province
of Quito. How is it possible, says Buckland, to explain the
general dispersion of all these remains, but by admitting
that the elephants, as well as all the other creatures
whose bones are buried with them, were the antediluvian
inhabitants of the extensive tracts of country over which
we have been tracing them, and that they were all de¬
stroyed together by the waters of the same inundation
which produced the deposits of loam and gravel in which
they are imbedded. ,
The diluvium of geologists is the name applied to those
deposits of loam and gravel which were formed by the
flood, in order to distinguish them from those which are in
daily and gradual progress, and commonly called alluvium-
The origin of the alluvial formations may be referred to
the action of torrents, rivers, and lakes, whilst to the pro¬
duction of the diluvial deposits no cause at present in
DEL
action is adequate ; and they can therefore only be refer¬
red to the waters of a sudden and transient deluge.
Immense deposits of diluvium have taken place in Hol¬
land, Denmark, Holstein, Pomerania, and along the south¬
ern shores of the Baltic. The whole coast, from the
Thames to the Tweed, consists of such deposits, being
composed principally of a tough bluish clay, through which
are dispersed irregularly pebbles of different sizes, and con¬
taining almost every description of rock. Much gravel
is accumulated in the midland counties of England, com¬
posed of the wreck of rocks of the most distant ages, and
which exist in their native state only in remote quarters
of the island.
The immense boulders, or erratic blocks as they are term¬
ed by geologists, which are met with in many parts of Eu¬
rope, frequently at the distance of several hundred miles
from any similar rocks existing in situ, alford evidences of a
stream having overflowed it, capable of overwhelming and
disregarding objects, and by which the Nile or the Ganges
would have been turned out of their course. In Great Bri¬
tain we have instances of this in almost every county. Pro¬
fessor Sedgwick, for instance, has remarked, that the blocks
of shap granite, which cannot be confounded with other
rocks in the north of England, are not only drifted over the
hills near Appleby, but have been rolled over the great cen¬
tral chain of England into the plains of Yorkshire—imbed¬
ded into the transported detritus of the Tees, and even car¬
ried to the eastern coast. Blocks of granite and syenite of
a very peculiar character have been drifted from the Criffle
Hill, in Galloway, across the Solway Frith, to the base of
the mountains in Cumberland. Large blocks of another
kind of granite have been transported in still greater num¬
bers from Ravenglass, on the coast of Cumberland, over
the plains of Lancashire, Cheshire, and Staffordshire, and
may be observed in masses of some tons weight to the
west of the towns of Macclesfield and Stafford, and be¬
tween Dudley and Bridgenorth. Numerous examples of
a similar description might be cited; but the most re¬
markable circumstance attending these erratic blocks is,
that they do not occur promiscuously throughout the
country, but invariably to the southward of the rock
whence they have been derived. From this it would ap¬
pear, and indeed it is now pretty generally admitted by
geologists, that the direction of the great flood was, in
this part of the world at least, from north to south. The
boulders on the east coast of England have, according
to Mr Philips, been derived both from Norway and from
Scotland ; and Dr Hibbert mentions boulders three or four
feet in height on the northern coasts of Shetland, which
do not correspond with any known rock of the country,
and were probably derived from the northward. If the
supposition that a mass of waters passed over Britain be
founded on probability, the evidences of such a passage
should be found in the neighbouring continent of Europe,
and the general direction of the transported substances
should be the same. Now this is precisely what is found
to be the case. In Sweden and Russia large blocks of rock
occur in great numbers, and no doubt can be entertained
that they have been transported from the north. In Swe¬
den the transported materials were observed by Brogniart
to run in lines, sometimes inosculating, but having a ge¬
neral direction from north to south. -Between Peters¬
burg and Moscow the erratic blocks are very numerous,
and consist of Scandinavian rocks. In some places, espe¬
cially in Esthonia, these blocks appear at greater or less
intervals, apparently owing to the form of the land at the
time of their transport: for they occur where escarpments
u G E.
presented themselves; whilst, in places where the land
sloped away, or became more or less horizontal, they dis¬
appear, thus seeming to show that the steep escarpments
caught them in their passage.1 In Eastern Prussia, and in
that part of Poland situated between the Vistula and the
Niemen, the granite blocks are abundant, and consist of
the same varieties as those found in Finland; and thence
westward over the whole of the north of Germany, we find
boulders whose origin is unequivocally Scandinavian. Thus
the hornblende blocks are from Southern and Western
Finland ; the quartzose blocks are exactly the same as the
rocks named fjall sandstein between Sweden and Norway ;
the porphyritic blocks are of the same mineralogical cha¬
racter as the porphyries of Elfdal in Sweden ; and some of
the granites contain even particles of orthite, a mineral
which has never been noticed anywhere except near Stock¬
holm and in the eastern district of the northern peninsula.
The same thing has been frequently observed in Ame¬
rica ; and there also these erratic blocks must have been
rolled from the northward. Between Lake Erie and Lake
Huron the woods are strewed with masses of gneiss, por-
phyry, conglomerate, and greenstone ; and the summits of
some of the highest hills in Nova Scotia, which are com¬
posed of slate, are also strewed with large boulders of
granite.
The hypothesis derived from the foregoing facts is fur¬
ther strengthened by the furrows and other marks on the
surface of many rocks, which have apparently been pro¬
duced by the attrition of heavy bodies, set in motion by a
great force of water in rapid movement. This pheno¬
menon was first noticed by Sir James Hall, whose elabo¬
rate paper on “ The Revolutions of the Earth’s Surface,”
published in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edin¬
burgh, has thrown more light upon this most difficult subject
than all the theories that were ever produced. It is well
known that the masses of rock carried down by a torrent
exhibit traces of that passage by scratches and abrasions of
various sorts upon such smooth surfaces as they may have
encountered by the way, and on which they could not fail
to act as grinders. Such appearances are exhibited on
a large scale in many parts of the world; the surfaces of
the rocks, to use the words of Sir James Hall, “ frequently
resembling that of a wet road, along which a number of
heavy and irregular bodies have been recently dragged ;
indicating that every block that passed, and every one of
its corners, had left its trace behind it.” In many cases
these furrows or scratches have been so deep, and are
scooped out on the surface of such hard rocks, as to have
resisted all the effects of the weather, and are seen in
situations that have been always exposed, sometimes many
yards in length. The most remarkable fact, however, is,
that these furrows are, with few exceptions, parallel; that
they run in one direction across a country; and that, in
conformity with what we might be led to expect from the
foregoing remarks, the direction is generally from north to
south. “ Occasionally,” observes Sir James Hall, “ single
scratches, and parallel sets of them, deviate by five or six
degrees from the general direction ; but the important
circumstance is, that such deviation is rare, the very great
majority of both sets agreeing in parallelism with each
other, and with the general direction, not only of the scoops
and grooves of the rock upon which they occur, but also
of the ridges and large features of the district.”
Sir James Hall’s observations, as illustrated in the paper
already mentioned, were made in the vicinity of Edin¬
burgh ; and from the direction ot the scratches on the
surface of Corstorphine Hill, united with other remarkable
1 De la Beche’s Geological Manual.
704
DEM
D E M
Denudes appearances in the form of the surrounding country, par-
11 ticularly in and around Edinburgh, the lengthened ridges
Demerara. on tj-)e eastern side of the Castle Hill, Arthur Seat, and
<*~~y~***/ Craigleith, he was induced to suppose (what indeed there
is no reason to disbelieve) that the general direction of
the great torrent was in these districts from west to east.
This, however, arose probably from local circumstances;
because, except in this part of the world, we are not aware
of any similar indications opposed to the facts already
stated. Generally speaking, indeed, they are strongly
conclusive; for even in the adjoining counties of Stirling
and Berwickshire, the current appears to have flowed from
the north-west. In Norway and Sweden, again, these
grooves on the bare surface of the gneiss are frequently
half an inch deep, may be traced for many hundred yards,
and, with the exception of some slight variations arising
from the slope of the mountains, always appear in a direc¬
tion from north to south. .
Another striking proof which these countries afford, is
the long ridges or mounds of sand which extend through¬
out them for many miles from north to south. These vary
much in breadth and in height, sometimes rising from forty
to sixty feet above the level of the surrounding plain, at
others disappearing for a time entirely; frequently cover¬
ing many acres, sometimes united with the adjoining fields ;
here dividing a small lake, like an artificial mound, there
forming a promontory jutting out from the side of a large
one. These ridges are particularly marked in the southern
portion of Sweden, where they intersect the provinces ofr)emei,
Wasteraes, Wermeland, Orebro, and Upland, in almost '
uninterrupted lines from their northern to their southern
extremities.
In fact, to use the characteristic language of Mr Weaver,
“ it seems impossible to consider the form of any large
portion of the surface of the earth, or to reflect even upon
the nature and disposition of its alluvial tracts, without
recognising the powerful agency of an agitated fluid in a
state of retrocession. The abrupt and curved outlines,
the fractured sinuosities of glens, defiles, and valleys, the
salient and re-entering angles, the plains—all betray its
course and moulding force. To ascribe such appearances
to a gradual degradation produced by the influence of
the atmosphere, and the current of streams, seems to be
assuming causes wholly inadequate to produce such ef¬
fects.” But in whatever way the crust of our globe had
been formed, or how numerous may have been the agents
made use of in producing it—whether its existence be due
to Neptunian or Plutonian action, or to agencies yet un¬
discovered and unknown—is for the Almighty Being who
formed it to decide. All that we know is, that every dilu¬
vial fact concurs in denoting one inundation, which over¬
whelmed the solid mass of the globe ; and unless we admit
that that inundation was not only universal, but that it
was the last catastrophe to which the earth has been ex¬
posed, it is impossible to explain those phenomena which
have been already ascertained.
DEMADES, an Athenian, who, from being a mariner,
became a great orator, and appeased Philip by his elo¬
quence, after the famous victory which the Macedonian
monarch gained over the Athenians at Chseronea in the
year b. c. 338.
DEMAIN, or Demesne, in Law, is commonly under¬
stood to be the lord’s chief manor place, with the lands
thereto belonging, vrhich he and his ancestors, time out ot
mind, have kept in their own manual occupation.
DEMBEA, a very extensive lake, situated in the heart
of Abyssinia, and supposed to be about 450 miles in cir¬
cumference. It contains many islands, one of which is of
considerable size, and is made a place of confinement for
state prisoners. The numerous streams which descend
from the mountains of Damot and Gojam flow into this
lake. The Bahr-el-Azrek, the great river of Abyssinia,
and often supposed to be the real Nile, falls into this lake
on the west, and issues out again on the south-east; and
it is remarked, that the stream may be distinguished
through the whole of its passage across this immense body
of water.
Dembea, a province of Abyssinia, wdiich includes all
the territory surrounding the great lake bearing its name.
On the north it comprehends that fertile tract in which
Gondar, the capital, is situated. On the east it embraces
Foggora, Dara, and Alata, and on the west the lands about
Waindaga and Dingleber. The whole region is fruitful,
and beautifully varied by mountains and plains.
DEMBO, an extensive district in the south-eastern part
of the kingdom of Congo, in Africa. It has been describ¬
ed as divided into the districts of Aembo, Angongo, and
Quingengo, but very little is known about it.
DEMERARA, or Demerary, a colony belonging to
Great Britain, in the northern part of South America. It
is now composed of what formerly constituted the two
governments of Demerara and Essequibo, both of which
having been permanently secured to Great Britain by the
peace of 1814, have been formed into one settlement, and
now constitute but one province. Stabroek, the principal
city, and the seat of the government, is in latitude 6° 46'
north, and 57° 45' west longitude from London. It is
bounded on the east by a line drawn from the mouth of
Albany Creek, which divides it from the British colony of
Berbice, and on the western side by the river Pomaron,
which divides it from Spanish Guyana. Its northern boun¬
dary is the Atlantic Ocean, and its southern is undeter¬
mined.
On this coast the tides rise to the height of from six¬
teen to twenty-four feet. The river Demerara has a bar
across its mouth, which prevents ships of large burden from
entering it. Vessels not drawing more than fourteen feet
may be loaded in the river, but those of greater draught
must complete their loading without the bar. At Stabroek
there are convenient wharfs towards the river, but they
are only safe for small craft to lie alongside them, on ac¬
count of the withdrawing of the tide and the declivity
of the bank. Vessels, therefore, are compelled to load
and discharge their cargoes in the middle of a rapid
stream. The other river, the Essequibo, has no bar, and
is easily entered by the largest merchant ships, but they
must also be loaded and unloaded in the stream. Although
the cultivation in Demerara at present exceeds that on the
Essequibo, yet the greater depth of water in the latter
river, and the absence of a bar at its entrance, will, at
no distant period, raise this settlement above that on the
former river. . „
The river Demerara is navigable for ships about htty
miles above Stabroek, and perhaps even higher; but as
there are no plantations at a greater distance, no accurate
survey of it has been taken. At 130 miles from its mouth
are considerable cataracts, beyond which the Europeans
have not explored its course; but the Arrowauk Indians,
who descend in large canoes, represent it as accessib e
above the cataracts to a much greater distance than the
latter are from the sea. Information respecting the river
Essequibo is equally obscure. About sixty miles from its
mouth it is divided into three branches, the easternmost o
which proceeds from the supposed lake Parima, on w ic
pem ^
demerara.
the imaginary city of El Dorado was expected to be found.
Another branch, called the Cayonny, is supposed to be oc¬
casionally connected with the river Orinoco; but the woods
are so difficult of access, the swamps so extensive, the
country so unhealthy, and the inhabitants so irritable/ that
probably many years must elapse before our geographers
can become acquainted with the origin and courses of
the vast rivers which water the whole of Guyana.
The first settlements on the river Essequibo were made
by the Dutch in 1706, and those on the Demerara in 1746.
But the colonies made very slow progress in cultivation
for a long period after their first establishment, and even
in their origin a considerable portion of the largest capi¬
tals was furnished by British subjects. They continued
to languish during the first few years after their settle¬
ment, solely from the want of capital, since the fertility of
the soil seems to have been known from the commence¬
ment. In the year 1781 they surrendered to a small
British squadron, but at the conclusion of the peace in
1783 they were given back to the Dutch. In 1796 they
were again taken, and at the peace of Amiens again given
up. During this latter period very considerable British
capitals had been embarked in the cultivation of the colo¬
ny, the proprietors of which became much embarrassed by
its cession; but the progress of improvement was scarcely
arrested when, the war again breaking out, it was surren¬
dered to a British armament, which, though incompetent
to take forcible possession, was sufficient to justify the sur¬
render of its willing inhabitants. As the progress of the
settlement had been principally owing to British capital,
it seemed but just that it should be permanently ceded to
the nation with which it was most intimately connected,
and from which its prosperity had arisen ; and accordingly
it was given up permanently to Great Britain.
Though all the tropical productions are raised in De¬
merara with great facility, the principal articles, sugar,
coffee, and cotton, seem to be more exclusively produced
than in our other colonies. Of late .the improvements
made in their sugars have been considerable, and the cul¬
tivation of this article at present predominates over that
of any other.
Provisions for the maintenance of the negro population
are wholly raised within the colony; a circumstance which,
combined with the great fertility of the soil, gives such a
superiority over the islands which have been long culti¬
vated, that if the removal of the slaves from one colony to
another were allowed, now that Demerara is become per¬
manently British, a very large proportion of the negroes
from the islands would be immediately transferred by their
masters to form new plantations on the banks of the Ber-
bice, the Demerara, and the Essequibo.
Demerara enjoys, in common with the rest of the co¬
lonies in Guyana, another advantage over the islands, in
the abundance of timber furnished by its forests. The trees
on the low grounds, near the settled parts, are, indeed, of
such hard wood, as to be worked with difficulty; but they
supply all the staves necessary for sugar casks. Other
kinds of timber for rum puncheons and for buildings are
at present imported from North America ; but by ascend¬
ing to a higher level of country, a sufficiency of proper
trees might be cut down, and conveyed by the river, in
order to supersede the necessity of depending on impor¬
tation.
Though situated almost under a vertical sun, the coun¬
try is more healthy than any of the islands, which pro¬
bably arises from the greater equality of the temperature.
The constant regularity of the trade-winds during the day,
and of the land-breezes which succeed them in the even¬
ing, joined to the invariable length of the nights, with
their refreshing dews, renders the heat far from excessive;
VOL. VII.
705
and Europeans find it less oppressive than even in Barba-Demerara.
islands 1C * 18 accounte(* ^ rnost temperate of all the
The only division of seasons known is the wet and the
dry, each of which occurs twice in the year, and continues
about three months. In the month of May the showers
begin, and gradually increase until the month of June
when the rains become incessant, frequently accompa¬
nied with the most violent thunder. In the beginning of
July the ram gradually diminishes, and entirely ceases by
the commencement of August. The same course is ob¬
served as the sun approaches the tropic of Capricorn ; but
the rains are of shorter duration, and of less force, than
when the sun advances towards the tropic of Cancer, and
are seldom attended with any thunder. From the pecu¬
liar character of the seasons, the operations of agriculture
proceed with equal steps, and each half of the year is alike
favourable for planting and harvesting the produce.
Ihe soil in this colony is perhaps equal in fertility to
any in the world. It has a blue marly appearance, mixed
in part with the remains of sea-shells, and has been trans¬
ported as manure for the lands in Barbadoes which had
been previously exhausted. It has been known to pro¬
duce thirty crops of rattoon canes in succession, without
replanting, whereas in the islands they seldom calculate
on more than two. The cultivators have had recourse to
various experiments for diminishing the excessive richness
of the soil. Ihis is sometimes effected by cropping it
for two or three years with plantains, and afterwards with
sugar canes ; but the first, second, and sometimes even
the third crop of canes are so luxuriant as to be unfit to
make sugar, and are therefore used only for rum.
The whole of the cultivated land, extending about fifty
miles from the sea-shore inwards, is flat and level, with¬
out a single hill, and so low, that during the heavier rainy
season it is frequently covered with water to the depth
of two feet. This produces an effect similar to the proli¬
fic overflowing of the Nile. It deposits a rich muddy clay,
which has formed a stratum of twelve or fourteen inches
in depth, and is perhaps the cause of the fertility which
we have already noticed.
From this low situation of the ground, the planters have
been compelled, in bringing the land into cultivation, to
surround it on two sides with deep dikes, to convey the
water to the river, and to construct sluices, which resist
the tides, and prevent the sea-water from flooding their
lands. Besides those trenches which convey the back¬
water from the plantations, each estate is intersected with
smaller trenches, by means of which, in small flat-bottom¬
ed boats, the whole conveyance of the produce from one
part of the estate to another is effected. The canes are
thus carried from the field to the sugar-mill and the still-
house, which much diminishes the labour of horses and
mules. The plantations are divided into beds of thirty-
two feet in breadth. Between each of these is a small
trench or ditch, dug two feet in width and three feet in
depth; the mould which is removed in forming these
ditches is thrown on the beds, which are thus raised above
the natural level of the surface. On these beds the cot¬
ton trees are planted in rows six feet distant in the rich¬
est soil, and where it is supposed to be less rich at a some¬
what greater distance. The coffee-trees are planted in rows
from nine to twelve feet asunder, and as they only flourish
under the shade, the intermediate spaces are filled either
by plantain trees, or the bois immortel, which grows to the
height of twelve or fourteen feet.
The aboriginal inhabitants, whether Caribbs or Arro-
wauks, have no disposition to labour. They are of feeble
frame and indolent disposition; and as they obtain the
means of subsistence with little effort, no inducements are
4 u
706
DEMERARA.
Dem-rara. likely to lead them from their accustomed roving and
‘ independent life, to those settled and quiet habits which
cultivation requires. The present utility of the Indians to
the colony arises principally from the aversion and even
hatred which subsists between the Indian and negro races.
This converts them into useful allies whenever an insur¬
rection of the negroes is contemplated or commenced,
and prevents the desertion of the latter, from the know¬
ledge that, if they escape into the woods, they can scarce¬
ly avoid being captured by the roving Indians, and con¬
ducted back to receive from their masters the assigned
punishment. The Indian tribes bordering on this colony
have often been described; we shall therefoie only say
respecting them, that their numbers are small, and gia-
dually diminishing, and that when they visit the Euro¬
peans on the coast, they appear mild and gentle towards
them, but discover, by every significant symptom, their
hatred and contempt for the negroes, with whom nothing
can 'induce them to associate, except the thirst for spirit¬
uous liquors, to the use of which they are addicted, with
all the characteristic greediness common among savages.
The government of the colony has not been inattentive
to that important branch of internal policy \yhich regards
roads, bridges, embankments, and sewers for draining.
The roads are kept in excellent order, and by the help of
a sewer tax the other rural public works are maintained
on a respectable and beneficial footing.
By the terms of the capitulation, the Dutch colonial
laws are in force in this settlement. At first the Dutch
proprietors were the most considerable, and consequently
ft was but right that they should be ruled by laws with
the forms and principles of which they were familiarly ac¬
quainted. As the British proprietors have increased, and
now far outnumber the Dutch, the same laws have been
continued. They are so interwoven with all the institu¬
tions and habits of the colonists, and the security ot the
property so much depends upon them, that no consider¬
able alteration could be made without rendering the right
to much of the property unsettled; therefore it is pro¬
bable they will continue unchanged, especially as it is
allowed by all the colonists, that, when honestly and skil¬
fully administered, the laws of Blolland are well calculated
for the circumstances of the country. W hen the colony
first came into possession of the British, the pioceedings
in the courts of law were all carried on in the Dutch lan¬
guage ; and this created suspicion in the British inhabit¬
ants, whether well or ill founded, that no justice could be
obtained in the courts between a British and a Dutch liti-
o-ant. Since the colony has become permanently attach¬
ed to the British government, the English language has
been ordered to be used in all law proceedings, as well as
by the advocates in their pleadings; and though this has
produced the whimsical exhibition of Dutch lawyers stu¬
dying the English language, and English lawyers study¬
ing Dutch law, yet the practice has succeeded so far as to
reconcile the inhabitants to the system, and to inspire
them with confidence in its purity.
The governor of Demerara is maintained by a salary
drawn from England. The internal government is sup¬
ported by taxes paid by the inhabitants. Besides that
paid for keeping the sewers and dikes in repair, which has
been already noticed, an annual tax of about 5s. sterling
on each slave is levied. The accounts are kept in Dutch
money, and exchanged in their European transactions into
sterling money at very variable rates of exchange. A
quantity of silver, colonial money, has been coined in Eng¬
land for the use of the province, and this forms the cur¬
rent coin in all small transactions. The value of the pieces
are about 3s. and they are found highly convenient in the
exchanges of property within the colony.
The free inhabitants of the colony, including whites, Demem
mulattoes, and manumitted blacks, scarcely exceed 3000,
or not more than one in twenty to the number of slaves,
—a larger disproportion than exists in mos.t of our colo¬
nial islands. The greater part of these are in Stabroek,
the capital, which is the seat of government, and the
head-quarters of the armed force. It is a small town, de¬
fended by a fort; its inhabitants of all kinds amount to
about 5000. The custom-house is established at this
place, but the fees, notwithstanding all the care of the
commissioners who lately went from England to regulate
them, are still enormous.
The slave population of this colony has recently de¬
creased with a rapidity which can only be accounted for
on the supposition that sales of slaves have been effected
to a considerable extent. In the half year ending the
30th June 1828, the total number of slaves returned
amounted to 62,352, of whom 34,106 were males and
28,246 females; but by the 31st December 1828, the to¬
tal number returned w as only 61,626, thus showing a de¬
crease in six months of 726. Again, by returns reaching
to the 15th January 1830, the total number of slaves
throughout the colony at that period is stated at 59,492,
which number, as compared with that furnished by the
returns for the first half of 1828, exhibits a decrease of
2833 slaves in little more than eighteen months. During
the same period we also observe a considerable diminu¬
tion in the number of offences committed by, and punish¬
ments inflicted on, the slave population. In 1828, out of
62,352 slaves, 10,054, of whom 6092 were males and 3962
females, underwent punishment for various offences; but,
in 1829, out of 59,492 slaves, the number of those who
suffered punishment was only 8649, of whom 5682 were
males and 2967 females; thus exhibiting a larger propor¬
tional diminution in the number of offences and punish¬
ment than in that of the total slave population. It appears
from the printed returns that the average number of
stripes inflicted in cases of punishment by whipping did
not exceed twenty.
As no part of this colony has been explored with much
attention beyond the limits of the cultivation of sugar,
coffee, and cotton, we know but little of the mineral history
of the country. Above the cataracts there is abundance
of red and white agates, which remain untouched by the
natives, from superstitious fears, which represent them
as dedicated solely to the service of some magical invoca¬
tion practised by their priests. There are likewise a vari¬
ety of stones, which appear to contain valuable ores, and
probably gold and silver may be hereafter discovered. It
is possible that the stories collected by Sir Walter Raleigh
from the concurrent reports of various natives, though
greatly exaggerated, may not have been altogether with¬
out foundation. We are, however, very ignorant on this
subject, and there is no immediate prospect of our igno¬
rance being removed.
The cacao, coffee, plantain, banana, and cocoa trees
have been so often described, that any extended notice of
them would be unnecessary. The trees peculiar to this
country deserve to be shortly noticed. The pigeon or
Angola pea tree is a branchy shrub, about nine feet high,
covered with smooth, long, and narrow-pointed leaves. Its
flowers are of the papilionaceous kind, and are succeeded
by numerous pods, of a russet colour, shaped like those ot
the English pea, but rather more flat. These are divided
into four or five cells containing the peas, which, though
somewhat astringent, are agreeable and nutritious. I e
Arnotta or Boucou tree is usually about nine feet in heignt,
with long, narrow, green leaves, disposed in alternate order,
while the middle and transverse ribs are of a red colour.
The flowers are pentapetalous, and of a bluish-yellow co-
tr1^
DEM
Eira. lour. From the middle of the petals rises a style con-
^ taining the embryo of the pods, which incloses that con¬
taining the seeds. These, when ripe, are covered with a
beautiful crimson pulp. The seeds macerated in the
juice of lemons, in which the gum of the manna tree has
been dissolved, yields the celebrated pigment with which
the natives decorate their bodies. The vegetable musk
plant is about four feet high; it produces a pod whose
cavities are filled with small oval seeds of a dark-brown
colour. These diffuse the smell of musk, and are replete
with an oil used as a specific for the bite of the venomous
snakes, and for that purpose taken internally, as well as
applied externally to the wounded part. The silk cotton
tree is about a hundred feet in height and twelve feet
in circumference ; its trunk continues undivided to seven¬
ty or eighty feet from the ground. Within a pod of a
conical form, about four inches in length, is contained a
short fine silky filament, the crops of which are triennial.
The trunks of the trees, hollowed by fire, furnish canoes
to the Indians, frequently of seventy or eighty feet in
length. Gum Anime is the product of a tree forty feet
in height, with few leaves, and these near the top; they
are small, of a dark-green colour, and oval. From inci¬
sions made in this tree, a whitish resinous gum exudes,
with a grateful smell and pleasant taste. It is used by
the natives as a remedy for pains in the stomach, rheu¬
matism, and headaches, and in Europe for varnishing car¬
riages. Troolies are perhaps the largest leaves which
have been hitherto noticed. Each leaf is supported by a
single stem, rising immediately from the root, which runs
through the whole of its length. These stems are very
strong, being about three inches in circumference at the
root, and they gradually taper to the termination of the
leaf. The fibres are strong, and closely connected from
one end to the other, without any sections or divisions.
Ten or twelve of these leaves usually grow in one cluster.
They are commonly from twenty to thirty feet in length.
The flowers are clusters of a yellowish white, and produce
a great number of large globular nuts, covered with a
thick, hard, black shell, through which there is a hole to
the kernel. It resembles a hand grenade in weight, size,
and hardness. As the leaves of this singular plant will
last many years, they are used for the covering of the
houses, and are found to be a protection against the most
violent rain.
The most common animals of Demerara are those the
original races of which were imported from the ancient
continent; horses, asses, cows, sheep, and hogs. These
scarcely differ from the same animals in Europe, except¬
ing that the sheep, as in all the tropical countries, have
their wool converted into hair.
The native goat of Guyana is of a much smaller size
than the goat of Europe; its hair is similar, its horns are
slender and incurvated downwards, and it is more prolific
than the European breed, usually producing from three to
five kids at each birth. There are two kinds of deer, one
of the same size as those of Europe, the other about one
third less. They feed on the meadows, and approach
i very near to the plantations, but, being very active and
fleet, they can with difficulty be caught, unless they get
into the rivers, when they are easily taken by the Indians.
The two kinds of wild hogs, the pecary and the warre, are
very abundant; the former having on its back a gland,
formerly mistaken for its navel, which secretes a milky
liquid of a musk-like smell, and which, unless removed the
instant it is taken, communicates its flavour to the whole
carcass, rendering it disgusting to European palates.
The monkeys of all kinds are very numerous, from the
ourang-outang, the largest, to the sacca winkee, which,
exclusively of its tail, does not exceed six inches in length;
DEM 707
its tail is about nine inches long. The tigers, which are Demetria
neither so strong nor so fierce as those of Africa, frequent- ||
ly make incursions into the plantations, and carry away•^eme^rfus•
hogs, sheep, and other domesticated animals, and some-
times attack, and even destroy men.
The diseases to which the inhabitants are subject differ
but little from those experienced in other tropical coun¬
tries ; but the leprosy is much more frequent, and more
violent, than it is known to be in any other situation. It
is supposed to be highly infectious, and those afflicted with
it are carefully sequestered from society in remote situa¬
tions in the forest. The yellow fever, though it has some¬
times visited Demerara, has been less extensive and less
fatal than in the more northern parts of America, whether
insular or continental.
{Natural History of Guiana, London, 1769; Boling-
broke’s Voyage to Demerary, 1807 ; Stedman’s Surinam,
1806; Parliamentary Papers, 1830, 1831.)
DEMESNE. See Domain.
DEMETRIA, a festival in honour of Ceres, called by
the Greeks Demeter. The votaries of the goddess lashed
themselves with whips made of the bark of trees. The
Athenians celebrated a festival of the same name in honour
of Demetrius Poliorcetes.
DEMETRIUS, a son of Antigonus and Stratonice, sur-
named Poliorcetes, or the Taker of Cities. At the age of
twenty-two he was sent by his father against Ptolemy,
who had invaded Syria, and he was defeated near Gaza;
but he soon repaired his loss by a victory which he ob¬
tained. over one of the generals of the enemy. He after¬
wards sailed with a fleet of two hundred and fifty ships
to Athens, and restored the Athenians to liberty, by free¬
ing them from the power of Cassander and Ptolemy, and
expelling the garrison which had been stationed there
under Demetrius Phalereus. After this successful expe¬
dition he besieged and took Munychia, and defeated Cas¬
sander at Thermopylae. His reception at Athens, after
these victories, was attended with the greatest servility,
and the Athenians were not ashamed to raise altars to
him as a god, and to consult his oracles. This uncommon
success roused the jealousy of the successors of Alexan¬
der ; and Seleucus, Cassander, and Lysimachus, united to
destroy Antigonus and his son. The hostile armies met
at Ipsus, 299 years before the Augustan age : Antigonus
was killed in the battle ; and Demetrius, after sustaining
a severe loss, retired to Ephesus. This reverse of for¬
tune raised him many enemies; and the Athenians, who
had lately adored him as a god, refused even to admit him
into their city. But he soon afterwards ravaged the ter¬
ritory of Lysimachus, and reconciled himself to Seleucus,
to whom he gave his daughter Stratonice in marriage.
Athens now laboured under tyranny, but Demetrius re¬
lieved it, and pardoned the inhabitants their former mis¬
conduct. The loss of his possessions in Asia recalled him
from Greece, and he established himself on the throne of
Macedonia by the murder of Alexander the son of Cas¬
sander. But here he was continually at war with the
neighbouring states; and the superior power of his adver¬
saries obliged him to leave Macedonia, after he had sat
on the throne for seven years. He passed into Asia, and
attacked, with various success, some of the provinces of
Lysimachus; but famine and pestilence destroyed the
greater part of his army, and he retired to the court of
Seleucus to seek support and assistance. Here he met
with a kind reception; but, nevertheless, hostilities soon
broke out; and after he had gained some advantages over
his son-in-law, Demetrius was totally forsaken by his troops
in the field of battle, and became an easy prey to the
enemy. But although he was kept in confinement by
his son-in-law, yet he maintained himself like a prince,
708
DEM
DEM
Demi.
Demetrius and passed his time in hunting, and in every laborious
exercise. His son Antigonus offered Seleucus all his pos¬
sessions, and even his person, in order to procure his fa¬
ther’s liberty; but all proved unavailing, and Demetrius
died in the fifty-fourth year of his age, after a confine¬
ment of three years, about 286 years before Christ. His
remains were given to Antigonus, honoured with a splen¬
did funeral at Corinth, and thence conveyed to Deme-
trias. His posterity remained in possession of the Mace¬
donian throne till the time of Perseus, who was conquered
by the Romans. Demetrius rendered himself famous by
his fondness for dissipation when amongst the dissolute,
and by his love of virtue and military glory in the field or
battle. He has been commended as a great warrior; and
his ingenious inventions, his warlike engines, and stupen¬
dous machines in the war with the Rhodians, justify his
claims to that character. He has, however, been blame
for his voluptuous indulgences; and his biographer ob¬
serves that no Grecian prince had more wives and concu¬
bines than Poliorcetes. His obedience and reverence to
his father have been justly admired; and it has been ob¬
served, that Antigonus ordered the ambassadors of a fo¬
reign prince particularly to remark the cordiality and
friendship which subsisted between the parent and his
child. . . ...
Demetrius Phalereus, an orator and Peripatetic philo¬
sopher, was the scholar of Theophrastus. He acquired
so much authority at Athens, that he governed the city
for ten years, and ruled with so much wisdom and virtue
that they set up thirty-six statues in honour of him. By
the slanders of some malicious persons in his absence, he
was, however, condemned to death, and his images were
pulled down ; but when Demetrius heard it, he remarked,
they could not pull down that virtue in honour of which
those images had been set up. He escaped into Egypt,
and was protected by Ptolemy Lagus. This king, it is
said, asked his advice concerning the succession of his
children to the throne, whether he ought to prefer those
whom he had had by Eurydice, to Ptolemy Philadelphus,
whom he had had by Berenice ; and Demetrius advised
him to leave his crown to the former. This displeased
Philadelphus so much, that when his father died, he ba¬
nished Demetrius; and the unfortunate exile was after¬
wards killed by the bite of an asp. Demetrius composed
more works in prose and in verse than any other peripa¬
tetic of his time ; and his writings consisted of poetry,
history, politics, rhetoric, harangues, and accounts of em¬
bassies. But none of them are extant except his rhetoric,
which is usually printed among the Rhetores Selecti.
Demetrius, a Cynic philosopher, and disciple of Apol¬
lonius Tyanaeus, who lived in the age of Caligula. The
emperor wished to gain the philosopher to his interest by
a large present; but Demetrius refused it with indigna¬
tion, and said, “ If Caligula wishes to bribe me, let him
send me his crown.” Vespasian was displeased with his
insolence, and banished him to an island. The Cynic de¬
rided the punishment, and bitterly inveighed against the
emperor. He died in a great old age; and Seneca ob¬
serves, that nature had brought him forth to show man¬
kind that an exalted genius can live securely, without
being corrupted by the vices of the world.
DEMI (formed from dimidiim), a word used in compo¬
sition with other words to signify half
DEMi-Attici, boroughs or larger villages of Attica. The
Athenian tribes were distinguished into Demi. Homer,
in his catalogue, distinguishes the Athenians by the appel¬
lation of Demos. When Theseus prevailed on them to
quit the country and to settle at Athens, they still con¬
tinued to frequent the demi, and to perform there their
several religious ceremonies.
Demi-Gorge, in Fortification, is that part of the polygon Demi,
which remains after the flank is raised, and which stretch- Gorge
es from the curtain to the angle of the polygon. It is half II
of the vacant space or entrance into a bastion. Democri.
Demi- Quaver, a note in music, two of which are equal
to a quaver.
Demi-Semiquaver, in music, the shortest note, two of
them being equal to a semiquaver.
DEMISE, in Law, is applied to an estate either in fee
simple, fee tail, or for a term of life or years ; and so it is
commonly taken in many writs. The king s death is in
law termed the demise of the king.
Demise and Redemise, denote a conveyance where there
are mutual leases made from one to another of the same
land, or something out of it.
DEMIURGE (from 5^/os, which denotes a 'public ser¬
vant, and sgyov, work), in the mythology of the eastern
philosophers, was one of the ^Fons employed by the su¬
preme Deity in the creation of the world. He is repre¬
sented as claiming dominion over the new world he had
formed, and totally excluding the supreme Deity from all
concern in it.
DEMMIN, a city of the Prussian Pomeranian province
of Stettin, situated on the river Peene, and containing
391 houses, with 3968 inhabitants. It carries on some
shipping trade.
DEMOCRACY (from Stj/aoc, people, and jcgom/v, to com¬
mand or govern), the same with a popular government, in
which the supreme power is lodged in the hands of the
people. Such were the governments of Rome and Athens
of old ; but the most perfect example of democracy is
afforded by the United States of North America at the
present day, the government of which, for the security it
gives, the good order it preserves, the small burdens it
imposes, and the judgment with which its foreign and
domestic policy has been conducted, deserves to be con¬
sidered as one of the best and wisest in the world.
DEMOCRITUS, one of the greatest philosophers of
antiquity, was born at Abdera, a town of Thrace, about
the 80th Olympiad, that is, about 460 years before Christ.
His father, says Valerius Maximus, was able to entertain
the whole army of Xerxes; and Diogenes Laertius adds,
upon the testimony of Herodotus, that the king, in requi¬
tal, presented him with some Magi and Chaldeans. From
these Magi and Chaldeans Democritus received the rudi¬
ments of his education ; and from them also, whilst yet a
boy, he learned theology and astronomy. He next applied
to Leucippus, and acquired from him a knowledge of the
system of atoms and a vacuum. When his father died,
the three sons, for there were so many of them, divided
the estate. Democritus made choice of that part which
consisted in money, as being, though the least share, the
most convenient for travelling; and it is said that his
portion amounted to above a thousand talents, or about
L.20,000 sterling. Plis extraordinary inclination for the
sciences and for knowledge induced him to travel into all
parts of the world where he hoped to find learned men.
He went to visit the priests of Egypt, from whom he
learned geometry; he consulted the Chaldean and the
Persian philosophers; and it is said that he penetrated
even into India and Ethiopia, to confer with the gymno-
sophists. In these travels he wasted his substance, atter
which, at his return, he was obliged to be maintained by
his brother ; and if he had not given proofs of the great¬
est understanding, and thereby procured for him set It tie
highest honours, and the strongest interest of his country,
he would have incurred the penalty of that aw which de¬
nied interment in the family sepulchre to those who had
wasted their patrimony. After his return from his tra¬
vels, he lived at Abdera, and governed there in a mos
Dei ivre
Derate.
^•>w,
DEM
absolute manner, by means of his consummate wisdom.
The magistrates of that city made him a present of five
hundred talents, and erected statues to him even in his
lifetime; but being naturally more inclined to contem¬
plation than delighted with public honours and employ¬
ments, he withdrew into solitude and retirement. Demo¬
critus incessantly laughed at human life as a continued
farce, and he carried this so far that the inhabitants of
Abdera thought him mad, and sent Hippocrates to cure
him; but that celebrated physician having discoursed
with the philosopher, told the Abderians that he had a
great veneration for Democritus, and that, in his opinion,
those who esteemed themselves the most healthy were the
most distempered. Democritus died, according to Dio¬
genes Laertius, in the 361st year before the Christian era,
aged a hundred and nine years. It is said that he put out
his eyes, in order that he might meditate more profound¬
ly on philosophical subjects; but this is by no means pro¬
bable. He was the author of many books, which are lost,
but from which Epicurus borrowed his philosophy.
DEMOIVRE, Abraham, an eminent mathematician,
was born at Yitry, in Champagne, on the 26 th of May 1667.
The revocation of the edict of Nantz, in 1685, determined
him to fly into England rather than abandon the religion
of his fathers. Having laid the foundation of his mathe¬
matical studies in France, he perfected himself at Lon¬
don, where a mediocrity of fortune obliged him to employ
his talents in this way, and to read public lectures for his
support. The Principia Mathematica of Newton, which
chance threw in his way, made him comprehend at once
how little he had advanced in the science which he pro¬
fessed. But he fell to work with vigour; succeeded as he
went along; and soon became connected with and distin¬
guished among the first-rate mathematicians. His emi¬
nence and abilities opened to him an entrance into the
Royal Society of London, and afterwards into the acade¬
mies of Berlin and Paris. His merit was so well known
and acknowledged by the Royal Society, that they judg¬
ed him a fit person to decide the famous contest between
Newton and Leibnitz concerning the invention of fluxions.
The collection of the academy of Paris contains no me¬
moir of this author, who died at London on the 27th of
November 1754, soon after his admission into that body;
but the Philosophical Transactions of London contain se¬
veral of his papers, all of them interesting. He also pub¬
lished some excellent works, such as Miscellanea Analytical
de Seriebus et Quadraturis, 1730, in 4to. But perhaps he
has been more generally known by his Doctrine of Chances,
or Method of calculating the Probabilities of Events at
Play. This work was first printed in 1618, in 4to, and de¬
dicated to Sir Isaac Newton ; it was reprinted in 1738, with
great alterations and improvements; and a third edition
was afterwards published with additions. He likewise"
gave to the world a Treatise on Annuities, 1724. in 8vo,
dedicated to Lord Carpenter.
DEMONSTRABLE, a term used in the schools to sig¬
nify that a thing may be clearly proved. Thus it is de¬
monstrable that the three angles of a plane triangle are
equal to two right ones.
DEMONSTRATION, in Logic, a series of syllogisms,
whose premises are either definitions, self-evident truths,
or propositions already established. See Logic.
DEMONSTRATIVE, in Grammar, a term given to
such pronouns as serve to indicate or point out a thing.
Of this number are hie, here, hoc, and die, ilia, Mud, among
the Latins; and this, that, these, those, in English.
DEMONTE, a town of Italy, in the province of Coni,
in the kingdom of Sardinia. It stands on the river Stura,
and contains 6000 inhabitants. Near to it are some mines
of lead, which are extensively worked.
DEM 709
DEMOSTHENES, the famous Athenian orator, was Demos-
born at Athens in the year b. c. 381. He lost his fa- thenes.
ther at the early age of seven, and was placed under the
conduct of guardians, who robbed him of his substance
and neglected his education. But Demosthenes repaired
this, loss by his love of eloquence and his extraordinary
abilities. He became the disciple of Isrnus and Plato,
and applied himself to study the orations of Isocrates. At
the age of seventeen he gave an early proof of his elo¬
quence and abilities in a suit against his guardians, from
whom he obtained the restitution of the greater part of
his estate. His rising talents were, however, impeded by
various natural defects; but these were at last conquered
by dint of resolution and unwearied attention. He de¬
claimed by the sea-shore, that he might become habitu¬
ated to the noise of a tumultuous assembly, and with
pebbles in his mouth, that he might correct a defect in
his speech. He practised at home with a naked sword
hanging over his shoulder, that he might check an un¬
graceful motion to which he was subject. He also con¬
fined himself in a subterraneous cave, in order to devote
himself more closely to studious pursuits ; and in order to
eradicate all curiosity of appearing in public, he shaved
one half of his head. In this solitary retirement, by the
help of a glimmering lamp, he composed the greater part
of those orations which have been the admiration of every
succeeding age ; though his contemporaries and rivals in¬
veighed against them, and observed that they smelt of the
lamp. His abilities as an orator raised him to consequence
at Athens, and he was soon placed at the head of the go¬
vernment. In this public capacity he roused his country¬
men from their indolence, and animated them against the
encroachment of Philip of Macedonia ; but in the battle of
Cheronaea, the hero of the Agora betrayed his pusillani¬
mity, and saved his life by an ignominious flight. After
the death of Philip, he declared himself warmly against
Alexander his son and successor; and when the Macedo¬
nians demanded of the Athenians to give up their orators,
Demosthenes reminded his countrymen of the fable of
the sheep, which delivered up their dogs to the wolves.
By the prevalence of party, however, he was forced to
retire from Athens; and in his banishment, which he
passed at Trcezen and iEgina, he lived with more effe¬
minacy than became his character. When Antipater
made war against Greece after the death of Alexander,
Demosthenes was publicly recalled from his exile, and a
galley was sent to fetch him from iEgina. His return was
attended with much splendour, and all the citizens crowded
to the Piraeus to see him land. But his triumph and po¬
pularity were shortlived. Antipater and Craterus were
near Athens, and demanded that all the orators should
be delivered into their hands. Demosthenes fled to the
temple of Neptune in Calauria; and when he saw that all
hopes of safety were vanished, he took a dose of poison,
which he had always carried in a quill, and expired on the
day on which the Thesmophoria were celebrated, 322 years
before Christ. The Athenians raised a brazen statue to
his honour, with an inscription, setting forth, that if his
actual means had equalled his mental resources, Greece
would not have bowed to the Macedonian.
Demosthenes has been deservedly considered as the
prince of orators. Indeed no orator had ever a finer field
than Demosthenes in his Olynthiacs and Philippics, which
are his principal orations; and undoubtedly to the great¬
ness of the subject, and to that integrity and public spirit
which breathe in them, these productions owe a large por¬
tion of their merit. The subject is, to excite the indig¬
nation of his countrymen against Philip of Macedon, the
public enemy of the liberties of Greece; and to guard
them against the treacherous measures by which that
710
DEM
Demos¬
thenes.
crafty tyrant endeavoured to lull them into a neglect of
their danger. In order to attain this end, we see him
using every proper means to animate a people distinguish¬
ed for justice, humanity, and valour, but who had in many
respects become corrupt and degenerate. He boldly ac¬
cuses them of venality, indolence, and indifference to the
public good; whilst, at the same time, he reminds them
of their former glory and of their present resources. His
contemporary orators, who had been bribed by Philip,
and who persuaded the people to remain at peace, he
openly reproaches as traitors to their country; and he
not only prompts to vigorous measures, but teaches how
these are to be carried into execution. His orations are^
strongly animated, and full of impetuosity and ardour of
public spirit. His composition is not distinguished by or¬
nament and splendour. It is an energy of thought pecu¬
liarly his own, which forms his character, and raises him
above all others. He seems not to attend to words, but
to things. We forget the orator, and think only of the
subject. He has no parade and ostentation, no studied
introductions; he is like a man full of his subject, who,
after preparing his audience by a sentence or two for the
reception of plain truths, enters directly on business.
The style of Demosthenes is strong and concise, though
occasionally, it must be confessed, somewhat harsh and
abrupt. His words are highly expressive, and his arrange¬
ment firm and manly. Negligent of lesser graces, he
seems to have aimed at that sublime which consists in senti¬
ment. His action and pronunciation are said to have been
uncommonly vehement and ardent; which, from the man¬
ner of his writings, we should readily believe. His cha¬
racter appears to have been of the austere rather than of
the gentle kind. He is always grave, serious, passionate ;
never degrading himself, nor attempting any thing like
pleasantry. If his admirable eloquence have any fault, it
is that it sometimes borders on the hard and the dry.
He maybe thought to want smoothness and grace, which
is attributed to his imitating too closely the manner of
Thucydides, who was his great model for style, and whose
history he is said to have transcribed eight times with
his own hand. But these defects are more than coun¬
terbalanced by that force of masculine eloquence which,
as it overpowered all who heard it, cannot in the present
day be read without emotion.
Cicero calls him a perfect model, and such as he him¬
self wished to be. These two great masters of eloquence
have been often compared, but the judgment hesitates to
which the preference should be given. The Archbishop
of Cambray, however, seems to have stated their merits
with great justice and perspicuity in his Reflections on
Rhetoric and Poetry. “ I do not hesitate,” says he, “ to
declare that I think Demosthenes superior to Cicero. I
am persuaded no one can admire Cicero more than I do.
He adorns whatever he attempts; he does honour to lan¬
guage ; he disposes of words in a manner peculiar to him¬
self ; his style has great variety of character. Whenever
he pleases he is even concise and vehement; for instance,
against Catiline, against Yerres, against Antony. But
ornament is too visible in his writings; his art is wonder¬
ful, but it is perceived. When the orator is providing for
the safety of the republic, he forgets not himself, nor per¬
mits others to forget him. Demosthenes seems to escape
from himself, and to see nothing but his country. He
seeks not elegance of expression, unsought for he pos¬
sesses it. He is superior to admiration : he makes use of
language, as a modest man does of dress, only to cover
D B M
him. He thunders, he lightens: he is a torrent whichDempste)
carries every thing before it. We cannot criticise, be-
cause we are not ourselves. His subject enchains our
attention, and makes us forget his language. We lose
him from our sight: Philip alone occupies our minds. I
am delighted with both these orators; but I confess that
I am less affected by the infinite art and magnificent elo¬
quence of Cicero, than by the rapid simplicity of Demo¬
sthenes.”
DEMPSTER, Thomas, one of the most learned men
whom Scotland has produced, was born at Cliftbog in
Aberdeenshire, on the 23d of August 1579, being the
twenty-fourth out of twenty-nine children by the same
mother. His father, who bore the same name with him¬
self, he describes as proprietor of Muresk, Auchterless,
and Killesmont, and prorex, or lieutenant, of the county
of Banff and the district of Buchan. His mother was
Jane, the sister of Lesley of Balquhain ; and one grand¬
mother was daughter to the last earl of Buchan, of the
family of Stewart, and the other1 was sister to Lord For¬
bes. "He was born during the lifetime of his grandfather;
at whose decease, the family, more distinguished by its
gentility than its opulence, was left in very unprosperous
circumstances.
According to his own account, his first step in learning
was as vronderful as any part of his subsequent progress;
for, at the age of three years, he completely mastered the
alphabet in the space of a single hour. He was afterwards
committed to the care of Andrew Ogston, a schoolmaster at
Turreff, and was next removed to Aberdeen, where he was
initiated in classical learning by Thomas Cargill, an excel¬
lent grammarian. In the mean time, the family was involved
in ruin, chiefly by the misconduct of James, his eldest bro¬
ther ; of whom he has given an account which it would have
been much wiser to suppress. This brother took the extraor¬
dinary step of marrying his father’s concubine, Isabella Gor¬
don of Achavach; and having consequently been disinherit¬
ed, he attempted to revenge himself by collecting a band
of Gordons, and making a violent assault upon his father
when he was one morning proceeding on horseback, with
the view of transacting some public business. Several
attendants of the latter were slain in this encounter, and,
amongst others, his brother-in-law Gilbert Lesley ; he was
himself dangerously wounded. Two of the Gordons were
likewise left dead on the field, and several were wounded
on both sides.2 In order to cut off all hope of succession
from such an heir, he sold to the earl of Errol his estate
of Muresk, situated in the county of Aberdeen; but the
bargain was never fulfilled by the other party, and he was
unable to recover either his lands or their price. Thus,
we are told, he only left to his son Thomas an empty
title. But Thomas, who represents himself as the twen¬
ty-fourth child, does not venture to assert that, if the
estate had still remained in the family, he was next in the
order of succession ; and when in various works he styled
himself baron of Muresk, he must have been aware, even
taking baron in the sense of laird, that his title was as
empty as could well be imagined. After this act of atro¬
cious violence, his brother James fled to the northern
islands, and having there collected a band of ruffians, he
lived in open defiance of the laws, till he at length set
fire to the bishop of Orkney’s palace, and then returned
to the country which he had been compelled to abandon.
His wife, who had become the mother of seven children,
was now discarded; and having made choice of another
companion, he sought an asylum in the Netherlands, where
1 Laurus Leslseana explicata, § Gl. Grsecii, 1G92, fol. . t i „ «n,iaua thp same
2 Dempsteri Historia Ecclesiastica, p. G73—In the dedication of his Antiquitates Romano: to king, James, he alludes to
atrocious attempt. Here his father is described as “ Banfise et Buchanue praefectus atque irenarcha.
D E M P
j)gi jstor* ho served s.s 9, C9ptciin of horse# But the divine vongounce
at last overtook him ; for having been guilty of some gross
act of violence towards his colonel, he was executed at
Utrecht in the most appalling manner; he was torn limb
from limb by four horses, and thus, according to his bro¬
ther’s account, ended a career of more than common crime
and infamy.
In the progress of these events, Thomas, by the advice
of his uncle John Dempster, whom he describes as an
eminent lawyer of Edinburgh, was induced to seek in an¬
other country that fortune from which he seemed to be
precluded in his own. In the tenth year of his age, he
repaired to Cambridge, where he for some time studied
in Pembroke Hall. He afterwards directed his course to
France; and having on his journey been robbed of his
money and stript of his clothes, he with difficulty made
his way to Paris. Here he was kindly treated by some
of his countrymen, and was beginning to think of resum¬
ing his studies, when he was seized with a contagious
disease, which deprived the schools of their auditors, and
the city of its inhabitants. When he at length recovered
from this dangerous malady, he hastened to the university
of Louvain, which was then adorned by the erudition of
Lipsius; but not long after his arrival he found that Wil¬
liam Crichton, a Jesuit, principal of the Scotish College,
had received instructions to send some of his young coun¬
trymen to Rome; and those whom he selected, besides
Dempster himself, were Patrick Anderson, who was al¬
ready a Jesuit, Robert Hill, who died professor of philo¬
sophy at Montpellier, and Thomas Lyon, who was blind
from his infancy. He reached the papal city after a dan¬
gerous journey, for the plague was raging in Germany,
and Italy wras the scene of military operations. By the
kindness of Cardinal Cajetano, protector of the Scotish
nation, he was admitted as a student in the Roman semi¬
nary, and, under the tuition of Stephoni, began the study
of poetry, that is, the art of Latin versification : but having
again been attacked by a dangerous disease, the physi¬
cians recommended a change of climate ; and, in company
with Andrew Crichton, proceeding by way of Switzer¬
land, he directed his wandering steps towards the Nether¬
lands. At Tournay he experienced the kindness of his
countryman James Cheyne, who sent him to the univer¬
sity of Douay, where he was maintained by a pension from
the king of Spain and the archduke Albert. He now
prosecuted the study of poetry with new vigour, but did
not neglect the other branches of learning. In poetry
he obtained the first, and in philosophy the second prize.
Having taken the degree of A. M. he for a short time
taught humanity at Tournay; but as his prospects were
not there very encouraging, he again presented himself at
Paris, and having taken the degree of doctor of the canon
law, he succeeded David Sinclair as a regent in the College
of Navarre. At that period, according to his own state¬
ment, he had not attained the age of seventeen ; and he
must therefore have obtained his preferment in the year
1596. In what university he afterwards took the degree
of doctor of the civil law, he has omitted to mention ; but
in several of his works he describes himself as Juris utri-
usque Doctor, or doctor of both laws, civil and canon.
From the beginning to the end of his career he was a
restless wanderer, and he soon quitted Paris with the in¬
tention of settling at Toulouse. On his route, he halted
for some time at St Maixant in Poitou. At Toulouse he
S T _E R.
began to teach humanity; but his zeal in contending for Dempster,
the interests of the university excited the resentment of
certain individuals of rank or influence, and he again
tiought it expedient to change his place of residence.
His views were next directed to a professorship of philo-
sophy at Montpellier, whither he appears to have been
mvited by his countrymen Adam Abernethy and Andrew
Currie, the former of whom is still remembered as an
author; but, in the mean time, he made his appearance
cit rsismes, where the professorship of eloquence wss to
be awarded to the most deserving competitor, and where
only one of twenty-four judges decided against him. As
this was a seminary appropriated to the Huguenots, Bayle
conjectures that he must have suspended his zeal for the
Romish faith.1 One of the unsuccessful candidates, Jacob
Grasser of Basel, sought to avenge himself by making a
violent assault upon Dempster, by publishing a libel against
him, and by applying for a legal interdict to prohibit him
from discharging the duties of his office; but the profes¬
sor, who possessed courage as well as strength, repelled the
joint attack of Grasser and some of his associates, and
found means to have him committed to prison, first at
Nismes, and afterwards, when he had made his escape,
at Montpellier, and again at Paris. After a tedious litiga¬
tion of two years, the cause was at length decided in his
favour by the parliament of Toulouse, and the libel pub¬
lished against him was ordered to be burnt at Nismes by
the hands of the executioner.
Nor did he long retain his professorship of eloquence.
After making a journey into Spain, he accepted the ap¬
pointment of preceptor to Artus d’Espinay, subsequently
bishop of Marseille, a son of the famous Sainte Luc, grand¬
master of the artillery of France, who was killed at the
siege of Amiens in the year 1597. But a quarrel in which
he involved himself at Brissac with one of his pupil’s rela¬
tions, hastened the termination of this engagement, and
he now adopted the resolution of returning to his na¬
tive country. With the viewr of recovering some portion
of the family property, he brought an action in the court
of session, and, according to his own impression, would
ultimately have succeeded, if he had not found it expe¬
dient to withdraw before the decision was pronounced.
His relations were either reduced to poverty, or were un¬
willing to assist him, on account of his adherence to the
popish faith; and for the same reason he was exposed to
persecution from the Scotish clergy, chiefly, as he con¬
ceives, at the instigation of William Cowper, afterwards
bishop of Galloway. With this divine he was for three
days engaged in a theological disputation at Perth, and
he appears to have been extremely well satisfied with the
manner in which he acquitted himself. To the resent¬
ment of Cowper in being foiled, not by a theologian, but
by a lawyer, he imputes the injurious representations
which were made to the king.2 He again bad adieu to
Scotland, and, returning to Paris, was for seven years em¬
ployed, with honour as well as emolument, as a regent in
four different colleges, those of Lisieux, Grassins, Du
Plessis, and Beauvais.3
Of the decision and ferocity of his character he exhibit¬
ed a notable instance in the last of these colleges. Gran-
gier, the principal, having occasion to absent himself from
Paris, appointed Dempster to act as his substitute, being
no doubt persuaded that he had sufficient energy to main¬
tain the most rigid discipline. A student challenged one
1 Bayle, Dictionaire Historinue et Critique, tom ii. p. 986. 2 Dempsteri Historia Ecclesiastica, p. 195. 677-
3 A. du Saussay, bishop of Tulle, in his continuation of Bellarmia, has mentioned Dempster in the following terms: ‘ Docuit
magno discipulorum concursu, nec minori omnium doctorum sestimatione et plausu: inter ejus auditores in mea juventute constiti.
Cseterum tantus vir pugnaci animo et contentioso ac instabili fuit, quo genio ductus plerumque domicilia mutavit. (De benpto-
ribus Ecclesiasticis, p. 82. edit. Colon. 1684, 4to.)
712
DEMPSTER.
Demnsler. of his companions to fight a duel: the vice-principal was they were one day walking in the street, his lady attract-Dempst,
moved with indignation at such a proceeding; and having ed a crowd of gazers, not merely by the beauty of her ^
' “ized the offender and untrussed his points, he placed person, butchieflybyexhib.ting a more ampleportionof her
him on the back of a sturdy knave, and in the presence bosom and shoulders than suited the established usages of
of tlm whole college, gave him a sound flogging. The the country So great was *e concourse of people, that
voung gentleman, burning with resentment, brought one they were obliged to fly for shelter to an adjoining house,
dav to the college three of his kinsmen who served in the In due time he returned to Pisa and read h,s inaugural
guards but Dempster, undismayed at this military inva- lecture on the second of November His salarywas aug-
fion, put arms into the hands of the servants, and having monte,I to four hundred ducats, and
ordered them to kill the horses which were left at the
cate, made so formidable an attack on the soldiers, that
they were speedily reduced to the necessity of begging
for mercy. Their lives were spared by the victor, who
however detained them for a short time as prisoners in
the college belfry. When they had thus ascertained that
he vvas agmatch for them at their own weapons, they en¬
deavoured to find a more competent remedy; and as he
was not persuaded a^e|f ‘ it\°ed hirstotio^ per to mention, nor is the origin or progress of this"dispute
KcoUege of BeaovllanTsailU for England- Ac- tendered in any degree intelligible by Ins abrupt narra-
cor^nn to one of his Irish antagonists, the cause of his live. It however appears that h.s antagonist, who was
flinh was of a mucK more foul descriptionbut the work probably an ecclesiastic, succeeded in producing a favour-
tt£- hTnt,insXs statement displays such a fierce spirit able impression on the grand duke, who only left Deinp-
Wfhlflphtr,ctinn as mult deprive itVall historical credit, ster the alternative of making an apo ogy or quitting the
He had been invited to England by King James, who bo- Tuscan dominions. The learned civilian was of too stub-
stowed upon him the titkfof historiographer royal, and born a nature to be readily convinced that he was in the
stowed upon mm uio , wrnno- nnd ton nroud to stoon to what he considered as
;vt
1UULUI C UI1 LUC V71.       J  ft
mented to four hundred ducats, and he now appeared to
have a fair prospect of honour and emolument. He re¬
commended himself to the duke by undertaking his great
work De Etruria Regali, which he must have completed
with wonderful energy and dispatch. In the year 1617,
he paid another visit to Britain, with the view of arrang¬
ing some private affairs. But his restless and turbulent
disposition did not long permit him to enjoy tranquillity.
He involved himself in an angry and pertinacious dispute
with an Englishman, whose name he has not thought pro-
in 1615 or 1616.1 2 3 At London he married Susannah Wal- Pisa on the 21st of July loly. * t 4. ..h 1 c
er a woman of greft beauty and elegance, who afterwards Disgusted with Italy, he now reverted to the pW
ler, a woman or grea ^cauisiti0n. His hopes of ob- settling in his native country; but on arriving at Bologna,
tahiin'o- preferment were defeated by the remonstrances he paid his respects to Cardinal Cappom, legate of that
of the ciercv particularly Dr Montague, bishop of Bath papal city, who prevailed upon him to abandon Ins inten-
nnd Wells ^hev endeavoured to impress the king with a tion, and within the short space of twelve days procured
sens^of th^ ^propriety of thus taking under his^protec- him the appointment of professor of humanity This was
tion and into his favour, a known and zealous catholic, an honourable and a lucrative office, which had been held
Hp therefore took his leave of the learned monarch, and by men of high reputation, by P. Manutius, Sigomus, and
He the " . j i4aiv When he ar- Robortellus. A new office naturally involved such a per-
agam necte^ ms ^ ^ f b j a spy an^ f0r son in new contentions: the professor of humanity was en-
Tstrle St was detained in custody; but Ms’charac- titled to take precedence of other professors; and as this
tpr and 01^tensions were easily ascertained, and from place of honour was fiercely contested, he maintained
the pope and several cardinals he obtained letters of re- own rights with his usual pertinacity, and with more an
sssks Bsxftttssszas-i z-iss a
in the university of Pisa 4 He had previously distinguished of dubious faith, and of being guilty ot the crime 0
himself^^the^pubUcTtion of •rarious works in prose and ing heretical books in his library. Dempster addressed
veTse and^ad earned t^e reputation of extensive erudi- to his adversary a letter which appears o have been so
Tmn At m Porlv neriod of his life he had betaken him- intemperate as to incur the censure of some of the ca
Lr«otl e studvTthe law; and by his edition of the dinals; bnt he proceeded to Rome in person, and after
Antiauitates Romance of Rosinus, printed in the year 1613, obtaining more than one audience of the pope, was ena
he had^vlLfd Ms proficiency as a civilian. The study to remove any aspersions which had been aimed at h,s
nf thp Roman law is so closely blended with the study of character. A formal reconciliation was at length effecte
Roman history and antiquities, that the one cannot be
SatSoon 'afteThe had been admitted to this office, he was professor mentions that he had prepared a full statement
furnished with letters and money by the grand duke, and of his case, and that if his adversary recurred to h s for
returned to England for the purpose of conveying his wife mer practices, it should be transmitted to
to Italy They proceeded by way of Paris; and when the mean time, he discharged his duty in the u )
1 Erythrsei Pinacotheca Imaginum illustrium Doctrinae vel ~t'A^oanne^ltobillardo Normano
Rvrr, TVii« arrnnnt seems to receive some confirmation from Dempster s more oner staremeni. a ov-.iHks ac in cus-
pSfum vto ffliit^ui frequent! station,,™ milite comitante sub noctem irrumpens, arm,, cum ,u, ezu.u,
todiam datus, iter conceptum Thom* acceleravit.” (Histona Ecclesiastica, p. 677-)
2 Hibernise, sive Antiquioris Scotise, Vindiciae, p. 52-8. Antverp. 1621, ovo.
3 Nichols’s Progresses of King James the First, vol. 11. p. 136. '
4 Fabronii Historia Academia; Pisanse, tom. ii. p. 234. Pisis, 1731-5, 3 tom. 4to.
s Erythrsei Pinacotheca, tom. i. p. 25,
DEMPSTER.
cer.
with diligence and ability. His reputation attracted pupils
of a higher rank, and his salary was augmented to eight
hundred ciwns. His love of wandering seems at length
to have abated; for he declined an offer of a thousand
crowns a year as professor of the civil law in the uni¬
versity of Padua. Pope Urban VIII. who was himself a
Latin poet, treated him with more than usual distinction,
by conferring upon him the honour of knighthood, and
accompanying this honour with an annual pension of one
hundred pieces of money, but of what denomination, is
not sufficiently apparent. Dempster likewise became a
member of the Accademia della Notte, in which, accord¬
ing to the Italian fashion, he assumed the name of Evan-
tius, and in the proceedings of which he is said to have
taken a great interest. He now appeared to have reached
a place of rest, when he was overtaken by the severest of
all his calamities. After his arrival in Italy, his wife had
born a daughter, who did not survive many days, and this
was fortunately the only offspring of such a mother. On
returning from one of his lectures, he discovered that she
had made an elopement, in which one or more of his own
pupils were either concerned as principals or accessories.
He immediately commenced a pursuit of the fugitives, who
seem to have added robbery to their other crime; but
when he had proceeded as far as Vicenza, a city of Lom¬
bardy, he found that they must already have passed the
Alps. This painful journey had been performed during the
heat of the dog-days. Oppressed with fatigue of body and
anguish of mind, he sought repose and tranquillity at Bu-
tri, in the neighbourhood of Bologna ; but having been sud¬
denly attacked with a fever, he was removed to his own
residence, and there died on the 6th of September 1625,
soon after he had completed the forty-sixth year of his
age. His remains were interred in the church of St Do¬
minic, where his brethren of the Accademia della Notte
erected a monumental stone to his memory, and added a
Latin inscription written in a very quaint style. One of
their number, Ovidio Montalbani, pronounced his funeral
oration, which was published in the course of the follow¬
ing year.1
Such was the turbulent life, and such the premature
death, of Thomas Dempster, a man distinguished by some
eminent endowments of body as well as mind. In his per¬
son, he was above the ordinary size, and was possessed of
proportional strength. He had an ample head, with black
hair, and a dark complexion, so that in Italy he might easi¬
ly have been mistaken for an Italian. He was a man of a
noble aspect, and was possessed of undaunted courage.
The irritability of his temperament involved him in many
quarrels, nor was his sword less formidable than his pen.
He never acquired the habit of restraining the natural im¬
petuosity of his mind, and was equally decided and un¬
disguised in his friendships and in his resentments. To his
friends he was very pleasant, and equally odious to his
enemies. Little inclined to forgive injuries, he pursued
his enemies with the most violent animosity, and express¬
ed his tumultuous feelings without any scrupulous regard
to decency.2 In several of his works, we find sufficient
713
evidence of his being somewhat loose in his assertions; Dempster,
and indeed men of a violent and perverse disposition seem
frequently to be incapable of distinguishing falsehood from
truth: they are much inclined to embrace as true what¬
ever is best suited to the state of their mind during its
morbid excitement.
Dempster s intellectual endowments were likewise of a
mixed character. He was endowed with such extraordi¬
nary powers of memory, and read with such indefatigable
diligence, that he was regarded as a speaking library. It
was customary with him to devote fourteen hours a day to
study. He wras allowed to possess an equal knowledge
of the Greek and Latin languages; and his knowledge of
both was so familiar, that in either language he undertook
to dictate verses as rapidly as the pen of a ready writer
could commit them to paper. He was a poet and philo-
loger, as well as a civilian and historian. He evinces no
mean portion of poetical fancy, and his verse is more ele¬
gant than his prose. His Musca is one of the few Latin
poems, written by natives of Scotland, which the learned
Wasse has recommended for republication.3 In his more
elaborate works, he displays very extensive and diversi¬
fied erudition, but in many instances his learning appears
superior to his judgment. The life which he led was sub¬
ject to many vicissitudes, and his waitings partake of the
same desultory character. His style is unequal, and fre¬
quently unpolished, nor is he sufficiently scrupulous in se¬
lecting words of the purer ages of Latinity.
His principal work, De Etruria Regali, was completed
in the space of about three years ; and when we consider
its great extent, and its ample stores of recondite know¬
ledge, we cannot but regard it as a wonderful performance.
Errors and defects may naturally be expected to occur in
a work relating to such a subject, and executed with so
much rapidity ; but sufficient room is still left for our ad¬
miration of the author's vivacity of mind, and resources of
learning. His edition of Rosinus likewise displays the co¬
piousness of his reading, and it has supplied materials to
all those who have subsequently laboured in the depart¬
ment of Roman antiquities. His juridical works entitle
him to a respectable place among civilians. Ludewig, who
is himself an able writer, has expressed a wish that his
notes on the Institutes of Justinian should be reprinted.4
As a classical critic, his character is chiefly to be ascer¬
tained from his editions of Claudian and Corippus, two
poets who belong to the declining ages of Roman litera¬
ture, and one of them indeed belongs to the latter part of
the sixth century.5 The editor might easily have select¬
ed purer models of language and taste; but on various oc¬
casions he chose to travel in a by-path of his own, and his
annotations on Corippus, as well as on Claudian, have con¬
tributed to his reputation as a man of miscellaneous eru¬
dition. Among his own works he enumerates notes on
Statius and a commentary on ./Elian, but there seems no
reason to believe that they were ever printed.
On the ecclesiastical and literary history of Scotland,
some of his publications are very slight and unsatisfactory.
His Menologium and Scotia Illustrior are so much occu-
■ liagionamento funebre havuto publicamente nell’ Accademia della Notte, per la Morte dell’ eccellentissimo Tomaso Demstero.
Bologna, 1626 This publication, which we have never seen, is mentioned by Bayle, and likewise by Niceron, Memoires pour servir
k 1’Histoire des Hommes illustres dans la Republique des Lettres, tom. xxviii. p. 314. r,,,!™ .
2 “ Moribus ferox fuit, apertus omnino, et simulandi nescius, sive enim amore, sive odio aliquem prosequeretur, utrumque palam ,
consuetudine jucundissimus, amicis obsequentissimus, ita inirnicis maxime infensus, acceptaeque injuria' enax, earn aper e agn ^
ac repetens.” J These are the expressions of Matthaeus Peregrinus, who has completed the account of Dempster which occurs at the
en* Wasse’s*MemoriaUoncen:ing the Desiderata of Learning: Bibliotheca Literaria, No. iii. p. V'T/866PoeTImm1 slJtorui^'tom"
tationes Academicse de Poetis, p. 151. A selection from Dempster’s poems may be found in the Dehtiae 1 oetarum Scotorum, to .
i. p. 306.
4 J. P. de Ludewig Vita Justiniani, p. 45. Halse Salicae, 1731, 4to.
6 Leyseri Historia Poetarum Medii ASvi, p. 172. Halae Magdeb. 1721, 8vo.
VOL. VII.
nr
714
DEMPSTER.
Dempster. pied with fierce contentions “ de lana caprina,” that they
can now excite little interest or curiosity. His Nomencla-
tura is a mere catalogue of names, which were to be illus¬
trated in a subsequent work. In his native country, he is
most generally known as the author of a book on which he
has bestowed the title of Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Sco-
torum, a title which is by no means descriptive of its con¬
tents. It contains a long enumeration of Scotish saints,
writers, and other worthies, who lived, or are supposed to
have lived, at periods very remote from each other. Of
many of his saints and writers, the very existence is con-
sidered as more than doubtful, and many of the rest be¬
long, not to Scotland, but to other countries. It is not
always easy to distinguish the early Scotish from the early
Irish writers. The name of Scotia or Scotland has not
been traced in any author who flourished before the third
century.1 At first it was exclusively applied to the coun¬
try now called Ireland; but after the descendants of the
Irish* had established themselves in the north of Britain,
they still retained the appellation of Scots; although it
was not before the eleventh century that the name of
Scotland was transferred from the one country to the
other.2 After that period, the green island gradually lost
its ancient designation. Some degree of confusion may
therefore be supposed to be connected with this identity
of names, nor has it always been avoided by writers more
accurate than Dempster. His notices of persons who liv¬
ed in earlier times are necessarily very scanty, and are of¬
ten very erroneous. Nor are his catalogues of books less
remarkable than his list of writers: he ascribes various
works to various individuals who flourished long before the
art of writing was introduced into Scotland ; and nothing
can be more ludicrous than his formal enumeration of the
productions of such imaginary authors. The principal
value of his book consists in its notices of those writers
who belonged to his own time, and particularly of those
who passed the better part of their lives on the continent.3
Relative to these, he presents us with many curious glean¬
ings of information, which is nowhere else to be found;
and on many occasions his information is more authentic
than his readers may be inclined to suppose. According
to Bishop Lloyd, he “ was as well inclined to believe a lye
as any man in his time ;”4 and to Dr Towers he “ seems
to have thought it highly meritorious to advance the
grossest falsehoods, if those falsehoods would, in any de¬
gree, contribute to the honour of his country.”5 6 7 A person
convicted of many errors is naturally suspected of many
more. Thus, when Dempster speaks of Kidd, or Ca-
danus, as being an eminent professor of law in the uni¬
versity of Toulouse, and the author of several works in
prose and verse, he has perhaps by some readers been
suspected of introducing an imaginary character; and yetDempstei
the same individual, utterly forgotten in his native coun--y-s.
try, is mentioned by Baluze as a professor of great ability
and reputation.6 On the continent there were many La¬
tin poems and tracts published by natives of Scotland, du¬
ring the age of Dempster and a short period immediately
preceding; and such of them as were written by indivi¬
duals who did not acquire any considerable celebrity,
have in various instances left but few traces behind them.
The works of Dempster are very numerous and very
miscellaneous. We subjoin a list, which is as complete as
we have been able to render it; but be has himself enu¬
merated various others, which do not appear to have been
published. All the articles from No. 29 to No. 47 inclu¬
sive, are copied from his own list; and it is to be re¬
gretted that he has not described them in a more satisfac¬
tory manner.
1. Cl. Claudiani quae extant, cum notis Thomae Demp-
steri Scoti. Flexiae, 1607, 16to.
2. In Claudianum Commentarius lib. i. Lugduni, et
alibi.—This commentary we have never seen, and it es¬
caped the researches of the younger Burman.*
3. Epithalamion in Nuptiis generosissimorum Jacobi Co-
mitis Perthani, Domini Drommondi, Baronis Stobhalliae,
&c. et Isabellae, unicae Roberti Comitis Wintonii, Domini
Setonii, &c. filiae. Edinburgi, 1608, 4to.
4. In desideratissimum Rectoratum clariss. viri D. D.
Jacobi Vassorii, SS. Theologiae Baccalaurei primae Licen-
the, Noviodunensis Ecclesiae Episcopalis Archidiaconi
meritissimi, &c. Panegyris extemporanea. Parishs, 1609,
4to.
5. Eucharisticon, dictum post Telemachum cl. v. D.D.
Petri Valentis in Aula Montana Cal. Septemb. Paris. 1609,
8vo.
6. Corippi African! Grammatici de Laudibus Justini
Minoris August! libri quatuor: Thomas Dempsterus a
Muresk, J. C. recensuit, lacunas supplevit, mendis expur-
gavit, commentarium adjecit, quo historia et antiquarii
ritus elucidantur, variique scriptores explicantur, restitu-
untur; item loca variorum reduxit, qui Corippum citarunt,
illustrarunt: cum indice pene omnium dictionum. .His
accessit pro corollario Constantini Manassis Gr. Carmeh
politicum in Justinum Minorem Imp. quod nunc primum
prodit, cum versione metrica Fed. Morelli Interpr. Reg.
Paris. 1610, 8vo. ,. .
7. Musca; sive Strena Kal. Jan. ad illustrem nobihssi-
mumque virum D. Petrum Huraldum Hospitalium Fayum,
Dominum de Bel-ebate, Magni Consilii Senatorem Regi-
um, &c. Ejusdem Muscse Partes, ab excellentissimis in-
geniis. Paris. 1610, 4to.—There are other two editions.
& 8. Epinicion ; seu Victrix Academia. Natalium splen-
i r
1 Usserii Britannicarum Ecclesiarum Antiquitates, p. 728. Dublin. 1639, 4to.
2 Pinkerton’s Enquiry into the History of Scotland, voh ii. p. 228. # » ....
^ “ Post hos, rem literariam aggressus Dempsterus, omnia ad criticam seventatem mimme exegit, sed multa lutiiia unuique
corrasit; et quo fidem suam sacrificuhs Romanis probaret, non potuit non religionis et libertatis vmdices identidem Htrare, Nec
tamen sua laude fraudandus est. De meliore nota multa congessit, de us prsesertnn scnptonbus qui, exules p. ’ . '
reconditas literas in academiis Gallorum, Italorumque et Germanorum, non sine gloria docuerunt. Ain llu~reJor™
thematicas disciplinas alii jurisprudentiamve colentes, laudem baud mediocrem adepti sunt , professores \ e e g. . .
p“S Lt Lu, nomeiique Scoticun, late per orbem terrarum propagarunt. Videra. ipse Dempsterus mu tos quorum memmit,
sacerdotes, protessores, milites, et interdum mores Irommum notat.” (Pnef in Hist. Lcclesiast. editionem alte . • •)
4 Lloyd’s Historical Account of Church-Government as it was in Great Britain and Ireland, when they first received the Ctm
tian Religion, p. 153. sec. edit. Lond. 1684, 8vo.
5 Bioeraphia Britannica, vol. v. p- 94. „ .... .. . • pjvUri
6 “ Deinde per tres continues annos in academia Tolosana, quse turn in jure docendo ceteras Europae facilhme anteibat, j
et canonicum audivit, usus magnis doctoribus, Gulielmo Marano, Gulielmo Cadano Scoto, Vincentio Chabotio, et Jano 1
turn publice jus utrumque in ea civitate profitebantur. Sed in pnmis secutus est Cadanum, tunc interpretantem No e
tionem cxxiii. Imperatoris Justiniani, virum, ut ipse aiebat, in utroque jure consultissimum, sed qui canonicum callere ^ cl .
lum, bonasque literas legum ac canonum cognitioni addidisset; eorumque tarditatem deplorabat, 9lll 0bscuntatem i ^ P.^
henderent.’’ (Baluzii Epistola de Vita Petri de Marca, Archiepiscopi Pansiensis, p. 10. 1 ans. 1663, 8io.) Dempst
James, instead of William.
7 P. Burmanni Secundi prsef. in Claudianum, p. xi.
D E M P
dore, nec minus eruditionis gloria insigni viro ac domino,
D. Richardo de Pichon, causarum in summo Senatu Gal-
liarum patrono eloquentissimo. Paris. 1612, 4to.
9. Tragcedia Decemviratus abrogatus. Ad illustriss. D.
Jacobum Augustum Thuanurn, &c. Paris. 1613, 8vo.
10. Antiquitatum Romanarum Corpus absolutissimum,
in quo prseter ea quae Joannes Rosinus delineaverat, infi-
nita supplentur, mutantur, adduntur; ex criticis et omni¬
bus utriusque linguae auctoribus collectum, poetis, oratori-
bus, historicis, jurisconsultis, qui laudati, explicati, cor-
rectique ; Thoma Dempstero a Muresk, J. C. Scoto, auc-
tore. Ad potentissimum augustissimumque Principem
Jacobum I. Monarcham Magnae Britanniae, &c. Lutetiae
Parisiorum, 1613, fol.—Of this work there are many sub¬
sequent editions. One of these was published by Pitis-
cus, and another, which bears the following title, by J. F.
Reitz: “ Johannis Rosini Antiquitatum Romanarum Cor¬
pus absolutissimum, cum notis doctissimis ac locupletissi-
mis Thomae Dempsteri.” Amst. 1743, 4to. The edition
is correct and elegant. Under the title of “ Thomae Demp¬
steri Kalendarium Romanum,” an extract from this work
is inserted in Graevius’s Thesaurus Antiquitatum Romana¬
rum, tom. viii. col. 115.
11. Panegyricus augustiss. potentiss. q. Principi Jacobo
I. Britanniar. Franciae, et Hiberniae Regi, &c. Domino suo
clementiss. dictus a Thoma Dempstero a Muresk, J. C.
Historico Regio. Londini, 1615, 4to.
12. Strena Kal. Januar. ad Jacobum Hayum, Dominum
ac Baronem de Saley. Lond. 1616, 4to.
13. Votum illustriss. generosiss. q. D. Roberto Caro,
Periscelidis Equiti, Regi ab Arcanis Consiliis, Regiae Do-
mus Majori, Somerset! Comiti, &c. 4to.—This publication
consists of two leaves, without a title-page, and seems to
have been printed in London.
14. Licitatio Professorum; sive Praefatio solemnis ha-
bita Pisis postridie Kal. Novembris M.DC.XYI. Ad illus-
trissimum reverendissimumque virum D. Franciscum Bon-
cianum, Archiepiscopum Pisanum, &c. Pisis, 1616, 4to.
15. Troia Hetrusca; sive Gamelia Ludicra, sereniss.
Federico Urbinatium Principi decursa, sereniss. Cosmo
II. Magno Hetruriae Duce edente. Ad sereniss. Franc.
Mariam Urbinatium Ducem. Florentiae, 1616, 4to.
16. Bandum Mediceum ; sive Strena Kl. Jan. MDCXVII.
de Stemmate, Pila, Hercule, Leone. Sereniss. Princip.
Cosm. II. Magn. Hetruriae Due. Florent. 1617, 4to.
17. Bononia; sive Praefatio solemnis, habita ix. Cal.
Novembris. Bononiae, 1619, 4to.
18. Scotorum Scriptorum Nomenclatura, &c. Bonon.
1619, 4to.
19. Scotia Illustrior; seu Mendicabula repressa, mo-
desta Parecbasi: qua libelli famosi impudentia detegitur,
mendacia ridicula confutantur, Scotiae Sancti sui vindican-
tur, ac bona fide asseruntur. Lugduni, 1620, 8vo.—The
title-page is without a date, but the dedication is dated at
Rome on the fourth of October 1620. This work is chief¬
ly directed against a publication bearing the title of “ Bri-
gida Thaumaturga; sive Dissertatio partim encomiastica
in laudem ipsius Santae,” &c. Paris. 1620, 8vo. The
anonymous author has subjoined a tract entitled “ De
Scriptorum Scotorum Nomenclatura a Thoma Dempstero
edita Praecidaneum.” This Irishman and his country
Dempster treated with the utmost scorn and contempt;
and in the following work he was answered in a similar
strain: “ Hiberniae, sive Antiquioris Scotiae, Vindiciae ad-
versus immodestam Parecbasim Thomae Dempsteri, mo-
derni Scoti, nuper editam: in quibus currente calamo in-
numerae ipsius Dempsteri imposturae et mendacia dete-
S T E R. 715
guntur, atque ipse levi penicillo depingitur, ut intelligat Dempster,
qui quae vult dicit, quae non vult audit. His accessit No-
menclatura Scotorum et Scotiae, &c. Authore G. F. Ve-
ridico Hiberno.” Antverpiae, 1621, 8vo. Sir Thomas
Pope Blount has stated that in 1623 both Dempster’s
work and this answer were prohibited by the church. In
1621 his edition of Rosinus was prohibited till it should
be corrected.1
20. Asserti Scotiae Gives sui, S. Bonifacius Rationibus
ix. Joannes Duns Rationibus xii. Excerptum e libris de
Scriptoribus Scotis. Bonon. 1621, 4to.
21. Ulyssis Aldrovandi Quadrupedum omnium Bisulco-
rum Historia: Joannes Cornelius Uterverius Belga colli-
gere inccepit, Thomas Dempsterus, Baro a Muresk Scotus,
J. C. perfecte absolvit, Hieronymus Tamburinus in lucem
edidit. Bonon. 1621, fol. Bonon. 1642, fol.
22. Menologium Scotorum; in quo nullus nisi Scotus
gente aut conversatione; quod ex omnium gentium moni-
mentis, pio studio Dei Gloriae, Sanctorum Honori, Patriae
Ornamento, colligit, publicat, et inscribit illustriss. Prin¬
cipi, Mcecaenati suo, D. Maphaeo S. R. E. Card. Barbe-
rino, Scotorum Protectori. Opus ecclesiastics hierarchiae
ac monastics vits dignitati augends, hsresi in Scotia
vigenti confundends, operose utile. Bonon. 1622, 4to.
23. Apparatus ad Historiam Scoticam lib. ii. Accesse-
runt Martyrologium Scoticum Sanctorum DCLXXIX.
Scriptorum Scotorum MDCIII. Nomenclatura. Opus e
peregrinis omnium gentium historiis collectum, omnia orbis
regna pio studio lustrantur, religioss S. R. E. familis
nobilitantur, historia patria augetur, sectarii admonentur,
catholica veritas contra hostes Dei et Scotis firmatur.
Justi et parati operis prsnuntia. Bonon. 1622, 4to.—The
first book treats “ De Religione,” and the second “ De
Regno.” The work was intended as a prelude to his His¬
toria Ecclesiastica.
24. Ksgauvo; xou ’OCsXog in Glossas lib. iv. Institutionum
Justiniani. Bonon. 1622, 8vo.
25. De Juramento lib. iii. Locus ex Antiq. Rom. re-
tractatus. Satisfactum Fams illmi. b. m. Cardinalis Bel-
larmini, qui falso insimulabatur, theologice, juridice, his-
torice, antiquarie, ex utriusque lingus, omnium gentium,
omnis statis monimentis. Illustriss. Principi, Jo. Gar-
sis S. R. E. Card. Millino, S. D. N. Vicario Generali,
Mecsnati suo. Bonon. 1623, 8vo.
26. Benedict! Accolti de Bello a Christianis contra Bar-
baros gesto, pro Christi Sepulchre et Judsa recuperandis,
libri iiii. Thomas Dempsterus, J. C. Baro a Muresk Sco¬
tus, cum aliis scriptoribus collates, et mendis expurgavit,
et notis non vulgaribus illustravit. Florentis, 1623, 4to.
Nunc denuo ad exemplar Florentinum CI3I3CXXIII. ab
innumeris et foedissimis mendis expurgatum, emaculatius
recudendos curavit Henricus Hofsnider, cum indice satis
luculento. Gronings, 1731, 8vo.
27. Lessus; sive Laudatio Funebris illustriss. D. Julio
Cssari Signio, Episcopo Reatino, dicta ad Divi Joannis in
Monte: Extemporale Thoms Dempsteri, J. C. Scoti, Ba-
ronis a Muresk, Profess. Eminentis. Bonon. 1623, 4to.
28. Votum Divs Virgin! Sanlucians. Bonon. 1623,
8vo.
29. Tragcedia Stilico lib. i. Sammaxentii.—His own
list likewise contains the following titles : “ Tragicomce-
dia Maximilianus lib. i.” “ Tragcedia Maximilianus lib. i.
Duaci acta, scripta a puero.” As he does not mention any
place of printing, we may suppose these dramas to have
been unpublished.
30. Epithalamium Marchionis Brandeburgici lib. i. Fran-
cofurti.
1 Pope Blount, Censura celebriorum Authorum, p. 643. Lond. 1690, fol.
7
716
Dempster.
DEM
31. Epithalamium Vicecomitis Hadintonii lib. i. Lon-
32. Panegyricus dementi VIII. Pontifici lib. i. Romae.
33. Panegyricus Paulo V. Pontifici lib. i. Romae.
34*. Expostulate cum Musis et Senatu Aremorico, dum
custodiam suae innocentiae ultro subivit. Nemausi.
35. Divinatio ad Regem lib. i. Londini.
36. Eucharisticon Alberto Archiduci lib. i. Duaci et
Lovanii. . . T t *•
37. Actio Scholastica de S. Catbanna lib. i. Lutetiae.
38. Poemata de S. Thoma Aquinate lib. i. _ lolosae.
39. Acrosticba de Europae Principibus lib. i. Uuaci.
40. In Elizabetham Angliae Reginam lib. i. U^ci.
41. Lachrymae ad Timoleontem d’Espinay Sanlucium
in Funere Uxoris lib. i. Parisiis et Lugduni.
42. Judicium de omnibus omnium Gentium et iempo-
rum Historicis lib. i. Parisiis.
43. JSiotae in Sphaeram lib. i. Franco! urti. .
44. Politico Parecbases, nuncupatae Alexandro Kazi-
villo, Principi Polono, auditor! suo, lib. i. Parisiis.
45. (jenethliacon Delphini Franciae, nunc Regis Ludo-
vici XIII. lib. i. Flexiae. _ . .
46. De Inundatione Anglicana lib. i. blexiae. #
47. Votum Scipioni Burghesio, S. R. E. Cardinal!, lib. i.
Romae. „ v, .
. 48. Historia Ecclesiastica Gentis Scotorum lib. xix.
qua viri sanctitate, Uteris, dignitatibus, toto orbe illustres,
et familiae Scoticae, in varias urbes transmissae, et praeci-
pue Placentiam,recensentur. Illustnssimoviro 1-abio bcoto
Plac°. Miceni Com. dicata. Bonomae, 1627, 4to.—Ibis
posthumous work is printed in the most negligent manner,
insomuch that very many passages are scarcely intelligi¬
ble. It has recently been reprinted for the use ot the
Bannatvne Club: “ Thomae Dempsteri Historia Ecclesi-
astica Gentis Scotorum: sive, de Scriptoribus Scotis.
Editio altera.” Edinb. 1829, 2 tom. 4to. This edition
was superintended by Dr Irving, who, in a preface of con¬
siderable length, lias given an account of the author and
his singular performance. He has endeavoured to amend
a great variety of passages, by referring to writers whom
Dempster quotes, by altering the vicious punctuation, by
attending to the ordinary rules of grammar, and some¬
times, where the sense seemed perfectly clear, by substi¬
tuting one letter for another. Of the more material
changes, he has given a detailed statement in the preface.
49? Cerasum et Sylvestre Prunum; opus poematicum,
de Virtutum et Yitiorum Pugna; sive Electio Status in
Adolescentia: authore primo nobili Domino Alexandro
Montgomrio Scoto, poeta regio, idiomatis materm laureate:
nunc rursus auctum et in Latinos versus translatum, per
T. D. S. P. M. B. P. P. in gratiam illustris et generosi
herois D. Alexandri Brussii, Capitanei Cohortis Peditum
Scotorum, Domini de Kinkawil. Arctauni Francorum,
1631, 8vo. Edinburgi, 1696, 8vo.
50. De Etruria Regali libri vii. nunc pnmum editi, cu-
rante Thoma Coke, Magnae Britannia Armigero. Florentiae,
1723-4, 2 tom. fob—The title-page of the first volume
bears an inscription “ Regiae celsitudini Cosmi III. Magni
Ducis Etruriae,” that of the second, “ Regiae celsitudim
Jo. Gastonis, Magni Ducis Etruriaeand Dr fowers has
erroneously supposed that the work was published at their
expense. It was published at the expense ot the editor,
Sir Thomas Coke, afterwards earl of Leicester, whose
library contained the original manuscript, nor is the book
unworthy of so magnificent an editor : it is elegantly punt¬
ed, and is illustrated with engravings. A supplement to
this work was published by Giambattista Passeri under
the subsequent title: “In Thomae Dempsteri hbros de
Etruria Regali Paralipomena, quibus Tabulae eidem open
additae illustrantur. Accedunt Dissertationes de ue Num-
D E N
maria Etruscorum, de Nominibus Etruscorum, et Notas in Demu], s0
Tabulas Eugubinas.” Lucae, 1767, fol. # . (x.) cents P,
Dempster of Couvt, the name formeily given in bcot* II n
land to the common executioner or hangman. syry'
DEMSTER, or Deemster. See Deemster.
DEMULCENTS, among physicians, medicines for re¬
moving or counteracting acrimonious humours. Such are
the roots of marsh-mallows, white lilies, liquoiice, and vi¬
per-grass, and the five emollient herbs.
DEMURRAGE, in Commerce, an allowance made to
the master of a ship by the merchants, for staying in a port
longer than the time first appointed for his departure.
DEMURRER, in Law, a stop put to any action upon
some point of difficulty which must be determined by the
court before any further proceedings can be had in the
suit. . , . . . .
DENAICOTT, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Coimbetoor, seventy-two miles south by east from Seringa-
patam.
Long. 77. 11. L. Lat. 11. 28. N.
DENARIUS, in Roman antiquity, the chief silver coin
among the Romans, worth in our money about sevenpence
three farthings. As a weight it was equal to the seventh
part of a Roman ounce. , , . „ r .
Denarius is also used in our law-books for an English
^ DENBIGH, a town, the capital of the county of that
name, in North Wales, 218 miles from London. It stands
at the foot of a craggy elevation near the centre of the
beautiful Vale of Clwyd. The town is well built, and the
views around it are very delightful, especially from the
ruins of an ancient castle demolished in the year 1646. It
is a corporate town; and, conjointly with Ruthin, Wrexham,
and Holt, returns one member to parliament, ihere is a
good market on Thursdays. The only manufactures are
shoes, leather, and gloves, which employ one third of the
population. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 2891,
in 1811 to 2714, in 1821 to 3195, and in 1831 to 3786.
DENBIGHSHIRE, a county of North Wales. I his
district, which in Welsh is called Sir Ihnbech,^ was in the
time of the Romans included in that part of Cambria oc¬
cupied by the Ordovices, and formed a portion ot Vene-
dotia, one of the minor partitions of Britannia Secunda.
The figure of Denbighshire is very irregular, continual¬
ly varying in length and breadth. Its length from north¬
west to south-east is about forty-eight miles, and its great¬
est breadth twenty miles, but in some parts it is not more
than eight miles. It is 170 miles in circumference, and is
computed to contain 731 square miles. On the north it
is bounded by the Irish Sea, on the north-east it is sepa¬
rated from Flintshire by the river Dee, on the south-east
by Shropshire, on the south by Montgomeryshire and
Merionethshire, and on the west it is separated from Caer¬
narvonshire by the river Conway. . t.-i.j
This county is divided into six hundreds, Isdulas, Isaled,
Ruthin, Yale, Bromfield, and Chirk. It includes one bo¬
rough, six market-towns, viz. Denbigh, Ruthin, Wrexham,
Holt, Llangollen, and Llanruost, and consists of fifty-seven
parishes. It is included in the Chester circuit; and, with
respect to ecclesiastical jurisdiction, it is undei the Aic -
bishop of Canterbury, partly in the thocese of Bangor, and
partly in that of St Asaph, the deanery of Duffiyn Clwyd
being in the former see. By the reform act it returns one
member to parliament for the county, and one is chosen
by the four burghs of Denbigh, Ruthin, Hole and the town
of Wrexham. The borough of Denbigh aff°rds ^
of earl to the noble family ot Fielding, and that of \ elver
ton derives the title of baron from the town of Kutl1 ' ,
The surface of the country is much diveiyfied, attord
in- a very great variety of scenery. The western parts are
rather mountainous, abounding with hills, upon which are
Den
sh
DEN
small lakes. The northern parts have the same character,
excepting that tract which stretches from Abergeley along
the sea-coast, which gradually slopes into the extensive plain
of Morva Rhyddlan. The celebrated Vale of Clwyd is a fine
scene. The land spreads on each side of a river of the same
name from its source to the sea, a distance of more than
twenty miles, and from about five to seven in breadth. The
mountains, which rise on each side, with their brown and
barren summits, form a fine contrast with the verdant
meads and luxuriant fields, which gratify the sight as far
as the eye can reach. Towns, villages, and seats, thickly
studded over its surface, tend still more to enliven the
scene, and to beautify this charming vale. The land includ¬
ed between the Alun and the Dee is fertile, pleasant, and
highly productive. The central parts of the hundred of
Isaled consist of bleak and barren hills, and the southern
comprise a large tract of land, devoid of wood, and pro¬
ductive of peat only, which principally affords the fuel of
the inhabitants. Yale is a mountainous region, chiefly
covered with heath, forming an excellent cover for grouse.
Bromfield, the most important part of this county in po¬
pulation and wealth, though sharing in the mountainous
character of the rest, furnishes a great proportion of rich
land.
The irregularities of the surface, and the variety of the
soils, produce a considerable difference in the climate of
Denbighshire. On the hills the air is sharp, being de¬
prived of its softness in its passage over Snowden and the
neighbouring hills. Still it is reckoned salubrious. The
atmosphere in the vales is milder. Duffryn Clwyd, being
open towards the sea,and defended by its mountain barriers,
is proverbially celebrated for its salubrity. The inhabitants
of this district are remarkable for their bright complexion,
cheerful countenances, and sound constitutions; a display
of vivacity in youth, and a vigour in age, not possessed in
less favoured situations ; longevity, therefore, ceases to be
remarkable, because it is here a common occurrence.
The principal rivers of this county are the Clwyd, the
Conway, and the Dee, neither of which are navigable in
those portions which pass through Denbighshire. The
lesser are Ceriog, rising on the western side, and forming
a junction with the Dee near Chirk Castle ; the Alun, com¬
mencing from Llandegla, and, after a most circuitous route,
falling into the Dee a little below the town of Holt. The
Ellesmere Canal passes through the southern part of the
county; but there is great difficulty in obtaining a suffi¬
cient supply of water to keep it navigable.
Rich veins of iron and lead ore and coal have been found
in various places ; and mines of these substances have been
opened in several districts. Slate of a durable quality is
worked in the southern parts, and meets with a great de¬
mand. Limestone is abundant; and freestone and other
siliceous substances are obtained in various parts.
In agricultural improvements few counties surpass Den¬
bighshire. The encouragement given for the amelioration
of the soil, by the establishment of two agricultural socie¬
ties, one in the Vale of Clwyd, and another in the neigh¬
bourhood of Wrexham, together with the co-operating
effects produced by SirWatkin Williams Wynne s show of
cattle and sheep, annually held at his seat, Y- ynnstay, with
a distribution of prizes on the occasion, is very visible in
the county. It is stated to contain 410,000 acres, of which
150,000 is arable land and 250,000 is pasturage. The
roads also, which used to be very bad, have been much
improved during the last few years.
The native horses are of a small size, but exceedingly
hardy. The cows are generally of the black kind, low
in stature, and yield milk of an excellent quality. I he
sheep are the light horned sort, producing wool well adapt¬
ed for the manufactures of the country. The goat, supe-
D E N 717
rior in size, and in the length and fineness of its hair, to Denbigh-
that of most other countries, is found here in its ferine shire,
and domesticated state. In an agricultural point of view,
the chief products are cattle, corn, and cheese. The latter
is in some parts not inferior to the best Cheshire.
Its manufactures chiefly consist of coarse cloth made in
the parish of Glynn, of flannels wrought from the coun¬
try wool, of cotton twist and Angola hose in the town of
Denbigh, of a small quantity of iron, and of a few harps at
Llanrwst.
Among the customs peculiar to this county, in common
with other parts of Wales, are those pertaining to mar¬
riages and burials. Their weddings are thus conducted:
When the marriage is agreed to be celebrated, a bidder,
that is, one whose charge is to bid or invite the guests, is
appointed. He must be a person of respectable charac¬
ter, and as well gifted with eloquence and address as can
be procured, as on his abilities the number of guests chiefly
depends. He is to be sufficiently skilled in pedigrees and
family anecdotes, in order to be able to introduce compli¬
ments derived from these sources. The purport of his
bidding is to request the attendance of the friends of the
young couple, and their benevolent presents, in order to
enable the new-married pair to begin life with comfort and
prosperity. These contributions are some article of fur¬
niture or money, and are regularly repaid, by gifts of a
similar kind, on a like occasion. By this custom, a deserv¬
ing young couple of the lower class are sometimes set up
in a state of comparative wealth.
Previously to a funeral, it is customary, when the corpse
is brought out of the house and laid upon a bier, for the
next of kin to distribute bread, cheese, and beer over the
coffin, to some poor persons of the same sex, and nearly of
the same age, as the deceased. This being done, all kneel
down, and the minister repeats the Lord’s prayer. At
every cross way they stop, and the same ceremony is re¬
peated, till they arrive at the place of interment. The fu¬
nerals are generally attended by immense crowds of people
of both sexes. All the graves are planted with the choicest
evergreens and flowers; so that a church-yard has all the
appearance of a beautiful well-managed flower-garden.
The peasantry of this county are firm believers in fai¬
ries, a diminutive race, clad in green, who hold their merry
dances invisibly by moonlight, footing it to lyric measures
on the verdant turf of their mountains, and leaving their
marks, in darkened circles, to the admiration of the be¬
holders. Allied to this race are the knockers, a species of
aerial beings, who, the miners say, are heard under ground,
and by their noises pointing out to the workman the place
where a rich vein of ore lies hid. The corpse candle is
a light proceeding from the dwelling of a person who is
shortly to die, to the churchyard where he is to be bu¬
ried. Witchcraft and the second-sight are also articles
of firm belief among the lower class.
Denbighshire contains several remains of ancient castles ;
that near the county town has been compared, with re¬
spect to its situation, to Stirling. It is placed on the sum¬
mit of a lofty hill, and assumes at a distance a most impos¬
ing appearance. From its present remains it appears to
have been a superb structure, and, from the strength of its
position, invulnerable except by heavy artillery, and irre¬
ducible, except in cases of treachery or famine. It is sup¬
posed to be of British foundation. I he castle of Ruthin
was built of red stone, and erected in the time of Ed¬
ward I. It stood on the side of a hill fronting the vale to
the west. The remains of this once proud pile consist of a
few fragments of towers and fallen walls, reduced nearly to
the foundations; and the area at present comprises a mea¬
dow, fives-court, and bowling-green. 1 here are also the
remains of a castle at Chirk, on the line of Offa s Dike;
718
DEN
DEN
Dendera
II
Deneb.
and another at Holt, built by Earl Warren in the reign of
Edward I. whose remains are now little attractive.
Its ecclesiastical antiquities consist of the remains of
St Hiliary’s Chapel, founded in 1579, by Dudley, earl of
Leicester, and a priory of Carmelites, or White Friars, in
the town of Denbigh. Llan Eqwert Abbey, a fine pic¬
turesque object, was a house of Cistertians founded in
1200, and generally known by the name of Valle Crucis.
Wrexham Church, formerly collegiate, and not only the
glory of the county, but ranked among the wonders of
Wales, was erected about the year 1472; but the tower
does not appear to have been finished till 1506. It exhibits
a specimen of the chaste proportions and moderate deco¬
rations of Henry VII.’s time.
Among the modern buildings, Wynnstay Hall, the hos¬
pitable mansion of Sir W. W. Wynne, and Chirk Castle,
the seat of the Honourable Mr West, deserve particular
notice.
The amount of population, from returns not of very cer¬
tain accuracy, in 1700 appears to have been 39,700, and
46,900 in 1750; but by the more correct returns of late
years it has been as follows, viz. 60,352 in 1801, 64,240
in 1811, 76,311 in 1821, and 82,800 in 1831. The annual
value of the real property, as assessed for the property-tax
of 1815, appears to have been L.22l,763.
DENDERA, a town of Egypt, on the western side of the
Nile. Near it are very magnificent ruins, supposed to be
those of an ancient temple of Serapis. It is 48 miles south-
south-east of Girge, and 242 south of Cairo. Long. 31.
40. E. Lat. 26. 10. N.
DENDERMONDE, sometimes called Termonde, the
capital of a circle of the same name, in the province of
East Flanders, in the Netherlands. It is at the junction of
the Dender with the Scheldt, is strongly fortified, and can
be defended by flooding the vicinity. It contains 1200
houses, with 5796 inhabitants.
DENDR ACHATES, in Natural History, the name
given to certain agates containing delineations of trees,
mosses, sea-plants, and the like, so elegantly represented
that many have erroneously taken them for real plants in¬
cluded in the substance of the stone.
DENDROMETER (from Sevdgov, a tree, and y,srgiu, I
measure), an instrument invented by Duncombe and
Whittel, for which they obtained a patent, and so called
from its use in measuring trees. It is fitted to a theodo¬
lite, and may be used either with or without it, as occa¬
sion requires.
The principal use of this instrument is for measuring
the length and diameter of any tree, perpendicularly or
obliquely to a horizontal plane, or in any situation of the
plane on which it rests, or of any figure, whether regular
or irregular, and also the length and diameter ot the
boughs, by mere inspection; and the inventors of it cal¬
culated tables, by the help of which the quantity of tim¬
ber in a tree may be obtained without calculation or the
use of the sliding rule.
Dendrometer, an instrument for measuring distances
by a single observation, proposed by Mr Pitt of Pende-
ford, near Wolverhampton. See Repertory of Arts, vol. i.
DENDROPHORIA, in Antiquity, the carrying of
boughs or branches of trees; a religious ceremony, so call¬
ed because certain priests, thence called dendrophori or
tree-bearers, marched in procession, carrying the branches
of trees in their hands in honour of some god, as Bacchus,
Cybele, and Sylvanus. The college of the dendrophori is
often mentioned on the ancient marbles ; and we frequent¬
ly see in basso-relievos the bacchanals represented as men
carrying little shrubs or branches of trees.
DENEB, an Arabic term signifying tail, and used by
astronomers to denote several fixed stars. Thus, deneb
elect signifies the bright star in the lion’s tail, and deneb Denh
adigege that in the swan's tail. p 111
DENHAM, Sir John, an eminent English poet, the benia.
only son of Sir John Denham, chief baron of the exche-
quer in Ireland, and one of the lords commissioners there,
was born at Dublin in 1615; but his father having, in
1617, been made a baron of the exchequer in England,
he received his education in that country. In his youth
he was greatly addicted to gaming; but in 1641 he pub¬
lished a tragedy called the Sophy, which was much ad¬
mired by the best judges; and in 1643 he composed his
Cooper s Hill, a poem which Dryden says will ever be the
standard of good writing for majesty of style. Denham
was sent as ambassador from Charles II. to the king of Po¬
land ; and at the Restoration he was made surveyor-general
of his majesty’s buildings, and created knight of the bath.
On obtaining this post he is said to have renounced his
poetry for more important studies. He died at his office
in Whitehall in 1668; and his works have since been often
printed. The sixth edition is that of 1719; and besides
this collection, Wood mentions several pieces, which are
either his productions, or have been ascribed to him.
“ Denham,” says Dr Johnson, “ is deservedly considered
as one of the fathers of English poetry. Denham and
Waller, according to Prior, improved our versification, and
Dryden perfected it. He appears to have had, in common
with almost all mankind, the ambition of being upon pro¬
per occasions a merry fellow; and, in common with most
of them, to have been by nature or by early habits de¬
barred from it. Nothing is less exhilarating than the lu¬
dicrousness of Denham. He does not fail for want of ef¬
forts : he is familial*, he is gross; but he is never merry,
unless the ‘ speech against peace in the close committee’
be excepted. For grave burlesque, however, the imitation
of Davenant shows him to have been well qualified. His
poem on the death of Cowley was his last, and, among his
shorter works, his best performance: the numbers are
musical, and the thoughts are just. Cooper s Hill is the
work that confers upon him the rank and dignity of an
original author. He seems to have been, at least amongst
us, the author of a species of composition that may be de¬
nominated local poetry, of which the fundamental subject
is some particular landscape, to be poetically described,
with the addition of such embellishments as may be sup¬
plied by historical retrospection or incidental meditation.
To trace a new scheme of poetry has in itself a very high
claim to praise, and its praise is yet more when it is ap¬
parently copied by Garth and Pope; after whose names
little will be gained by an enumeration of smaller poets.
He appeared to have been one of the first that understood
the necessity of emancipating translation from the drudgery
of counting lines and interpreting single words. How much
this servile practice obscured the clearest and deformed
the most beautiful parts of the ancient authors, may be dis¬
covered by a perusal of our earlier versions; some of them
the works of men well qualified, not only by a critical know¬
ledge, but by poetical genius, who yet, by a mistaken am¬
bition of exactness, degraded at once their originals and
themselves. Denham saw the better way, but has not pur¬
sued it with great success. His versions of Virgil are not
pleasing, but they taught Dryden to please better.”
DENIA, a small city of Spain, in the province of Va¬
lencia. It has a tolerable port, and is fortified with a
castle and batteries sufficient to protect it. The country
around is prolific in vines, and considerable quantities of
the grapes are dried here, and exported to England, and
various parts of the northern continent, amounting to about
3000 hundredweight annually. It contains 2000 inhabi¬
tants, five poor-houses, and two monasteries. Manufac¬
tures of linen and woollen cloth are carried on here.
lO
DEN
DENIER, a small French copper coin, of which twelve
make a sol. There are two kinds, the one tournois, the
other parisois, the latter of which was worth a fourth part
more than the former.
DENINA, Charles John Maria, an eminent Italian
writer, was born at Revel, in the principality of Piedmont,
in the year 1731. Having studied at Saluzzo, he was
about to enter into the order of the Grand Augustines at
Ceva, at the age of fifteen, when one of his uncles ap¬
pointed him to a benefice. He accordingly assumed the
ecclesiastical habit, and remained two years at Saluzzo,
where he learned a little divinity, and acquired a know¬
ledge of the French language through the medium of a
Swiss officer. In 1748 he obtained an exhibition, which
enabled him to prosecute his studies at the provincial
college in the University of Turin. Some time after¬
wards he took orders, and in 1753 he was appointed pro¬
fessor of humanity at Pignerol. In consequence, however,
of a quarrel with the Jesuits, he was obliged to quit Pig¬
nerol and the royal schools, and was sent to the schools
of an inferior order. In 1756, on taking his degree of
doctor in theology at the Palatine schools of Milan, he
printed his first work, which was a theological tract. After
this he was restored to the royal schools, and appointed
extraordinary professor of humanity and rhetoric at the
Superior College of Turin; and six months afterwards he
had the offer of the situation of an ordinary professor at
Chamb6ry, wdiich he refused. About this period he pro¬
jected, but did not execute, a work on the literary history
of Piedmont. His discourse On the vicissitudes of Litera¬
ture, which was printed in 1760, attracted a considerable
degree of attention, and drew upon him the vengeance of
Voltaire, who attacked him in his Homme aux quarante
ecus, published in 1767. The publication of the first vo¬
lume of his great work On the Revolutions of Italy ob¬
tained for him the professorship of rhetoric in the Supe¬
rior College of Turin; and twelve months afterwards, on
the publication of the second volume, he was preferred to
the chair of Italian eloquence, and of the Greek language,
at the university. The third volume, which was published
in 1771, was still more favourably received than the pre¬
ceding ; while at the same time it tended to augment the
number and to increase the virulence of his enemies.
The misfortune, however, which he now experienced, was
partly occasioned by his own indiscretion. A manuscript,
containing some obnoxious opinions, which he had en¬
trusted to Cambiagi at Florence, having been published
by authority of the Tuscan censors, but without that of
the censors of Turin, Denina was declared to be guilty of
an infraction of the Piedmontese laws, and punished with
great severity. His book was suppressed, and he was com¬
pelled to pay the costs. He was then banished to Vercelli,
and afterwards received orders to retire to his native pro¬
vince. Denina’s friend, the Abbe Costa d’Arignan, under¬
took his defence, and procured the restoration of part of
his annual pensions, with permission to return to Turin.
In 1782 he repaired to Berlin, having before his depar¬
ture received the honorary title of librarian to the king
of Sardinia. On his arrival at Berlin, Frederick II. ap¬
pointed him a member of the Royal Academy, but he
never became a favourite of that prince. He continued
to reside in Germany for many years, where he occupied
himself with literary pursuits, and published a variety ot
works. Being at Mentz in 1804, he was noticed by Na¬
poleon Bonaparte, who, in the month of October of that
year, appointed him his librarian. Denina accordingly
went to Paris, where he continued to reside until his
death, on the 5th of December 1813.
Denina is esteemed one of the most distinguished of
the later Italian authors. The work upon which his repu-
den 719
tation is principally founded is his History of the Revolu¬
tions oj Italy, of which an improved edition was published
at Turin in 1/82, in five volumes 4to. In this work the
facts are related with accuracy, and the narrative exhibits
considerable talents for history. Some able critics in the
Italian language have remarked that there is a great dif¬
ference between the style of this work and that of the
other writings of the same author; and Denina acknovv-
ledged that he had submitted his history to the review of
his friend the Abbe Costa d’Arignan, afterwards Cardi¬
nal and Archbishop of lurin, who made a good many ju¬
dicious corrections.
Denina.
The following is a list of his other works:—De Studio
Theologian et norma Jidei, 1758, 8vo. Discorso sopra le vi-
cende della Letteratura, 1760, 12mo, which was reprinted,
with additions, at Glasgow, in 1763, and has since gone
through several editions. Letter a di N. Daniel Caro (the
anagram of Carlo Denina), sopra il dovere de' ministri
evangelici di predicare colle istruzioni, e coll' esempio los-
servanza delle leggi civili, e specialmente in riguardo agl'
imposti, Lucca, 1762, 8vo. Saggio sopra la Letteratura
Italiana, con alcuni altri opuscoli, Lucca, 1762. This
work is a supplement to the first edition of his Revolutions
of Literature. Delle Lodi di Carlo Emmanuele III. re
di Sardegna, 1771, 4to and 8vo. Panegirico primo alia
Maesta di Vittorio Amedeo III. Turin, 1773, 4to and 8vo.
Panegirico secondo alia Maesta di Vittorio Amedeo III.
1775, 4to and 8vo, with notes. In 1777 he composed a
third panegyric on the same prince. Bibliopea, o larte
di compor libri, Turin, 1776, 8vo. Dell' impiego delle per-
sone, Florence, 1777. This was the work which gave so
much offence, and occasioned the persecution of the au¬
thor. It was reprinted at Turin, 1803, in 2 vols. small
8vo. Istoria politica e letteraria della Grecia, Turin,
1781-82, 4 vols. 8vo. Reprinted at Venice, 1783. Elo-
gio storico di Mercurino di Gattinara, Turin, 1782, 8vo.
Elogio del Cardinal Guala Bickieri, 1782, 8vo. Discours
au Roi de Prusse sur les progres des Arts, 1784, 12mo.
Viaggio Germanico, primo quaderno delle lettere Branden-
burgensi, Berlin, 1785, 8vo. A second series of these let¬
ters afterwards appeared. La Sibilla Teutonica, Berlin,
1786. Reprinted in the fourth volume of the Revolutions
of Literature. Reponse a la question ; Que doit on d I’Es-
pagne ? Berlin, 1786. This tract was translated into Spa¬
nish, and was also printed at the end of the later editions
of the Vicende. Lettres Critiques, a supplement to the
preceding, 1786, 8vo. Apologie de Frederic II. sur la pre¬
ference que la Roi parut donner d la Litterature Francaise.
Dessau, 1787, 8vo. Discours sur les Progres de la Littera-
ture dans le nord de VAllemagne, Berlin, 1788. Essai sur
la Vie et le Regne de Frederic II. Berlin, 1788, 8vo. La
Prusse Litter aire sous Frederic II. &c. Berlin, 1790-91,
3 vols. 8vo. This work may be considered as a supple¬
ment to the life of Frederic. Guide Litteraire, 1790-91,
8vo. The Russiad; a poem, 1799. It was translated
into French by M. Andre in 1809, under the title of
Pierre le Grand. The History of Piedmont, and of the
other States of the King of Sardinia ; translated into Ger¬
man by M. Frederick Strass, from the Italian manuscript
of Denina, Berlin, 1800-1805, 3 vols. 8vo. In this his¬
tory the narrative is brought down to the recovery of Tu¬
rin, under the reign of Victor Amadeus II. Revoluzioni
della Germania, Florence, 1804, 8 vols. 8vo. La CleJ
des Langues, ou Observations sur l' Origine et la Formation
de principales Langues quon parle et qu’on ecrit en Europe,
Berlin, 1804, 3 vols. 8vo. Tableau Historique, Statistique,
et Morale de la haute Italic, &c. Paris, 1805, 8vo. Essais
sur les traces anciennes du caractere des Italiens modernes,
&c. 1807, 8vo. Discorso istorico sopra Vorigine della ge-
rarchia e de' concordati frd la podesta Ecclesiastica e la Se-
i
720
DEN
DEN
Denizen
II
Denmark,
colare, 1808, 8vo. This work was afterwards suppressed.
In the Melanges de Philosophic, dHistoire, de Morale, el
de Litterature, No. 49, there is a long and severe article
upon the Discorso Istorico. Istoria della Italia occidentale,
1809, 6 vols. 8vo. Besides these works, Denina wrote
some other tracts, which were inserted in various journals.
There is a biographical account of Denina in the Ma-
gazin Encyclopediqae for January 1814, by M. Barbier.
See also the Biographic Universelle.
DENIZEN, in Law, an alien made a subject by the
king’s letters patent; otherwise called rfommcm, because
his legitimation proceeds ex donatione regis, “ rrom t le
klA denizen is a kind of middle state between an alien
and a natural-born subject, and partakes of both. He may
take lands by purchase or devise, which an alien may not ;
but he cannot take by inheritance, for his parent, throug
whom he must claim, being an alien, had no inheritable
blood, and therefore could convey-none to the son; and, DenizW
upon a like defect of blood, the issue of a denizen born 1| J
before denization cannot inherit, but his issue born after Denmark;
may. A denizen is not excused from paying the alien’s
duty, and some other mercantile burdens. No denizen
can be of the privy-council, or either house of parliament,
or hold any office of trust, civil or military, or receive
any grant of lands, &c. from the crown.
DEN1ZLEY, or Degnizla, a town of Asia Minor, in
the province of Natolia, pleasantly situated on a low hill,
towards the southern part of a spacious plain, amidst vine¬
yards, the produce of which is partly converted into raisins,
and partly affords a syrup resembling treacle, which is
substituted on all occasions for sugar. Lofty mountains
appear in the horizon covered with snow. About the year
1715 it was visited by a dreadful earthquake, in which
12,000 of the inhabitants perished. It is 108 miles east-
south-east from Smyrna. Long. 29. 13. E. Lat. 37. 51. N.
DENMARK,
History.
Maritime
expedi¬
tions of the
Danes.
Settled in
the east
part of
England.
A kingdom in the north of Europe, limited in extent
and population, but known in history since an early period
of the Christian era. There is no authentic account o
the origin of the name of Denmark, nor of the quarter
from which the country received its early inhabitants.
From the similarity of the Danish and German languages,
as well as from the general course of migration in early
ages, it seems probable that Denmark was peopled by
immigrants from the southward; from Holstein, Hanover,
and Saxony. There are no means of ascertaining whether
natives of Denmark formed part of the formidable hordes
which passed the Roman frontiers in the fifth and sixth
centuries; but the attacks on this empire were proba¬
bly made by tribes less remote, the expeditions of the
Danes being in general maritime. For such expeditions
they were remarkable as early as the eighth and ninti
centuries, as was proved by their repeated invasions of
England, their occasional descents on Scotland, and their
conquest, followed by permanent occupation, of Normandy.
To cross a sea of three or four hundred miles in breadth
was a bold undertaking for men unacquainted with the
use of the compass; but the number of islands in Den¬
mark early accustomed the inhabitants to navigation, and
gave them a practical dexterity in it, similar to that ac¬
quired by the Dutch from their vicinity to arms of the
sea, and to the mouths of great rivers. Both countries
proved the advantage of a maritime position, for in those
days neither France nor England were capable of sending
forth a naval armament.
At the period in question, or rather somewhat later,
viz. about the early part of the tenth century, commences
the authentic history of Denmark. Till then the country,
ill cultivated and thinly peopled, seems not to have been
subject to one sovereign, but to have obeyed provincial or
local rulers, like England during the Heptarchy. Alfred
had, it is well known, various conflicts with those north¬
ern invaders ; but he had the judgment eventually to sus¬
pend hostilities, and to assign to them a portion of his ter¬
ritories. He knew how small a part of England was cul¬
tivated, and he considered that there was ample room in
the country for both Dane and Saxon. 1 he establishment
thus given to the Danes in England, and the subsequent
arrival of bodies of their countrymen, joined to the talents
of two of their princes, Swane and Canute, enabled the
latter to acquire the crown of England. Canute completed
the conquest begun by his father, and became king of
England as well as of Denmark in the year 101/. he re¬
sided generally in this country, and left the crown to his
sons Harold and Hardi-Canute. On the death of the lat¬
ter, without male heirs, the Danish dynasty in England
came to a close in 1041. After the eleventh century, we
read of no invasion of England by the Danes, although a
considerable proportion of the inhabitants of our eastern
and northern countries were doubtless descended from
Danish settlers.
The progress of society and the course of political Similari
events in Denmark resembled in several points those ofties in h
our own country. The feudal system was introduced1™11 and
there in the twelfth century, which, as well as the thir-Jg™
teenth, were marked in Denmark, as in England, by con- ■
tentions between the sovereign and the barons, and by
concessions from the former in the style of Magna Charta.
About the thirteenth century, the population of towns in
Denmark, as in Germany and the central parts of Europe,
though still very small, became such as to entitle them to
obtain from the crown charters of incorporation, and an
exemption from the control of the barons, in whom was
vested almost the whole property of the land. A regular
constitution began now to be formed in Denmark; and
the towns sent deputies or representatives to the states
or parliament, which, it was enacted, should meet once a
year. It was also ordered that the laws should be uniform
throughout the kingdom, and that no tax should be im¬
posed without the authority of parliament.
It would be tedious and uninteresting to recapitulate
the successive sovereigns of Denmark in the middle ages,
of whom few were of distinguished ability. The names of
most frequent occurrence among them in those early times
were Canute, Valdemar, and Eric. Those of Christiern or
Christian and Frederick were of later date. One of the
most remarkable of the Danish sovereigns in the middle
ages was Valdemar II., who succeeded to the crown in
1203, and some time afterwards proceeded to Livonia, in
which his predecessors had endeavoured to introduce Chi is-
tianity. He found no great difficulty in defeating bodies
of men so little advanced in civilization as to be clothed m
the skins of wild beasts; but a country in so barbarous a
state presented little attraction in either a commercial or
political sense; so that the Danes found little inducement
to extend their settlements on the southern shores of the
The chief mercantile intercourse of Denmark in those
times was with Lubeck and the north-west of Germany, and Uai
To the Baltic Lubeck was nearly what Venice was to thezic.
wy.
Uni of
Cali if.
Mediterranean, the earliest commercial town of conse-
' quence. There was also some traffic from Denmark to the
mouths of the Vistula ; the name of Dantzic or Dansvik
(Danish town or port) indicating that a Danish colony,
aware of the advantages of the situation, had established
itself there.. The more remote provinces of Courland
and Esthonia were also an object of ambition with the
Danes ; but they did not find it practicable to keep settle¬
ments there. Holstein was more within their control, and
much more advantageous, from the comparative civilization
of its inhabitants.
At the time of which we are now treating, namely, the
fourteenth century, the association of the Hans Towns had
acquired considerable strength, and asserted strenuously
the freedom of commerce in the north of Europe. Den¬
mark, possessing the great entrance into the Baltic by the
Sound, was the power most interested in laying merchant
vessels under a toll or regular contribution ; and the result
was repeated contentions, followed at times by open war,
between the Danish government and this powerful con¬
federacy.
The most important event in the history of Denmark
or indeed of Scandinavia, in the middle ages, was the con¬
junct submission of Sweden, Denmark, and Norway to
one sovereign, by the compact or union of Calmar, in the
year 1397. The circumstances were as follows : Valdemar
III., king of Denmark, having died in the year 1378, left
two daughters, of whom the second, Margaret, was mar¬
ried to Haquin or Haco, king of Norway. On the demise
of her husband the government of Norway remained in
her hands; and afterwards, on the death of her son, who
had been declared king of Denmark, the states or parlia¬
ment of that country fixed this princess on the throne, on
her consenting to extend and secure their rights and pri¬
vileges. The states of Norway followed their example ;
so that Margaret, finding herself seated on the thrones of
Denmark and Norway, directed her attention to that of
Sweden, the succession to which would have fallen to her
husband Haquin had he survived. The Swedes were di¬
vided into two parties, that of Margaret, and that of a
Duke of Mecklenburg, who, though unconnected with the
royal family of Sweden, claimed to be king by election.
Margaret, a princess of great activity and ambition, was
indefatigable in obtaining the support of the clergy and
nobility of Sweden ; an appeal to arms took place, and the
result was favourable to the cause of the queen, her com¬
petitor being defeated and made prisoner. In 1397 the
states of the three kingdoms were convoked at Calmar,
a town centrally situated for such an assemblage, being
in the south of Sweden. There they concurred in pass¬
ing the well-known act called the Union of Calmar, the
purport of which was, that the three kingdoms should
henceforth be under one sovereign, who should, however,
be bound to govern each according to its respective laws
and customs. To guard against their separation, it was
enacted, that if a sovereign should leave several sons,
one of them only should be the ruler of the three kingdoms,
the other holding fiefs under him ; and in the event of the
reigning king or queen dying without children, the sena¬
tors and parliamentary deputies of the three kingdoms
should jointly proceed to the election of another sovereign,
that the union of the kingdoms might be maintained.
Such were the precautions taken by this vigilant and
able princess, who has been called the Semiramis of the
North, in order to banish war and political dissensions
from Scandinavia. For a time they were successful, and
peace and concord were maintained during the lifetime of
Margaret and two of her successors. But the union, as
regarded the Swedes, was far from being cordial; they
submitted reluctantly to a foreign family, and considered
VOL. VII.
DENMARK.
721
themsolves as obliged to act in subserviency to the political History.
Views of Denmark. They saw the chief places of trust in Wy-i
t ien country conferred on Danish or German ministers, and
viewed these foreigners with as much jealousy as the Bel-
gians in our day felt towards the Hollanders introduced by
the house of Orange. These and other causes prevented the
union of Sweden from being cordial or complete. Local
insurrections, fomented by particular classes, and strength¬
ened by national antipathy, occurred from time to time
during the century, or somewhat more, that the union of
Ca mar continued in existence. At last the severity, or
rather cruelty, of one of the Danish kings, Christian II
and the appearance of an able assertor of Swedish inde¬
pendence in Gustavus Vasa, a man of rank, led to an in¬
surrection, which beginning in the northern province of
Dalecarha, extended throughout Sweden, and led to a defi¬
nitive separation of the two crowns in the year 1523.
In 1490 the reigning king of Denmark made a commer- Sound
ciai treaty with Henry VII. of England, by which the Eng- dues paid
hsh engaged to pay the Sound dues on all vessels entering by English
or returning from the Baltic; and in return they were af_vessels-
lowed to have mercantile consuls in the chief sea-ports of
Denmark and Norway. By this time the extension of trade
had given rise in Denmark, as in England, to a middle
class, among whom the sovereign found in each country
the means of balancing the political weight of the nobi-
Jity; hence a grant was made by the kings of Denmark
of various privileges to traders, and relief from a number
of local imposts on the transit of merchandise.
The rude habits of the age were strongly marked by the Plunder-
difficulty which the Danish government found in putting ing ship-
a stop to the practice of plundering merchantmen ship- wrecked
wrecked on the coast. Vessels proceeding to and from theves£els‘
Baltic necessarily approached the coast of Jutland, particu¬
larly in an age when the ignorance of mariners led to their
considering the vicinity of the land in the light of a pro¬
tection. Shipwrecks were consequently of frequent oc¬
currence there, and were generally turned to the profit
of the nobility, who were proprietors of the maritime
districts; and not of the land only, but of the persons
of the peasantry; for a state of personal bondage was
until lately maintained in Denmark. The practice was
to collect in the vicinity of a wreck such a number of
the inhabitants as to prevent the master or mariners from
opposing the seizure of the merchandise. Even bishops
residing on the coast, though humane in their treatment
of the crews, did not scruple to aid in taking forcible pos¬
session of the cargo ; so crude were in those days the no¬
tions of justice towards merchants. It is a remarkable
fact, that a law passed by the king about the year 1521 for
the prevention of these practices, was abrogated and pub¬
licly burned at the instance of the barons and clergy a
few years after, when a new sovereign had succeeded to
the crown.
The doctrines of the Reformation happily found their The re¬
way into Denmark at an early date, Frederick I. whof0fm®d
reigned in 1525, and had formerly been duke of Holstein, h]tro-
having then embraced the Protestant religion. The in-
habitants of Denmark being divided between the Catho¬
lics and Protestants, Frederick began by an edict for to¬
lerating both religions. An assembly of the states or parlia¬
ment next passed a solemn act for the free preaching of the
reformed faith, and for allowing ecclesiastics of any class
to marry and reside in any part of the kingdom. The con¬
sequence of this was a reduction of the number of the in¬
mates of abbeys, monasteries, and convents, along with
the general diffusion of the Lutheran faith throughout the
kingdom. This rapid progress enabled the succeeding so¬
vereign, Christian III. to act like Henry VIII. of England,
by annexing the church-lands to the crown, and strength-
4 Y
722
History.
War of re¬
ligion in
Germany.
DENMARK.
Disputes
with Ham¬
burg.
Wars with
Sweden.
ening the power of the sovereign at the expense of that
of the clergy.
Contests between Catholics and Protestants in Germany
began in the middle of the sixteenth century, but it was
not till 1618 that they led to continued war. ihe Catho¬
lics were headed by the house of Austria, and, to oppose
that formidable union, the Protestant princes, consisting ot
the electors of Brandenburg, Saxony, and others, former
themselves into a league, and sought assistance from Ho-
land, England, Denmark, and other Protestant states. 1 e
king of Denmark acceded to the league, and was for some
years commander of its forces in Saxony; but he was une¬
qual to the task of opposing the Austrians, and the manage¬
ment of the war was transferred to more vigorous hands,
to those of Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, whose earee,
unfortunatelv too short, came to a close at Lutzen in
hour of victory in 1632. He left, however several able
officers trained in his school, who maintained the contest
with the Catholics until the peace of Westphalia mlOdb
The Danish frontier comprising the lower part of the
right bank of the Elbe, differences occasionally occurred
between Hamburg and the court of Copenhagen. Ihe
latter urged that a toll or duty ought to be paid to Den¬
mark on Vessels sailing up the river, and sought to raise
the small port of Gluckstadt, on the Danish side of tl e
Elbe, to l rival ship with Hamburg. These and other
causes led, in 1630, to a contest between Denmark and
that mercantile republic, which for a time wore a serious
aspect, but was happily settled without much blooddie .
Further discussions occurred subsequently with Ham
burg; but the causes being local, and the result seldom o
general interest, we pass them ovei.
Towards the middle of the seventeenth century a e-
newal of political jealousy, followed by hostilities, too
place between Denmark and Sweden. Ihe first contes
lasted from 1637 to 1645, and the treaty concluded in the
latter year proved rather a truce than a peace. 1 he Da¬
nish government formed an alliance with Hoi and and
aided that republic in her sanguinary contest in ^ with
England when under the authority of Cromwell. Ihe king
of Sweden at that time was Charles Gustavus, a prince in
the vigour of life, and actuated by all the ambition and
enterprise of the house of Vasa. He had carried his mi¬
litary operations into Poland, which then, as at other
times, seemed to invite the presence of foreigners by its
political divisions. But on learning the hostile disposition
of the Danish government, Charles withdrew his Hoops
from Poland, entered Holstein, and overran the whole
province. As soon as the winter had advanced, and it had
become practicable to cross the arms of the sea separating
the Danish islands from the main land on the me, the
Swedish army traversed in that manner the Tittle belt,
took Odensee, the capital of the island of Funen, and even
invested Copenhagen. That capital was not without a mi¬
litary force, but its walls were weak, nor was it adequately
supplied with provisions or military stores. On this oc¬
casion the Danes, with their king Frederick HE at their
head, discovered great firmness, and resisted the efforts
of the Swedes, until, under the mediation of the English
convoy at the court of Copenhagen, hostilities were sus¬
pended, and a treaty signed; ^-hich, however was but
partly carried into execution. Dissatisfied at the delay
which took place, Charles Gustavus made a second at¬
tempt on Copenhagen in the autumn of 1658 ; but he found
it impracticable to prevent supplies being introduced into
the city by sea, the Dutch coming to the assistance of
their Danish allies. Still the Swedes PerslsJed m the siege,
and in the depth of winter (in February 16o9), made an
attempt to take Copenhagen by storm. The attacks were
made on three points, each headed by an able commander,
—
but each was unsuccessful, and the siege was necessarily Historr
converted into a blockade. Soon afterwards the king of\-v ^
Sweden died, and this sanguinary contest was brought to
cl cl0S6.
In die following year, 1660, the vicissitudes of war were Revolu.
succeeded by a remarkable revolution in domestic politics, tion int;
The reigning king of Denmark had gained great popula-^stitu,
rity, as well by his spirit and firmness in the field, as by
resisting claims made by the nobility to the disadvantage
of the other orders of the state. He was thus assured of
the support of the middle classes in any attempt to re¬
duce the power of the nobility. On assembling the states
or parliament, the representatives of the diffeient towns
were found sufficiently strong, when united with the clergy
and strengthened by the power of the crown, to outweigh
the influence of the nobility, and the court determined to
act with vigour in extending its prerogative. The politi¬
cal contest began about the crown lands, which had hi¬
therto been let to nobles only, and at very low rents; it
was proposed and carried in the parliament, that men of
any class or station might be candidates for them, and
that they should be let to the highest bidder. Ihe next
proposition of the clergy and commons was, that the
crown, hitherto in some degree elective, should be so no
longer, but should devolve, as a matter of light, on the
lawful heir, whether male or female. To a people who had
suffered so greatly from the contentions of factions, this
proposition was highly acceptable; the nobility also felt the
necessity of concurring in the measure, which was follow¬
ed by an alteration in the coronation oath of the sove¬
reign. That oath had hitherto specified explicitly the
rights of the nobility, but it henceforth contained no sti¬
pulation on the part of the sovereign. The record or ori¬
ginal of the oath which the reigning king had signed at his
accession, and which limited his authority, was surrender¬
ed to him, and an engagement of unqualified allegiance
was then taken by each of the orders. These important
changes were, some time afterwards, followed by an act
or law still more comprehensive and absolute, the sove-
reign being invested with unlimited power, and declared
to possess the right to make, repeal, and interpret any
law, or to enter into any engagement without reference
to parliament. This applied equally to foreign and domes¬
tic affairs: in short, whatever power could be shown to
have belonged to any ruler in any country, was forthwith
to be understood as belonging to the king of Denmark.
This remarkable change in the form of the government
is to be explained chiefly by the repugnance of the peo¬
ple of Denmark to the ascendency of the nobility. Hie
French revolution proceeded from causes somewhat simi¬
lar • but in Denmark the control possessed by the privileged
class was not tempered, as in France, by civilized and re¬
fined habits. The direct authority of the nobles was also
greater, for they possessed the power ot life and deatn
over their vassals. Many of them attempted to resist the
change, but without success, so powerful was the union o
the people and the sovereign. Frederick lived ten years
after this singular revolution ; a period which enabled him
to consolidate it, and to reinstate in peace the trade and
finances of his country. , , p a. Uptip- i
His successor, animated by the ardour of youth, dev- ^
ated from a pacific course, and ventured to ™ake J^swed!
against Sweden. He relied on the aid of the Elector of
Brandenburg, commonly called the Great Elector; the po
session of so extensive a country as Prussia placing him
quite at the head of the princes of the empire. Swedish
Pomerania was chosen as the scene of operations, fro
being open to attack by the Prussians; the Swedes were
overmatched in force, but being well commanded, they
made a firm and spirited resistance. By sea the Dane
DENMARK.
fl|poiiy. had the advantage, having the aid of a Dutch squadron
commanded by the well-known Van Tromp. This enabled
them to convey an invading force to Schonen or Scania,
the southern and most fertile province of Sweden. Here
the forces of the Swedes were brought to bear against their
opponents, with the advantage of vicinity to their supplies;
nearly in the same way that the military means of France'
were at that time concentrated in Flanders and Alsace
against those of more distant powers. The result was
that the Danes were obliged to retreat from Scania, and’
after several alternations of success, peace was signed be¬
tween the two kingdoms in 1679, the year after the treaty
of Nimeguen had suspended the war in the central part
of Europe. As usual, after much bloodshed and fluctua¬
tion of fortune, the adverse states were placed by the
treaty in nearly the same situation as at the commence¬
ment of the war; but a hope of peace for the future was
raised by a marriage between the young king of Sweden,
Charles XL, and a princess of Denmark.
This hope was realized during twenty years ; and peace
continued until 1699, when, Charles XI. having died, the
reigning king of Denmark, Frederick IV., was tempted by
the youth of Charles XII. of Sweden to invade the domi¬
nions of his ally the Duke of Holstein. Frederick was
little aware of the spirit of his opponent, who became af¬
terwards so well known in the wars of the north of Eu¬
rope. Charles, determined to strike at once at his ene¬
my’s capital, lost no time in crossing the narrow sea between
Sweden and Denmark, and in investing the city of Copen¬
hagen. The inhabitants in alarm appealed to the humanity
of the young monarch, and the result was the speedy con¬
clusion of peace, with the payment of a sum of money to
the Swedes. Taught by this lesson, the Danish govern¬
ment remained neutral in the following years, when the
course of events led Charles and his army into Poland
and Saxony. There success attended him year after year,
until his adventurous march into the heart of the Ukraine
in 1708. The Swedes w'ere even then superior to their
uncivilized opponents, but no discipline would bear up
against privations and absolute want. The consequence
was the loss of the battle of Pultowa, the capture of the
Swredish army, and the flight into Turkey of its romantic
leader. The king of Denmark then found himself inde¬
pendent, and eagerly embraced the opportunity of renew¬
ing hostilities with Sweden, invading both Flolstein in the
south, and the province of Scania to the north. Scania
was badly provided with troops, but it had officers trained
in one of the best military schools of the age, and a pea¬
sant^ full of national antipathy towards the Danes. The
result was a spirited attack on the invading army, followed
by its defeat and precipitate flight into Denmark. The
war wras then carried on with alternate success in different
parts; in Pomerania, in Holstein, and in Norway, until at
last the military career of Charles XII. came unexpected¬
ly to a close in the end of 1718. Some time afterwards,
negotiations were opened between Sweden and Denmark,
under the mediation of England, and ended in 1720 in a
definitive treaty of peace.
ilicy The Danish government had now ample experience of
the sacrifices attendant on war, and of the expediency, to
fter a state of such limited power, of avoiding political colli¬
sions. It consequently adopted a course to which it has
almost ever since endeavoured to adhere, the system of
continued peace. In that wise determination its govern¬
ment took by a century the lead of our own, and from
causes easily explained. A dread of formidable neigh¬
bours, and the evident necessity of husbanding the na¬
tional resources, caused in Denmark, at that comparative¬
ly early period, an aversion from war ; but in a country so
powerful, and in general so successful in war, as England,
723
Tli<
off.
mar
172
cifit
a much severer lesson was required; nor did our govern- History,
ment sufficiently appreciate the evils of war until some
time after the close of the late contest, when we became
awaie of the real magnitude of our burdens, and awakened
to the immense sacrifices attendant on continued hostili¬
ties, even when accompanied by victory.
It was towards the middle of the eighteenth century that The minis-
the family of Bernstorff became known in the councils oftry ofBern-
Denmark, the first minister of that name, a man of superior storff-
talent and information, having come forward at that time.
By the prudence of the ministry, and the pacific disposition
of the sovereign, Denmark was kept from taking part in
the war begun in Germany in 1740, as well as in the more
general contest begun in the same country in 1756.
Frederick V. of Denmark was twice married, and died in Counts
1766, leaving a son by each wife. The crown devolved ofStruen-
course on the elder, his son by the first wife, who tooksee aild
the name of Christian VII. He was a weak prince, and ®ran(*t-
listened too readily to the insinuations of his step-mother,
whose secret wish was to secure the succession of the
crown to her own son, and who did not scruple, with that
view, to sow discord between Christian and his young con¬
sort, a princess of England, and youngest daughter of
George II. The circumstances were these : A German ad¬
venturer named Struensee had ingratiated himself into the
favour of Frederick V., the late king, and had found means
to be appointed his prime minister, a situation which he
was ill qualified to fill. He continued to hold the place
under Christian, and was introduced to the young queen
as her husband’s confidential minister. On this the queen
dowager founded an intrigue, and succeeded in persuading
the king that the queen, in concert with Struensee and his
friend Count Brandt, had formed a project to set him aside,
and to get herself declared regent of the kingdom. By
working on the fears of this weak prince, the queen dow¬
ager prevailed on him to authorize the arrest of the queen
and the two ministers. The latter were confined in dun¬
geons, and Struensee was accused of having abused his
authority as minister, and of other criminal acts. As there
was no proof of these acts, recourse was had to the barba¬
rous alternative of torture, the dread of which led Stru¬
ensee to declare, in the form of a confession, much to the
injury of the young queen, which is now considered as un¬
founded. This, however, did not enable him to escape;
for he and Count Brandt were both beheaded in April
1772, whilst the queen consort was, at the instance of the
British government, allowed to retire and to pass the short
remainder of her life at Zell, in Hanover, repeatedly but
fruitlessly demanding an open trial. This ill-fated princess
died in her twenty-third year, without the satisfaction of
knowing that the author of her misfortunes, the queen
dowager, had lost her influence at the court of Denmark.
One of the principal political questions between Eng-The armed
land and Denmark occurred in the year 1780, in the midst neutrality
of our war with France, Spain, and the North American 17d0.
colonies. During that arduous contest, England, superior
at sea, had no difficulty in obtaining, by her own merchant¬
men, a supply of hemp, cordage, and other naval stores,
from the Baltic, whilst France and Spain trusted to receiv¬
ing such supplies by neutral vessels. But our government
denied the right of neutrals to carry warlike stores; and
the northern powers, headed by the ambitious Catherine of
Russia, entered int6 a compact, called the armed neutra¬
lity, by which, without resorting to actual hostility, they
sought to overawe this country, and to continue the ques¬
tionable traffic. Happily no bloodshed followed this di¬
plomatic menace, and the question fell to the ground in
1782, on the negotiation for a general peace.
The king of Denmark, subject all along to imbecility,
became, after 1784, quite incapable of governing. His son,
724 DENMARK.
History, the crown prince, was therefore appointed regent, and soon
Such continued the situation of the two countries during Statist^
nassed several judicious enactments. The peasants living five years, when at last the overthrow of Bonaparte in Rus- ''■""Y'v
on the crown lands were gradually emancipated, an exam- sia opened a hope of deliverance to those who were mvo-
nle followed by a number of the nobility on their respec- luntarily h,s allies. The Danish government would now
live properties. In the abolition of the African slave trade gladly have made peace with England ; but our ministry
Denmark had the honour of taking the lead among the go- in order to secure the cordial co-operation of Russia and
vernments of Europe. The crown prince, guided by the Sweden, had gone so far as to guarantee to these powers
counsels of Count Bernstorff, son of the minister already the cession of Norway on the part of Denmark. The Danes,
mentioned, long remained neutral in the political convul- ill prepared for so great a sacrifice, contmued their connec-
sion engendered by the French Revolution. He conti- tion with France during the eventful year 1813; but at
nued to adhere stedfastly to this plan until in 1801 the the close of that campaign a superior force was directed
Emperor Paul of Russia having, as in the case of the arm- by the alhed sovereigns against^ Holste'^and Jh(^result
J
ed neutrality, fonued a compact of «he northern powej
Lord Nel
son’s at
hostile to England, a British fleet was sent into the Bal- January 1814, j . c j
tic under the orders of Sir Hyde Parker, with Lord Nelson mark should cede Norway to Sweden, and that Sweden,
ticunuei uieorueisui _ J in return, should give up Pomerania to Denmark. But
Pomerania being too distant to form a suitable appendage
as his second in command. .
It was this fleet which taught the Danes that their ca¬
pital-was not impregnable, and that the long line of men
tack on Co-war moored in front of the harbour was an insufficient
penhagen. defence against such enterprising opponents. The attack
took place on 2d of April 1801; and the resistance of the
Danes was spirited, but fruitless. Our loss in killed and
wounded exceeded 1000 men, but that of our opponents
was much greater, and most of their shipping vyas destroy¬
ed. Happily little injury was done to the capital. A ces-
to the Danish territory, was exchanged fora sum of money
and a small district in Lauenburg adjoining Holstein. On
the part of England, the conquests made from Denmark in
the East and West Indies were restored ; all, in short, that
had been occupied by British troops, excepting the small
island of Heligoland.
Twenty years have now elapsed since Denmark was ob¬
liged to purchase peace by the cession of Norway. That
sation of hostilities took place forthwith, and was followed period has been passed by her government in the manner
bv a treaty of peace. The death of the Emperor Paul, most likely to heal the wounds so unfortunately and un-
which occurred1^ soon afterwards, dissolved the compact justly inflicted upon her by foreign powers. Denmark has
wmcn occurreu suun a t followed a course strictly pacific : she has been a party to
CtBuTno treaty of peace could be regarded as permanent no projects against her neighbours, to no schemes ofmo-
durin-T the ascendency of Bonaparte. After defeating, first nopoly or national aggrandisement. The seizure of her
Austria and then Prussia, that extraordinary man found fleet in 1807, and the sharp conflicts with the Eng ish
t’o obtain the confidence of the Emperor Alexander which continued during the war, long made our name an
Ss “a and in the autumn oflBOV fh eatened to make object of dislike among the Danes ; but the odium is now
ot Itussia, ana in me auium Aui_..„n lessened by the confidence with which our monied inte-
attacked.
geLgain charge o'f^
a fleet and an^army, in order to compel the surrender of the a high price on the London Exchange.
Danish navy upon condition of its being restored at a peace. statistics of Denmark.
To such a demand the crown prince gave an immediate statistics oh
negative, declaring that he was both able and willing to The population of the Danish dominions in the year
maintain his neutrality, and that his fleet could not be 1832 was as follows Inhabitants
audsootf,obliged Zealand and the lesser islands adjoining, nearly...400,000
terMfils safety by nns soiooo
This act, the most questionable in point of justice of Jutland.
any committed lay the British government during the war, jylocege or pV0Vince 0f Aalborg 180,000
can hardly be defended on the score of policy. I he bat- vy    60,000
tie of Trafalgar had ere this been fought; and after that AaJrhuus 120,000
great victory our superiority at sea was so decisive as to or nypen 180,000
exempt us from the necessity of offending foreign powers   
by adopting extreme measures. The resentment felt on In ^   540,000
that occasion by the Emperor of Russia was so great as to   360,000
deprive us during four arduous years of the benefit of Ins tt   404,000
‘ .,1 tNa lyonich flppt sn pxasnerat- A0
War be¬
tween
England
and Den¬
mark.
alliance ; and the seizure of the Danish fleet so exasperat-    40,000
ed the crown prince and the nation at large, that tliey fort i- Remote Possessions.
with declared war against England, throwing themselves < _ 51,000
'Thrit^s’hereL^S and Denmark were   ^
not unfrequently with success. In regard to trade, both
nations suffered severely; the British merchantmen in the
Baltic being much annoyed by Danish cruizers, whilst the
foreign trade of Denmark was in a manner suspended by
our naval superiority.
St John)
47,000
East Indies (Tranquebar, and factories on the
coast of
■s ^xiamjucua,,   connn
Coromandel)  60’0()0
In
  2,200,000
DENMARK. 725
gtijitics. The island of Zealand contains about 2800 square miles
of territory, corresponding in extent to two middle-sized
Zej counties in England. Its surface is in general flat, and
an<j10 only a few feet higher than the level of the sea. Its as-
pect is the most pleasant of any part of the territory of
isa Denmark; but in other respects it is greatly behind Eng¬
land or the Netherlands. Though personal slavery has
been abolished among the peasantry of Denmark since the
beginning of the present century, there yet remain many
traces of the feudal system. Having hardly any capital,
the tenants, even in Zealand, pay their rent in produce,
or by the labour of themselves and their cattle. It is only in
the present age that Danish landholders have considered
their peasantry as entitled to take land on lease. Tithes
are still collected by government; and one portion of the
collection is for the church as a body, another for indivi¬
dual clergymen, and a third for the royal treasury. A sti¬
pulated amount in labour is supplied by the tenantry, for
the maintenance of roads, bridges, and a few charitable
institutions.
The island of Zealand contains Copenhagen, the capi¬
tal, and Elsinore, a well-known sea-port. Roschild, the
ancient capital, is a small place. Funen, the island next
in extent to Zealand, is about fifty miles in length, and
forty in breadth ; its chief town, Odensee, is small, though
of great antiquity. After these come the smaller islands
of Laaland, Langeland, Falster, and Bornholm, the last si¬
tuated at some distance in the Baltic. In the islands, as
on the mainland, a part of the crown lands is let on easy
terms to tenants, who become bound to carry certain im¬
provements into effect.
In a country where the provincial towns are so small as
;-ts si-in Denmark, the capital claims an extra share of attention,
tu:sn andbeing almost the only place suitable for trade or manufac-
ex 1 tures on a large scale. Its population is nearly 120,000,
having doubled in the course of a century. Its aspect
from the water is very fine; nor does a near view disap¬
point expectation, most of the streets being of modern
construction, owing partly to the augmented population,
and partly to the extent of re-building necessary after the
great fires of 1728 and 1794*. In the eleventh century Co¬
penhagen was merely a collection of the huts of fishermen ;
in the twelfth it became fortified ; in the thirteenth, being
further fortified, its population increased; in the fourteenth
a charter of incorporation was conferred on it by the go¬
vernment; and finally, in the fifteenth century (1443), it
became the residence of the court, and the seat of a uni¬
versity. Till then Roschild, a small inland town in the
same island (Zealand), had been the seat of government.
The extension of Copenhagen was owing chiefly to its
good harbour, and to the security imparted to it both by
sea and land, in consequence of its fortifications.. In the
sixteenth century a further advantage was obtained, by
putting under cultivation the adjacent island of Amak. In
that age Denmark, like England, was very backward in
gardening and in the useful arts, compared to Flanders;
and a queen of Denmark, a native of the Low Countries,
caused a little colony of Flemings to be brought over and
established in the island in question, which has ever since
supplied the capital with fruits, pulse, and vegetables.
Copenhagen has a royal bank, and is the seat of the chief
public establishments. It has manufactures of linen, sail¬
cloth, woollens, leather; and also extensive dock-yaids.
The shipping belonging to it is about five hundred vessels,
manned by six or seven thousand seamen.
Elsinore, with a population of 7000, is in the same
island of Zealand, at a distance of twenty miles from the
capital; but the sea-port which ranks next after Copen¬
hagen in point of trade is Altena or Altona, on the right
bank of the Elbe, immediately adjoining Hamburg.
The provincial divisions of Denmark on the mainland Statistics,
occupy a much wider extent of territory than those on the
islands. Jutland is a hundred and eighty miles in length, **ut*am^
and nearly eighty in breadth, its extent being above ten
thousand square miles, and its form that of an oblong, with
a triangle towards the north. It extends from the 55th to
the 58th degree of north latitude, and is divided into four
provinces or dioceses, viz. Aalborg in the north, Wyborg
in the centre, Aarhuus in the east, and Ribe or Rypen in
the south and west. These towns are all small, Aarhuus,
the largest, having only 5000 inhabitants. The rivers of
Jutland are necessarily small, from the few hills and the
limited breadth of the country; but there is a number of
bays or inlets of the sea, which run a great way up into
the interior. Of these, by far the longest and most exten¬
sive is called Lymfiord. Fish forms consequently a fre¬
quent article of food in Jutland.
Jutland has no large towns, and was in former ages co¬
vered with forests. Part of these still remain; and the fea¬
tures of this part of the Danish territory are ruder than
those of the islands. Still Jutland is pleasantly diversified
with woods and pastures. Wild animals formerly abound¬
ed in its forests; but they have gradually disappeared
since cultivation has been extended. The climate of Jut¬
land bears a considerable resemblance to that of the north
of England ; but the transitions from summer to winter and
from winter to summer are much more rapid than with us,
whilst the heat of summer is greater, and the cold of win¬
ter more intense. This proceeds from the comparative
vicinity of Denmark to the vast tract of continent which
forms the Russian empire, and is proverbial for its cold.
As to the soil of Jutland, a great proportion of it is dry
and sandy, which, when raised in clouds by the wind, and
scattered over cultivated districts, is productive of great
mischief. The best means of lessening these calamities
is to sow bent grass and plant shrubs in the sandy soil, as
is practised in the downs in Holland, and as has long been
enjoined by the Danish government.
The pasturages in Jutland are extensive, and the horses
are of large size, but fitter for draught than for the saddle.
The horned cattle are also of a good breed, and a quantity
of them are sent annually to Holstein. Of farming, the
only good examples to be met with are in the crown lands,
where the farms are of adequate size. The other occu¬
pancies are in general small; and nothing can be more
imperfect than the implements of husbandry used in Jut¬
land, and indeed in Denmark generally. The poverty of
the peasantry may be inferred from the fact of their wear¬
ing wooden shoes. Their families pass the long winter
evenings in making a number of articles of clothing for
their own use, such as linen and stockings. Like other
ignorant men, the Jutland farmers show an apathy, and in¬
deed an aversion, in regard to improvements which might
be introduced from other countries. Husbandmen have
been brought over from Scotland, but their example has
been little followed. The trade with Norway is carried on
chiefly from the north coast of Jutland, and consists of the
export of rye for bread, and of barley and malt for distill¬
ing. Wheat is as little cultivated here as it was in the north
ofEngland a century and a half ago ; for the upper classes
only can afford to consume it. The cultivation of potatoes
was long as much neglected in this country as in France,
but it has been much extended in the course of the pre¬
sent age. In minerals neither Jutland nor indeed any
part of the Danish territory is rich. Coal is found in very
few parts, a great privation in a country where the facility
of communication by water would make coal so generally
useful. The common fuel is either peat or tuif.
Such is the state of three fourths of Jutland. A differ¬
ent scene is presented along its western coast, as well as
D E N M A R K.
South Jut
land, its
west coast
or marsh
land.
along the western shore of Sleswick and Holstein. In all ment of a^ government board, which, hke the WaterstaatDeim^
these the surface is a continued level, gained in the course
of ages from the sea, and fortified against inundation, as
in Holland, by dikes or mounds. It is called the marsh
land, and resembles the fens in Lincoln and Cambridge¬
shire. The soil being rich, is adapted to wheat and bar¬
ley, as w^ell as to oats and rye. Of oats the crops are very
heavy, and rape is cultivated with advantage; but the
great object with agriculturists is grazing. The horses of
Holstein have long been remarked for their shape as well , . „.
as spirit, and are exported annually in numbers to Ger- ject to Denmark, it only remains that we notice the duchy auen.,
many, France, and Russia. Of horned cattle there is like- of Lauenburg, on the banks of the Elbe, a short distanced
wise a considerable annual export; and the farmers through- above Hamburg. In extent it is only about half an Eng-
out the whole of this tract will not break up their pasture, lish county, with a population of 40,000. It adjoins Hol-
nor incur the expense of tillage, without an assurance of stein, and forms the southern frontier of the Danish tern-
higher prices than have been obtained since the year tory. This district is an undulating plain, with few hills.
1820; for since that time agriculturists in Denmark, as in The population is almost wholly agricultural; and the only
England, have incurred a continued depreciation of pro- town, bearing also the name of Lauenburg, contains hardly
in Holland, prescribe regulations, which the local proprie-
tors or tenants are bound to follow. It is curious to trace
tbe successive extensions of the cultivated land by the old
embankments, which are seen at some distance inland, all
along the west side of Sleswick and Holstein, and which
form a continued level, as in the Dutch provinces. The
prevailing malady of a marshy district, ague, is also com¬
mon to these countries with Holland.
In order to complete our account of the territory sub-Duchy
perty.
Sleswick. Sleswick is of an oblong form, about seventy miles in
length, and from thirty to fifty-six in breadth. Its surface
is about 3600 square miles. The climate resembles that
of the north of England. Rain occurs with both east and
wrest winds, and the extremes of cold or heat are seldom
of long continuance. Here, as in Jutland, the greater
part of the interior is dry and sandy. The chief towns
are,
Population.
blensborg, an improving place, 15000
Sleswick 7000
Tonningen 3000
As to its history, the duchy of Sleswick had for many
ages been in close connection with Denmark, being go-
3000 inhabitants. This petty state, formerly governed by
its own dukes, became incorporated with Hanover in 1689.
It was made over to Denmark in 1815 at the congress of
Vienna, along with a sum of money, in lieu of Swedish
Pomerania, which, as already stated, was too distant to
form a suitable appendage to the Danish dominions.
The corn exporting districts of Denmark and the north Agricu;
of Germany were in 1827 visited on account of the Eng-ture.
lish government by Mr William Jacob, of the board of trade,
who published the report of his survey. The object of
our government was to ascertain how far the supply of
corn to England might be extended, in the event of the
removal of part of the restrictions on the importation of
corn into this country. The result was, that there ap¬
peared little reason to expect an augmented supply whilst
prices continued as of late years, because foreign agricul
verned sometimes directly by the king, at other times, as a turists are subjected to heavier charges than is commonly
dependency, by a brother of the reigning sovereign ; but
since 1720 it has been completely incorporated with the
Danish dominions.
Holstein. Holstein, somewhat less in extent than Sleswick, has a
surface of 3300 square miles. The western part, adjoin¬
ing the German Ocean and the banks of the Elbe, was,
like the maritime border of South Jutland, reclaimed in
former ages from the sea, and is secured by dikes against
inundations. It has the rich soil of an alluvial country,
whilst that of the inland part of the duchy is light, and in
some degree sandy. The products are rye, barley, oats,
with more wheat than in any other part of the Danish ter¬
ritory ; but the chief wealth of Holstein, as of Sleswick,
consists in its pastures. Horses and horned cattle are both
exported largely. The chief towns are,
Population.
Altena, on the Elbe, adjacent to Hamburg 24000
Gluckstadt, a sea-port at the mouth of the Elbe 6000
Rendsburg, inland, near the Canal of Kiel 8000
Kiel, at the east end of the canal, adjoining the Bal¬
tic 7500
The inhabitants of Holstein are almost all of Saxon de¬
scent ; and German, not Danish, is the language of the
country. The state of the peasantry here, as in Sleswick,
is not quite so backward as in Jutland.
In the marsh lands along the western coast of the Danish
dominions, the dikes exclude the action of the high tides.
In former ages melancholy scenes were known to occur
believed in raising and in bringing their produce to mar¬
ket. Their advantage over the English farmer is confined
almost to one point, the cheaper labour. The seasons are
not more certain, nor in general more favourable to the
growing crops, than in England. Their markets are by no
means constant, nor are their farmers assured, like ours,
of a demand on the spot for their produce, on merely ex¬
hibiting a sample. The corn itself must be conveyed to
market; and if sales are dull, it must be warehoused, to
await a demand from a distance. Less capital indeed is
required for the current disbursements of a continental
farmer; but from the long-continued cold of winter, the
buildings appended to a farm must be more extensive than
in our comparatively temperate climate.
The roads in Zealand and in the islands are very good;
but in Jutland, Sleswick, and Holstein, they are in a most
neglected state. Most of the corn, whether wheat or oats,
which is exported, must be conveyed thirty, forty, or even
fifty miles to a shipping port; a serious disadvantage
where a team of four horses can draw to a distance only
five quarters of corn instead of ten, as in England. In
many situations the land-carriage of rye and oats forms a
charge of ten or twelve per cent, on the amount.
Holstein and the north of Germany are better culti¬
vated than most parts of the Continent. The interior of
Germany and France are greatly behind them. But even
in these countries there is a general deficiency of farming
capital. Fi’om the landholder to the peasant, all are des¬
titute of disposable funds. The cost of farm buildings is
from irruptions of the sea; but during the last two centu- computed at a third of the whole value of the property
ries, such irruptions have not been destructive, the banks
and dikes being sufficiently strong to resist the violence of
the waves. Fields, and even districts, when under water,
are drained by windmills, as in the Netherlands. The
mounds and other defensive works are under the manage-
and the condition of the agriculturists is not more ad¬
vanced than that of English farmers was a century ago.
There is thus great difficulty in increasing the growth ol
corn for exportation.
Whilst in England the labour of thirty-five persons in a
DENMARK. 727
pj^rk. hundred suffices to produce the corn and other country
^ produce required for the community, in Denmark, as in
France, the labour of nearly sixty persons in a hundred is
required for the same purpose. This is owing to the in¬
ferior implements, the smaller size of the farms, and the
general backwardness of agriculture. During the war,
when the prices of corn were high, Denmark participated
in the supply of this country, and her landholders were
benefited by it; but since the peace of 1814 the prices of
corn in Denmark have been in general low, and the pro¬
perty of landholders has decreased in value. About half a
century ago an office called the “ chest of credit” was
established by government, to make advances for agricul¬
tural improvements. These advances are made at an in¬
terest not exceeding four per cent., and the repayment
takes place in small annual sums, it being sufficient that
the debt be discharged in twenty or twenty-five years.
About a million sterling has been lent out in this man¬
ner ; and the management having been in general judi¬
cious, agriculture has been in some degree promoted by
the government thus coming forward and supplying the
want of capital in the tenantry. Still that advance has
by no means been sufficient; most of the landed proprie¬
tors are in debt, and a considerable sum is sent abroad an¬
nually to pay interest, for the holders of the mortgages are
generally monied men residing in Lubeck and Hamburg.
^ra ()f Denmark was in former times so destitute of capital that
Dei iik. its foreign trade, for both exportation and importation, was
conducted in Dutch vessels. This was the case during the
seventeenth century, and it was not till after the treaty
with Sweden in 1720, and the adoption of a system of con¬
tinued peace, that the mercantile shipping of the Danes
became at all considerable. It has since been gradually on
the increase ; and had Norway remained united to Den¬
mark, the mercantile navy of the two kingdoms would
have approached to 300,000 tons, or one seventh of that
ef England ; but without Norway the proportion of Danish
shipping compared to the British is nearly as one to ten.
Danish merchantmen resort to almost every part of Eu¬
rope ; to Petersburg and other ports in the Baltic ; to
Holland, England, France, Portugal, Spain, the Mediter¬
ranean, and as far as Odessa in the Black Sea. To the
south of Europe Danish vessels carry fish and timber from
Norway, salt provisions from Holstein, and iron from
Sweden; and in return they receive and bring home wine,
brandy, fruit, olive oil, and bay-salt. Their intercourse with
Tranquebar and other factories or settlements in the south
of India, as well as with their islands of Santa Cruz, St
Thomas, and St John, in the West Indies, is apparently
of more consequence ; but long voyages, such as those to
India, or a permanent advance on sugar estates, are not
suited to merchants of such limited capital as those of
Denmark. A better plan would be to extend their fisheries,
| as well the herring as the whale fishery, favourable as is
their situation for both ; their seamen, moreover, are active,
and accustomed to serve for low wages. Amongst the petty
branches of their traffic may be reckoned occasional voy¬
ages of small vessels to the Faroe or Ferro Islands, to
Iceland, and to the equally uninviting region of 4inmark
or Danish Lapland.
The sale of merchandise in Denmark, in particular of
manufactured articles, takes place at public fairs, as was
the case in England a century ago, and still is in trance,
Germany, and other parts of the Continent. Ihese fairs
are held at fixed seasons, the goods being conveyed from
town to town in carts and waggons; but the whole is at¬
tended with toil and difficulty from the badness of the
roads. It is now about half a century since the high roads
in the islands were put under the management of trusts,
and the landowners assessed in an annual sum of money,
or quantity of labour to be performed by their tenants; Denmark,
but on the mainland the roads are still in a very rude
state.
I he circulating medium in Jutland and the islands con¬
sists of paper money. The notes of the Bank of Copen¬
hagen alone have a uniform value, being exchangeable for
silver; but the paper in circulation prior to the establish¬
ment of the bank in 1819 is at a discount, the rate at which
it is to be exchanged for cash being fixed every quarter
of a year by a government order. Sleswick and Holstein
are fortunately exempt from this irregularity, their cur¬
rency being wholly metallic.
The scarcity of money among the farmers is at times
such, that government consents to take corn at a fixed
price in lieu of rent and taxes. A tax of six per cent, on
the value of all land was imposed to supply a capital for
the Bank of Copenhagen, that it might be assured of specie
to pay its notes on demand.
The navigation from the north of Germany to Denmark, Canal of
around the northern point of Jutland, being always tedious, Kiel,
and sometimes dangerous, gave rise to the idea of uniting
the two seas by means of a canal, communicating with
the river Eyder. The work was commenced in 1777, and
finished in the course of seven years, at a great expense.
This is the Canal of Kiel, which begins near the town of
that name, on the side of the Baltic, and extends east¬
ward about twenty-three miles, when it comes in connec¬
tion with the Eyder. This canal is nearly a hundred feet
wide at the surface, and fifty-four at the bottom; it has
six locks, and its least depth of water is ten feet; it ad¬
mits vessels of 120 tons burden ; and of such small ship¬
ping no less than from 2000 to 3000 pass in a year. Ton-
ningen is the port on the east coast, and the length of
navigation from there to the Baltic is about 105 miles.
The passage to the Baltic by the Sound continues to be
followed by English, Dutch, and other vessels of heavy
burden, as well as by Swedes and Norwegians, on account
of the vicinity of their respective countries to the Sound ;
but coasting vessels and other traders from Oldenburg,
Hamburg, the mouth of the Elbe, as well as from Ton-
ningen and the ports of Sleswick, and still more small
Danish barks belonging to the islands, find it a great con¬
venience to traverse the Canal of Kiel. The hazard on
the north coast of Jutland arises from extensive sand¬
banks and a number of currents.
After 1807, when the open war between Denmark and
Britain made the passage by the Sound inexpedient, it
not impracticable, for our mercantile convoys proceeding
up the Baltic, recourse was had by them to the Great
Belt, the width of which is nowhere less than ten miles,
and in most parts much greater. The width of the Sound
is not more than five English miles.
In manufactures the Danes have made little progress, Manufac-
two thirds of the population deriving their support fromtures.
agriculture. The constituents of manufacturing prosperity
are abundance of fuel and easy communications. Now the
towns in Denmark, with the exception of Copenhagen,
are too small to afford the division of employment requi¬
site for the success of manufactures; they have hardly
any coal-mines, and no canal of any consequence except
that of Kiel; and good roads are wanting in three fourths
of the kingdom. The poverty of the peasantry prevents
them in Denmark, as in Ireland, from sending their sons
to serve apprenticeships in towns, so that the rising gene¬
ration remain in the country and follow the employment
of their fathers.
The consequence is, that in respect of manufactures,
the Danes confine themselves to the supply of their own
consumption in certain articles, and in others import what
they require from this country and Germany. From the
728
DENMARK.
Statistics.
Colonial
settle¬
ments.
latter linen is said to be imported to the value of half a
million sterling. In order to cause that manufacture to
flourish in Denmark, it would be necessary to produce
more flax at home ; but at present both flax and hemp must
be imported, and the freight of such bulky articles adds
materially to the price. Earthen ware is made in many
places, but the export of it is inconsiderable; the porcelain
manufacture is carried on for account of the crown, ihe
only considerable works in copper and brass are in Hol¬
stein ; the cannon foundery at Fridrichswark is very ex¬
tensive, but of iron founderies there are only four in the
kingdom. The number of paper mills throughout the coun¬
try is only between twenty and thirty; that of a very dif¬
ferent class of works, sugar refineries, was by a late return
forty-six. The other branches of manufacturing industry
worth notice are the tanning of leather, the making of hats,
and, amongst the peasantry, the practice of spinning linen
and woollen, and knitting stockings, all performed by their
families in their cottages. t .
It was from the north of Germany, and in particulai
from Lubeck, Hamburg, and Bremen, that improvement
in the mechanical arts made its way into Denmark : the
principal workmen in a former age were, and some even
at present are, from that quarter.
The woollen manufacture is carried on chiefly at Copen¬
hagen. This article in Denmark, as in Germany and
France, when compared with English cloth, is not cheaper,
but more durable. The capital also is the seat of a very
different branch of manufacture, the distillation of spirits
from grain, which is carried on to a great extent.
The Danish government, in its zeal to promote home
manufactures, has from time to time adopted injudicious
measures, such as imposing a very heavy duty on foreign
silks, and favouring that manufacture in Denmark, with¬
out a due consideration of its being unsuited to the coun¬
try. It were also to be wished that the government could
transfer to individuals the porcelain manufacture, as well
as the making of woollens for the army and navy, attended
as they are with the sacrifices usually accompanying un¬
dertakings for public account.
In point of colonies, the Danes, if they have not settle¬
ments of first rate importance, are sufficiently provided in
regard to number; having establishments in Asia, on the
coast of Coromandel and the Nicobar islands; in Africa,
at Christiansburg, and other places on the coast of Gui¬
nea ; and, in the West Indies, in the islands of Santa Cruz,
St Thomas, and St John.
The three West India islands just mentioned contain
above 30,000 negroes. Their trade with Denmark, sub¬
jected formerly to restrictions, is now entirely open. Their
average produce may be estimated at 30,000 hhds. of
sugar and 12,000 casks of rum, part of which are sold on
the spot, and the rest conveyed to the mother country.
This gives employment to sixty or seventy sail of mer¬
chantmen. The planters were indebted to Dutch capi¬
talists for the advances that enabled them to bring their
lands into cultivation. The amount of this debt (nearly
L.400,000) was taken over soon after 1786 by the crown
of Denmark, on the calculation that it was better that the
colonists should owe the money to the mother country
than to foreigners.
The Danes possess the fort of Christiansburg on the
coast of Guinea. They have the credit of being the first
European state that abolished the slave trade ; their go¬
vernment having published a preparatory edict in 1792,
and the traffic having finally ceased in 1803.
In India the Danes have several factories or settlements,
of which the chief is Tranquebar, on the coast of Coro¬
mandel. Their East India Company was established in
1732, and the charter has since been repeatedly renewed,
each time with an extension of the right of the public to Statistics,
participate. Since 1797, vessels may be sent out to Da-
nish settlements by private undertakers without restric¬
tion. The trade to China, however, continues in the hands
of the company. But these distant voyages and conse¬
quent long credits are not suited to a country of such
limited capital. The Danes have been introduced to them
by the effect of war and the value of a neutral flag. These
gave them great advantages in acting the part of carriers;
but they had no higher character; for a trifling proportion
of the articles imported into Copenhagen during war re¬
mained in the country. The capital of the Danish East
India Company does not amount to a million sterling.
:#s;
>1»
r'e
si
tl
   — — # o
The cession of Norway, after a possession or union ofSummary
— ~       —  7 ~ 1   
four centuries, was a severe blow to Denmark; but the°fthe
kingdom in its present state forms a concentrated terri-national
tory, and possesses very considerable means of increasing resources-
its resources both by trade and agriculture.
The surface of the Danish territory, particularly of the Aspect,cli
mainland, is in general level; and there are consequentlymate,and
no rivers of magnitude, but a number of smaller streams.Products'
The climate is not unlike our own, partaking greatly of
the characteristics of a northern region indented by the
sea. The atmosphere is often thick and cloudy, but the
extremes of cold, and still less those of heat, are seldom
intense, or of long continuance. The moisture of the air
affords, as in Britain, a freshness and richness of pasture,
which is sought in vain in the interior and southern parts
of Europe ; and hence the superiority of their horses and
horned cattle. The annual export of horses from Hol¬
stein exceeds 15,000, and the value L.200,000. Butter
and cheese are likewise abundant, and are exported in
large quantities. Sheep have not been improved with
equal success, their wool being short and coarse ; they have
of late, however, been considerably ameliorated by an in¬
termixture with merinos. The agricultural produce con¬
sists of oats, barley, beans, peas, and particularly of pota¬
toes ; wheat is also raised, but not to a great extent. Hops,
flax, and hemp, are also objects of cultivation, but in in¬
considerable quantities. Gardening is little practised,
unless in the island of Amak, the grand storehouse for
kitchen vegetables of the adjacent metropolis. Madder is
good in quality, and considerable in quantity.
The Danes are of a middling stature and fair complexion, National
and are habituated, more than the inhabitants of the south character,
of Europe, to the use of animal food and spirituous liquors.
The inhabitants of Holstein, and even of Sleswick, partake
a good deal of the German character. Without going
into any nice discrimination of manners, it may be re¬
marked in general terms, that the Danes have the habits
of a people living in a northern latitude, and are little ac¬
quainted, except in the capital, with the improvements of
the more polished part of Europe. The peasantry, more¬
over, are but recently emancipated from a state of feudal
subjection. On the other hand, the Danes possess the
various advantages resulting from the establishment of the
Protestant religion, and a long exemption from the super¬
stition and idleness attendant on the Roman Catholic
creed. During the last fifty years improvement has made
a visible progress amongst them.  
The public revenue of Denmark is between L.l,500,000 Revenue
and L.2,000,000 a year, and arises from various sources,
viz. the crown lands; the king’s portion of tithe; from
licenses, chiefly for distilling spirits; and from the Sound
dues, averaging from L.120,000 to L.150,000 steihng a
year. There is also a considerable revenue from a land-
tax, as well as from stamp-duties, customs, and excise.
These different duties are on a plan similar to those m this
country, though quite a miniature of ours m point ot
amount, as is happily the case with the public debt o
;tati
irffl}'1'
iavy.
DENMARK.
nd
Forrrri
jove®
mentl
Laws:
Denmark, which does not exceed twelve or fifteen mil¬
lions sterling.
In regard to the army, the peace establishment of re¬
gulars was, by a late return, twenty-four regiments, con¬
sisting of nearly as many thousand men. In 1801, before
729
o!7. The bishops in Denmark have no political charac- Statistic
ter; they inspect the conduct of the subordinate clergy,
and confer holy orders, doing, in short, most of what is
done by their fellow dignitaries among us, except voting
in the legislature. Complete toleration is now enjoyed in
then maritime disasters, the Danish navy consisted of Denmark, and considerable progress has been made in
more than twenty sail ot the line, fit for service, and well diffusing Christianity in Lapland, Greenland, and the East
provided with stores ; the arrangements of the naval arse- Indies, by a missionary institution long established in Co-
nal at Copenhagen being an object of general admiration, pcnhagen.
But their force was much reduced at that time, and still The ancient literature of Denmark Proper is in itself
more in 1807. Die naval establishment m peace is calcu- not very important, as hardly anything except inscriptions
lated for only 4000 men ; but as the number of seamen in is preserved ; but the Icelandic, with which it is connected
the kingdom is gieat, and. nearly 15,000 of them are re- is so in a very high degree. Still the literature of Den-
gistered for service, there is no difficulty in manning the mark forms a continuous chain, from the classical a«-e
royal shipping. . that of the Scalds, through the middle ages downwards.
Economy chaiacteuzes the court and government of to the commencement of the modern literature. Each
Denmark in a remarkable degree. They claim to rank in of these three periods has its peculiar language and pe-
this respect next to the governments of Prussia and the culiar taste. In the first, Braghi hinn Gemli is promi-
United States of America. nent; Saxo Grammaticus, who wrote in Latin, belongs to
I he government of Denmark, like that of other Gothic the second; and to it also belong Arild Hvidtfeld and
countries, was formerly far from despotic; the succession Sven Aageson, who wrote in a dialect intermediate be-
to the crown .was even elective until the revolution of tween the ancient and modern Danish, in which likewise
1660. That singular change .is to be explained, by sup- are compared the songs of the Danish champions or Im¬
posing, on the pait of the nation, not so much an indiffer- roes called Kfumpeviscv. The German has exercised a
ence to free institutions, as a resentment of the overbear- considerable influence on the formation of the modern
ing conduct of the nobility, and a consciousness of the Danish.
perpetual uncertainties of an elective government. The In respect of literature and literary culture, Denmark is
court found it thus a matter of little difficulty to unite the partly original and isolated, or rather the chief represen-
clergy and commons against the aristocracy ; and the tative of the ancient Scandinavian family, and partly owes
power of the crown has since continued without a parlia- to Germany the eminence which she has attained, forming
ment or any constitutional check. It is tempered, how- in regard to literature, as well as to politics, a portion of
ever, in various ways; by the influence of the reformed that country. The language, the poetry, the history, the
faith, the freedom of the press, and the progressive im- entire polite literature, and the laws of Denmark, are
provement of the nation.
The public business is directed by a privy council no¬
minated by the king, comprising the princes of the blood
and the principal ministers. It is there, and not in a par¬
liament, that laws are proposed, discussed, and recommend¬
ed to the royal sanction. As to the drafts or preliminary
parts of bills, each is prepared in the office or department
to which it belongs. These offices are called respectively
the chanceries of Denmark, of Sleswick, and of Holstein,
the office of foreign affairs, the treasury, the chamber of cus-
Scandinavian ; but religion, science, and several political
institutions, she has borrowed from Germany. The lan¬
guage, cognate as it is to the Teutonic dialects, entirely
belongs to an independent and distinct family (the Scan¬
dinavian), and is, both with regard to structure and roots,
more remote from modern High German than French is
from Portuguese. The principal distinctive characters
which the Danish possesses as a Scandinavian language,
and which the Teutonic languages in general have not,
are, 1. a postpositive definite article; 2. a passive and
toms, the admiralty, the war office, and the board of trade, middle voice in the verbs, formed by inflection, whilst the
None but natives of Denmark are admitted into public Mcesogothic only has a passive voice ; 3. the want of the
offices, except in a case of extraordinary qualifications. German preformative, which the supines and past parti-
The titles of nobility in Denmark Proper are only two; ciples of that language require; 4. the want of two of the
those of count or earl, and baron ; but there is an untitled forms which the German has in the inflection of its ad-
nobility, consisting of the most ancient families in the jectives, that language having four, whilst the Danish
country, which rank higher in public estimation than even has only two, a definite and an indefinite. There are
those whom the crown has ennobled. The nobility of Sles- several characters besides, positive as well as negative,
wick and Holstein form a distinct body. which distinguish the Scandinavian and Teutonic lan-
The king of Denmark is a member of the German body guages from each other; but the above are a few of the
as constituted in 1815, having, on account of Holstein and most essential. Yet the similitude, and even identity,, of
Lauenburg, three votes in the general assembly, and a roots is so great between the feutonic and Scandinavian
place, the tenth in rank, at the ordinary diet. languages, that no doubt can be entertained of their com-
In regard to law, there have in the present age been mon origin. . The separation, however, of these languages
various improvements ; but there is as yet no uniform code into two distinct families must have taken place long before
for the kingdom at large, Sleswick and Holstein preserv- the period of commencement of authentic history, and thus
ing their respective usages and institutions, whilst Jutland their identity of origin is only a matter of philological in-
and the islands are governed by the code of Christian V. ference.
   ~ ’ 1 ' ' '* 1 M‘ The modern Danish is a daughter of the Norse, or an¬
cient Danish, formerly called Norrccna or Donsk Tunga ;
and it bears exactly the same relation to that language as
Italian bears to Latin. In both cases we have the same
curtailing, simplification, and abandonment of inflections,
...v.      r  the same sacrifice of inversion and artificial construction,
king, and the number of these dignitaries, since the cession the same process of softening the idiom, and of substitut-
of Norway, is only nine: of clergymen the number in Jut- ing what is considered as beauty for energy and grandeur,
land and the islands is 1063; in Sleswick and Holstein The modern Danish is one of the softest languages now
VOL. vn. 4 z
Jutland is divided into four, and the islands into three baili¬
wicks or provinces.
The established religion in Denmark is the Lutheran,
which was introduced as early as 1536, the church reve¬
nue being at that time seized and retained by the crown.
At present the nomination of the bishops is vested in the
V
730
Statistics.
Univer¬
sity and
schools.
DENMARK.
spoken in Europe. When a foreigner hears it spoken for
the first time, he hardly perceives any sounds in it except
the vocalic; and the consonants are so much softened in
pronunciation that they scarcely appear. Of course the
vocalic system of this language is very perfect. Kask has
distinguished ten vowels in Danish, the sounds oi all which
are quite distinct.
The educational institutions of Denmark have reached
a very high degree of perfection ; indeed few countries, if
any, can compete with Denmark in this respect. Most of
the peculiar advantages in the Danish system seem to
arise from this, that all schools, both grammar and other,
have been put in a state of dependence on the university
and under its control, whilst the university itself is parti¬
cularly well managed, and is an institution which both
government and the nation take a delight m support-
ino- and improving. All educational institutions or t re
country are now managed by a certain royal college con-
sistin" of three or four assessors and a president, called
the royal commission for the university and grammar
schools. This commission has no superior but the king,
and reports to him directly. It appoints all professors in
the university of Copenhagen (not those in Kiel, for that
university belongs to another department), all rectors, con-
rectors, and other teachers of grammar-schools in Den¬
mark Proper (not in Holstein or Sleswick), and promotes
these from lower to higher grades. The university of Co¬
penhagen has four faculties, a theological, a juridical, a me¬
dical, and a philosophical; and to the last mentioned belong
Greek and Roman philology, ethical and natural philosophy
and metaphysics, mathematics, statistics, histoiy, political
economy, &c. The number of professors in all the facul¬
ties amounts to between thirty and forty; but this num¬
ber is not always the same, as sometimes there may be a
greater number of extraordinary professors than at others.
Every young man wishing to become a student in the
university is required to produce a Latin certificate fiom
his rector, or from his private tutor, declaring him to be
prepared for entering the university, and specifying what
Greek and Roman authors he has read, and what progress
he has made in mathematics, astronomy, natural history,
and other sciences. This certificate, or testimony as it is
called, only gives him right to undergo the entrance exa¬
mination, which is called examen artium, and lasts a fort¬
night. If he goes creditably through this examination he
is admitted as a student of the university, and acquires
thereby certain privileges; if not, he is rejected, and his
rector or tutor is punished by a reprimand or fine, and the
third time by deprivation of office, lor having sent to the
university an immature pupil. A year subsequent to his
entrance, every student has again to undergo another ex¬
amination called the examenphilosophicum, and he acquires
new privileges according to the degree of proficiency ma¬
nifested ondiat occasion. Then he commences his career
as a student of divinity, law, medicine, or of the more ab¬
struse branches of philology or natural science ; at the
conclusion of which, in three, four, or five years, he un¬
dergoes a final examination, which is very rigid ; and now
he is termed candidate of divinity, laws, medicine, and so
on. In addition to these examinations, the university has
now two academical degrees in each faculty, that ol licen¬
tiate and doctor. The requisite qualification for either of
these is a printed dissertation in Latin on some branch ot
that science in which the degree is taken; and this dis¬
sertation is publicly defended by its author ex cathedra, in a
Latin colloquy, which sometimes lasts twelve hours, against
the professors of the university, and as many disputants as
may come forward, sometimes amounting to twenty or
thirty in number. Great indeed as the strictness is with
which all the examinations of the university are conduct¬
ed, yet the trade of education is, as such, entirely free. Statist,;,
Any man or woman, native or foreigner, may establish a ''•*■^7
school in Copenhagen, and compete with the government
schools; and on sending their pupils to the university,
they are subject to the same check as those of the govern¬
ment schools. Lectures in the university, too, are public
and open to all; but as none but students can undergo the
examination, none but they can derive any public privi¬
lege from attending these.
The number of grammar and parish schools in Denmark
amounts to 3000, and there are, besides, 2000 schools, in
which the Bell and Lancasterian system of mutual in¬
struction has, at Colonel Abrahamson’s suggestion, been
adopted. The latter are intended for elementary educa¬
tion, and for the instruction of the common people; and
they have all been called into existence by Mr Abraham¬
son’s unparalleled activity.
In Copenhagen there is a Royal Society in every respect Literar
similar to the Royal Society of Londom; but the Danish societiet
Royal Society allows their medals and prizes to be com¬
peted for by treatises written not only in Danish, but also in
French, English, German, and Latin. There is a Scandi¬
navian Society, of which the object originally was to pro¬
mote a more intimate literary intercourse between the
learned of all the northern nations, Danes, Swedes, and
Norwegians. There is a Royal Society ot Northern An¬
tiquaries, founded by Dr Rafn in 1825, and a branch ot
the Icelandic Literary Society, which Rask founded in
1816; and all these societies regularly publish their transac¬
tions. The Royal Arnamagnsean Commission are trustees,
seven in number, managing a fund which in the earlier
part of the eighteenth century was devoted by the learned
Icelander, Arnas Magnaeus, to the publication and the
translation into Latin of ancient Icelandic Sagas or histo¬
ries. Upwards of forty volumes, in folio, quarto, and oc¬
tavo, have already been published by this commission.
In Copenhagen there is also a military academy, an artil¬
lery academy, and a naval academy, in which examina¬
tions are conducted nearly on the same plan as in the uni¬
versity.
The Copenhagen Academy of Arts has long been a
flourishing national institution. Ihe ancient palace ot
Charlottenborg affords elegant as well as spacious accom¬
modation for its galleries, lecture rooms, drawing classes,
assembly rooms, and ateliers. Were it only for having
imparted to the matchless Bertel (Alberto) Ihorvaldsen
his elementary education, this institution would deserve
to be mentioned; but he is not the only distinguished
artist whose unfledged genius was first nursed here, and
who in his riper years rose to great eminence in foreign
countries. There is also in Copenhagen an extensive mu¬
seum of the curiosities of art and nature. Its picture
gallery is rich, and contains many works by the most emi¬
nent artists. There are, besides, two other picture galleries,
namely, the Moltke Gallery and West s Gallery. Ihe Royal
Library, in the palace of Christiansborg, belongs to the
first class of the great libraries in Europe. It contains
upwards of four hundred thousand volumes, with a very
choice store of manuscripts. The collection ot Indian,
ancient Persian, Sanscrit, and Pali manuscripts, with which
Rask enriched it, is quite unique. The university library
in the church of St Trinity contains about one hundred
thousand volumes, and an excellent collection ot northem
manuscripts. There is, besides, another library tor the use
of the students of the Regent s College, chiefly containing
classics. The Clossen Library is mainly devoted to sci¬
ence and natural history, ihese are all national institu¬
tions, available and open to the public. 1 here are, besides,
several minor libraries, which, although less extensive and
of more limited use, become important by their number,
DEN
as well as by their influence on those classes to whom they
are accessible.
In Danish literary history the following names are par¬
ticularly distinguished. Holberg, of Norwegian origin,
was an eminent poet and historian; he was at once the
Swift and the Hume (not the Gibbon) of Denmark. Bar¬
tholin, Lungebeck, Suhm, Luxdorff, and Schjdnning, were
historians and antiquaries. Treschow was much admired
as an eclectic philosopher when he was in Denmark; and
since his return to his country, Norway, he has, on ac¬
count of his literary reputation, been promoted to high
honours by the Swedish government, but he seems to have
concluded his literary career. Both the Thorlaciuses,
father and son, were very eminent scholars and critics;
their works are chiefly written in Latin. The Danes have
especially excelled in dramatic poetry. Their most emi¬
nent poets were Ewald, Wessel, Thaarup, Samsde, and
Abrahamson ; and of still surviving poets, Ingemann, Johan
Ludwig Heiberg, and Adam Oehlenschlager, are the most
DEN
731
popular. The two brothers Oersted are highly distinguish- Dennis,
ed; Andreas as a lawyer and philosopher, and Hans Chris-
tian Oersted as a chemist and discoverer of the secrets of
nature. I he late Bishop Mvinter was eminent in every de¬
partment of knowledge ; his works are written in Danish,
Latin, and German. His present successor, the Bishop
Muller, has chiefly distinguished himself by his researches
in Scandinavian antiquities. Pontoppidan’s Latin works
are well known, and to be seen in almost every library.
Torfceus, although an Icelander, still belongs to the literary .
history of Denmark, as all his works were written and pub¬
lished in that country. Last of all, we shall mention a
man whose eminence as a philologist is unrivalled, name¬
ly, the late professor of oriental languages in the univer¬
sity of Copenhagen, Erasmus Rask, who died in 1832, at
the early age of forty-five.
The Danish language is spoken by three fourths of the
population ; the remaining fourth, inhabiting Holstein, Sles-
wick, and Lauenburg, speak German. (m. m„)
DENNIS, John, a celebrated critic, was the son of a
respectable tradesman in London, and born in the year 1657.
He received the first branches of education at the great
school in Harrow on the Hill, where he commenced ac¬
quaintance and intimacy with many young noblemen and
gentlemen, who afterwards made a considerable figure in
public affairs, by which means he laid the foundation of a
very strong and extensive interest, which, but for his own
fault, might have been of infinite use to him in his future
life. From Harrow he went to Caius-College, Cambridge,
where, as soon as he was of proper standing, he took the
degree of bachelor of arts. When he quitted the univer¬
sity, he made the tour of Europe, in the course of which
he conceived such a detestation of despotism, as confirm¬
ed him still more in those Whig principles which he had
from his infancy imbibed.
On his return to England, he became early acquainted
with Dryden, Wycherly, Congreve, and Southerne, whose
conversation inspiring him with a passion for poetry, and a
contempt for every attainment that had not in it something
of the belles lettres, diverted him from the acquisition of any
profitable art, or the exercise of any profession. This, to
a man who had not an independent income, was undoubt¬
edly a misfortune. However, his zeal for the Protestant
succession having recommended him to the patronage of
the Duke of Marlborough, that nobleman procured him
a place in the customs worth L.120 per annum ; which he
enjoyed for some years, till, from profuseness and want of
economy, he was reduced to the necessity of disposing of
it to satisfy some very pressing demands. By the advice
of Lord Halifax, however, he reserved to himself, in the
sale of it, an annuity for a term of years; which term he
outlived, and hence, in the decline of his life, he was le-
duced to extreme necessity.
Theobald Cibber relates an anecdote of him, which we
cannot avoid repeating, as it is not only highly character¬
istic of the man whose affairs we are now considering, out
also a striking and melancholy instance, among thousands,
of the distressful predicaments into which men of genius
plunge themselves, by paying too slight an attention to
the common concerns of life, and their own most import¬
ant interests. “ After that he was worn out with age
and poverty, he resided within the verge of the court,
to prevent danger from his creditors. One Saturday night
he happened to saunter to a public house, which in a shoit
time he discovered to be without the verge. He was
sitting in an open drinking room, when a man of a sus¬
picious appearance happened to come in. Ihere was
something about the man which denoted to Dennis that
he was a bailiff. This struck him with a panic ; he was
afraid his liberty was at an end; he sat in the utmost solici¬
tude, but did not offer to stir lest he should be seized upon
After an hour or two had passed in this painful anxiety,
at last the clock struck twelve, when Dennis, in an ecsta-
cy, cried out, addressing himself to the suspected person,
‘ Now, Sir, bailiff or no bailiff', I don’t care a farthing for
you; you have no power now.’ The man was astonished
at his behaviour; and when it was explained to him, was
so much affronted with the suspicion, that had not Dennis
found his protection in age, he would probably have smart¬
ed for his mistaken opinion.” This presents a strong pic¬
ture of the effects of fear and apprehension in a temper
naturally so timorous and jealous as was that of Dennis. The
following is a still more whimsical instance: In 1704 appear¬
ed his favourite tragedy Liberty Asserted ; in which there
were so many strokes against the French nation, that he
thought they were never to be forgiven. He had worked
himself into a persuasion that the king of France would insist
on his being delivered up before consenting to conclude a
peace ; and, full of this idea of his own importance, when the
congress was held at Utrecht, he is said to have waited on
his patron, the Duke of Marlborough, in order to desirp that
no such article might be stipulated. The duke told him that
he had really no interest then with the ministry; but that
he had made no such provision for his own security, though
he could not help thinking he had done the French as much
injury as Dennis himself. Another story relating to this
affair is, that being at a gentleman’s house on the coast of
Sussex, and walking one day on the sea-shore, he saw a
ship sailing, as he fancied, towards him. He instantly set
out for London, in the fancy that he was betrayed; and
congratulating himself upon his escape, gave out that his
friend had decoyed him down to his house in order to
surrender him up to the French.
Dennis, partly through a natural peevishness and petu¬
lance of temper, and partly perhaps for the sake of pro¬
curing the means of subsistence, was continually engaged
in controversy with his contemporaries, whom he ever
treated with the utmost severity; and though many of his
observations were judicious, yet he usually conveyed them
in language so scurrilous and abusive as destroyed then
intended effect; and as his attacks were almost always on
persons of abilities superior to himself, as Addison, Steele,
and Pope, their replies usually turned the popular opinion so
greatly against him, that, by irritating his testy temper the
more, it rendered him a perpetual torment to himself, till at
732
Denomina¬
tion
*
D’Entre¬
casteaux’s
Channel.
DEN
length, after a long life of vicissitudes, disappointments,
and turmoils, rendered wretched by indiscretion, and hate¬
ful by malevolence, having outlived the reversion of his
estate, and being reduced to distress, from which his having
daily created enemies to himself had left him scarcely any
hopes of relief, he was compelled to submit to the most
humiliating condition that can be conceived in human life,
the receiving obligations from those whom he had been
continually treating ill. In the very close of his days a
play was acted for his benefit at the little theatre in the
Haymarket, through the united interests of Thomson, Mal¬
let, and Pope ; the last of whom, notwithstanding the gross
manner in which Dennis had on many occasions used him,
and the long warfare which had subsisted between them,
interested himself very warmly in his behalf, and even wrote
an occasional prologue to the play, which was spoken by
Cibber. Not long af ter this, on the 6th of January 1733,
the unfortunate man died, being then in the seventy-se-
venth-year of his age.
Dennis was certainly possessed of much erudition, and a
considerable share of genius. In prose he is far from being
a bad writer, where abuse or personal scurrility does not
mingle itself with his language. In verse he is extreme¬
ly unequal, his numbers being sometimes spirited and
harmonious, and his subjects elevated and judicious, but
at others flat, harsh, and puerile. As a dramatic author,
he certainly deserves not to be held in any consideration.
It was justly said of him by a wit, that he was the most
complete instructor for a dramatic poet, since he could
teach him to distinguish good plays by his precepts, and
bad ones by his examples.
DENOMINATION (from denomino, compounded of de,
and nomen, a name), a name imposed upon any thing, and
usually expressive of some quality predominant therein.
DENOMINATOR, in Arithmetic, a term used in speak¬
ing of fractions.
Denominator of a Ratio is the quotient arising from
the division of the antecedent by the consequent. Thus
6 is the denominator of the ratio 30 to 5; because 30 di¬
vided by 5 gives 6. This is otherwise called the exponent
of the ratio.
DENSITY of Bodies is that property directly oppo¬
site to rarity, by which they contain a certain quantity of
matter under a certain bulk. Accordingly, a body is said
to have double or triple the density of another body, when,
the bulk being equal, the quantity of matter in the one is
double or triple the quantity of matter in the other.
DENTATUS, Cuitius, a renowned and highly disinte¬
rested Roman general, whose virtues render him more me¬
morable than even his great military reputation, flourished
272 years c. c. He was thrice consul; he conquered the
Samnites, Sabines, and Lucanians; and he gave each citi¬
zen forty acres of land, reserving no more for himself. The
ambassadors of the Samnites having paid him a visit, found
him boiling turnips in a pipkin, upon which they offered
him gold to come over to their interest; but he told them
that his design was not to grow rich, but to command those
who were so. He defeated Pyrrhus near Tarentum, and
received the honour of a triumph.
DENTIFRICE, in Medicine, a remedy or preservative
for the teeth.
DENTILES, or Dentils, in Architecture, an ornament
in cornices, bearing some resemblance to teeth, and par¬
ticularly used in the Ionic and Corinthian orders.
DENTISCALPRA, in Surgery, wn instrument for scour¬
ing yellow, livid, or black teeth, which being applied near
the gums, scrapes off the foul morbid crust.
DENTITION, the breeding or cutting of the teeth in
children.
D’ENTRECASTEAUX’S Channel, a strait on the
D E P
south-east coast of Van Diemen’s Land, from which it se-Denunciai ff
parates Bruny’s Isle. It is about thirty or forty miles in tion J
length, but of little breadth. It contains several harbours >! L
fl.nd three islets
DENUNCIATION, a solemn publication or promulga- ^
tion of any thing.
DEOBSTRUENTS, in Pharmacy, such medicines as
open obstructions.
DEODAND, in our customs, a thing given or forfeited
as it were to God, for the pacification of his wrath in a
case of misadventure, by which a Christian comes to a vio¬
lent end without the fault of any reasonable creature.
For example, if a horse strike his keeper and kill him;
if a man, in driving a cart, fall so that the cart-wheel runs
over him and presses him to death ; if one be felling a tree,
and give warning to the standers by to look to themselves,
yet a man is killed by the fall thereof; in the first case,
the horse ; in the second, the cart-wheel, cart, and horses;
and in the third, the tree, is Deo dandus, to be given to
God, that is, to the king, to be distributed to the poor by
his almoner, for expiation of this dreadful event. “ Omnia
quse movent ad mortem sunt deodanda.” This law seems
to be in imitation of that promulgated in Exodus, (chap,
xxi.), “ If an ox gore a man or a woman that they die; then
the ox shall be surely stoned, and his flesh shall not be
eaten ; but the owner of the ox shall be quit.” Fleta says
the deodand is to be sold, and the price distributed to the
poor, for the soul of the king, his ancestors, and all faithful
people departed this life.
DEODHUR, a town of Hindustan, situated on the north¬
west frontier of Gujerat. It consists of about a thousand
houses, inhabited principally by Rajpoots and Coolies, who
subsist principally by plundering their neighbours. It pos¬
sesses a citadel 150 yards square, which is well fortified,
and is surrounded by a wall and deep ditch. The town
labours under a great deficiency of water, and is hemmed
in by the jungle, which comes up close to the houses. It
is the property of a Rajpoot chief, who has eight other
villages under his authority, and who frequently lays his
neighbours and travellers under contribution. Deodhur is
173 miles from Moorshedabad. Long. 88. 32. E. Lat. 26.
59. N.
DEOGIRE, or Deogur, an ancient city and fortress of
Hindustan, in the province of Berar. It has fallen into
decay since the Mahratta conquest and the removal of the
seat of government to Nagpore. Long. 79.12. E. Lat. 21.
55. N.
DEOGUR, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Bahar, at which place multitudes of pilgrims are seen car¬
rying the water of the Ganges to the western side of India.
In this article a considerable trade is carried on. Long.
86. 40. E. Lat. 24. 30. N.
DEONELLA, or Deonhully, a town and fort of Hin¬
dustan, in Southern India, belonging to the rajah' of My¬
sore. The inhabitants have an extraordinary custom, by
which every mother, on the marriage of her eldest daugh¬
ter, is bound to amputate two of her fingers. Some say
that it was the birth-place of Hyder Ali, and that it was
here where he made his first essay in arms. It was taken
by Lord Cornwallis in 1791. It is nineteen miles N.N.E.
of Bangalore. Long. 77. 54. E. Lat. 13. 15. N.
DEOPOOR, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Bahar, and district of Monghir, forty miles west by south
from Moorshedabad. Long. 86. 33. E. Lat. 24. 4. N.
DEOSIR, a small district of Hindustan, in the province
of Cashmere, extending along the north side of the Jel-
lum, or Colhumah, between the 34th and 35th degrees ot
north latitude.
DEPHLEGMATION is an operation by which the
superabundant water of a body is drawn off, and it is pi in-
D E P
Dei
ti.
.ji^gis-cipally efFected by means of evaporation or distillation. De-
tSM phlegmation is also called Concentration, particularly when
acids are the subject.
Dip8* DEPHLOGISTICATED, in Chemistry, any thing de¬
prived of the phlogiston supposed to be contained in’it.
Dephlogisticated Air is the same with oxygen gas
in the modern chemistry. See Chemistry.
DEPILATORY Medicines are those applied in order
to take off the hair. Such are known to be the effects of
lime and orpiment.
DEPONENT, in Latin grammar, a term applied to
verbs which have active significations, but passive termi¬
nations or conjugations.
DEPOPULATION, the act of diminishing the number
of people in any country, whether by war, disease, or po¬
litical causes.
DEPORTATION, a sort of banishment used by the
Romans, by which some island or other place was allotted
to a criminal as the place of his abode, with a prohibition
not to stir therefrom upon pain of death.
DEPOSIT, among civilians, something that is commit¬
ted to the custody of a person, to be kept without any re¬
ward, and to be returned again on demand.
DEPOSITARY, in Law, a person intrusted as keeper
or guardian of a deposit.
DEPOSITION, in Law, the testimony given in court
by a witness upon oath.
Deposition is also used for the sequestrating or de¬
priving a person of his dignity and office.
This deposition only differs from abdication, in that the
latter is supposed to be voluntary, and the act of the dig¬
nitary or officer himself; whereas the former is compul¬
sory, being the act of a superior power, whose authority
extends thus far. Some say the deposition, and some the
abdication, of King James II.
Deposition does not differ from deprivation. We say,
indifferently, a deposed or deprived bishop, official, or the
like. Deposition differs from suspension, in that it ab¬
solutely and for ever divests a priest or other person of all
dignity, office, or trust; whereas suspension only prohibits
or restrains the exercise of such functions. Deposition
only differs from degradation, in that the latter is more
formal, and attended with more circumstances, than the
former; but in effect and substance they are the same,
those additional circumstances being only matter of show,
first set on foot out of zeal and indignation, and kept up
by custom, but not warranted by the laws or canons.
DEPRECATION, in Rhetoric, a figure by which the
orator invokes the aid and assistance of some one, or prays
for some great evil or punishment to befall him who speaks
falsely, whether that person be himself or his adversary.
DEPRECATORY, or Deprecative, in Theology, a
term applied to the manner of performing some ceremonies
in the form of prayer. The form of absolution is depre¬
cative in the Greek church, being conceived in these terms,
May God absolve you ; whereas it is in the declarative form
in the Latin church, and in some of the reformed churches,
/ absolve you.
DEPRESSION of the Pole. When a person sails or
travels towards the equator, he is said to depress the pole,
because as many degrees as he approaches nearer the equa¬
tor, so many degrees will the pole be nearer the horizon. This
phenomenon arises from the spherical figure of the earth.
Depression of a Star, or of the Sun, is its distance be¬
low the horizon, which is measured by an arc of a vertical
circle, intercepted between the horizon and the place of
the star.
Depression of the Visible Horizon, or Dip of the Hori¬
zon, denotes its sinking or dipping below the true horizon¬
tal plane, by the observer’s eye being raised above the sur-
D E R 733
face °f the sea, in consequence of which, the observed al- Depriva.
titude of an object is by so much too great. tion
DEPRIVATION, in the common law, is the act of be- II
reaving, divesting, or taking away a spiritual promotion or Cerbend-
dignity; as when a bishop, vicar, prebend, or the like, is ''‘■''V"''-''
deposed or deprived of his preferment, for some matter or
iciult, in fact or in law* See Deposition*
Depi ivation is of two kinds, namely, a beneficio, and ab
officio.
Deprivation a beneficio is, when for some great crime
a minister is wholly and for ever deprived of his living or
preferment; which differs from suspension, in that thelat-
ter is only temporary.
Deprivation ab officio is, when a minister is for ever
deprived of his order, which is the same, in reality, with
what we otherwise call deposition and degradation. De¬
privation is usually awarded for some heinous crime de¬
serving death, and is performed by the bishop in a solemn
manner. See Degradation.
DEPTFORD, a large town, consisting of two parishes,
in the hundred of Blackheath, in the county of Kent, but
with a small part of one of the parishes in the county of
Surrey. It is divided into Upper and Lower Deptford by the
Ravensbourn, which falls here into the Thames. There is
here a royal dockyard for the construction and repair of
ships of war, which was originally founded in the reign of
Henry VIII. There is also the storehouse called the Red
House, for providing victuals for the navy. The Trinity
House, for the general regulation of the pilots’ buoys, bea¬
cons, and lighthouses, is another of the establishments of
this town. I here are also several private dockyards for
the building of merchant vessels, together with numerous
block, sail, and mast makers. There are two charitable
foundations for decayed masters of vessels and for pilots,
and for the widows of both, which are well endowed and
regulated by the elder brethren of the Trinity House. The
inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 17,548, in 1811 to 19,833,
in 1821 to 19,862, and in 1831 to 19,795. Deptford is only
four miles from London.
DEPURATION is the freeing of any fluid from hetero¬
geneous matter or feculence. It is of three kinds: first, by
decantation, which is performed by letting the liquor to be
depurated stand for some time in a pretty deep vessel, till
the gross sediment has fallen to the bottom, after which
the clear fluid is poured off; secondly, by despumation,
which is performed by means of the whites of eggs, or other
viscid matter, and is also called clarification; and, thirdly,
by filtration, which is effected by passing the fluid through
cloth or porous paper.
DEPUTATION, a mission of select persons, out of a
company or body, to a prince, or other person or persons,
to treat of matters in their name.
DEPUTY, a person employed to manage a particular
business by some community or individual in authority.
Deputy is also one who exercises an office in another’s
right; and hence the forfeiture or misdemeanour of such
deputy causes the person whom he represents to lose his
office.
DEPUTATUS, among the ancients, a name applied to
persons employed in making armour, and likewise to brisk
active people, whose business it was to take care of the
wounded in engagements, and carry them off the field.
DERBEND, a town of Persia, and capital of the pro¬
vince of Daghestan, and also of a small principality of the
same name. It is situated in the province of Schirvan, on
the western shore of the Caspian Sea, and contains about
650 houses, and 4000 inhabitants, who are Armenians,
Mahommedans, Jews, and Russians. It is built in the form
of a parallelogram, and extends on a declivity from the very
margin of the shore west to the foot of a lofty mountain,
734
Derby
D E R
D E R
Derby¬
shire.
and is considered as the gate of Persia, its name signifying
an impassable place, or, more strictly, a door locked. It is
surrounded by strong walls, rising out of the sea, and de¬
fended by about sixty towers ; and the highest part of the
hill or rock is crowned by the citadel, which, however, is
at too great a distance either to protect the city or to cover
the harbour. Part of the celebrated wall of Gog and Ma¬
gog, said to have extended to the Black Sea, is still to be
seen near this fortress. It is of great solidity, and runs in a
western direction over high and inaccessible mountains.
Many of the stones used in the construction of the walls ai e
cubes of six feet, but the ramparts are so narrow that can¬
non are only mounted on the towers, and the entrance to
the town is through a single antique iron gate. I he town
was formerly supplied with water by magnificent aque¬
ducts built by the Arabs; but these are now in ruins, and
the inhabitants are under the necessity of using water from
wells.-so that the supply afforded is barely sufficient .or the
consumption of the inhabitants. It has little trade, owing
to the poverty of the surrounding countries, but veiy fine
saffron is cultivated in the neighbourhood. The harbour
is one of the worst on the Caspian Sea. It had formerly
a quay, which is now sunk under water. Derbend is a
place of great antiquity ; the celebrated caliph Haroun-al-
Haschid lived here at different times, and brought the
town into great repute, by promoting commerce and the
arts. In the convulsions of this part of Asia it has fre¬
quently changed masters. It was taken possession of by
the llussians in 1722, who retained possession of it until
1735, when it was restored to the Persians. In the war
with Persia which commenced in 1796, it surrendered to
the Russians, and has ever since remamed in their posses¬
sion. Long. 48. 58. E. Lat. 41. 52. N.
DERBY, a town, the capital of the county of that name.
It is 126 miles from London, being situated in a beautiful
and fertile valley watered by the river Derwent, which is
navigable to the Trent. It consists of five parishes, with
their respective churches. The houses are well built, the
market-place is a fine square, and the town-hall, assembly
room, and the church of All Saints, are respectable euifices.
The first silk-mill was erected here, and continues to pre¬
pare the raw material for the subsequent processes of the
manufacture. There is also an establishment for making
china, some of which is very beautiful. The cotton trade,
and especially the hosiery branch of it, is an object of pur¬
suit to numerous persons. In this town too are many work¬
ers in jewellery and in small articles of gold and silver. I he
town returns two members to parliament. There is a well-
supplied market held on Friday. The inhabitants amount¬
ed in 1801 to 10,882, in 1811 to 13,043, in 1821 to 17,423,
and in 1831 to 23,607.
DERBYSHIRE was, in the time of the Britons, a por¬
tion of the district which constituted the kingdom oftheCo-
ritani. During the government of the Romans, it formed
a part of Britannia Prima, and under the Heptarchy it was
included in the kingdom of Mercia. It is situated nearly
in the centre of England, and is bounded on the east by the
county of Nottingham and a part of Leicestershire ; on the
west it is divided from Staffordshire and Cheshire by the
rivers Trent, Dove, the Etherow, and Goyt; on the north it
lias Yorkshire and a part of Cheshire, and on the south is
Leicestershire. Its figure is very irregular, but approaches
nearest to that of a triangle. The greatest length from
south-east to north-west is about fifty-six miles, and its
width from east-north-east to west-south-west thirty-three.
It contains 972 square miles, or 622,080 statute acres.
This county is divided into the hundieds of High Peak,
Scarsdale, Appletree, Repton and Gresley, Morleston and
Littchurch, and the wapentake of Wirksworth. It con¬
tains sixteen market-towns, viz. Alfreton, Ashbourne, Ash-
r
over, Bake well, Belper, Buxton, Chapel-en-le-Frith, Ches- Derby,
terfield, Crich, Cromford, Derby, Heanor, Ilkeston, Sides- shire
well, Winster, and Wirksworth, It consists of 117 parishes,
is included as an archdeaconry in the diocese of Lichfield
and Coventry, and is divided into six deaneries, viz. High
Peak, Chesterfield, Ashbourne, Castillar, Derby, and Rep-
ington. By the reform act this county returns four mem¬
bers to the House of Commons, and for that purpose it
has been formed into two divisions. 1 he northern part
comprehends the whole of the hundreds of High Peak
and Scarsdale, and so much of the wapentake of Wirks¬
worth as is comprised in Bakewell division, and the poll¬
ing-place is the town of Bakewell. I he southern part
comprehends the hundreds of Appletree, of Repton and
Gresley, of Morleston and Littchurch, and the remainder
of the wapentake of Wirksworth ; and the polling-place for
the division is the town of Derby. Derby gives the title of
earl to the noble family of Stanley, Chesterfield the same
to that of Stanhope, and Hartington affords the title of
marquis to his Grace the Duke of Devonshire.
There is no English county which presents such a variety
of scenery as Derbyshire. The surface of the southern
district is, for the most part, pretty level, containing no¬
thing remarkable in its hills, and consequently little of the
picturesque. But the northern part abounds in hill and
dale, and the scenery is in many places romantic and su¬
blime. The county rising gradually from the south to the
town of Wirksworth, and thence to the north, assumes a
mountainous appearance, which it continues to possess to
its extremity. These elevations are the commencement
of that mountainous ridge which from thence divides the
island and extends into Scotland. The highest points in the
mountainous tract of Derbyshire are, Ax Edge, about thiee
miles south-west of Buxton ; Lord s Seat, near Castleton;
and Kinderscout, near the north-western extremity of the
county. About the town of Derby, and to the south'of it,
the country is flat and low. In the hilly districts some of
the valleys are very beautiful, particularly those of Cas¬
tleton and Glossop; but what constitutes the most pic¬
turesque and singular scenery of this county is the great
number and variety of smaller valleys or dales with which
the limestone district abounds. Ihese may differ in ex¬
tent and some particular circumstances, but the general
characteristics of them are precipitous rocks, of very sin¬
gular and picturesque forms, with mountain streams and
rivulets running through the lower parts of the dales, the
sides of which are generally well wooded. I he most cele¬
brated of these are, Matlock-Dale, on the river Derwent;
Monsal-Dale, the upper part of which is called Millers-Dale,
on the river Wye; Middleton-Dale, Lyam-Dale, and Dove-
Dale. In Matlock-Dale is a stupendous rock, called the
High-Tor, rising almost perpendicularly from the river to
the height of about 300 feet.
The soils of Derbyshire consist chiefly of clay, loam,
sand, and peat, very irregularly intermixed. The southern
part, which has been distinguished by the appellation o
the fertile district, consists principally of a red loam, on
various subsoils, which approaches to marl, cla}', loam,
sand, grit or gravel, according to the nature of the sub¬
stratum, or its exposure to the atmosphere. Peat mosses
are abundant in the northern part of the county denomi¬
nated High Peak. The substrata of most of the southern
portion of the county consist of gravel, intermixed with
large portions of red marl of very irregular forms, in seve¬
ral parts of which are beds of gypsum of considerable ex¬
tent. The substrata of the other parts of Derbyshire con¬
sist of limestone of various kinds, and loadstone ; sha e an
gritstone; coal and indurated clay resting on each other,
in alternate layers. . c
Derbyshire is a well-wooded county, and several ot tne
DERBY
iii-jy-
spe.
noblemen’s parks afford fine oak of very noble appearance.
Those of Kedlestone Park, the seat of Lord Scarsdale, are
supposed to be the largest and oldest in the kingdom’ se¬
veral being thought to be eight hundred years old.
The atmosphere and climate of Derbyshire vary very
much in different parts. From its northern situation, even
the southern part of the county is colder, and more fre¬
quently visited with rain, than many of the more central
counties. In summer, cold and thick fogs are frequently
seen hanging over the rivers, and surrounding the bases
of the hills, and hoar-frosts are not unfrequent even in the
months of June and July. Owing to the great elevation
of the northein parts, some kinds of grain will not grow at
all in the Peak, and even that which is sown in the more
sheltered places is seldom cut till late in the year. The
winters are, in general, very severe, and the mountains at¬
tracting the clouds in their passage over them, cause this
region to he distinguished from the others, by the greater
quantity of rain which falls upon it.
The chief rivers are, the Trent, the Derwent, the Wye,
the Dove, the Etherow, the Earwash, and the Rother. The
Trent does not intersect the county, but forms the bound¬
ary between it and Staffordshire on the south. The Der¬
went rises at the northern extremity of the county; its
whole length is forty miles. It was formerly navigable from
Wylne-Ferry up to Derby, but the navigation was abandon¬
ed when the Derby Canal was completed in 1795. The
Wye has its origin a little to the north of Buxton, and falls
into the Derwent near Rowsley. The Dove, which has its
source in the High Peak, a few miles to the south of Buxton,
is for many miles the boundary between Derbyshire and
Staffordshire ; it falls into the Derwent near Newton-Sol-
ney. The Wye and the Dove are celebrated for their
trout and grayling fishing. The river Rother rises near
Padley, and, after running by Chesterfield, enters York¬
shire near Killamarch. The Earwash flows from the skirts
of Sherwood Forest in Nottinghamshire, and falls into the
Trent near Long Eaton. The Etherow rises amongst the
hills at the northern boundary of the county, flows nearly
due south, dividing Derbyshire from Cheshire, and, meet¬
ing the Goyt near Marple, assumes the name of Mersey.
The lesser rivers are, the Amber, Barbrook, Burbage, Ec-
clesburn, Goyt, Lathkill, Maese, and the Morledge.
Derbyshire has several canals intersecting it in different
directions. The Trent and Mersey, or Grand Trunk Ca¬
nal, communicating between Liverpool and London, and
also with Bristol and Hull, was begun in 1776, by tbe ce¬
lebrated Brindley, a native of the county, and completed
in 1777, under his able successors Smeaton and Rennie.
It passes through Derbyshire, from Burton to its termina¬
tion at Wilden-Ferry, following the course of the Trent.
The Chesterfield Canal was begun in 1771 by Brindley,
and completed by his brother-in-law Mr Henshall in 1776.
It enters the county at Killamarsh, and terminates at Ches¬
terfield. The Langley Bridge, or Earwash Canal, begun
in 1777 by Mr Jessop, commences in the Trent naviga¬
tion, near Sawley, and terminates at Langley Mill. It runs
parallel to the little river Earwash, and opens into the
Cromford Canal. The Peak Forest Canal was commenced
in 1794, and finished in 1800. It proceeds from the Ashton-
under-Line Canal, near Dukinfield Bridge, and terminates
at Chapel Milton, Derbyshire. The Cromford Canal was
begun in 1789. Its line is wholly in Derbyshire, commen¬
cing at Langley Mill, where the Earwash terminates, and
ending at Cromford. It was completed in 1794 by Mr Jes¬
sop. The Ashby-de-la-Zouch Canal, begun in 1793, but not
finished until 1805, is connected with the southern part
of Derbyshire ; its line passing by Willesley and Measham.
The line of the Derby Canal is entirely in this county;
commencing in the Trent and Mersey Canal, north of
SHIRE. 735
Swarkstone, passing by Derby, with a branch to Little Berbv-
Eaton, and terminating in the Earwash Canal, half a mile shire,
south of Sandiacre. 1 he Nutbrook Canal was made in '*^~y^**
1793. It commences in the Earwash Canal, and, after
running four miles and a half, finishes at Shipley Wharf.
I his county is celebrated for its abundance of metals
and minerals. I hey are various and plentiful, particularly
in the limestone strata. Lead ore is found in several forms,
but most commonly in galena or sulphuret of lead. That
species called slickenside, having a smooth glossy surface,
is found in the Odin and Castleton Mines. The portion
of silver united to the Derbyshire lead is not sufficient to
be worth while separating it. A carbonate of lead some¬
times occurs. Calamine, or native oxide of zinc, is found
at Castleton, Cromford, Bonsall, and Wirksworth. It oc¬
curs in various colours and of different qualities ; sometimes
in nodules, in the form of grapes, and in the ochreous
state. Blende, or black-jack, another ore of zinc, is also
obtained. Copper has been found in small quantities only.
Pieces of considerable size, detached from any vein, have
frequently been met with at Matlock and Bonsall; and a
slender vein has been discovered between Tideswell and
Buxton.
Iron ore is found in very great abundance in all those
tracts of the country where coal has been discovered. It
lies at different depths; and frequently, from the great
dip of the strata, appears upon the surface of the ground. *
The beds of ore are from two to twelve inches thick, pro¬
ducing generally that of the argillaceous kind; but the
calcareous, or sparry iron ores, of a fine brownish red co¬
lour, sometimes bright yellow, scaly, or dirty brown, are
found in amorphous masses near the surface, and filling in¬
sulated places. The principal founderies and forges are,
Butterley, Codnor, Morley Park, Wingerworth, Chester¬
field, Biddings, and Stavely.
The ore of manganese appears in various forms. The
ores of arsenic and antimony are found in small quantities,
united with lead ore, quartz crystals, various crystals of
calcareous spar, and of fluor or fluate of lime, gypsum, se¬
lenite, and barytes, here called cauk. The most beautiful
among the fossils of this county is that much admired fluor
known by the name of Blue John, or Derbyshire spar,
found in the fissures of the limestone, in the neighbour¬
hood of Gastleton. This substance, when polished, ex¬
hibits an infinite variety of blue, purple, red, and yellow
shades; and its being transparent shows the colours to
greater advantage. The red however is not natural, but
produced by an artificial process, chiefly by tbe agency of
fire. Petroleum, or rock oil, is found in the black marble
at Ashford. Elastic bitumen, a substance peculiar to this
county, resembling in appearance the common Indian rub¬
ber, is also found in the cavities of the Odin mine.
Coal is very plentiful, abounding in large fields in seve¬
ral districts. It is of different degrees of hardness, comes
out of the pit in long stratified pieces of shining fracture,
burns with a brilliant flame and crackling noise, and leaves
a reddish-white ash. The limestone of this county is of
various colours, white, gray, yellow, blue, and black; and
is of various qualities, some being soft, and some suffi¬
ciently hard to be polished into beautiful marble. A new
variety, of a deep red colour, similar to Rosa antiquo, has
lately been found near New Haven. The Duke of Devon¬
shire preserves it for particular purposes. Fine freestone,
loadstone, shale, chinch, stalactitical concretions, and ful¬
ler’s earth, are also found in different parts. Impressions
of leaves and plants, a great variety of coralline bodies,
fossil shells, and even a small alligator, have been found
imbedded in the limestone of this county.
The warm mineral and other springs have long been ce¬
lebrated. The principal are those of Buxton and Matlock.
736
DERBYSHIRE.
Derby¬
shire.
The heat of the Buxton water is 82°, never varying on ac¬
count of the temperature of the atmosphere. The water
is remarkably pure, being very slightly impregnated with
saline particles. It is used both for bathing and drinking,
and is chiefly recommended for gout, rheumatism, derange¬
ment of the biliary and digestive organs, and diseases of
the urinary passages, for all of which it is of considerable
efficacy. There are several public and private baths, both
for ladies and gentlemen, and one open gratis to the poor.
It appears from several remains discovered at different
times that these waters were known to the Romans; and
from their time to the present they have been resorted to
by invalids.
Matlock water is not so warm as the Buxton, the ther¬
mometer seldom rising to more than 68° of Fahrenheit.
The springs issue from between fifteen and thirty yards
above the level of the river; higher or lower the springs
are cold, differing in nothing from common water. _ The
water is very pure, and less impregnated with mineial
substances than that of Buxton. There aie also seveial
baths at Matlock, which are much resorted to.
There is a tepid chalybeate spring at Bakewell, the
temperature of which is about 59 degrees. It is tonic,
and recommended for indigestion, debility, and chronic
rheumatism. Here there is one bath. At this place theie
is also a spring, which has been found to contain in sixty
quarts thirteen cubic inches of sulphuretted hydrogen.
The tepid spring at Stony-Middleton much resembles that
of Matlock, but it is not so warm, being only 63 degrees.
There are several other tepid springs in the county.
Among the sulphureous springs, that of Kedleston is the
strongest. It is like the Harrowgate water, and is used
externally for most cutaneous diseases, particularly for
those of an ulcerous nature ; while it is taken internally as
an antiscorbutic and diuretic. ihere are cold and waim
baths. Other sulphureous springs are also found in many
districts. The most celebrated chalybeate water is at
Quarndon, three miles from Derby, which is a good deal
frequented.
Among the wonders of Derbyshire, all authors mention
the intermitting spring at Barmoor, near Tideswell. It is
generally called the Ebbing and Flowing Well; but the
intermission is not regular, for in dry seasons the ebbing
and flowing ceases for several weeks, and in wet weather
it often ebbs and flows every ten minutes.
The southern and south-eastern parts of this county are
the best cultivated ; for great quantities of excellent wheat
and barley are grown there. The arable lands in the north¬
ern parts are chiefly cultivated for oats, of which grain there
is a great consumption, oaten bread leavened being the
principal food of the lower classes. The dairy country is
around Ashbourne and the south-western side of the
county, whence not less than 2000 tons of cheese are an¬
nually exported. In the neighbourhood of Chesterfield
there are about eighty acres of land employed in the growth
of chamomile. This useful plant was introduced into the
county about 1740; and it produces from three to six
hundredweight per acre, and is chiefly consumed at home
and in America. Valerian and elecampane are cultivated
in Ashover and North Wingfield in small quantities.
The breed of cows in this county has been very much
improved of late years. They are in general horned,
large, and handsome ; yielding upon an average ten quarts
of milk a day. They are most commonly speckled, with
large well-turned horns, though of late the short-homed
Lancashire breed has been introduced. Nature seems to
have adapted the horses in Derbyshire to the diffeient re¬
gions in which she designed them to labour. In the north¬
ern districts the breed is small, of light and slender make ;
in the southern parts they are in general of a strong and
heavy kind; and in the stables of the country gentlemen Derb
this beautiful animal may be found in the full perfection of shir!,
its symmetry. The sheep also vary in size ; those that are '"'Vr
bred on the borders of Leicestershire differ but little in
weight from that county breed ; but they gradually dimi¬
nish in size as we proceed northwards, till they get as small
as any in the kingdom. The parks in the county are well
stocked with fallow-deer.
The woollen manufactories, for which this county was
formerly celebrated, are now confined to the worsted-spin¬
ning at Derby, Melbourne, and Tideswell, and to the
weaving a few blankets at Chesterfield. Ihe fiist silk-mill
established in this kingdom was introduced into Derby in
the beginning of the last century, and the improved machi¬
nery ot it was brought from Italy by the celebiated John
Lombe. This mill is still worked with the original machi¬
nery ; but very great improvements have been made of
late years in the construction of the spinning apparatus;
and the facility attained in working the several articles
of silk manufacture has contributed to the extension of
this branch of business in a very eminent degree. The
manufacture of stockings was introduced into Derbyshire
about 1717 ; and this acquired additional celebrity by the
ingenious discovery of Strutt, who introduced a machine
for making ribbed stockings about the year 1755.
The manufacture of cotton was introduced in the year
1771, when Sir Richard Arkwright, the inventor, estab¬
lished one of the first cotton-mills on the improved prin¬
ciples ; and in 1773 he, in conjunction with Mr Jedediah
Strutt and Mr Need, made at Derby the first successful
attempt to establish the manufacture of calicoes in this
kingdom. This county, therefore, is the cradle of the
most important branches ot the cotton trade; and, at the
present moment, an immense capital is employed in the
business, which is carried on to a great extent. .
There are in several places manufactures of linen, and
flax-spinning is carried on in others, but upon a small
scale. White and red-lead works, various manufactures
connected with the iron trade, marble and spar works, a
long established and celebrated porcelain manmactory, and
grindstone mills, are found in different parts of the county.
In the town of Derby there is a considerable quantity of
jewellery goods prepared, of good taste and quality.
Among the singular customs of Derbyshire may be men¬
tioned that of rush-bearing, a ceremony of strewing the
churches on a certain day with rushes. It usually takes
place on the anniversary of the dedication of the church,
or on midsummer eve. The ancient custom of hanging
up in the churches garlands of roses, with a pair of gloves
cut out of white paper, which had been carried before the
corpses of unmarried women at their funerals, still prevails
in many parishes of the Peak; and that of dressing wells
and fountains with flowers is still preserved at Tissington,
and Holy Thursday is devoted to the festival. The coun¬
try wakes are generally observed here, on the Sunday fol¬
lowing the day of the dedication of the church or chapel,
or on the day of the saint to whom it is dedicated.
The British antiquities of this county are druidical cir¬
cles, tumuli of earth and stones, rocking-stones, iock-ba-
sins, and some rude military works in the uncultivated
parts of the county. The Roman remains deserving of
notice are, the altar preserved in Haddon-Hall, the in¬
scribed pigs of lead now in the British Museum, and the
silver plate found in Risley Park. Several Roman roads,
the remains of which are still visible, passed through the
county ; and many stations of consequence may be easily
traced.
The ecclesiastical edifices of this county exhibit the
taste of different ages. Of the Saxon period is the crypt
under Repton Church, which is supposed to be the re-
m-
s'V-
D E R
mains of the conventual church, destroyed by the Danes
in the year 874. Melbourne church is a very perfect spe¬
cimen of the massive style of architecture which prevailed
in the eleventh century. The desecrated church ofSteet-
ly exhibits a very complete specimen of the latter and
more enriched style of Saxon architecture on a small scale.
Other and numerous remains of Saxon architecture are to
be found in this county.
Specimens of the early Gothic style are not frequent •
and those of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries are incon¬
siderable, except the tower of All-Saints at Derby, which
has been generally and deservedly admired: it is about
150 feet high, and richly ornamented with Gothic tracing.
The only monastic buildings in this county, of which
any remains at present exist, are Dale Abbey, the arch of
the east window of which still stands ; Beauchief Abbey,
now used as a church; part of the original Saxon monas¬
tery of Repton, and an ancient brick tower, which formed
part of the prior’s lodging.
The ancient castles of Derbyshire whose ruins now re¬
main are those of Castleton, Codnor, Horsley, and Mel¬
bourne. Castleton was most probably erected by William
Peverell, to whom the manor was given by William the
Conqueror ; Codnor was the ancient seat of the Grey fa¬
mily ; Horsley was built in the beginning of the thirteenth
century, by Ferrers, earl of Derby; and Melbourne existed
as early as the time of Edward the Third.
The most remarkable mansion-house in this county, in
point of antiquity, is Haddon Hall, belonging to the Duke of
Rutland. It has been erected at various times, but no part
later than the middle of the sixteenth century. Hardwick
Hall, belonging to the Duke of Devonshire, is another pile
of the above description, exhibiting a complete specimen of
the domestic architecture which prevailed among the upper
ranks during the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Balborough
Hall is another handsome mansion of the sixteenth cen¬
tury. The manor-house of South Wingfield, a very splen¬
did and spacious edifice, erected by Lord Cromwell in the
reign of Henry VI., is now a mere ruin, having been suf¬
fered to fall into decay soon after the civil war in the
seventeenth century.
The noblemen’s seats are, Chatsworth, the chief seat,
and Hardwicke, the occasional residence, of the Duke of
Devonshire ; Elvaston, the seat of the Earl of Harrington ;
Sudbury, that of Lord Vernon ; Kedleston, the elegant
mansion of Lord Scarsdale ; Bretby, the seat of the Ches¬
terfield family; Doveridge, that of Lord Waterpark; and
Hassop, that of the Earl of Newburgh. The baronets’ seats
are, Ashbourne Hall, that of Sir Brooke Boothby; Winger-
worth, that of Sir Henry Hunloke ; Egginton, that of Sir
Henry Every; Tissington, that of Sir H. Fitzherbert;
Chaddesden, that of Sir R. Wilmot; Osmaston, that of Sir
R. Wilmot; Foremark, that of Sir F. Burdett; and Stret-
ton, that of Sir W. C. Browne. There are several elegant
and extensive mansions belonging to the gentry of the
county, the principal of which are, Sutton and Willersley,
both the property of R. Arkwright, Esq.; Markeaton, of
F. Mundy, Esq.; Longford, of E. Coke, Esq.; Radborne,
of E. S. C. Pole, Esq.; Bridge Hill, of G. B. Strutt, Esq.;
Hopton, of P. Gell, Esq.; Shipley, of E. M. Mundy, Esq.;
Norton, of S. Shore, Esq.; and Alfreton, of H. C. More-
wood, Esq.
By some ancient returns, of doubtful authority, it ap¬
pears that the inhabitants were in 1377 only 24,289, but
in 1789 they amounted to 124,465. By the more correct
later returns they were found to amount in 1801 to 161,142,
in 1811 to 185,487, in 1821 to 213,333, and in 1831 to
236,900. The value of the landed property, as assessed
by the property tax of 1815, appeared to be L.887,659
annually.
VOL. VII.
D E R
737
V °f Persia’ in4he province of Pars, Derees
which has declined from its former importance. Owing II
to the scarcity of timber, every house is arched. About Derlliim.
seven miles to the north are the ruins of the ancient city '—'■''T'-'
of Shapour, nearly six miles in circuit, where are the re¬
mains of some singular colossal figures sculptured on the
r°ck- II contam about 1000 houses, and is 7 miles north
ot lhazeroon.
DEREHAM East, or Market Dereham, a market-
town of the hundred of Midford, in Norfolk, 101 miles from
c °" It: .1S a wr511-built town> situated in a pleasant and
fruitful district. The church is ancient and beautiful, and
contains many curious specimens of ancient taste. The
poet Cowper, who died at Dereham, is interred in this
edifice. It has no trade, and only domestic handicraft
workmen.^ The market is held on Friday, and well sup¬
plied. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 2505, in
1811 to 2888, in 1821 to 3244, and in 1831 to 3913.
DERELICTS (from de, and relinquo, to leave), in the
civil law, are such goods as are wilfully thrown away or
relinquished by the owner.
DERENBURG, a town of the Prussian province of
Saxony, on the river Holzemme. It is surrounded with
walls, and contains 400 houses, with 2066 inhabitants.
DERHAM, Dr William, an English philosopher and
divine, born at Shoughton, near Worcester, in November
1657, educated at Blockley in that county, and admitted
of Trinity College, Oxford, in 1675. In 1682 he was pre¬
sented to the vicarage of Wargrave in Berkshire, and in
1689 to the valuablfe rectory of Upminster in Essex ; which
being situated at a convenient distance from London, af-
foided him an opportunity of conversing and correspond¬
ing with the most eminent philosophers of his time. Hav-
ing applied himself with great eagerness to natural and
experimental philosophy, he soon became a distinguish¬
ed member of the Royal Society, and its Philosophical
Transactions contain a variety of curious and valuable
pieces, the fruits of his industry and research. In his
younger years he published his Artificial Clockmaker,
which has been often printed; and in 1711, 1712, and
1714, he preached those sermons at Boyle’s lecture which
he afterwards digested under the well-known titles of
Physico-Theology and Astro-Theology, enriched with va¬
luable notes, and illustrated by copperplates. The next
thing of consequence which he published was Christo-
Theology, or a demonstration of the divine authority of
the Christian religion, being the substance of a sermon
preached at Bath in 1729. The last work of his own
composition which appeared was a Defence of the Churches
Rigid in Leasehold Estates, vixxX.ten <\x\ answer to an In¬
quiry into the customary estates and tenant-rights of
those who hold lands of the church and other foundations,
and published under the name of Everard Fleetwood. Be¬
sides his own productions, he also published some works
of Mr Ray, and gave new editions of others, with consi¬
derable additions from# the author’s manuscripts. This
good man, having spent his life in the agreeable and im¬
proving study of nature, and made all his researches subser¬
vient to the cause of religion and virtue, died at Upmin¬
ster on the 5th of April 1735, in the seventy-eighth year
of his age. Dr Derham, though a man of learning and me¬
rit, had but a poor figure; and to his other defects was
added that of an ungainly appearance, arising from his
being wry-necked. Lord Kames accuses him of not having
paid sufficient attention to one subject which came pro¬
perly before him in his Physico-Theology; namely, the
natural history of animals, with relation to pairing and
the care of their progeny, considering that to display the
conduct of Providence constituted the sole cause of his
writing on subjects of natural science.
5 A
738
Derivation
II
Desr.gui-
liers.
D E S
D E S
DFTHVATION, in Medicine, is when a humour which him to England whilst yet an infant, and at a proper age Desaigm
cannot conveniently be evacuated at the part affected, is placed him at Christ-Church College, Oxford, where he ||
attracted from thence, and discharged elsewhere; thus a at length succeeded Dr Ketl in reading lectures on expe-
b ter is applied to the neck in order to draw away the rtmental philosophy at Hart-Hall and prosecuted h,s re-
1 f i the eves searches in physics. Ihe Duke of Chandos made Dr De-
DeRIVATION, Grammar, the affinity which one word saguiliers his chaplain, and presented him to the living of
has to another bv having been originally formed from it. Whitchurch; and he afterwards became chaplain to Fre-
DERIVATIVE, in Grammar, a word which takes its derick prince of Wales. He read lectures with great suc-
fA
r
iJlMtlv AiiVlii, in Kxrammur, a wuiu  i -- , . , , j • ..i
oritrin from anothw word, called its prirtifit*. Such is the cess till the time of h,s death, which happened in he year
origin irom a , / 1749> He communicated many curious papers, which are
word derivative itself, which takes its origin from the pi i-
mitive rivus, a rivulet or channel, out of which lesser
streams are drawn. Thus manhood, deity, lawyer, aie de¬
rived from man, deus, law.
DERNIER Resort. See Resort.
DEROGATION, an act contrary to a preceding one,
1749. He communicated many curious papers, which are
printed in the Philosophical Transactions; published a
valuable Course of Experimental Philosophy, in 2 vols.
4to; and gave an edition of Gregory’s Elements of Catop¬
trics and Dioptrics, with an appendix on reflecting tele¬
scopes, 8vo. He was a member of the Royal Society,
v, 1 dU^rovrand revokes it, either in whole and also of several foreign academies. If credit may be
and which annuls, destroys, and . evokes it, attached t0 poetical authority, Desaguiliers, at the time of
°‘DERVENTIO, in Ancient Geography, a river of the his.decease, must have fallen into very; necessitous circum-
Rrioantes in Britain, now the Derwent, in the eastern part stances. Cawthorn laments his fate in these lines.
. -P- . .C IV • t Alert Q fnwn rtf iho
of Yorkshire, falling into the Ouse. Also a town of the
Erigantes, on the same river, now called Auldby, seven
miles from York, to the north-east..
DERVIS, or Dervish, a name given to a sort of monks
among the Turks, who lead a very austere life, and pro¬
fess extreme poverty, though they are allowed to marry.
i • • • llorl cirrninpft n nPP,P*ar. OT
How poor, neglected, Desaguiliers fell!
How he who taught two gracious kings to view
All Boyle ennobled, and all Bacon knew,
Died in a cell, without a friend to save,
Without a guinea, and without a grave.
DESAIGNE, a market-town of the department of the
fess extreme poverty, Upper Loire, in France, situated on the river Doux. It
1 he word is oHgmally ’ rel^ ious persons, par- contains 683 houses, and 3440 inhabitants. Near to it is
ticularly Urn followed of Mevelava, prefeud not to poasesa the enormous mass of ruins called Diana's temple, found-
any thing, the religious in generaUml the Mevelav.tesm ed “gl^^fpiEERE Josem, a distinguished French
^"The dervTses^calfecl also MeceSvitee, are a Mahomme- surgeon, was born at Magny-Vernais, a village of Franche-
ilie aervises, caneu cu&u , f v p in the vear 1744. He was descended of parents
dan order of -l|g'OUS persons tlje d-f mjounteof Comte, mfteye^ ^ the ear]y pJof his
which was one Mevelava. ^ t , r Cotaa, in education in a school of the Jesuits, and was destined for
merous. Their chief mona ^ and "where the church ; but his own inclination tended to the study
Natoha, where the general has his residence, and hW^es ^ medicine; and in this he was at length indulged, and
the assemblies of the older a ’ . , t| settled as an apprentice in the military hospital of Befort.
being all dependent on tins by a pnvdege g.anted to the acquired some knowledge of anatomy and snr-
monastery under Ottoman 1. , patience, gery; and having previously made considerable progress
The dervises affect a Z bare-lkSTmi Tn mathematical studies, he'applied this knowledge, after
humility, and chamy. fhey a y tl^embselvesgVyith i10t the example of Borelli and others, to the investigation of
open-breasted, an q y .• Thev fast physiological subjects. He translated the workot Borelli,
irons, in order to mure lemsev and on Tues- De Motu Animalium, and added notes and illustrations, in
regularly on Wednesdays ti a ’ . h the gu which, although he proceeded upon wrong principles, he
rioroTflif hoTe presides One ff’them plays all Ihe discovered at a very early period strong proofs of Ins zeal
while on a flute, and the rest dance, whirhng theirbod.es twentieth r he went t0 Par!s, where he
round with the acquire such enjoyed the best opportunities of storing his mind with
t,ce to tins exercise has ?nab f. dlJe Lowledge of smgery and anatomy, which he prose-
a habit that It does not in B e least d oomP“ae them. g^ and success_ He spent al
This practice hey obseive 8re“‘, mira. most the whole ofhis time at the anatomical theatresand
mory of Mevelava, their Pa‘r‘at.c,’’f ''a J g af four hoSpitals. but by this close attendance his health sutfered
culously round, as ''‘oj P!-6 refreshment hif companion greatly. He was seized with a cachectical disease, which
days, without any food or rei.eshment, his cornfanio. ^ bed for twe|ye months. and he was in-
UmSeYof td accompS Thef of his mind permitted him to indulge in repose He con,-
wafsoorfatteifded by1^^^ three’hundred pupils^a’great
SeeDFs\rDIUERS Jom introduced to silence him; and although he was patronised and pro-
DesOffuilierZ’Frenfch'proteftant’refbgee, and was born a. Expedient of adopting the name of another as a sanction.
Rochelle on’the 12th of March 1683. Flis father brought His reputation was now greatly extended,
D E S
mult, declined private practice, till he should be established in
u rp-' some distinguished public station. In the year 1776 he
was admitted a member of the corporation of surgeons,
and it would appear that his finances were at this time
extremely limited, from the circumstance of his being in¬
dulged by that body in paying his fees when it should be
convenient for himself. He successively filled the ho¬
nourable stations in the corporation and academy of sur¬
gery; and in the year 1782 he was appointed surgeon-
major to the hospital De la Charite.
Desault was now regarded as one of the first surgeons
of Paris. He succeeded to the next vacancy at the Hotel
Dieu; and after the death of Moreau, almost the whole
surgical department of that hospital was intrusted to him.
Here he instituted a clinical school of surgery on a liberal
and extensive plan, which attracted a great concourse of
students, not only from every part of France, but also
from foreign countries. An audience composed of about
six hundred students frequently met to hear his instruc¬
tions ; and most of the surgeons of the French army de¬
rived their knowledge from his lectures.
The surgical practice of Desault was always distinguish¬
ed for its efficacy and simplicity. Amongst the improve¬
ments which he introduced into surgery may be mention¬
ed bandages for the retention of fractured limbs, the use
of compressions in promoting the cure of ulcers, the use
of ligature in umbilical hernia of children, the extraction
of loose cartilages in joints, the use of bougies in schirro-
sities of the rectum, and that of elastic probes in contrac¬
tions of the urethra. He also introduced essential im¬
provements in the construction of various surgical instru¬
ments.
In the year 1791 he published a wmrk entitled Journal
de, Chirurgerie, the object of which vras to record the most
interesting cases which had occurred in his clinical school,
with the remarks which he had made upon them in the
course of his lectures. The editing of this work was in¬
trusted to his pupils. But in the midst of his valuable
labours he became obnoxious to some of the prevailing
parties of that turbulent period; and in 1792 he was, on
some frivolous charge, denounced to the popular sections.
After being twice examined, he was seized whilst he was
delivering a lecture, carried away from his theatre, and
committed to the prison of the Luxembourg. But in three
days thereafter he was liberated, and permitted to resume
all functions. When the school of health was established,
he was appointed clinical professor for external maladies ;
and it was through his means that the Eveche was con¬
verted into an hospital for surgical operations.
The horrid scenes which were exhibited in May 1795
made so deep an impression on his mind, from the appre¬
hension of a renewal of the horrors which he had formerly
experienced, that he was seized with an ataxic fever, ac¬
companied with delirium, which put an end to his life on
the 1st of June the same year, at the age of fifty-one.
He had attended the dauphin in the Temple; and from
the circumstance of his death having happened but a
short time before that of the prince, an opinion was pre¬
valent among the populace that he was poisoned, because
he had refused to do any thing against the dauphin’s life.
This story seems to be without foundation; but it affords a
proof of the opinion entertained by the public of Desault’s
integrity. A pension was settled on his widow by the
republic. Fame, and not emolument, had always been the
object of his ambition ; and he neglected many opportuni¬
ties of acquiring wealth. Indifferent to all other pleasures
and pursuits, Desault was solely and passionately attached
to his profession. His temper was ardent, and sometimes
rather violent; but his sentiments were always elevated
and noble, and hence his pupils called him Le Bourru
D E S
Bienfaisant. The only work of which he is to be consi¬
dered as the sole author is entitled Traite des Maladies
Ckirurgicales, et des Operations qui leur conviennent, iii 2
vols. 8vo.
DESBARA, a town of Hindustan, in the province of
Gujerat, twenty-three miles west-by-north from Broach.
Long. 72. 44. E. Lat. 21. 44. N.
DESCANT, in Music, the art of composing in several
parts. Descant is threefold; plain, figurative, and double.
Plain descant is the groundwork and foundation of all
musical compositions, consisting altogether in the orderly
placing of many concords, answering to simple counter¬
point. Figurative or florid descant is that part of an air
of music in which some discords are concerned, as well,
though not so much, as concords. This may be termed
the ornamental and rhetorical part of music, in regard
that there are introduced all the varieties of points, syn¬
copes, diversities of measures, and whatever is capable
of adorning the composition. Descant double is when the
parts are so contrived that the treble, or any high part,
may be made the bass; and, on the contrary, the bass the
treble.
DESCARTES. See Cartes.
Descartes, a town of the department of thelndreand
Loire, in France, with 183 houses and 965 inhabitants, re¬
markable as the birthplace of the celebrated philosopher
Renatus Descartes in 1650.
DESCENDANT. The issue of a common parent, in
infinitum, are called his descendants. See Descent.
DESCENSION, in Astronomy, is either right or oblique.
Right Descension is an arch of the equinoctial, inter¬
cepted between the next equinoctial point and the inter¬
section of the meridian, passing through the centre of the
object, at its setting, in a right sphere.
Oblique Bescension is an arch of the equinoctial, inter¬
cepted between the next equinoctial point and the hori¬
zon, passing through the centre of the object, at its setting,
in an oblique sphere.
DESCENT, in general, is the tendency of a body from
a higher to a lower place. Thus all bodies, unless other¬
wise determined by a force superior to their gravity, de¬
scend towards the centre of the earth.
Descent, or Hereditary Succession, in Laic, is the title
by which a man, on the death of his ancestor, acquires his
estate by right of representation, as his heir-at-law. An
heir, therefore, is he upon whom the law devolves the
estate immediately on the death of the ancestor; and an
estate so descending to the heir is in law called the inherit¬
ance.
Descent is either lineal or collateral. The former is that
which is conveyed down in a right line from the grand¬
father to the father, and from the father to the son, and
from the son to the grandson. The latter is that which
springs out of the side of the line or blood, as from a man
to his brother, nephew, or the like.
Descent of Dignities. A dignity differs from common
inheritances, and goes not according to the rules of the
common law; for it descends to the half-blood, and there
is no coparcenership in it, but the eldest takes the whole.
The dignity of peerage is personal, annexed to the blood,
and so inseparable that it cannot be transferred to any per¬
son, nor surrendered even to the crown; it can move nei¬
ther forward nor backward, but only downward to poste¬
rity ; and nothing but corruption of blood, as if the ances¬
tor be attainted of treason or felony, can hinder its de¬
scent to the right heir.
Descent, in Genealogy, the order or succession of de¬
scendants in a line or family, or their distance from a com¬
mon progenitor. Thus we say one descent, two descents,
and so on.
739
Lesbara
II
Descent.
'    
740 D E S
Descent Descent, in Heraldry, is used to express the coming
II down of any thing from above; as, a lion en descent is a
Design. jjon wjti1 hjs head towards the base points, and bis heels
towards one of the corners of the chief, as if he were
leaping down from some high place.
DESCRIPTION, in literary composition, is such a
strong and beautiful representation of any object or thing
as gives the reader a distinct view and satisfactory notion
of it.
DESENZANO, a rgarket-town of Italy, in the Austrian
delegation of Brescia, on the Lake of Garda. It contains
three churches, and 3550 inhabitants.
DESERT, a large extent of country entirely barren,
and producing nothing. In this sense some are sandy de¬
serts; as those of Lop, Xamo, Arabia, and several others
in Asia; and in Africa those of Libya and Sahara; whilst
others are stony, as the desert of Pharan in Arabia Petra;a.
The Desert, properly so called, is that part of Arabia,
south of the Holy Land, where the children ot Israel wan¬
dered during forty years.
DESHACHE, in Heraldry, is where a beast has its
limbs separated from its body, so that they still remain on
the escutcheon, with only a small separation from their
natural places.
DESIDERATUM is used to signify the desirable per¬
fections in any art or science: thus, it is a desideratum
with the blacksmjth to render iron fusible by a gentle
heat, and yet preserve it hard enough for ordinary uses;
with the glassman and looking-glass maker to render glass
malleable; and with the clockmaker to bring pendulums
to be useful where there are irregular motions.
DESIGN, in a general sense, is the plan, order, repre¬
sentation, or construction of a building, book, painting, or
the like.
Design, in the manufactories, expresses the figures
with which the workman enriches his stuff or silk, and
which he copies after some painter or eminent draughts¬
man, as in diaper, damask, and other flowered silk and ta¬
pestry, or the like.
In undertaking such kinds of figured stuffs, it is neces¬
sary, says M. Savary, that before the first stroke of the
shuttle be made, the whole design be represented on the
threads of the warp ; we do not mean in colours, but with
an infinite number of little packthreads, which, being dis¬
posed so as to raise the threads of the warp, let the work¬
men see, from-time to time, what kind of silk is to be put
in the eye of the shuttle for woof. This method of pre¬
paring the work is called reading the design, and reading
the figure. The manner in which it is performed may
be briefly described. A paper is provided, considerably
broader than the stuff, and of a length proportionate to
what is intended to be represented thereon. This is di¬
vided lengthwise by as many black lines as there are in¬
tended threads in the warp, and across these lines by
others drawn breadthwise, which, with the former, make
little equal squares; and on the paper thus squared the
draughtsman designs his figures, and heightens them with
colours as he sees fit. When the design is finished a work¬
man reads it, whilst another lays it on the simblot. To
read the design is to tell the person who manages the
loom the number of squares or threads comprised in the
space he is reading, intimating at the same time whether
it is ground or figure. To put what is read on the simblot
is to fasten little strings to the several packthreads which
are to raise the threads named; and this is continued till
the whole design is read.
Every piece being composed of several repetitions of
the same design, when the whole design is drawn, the
drawer, in order to begin the design afresh, has nothing
to do but to raise the little strings, with slip-knots, to the
D E S
top of the simblot, which he had let down to the bottom; Design, "j1
and this he must repeat as often as is necessary, till the tion ' JlltoL
whole be manufactured. J
The ribbon-weavers have likewise a design, but it is far
more simple than that now described. It is drawn on
paper with lines and squares, representing the threads of
the warp and the woof. But instead of lines, of which
the figures of the former consist, these are constituted of
points only, or dots, placed in certain of the little squares
formed by the intersection of the lines. These points
mark the threads of the warp which are to be raised, and
the spaces left blank denote the threads which are to keep
their situation ; the rest is managed as in the former case.
Design is also used, in Painting, to signify the first idea
of a large work, drawn roughly, and with an intention to
be carefully executed and finished.
In this sense it means the simple contour or outline of
the figures intended to be represented, or the lines which
terminate and circumscribe them: and such design is
sometimes drawn in crayons or ink, without any shadows
at all; sometimes it is hatched, that is, the shadows are
expressed by sensible outlines, usually drawn across each
other with the pen, crayon, or graver. Sometimes, again,
the shadows are done with the crayon rubbed, so that the
lines may not appear; at other times, the grains or stroke of
the crayon appear from its not being rubbed: sometimes
the design is washed, that is, the shadows are done with a
pencil in Indian ink, or some other liquor; and sometimes
the design is coloured, that is, colours are laid on much
like those intended for the grand work.
Design, in Music, is defined by Rousseau to be the in¬
vention and the conduct of the subject, the disposition of
every part, and the general order of the whole.
It is not sufficient to form beautiful airs and a legitimate
harmony; all these must be connected by a principal sub¬
ject, to which the various parts of the work relate, and by
which they become one. Thus unity ought to prevail in
the air, in the movement, in the character, in the harmony,
and in the modulation. All these must indispensably re¬
late to one common idea which unites them. The great¬
est difficulty is, to reconcile the observation of these pre¬
cepts with an elegant variety, which, if not introduced,
renders the whole piece irksome and monotonous. With¬
out question, the musician, as well as the poet and the
painter, may risk every thing in favour of this delightful
variety; if, under the pretext of contrasting, he do not
endeavour to cheat us with false appearances, and, instead
of pieces justly and happily planned, present us with a
musical minced meat, composed of little abortive frag¬
ments, and of characters so incompatible that the whole
forms a heterogeneous assemblage.
DESIGNATION, the act of marking or indicating and
making a thing known. The designation of an estate is
made by the tenants, hutments, and boundings. Amongst
the Romans there were designations of the consuls and
other magistrates, some time before their election.
DESIGNATOR, a Roman officer, who assigned and
marked out to each person his place and rank in public
ceremonies, shows, processions, and the like. The word
is formed from the verb designgre, to point out or desig-
nate.
The designator was a kind of marshal or master of the
ceremonies, who regulated the seats, march, order, and the
like. There were designators at funeral solemnities, and
at the games, theatre, and shows, who not only assigned
to every one his place, but also led him to it, as appears
from the prologue to the Pcenulus of Plautus. The agona-
thetce of the Greeks were officers of the same description.
DESIGNING, the art of delineating or drawing the
appearance of natural objects by lines on a plane, lo de-
D E S
sign, according to the rules of mathematics, forms the ob¬
ject of perspective. See Perspective.
DESPO P, a term sometimes used for an absolute prince
or sovereign. The word originally signified the same
thing with the Latin hems, and the English master; but
in time it underwent the fate upon medals, which, among
the Latins, Ccssar did with regard to Augustus; BACIAEYC
answering to Augustus, and AECHOTHC, despotes, to Cae¬
sar. Thus Nicephorus having ordered his son Stauracius
to be crowned, the son, out of respect, would only take
the title of AECHOTHC, leaving to his father that of
BACIAEYC. This delicacy, however, did not last long; for
the following emperors preferred the quality of AECIIOTHC
to that of BACIAEYC, particularly Constantine, Michael
Ducas, Nicephorus Botoniates, Romanus Diogenes, the
Comneni, and some others. In imitation of the princes,
the princesses likewise assumed the title of AECIIOINA.
It was the Emperor Alexius, surnamed the angel, who
created the dignity of despot, and made it the first after
that of emperor, and superior to that of Augustus or Se-
bastocrator and Caesar. The despots were usually the em¬
perors’ sons or sons-in-law, and their colleagues or co-part¬
ners in the empire, as well as their presumptive heirs.
The despots who were sons of the emperors had more
privileges and authority than those who were only sons-
in-law. Under the successors of Constantine the Great,
the title “ despot of Sparta” was given to the emperor’s son
or brother, who had the city of Sparta or Lacedaemon by
way of appanage.
DESPOTICAL, in general, denotes any thing that is
uncontrolled and absolute; but it is particularly used for
an arbitrary government, where the power of the prince
is unlimited, and his will a law to his subjects; such as
those of Turkey, Persia, and most of the eastern govern¬
ments.
DESPOUILLE, in Heraldry, the whole case, skin, or
slough of a beast, with the head, feet, tail, and all appur¬
tenances, so that being filled and stuffed, it looks like the
entire creature.
DESPREAUX. See Boileau.
DESSAU, a city of Germany, the capital of the princi¬
pality of Anhalt-Dessau. It stands on the river Mulda,
over which is a bridge. It is the residence of the sove¬
reign, and contains 9800 inhabitants, who carry on a va¬
riety of manufactures, but all upon a small scale. Its be¬
ing the seat of a government, though a minute one, con¬
tributes to the support of the population. Long. 12. 11.
E. Lat. 51. 50. N.
DESSERT, or Desert, a service of fruits and sweet¬
meats, usually served up last at table.
DESSICCATIVE, or Desiccative, in Pharmacy, an
epithet applied to such topical medicines as dry up the
humours flowing to a wound or ulcer.
DESTELBERGE, a town in the province of East
Flanders and circle of Ghent, in the Netherlands, con¬
taining 2527 inhabitants.
DESTINY, among philosophers and divines. See Fate.
DESTRUCTION, in general, an alteration of any thing
from its natural state to one contrary to nature ; in which
sense it is deemed the same with Corruption.
A chemical destruction, or corruption, is nothing but a
resolution of the whole naturally mixed body into its parts.
DESUDATION, in Medicine, a profuse and inordinate
sweat, succeeded by an eruption of pustules, called suda-
mina or heat pimples.
DESULTOR, in Antiquity, a vaulter or leaper, who,
leading one horse by the bridle and riding another, jump¬
ed from the back of one to the other, as the custom then
was, after they had run several courses or heats. I his prac¬
tice required great dexterity, being performed before the
D E T
41
rennes
II
Dettel-
bach.
use of either saddles or stirrups. The custom was prac- Desu-
tised in the army when necessity required it, but chiefly
amongst the Numidians, who always carried with them
two horses at least for that purpose, changing them as
occasion required. The Greeks and Romans borrowed
the practice from this people, but only used it at races,
games, and the like. The Sarmatae were great masters
of this exercise, and the hussars have still some remains
of it.
DESURENNES, or Desvres, a town in the depart¬
ment of the Pas de Calais, in France, containing 2362 in¬
habitants, who carry on some cloth manufactures.
DETACHMENT, in military affairs, a certain number
of soldiers draughted from several regiments or companies,
to be employed as the general thinks proper, whether on
an attack, at a siege, in parties to scour the country, or on
any other duty.
DETERGENTS, in Pharmacy, such medicines as are
not only softening and adhesive, but also, by a peculiar
activity, conjoined with suitable configuration of parts, are
apt to abrade and carry along with them such particles as
they lay hold of in their passage.
DETERIORATION, the impairing or rendering any
thing worse. It is just the reverse of melioration.
DETERMINATE Problem is that which has but one
solution, or a certain limited number of solutions; in con¬
tradistinction to an indeterminate problem, which admits
of infinite solutions.
Determinate Section, the name of a tract or general
problem, written by the ancient geometrician Apollonius
None of this work has come down to us, excepting some
extracts, and an account of it, by Pappus, in the Preface
to the 7th book of his Mathematical Collections. He
there says that the general problem was “ To cut an in¬
finite right line in one point, so that, of the segments con¬
tained between the point of section sought, and given
points in the said line, either the square on one of them,
or the rectangle contained by two of them, may have a
given ratio, either to the rectangle contained by one of
them and a given line, or to the rectangle contained by
two of them.”
DETERMINATION, in Mechanics, signifies much the
same with the tendency or direction of a body in motion.
See Mechanics.
Determination, among school divines, is an act of
divine power, limiting the agency of second causes, in
every instance, to that which the Deity had predestinated
concerning them.
DETERSIVES, the same with Detergents.
DETINUE, in Law, a writ or action that lies against
one who has got goods or other things delivered to him to
keep, and afterwards refuses to restore them.
DETMOLD, a small city, the capital of the dominions
of the prince of Lippe-Detmold. It is situated on the river
Werra, is surrounded with walls, and divided into the old
and new town. From being the seat of the government,
it supports, with little or no commerce, a population of
about 2300 persons. As there is a court of appeal held
here for districts belonging to other states, employment
is afforded for numbers of the legal profession.
DETONATION, in Chemistry, signifies an explosion
with noise made by the sudden inflammation of some
combustible body; such are the explosions oigunpowder,
f ulminating gold, and fulminating powder.
DETRANCHE, in Heraldry, a line bend-wise, pro¬
ceeding always from the dexter side, but not from the
very angle, diagonally athwart the shield.
DETTELBACH, a bailiwick in the circle of the Lower
Maine, in the kingdom of Bavaria. It extends over 72
square miles, or 46,080 acres. It contains two cities and
742 D E U
Deucale- 42 villages, with 7050 inhabitants. It is of moderate fer-
donius tility. The capital, of the same name, is situated on the
II river Maine, and consists of 340 houses, with 2132 inha-
Deucalion. bitants.
DEUCALEDONIUS Oceanus, supposed to be deriv¬
ed from the Gaelic words Duah Gael, the Northern High¬
landers ; the sea on the north-west of Scotland.
DEUCALION, king of Thessaly. The flood said to
have happened in his time (b. c. 1500) is supposed to
have been only an inundation of that country, occasioned
by heavy rains, and an earthquake which stopped the
course of the river Peneus at the place where it previously
discharged itself into the sea. On these circumstances
the fable of Deucalion’s flood is founded. According to
the story, he was the son of Prometheus, and governed
his people with equity; but the rest of mankind having
become extremely wicked, were destroyed by a flood,
whilst Deucalion and Pyrrha, his queen, were enabled to
save themselves by ascending Mount Parnassus. When
the waters had decreased, they went and consulted the
oracle of Themis as to the means by which the earth was
to be repeopled, when they were ordered to veil their
heads and faces, to unloose their girdles, and to throw
behind their backs the bones of their great mother. At
this advice Pyrrha was seized with horror; but Deuca¬
lion explained the mystery, by observing, that their great
mother must mean the earth, and her bones the stones;
upon which they took up some, when those which Deucalion
threw over his head became men, and those thrown by
Pyrrha women. Some have supposed that Deucalion,
whom the Greeks have represented under a variety of
characters, and concerning whom their poets have given
many fabulous accounts, was the same with the patriaich
Noah; and that Deucalion’s flood in Thessaly, as well as
that of Ogyges in Attica, and of Prometheus in Egypt,
were the same with that of Noah recorded in Scripture.
Diodorus Siculus expressly says, that in the deluge which
happened in the time of Deucalion almost all flesh died;
and Apollodorus having mentioned Deucalion tv Xagvuxi, or
consigned to the arh, takes notice, upon his quitting it, of
his offering up an immediate sacrifice, A/i cpv^tu, to the
God who delivered him. As he was the father of mankind,
the ancients conferred on him great dignity and universal
monarchy, though sometimes he is reduced to the state
of a petty king of Thessaly. Apollonius Rhodius makes
him a native of Greece, and the son of Prometheus. From
their confused history, however, we may learn, that the
person represented was the first of men, through whom
religious rites were renewed, cities built, and civil polity
established in the world; none of which circumstances are
applicable to any king of Greece. Philo assures us that the
Grecians call this person Deucalion, but the Chaldeans
style him Noe, in whose time there happened the great
eruption of waters. But as Lucian has given the most
particular history of the deluge, and that which comes
nearest to the account given by Moses, and as he was a
native of Samosata, a city of Commagene, upon the Eu¬
phrates, a part of the world where memorials of the de¬
luge were particularly preserved, and where an obvious
reference to that history may be observed in the rites
and worship of the country, we shall state the substance
of what he says on the subject. Having described Noah
under the name of Deucalion, he states that the present
race of mankind are different from those who formerly
existed; for those of the antediluvian world were all de¬
stroyed. The present world was peopled by the sons of
Deucalion, its inhabitants having increased to so great a
number from one person. In respect to the former brood,
they were men of violence, and lawless in their dealings ;
they regarded not oaths, nor observed the rites of hospi-
D E U
tality, or showed mercy to those who sued for it. On Deucar 1
this account they were doomed to destruction, for which || ‘ $ 1
purpose there was a mighty eruption of waters from the Deutero. ,1 ]
earth, attended with heavy showers from above, so that f^onicaL,
the rivers swelled and the sea overflowed, till the whole ^ i
earth was covered with a flood, and all flesh drowned.
Deucalion alone was preserved, in order to repeople the
world; and this mercy was shown to him on account of
his justice and piety. His preservation was effected by i
putting all his family, both his sons and their wives, into
a vast ark which he had provided, and also by entering it
himself. At the same time animals of every species, boars,
horses, lions, serpents, and whatsoever lived upon the face
of the earth, followed him by pairs, all which he received
into the ark, and experienced no evil from them; for by
the immediate influence of the Deity there prevailed a
wonderful harmony throughout; and thus they were wafted
with him as long as the flood endured. After this he pro- ]
ceeds to mention, that upon the disappearance of the i
waters Deucalion went forth from the ark, and raised an
altar to God. It would be needless to point out the fea¬
tures of resemblance which this account bears to that con¬
tained in the book of Genesis.
DEUCAR, a small town of Northern Hindustan, the ,
capital of a small district of the same name, and tributary
to the Ghoorkali rajah of Nepaul. Long. 82. 10. E. Lat.
28. 9. N.
DEUNX, in Roman antiquity, 11 ounces, or of the
Libra.
DEUTEROCANONICAL, in the school theology, an
appellation given to certain books of Scripture, which were
added to the canon after the rest, either by reason of their
not being written till after the compilation of the canon,
or of some dispute as to their canonicity. The word is
Greek, being compounded of dtvngef, second, and xuvov/xos,
canonical.
The Jews, it is certain, acknowledged several books in
their canon, which were inserted there at a later period
than the rest. They say, that under Esdras a great as¬
sembly of their doctors, which they call by way of emi¬
nence the Great Synagogue, made the collection of the
sacred books which we now have in the Hebrew Old Tes¬
tament; and they agree that this assembly put books
therein which had not been so before the Babylonish cap¬
tivity, such as those of Daniel, Ezekiel, Haggai, and those
of Esdras and Nehemiah.
The Roman Catholic church has since added others to
the canon, which were not, and could not be, in the canon
of the Jews, by reason that some of them were not com¬
posed till afterwards. Such is the book of Ecclesiasticus,
with several of the apocryphal books, as the Maccabees,
Wisdom of Solomon, &c. Others were added at a still
later period, by reason that their canonicity had not yet
been examined ; and till such examination and judgment
took place they might be set aside at pleasure. But since
that church has pronounced as to the canonicity of these
books, there is no more room now for her members to
doubt of them, than there was for the Jews to doubt of
those of the canon of Esdras; and the deuterocanonical
books are with them as canonical as the protocanonical;
the only difference between them consisting in this, that
the canonicity of the one was not generally known, exa¬
mined, and settled, as soon as that of the others.
The deuterocanonical books in the modern canon are the
book of Esther, either the whole, or at least the last seven
chapters; the Epistle to the Hebrews; that of James;
that of Jude ; the second epistle of St Peter ; the second
and third epistles of St John ; and the book of the Reve¬
lation. The deuterocanonical parts of books are, in Daniel,
the hymn of the three children ; the prayer of Azariah ;
De to-
D1^
Dev ^
DEV
the histories of Susannah, and of Bel and the Dragon ; the
last chapter of St Mark; the bloody sweat, and the’ ap¬
pearance of the angel, related in St Luke (chap, xxii.);
and the history of the woman taken in adultery, in St John
(chap, viii.)
DEUTERONOMY, one of the sacred books of the Old
Testament, being the last of those written by Moses (see
Pentateuch). The word is Greek, being compounded
of dsvrigos, second, and vo/x.os, law.
Deuteronomy was written in the fortieth year after the
delivery from Egypt, in the country of the Moabites, be¬
yond Jordan; Moses being then in the hundred and
twentieth year of his age. It contains, in Hebrew, eleven
paraches, though only ten in the edition of the rabbin at
Venice ; twenty chapters, and nine hundred and fifty-five
verses. In the Greek, Latin, and other versions, it con¬
tains thirty-four chapters ; but the last is not by Moses ;
and some say that it was added by Joshua immediately
after Moses’s death, which is the most probable opinion;
whilst others contend that it was added by Esdras.
DEUTEROPOTMI, in Grecian antiquity, a designa¬
tion given to such of the Athenians as had been thought
dead, and, after the celebration of the funeral rites, un¬
expectedly recovered. It was unlawful for the deutero-
potmi to enter into the temple of the Eumenides, or to be
admitted to the holy rites, till after they were purified, by
being let through the lap of a woman’s gown, that they
might seem to be born again.
DEUTEROSIS, the Greek name which the Jews ap¬
plied to their Mischnah or second law.
DEUTSCHKRONE, a circle in the Prussian govern¬
ment of Dantzic. It extends over 785 square miles, or
602,400 English acres, comprising five towns and 27,046
inhabitants. The chief place, of the same name, is situat¬
ed between the two lakes Arnis and Radunsee. It has a
Catholic and Lutheran church, with 2015 inhabitants.
DEVAPRAYAGA, a town of Northern Hindustan, in
the province of Serinagur, situated at the junction of the
Bhagarathi and Alcanando rivers, the union of which forms
that part of the Ganges held most sacred by the Hindus,
the bathing in which is supposed to purify them from all
their sins. This is one of the five principal prayags, or holy
points where two rivers meet, mentioned in the Shastras,
and is considered as peculiarly sacred. The town stands
on a scarp of the mountain, about a hundred feet above
the water. It contains only two hundred and fifty houses,
which are built of stone, two stories high, and covered
with shingles. In the upper part of the town stands the
celebrated temple of Ramachandra, constructed of large
blocks of cut stone, piled up without mortar to the height
of sixty feet. The presiding deity is an image about six
feet high, cut in black stone, the lower part of which is
painted red. The town is chiefly inhabited by Brahmins
of different sects, who draw rich contributions from the
superstition of the pilgrims ; besides which they have an
estate consisting of twenty-five villages. The town and
temple suffered much by an earthquake in the year 1803.
The latter was repaired at the expense of Dowlut Rao
Scindia. Long. 78. 31. E. Lat. 30. 3. N.
DEVA, or Diemuich, a market-town of the Austrian
province of Siebenbergen. It is built on the river Maros,
and is defended by an ancient castle, which overlooks it.
It contains a Catholic, a Greek, and a Protestant church,
with about 2500 inhabitants, chiefly of Wallachian origin,
who are employed in cultivating the vine. Long. 22. 51.
25. E. Lat. 45. 52. 8. N.
DEVENTER, a circle in the province of Overyssel, in
the Netherlands, containing four cantons, viz. Deventer,
Hardenburg, Ommen, and Raelte, with 41,570 inhabitants.
The capital is the city of that name, at the junction of the
DEV 743
Schipbeek with the Yssel. Its fortifications are now in aDevereux.
<?*’et S^e* aw.e^*k11^ C'ty, with seven churches,
1200 houses, and 9621 inhabitants, who are industriously
employed in making iron goods, earthenware, linen cloth,
and in breweries. It was the birthplace of the classical
Gronovius and of Thomas a Kempis.
DEVEREUX, Robert, Earl of Essex, the son of Wal¬
ter Devereux, Viscount Hereford, was born at Nether-
wood, in Herefordshire, in the year 1567. He succeeded
to the title of Eail of Essex at the age of ten ; and about
two years afterwards was sent by his guardian, Lord Burgh-
ley, to Irinity College, Cambridge. He took the degree
of master of arts in 1582, and soon afterwards retired to
his seat at Lampsie, in South Wales. He did not, how¬
ever, continue long in this retreat; for we find him, in his
seventeenth year, at the court of Queen Elizabeth, who
immediately honoured him with singular marks of her fa¬
vour. Authors seem very unnecessarily perplexed to ac¬
count for this young earl’s gracious reception at the court
of Elizabeth. But the reasons seem pretty obvious; he
was her relation, the son of one of her most faithful ser¬
vants, the son-in-law of her favourite Leicester, and a very
handsome and accomplished youth. Towards the end of
the following year, 1585, he attended the Earl of Leicester
to Holland ; and gave signal proofs of his personal courage
during the campaign of 1586, particularly at the battle of
Zutphen, where the gallant Sir Philip Sidney was mortally
wounded. On this occasion the Earl of Leicester con¬
ferred on him the honour of knight banneret.
In the year 1587, Leicester being appointed lord steward
of the household, Essex succeeded him in the honourable
post of master of the horse ; and the year following, when
the queen assembled an army at Tilbury to oppose the
Spanish invasion, Essex was made general of the horse.
From this time he was considered as the favourite of the
queen; and if any mark was yet wanting to fix the opinion
of the people in this respect, it was shown by the queen’s
conferring on him the honour of the garter.
It is not to be wondered at that so rapid an elevation
should have affected so young a man as the Earl of Essex,
who henceforward showed a very high spirit, and often
behaved petulantly enough to the queen herself, who yet
did not chuse to be controlled by her subjects. His eager¬
ness about this time to dispute her favour with Sir Charles
Blount, afterwards Lord Mountjoy and Earl of Devonshire,
cost him some blood; for Sir Charles, thinking himself
affronted by the earl, challenged him, and after a short
contest wounded him in the knee. The queen, so far from
being displeased with this occurrence, is said to have sworn
a good round oath, that it was fit somebody should take
him down, otherwise there would be no ruling him. How¬
ever, she reconciled the rivals, who, to their credit, con¬
tinued good friends as long as they lived.
The gallant Essex, however, was not so entirely capti¬
vated with his situation as to become insensible to the
allurements of military glory. In 1589, Sir John Norris
and Sir Francis Drake having sailed on an expedition
against Spain, the young favourite, without the permission
or knowledge of his royal mistress, followed the fleet,
which he joined as they were sailing towards Lisbon, and
acted with great resolution in the repulse of the Spanish
garrison of that city. The queen wrote him a very severe
letter on the occasion ; but, after his return, she was soon
appeased. Yet it was not long before he again incurred
her displeasure, by marrying the widow of Sir Philip Sid¬
ney. In 1591 he was sent to France with the command
of 4000 men to the assistance of Henry IV. In 1596 he
was joined with the lord high admiral Howard in the com¬
mand of the famous expedition against Cadiz, the success
of which is universally known. In 1597 he was appointed
744
DEV
Devicotta. master of the ordnance, and the same year commanded
another expedition against Spain, called the Island Voyage,
the particulars of which are also well known.
Soon after his return he was created earl marshal of
England ; and, on the death of the great Lord Burghley
in 1598, elected chancellor of the university of Cambridge.
This is reckoned one of the last instances of the good
fortune of a man who had now advanced too high to sit
at ease; and those who longed for his honours and em¬
ployments very closely applied themselves to bring about
his fall. The first great shock he received in the queen s
favour arose from a warm dispute between her majesty
and himself, about the choice of some fit and able person
to superintend the affairs of Ireland. The affair is related
by Camden, who tells us that nobody was present except
the lord admiral, Sir Robert Cecil, secretary, and Winde-
bank, clerk of the seal. The queen looked upon Sir Wil¬
liam Knolls, uncle of Essex, as the most proper person
for the charge; but Essex contended that Sir George
Carew was a much fitter man for the situation. When the
queen could not be persuaded to approve his choice, he
so far forgot himself and his duty as to turn his back
upon her in a contemptuous manner ; which insolence her
majesty not being able to bear, gave him a box on the ear,
and bid him go and be hanged. Essex put his hand to his
sword and swore revenge. This violent storm, however,
soon subsided, and they were again, at least appaiently,
reconciled.
The total reduction of Ireland being proposed soon
afterwards, the earl was pitched upon as the only man
by whom it could be accomplished. This was an artful
contrivance of his enemies, who hoped to ruin him, by
employing him in a desperate undertaking; nor were their
expectations disappointed. He declined this fatal prefer¬
ment as long as he could; but perceiving that he should
have no quiet at home, he accepted it; and his commis¬
sion as lord lieutenant passed the great seal on the 12th
of March 1598. The earl met with nothing in Ireland but
ill success and disasters; in the midst of which an army
was suddenly raised in England, under the command of
the Earl of Nottingham, by the suggestions of the earl’s
enemies, who insinuated that he meditated an invasion
of his native country, rather than the reduction of the
Irish rebels. This and other considerations induced him
to quit his post and to come over to England, which he
accordingly did without leave. On his arrival he burst
into her majesty’s bed-chamber as she was rising, and was
received with a mixture of tenderness and severity; but
she soon afterwards thought fit to deprive him of all his
employments except that of master of the horse ; and he
was committed to the custody of the lord-keeper, with
whom he continued six months. No sooner had he re¬
gained his liberty than he plunged into many extrava¬
gancies, to which he was instigated by knaves and fools,
but perhaps more powerfully by his own passions. He
first determined to obtain an audience of the queen by
force ; he refused to attend the council when summoned ;
and when the queen sent the lord-keeper, the lord chief-
justice, and two others, to know his grievances, he con¬
fined them, and then marched with his friends into the
city, in expectation that the people would rise in his fa¬
vour. But in this he was completely disappointed. He
was at last besieged and taken in his house in Essex
Street, and being committed to the Tower, he was tried
by his peers, condemned, and executed. He was a polite
scholar, and a generous friend to literature. I he Earl
of Essex died in the thirty-fourth year of his age, leaving
by his lady one son and two daughters.
DEVICOTTA, a fort and sea-port town in the south of
India, and district of Tanjore, situated at the mouth of the
DEV
Coleroon River. It was taken in 1749 from the rajah of
Tanjore, and became one of the Company’s principal fac¬
tories on the Coromandel coast. The approach to the
port is very dangerous, owing to an extensive shoal which
lies off it. Long. 79. 55. E. Lat. 11. 20. N.
DEVIL (Diabolus), an evil angel, one of those celes¬
tial spirits cast down from heaven for pretending to be
equal with God. The Ethiopians paint the devil white,
and are thus quits with the Europeans, who paint him black.
There is no mention of the Devil in the Old lestament,
but only of Satan and Belial; nor do we meet with the
word in any heathen authors, in the sense in which it is
used among Christians, that is, as a creature who had re¬
volted against God. Their theology went no farther than
evil genii or daemons.
Some of the American idolaters have a notion of two
collateral independent beings, one of whom is good and
the other evil; the last, as they imagine, having the direc¬
tion and superintendence of this earth, for which reason
they chiefly worship him. The Chaldeans, in like manner,
believed both in a good principle and an evil one, which
last they imagined was the enemy of mankind. Isaiah,
speaking, according to some commentators, of the fall of
the devil, calls him Lucifer, from his former elevation and
state of glory; but others explain this passage of Isaiah
in reference to the king of Babylon, who had been precipi¬
tated from his throne and his glory. The Arabians call
Lucifer Eblis, which some think is only a diminutive or
corruption of the word Diabolus.
DEVINCTION (Devinctio), in Antiquity, was used to
signify a love charm or incantation used to gain the affec¬
tion of a person beloved. It was formed by tying knots,
and is thus described by Virgil in his eighth Eclogue:
Dev
II k
Deve1
sfrerk
J
Necte tribus nodis ternos, Amarylli, colores :
Necte, Amarylli, modo ; et, Veneris, die, vincula necto.
DEVISE, or Device, in Heraldry, Painting, and Sculp¬
ture, any emblem used to represent a certain family, per¬
son, action, or quality, with a suitable motto applied in a
figurative sense.
The Italians have reduced the making of devises into
an art, some of the principal laws of which are, that there
shall be nothing extravagant or monstrous in the figures;
that figures shall never be joined which have no relation
or affinity with one another, excepting some whimsical
unions established in ancient fables, which custom has
authorized; that the human body shall never be used;
that the fewer figures so much the better; and that the
motto shall be every way suitable.
Devise, in Law, the act by which a person bequeathes
his lands or tenements to another by his last will or tes¬
tament.
DEVIZES, a market-town of the hundred of Pottern
and Canning, in Wiltshire, ninety miles from London, con¬
taining two parishes. It is situated at the foot of the
chalk hills, in a healthy and fertile district, and is an an¬
cient town. It was formerly fortified, and, from its si¬
tuation, must have been very strong. The market-place
is open and well built, but the streets are mostly narrow,
and in an ancient fashion. Some woollen trade is carnet
on, but to a less extent than formerly. Two members are
returned to parliament, who are chosen by the freemen.
There are two weekly markets, on Mondays an(^. ,^r1s"
days. The inhabitants amounted in 1801 to 3547, in 181
to 3750, in 1821 to 4208, and in 1831 to 4562.
DEVOLUTION, in Law, a right acquired by transmis¬
sion from one to another.
DEVONSHERING, a term used by the farmers to ex¬
press the burning of land by way of manure. The method
employed is to cut off the turf about four inches thick, to
dev
biirn it in heaps, and then to spread the ashes upon the
land. The name is probably derived from its bavins been
first practised in Devonshire. to
DEVONSHIRE, the British name of which was Dyv-
naint, while the inhabitants were called Dyvnonwvn or
inhabitants of low lands, formed a part of the district in
eluded in the appellation of Danmonium. During the do-
minion of the Romans it was included in the district
called Britannia Prima; but under the Saxons it was con¬
stituted a part of the kingdom of Wessex.
The county of Devon is the second in size of all the
English shires, being exceeded by that of York alone. On
the north and north-west it is bounded by the Irish Chan¬
nel, on the west by the rivers Tamar and Marsland-wa-
ters, on the south and south-east it has the British Chan¬
nel, and on the east and north-east it is conterminous with
the counties of Dorset and Somerset. Its figure is very
irregular, but something like that of a trapezium. Its
greatest extent from north to south is about seventy-one
miles, and from east to west seventy-two ; and its circum¬
ference is about 287, including about 1,633,280 acres of
land, thirty-three hundreds, 394 parishes, and forty market-
towns.
The county of Devon is in the see of Exeter, and in¬
cluded in the western circuit. The assizes are held at
the county town, Exeter. The members to the House of
Commons returned from this county are, two for the
northern division, whose polling places are South Mol ton,
Collumpton, Barnstaple, Torrington, Holsworthy, and Cre-
diton; and two for the southern division, whose polling
places are Exeter, Homton, Newton-Abbot, Kingsbridge,
Plymouth, Tavistock, and Oakhampton. The following
towns return two members each, viz. Exeter, Plymoutir,
the new borough of Deyonport, Totness, Barnstaple, Ho-
niton, Tavistock, and diverton. Ihe towns of Ashburton
and Dartmouth elect one member each ; and the boroughs
of Plympton, Oakhampton, and Beeralston, have by the
reform act been disfranchised. The whole number of mem¬
bers, which was formerly twenty-six, is now reduced to
twenty-two.
A county of so great extent as Devonshire must have
a diversified and irregular surface. The mountains in the
vicinity of Dartmoor rise to 1500 and 1800 feet above the
level of the sea. On the south and south-east are exten¬
sive wastes, the surfaces of which are covered with rough
masses of detached granite and immense rocks. To the
north and north-west are large tracts of swampy ground,
and many peat bogs of great depth. But that part called
the Yale of Exeter, a district the area of which is about
two hundred square miles, consists of some very fine land ;
and though the soils vary considerably, the most preva¬
lent are a strong red loam, foliated clay intersected with
veins of ironstone, and a mixture of sand and gravel. The
district called the South Hams is frequently termed the
garden of Devonshire, from its fertility. It is strikingly
diversified by bold swells and luxuriant vales, and in many
parts towards the north the scenery is picturesque and ro¬
mantic. The surface and soil of West Devon are remark¬
ably uniform, the latter consisting of perished slate-stone,
rubble, and mud, intermixed with a portion of loamy
mould. Here the cultivated lands are all enclosed, and
villages and farm-houses are frequent. North Devon, or
the country round Biddeforde, Barnstaple, and South Mol¬
ten, contains much productive land, and is greatly diversi¬
fied with beautiful scenery.
Although the climate of Devonshire varies much in dif¬
ferent districts, still, from its situation between two seas,
its immediate exposure to the south-west winds as they
blow from the ocean, and the elevated summits of the
surrounding mountains, it is upon the whole much milder
VOL. VII.
dev
than that of the other English counties. The winters are
cee mg y mild, and proverbially favourable to the cure
of pulmonary complaints. The air is generally dry and
aim, and the harvest earlier than in any other parts of
the west. On the southern coast the myrtle flourishes in
the open air unsheltered. J
Ihe principal rivers of Devonshire are, the Taw, the
Torndge, the Tamar, the Dart, the Teign, and the Exe;
and the lesser are, the Tavy, the Plym, the Yealrae, the
Arme, the Aven, the Otter, the Sid, the Axe, and the Lyn.
In some of them, particularly the Tamar and Tavy, the
salmon-fishing is valuable. The royalty of the Tavy be¬
longs to the Drake family, who have constructed a very
large weir across the river, furnished with traps for taking
the salmon on their way down after a flood. The Exe
salmon is esteemed superior to that of any other river in
this country. These streams furnish trout in great plenty;
and plaise, the torpedo or electric ray, the opah or kino--
fish, and the sepia or cuttle-fish, are found in and at the
mouths of these rivers.
The Grand Western Canal, when finished, will connect
the south-eastern coast and the Bristol Channel. Its
length is about thirty-five miles, traversing through part
ot this county, and passing the towns of Exeter, Tiverton,
Taunton, &c. The lamar Canal follows the course of the
Tamar River, on the southern coast of Devonshire. Its
noi them extremity is considerably elevated. Its objects are
the impoit ot coals, lime, and manures, and the export of
agricultural products. It commences in the Tamar River,
at Morewellham quay, and terminates atTamarton Bridge,
lavistqck Canal follows a north-eastern direction for about
four miles and a half in this county. It commences where
the Tamar Canal finishes, and reaches the town of Tavis¬
tock where it ends. Several of the rivers of Devonshire
are navigable for considerable distances.
The mineral waters are numerous, but inconsiderable.
Ihey are all chalybeate, the principal of which are those
of Gubb’s Well near Cleave, Bella Marsh near King
Steignton, Ilsington near Totness, Brook near Tavistock,
and Brampton.
The ores of iron, lead, tin, and manganese, are found in
considerable quantities in Devonshire; and gold, silver,
copper, bismuth, antimony, and cobalt, have been some¬
times discovered in small quantities. Ironstone is com¬
mon in many districts, but it is not of a quality that yields
much metal. It is supposed that the inhabitants of this
county were in the habit of working the iron, as well as
the other metallic mines, before the arrival of the Ro¬
mans. The lead ore of this county is of many kinds, but
principally of a grayish-blue colour. The potters’ or tes-
selated ore is of a shining, rectangular, tabulated struc¬
ture, always breaking into cubical granules; another kind
is of a flaky, smooth, and glossy texture, breaking into
ponderous fragments; and a third sort is more closely
grained, with the fracture sparkling and uneven, and very
rich in silver. The tin-works were anciently numerous and
valuable; but the Cornwall mines being much more pro¬
ductive, they are now nearly abandoned. Manganese was
first discovered about fifty years ago. It is found in large,
rugged, irregular masses, and contains a great variety of
crystallizations. Native silver has been found in ditfer-
ent substances and in various forms. Cobalt, interspersed
with numerous filaments of silver, has been found at Samp-
ford in great abundance. Antimony of a dark lead colour,
full of long, shining, needle-like striae, has been discovered
at Chudleigh, Hennock, and South Bovey.
The minerals of Devonshire are numerous. Limestone
of almost every description is found in different parts of the
county. In the eastern parts it has a good deal the ap¬
pearance of chalk. In the neighbourhood of South Hams
5 B
745
Devon¬
shire.
746
Devon¬
shire.
DEV
it is hard, beautifully veined, bears a fine polish, and re¬
sembles the Italian marble. In other districts it is manu¬
factured into black marble, variegated with streaks of
white ; into a flesh colour, having streaks of brown ; into
a pale red, blue, and indeed into almost every variety of
colours. Gypsum is found, but not in abundance, in the
neighbourhood of Plymouth, Salcombe-Regis, and Exeter.
Fluor spar is produced in great plenty in the mines of
Beer-Ferris.
Among the argillaceous substances of the county are
fine pipe-clay, found in great abundance at \\ ear-Gifford ;
potters’ clay in the Vale of King-Steignton ; and slate of an
excellent quality near Slapton Sands and East Alwington.
The siliceous clay of this county contains quartz crystals
of a small size; and flints in great abundance, but paiti-
cularly in the mountainous tract of Haldon. freestone
of various kinds is dug up in the parishes of Salcombe,
Branscombe, and Beer. Whinstone, basalt, and a sub¬
stance like the Derbyshire loadstone, are found in differ¬
ent parts of the county. Granite is met on Dartmoor,
where commences the range which extends into Cornwall.
Coal of various sorts is found in Devonshire. That pro¬
cured at Bovey-Heathfield, and thence called Bovey coal,
is a singular production. Its strata extend about nine
miles in a southern direction, the uppermost of which
rises to the surface, and is from eighteen inches to four
feet thick, but increases in thickness downwards, until
the lowermost sti’atum of coal is sixteen feet thick. I his
stratum lies on a bed of clay, under which is a sharp green
sand, from which rises water of a vivid green colour,
abounding in sulphur and vitriol, and as warm as some of
the Bath springs. The exterior parts of this coal, which
lie nearest the clay, have a great mixture of earth, and are
generally of a dark-brown colour. The veins which lie
nearer the centre are more compact and solid, and in co¬
lour and weight are like common pit-coal. That stratum
called the wool-coal is a vein sometimes of chocolate co¬
lour and sometimes of black coal, consisting of a number
of laminae or thin splinters, which divide like whalebone,
and it is generally dug out in pieces of three or four feet in
length. The fire made of this coal is more or less lasting,
according to the veins from which it is extracted. The
basis of this coal is supposed to be vast assemblages of
trees, which have, at various distant ages, been washed by
torrents from the neighbouring hills; and on which, from
time to time, intervening beds of clay and sand have been
deposited. Pyrites, in globular balls of various sizes, are
obtained in different parts of the county. I he outward
coat is of a brown rusty colour, composed of very minute
angular crystals; and the inside is a very solid substance
of sulphur and iron, not radiated.
A society for the improvement and encouragement of
agriculture was established in Devonshire in the year
1791, and has been of considerable service in spreading
a knowledge of the most improved modes of practice
adopted in other parts of the kingdom. The forest of
Dartmoor contains considerable tracts, capable of much
improvement; and the land in the Vale of Exeter, which
is the best in the country, is cultivated with wheat, bar¬
ley, beans, peas, and some little flax. The pasture lands
are chiefly appropriated to supply the dairy; but in some
parts considerable attention is paid to breeding sheep and
cattle. Orchards, and apple trees in hedges, are common
in most of the farms; oats, turnips, and potatoes, are also
cultivated in many districts. In West Devon two thirds
of the inclosed lands are employed alternately in raising
corn and the grasses ; red clover, rye-grass, and sometimes
white clover and trefoil. Irrigation is common, and so is
also peat-burning. In North Devon the soil is productive,
the orchard grounds arc extensive, and the inclosures toler-
D E V
ably large. The farms in Devonshire are held generally
by a lease of three lives, or for ninety-nine years. As the v
lives drop, new ones are put in on payment of an ade¬
quate sum. Landed property seems to be more regularly
divided in this county than in most others, there being
very few large freeholds ; and the inhabitants live sociably
and independently upon their own moderate-sized tene¬
ments. Their principal manures are lime, sea-sand, sea¬
weed, and dung.
Besides the productions of Devonshire which it has in
common with other counties, its cider deserves notice. It
is traditionally said that the planting of orchards com¬
menced between two hundred and three hundred years
ago, at Buckland Priory. A great quantity of cider is
now manufactured, and it is in general of a good quality,
but differs according to the districts in which it is made;
that of the neighbourhood of Exeter and the contiguous
places being the most esteemed.
In these parts also a considerable quantity of butter is
made. The average produce from each cow is about a
pound a day. Cattle and sheep are bred and fattened
here in great numbers. The fish which abound in the
rivers and on the coast of Devonshire, besides the home
consumption, afford considerable exports to the Bath and
London markets. The oyster-beds in the neighbourhood
of Lympstone are said to be a hundred acres in extent.
Devonshire cows are celebrated throughout the island.
When in a state of the greatest purity, they are distin¬
guished by a high red colour, without any white spots;
by a light dun ring round the eye; by being fine in the
bone and clean in the neck; by the horns being of a medium
length, bent upwards; by the tail being small and set on
very high; by being thin skinned and silky in handling;
and by the property of feeding at an early age. Ihe
North Devon variety is in high estimation for the fineness
of the grain of the meat; and the superiority of the oxen
over most other breeds, in possessing more activity, being
better calculated for labour, and having more blood, is ge¬
nerally admitted. The ox is in perfection about the fifth
year of his age, and is much used for team-work. The
native horses are small, but hardy, and much accustomed
to the pack-saddle. The breed of sheep is various; mostly
of the Dorsetshire kind as to weight of carcass and length
of wool, but characterized by a great variety of heads, some
having horns, some having none, and others having nobs.
Devonshire was long a manufacturing county for thin
woollen goods; but the trade has of late years rapidly de¬
clined. The greater part of the woollen trade with Spain
was carried on from Exeter; but scarcely a vestige of it
now remains, and that little is chiefly with Bilboa. The
only article now demanded is a species of serges, known
bv the name of long ells, which are spun and woven at Col-
lumpton, Crediton, North Tawton, and in the villages sur¬
rounding those towns, but are dyed and finished for the
East India Company in and near London. Of late years
the manufacture of linen goods, and the spinning of linen
yarn by machinery, has been introduced on the streams
which had previously been applied to work fulling-mills.
The riots of the Luddites in Nottinghamshire drove some
capitalists from that county to Tiverton, where machinery
upon a prodigious scale is in activity, producing lace and
lace-net, for which there is a great demand in France,
Germany, Italy, and most parts of the Continent. Ihe
great manufactory is, however, in the King’s Dock-lard
at Plymouth, where all the stores for building and equip¬
ping ships of war are prepared; and much private ship¬
building is carried on in other ports of the county.
Among the British antiquities of Devonshire are the
numerous cairns on the eminence called Hall-down-hill,
a cromlech at Drew-Steignton, and at a little distance rom
lievct
shir,; '■*
DEV
]|otion. it a bgan or rocking-stone. Several remains of British
\ houses are scattered over Dartmoor.
The ancient castles, now in ruins, are Berry-Pomeroy,
built by Ralph de la Pomeroy, who came to England with
the conqueror ; Compton Castle; Rougemont Castle, for¬
merly the seat of the West Saxon kings, in the vicinity of
Exeter, and, according to tradition, built by Julius Caesar;
the castle of Oakhampton, which stood about a mile south¬
west of the town; Plympton Castle, which was the resi¬
dence of Richard de Rivers, earl of Devon, in the reign of
Henry I. The same person was also in possession of Tiver¬
ton Castle, the ruins of which may still be seen, and of
Totness Castle, which appears to have been erected by
Judhael de Totnais, to whom the manor was given by the
conqueror.
The remains of the abbeys and monasteries of Devon¬
shire are those of Buckfastleigh, near Ashburton; Buck-
land Abbey, on the eastern banks of the river Tay;
Dunkeswell, near Collumpton; the Cistercian Abbey at
Axminster, which is the property of Lord Petre; Hart-
land Abbey, which forms part of the present house of
Paul Orchard, Esq.; the ruins of a priory of Benedic¬
tines at Moodbury; and Tor Abbey, forming a portion of
the modern seat of G. Cary, Esq.
The venerable and magnificent cathedral of Exeter de¬
mands the first notice among the ancient specimens of ec¬
clesiastical buildings. The variety of the styles discovered
in this edifice proves that it was erected at various pe¬
riods. It is supposed that the part called St Mary’s Cha¬
pel is the ancient Saxon church, erected prior to the year
868. It is likely that the first considerable cathedral was
planned by Bishop Warlewart, before the year 1138. At
Bishop’s Seighton is a church in the early Saxon style.
Teignmouth church is a specimen of the earliest building
of the Normans.
The island of Lundy belongs to this county. It is ra¬
ther more than three miles in length, about one in breadth,
and contains 2000 acres of land, of which only 400 are
under cultivation.
The principal noblemen’s and gentlemen’s seats are,
Ugbrooke, near Chudleigh, the beautiful seat of Lord
Clifford; Saltram, the seat of Earl Morley, the largest
mansion in the county; Mount Edgcumbe, that of the
earl of the same name; Nutivele, the beautiful seat of
Sir Thomas Fuller Drake; Castle Hill, that of Lord For-
tescue ; Clovely-Court, that of Sir James Hatnlyn, Bart.;
Bicton, that of John Lord Rolle; Powderham Castle, the
principal seat of the Courtenay family ; Escot Plouse, that
of Sir John Kennaway, Bart.; Haldon House, that of Sir
Laurence Palk, Bart.; and Werrington, a seat of the Duke
of Northumberland.
The number of inhabitants in this county is stated in
some doubtful accounts to have been 248,000 in the year
1700, and 272,000 in 1750. By the more accurate re¬
turns of the four decennial censuses, the numbers appear
to be as follows, viz. 343,001 in 1801, 383,308 in 1811,
439,040 in 1821, and 494,400 in 1831. The annual value
of the real property of the county, according to the assess¬
ment of the year 1815, amounts to L.l,897,515.
See Polwhele’s History of Devon, and Deauties of Eng¬
land and Wales.
DEVOTION (Devotio), a sincere and ardent worship of
the Deity.
Devotion, as defined by Jurieu, is a softening and yield¬
ing of the heart, with an internal consolation, which the
souls of believers feel in the practice or exercise of piety.
By devotion is also understood certain religious practices
which a person makes it a rule to discharge regularly;
and with reason, if the exactitude be founded on solid
piety; otherwise it is vanity or superstition. Ihat devo-
DEV 747
tion is vain and trifling which would accommodate itself Devotion,
both to God and to the world.
Ihe character of devotion has frequently suffered from
the foibidding air which has been thrown over it, by the
narrowness of bigotry on the one hand, or the gloom of
superstition on the other. When free, cheerful, and gene¬
rous minds have not had occasion to see it accompanied
with those feelings of delight and benevolence which na-
tuially attend it, they are apt to be prejudiced against piety
at large, by mistaking this ungracious appearance for its
genuine form. Nor has the rant of vulgar enthusiasts con-
tiibuted little to beget and strengthen the same aversion
in persons of a cool and speculative temper, who have »
happened to meet among religionists of a certain strain
with such images and phrases as ill suit the rational, pure,
and spiritual nature of true devotion. It may likewise be
remarked, on the other hand, that people of taste and sen¬
sibility have not unfrequently been disgusted with the insi¬
pid style too often employed on such subjects, by those
who possess neither, or who purposely avoid every thing
of the kind, from an aim at simplicity misunderstood, or
perhaps from a fear of being thought too zealous in an age
of fashionable indifference and false refinement.
W herever the vital and unadulterated spirit of Christian
devotion prevails, its immediate object will be to please
him whom we were made to please, by adoring his perfec¬
tions ; by admiring his works and ways; by entertaining
with reverence and complacence the various intimations
of his pleasure, especially those contained in holy writ;
by acknowledging, our absolute dependence and infinite
obligations; by confessing and lamenting the disorders of
our nature and the transgressions of our lives ; by implor¬
ing his grace and mercy through Jesus Christ; by inter¬
ceding for our brethren of mankind ; by praying for the
propagation and embellishment of truth, righteousness,
and peace on earth; in fine, by longing for a more entire
conformity to the will of God, and breathing after the
everlasting enjoyment of his favour. The effects of such
a spirit habitually cherished, and feelingly expressed be¬
fore him, with conceptions more or less enlarged and
elevated, in language more or less emphatical and accu¬
rate sententious or diffuse, must surely be important and
happy. Amongst these effects may be reckoned, a pro¬
found humility in the sight of God, a high veneration for
his presence and attributes, an ardent zeal for his worship
and honour, an affectionate faith in the Saviour of the
world, a constant imitation of his divine example, a diffu¬
sive charity for men of all denominations, a generous and
unwearied self-denial for the sake of virtue and society, a
total resignation to Providence, an increasing esteem for
the gospel, with clearer and firmer hopes of that immor¬
tal life which it alone has brought clearly to light.
Devotion, among the Romans, was a kind of sacrifice
or ceremony, by which they consecrated themselves to the
service of some person. The ancients had a notion that
the life of one might be ransomed by the death of ano¬
ther ; and hence such devotions became frequent for the
lives of the emperors. Devotion to any particular person
was unknown among the Romans till the time of Augus¬
tus. The very day after the title of Augustus had been
conferred upon Octavius, Pacuvius, a tribune of the peo¬
ple, publicly declared that he would devote himself t©
Augustus, and obey him at the expense of his life, as was
the practice among barbarous nations, if he were com¬
manded. His example was immediately followed by all
the rest, till at length it became an established custom
never to go to salute the emperor without declaring that
they were devoted to him. Before this the practice of
the Romans was that of devoting themselves to then-
country.
748 DEW
Dew. DEW is the humidity which the air, under certain cir-
cumstances, deposits, in the form of minute globules, on
Etymology the surfaces of the bodies in contact with it. The Greek
of the term cSgotfoj was evidently derived from G&ws, aqua, imply-
word. jncr simply watering or humifaction. The Latin name ros
is of the same descent. Our English word is obviously
borrowed from the German thati, akin to the verb which
signifies to melt, and conveying the idea therefore, in the
Shaksperian phraseology, of air “ melting, thawing, and re¬
solving itself into a dew” The Swedish term dag is no
doubt of the same origin, though it likewise denotes low
mist or floating vapour. It is remarkable that the French
language, though certainly not remarkable for its copious¬
ness, has two distinct terms for dew : serein for the humi¬
dity which collects in the evening; and rosee, for what ap¬
pears accumulated in the morning; the latter being de¬
rived from the Latin word ros, and the former intimating
that clearness and serenity of the sky which is most con¬
ducive to the formation of dew.
When the atmosphere has a temperature below the
point of congelation, the dew which might adhere to the
substances exposed to it passes into the form of hoar¬
frost. This was called by the Greeks -raj/yjj, from its hard
or consolidated nature. The French term is exactly the
same compound as our own, white frost or gelee blanche.
But the German language has a simple and primitive
word to denote it, reij; which, in the Swedish, has been
slightly modified into rim, a word likewise adopted by the
older English writers, and still retained in the Scottish
dialect, or dilated into rime-frost, and thence probably cor¬
rupted into raw-frost.
Ancient As dew appears to collect only during fine clear nights,
notions _ when the heavens glow with sparkling constellations, the
concerning ancientS) in the infancy of science, imagined it to be ac-
dew' tually shed from the stars, and, therefore, to partake of a
pure and celestial essence. Hence the vulgar notion that
dew falls, which has prevailed through all ages, and con¬
tinues to tincture every language.1 The mythologists de¬
scribed dew as the daughter of Jove and of the Moon ;2
and Plutarch asserts it to be most abundant in the time
of full moon. The lunar beams themselves were suppos¬
ed to contribute some influence, being of a cold nature,
and therefore possessed of a humifying quality.3 The
moon, it was imagined, performed merely the office of an
imperfect mirror, reflecting the softened lustre of the sun
without any portion of bis heat.
Its abster- The dew of heaven has always been regarded as a fluid
gsnt qua- 0f the purest and most translucid nature. Hence it was
uty- celebrated for that abstergent property which, according
to the vulgar persuasion, enables it to remove all spots
and stains, and to impart to the skin the bloom and fresh¬
ness of virgin beauty. Like the elixir of later times, it
w'as conceived to possess the power of extending the du¬
ration of human life ; and Ammianus Marcellinus ascribes
the longevity and robust health of mountaineers, in com¬
parison with the inhabitants of the plains, chiefly to the
frequent aspersion of dew on their gelid bodies. Dew
was also employed as a most powerful agent, in all their
operations, by the alchemists; some of whom pretended
that it possessed such a subtile and penetrating efficacy as
to be capable of dissolving gold itself. Following out the
same idea, the people of remote antiquity fancied that the
DEW
external application of dew had some virtue in correcting Dew
any disposition to corpulence. The ladies of those days, r t
anxious to preserve their fine forms, procured this celestial \l£.
wash, by exposing clothes or fleeces of wool to the humi¬
faction of the night. It was likewise imagined that grass¬
hoppers feed wholly on dew, and owe their lean features
perhaps to such spare diet.4
The philosophers of Greece, after genuine knowledge Opiniom
had illumined that interesting region, entertained far just-Aristotf
er notions concerning the nature and formation of dew.
Aristotle, whose universal genius ranged over both the
physical and the intellectual world, studied facts closely,
and sought to reason accurately from the phenomena ac¬
tually observed. In his book De Mundo, he defines “ dew
to be humidity detached in minute particles from the clear
chill atmosphere.”5 In his treatise of Meteorology, he states
that “ dew is only formed beneath a calm and cloudless
sky, but never in windy weather.”6 He further subjoins,
that it collects in low places, and not on the summits of
mountains. Vapour, which, according to him, is only
heat combined with water, rises in the atmosphere during
the day; but when the cold begins to prevail at night it
again discharges its humidity. This vapour, however, he
thinks can never ascend high above the surface of the
earth, both because it must soon lose its buoyant heat, and
because in lofty situations it would be scattered and dis¬
solved by the agitation of the air. Dew is hence most co¬
pious in fine weather, and in low damp situations. A north
wind checks its production, but a gentle southern gale,
charged with humidity, will occasion a copious deposit.
When a more intense cold prevails in the atmosphere, the
vapour precipitates its humidity in a congealed form, and
the dew passes immediately into hoar-frost. Cold occa¬
sions this consolidation. Dew has hence the same rela¬
tion to hoar-frost that rain bears to snow, the frozen mass *
of clouds constituting the one, and attenuated low vapour,
seized by frost, forming the other. The heat of the sun’s
rays thus first raises the vapour from below; but, in all
its subsequent changes and modifications, the moon and
stars, contrary to the earlier and more popular notions,
exert no sort of influence.
The Aristotelian opinions seem to have given place Opiniom.
among the Homans to the ruder notions which prevailed among t.
in remote antiquity respecting the mode of its formation.llomans-
Pliny invariably speaks of a dew as falling from the hea¬
vens; cum ros cecidisset. We might expect, therefore,
that the poets would continue in their verses to perpetu¬
ate the same idea.
Sparsaque coelesti rore madebit humus. Ovid, Fast. i. 312.
Vitreoque madentia rore,
Tempera noctis eunt. Id. Fast. iii. 880.
 qua prata jacent,
Quae rorifera mulcens aura,
Zephyrus vernas evocat herbas. Sexeca Trag.
Hinc ubi roriferis terram nox obruit umbris. Lucret. vi. 4. 64.
Virgil marks the cold which always accompanies the
formation of dew, and which, when it becomes more in¬
tense, converts the lucid globules into spicular shoots of
hoar-frost. }(
Cum primum gelidos rores aurora remittit. Eclog. viii. 15.
1 Gesner, Facciolatus, and other lexicographers, blend this idea in their definition of dew. Ros, Humor coslo defluens nociu, cum
sudum est, et omnis aura quiescit; qui si gelu concrescat, est Pruina.
2 A/of (Svyarri^ rgiQu xui triXavxs S/asf.
3 Statius has the expression rorifera luna.
4 Rore aluntur cicada. Plix. xi. 26. Dumque thymo pasccntur apes, dim rorc cicada. Virg. Eclog.
5 ispoms irmi vypov e| uiDpiu; xu.ru. uvurutn') ’Kirrmi. .u v rUa/.p
« The same observation is repeated by Pliny, Nat. Hist, xviii. 29—.Neque in nuhe neque inflatu cadunt rores', and in anotner pi ,
still more explicitly, thus : Rores neque gelu, neque ardoribus, neque ventis, nec nisi serena node. Id. ii. 70.
DEW.
The opinion that dew fells from the sky maintained its air, it by no means originates in this fluid
■edit during the course of the middle ages. The alche- ^ ares m ttns fluid
„ es of mists even carried this idea so far as to fancy that, since
749
Dew.
che‘ the dew gradually evanishes in the progress of the day
under the action of the solar rays, it then merely seeks by
sympathy to regain its native seat in the highest heavens.
Nay, some of those ingenious enthusiasts have not scrupled,
in confirmation of their wild hypothesis, broadly to assert
that a few drops of morning dew, being inclosed in an
empty egg-shell, which is placed at the foot of a ladder
resting against the roof of a house, the shell will become
buoyant while the sun shines, and will mount alono- the
ladder till it reaches the very top. The famous Van’Bel¬
mont, who refined on the notions of the alchemists, con-
sidered the lights of heaven as of two distinct kinds, the
one which flows from the sun and rules the day, being
intrinsically warm, and possessing masculine virtue; the
other, which rules the night, and emanates from the moon
and stars, being of a feminine nature, and having a cool or
refrigerating influence. This cold light, he imagined, pro¬
duces the purest essence of water, which is stored in the
moon, to recruit the waste of the nether world ; and he sup¬
posed the allegory of Jacob’s ladder might represent that
perpetual ascent and descent of aqueous matter, by which
the revolution of the system is constantly maintained.
That the moon’s beams are naturally cold, he thought
sufficiently established by the prevailing belief of the
common people, who carefully avoid sleeping in the open
air, without some screen to protect them from the chilling
impressions which are shot down upon the ground.
Baptista Porta asserted that air is actually converted
into water from the accession of cold, and thought this
transmutation proved by the fact that, on the approach of
severe weather, the windows of an apartment have the in¬
side of the panes of glass covered with moisture. Gaspar
Schott, as late nearly as the middle of the seventeenth
century, was so much persuaded of the coldness of the
moon’s rays, that he stoutly appealed to the effects of their
concentration in the focus of a reflector. This experiment,
however, was made sixty years before, and with an oppo¬
site result, by the famous Sanctorio, the founder of scien¬
tific medicine, and the inventor of the thermometer. He
actually employed the air thermometer for the first time;
but this very ingenious inquirer must have been deceived
by some extraneous circumstances, when he saw the li¬
quor sink so considerably as he asserts, under the calorific
action of the moon’s light. The philosophical ideas of
Sanctorio were perhaps in some instances too refined for
his age, and the vulgar notion concerning the production
of dew continued afterwards, for more than an hundred
years, to be still generally retained. But the progress of
horticulture near the latter part of the seventeenth cen¬
tury brought out some unexpected facts, which seemed at
variance with the popular belief. It was remarked that a
bell-glass being placed in the evening over a plant, was
in the morning profusely covered with dew on the inside,
though scarcely any moisture appeared to adhere to the
external surface. The humidity which formed the minute
globules must therefore have risen from the plant or the
ground, and adhered against the glass.
'scope. Such, however, was the very slow advance of sound
philosophy, that Perlicius, who proposed what he calls a
Drososcope, consisting of an oblique balance playing in a
soft rack, for indicating the quantity of dew accumulated
in the absence of the observer, concludes the discourse
which, under the direction of Professor Weidler, he deli¬
vered in scholastic form on taking out his degree at Wur-
temberg in 1727, with the general inference that dew de¬
scends to us from the atmosphere of Jupiter, Venus, the
Moon, Mars, and Saturn; but that, though it falls from the
-   He had found
in the month of August that 250 grains of dew formed on
the surface ot a square foot in the country, while only
ninety-four, and at other times seventy-six, or even sixty-
four grains, were deposited in the town.
The first person, however, who appears to have openly Ideas of
i ejected the inveterate opinion of the descent of dew, wasGfersten.
Gersten, another German professor, who made several ex¬
periments on the subject, and printed at Giessen, in 1733,
an academical thesis, in which he advanced the opposite
hypothesis. He found that all plants exhale, in various
proportions, the moisture which forms the aqueous depo¬
sit ; and remarked, that plates of copper exposed during
the night have only their under surface bedewed. This
dissertation led the celebrated Professor Muschenbroeck
to repeat the same observations at Utrecht. Having ob¬
tained similar results, he communicated the main facts to
his Parisian correspondent, M. du Fay, who planned im¬
mediately a series of experiments on a large scale. This Observa-
ingenious philosopher caused two tall ladders to be set up, tionsof Du
reclining against each other, in a vacant space, remote Fay.
from all trees and lofty buildings; and on the 25th Octo¬
ber 1736, at four o’clock in the evening, the weather be¬
ing clear and calm, he laid panes of glass on the steps at
the different heights of six, thirteen, seventeen, twenty-
five, and thirty-one feet above the ground. These he
visited at certain intervals during the progress of the night.
By five o clock a pane close to the ground had its under
side completely wet, while its upper side was only slightly
dewed. At six o’clock the pane, six feet above the sur¬
face, was covered with dew ; and at seven o’clock the ef¬
fect had reached the highest pane. During the whole
night the dew continued to form; but it appeared always
more copious on the lower panes.
These facts might be deemed sufficiently conclusive ;
but M. du Fay sought likewise to ascertain the relative
quantities of moisture deposited at different altitudes. He
procured several rectangular bits of green cloth, cut six
inches long and four inches broad, and adjusted all to the
same weight. These he suspended in horizontal positions
at four o’clock in the evening, one of them only half a foot
above the ground, and the rest at the heights of six, thir¬
teen, and twenty-five feet. On weighing them next morn¬
ing he found that they had respectively imbibed fifty-three,
sixty-six, fifty-six, and fifty-four grains of dew. The sub¬
sequent night having proved windy, they gained only
seven, nine, ten, and six grains. It was evident, there¬
fore, that dew is formed not only sooner, but more copi¬
ously, near the surface of the ground than at greater eleva¬
tions.
To determine still more precisely the several quanti¬
ties of moisture imbibed at different heights, M. du Fay
took three linen towels, each three and a half feet long
and two and a half broad, and having dried them thorough¬
ly in the sun, he stretched them horizontally at one foot,
and seventeen, and twenty-eight feet above the ground.
After exposure during the whole night, the air being quite
clear and calm, the lowest one was found to have gained
3060 grains, the next only 2346, and the highest 2742.
There occurs some slight anomaly in this result; but on
reducing the greatest effect to English measures, it corre¬
sponds almost exactly to a cubic inch of dew for each
square foot of the surface. This might appear to be
rather a low estimate for the climate of Paris in the au¬
tumnal season, since, at the same rate, it would give only
a deposit of about two and a half inches during the whole
year.
In the mean time, Muschenbroeck made observations on Discovery
the humifaction of substances placed above the leaden of Mus-
platform of his observatory at Utrecht. The dew formed chenbroeck.
750
DEW.
Dew. in such a situation, he thought, could not have risen from
the ground, but must have fallen from the atmosphere.
But, pushing these experiments further, he was conduct¬
ed to a most curious and interesting discovery. He found
that dew forms in very different proportions on different
bodies, and that it will scarcely adhere to a surface of
polished metal, while it streams profusely over glass or
porcelain. Even the colour of the substance appeared, in
some instances, to alter the effect. Thus, a piece of red
morocco leather acquired, by exposure through the night,
twice as much dew as another piece of the same size,
whether black or blue. A closer examination, however,
convinced him that this modification was not caused by
the mere colour itself, but wTas occasioned by the addition
or infusion of the matter employed to produce it.
Extension M. du Fay, on his part, repeated those experiments
byDu Fay. tile same success. He likewise performed others of
a similar description. Electricity was at this period in
high vogue, and he had distinguished himself in that de¬
partment. It, therefore, struck M. du Fay that the dispo¬
sition of certain bodies to attract or to repel dew was some¬
how connected with the distinction into electrics and con¬
ductors. In the prosecution of this idea he sought to
compare the humifying action of vitreous with that of re¬
sinous substances. He took a tin basin, of the same shape
and dimensions as one of glass, and having coated it on
both sides with forty or fifty applications of a solution of
shell-lac in alcohol, he exposed the two vessels during a
fine clear night; but the surface of the glass was found
to gather twice as much dew as the resinous coating. In
the course of his researches, he likewise noticed another
curious fact, the explication of which must be referred to
a recent discovery. Flaving selected two large and equal
watch-glasses, he set their convex faces horizontally, the
one on a porcelain and the other on a silver saucer, and
exposed them both, in this position, to the influence of
the night-air; when the former was always observed to
collect five or six times more dew than the latter. The
metallic surface must have, therefore, in some way or
other, contributed by its presence to check the precipita¬
tion of humidity, though its direct action is confined to a
very narrow limit, since, under a resinous coating of only
the hundredth part of an inch in thickness, the effect is
precisely the same as with a cake of wax. In confirma¬
tion of this remark, having composed a square plate, by
cementing at the edge a polished rectangle of brass, six
inches long and three inches broad, to a similar piece of
glass, he found, on exposing it to the atmosphere at night,
the vitreous surface covered as usual with dew, while the
metallic one was scarcely at all affected; but, on laying
another slip of glass across these plates, the end which
rested on the brass remained quite dry, while the other
end soon became profusely wetted,
llesults. It seemed to follow from the experiments of Muschen-
broeck and Du Fay, that, strictly speaking, dew neither
falls nor rises, but, according to the doctrine of Aristotle,
only separates, under a certain change of circumstances,
from the air, and attaches itself to some substances in
preference to others. The theory of vapour, proposed
afterwards by Le Roy of Montpellier, threw further light
on the subject. Moisture is suspended in the atmosphere
by a real chemical solution, in the same manner as nitre
and other salts are dissolved in w'ater. The solvent energy
is in both cases augmented by the addition of heat. A
rise of temperature enables the air to support a larger
portion of humidity, while the decrease of it enfeebles the
attractive power, and occasions a precipitation in the shape
of mist or dew. This perspicuous explication, as we have
seen, had been already anticipated, though but vaguely
stated, by Aristotle.
A deposition entirely similar to dew or hoar-frost is Dew.
hence formed, whenever the air becomes suddenly chill- Y'y
ed, by touching any surface much colder than itself, and
not consisting of polished metal. Thus the walls of long
passages, vaults, or massive buildings, generally drip with
wet during the early part of the summer, before the ex¬
ternal heat has sufficiently penetrated. In like manner,
it is observed, that when a severe and long-continued frost
is succeeded by a thaw, the backs of houses are quickly
incrusted with shoots of hoary icicles.
The formation of dew is hence easily produced artifi¬
cially in a close room, without waiting for exposure under
a clear nocturnal sky. If a caraffe, filled with water from
a spring or well, be carried into a warm apartment, the
outside of the glass will become soon covered over with an
aqueous deposit, which must increase till the body of water
has acquired nearly the temperature of the encircling air,
and will afterwards gradually disappear. But if a piece of
tin-foil be applied to the bottle, it will remain dry, while
the rest of the surface appears humified with dew.
It is a curious fact, that air always begins to deposit Various
its moisture on glass, even before it has reached the pointobserva-
of saturation, or become absolutely damp. This property, fions of
and the circumstances connected with it, Professor Leslie Leslie-
discovered, in the year 1798, by help of his hygrometer,
which he had already brought nearly to a state of perfec¬
tion. On exposing wine-glasses at the approach of even¬
ing, they were soon covered with dew, wdiile this instru¬
ment still indicated several degrees of dryness. The dif¬
ference was yet greater in summer than in winter. The
hygrometer being inclosed within a small glass receiver,
placed on a wetted plate likewise of glass, stood, after the
whole internal surface had become lined with dew, at 5°
in a very cold room, but at 15° when the apartment was
kept warm.
The general observation is explained by Professor Les¬
lie’s researches into the propagation of heat. No adjoin¬
ing substances can ever come into absolute contact; but
air approaches much nearer to the boundary of glass, por¬
celain, or paper, than to a surface of polished metal. By
an extension, therefore, of the principle of capillary action,
the suspended aqueous particles, which have a strong ad¬
hesion to glass, to which they are brought so close, readily
detach themselves from their union with the air. But the
same particles being held back from the proximity of a
metallic surface to which they have little attraction, are
never deposited on it unless the air is actually overloaded
with them. The hygrometer will accordingly reach the
absolute zero when it is shut up within a case of polished
tin.
Professor Leslie afterwards made several occasional obser¬
vations relative to the production of dew, particularly during
a series of clear warm days in the month of May 1801, at
Easbury, in Dorsetshire, where he placed his instruments
both on the lawn and on the balustrade of a tower sixty
feet in height. Without entering into details, it may be
sufficient here to mention the principal results. The perio¬
dical variations, both of the hygrometer and thermometer,
were much greater near the surface than at some eleva¬
tion. On the approach of sunset the thermometer on the
ground sunk rapidly; the hygrometer relapsed to about
five degrees, and the dew began to form on the blades of
grass. During the night, the thermometer descended still
lower, the hygrometer indicated absolute humidity, and
the lawn was covered with a profusion of dew. But a
little after sunrise, the thermometer again mounted, the
hygrometer began to act, and the sheet of moisture gra¬
dually exhaled. In the progress of the day the heat and
dryness increased; and, about two o clock, the thermo¬
meter and hygrometer, both of them screened from the
j ;«
J Hi.
I a«i
I.
1
i!?W.
a
Epl-ica*
tiiofthe
p! o-
m i*
5 Of
•e-
D E
direct action of the sun, stood generally, the former at 75°,
and the latter at 85°. But, on the top of the tower, all
those changes were less violent. The thermometer, which
at that altitude seldom rose in the course of the day to
70°, or the hygrometer to 65°, indicated, as night again
closed, a depression, though very moderate in companson
with what was shown at the surface of the ground. The
thermometer stood several degrees higher than below, the
hygrometer remained at a dryness of 15° or 20°, and no
dew was deposited on the balustrade. But similar differ¬
ences of effect, although on a smaller scale, were exhi¬
bited at very moderate heights. On lifting those instru¬
ments in the evening only a foot from the ground, the
thermometer would rise a degree or two, and the hygro¬
meter mount from the verge of moisture to perhaps^ 10°.
At an elevation of four feet those changes were nearly
doubled. The dew thus always began, as in Du Fay’s
experiments, to form at the surface of the earth, and con¬
tinued to mount upwards with the progress of the night.
It is hence easy to explain the general phenomena of
dew. “ In fine calm weather, after the rays of the de¬
clining sun have ceased to warm the surface of the ground,
the descent of the higher mass of air gradually chills the
undermost stratum, and disposes it to dampness, till their
continued intermixture produces a fog, or low cloud. Such
fogs are, towards the evening, often observed gathering in
narrow vales, or along the course of sluggish rivers, and ge¬
nerally hovering within a few inches of the surface. But in
all situations, these watery deposits, either to a greater or
a less degree, occur in the same disposition of the atmo¬
sphere. The minute suspended globules, attaching them¬
selves to the projecting points of the herbage, form dew
in mild weather, or shoot into hoar-frost when cold predo¬
minates. They collect most readily on glass, but seem to
be repelled by a bright surface of metal.”1 The unequal
heating of the surface during the day thus occasions, on
statical principles, a perpetual interchange between the
higher and the lower atmosphere, which is prolonged
through the night, the warm portions of air still continuing
to ascend, and leaving their place to be occupied by the
descent of similar cold portions of that fluid. This verti¬
cal play is a provision of nature for the attempering of the
diurnal vicissitudes of climate. “ In clear and calm wea¬
ther, the air is always drier near the surface during the
day than at a certain height above the ground, but it be¬
comes damper on the approach of evening, while, at some
elevation, it retains a moderate degree of dryness through
the whole of the night. If the sky be clouded, less altera¬
tion is betrayed in the state of the air, both during the
progress of the day and at different distances from the
ground ; and if wind prevail, the lower strata of the atmo¬
sphere, thus agitated and intermingled, will be reduced to
a still nearer equality of condition.”2
The descent of chill air caused by superior density,
explains the formation of dew in low situations, and its
progressive elevation as the cold accumulates. But some
further explication was wanted to reconcile the concluding
observations of M. du Fay. The subject was in conse¬
quence resumed by M. Benedict Prevost, who performed
a curious set of experiments, described in a Memoir read
before the Philosophical Society of Montauban in 1803.
The results are certainly perplexing, and would almost
seem anomalous. 1. Tin or copper foil, and gold or silver
leaf, being applied to plates of glass, and exposed to dew,
were observed, as before, to remain generally dry, while
the vitreous surface became bathed with moisture. 2. Af¬
ter exposure to the night air, not only a dry border ap-
W.
751
peared, extending a little way beyond the film of metal, Dew.
but the side opposite to that coating continued still dry,
though all the rest of the glass wras profusely wetted.
3. A piece of glass, being laid above the metallic leaf,
destroyed its effect.. 4. A rectangular piece of tin-foil
being pasted on the inside, at the top of a pane of glass,
in a window having a northern exposure, and a similar
piece applied at the bottom on the outside; when the
dewing began first against the inside, the interior coating
appeared wetter than the naked surface, and the portion
of this immediately behind the exterior coating seemed
always drier than the rest. The facts were exactly re¬
versed when the dewing commenced on the outside of the
window. 5. Opposite to the middle of a rectangular leaf
of metal, a similar but smaller piece being applied on the
outside of the pane, wdien the dew began to form within
the apartment, the space behind the exterior coating still
remained dry. 6. In all cases, whether on the inside or
the outside of the pane, on covering the metallic leaf with
a piece of glass of the same dimensions, the effect was
exactly the same as if no metal had been interposed.
7. Similar appearances were produced by combining gilt
paper or quicksilvered glass, the results depending wdiolly
on the nature of the extreme surfaces, according as they
consisted of metal, or of glass or paper.
On reviewing these curious facts, M. Prevost was struck
with their apparent analogy to the phenomena of electri¬
city. He thought they might all be comprised under a
single proposition : T/iat glass which separates two masses
of air of unequal temperatures attracts or repels humidity ac¬
cording as it is armed with metal on the hot or on the cold
side. To account for these very singular yet interesting
facts, he proposed a random and strained hypothesis,
grounded on some loose notions of chemical affinities. But
we need not stop to examine it.
Dr Thomas Young, in his Lectures on Natural xheoreti-
phy, published in 1806, concludes a short abstract of the ex- cal views,
periments of Prevost with suggesting, that they would de¬
rive their explication from Professor Leslie’s Discoveries on
Heat. The anticipation wras perfectly just, though the dis¬
coveries themselves required then a little further extension
to embrace the whole phenomena. Professor Leslie had
carefully investigated the law's which modify the propaga¬
tion of hot or cold pulses through an aerial medium from
a solid or a liquid boundary. But he did not contemplate
the pulsation excited at the conterminous surface of two
strata of air having different temperatures. It was indeed
impossible to devise an experiment in which the opposite
layers of fluid could be kept distinct, for the warmer por¬
tions of air would seek always to rise, while its colder and
denser portions would endeavour to sink downwards, and
thus form, by insensible shades, a vertical gradation of
temperature. But though the pulsatory action excited at
each successive horizontal stratum might singly escape
observation, it seemed probable that the accumulated im¬
pressions transmitted from numerous boundaries would
become very sensible. Accordingly, in a close heated
room, the pyroscope, or differential thermometer, having
one of its balls gilt, which is susceptible of such pulses
only, marks, near the floor, perhaps four or five degrees
of calorific impression, yet, when lifted higher, it indicates
an effect always diminishing in proportion to the proximity
of the ceiling. The entire action exerted, or the amount
of the intermediate energies, was therefore, as the excess
of the temperature of the stratum of air next the ceiling
above that of the stratum in which the instrument hap¬
pened to be placed. Carried out of doors in clear and
1 Leslie On the Relations of Air to Heat and Moisture, p. 132.
2 Ibid. p. 92.
752
DEW.
Dew.
calm weather, after the sun had withdrawn his beams, it
betrayed a much stronger tendency the contrary way, and
marked a copious frigorific impression, evidently produced
by the coldness which must pervade the upper regions of
the atmosphere. But to fit the pyroscope for making
observations during the day, it was converted into the
jEthrioscope, in which the influence of light is neutralized;
a combination of great delicacy, and, therefore, a valuable
acquisition to meteorological science. (See the article Cli¬
mate.) The application of this new instrument has not
only ascertained the existence, but measured the intensity,
of "the cold pulses which are at all times darted down¬
wards from the successive strata of air, though often par¬
tially intercepted by clouds, or more completely obstruct¬
ed by low fogs. But since the spheroidal cup, which con¬
centrates the various oblique impressions on the upper
ball of the sethrioscope, can do little more than double the
direct action against a horizontal surface, it may hence
be computed that, in fine bright evenings, those cold
pulses rained from the sky are sufficient alone to depiess
the temperature of the ground, according to the seasons,
sometimes eight degrees, but generally about three de¬
grees, by Fahrenheit’s scale. The blades of grass, thus
chilled from exposure, cool in their turn the damp air
which touches them, and cause it to drop its moisture.
For the same reason, the naked ball of the aethrioscope,
as it is still more cooled, appears much sooner affected,
being commonly covered with profuse liquid globules long
before the dew” has begun to form on the surface of the
ground.
Anomalies All the difficulties and seeming anomalies of the obser-
explained. rations of Du Fay and Prevost now vanish away. The
various phenomena proceed chiefly from the cold induced
by exposure under a clear sky; but other causes will often
essentially modify the results. 1. The impression received
on a plate of polished metal scarcely amounts to the tenth
part of what is communicated to a surface of glass, wood,
cloth, paper, earth, or grass. 2. When the action continues
the same, the corresponding depression of temperature yet
depends on the slowness with which the cold is subse¬
quently dispersed. In calm weather a plate of glass, or a
sheet of paper, if covered on both sides with a leaf of me¬
tal, will gain or lose heat twice as slow as before, and if
coated only on one side, its progress will be a half slower.
But high winds greatly assist the dispersion of heat, and
often reduce the effects of external impressions to the
third or the fourth part of their ordinary measure.
Hence the reason why scarcely any dew is formed in
windy weather, though the sky be clear; for the frigorific
pulses must then have little efficacy, not cooling the ground
perhaps more than one or two degrees. In the last obser¬
vation of Du Fay, the slip of glass laid across the rectan¬
gle, composed of alternate bars of glass and of brass, being
greatly chilled by exposure, had by contact communicated
its coldness to the matter under it, and thus enabled the
metal to assist in the deposition of dew. In Prevost’s se¬
cond experiment, the metallic leaf, being scarcely affected
by the frigorific impressions, checked by its presence the
progress of cold along the vitreous surface, and therefore
maintained a dry border all around it. Hence, in his third
experiment, a piece of glass covering the metal received
the entire impressions, and restored the former effect. I he
application of a metallic coating against the inside of a
pane, must, in the fourth experiment, have augmented by
one half the efficacy of the external pulses of cold, and
thus made the dew to attach more profusely, bor a like
reason, while a leaf of metal on the outside of a pane be¬
came, in the fifth experiment, slightly dewed, the addition
of a smaller metallic leaf against the inside increased the
effect, by promoting the accumulation of cold.
The remarkable experiments which the late Dr Patrick Dew
Wilson, professor of practical astronomy in the university ^—-yv
of Glasgow, performed during the severe frost of January WiiSon
1780, are easily explained on the same principles. In theobservaj
declivity of a garden, a thermometer laid, in a clear starts on
light, on the surface of the snow, stood from eight to ten loar'fr«
degrees lower than when suspended at the height of a few
inches. This excessive cold was evidently not occasioned
by evaporation; for, on blowing with bellows against the
bulb when it lay on the snow, so far from sinking more,
the mercury actually rose two degrees higher than its sta¬
tion in the free air. The intensity was no doubt in part
owing to the low position of the snow; for a thermometer
suspended at a pole projecting from a window twenty-four
feet above the surface indicated four degrees less cold
than below. But, besides the accumulating action of the
descent of cold air, the snow must have been also chilled
extremely by the frigorific pulses darted from an azure
sky. This inference, though not perceived at the time,
or, indeed, likely to have been admitted then as philoso¬
phical, is distinctly supported by an experiment of Dr
Wilson. Having screened a spot of the garden by a sort
of sharp roof formed with two inclined sheets of brown
paper, and laid a thermometer under it on the surface of
the snow, the instrument soon marked six degrees of less
cold than before, or than another exposed at only a short
distance. But this open screen, since it could not impede
the mere descent and influx of cold air, must have inter¬
cepted a more powerful frigorific influence.
Dr Wilson afterwards performed other similar experi¬
ments, which are detailed in his paper on hoar-frost, drawn
up in 1788, and inserted in the first volume of the Trans¬
actions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. He made the
important remark, that during a fog there was no differ¬
ence of temperature between the surface of snow and the
incumbent air. But he neglected to pursue the conse¬
quences, and was disposed, from the various facts which
he had observed, to conclude vaguely that hoar-frost is
always accompanied by a production of cold.
About the same time Mr Six of Canterbury, the in-six’s ob.
ventor of the self-registering thermometer, employed thatsemtioi:
very useful instrument in making similar but more exten-ondew.
sive observations. He found, in a clear summer evening,
his thermometer, when laid on the grass, to sink five de¬
grees lower than when suspended freely near the surface.
But he had occasion afterwards to remark still greater dif¬
ferences. On a clear and still night in winter, the ther¬
mometer which had been supported in the air fell no fewer
than thirteen and a half degrees when placed flat on a
meadow. He likewise noticed, as Dr Wilson had done,
that thick fogs always impede, and often wholly prevent,
the peculiar cooling of the ground.
It seemed therefore ascertained that, in the absence of
the sun, the surface of the earth, and especially its pro¬
jecting herbage, acquire, in calm weather, from the mere
aspect of a bright and unclouded sky, a very notable de¬
gree of cold. This cold appears likewise connected evi¬
dently with the formation of dew. But what is the nature
of that relation? Is the coldness contracted by substan¬
ces on exposure to the nocturnal air to be considered as
the effect or as the cause of their dewing ? The former
opinion, we have seen, was espoused by Dr Wilson, though
sound theory should make us expect that the deposition
of dew, or the conversion of humidity from a gaseous to
the liquid state, must, on the contrary, occasion a small
extrication of heat. But constant experience shows that
cold bodies, not sheathed with metallic lustre, become
always sprinkled with minute aqueous globules, from the
contact of damp air. The simplest truths, however, are
very seldom the soonest perceived, and the late ingenious
Pr
ffltO
D E W
p. and learned Dr Wells has the merit of being the first who
^  ' distinctly attributed the formation of dew to the previous
Ipery coid induced on the ground from the aspect of the skv
r He had early conceived an opposite idea, but a closer ex¬
amination of the subject led him to adopt juster views
Being once engaged in the research, he prosecuted his
observations with assiduity and ardour for upwards of two
years, at a friend’s villa on the skirts of London, in spite
of his professional avocations, and at the evident risk of
his precarious health. The numerous facts thus collected
are detailed in his Essay on Dew, which appeared in 1814
and immediately attracted a very considerable share of
public notice. This little work, however, does not add much
to our stock of accurate information, but it is rendered in¬
teresting by the variety of collateral objects which it em¬
braces. The experiments themselves rarely display address
or delicacy; and Dr Wells, without ever employing the
hygrometer or the pyroscope, instruments which he could
have then easily procured, generally contents himself with
stating merely rude approximations. Fortunately, such
coarse results were sufficient to support the main princi¬
ple, for otherwise they would have required much correc¬
tion. But we must still regret that the worthy author
should have frequently trusted to conjectural reasoning,
instead of appealing to direct experiment.
A1 "act of The chief observations collected by Dr Wells may be
hi to- reduced to a narrow compass. The coldness of the objects
va ^ exposed was always found to precede the formation of dew,
which continued, in favourable circumstances, to accumu¬
late somewhat progressively during the whole night, so
that, from midnight to sunrise, the deposition was even
greater than from sunset to midnight. Dew was more
abundant in the spring and autumn than at other seasons,
and it was always very copious when the atmosphere in¬
clined to humidity; for instance, in clear nights succeed¬
ing to misty mornings, or in clear mornings succeeding to
misty nights.
The coldness which bodies contract from exposure must
be augmented by every circumstance which retards the
communication of heat. Hence loose and spongy mate¬
rials are mostly affected. Thus, in a clear night the grass
was twelve degrees colder than the garden mould, and
sixteen and a half degrees colder than a hard gravel walk.
In another bright evening, the surface of snow being nine
degrees colder than the air, a piece of swandown laid on
it became still four degrees colder. Again, a lock of wool
placed on a small table in the garden became nine and a
half degrees colder than the air, while swandown, in the
same situation, acquired a coldness of eleven and a half
degrees.
The quantities of dew which attach to different substan¬
ces appear to follow the proportions of their relative cold¬
ness. Parcels of wool, each weighing ten grains, being
teased out into flattened balls of two and a half inches di¬
ameter, and laid on a grass plot, on a gravel walk, and on
fresh garden mould, acquired, during a clear calm night,
respectively, sixteen, nine, and eight grains of humidity.
In another favourable night ten grains of wool laid on the
table attracted sixteen grains of dew, while another simi¬
lar parcel, suspended at the same height in the free air,
acquired only ten grains ; but the former must have also
been much colder than the latter, since its confined situ¬
ation, unlike the open exposition, would check the dissipa¬
tion of the frigorific impressions. Hence dew is always
denser on grass than on the leaves of shrubs.
But the cooling of substances from exposure, though one
great source of dew, is not the only cause of its formation.
In low fogs, while the ground is scarcely colder than the
incumbent bed of air, the humidity yet settles profusely
on all bodies, even on the polished surface of metals. From
VOL. VII.
dew
753
Six s experiments, it appears that, from the height of 200 Dewagur
teet, the temperature of the atmosphere, in fine evenings, 11°
decreases regularly about ten degrees, the colder and 1)6 Wit.
t ieieiore denser portions being always thrown down to^~TTv^,/
the surface. Hence the reason of the ancient remark, thatt<?ldne*sof
dew is more copious in low vales than on the tops of hills, not the6
But the observations of Dr Wells serve to confirm the ge-sole cause
neial statement. A lock of wool exposed on a table, im-ofdew.
biped, during a clear night, sixteen grains of dew; but a si¬
milar parcel, placed immediately under the table, and con¬
sequently screened from the aspect of the sky, attracted
four grains. In the latter case, the mere accumulation of
cold air below must have occasioned the aqueous denosi-
tion. 1
It might perhaps have been judged sufficient if Dr Wells
had contented himself with assuming the coldness indu¬
ced on the ground as merely an experimental fact. At
any rate, we cannot help regretting that he should have
sought the explication of this primary phenomenon from
the very loose, cumbrous, and visionary hypothesis of M.
Prevost of Geneva, concerning what is gratuitously called
radiant heat. We are at a loss indeed to conceive how a
speculation so repugnant to all the principles of sound
philosophy should at this time have procured any favour,
unless it proceeds from the blind admiration which the
multitude are prone to entertain for whatever lulls the
reasoning faculty, and appears cloudy and mysterious. See
Meteorology. (b.)
DEWAGUR, a town of Hindustan, in the Mahratta
territories, in the province of Malwah, fifty-five miles
south-east from Kotah. Long. 76. 20. E. Lat. 24. 36. N.
DEW AN, a town of Hindustan, in the province of Gu-
jerat, fifteen miles east-south-east from Cambay. Long.
73. E. Lat. 22. 18. N.
DEWANNY, the revenue department of a province.
DEWARCOTE, a town of Northern Hindustan, and
capital of a district of the same name, which is situated
about the 31st degree of north latitude, between the Jum¬
na and the Ganges. Long. 78. 2. E. Lat. 30. 59. N.
DEWARCUNDAH, a large district of Hindustan, in
the province of Hyderabad, situated principally between
the 18th and 19th degrees of north latitude. It extends
along the south side of the Godavery, and is in a very
desolate state. It contains the ruins of numerous forts
and villages, which show that it was formerly flourishing
and highly cultivated.
DEWARGUNGE, a town of Hindustan, in the pro¬
vince of Bengal, and district of Mymunsingh, situated on
the west side of the Brahmapootra, 110 miles north-by¬
west from Dacca. Long. 89. 40. E. Lat. 25. 7. N.
DE WIT, John, the famous pensionary, was born in
1625, at Dort, where he prosecuted his studies so dili¬
gently, that, at the age of twenty-three, he published Ele-
menta Curvarum Linearum, one of the profoundest books
in mathematics at that time. After taking his degrees,
and travelling, he in 1650 became pensionary of Dort, and
early distinguished himself in the management of public
affairs. He opposed with all his might the war between
the English and the Dutch; and when the event justified
his predictions, he was unanimously chosen pensionary of
Holland. In this capacity he laboured to procure a peace
with Cromwell, in which he succeeded; and a secret arti¬
cle was introduced by one side or other for the exclusion
of the house of Orange. In the war with England after
the king’s restoration, when, on Opdam’s defeat and death,
it was thought expedient that some of their own depu¬
ties should command the fleet, De Wit was one of three
put in commission; and he wrote an accurate relation of all
that happened during the expedition he was engaged in,
for which, on his return, he received the solemn thanks of
5 c
D E Y
D I A
Dewsbury the states-general. In 1667 he established the perpetual
" ' edict for abolishing the office of stadtholder, and fixing
the liberty of the republic, as it was hoped, on a firm
basis; but this produced seditions and tumults, which re¬
stored the office, on pretence that the De Wits were ene¬
mies to the house of Orange, and plundered the state.
The pensionary begged dismission from his post, which
was granted, with thanks for his faithful services. . But
the invasion of the French, and the internal divisions
among the Hollanders themselves, spread everywhere ter¬
ror and confusion, which the Orange party heightened in
order to ruin the De Wits. Cornelius, the pensionary s
brother, was imprisoned and condemned to exile; and a
report having been raised that he would be rescued, the
mob armed themselves, and having surrounded the prison
where the two brothers were confined, dragged them out,
barbarously murdered them, hung the bodies on the gal¬
lows, and cut them in pieces, some of which the assas¬
sins are said to have broiled and eaten with savage fury.
Such was the end of one of the greatest geniuses of his
age, of whom Sir William Temple, who was well acquaint¬
ed with him, writes with the greatest, esteem and admira¬
tion, observing, that when he was at the head of the go¬
vernment, he differed nothing in his manner of living
from an ordinary citizen. His office for the first ten years
brought him in little more than L.300, and in the latter
part of his life not above L.700, per annum. He refused
a gift of L.10,000 from the states-general, because he
thought it a bad precedent in the government. With great
reason, therefore, Sir William lemple, speaking of his
death, observes, “ He was a person that deserved another
fate, and a better return from his country, after eighteen
years spent in their ministry, without any caie of his en¬
tertainments or ease, and little of his fortune. A man of
unwearied industry, inflexible constancy, sound, clear,
and deep understanding, and untainted integrity; so that
whenever he was blinded, it was by the passion he had
for that which he esteemed the good and interest of the
state. This testimony is justly due to him from all that
were well acquainted with him, and is the more willingly
paid, since there can be as little interest to flatter as
honour to reproach the dead.”
Besides the work already mentioned, he wrote a book
containing those maxims of government upon which he
had acted, and which will be a never-fading monument to
his memory. A translation of it from the original Dutch,
entitled The true interest and political maxims of the re¬
public of Holland, was printed in London ; and to the last
edition are prefixed historical memoirs of the illustrious
brothers Cornelius and John de Wit, by Mr John Camp-
bell.
DEWSBURY, a town in the wapentake of Morley, in
the county of \ork, 187 miles from London. It is situat¬
ed on the river Calder, and was formerly more extensive
than it is at present. Large quantities of coarse woollen
goods are manufactured here. I he inhabitants amounted
in 1801 to 4566, in 1811 to 13,740, in 1821 to 16,261, and
in 1831 to 19,854.
DEXTANS, in Roman antiquity, ten ounces, or of
the libra. See Libra.
DEXTER, in Heraldry, an appellation given to what¬
ever belongs to the right side of a shield or coat of aims.
thus we say, bend-dexter, dexter-point, and the like.
DEXTROCHERE, or Destrochere, in Heraldry, is
applied to the right arm painted in a shield, sometimes
naked, sometimes clothed, or adorned with a bi acelet,
and sometimes armed, or holding a moveable member used
in the arms. .
DEY, the title of the sovereign of Algiers, under the
protection of the grand signior. Ihe sovereignty and the
Deynse
jjjoras
title have now ceased to exist, Algiers having become a
colony of France. . -p..11 .
DEYNSE, a city on the left bank of the Lys, in the rC
province of East Flanders, in the Netherlands. It contains
582 houses, with 2980 inhabitants, who conduct very nu¬
merous breweries and distilleries.
DEYRAH, a town of Northern Hindustan, in the pro¬
vince of Serinagur. It is populous and well built, and for¬
merly paid tribute to the Sikks, but is now subject to the
government of Nepaul. Long. 7 /. 45. E. Lat. 30. 19. N.
DEZPHOUL, a town of Persia, in the province of Ku-
sistan, situated on the eastern bank of the Abzal, in a
beautiful and spacious plain. Its only ornament is an ele¬
gant bridge, erected by the command of Sapor, a prince
celebrated both as the destroyer and the founder of cities.
This bridge is 450 paces in length, twenty in breadth, and
about forty in height. The piers are of large stones, and
the arches and upper parts of brick. The population is
nearly 15,000. It is twenty-eight miles west from Shuster.
DHENJEE, a town of Hindustan, situated at the ex¬
tremity of the Gujerat peninsula, and so difficult of ac¬
cess, owing to an almost impenetrable jungle, and rough
rocky ground, that the ruler has nearly withdrawn fiom
his allegiance. This place furnishes men to the piratical
vessels which prey upon the trade of the Indian seas, and
it receives a share of the plunder. A treaty was conclud¬
ed in 1807 with the chief, by which he agreed to relin¬
quish piracy
DHOOLPOOR, a town of Hindustan, in the province
of Agra. It is situated on the northern bank of the river
Chumbul, and is a considerable and flourishing town,
though it has been often exposed to the calamities of war.
In 1501 it was the capital of a Hindu chief, but was taken
by the Afghan sultan Sekunder Lody; it is now includ¬
ed in the British possessions. It is forty-two miles south-
south-west from Agra. Long. 77. 55. E. Lat. 26. 43. N.
DHROLE, a large and populous walled town, in the
Gujerat peninsula, situated near the Gulf of Cutch. The
adjacent ground is covered with gardens, and the town
completely concealed by trees, with a clear stream of water
running under it. . .
DHYRSA, a small village of Hindustan, in the Gujerat
peninsula, situated near the Runn, in the district of Moor-
nee, at the junction of two rivers, which fall into the Gulf
of Cutch. Long. 70. 55. E. Lat. 23. 20. N.
DIABETES, in Physic, a preternatural discharge of
urine, which having changed its properties, exceeds the
quantity of liquids drank.
DIABOLUS. See Devil. . . .
Diabolus Metallorum, a title given by chemists to jupi-
ter or tin, because, when incorporated with other metals,
it renders them incapable of reduction, or at least very
difficult to undergo that operation.
DIACAUSTIC Curve, a species of the caustic curves
formed by refraction.
DIACHYLON, in Pharmacy, an emollient digestive
plaster, composed of mucilages or viscid juices drawn
from certain plants.
DIACODIUM, in Pharmacy, a syrup prepared from
poppy heads. It is also called the syrupus de mecomo.
DIACOUSTICS, called also Diaphonics, the conside¬
ration of the properties of refracted sound, as it passes
through different media. The word is formed from the
Greek bia, through, which intimates a passage, and axouw,
I hear; the consideration of the passage of the sounds
which we hear. See Acoustics. __
DIACRII, in Antiquity, was the name of a party or tac¬
tion at Athens. That city was divided into two parties;
the one of which favoured an oligarchy, and the other
consisted of such as were for a democratical or popular
D I A
Eidem government, in which the whole people should have a
II share. The first were called diacrii, and the latter pe-
diaci; because the one inhabited the lower, and the other
the c«£oy or upper part of the city. The laws of Solon
imported, that Peisistratus should be the chief of the
diacrii; though the scholiast on Aristophanes’s comedy of
The Wasps affirms that Pandion distributed the quarter of
the diacrii among his sons, and put Lycus at their head.
DIADEM, in Antiquity, a head-band or fillet, worn by
kings as a badge of their royalty. It was made of silk,
thread, or wool, and fastened round the temples and fore¬
head, the ends being tied behind, and let fall on the neck.
It was usually white and quite plain, though sometimes
embroidered with gold, and set with pearls and precious
stones. In latter times it came to be twisted round crowns,
laurels, &c. and even appears to have been worn on various
parts of the body. See Crown. The word comes from
the Latin diadema, identical with the Greek diadripu, a
little band encompassing the head, and derived from the
verb diadfca, cingo, I gird.
Diadem, in Heraldry, is applied to certain circles or
rims serving to inclose the crowns of sovereign princes,
and to bear the globe and cross, or the fleur de lis, for
their crest. The crowns of sovereigns are bound, some
with a greater and some with a less number of diadems.
The bandage about the heads of Moors on shields is also
called diadem in blazoning.
DIADIN, or Diadem, a town of Turkish Armenia, si¬
tuated on an eastern branch of the Euphrates, which is
here not above twenty feet broad, and very shallow. The
houses are built of wood and stones, and, with the excep¬
tion of one apartment, afford shelter to cattle as well as
men. It has a citadel fortified with towers, in which the
governor resides. Near it is a large monastery of the Ar¬
menians, which is sometimes attacked by predatory bands,
who also occasionally assail the town. It contains 600
houses, and is seventy-two miles south-south-west of Eri-
van, and 140 south-south-east of Erzerum.
DIAERESIS, in Grammar, the division of one syllable
into two, which is usually noted by two points over a let¬
ter, as auldi, instead of aulce, dissoluenda for dissolvenda.
DLLTElhL, in Grecian antiquity, a kind of judges, of
which there were two sorts ; the cleroti and diallacterii.
The former were public arbitrators, chosen by lot to deter¬
mine all causes exceeding ten drachms within their own
tribe; and from their sentence an appeal lay to the supe¬
rior courts. But the latter, on the contrary, were private
arbitrators, from whose sentence there lay no appeal; and
accordingly they always took an oath to administer justice
without partiality.
DIAGLYPHICE, the art of cutting or engraving figures
on metals, such as seals, intaglios, matrices of letters, and
the like, or coins for medals.
DIAGNOSIS (from biayvMxu, to discern or distinguish),
the diagnostics or the signs of a disease. They are of
two kinds, namely, the adjunct and the pathognomonic ; the
former being common to several diseases, serve only to
point out the difference between diseases of the same
species; but the latter being those which always attend
the disease, distinguish it from all others.
DIAGNOSTIC, in Medicine, a term given to those signs
which indicate the present state of a disease, with its na¬
ture and cause.
DIAGONAL, in Geometry, a right line drawn across a
quadrilateral figure, from one angle to another; by some
called the diameter, by others the diametral, of the figure.
DIAGORAS, surnamed the Atheist, lived in the 91st
Olympiad. He was not a native of Athens, but he phi¬
losophised in that city. He delighted in making verses ;
and having composed a poem which a certain poet stole
D i A 755
from him, he sued the thief; but the latter swore it was Diagram
his own composition, and got credit by the work. This II
tempted Diagoras to deny a Providence; and the Athe- Dialectics,
nians summoned him to give an account of his doctrine.
He fled, and they set a price upon his head, promising a
reward to any one who should kill him ; but he took ship¬
ping, and was cast away.
DIAGRAM, in Geometry, a scheme for explaining and
demonstrating the properties of any figure, whether tri¬
angle, square, circle, or other.
Diagram, among ancient musicians, the same with the
scale of the modern.
DIAH, Diat, a name given by the Arabs to the pu¬
nishment of retaliation. By the Mahommedan law, a bro¬
ther, or the next relation of a murdered person, ought to
take part against the murderer, and demand his blood in
reparation for that which he has shed. Before the time
of Mahommed, the Arabs had a custom of putting a free¬
man of their prisoners to death in lieu of every slave they
lost in battle, and a man for every woman who was killed.
But Mahommed regulated the laws of reprisal, directing
in the Koran, that by the diat a freeman should be re¬
quired for a freeman, and a slave for a slave. The Turks,
probably in consequence of this law, formerly massacred
almost all their prisoners of war, but they now content
themselves with enslaving and selling them.
DIAHEXAPLA, or Diahexapte, among farriers, a
compound medicine, so called from its containing six in¬
gredients, namely, birthwort and gentian roots, juniper-
berries, bay-berries, myrrh, and ivory shavings. It is
commended for colds, consumptions, pursiness, and many
other disorders in horses.
DIAKOVAR, a market-town of the Austrian Sclavonic
province of Siebenbergen. It is the seat of a Catholic
bishop and seminary. There is, besides the cathedral, a
large Franciscan convent. The population is about 3000.
Long. 18. 2. 14. E. Lat. 45. 31. 9. N.
DIAL, an instrument serving to measure time, which,
if effected by the aid of the sun, is called a sun-dial. The
word is from the Latin dies, day, because it indicates the
hour of the day. The ancients also called it skiatherium,
from its effect by the shadow. See Dialling.
DIALA, a river of Kurdistan, which rises a few miles
north of Sherazur, in the mountains behind Salymania. It
is mentioned in ancient history under the name of Delos
and Arba. Taking a southerly course, it receives the tri¬
bute of a vast number of smaller streams, and unites with
another river equal in size, which has its source at the
foot of the Pass of Kurren. It now becomes a fine river,
still continues its course to the south, and enters the
Tigris about ten miles below Bagdad. It is 150 yards
wide where it approaches the Tigris, and has a bridge of
boats thrown across it for the convenience of travellers.
It is fordable in the summer at Bakooba, about nine miles
from Bagdad.
DIALECT, an appellation given to the language of a
province, in so far as it differs from that of the whole king¬
dom. The term, however, is more particularly used in
speaking of the ancient Greek, of which there were four
dialects, the Attic,' Ionic, iEolic, and Doric, each of which
was a perfect language in its kind, was used in certain
countries, and possessed peculiar beauties.
In Great Britain, besides the grand diversity of Eng¬
lish and Scotch, almost every county has a dialect of its
own, all differing considerably in pronunciation, accent,
and tone, although one and the same language.
DIALECTICS, in the literary history of the ancients,
that branch of logic which taught the rules and modes of
reasoning. See Logic.
Zeno Eleates was the first who discovered the natural
756
D I A
D I A
Dialectics series of principles and conclusions observed in reasoning,
II and formed a system of these in form of a dialogue, which
Dialling. por ^jg reason was called dialectica.
The dialectica of the ancients is usually divided into
several kinds. The first was the eleatica, or that of Zeno
Eleates, which was threefold, namely, consecutionum, collo-
quutionum, and contentionum. The first branch consisted
of rules for deducing or drawing conclusions. The second
embraced the art of dialogue, which became of such uni¬
versal use in philosophy that all reasoning was called in¬
terrogation ; when syllogism was laid aside, the philoso¬
phers did all by dialogue, it being incumbent on the re¬
spondent to conclude and argue from the several conces¬
sions made. The last part of Zeno s dialectics, Eg/tfr/xjj, tvas
contentious, or the art of disputing and contiadicting,
though some, particularly Laertius, ascribe this part to
Protagoras, a disciple of Zeno.
The second kind is the dialectica megarica^ the author
of which is Euclid, not the mathematician, but another
of Megara. He chiefly followed the method of Zeno and
Protagoras, though there are two things appropriated to
him ; the first, that he impugned the demonstrations of
others, not by assumptions, but conclusions, proceeding
from consequence to consequence ; and the second, that
he set aside as invalid all arguments drawn from com¬
parisons of similitude.
He was succeeded by Eubulides, from whom the so*
phistic mode of reasoning is said to be derived. In his
time the art is described as manifold ; mentions, fallens,
electra, obvelata, arcevalis, cornuta, and calva.
The third is the dialectics of Plato, which he proposes
as a kind of analysis, in order to direct the human mind,
by dividing, defining, and bringing things to the simplest
form; where having arrived, and stopped a little, it ap¬
plies itself to explain sensible things, but with a view to
return to the first truth, where alone it can rest. Such
is the idea of Plato’s analysis.
The fourth is Aristotle’s dialectics, containing the doc¬
trine of simple words, delivered in his book of Praedica-
ments; the doctrine of propositions, contained in his book
De Interpretatione ; and that of the several kinds of syllo¬
gism, explained in his books of Analytics, iopics, and
Elenchuses.
The fifth is the dialectics of the Stoics, which they call
a part of philosophy, and divide into rhetoric and dialec¬
tic, to which some add the definitive, by which things are
justly defined; comprehending likewise the canons or cri- Dialia
terions of truth. _ ||
The Stoics, before they come to treat of syllogisms, ^alling.
consider two principal topics ; the one about the significa-
tion of words, the other about the things signified. In
reference to the former, they consider abundance of things
belonging to the grammarian’s province ; as what, and how
many letters, what is a word, diction, speech, &c. And, in
reference to the latter, they consider things themselves,
not as without the mind, but as in it, or received in it by
means of the senses. Accordingly, they first teach, that
nihil sit in intellectu, quod non prim fuerit in sensu, what¬
ever is in the mind came thither by the senses; and that
aut incursione sui, as Plato, who meets the sight, aut simi-
litudine, as Caesar by his effigy, aut proportiotie, either by
enlarging as a giant, or by diminishing as a pigmy, aut
translatione, as a Cyclops, aut compositione, as a Centaur,
aut contrario, as death, aut privatione, as a blind man.
The sixth is the dialectic of Epicurus, who, though he af¬
fected to despise it, yet cultivated it with vigour. He was
only averse to that of the Stoics, who he thought attribut¬
ed too much to it, in pronouncing him alone wise who was
well versed in dialectics. For this reason Epicurus, though
he appeared to set aside the common dialectics, had re¬
course to another way, namely, to certain canons, which
he substituted in their stead ; and as all questions in philo¬
sophy are either de re or de voce, he gave separate rules
for each.
DIALIA, in Antiquity, sacrifices performed by the fla-
men dialis. See Flamen.
DIALITHA, in the writings of the ancients, a word
used to express the elegant ornaments of the Greeks and
Romans, composed of gold and gems. They also called
these lithocolla, cemented stones or gems ; the gold being
in this case as a cement to hold the stones together. They
wore bracelets and other ornamental articles thus made
about their habits ; and their cups and table-furniture, for
magnificent feasts, were of this kind. The green stones
were found to succeed best; and the emerald and green¬
ish topaz, or, as we call it, chrysolite, were most in esteem
for this purpose. Such a use of stones explains what
Pliny very often says of them in his description: Nihil
jucundius aurum decet, nothing becomes gold better. This
he says of the green topaz or chrysolite; and the ex¬
pression has greatly perplexed the critics, who did not
hit upon the true explanation.
D I A L L I N G.
Dialling, sometimes called Gnomonics, is a branch of
the mixed mathematics, which treats of the construction
of sun-dials. Its foundation is the astronomical theory of
the sun’s apparent motions; and from these its rules and
operations have been deduced by the aid of geometry and
trigonometry.
It may be supposed that in the early ages men would
be satisfied with the divisions of the day marked by the
rising and setting of the sun, and his greatest elevation
above the horizon. When the gnomon, an upright pillar,
the first of all astronomical instruments, had been applied
to astronomy, the angular motion of its shadow might sug¬
gest that it was applicable to the division of the day.
The earliest mention that is made of a sun-dial is in
the Bible. We read in the thirty-second chapter of Second
Chronicles, that when Hezekiah was sick, he prayed to the
Lord, and “ He gave him a sign what that sign was is par¬
ticularly told in Isaiah, chap, xxxviii. verse 8, “ Behold I
will bring again the shadow of the degrees which is gone
down in the sun-dial of Ahaz ten degrees backward. So the
sun returned ten degrees, by which degrees it was gone
down.” This was about 700 years before the Christian era.
The Chaldeans, among the earliest astronomers, as
well as the other nations of Asia, divided the day into
sixty parts. They had also a division of the day into
twelve hours. The earliest of all sun-dials of which we
have any certain knowledge was the Hemicycle or Hemi¬
sphere of their astronomer Berosus, who probably lived
about 540 years b. c. This was the most simple and na¬
tural of all sun-dials, and therefore must have preceded
the others. It has been the most generally used, but
it could never be of any considerable dimensions, and was
not susceptible of much accuracy. It, however, requir¬
ed no mathematical theory for its construction; a dis¬
tinct notion of the spherical motion of the heavens was
sufficient. To understand this dial, let us suppose a con¬
cave hemisphere, placed horizontally in an open place,
with the concavity turned towards the zenith, and let a
filling, globule be suspended or fixed in any way at its centre •
when the sun’s centre rises above the horizon the shadow
of the globule will enter the hemisphere, and throughout
the day the shadow will trace on its inside the sun’s diurnal
parallel. Now, let the lines described by the shadow on the
solstitial and equinoctial days be traced on the inside of
the sphere, and also on as many intermediate days as
may be, but in fact the tropical paths of the shadow will
be sufficient; let each of these be divided into twelve
equal parts, and let curve lines be drawn through cor¬
responding points of division. These will be sensibly
great circles on the inside of the hemisphere, and will two
and two converge towards points in the meridian more or
less distant. Here then is a sun-dial which will divide
the period between sunrise and sunset into twelve por¬
tions, called temporary hours. The hours indicated by
this dial were from its nature unequal, and varied from day
to day. This defect, however, was not of much conse¬
quence when there were no machines for dividing time:
a knowledge of geometry would have served to construct
the dial so as to divide time equally, but at that remote
period geometry was not known as a science.
The difference between the equinoctial hours, which
were equal, and the unequal temporary hours, might not be
atfirst observed, or might have been disregarded byapeople
who inhabited a climate where the elevation of the pole
was small, and who, besides, attended only to the rising
and setting of the sun, and, it may be, his passing the meri¬
dian, which at all times divided the day into parts nearly
equal. They probably first divided each half of the day, as
well as they could by estimation, into three equal parts, and
these again each into two. The dial of Berosus, although
imperfect, was a great step towards improvement in the divi¬
sion of time, and was not at variance with the conjectural
divisions, because in both ways the twelve hours had the
same bounding limits, the rising and setting of the sun.
It would have been easy to have passed from the tem¬
porary to equal hours, which were marked by equal arcs
on the equator; it was only necessary to describe semi¬
circles through these points of division which should cut
each other in the poles of the world: these would have
divided the parallels into arcs of fifteen degrees each: by
carrying the divisions into fifteen degrees upon the sum¬
mer tropic from the six o’clock hour circle to sunrise and
sunset, there would have been got the excess of the
longest above the equinoctial day. Thus a more exact no¬
tion of the length of the day and night at all seasons would
have been obtained. But this would have appeared a
great innovation, and not likely to have been adopted:
every one knows how obstinate the common people are in
adhering to old habits. Accordingly the construction of
Berosus descended beyond the time of Hipparchus and
Ptolemy. We find it in the year 900 among the Arabians,
who followed it in the construction of their dials, as ap¬
pears from the work of Albategnius ; and it is only since
the invention of mechanical instruments for dividing time
that it has altogether disappeared.
It is doubtful whether the Chaldeans had any mathe¬
matical theory for their dial, although it was of great sim¬
plicity. The facility, however, of its construction has
probably made it the best known. Four have, in modern
times, been recovered in Italy. One was discovered in the
year 1746, at Tivoli. Ithas been supposed that thisbelonged
to Cicero, who in one of his letters says that he had sent a
dial of this kind to his villa near Tusculum. P. Zuzzeri,
a Jesuit, has made this dial the subject of a memoir pub¬
lished at Venice. The second and third were found in
1751; one at Castel-Nuovo, and the other at Rignano ; and
a fourth was found in 1762 at Pompeii. It differs from the
others in respect that the tropics are not expressly marked,
and the equator alone is seen. G. H. Martini, the author
ot a dissertation, in the German language, on the Dials of
the Ancients, supposes this last to be the oldest of the
four, and that it is probably the primitive dial, such as was
known to Berosus. Delambre, however, in his Histoire de
l Astronomic Ancienne, expresses himself of a contrary
opinion, because it was more difficult to construct such a
dia without than with the tropics. Martini says that the
dial was made for the latitude of Memphis; it may there¬
fore be the work of Egyptians, if it was not constructed
in the school of Alexandria. It may be ascribed to the
however, without attributing to them much
knowledge in geometry ; a terrestrial globe, on which were
traced the equator and tropics, divided into degrees, and
with its pole elevated to the latitude of the place, was all
that was necessary. This being cut into two hemispheres
horizontally, and great circles traced through the corre¬
sponding points of the two tropics, would furnish two con¬
vex models of the dial, from which any number of concave
ones might easily be formed. The convex spherical model
might even have had the parts cut away which were not
to be shown on the concavity, and thus the construction
of the dial might be a purely manual operation performed
by an artist.
W hen the first dial was constructed, it was easy from
that to make others. Thus, by the side of a Chaldean dial
let a plane be fixed in any position, with a perpendicular
gnomon ; mark on the plane the position of the top of the
shadow from hour to hour on the solstitial and equinoctial
days, and join the corresponding horary points by lines,
and it will appear that the three analogous points are
always in a straight line; and thus there might be form¬
ed, without any theory, temporary dials of all kinds.
It may be supposed that every nation that cultivated
astronomy had found means to divide time. It appears
that the Egyptians had found in the heavens the means
of attaining this object, but no sun-dial has been found
among the antiquities of Egypt, and their sculptures give
no indication of any having existed; they may, however,
be buried in the sands, or overwhelmed in the midst of
the vast ruins of their cities. It has been supposed that
the numerous obelisks found everywhere in Egypt were
erected in honour of the sun, and'employed as gnomons.
The famous circle of Osymandias might have determined
the azimuths of the heavenly bodies, and thus have given
the hours of the day or night.
Herodotus has recorded that the Greeks derived from
the Babylonians the use of the pole and of the gnomon,
and the division of the day into twelve parts: the pole
was an instrument that showed the hour of the day. The
Greeks by their geometry were in full possession of the
means of constructing dials; and the Syntaxis of Ptolemy
treats of their construction by means of his Analemma, an
instrument by which the various problems of astronomy
might be resolved.
The dials of the ancients marked the hour of the day by
the shadow of a gnomon, but they had neither centres nor
axes, and in some respects this was an advantage. The
nature of their hours, which varied with the season, made
it necessary to give such directions to the horary lines as
prevented them from meeting in a point; they therefore
were satisfied with finding the position of three points in
each, although two would have been sufficient, for the
lines were sensibly straight in all plane dials; the diurnal
paths of the extremity of the shadow were hyperbolas,
which intersected the horizon in the points of rising and
setting, and of these there might be any number, but in
general they were limited to the arcs of Cancer and Ca¬
pricorn ; the line for Aries and Libra was always straight,
and furnished a middle point in the hour line.
758 DIALLING.
Dialling. The constructions given by Ptolemy were sufficient for same style. There appear only two evening and two Dialling
regular dials, the only ones he treats of. It is certain, how- morning lines; and these, instead of being horary, arerr^
ever, that the ancients constructed vertical declining dials, truly azimuthal; they only indicate the direction of the
for ei^ht are yet in existence on the Tower of the Winds shadow. I wo of these four lines are even a little too
* at Athens. Probably a part of the book of the Analemma long, because that, instead of the hyperbolic arc, which
is now lost, otherwise it would be remarkable that after should limit them, a straight line has been drawn. These
Ptolemy had announced, in commencing, that he proposed slight defects are of no real importance. _
to facilitate the construction of dials, he should not say a The east dial is as exact as the south. It is very nar-
single word on the applications which may be made of his row, although it has a style double the length, almost
obscure methods and graphical operations, the object of nineteen and a fifth inches. The south-east presents the
which can hardly be seen, or the principles understood. same agreement in all its parts. I he height of the style
The ancient hours were called hectemoria by the Greeks, is about twenty-five and a half inches. I he inclination of
because they were sixth parts of the semidiurnal arc. It the equinoctial to the horizontal line is 42° 4(y, such as
does not appear that the nature of the hectemorial hour calculation makes it.
lines was ever considered by the ancients; indeed, practi- The north-east dial does not appear to have been traced
cally their precise nature was of little importance to them, with so much care, or at least success ; the style is only
and of no use in tracing their dials. On the sphere, when about six and a half inches. The horary lines, three in num-
the pole is not considerably elevated, the lines which di- ber, are very oblique. The artist, however, may be excus-
vide the semidiurnal arcs into equal parts differ not much ed, because the least error in the graphical operations might
in appearance from arcs of great circles, as has already alter sensibly their length. Besides, this dial is the least
been remarked • and that they are not exactly so was important of them all; there is nothing which cannot be
first suggested by Clavius. Delambre has treated of them determined with more certainty on some one of the neigh-
in his History of Astronomy, and in the Connoissance des bouring dials. The three remaining dials, viz. the south-
Temps for 1820. Mr Cadell has treated the subject at west, the west, and the north-west, are merely the coun¬
considerable length in the eighth volume of the Transac- terparts of their opposite, and have not been figured in
tions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, and, again, Mr Stuart’s book. The whole give the same general view of
Davis in the twelfth volume of the same work. the ancient gnomomcs as had been previously acquired by
The most interesting monument of ancient gnomonics an examination of a dial found at Delos, and described by
is the Tower of the Winds, which is yet in existence, and Delambre in the class of mathematical sciences of the In¬
is figured and described by Stuart in his Antiquities of stitute for 1814. They are however larger and better
Athens. This is a regular octagon, on the faces of which executed than that dial, and in their original position. Al-
the eight principal winds are represented, and over them together they form the most complete monument of the
are eight different dials; four regular, viz. east, west, practical gnomonics of the ancients.
north and south ; the other four have the intermediate There is another remarkable combination of dials in
directions. Vitruvius has described the Tower in the Athens, known by the name of the dials of Phaedrus.
sixth chapter of his first book; but he has not said any They are four in number, and are traced on the same
thing of the dials. This is remarkable, because he has block of pentelique marble. It bears the following inscnp-
described all the dials known in his time, and these are in tion: tpuidgog tfcauvisvg itfoisi. From the form of the
every way more important than those ofwhich he has men- letters, M. Visconti, who communicated the designs of
tioned the inventors. His silence gives reason to believe these dials to Delambre, has inferred that the monument
that the dials on the Tower have been an after thought, and may be of the second or third century of our era. Delam-
are of a date later than his time, and much posterior to bre described and carefully verified all the parts of these
that of Andronicus Cyrresthes, author of the monument, dials (Hist, de l Astron. An., vol. ii.), and everywhere he
It is impossible to say any thing with precision as to the found, if not all the conformity which he desired, at least
time when these eight dials were erected. From the im- as much as he could expect. The dials by themselves
paired purity of style in the architecture of the Tower, it confirm what is manifest from those on the Tower of the
has been judged to be later than the time of Pericles and Winds, that the Greeks had geometrical methods for ver-
Anaxao-oras.0 In their day the science of gnomonics was tical, and also for declining dials, lo the ancient dials
too little advanced to have served for the construction of which have been here noticed we may add a singular one
the dials; however, as far as mathematical science was found at Portici in ]?55, and described by the academi-
required, they might have been made in the time of Hip- cians of Naples. It has the figure of a bacon ham, and,
parchus, or later. It is certain they must have required a like all the others, shows temporary hours. The theory
science of gnomonics, and therefore a trigonometry, un- of this dial is simple, but, considering the imperfect tngo-
less they were made empirically by the help of the con- nometry of the Greeks, its construction by calculation
cave hemisphere of Berosus. might be laborious; probably it was made by the sunple
These dials, as described by Stuart, have the forms of process, already described, from the Chaldean dial Ihe
those in tlie commentary given by Commandine on the epoch of this dial is not known, nor is any dial of this kind
Analemma of Ptolemy ; everywhere the style is wanting, noticed by Vitruvius, to whom we owe all the knowledge we
but the hole in which it had been inserted is visible in the have of other ancient dials. Vitruvius has attributed to
marble. Its vertex is rarely in the axis of the hole, Berosus the hemicycle holloMred in a square cut according
even in the regular dials, which are four in number. How- to the inclination of the place (a description which De-
ever, the height and the foot of the style are not indispen- lambre says is incorrect). He has added, that Aristarchus
sable data ; they may be discovered from the principal di- of Samos invented the horologium called scaphe (boat), or
mensions of the dial. By a careful examination, Delambre the hemisphere. This may have been the hemisphere of
ascertained that the south dial, the most important, was Berosus which Aristarchus taught the Greeks. He attn-
remarkably accurate, and that the height of the style was butes also to him the disk in a plane. This may have been
ten and*a half English inches. The hours are not num- an equinoctial or a horizontal dial; these the Greeks could
bered, but they are temporary, and reckoned from sunrise execute graphically without calculation. Vitruvius gives
to noon, and thence to sunset. The north dial is but a precepts for the construction of this dial, which are not,
supplement of the south, on the same scale, and with the however, very intelligible now. He goes on to say, that
dial
I;fling, the amnea is due to Eudoxus, or, according to others, to
v-.r'-' Apollonius. This appears to have been a horizontal dial
on which circles of altitude were traced. Scopas of Syra¬
cuse invented the plinth or lambris, and he assigns to
Parmenion the invention of an universal dial; and he goes
on to speak of many ethers, the nature of which can only
now be guessed. He indicates dials of suspension intend¬
ed for travellers; these may have been like our ring-dials,
but he does not explain them particularly. In concluding'
he says that, to comprehend the theory of dials, it was ne¬
cessary to know that of the Analemma.
The hist sun-dial erected at Home was in the year 290
B. c. Papirius Cursor had taken it from the Samnites. In
261 b. c. Valerius Messala placed in the forum a dial
which he had taken at Catania, the latitude of which is
five degrees less than that of Rome. In 164, Q. Marcius
Philippus caused the first dial to be constructed ; it was
probably the work of a foreign artist, for no Roman has
written any thing on gnomonics. We have seen that the dial
found at Pompeia was made for the latitude of Memphis,
consequently it was less adapted to its position than that
of Catania was to Rome. These facts prove that mathe¬
matical knowledge was not cultivated at Rome or in Italy.
It appears that sun-dials had been common in the days
of Plautus. In a fragment of one of his comedies ( The
Boeotian) preserved by Aulus Gellius in his Attic Nights,
he makes a parasite declaim against sun-dials in these
terms:
Ut ilium di perdant, primus qui boras repperit,
Quique adeo primus statuit hie solarium.
Q,ui mihi comminuit misero articulatim diem,
Nam me puero uterus erat solarium
Multo omnium istorum et verissimum,
Ubi iste monebat esse, nisi quum nihil erat.
Nunc etiam quod est, non est, nisi Soli lubet.
Itaque adeo jam oppletum est oppidum solariis.
Major pars populi aridi raptant fame.
The gods confound the man who first found out
How to distinguish hours ! Confound him, too,
Who in this place set up a sun-dial,
To cut and hack my days so wretchedly
Into small portions. When I was a boy,
My belly was my sun-dial; one more sure,
Truer, and more exact than any of them.
This dial told me when ’twas proper time
To go to dinner, when I had aught to eat.
But now-a-days, why, even when I have,
I can’t fall-to unless the sun give leave.
The town’s so full of these confounded dials,
The greatest part of its inhabitants,
Shrunk up with hunger, creep along the streets.
Translation of Plautus by Thornton and Warner.
The Arabians, as they drew their knowledge of astrono¬
my from the Greeks, so they also adopted their system of
gnomonics without any material alteration. They studied
the Analemma of Ptolemy, and found means of simplifying
and diversifying his solutions. No nation attached more
importance to gnomonics. Indeed, when there was no
other way of knowing the hours, dials were in great re¬
quest, particularly in southern climes; for in northern
countries the shortness of the day for a great part of the
year, and the uncertainty of sunshine, diminished much
their utility. Abul-Hassan, who lived about the begin¬
ning of the thirteenth century, and one of their most mo¬
dern writers, introduced among them equal hours, and
taught how to trace them on dials; but he made but little
use of them, and it does not appear that his invention
was supported. He was also the author of a new way of
describing the arcs of parallels. He invented a dial call¬
ed khaphir, a word which means the hoof of a horse; the
Greeks had no such dial. He made various others, to
which particular names were given. He taught how to
ling. 759
trace the progress of the shadow on plane, cylindrical, Dialling,
conic, and spherical surfaces. The Greeks, however, had
preceded him in the construction of dials on conic sur¬
faces.
I he writings of Abul-Hassan present a theory not to
be found in the gnomonics ol the Greeks, or any other
Arabian writer, or in that of the moderns. He employed
the properties of the conic sections to describe the arc of
signs. It is ti ue, Commandine and Clavius have also traced
their arcs of signs by means deduced from the theory of
these curves; but their mode of proceeding, very obscure,
is not that of the Arabian. We do not find among them
the universal dial of Regiomontanus, nor the analemmatic
dials, which give the hour by the sun’s altitude; nor had
they any idea of the angles at the centre of different dials.
We find these angles and different other novelties in the
first European authors who have written on gnomonics;
but these geometers do not say that they were the inven¬
tors of these happy innovations. There is therefore in the
history of gnomonics a blank which cannot now be filled
up. We see a marked progress, without knowing precise¬
ly to whom we owe the obligation. These discoveries pro¬
bably preceded the invention of printing. The original
works are lost, but tradition has handed down to us what
was most useful in them. The oldest of these writers,
Munster and Schoner, have affected to imitate the Arabs,
in suppressing all demonstrations, as had been done by
Albategnius and Ebn-Jounis. They have given construc¬
tions resting on principles nowhere demonstrated, and
hence has arisen an obscurity not easily to be dissipated.
Among the first of the moderns who have treated of
gnomonics may be reckoned John Stabius, Andrew Stri-
borius, and John Werner, astronomers of the fifteenth cen¬
tury. Their works however have never been printed. To
these may be added John Schoner, an astronomer of the
sixteenth century, who gave in 1515 a work entitled ffo-
rarii cylindri Canones, in which he treats of the construc¬
tion of cylindrical dials. His other works on dialling were
afterwards published by Andrew Schoner, his son. Some
notions on modern gnomonics were given in a treatise on
the Roman calendar, printed in 1518. This writer treats
of a general horary square, after Regiomontanus, which
supposes equal hours; so that these appear to have been
established in the middle of the fifteenth century, and
probably earlier. It appears from Stoffler, that in his time
a new system of gnomonics had been formed, the author
of which however is unknown.
Sebastian Munster, a cordelier, who had embraced the
opinions of Luther, published at Basle, in 1531, a work with
this title, Compositio Horologiorum in piano micro, truncis,
anulo concavo cylindro, et variis qicadrantibus, &c.; and
again, in 1533, Horologiographia post priorem editionem.
The author was born at Ingelheim in 1489, and died of the
plague at Basle in 1532. He employs equinoctial hours,
and supposes great circles to pass through the pole of the
world perpendicular to the equator, dividing it into twenty-
four equal parts. A plane which cuts all these circles shows
the hours by its intersection with the different planes.
Here then is a complete revolution in the theory of dial¬
ling; and doubtless the change had subsisted for some
time; for he speaks with contempt of these vulgar con¬
structors who, without any theory, blindly followed the
rules and tables which had been given to them. It is
very remarkable that so total a change should have taken
place without the author being known; and not less so
that the first author who printed a book on gnomonics
should have given all his precepts without demonstration.
Equinoctial hours were now substituted for temporary
hours, a centre was given to the dial, an axis was substi¬
tuted for the perpendicular style; centres and dividing
760 DIAL
Dialling, radii were now introduced; all these changes could only
have been made by a skilful geometer. Among the in¬
ventions of Munster was a moon-dial. It is not certain
that he was the author of all the inventions which he de¬
scribes, but at any rate he was the first to publish them.
The next writer to be noticed was Andrew Schoner.
His book has the date 1562, with this title: Gnomonice
Andrece Schoneri Noribergensis, hoc est de descriptionibus
horologiorum sciatericorum omnis generis, &c. omnia recens
nata et edita. By the concluding words, the author seems
to assert that all contained in his book was his own in¬
vention. This, however, could not be true ol any thing
contained also in the first or second edition of Munster s
book, which preceded his by twenty-nine years. Schoner
speaks of many learned men that had gone before him in
the same science, and regrets that their labours were un¬
known. He cites Regiomontanus and others, but he does
not name Munster. He was an enthusiast on his particu¬
lar subject, and affirmed that dials could no more be dis¬
pensed with than meat and drink. He was an obscure
writer, and communicated nothing new, unless in treating
of inclining-declining dials, of which no mention is made
by Munster, nor among the ancients. In the same cen¬
tury there came out other treatises on dialling, as by Be¬
nedict in 1574), Elie Vinet in 1564, John of Padua in
1582, and Valentino Pini in 1598. These do not seem to
have added much to what was previously known.
In the following century we have a work on dialling by
an astronomer, La Hire. The first edition came out in
1682, another in 1698. Montucla pronounces this book
obscure, and Delambre agrees in his opinion; for La Hire
merely indicates his demonstrations, and his constructions
are so complicated that they are with difficulty under¬
stood. He never employs calculation, unless indeed in
an appendix, which might be left out, without altering
the character of the work. All his operations may be
performed without any idea of even plane trigonometry.
He employs only compasses, the rule, and the plumb-line.
A dial may be traced by his directions, without knowing
whether it be horizontal, vertical, east, west, declining, or
inclining, and without the latitude of the place or the sun’s
declination being known. This plan is not the best for prac¬
tice ; but it was new, and therefore remarkable and deserv-
ingof notice. His constructions are often ingenious; but they
have the essential fault of not admitting of much accuracy.
There is a treatise on gnomonicsby Ozanam, of datel693.
It also forms a part of his Cours de Mathematiques, printed in
1697. This, in the opinion of Delambre, is a perspicuous
work, and much superior for practice to that of La Hire.
The subject of dialling was greatly agitated in the course
of the seventeenth century by all writers on astronomy.
Thus a quarto volume of 800 pages, entirely on gnomonics,
forms a part of the works of Clavius, printed in 1612.
This may be supposed to contain all that was known be¬
fore his time, as well as his own inventions. In this work
he has demonstrated both the theory and practice, after
the manner of the ancient mathematicians.
The eighteenth century produced some writers on dial¬
ling ; but clocks and watches had by this time superseded
sun-dials: their theory was well known and explained in
all works on astronomy. The art of constructing them
was now considered as a mathematical recreation. At this
point we shall conclude their history.
The principal writers on dials and dialling are the fol¬
lowing :—Ptolemy, restoration of his wTork on the Analem-
ma, by Commandine ; Vitruvius, in his Architecture ; Sebas¬
tian Munster, in his Horologiographia ; Orontius Fineus,
De Horologiis Solaribus, &c.; Mutio Oddi da Urbino, Gli
Horologi Solari nelle Superjicie Piane; Dryander, De
Horologiorum varia Compositions ; Conrad Gesner’s Pan-
L I N G.
dectce; Andrew Schoner’s Gnomonicce; F. Commandine, Dialling. J
De Horologiorum Descriptione; Joan. Bapt. Benedictus,
De Gnomonum Umbrarum Solarium Usu ; Joannes Geor¬
gius Schomberg, ExegesisFundamentorum Gnomonicorum ;
Solomon de Caus, Trade de Horologes Solaires; Joan.
Bapt. Trolta, Praxis Horologiorum ; Desargues, Maniere
Universellepour poser VEssieu et placer les Heures et autres
Choses au Cadrans Solaires; Ath. Kircher, Ars magna
Lucis et Umbra ; Hallum, Explicatio Horologii in Horto
Regio Londini; Joan. Mark, Tractatus Horologionm;
Clavius, Gnomonices de Horologiis ; the treatises of Des-
chales, Ozanam, Schottus, Wolfius (in his Elementa),
Picard, Lahire, Walper, with additions by Sturnius, &c.
In the German language there are treatises by Paterson,
Michael, and Muller. Of English writers there are, Fos¬
ter, Horolographia (in his works) ; Wells, The Art of Sha¬
dows; Collins, Leadbetter, Jones, Leybourn, and others.
At a later period we have treatises by Emerson, by Fer¬
guson in his Lectures, and others.
The theory of dialling has sometimes been treated as a
branch of perspective, as by sGravesand in Essai de Per¬
spective, and Dr Horsley in his Tracts on the Projection of
the Sphere; also, as a branch of analysis, by Ksestner in
his Gnomonica Universalis Analytica ; by MM. Sejour and
Godin, in Recherches Gnomoniques, &c. Lastly, it has been
referred to descriptive geometry, by Hachette, Cours de
Geometric Descriptive. Lefran^ois, Journal dEcole Poly¬
technique, 2d cahier. Delambre has treated of the sub¬
ject in different parts of his Histoire de VAstronomie, and in
his Astronomie Theorique et Pratique. Biot has added a
tract on it by Berroyer to his Astronomie Physique.
General Principles of Dialling.
1. The theory of dialling, to be fully understood, re¬
quires an acquaintance with some of the more simple doc¬
trines of astronomy; also of the elements of geometry and
plane and spherical trigonometry. However, a less exten¬
sive knowledge of pure mathematics will be sufficient for
the construction of the more simple and common dials. A
correct notion of the nature of an angle, and a knowledge
of the elementary problems of practical geometry, viz. the
drawing of parallels, perpendiculars, &c., and how to make
an angle of any proposed number of degrees, also to
measure an angle, will suffice for the mere geometrical
construction of dials. The instruments required are com¬
passes, a scale of chords, or a protractor for measuring
angles, and a straight-edged rule. A globe is useful in
giving distinct notions of the doctrine of the sphere, but
may be dispensed with in the practice of dialling. A dial¬
ling scale facilitates the practice; and therefore instruc¬
tions will be given by which it may be constructed.
2. The preliminary astronomical knowledge has been
delivered in the article Astronomy. To avoid repetition,
we must direct the attention of the reader to that article.
He will find it in the first and second chapters of the Se¬
cond Part; but it is only the definition of the circles of the
sphere, and the description of the apparent motions, to
which we shall have occasion to refer.
3. The apparent diurnal motion of the starry heavens
is perfectly uniform. The sun’s apparent diurnal motion
about the earth’s axis, however, deviates a little from per-
feet equality, by reason of his unequal angular motion m
the ecliptic, and its obliquity to the equator; but these
need not be attended to in the construction of a sun-dial.
Their joint effect produces the equation of time, a correction
which must always be applied to the time it indicates.
We have given a table of its quantity for every day in t e
year at the end. Atmospheric refraction likewise might
be taken into account, but in practice it is neglected. I e
construction of a dial is a graphical operation, subject to
dial
]tilling, the imperfection of instruments and their application The
W'O-' obJect in view is a practical method of finding a measure of
tune for the ordinary affairs of life; and for this, extreme
accuracy is not required.
4. The mean distance of the earth from the sun is
23,984 times its semidiameter. Hence we may infer that
all the phenomena of the solar motions, as seen from any
part of the earth’s surface, will be almost exactly the same
as if they were seen from its centre, the difference bein^ in¬
appreciable by the nicest instrument; just as the apparent
position of a spire or other object four miles distant, in
respect of neighbouring objects, will not be in the least
altered by a change of a foot in the position of the eye to
either side of the point fiom which the object was first
viewed. Hence it follows, that if we place in sunshine
a globe on which the circles of the sphere are delineated,
or, instead of a globe, a skeleton sphere, such as is repre*
sented in fig. 1 and 2 of Plate CLXXXV. formed of
twenty-four equal wire circles, which all pass through the
extremities of a common diameter Vp, formed of some
solid matter; and if these circles, in radiating from their
intersections P, p, make equal angles round these points,
just as the meridians do on the common terrestrial globe;
then, if the axis Yp be placed parallel to the earth’s1 axis;
the shadow projected by the axis will fall on the wires
one after another at intervals of an hour, because the ap¬
parent angular motion of the sun about the axis Yp will be
uniform, just as it is about the imaginary axis of the earth.
This very simple instrument, if correctly made, and
placed in a fixed position, with its axis directed to the
pole of the world, which is near the pole star, and, more¬
over, with one of its circles in the plane of the meridian
(that is, in a direction due north and south), would serve
to divide the day into twenty-four equal portions. This
is the most natural and elementarj' of all dials.
5. We have supposed our dial to be composed entirely
of wires or material circles; and although the hour of the
day will be known if the shadow of the axis be observed
to fall on one of the circles, there will be an uncertainty
as to the exact time when the shadow is passing between
two circles. To remedy this, let us suppose that a plane
ABCD, fig. 1, or AFCG, fig. 2, of some solid matter, is
placed within the sphere, and passes through E its centre.
The shadow of the axis PE will now be projected on this
plane surface, and will be seen at all times in its progress
from wire to wire. If now straight lines be drawn from
the centre E to the points in which the plane DAB meets
the wire circles, and the hours be marked on them as in
the figures, it will be noon when the shadow falls along
the line E XII., and eleven in the forenoon when it falls on
E XL, and one in the afternoon when it falls on EI., and so
on throughout the day. As the shadow on the plane will
always be visible, any time intermediate between two
hours may be guessed at nearly by the position of the
shadow in respect to the lines on which it falls at the pre¬
ceding and following hours.
6. It is evident that the plane BAD may have any posi¬
tion whatever within the sphere ; the dial will still indicate
the hours, supposing always that the axis Yp is directed to¬
wards the north and south poles of the heavens. We may
assume that the plane DAB is horizontal; then the lines
drawn on the plane from the centre to the points in which
it cuts the wires will constitute a horizontal dial. Such a
dial, constructed as has been explained, for London, in la¬
titude 51^°, is shown by fig 1. On the longest day the
sun’s centre rises at London forty-four minutes before four,
and sets seventeen minutes after eight; therefore the ex¬
treme hours marked on the dial are IV. and VIII.
7. If again we suppose the plane AEG to be vertical, as
in fig. 2, and that it faces the south, then we have a soidh
VOL vn.
L 1 N G. 761
dial. In this case the plane of the dial cannot be illumi- Dialling,
nated before six in the morning, nor after six in the even-
in?,’ rrv.6 i6 tbese.are tbe extreme hours marked on it.
• i r i P^ane’ which we have supposed to be in the in¬
side of the sphere, were perpendicular to the axis, it would
then pass through the equator in the heavens, and the re¬
sult would be an equinoctial dial. In this case, the circle
which forms the circumference of the dial would evident-
ly be divided into equal parts by the wire circles; there¬
fore the shadow would move with an uniform angular mo¬
tion about the centie, just as the hour-hand of a watch does ;
and, moreover, it would be illuminated on the north side'
only in the summer, and on the south side in the winter.
In the same way, by giving different positions to the plane,
the student of this subject may get an exact conception
of every other kind of dial.
9. It is sufficiently obvious, that when the points in
which the circles cut the plane BAD (fig. 1) or FCG
(fig. 2) have been once determined, and lines drawn from
them to the centre, the circles are no longer necessary to
the dial, which is then simply a plane; and although we
have employed the hypothesis of material circles to repre¬
sent the circles of the sphere, as being a convenient way
of treating the subject, yet the intersection of the circles
and the plane of the dial may be determined either by a
geometrical construction or a numerical calculation.
10. It will now be proper to define certain terms which
will frequently occur in treating this subject.
The plane ABCD (fig. 1), on which the lines that in¬
dicate the hours are drawn, is called the plane of the dial.
The material line PE, which rises out of the plane of
the dial, and projects a shadow on it, and thereby indi¬
cates the hours, is called the axis of the dial. Instead of
being a line or rod, it is sometimes the edge of a thin flat
plate (as in fig. 3, 4, &c.) fixed on the plane of the dial; it
is sometimes called the gnomon, also the style, of the dial.
The circles Yap, Yhp, Yep, &c. also the circles of the
celestial sphere which they represent, are hour circles
(Astronomy, Part II. chap. 1). Of these, that which
passes through the sun at noon is the meridian; the others
are named from the hours, as the six o’clock hour circle, &c.
The lines E XL E XII. E I. &c. which are the intersec¬
tions of the hour circles and the plane of the dial, are
called hour lines ; that in the plane of the meridian, which
indicates the hour of noon, is the meridian line.
The common intersection of the hour lines is called the
centre of the dial. The angles which the hour lines make
with the meridian lines are the hour angles at the centre of
the dial; and the spherical angles which the hour circles
make with the meridian are the hour angles at the pole.
These are the same as the angles which the planes of the
circles make with the meridian.
A horizontal dial is that which is delineated on a hori¬
zontal plane.
A vertical dial is that on a vertical plane. These may
be north, south, east, or west, according to the quarter which
they face.
Vertical declining dials are such vertical dials as do not
face any of the cardinal points.
Inclining or oblique dials are those traced on planes
which make oblique angles with the horizon. They are re¬
clining when they lean backwards from an observer, and
proclining when they project forward.
An equmoctial dial is that whose plane is parallel to the
equator, or perpendicular to the earth’s axis.
A polar dial is that traced on a plane perpendicular to
the meridian, and passing through the poles.
. Construction of Horizontal Dials by a Globe.
11. The manner in which the general principles of dial-
5 D
762
DIALLING.
Dialling, ling have been explained shows directly how a dial maybe
v'—constructed by means of a terrestrial globe. Let PE/> be
the axis of a globe (fig. 1), XII. E XII. the equator, and
BAD its horizon. Suppose now the globe to be rectified for
the latitude of any place, London for instance, which is in
latitude 51|° ; this is done by placing it in such a position
that the arc of the brazen meridian between the pole and
horizon is equal to the latitude. Then it is manifest, that
if at London the brazen meridian of the globe be placed
in the plane of the celestial meridian, its axis will point to
the poles of the world ; and if any one of the meridians on
the globe be brought under the brazen meridian, all the
meridians, supposing there are twenty-four, will correspond
to hour circles in the heavens. In short, the meridians on
the globe will correspond to the sphere formed of wire
circles, its wooden horizon to the plane inserted within the
sphere formed by the circles, and its axis to the axis of that
sphere. Assuming now the line drawn from E, the centie
of the globe, to the north point on the horizon as the twelve
o’clock hour line, the angle XII. E I. which the one o clock
line makes with it at the centre of the dial, will have for
its measure the arc of the horizon between the arc of the
meridian P XII. and the arc P I. of the next hour circle.
This will be about 11|°. In the very same way the hour
angle XII. E II. at the centre will be measured by the arc
of'die horizon between the brazen meridian and the arc
P II. of the two o’clock hour circle, and so on. The angles
made by the forenoon hour lines and the meridian line are
equal to those made by the corresponding afternoon hour
lines and the meridian line ; that is, the angle XI. E XIL to
the angle I. E XII. and X. E XII. to II. E XII. &c. I he
morning and evening hour lines for VI. will both be perpen¬
dicular to the meridian ; and it is easy to see that the morn¬
ing hour line for V. will be the continuation of the after¬
noon hour line for V.; and that the hour lines for IV. and
III. in the morning will be the prolongations of the lines
for the same hours in the afternoon. In the same way the
evening hours after VI. are determined from the morning
hours.
12. If the globe have more than twenty-four circles
(some have thirty-six), place the first meridian, which is
that of London, under the brazen meridian, and set the
moveable hour index to XII. at noon; then turn the globe
westward until the index points successively to 1. II. III.
IV. V. and VI. in the afternoon, or until 15°, 30°, 45°, 60°,
75°, and 90° of the equator pass under the brazen meri¬
dian ; and it will appear that the first meridian of the globe
cuts the horizon in the following number of degrees from
the north toward the east, viz. llf°, 24^°, 38-^°, 53i°,
71Ty>, and 90° ; these are the respective distances of the
above hours from XII. on the plane of the horizon.
13. To transfer these and the rest of the hours to the
plane of a horizontal dial (Plate CLXXXV. fig. 3), draw
parallel straight lines ac, bd, distant from each other by the
thickness of the style or gnomon; these, or the ,space
between them, will mark the meridian or twelve o’clock
line on the dial. Cross the double meridian line by the per¬
pendicular gabh, and this will be the hour lines for VI. in
the morning and evening.
About a and b as centres, with any convenient radius,
describe quadrants of circles eg, fh, and divide each into
ninety equal parts or degrees, as in the figure.
Because the hour lines are less distant from each other
about noon than in any other part of the dial, it is conve¬
nient to have the centres of these quadrants at some dis¬
tance from the centre of the surface on which the dial is de¬
lineated, to admit of more space for the hour lines about noon.
Lay a rule over b, and draw the hour line of I. through
114° in the quadrant; the hour line of II through 24^ ;
of III. through 38^°; of IV. through 53i°; and of V.
through 71-^°. Again, lay the ruler to the centre a of Dialling;
the quadrant eg, and through the like divisions or degrees
of that quadrant, viz. Ilf0, 24^°, SSy1^0, 53^°, and 71yL-°,
draw the forenoon hours of XL X. IX. VIII. and VII.
Extend the hour lines of IV. and V. in the afternoon
through b across the dial, and the prolongations will be
the hour lines of the same morning hours. In like man¬
ner, the prolongation of the hour lines of VIILVII. of the
morning hours through a will give the hour lines of the
same evening hours.
To form the style, draw a line from a through that de¬
gree of the quadrant eg which is the latitude of the place, in
the presen* case 511°. This line will determine the eleva¬
tion of the style, which is represented in the figure by the
shaded triangle, supposed to be of solid matter, and lying on
the surface of the dial. The thickness of the style must be
equal ,to ab, the breadth between the meridian lines. Let
it now be placed truly upright on the dial, so as to stand
on the space between them, and the dial will be finished.
The style should be of such a height that its shadow at
midsummer shall reach to the space on which the hours
are marked.
Note. The trouble of dividing the quadrants will be
avoided if you have a scale of chords, or protractor, and
know how to lay down by them an angle of any given
number of degrees. 4 his is one ot the simplest problems
of practical geometry.
To construct a direct South Dial by a Globe.
14. Let PBjoDF (fig. 2, Plate CLXXXV.) be a globe on
which twenty-four meridians or hour circles are marked,
P and p being the north and south poles, and XII. E XII.
the equator. Suppose now Pp, the axis ot the globe, to
coincide with the axis of the world; and some one meri¬
dian on it, as PFDja, with the meridian of the place for
which the dial is to serve ; then if the globe be cut through
the centre E, by a vertical plane AFCG, in an east and
west direction, it is manifest that straight lines drawn from
the centre to the points on which this plane meets the hour
circles on the globe will be the hour lines of a south or
north dial. The figure shows a south dial on the lower
half of the circle, which is the common section of the circle
and cutting plane, the hour lines being E VI. E VII. &c.;
and Ejo, the southern half of the axis of the globe, is the
axis of the dial. A north dial would just be its counter¬
part on the upper and opposite side of the plane.
15. By a comparison of fig. 1 and 2, it will appear that,
as in fig. 1, the angle which the axis PE makes with DAB,
the plane of the dial, is the latitude of the place; so in fig.
2, the angle which the axis pE makes with the plane
FAGC is the complement of the latitude, or what it wants
of 90°. Hence it follows that a south dial for any given
place will serve as a horizontal dial at a place whose lati¬
tude is the complement of that of the given place, and vice
versa. Indeed it is easy to see that, if a dial be correctly
constructed on any given plane for a given place, there will
be some other place, which may be found, where that dial will
serve as a horizontal dial. And'the reason is this ; what¬
ever be the position of a plane, there must be some place
on the earth whose horizon is parallel to that plane. Now
all dials whose planes are parallel, wherever they be si¬
tuated on the earth’s surface, have their axes parallel;
therefore, at the same instant the angular motion of the
shadow will be the same on them all. If the planes ot
dials which are parallel he perpendicular to the same me¬
ridian, they will indicate the same hour at the same in¬
stant. If they are not, the difference between the hours
they indicate at any instant will be different, because ot
their difference of longitude. _ .
16. From what has been explained, it is evident how tne
tailing.
DIAL
south dial (fig. 7) is to be constructed for a given place
London for instance. Draw two vertical lines ac hrl r n
the plane of the dial, for the twelve o’clock hour lines
so that the distance between them may be exactly the
thickness of the style; cross them perpendicularly by the
line VI. « VI.; this is the six o’clock hour line. On a and
b as centres with any convenient distance describe quad
rants, and divide each into ninety degrees. Rectify now
the globe for the complement of the latitude of the place ■
bring a meridian or hour circle on the globe to the north
point of the horizon, and (supposing there are twenty-four
hour circles) note the degrees reckoned from the north
on the horizon, in which it is intersected by the hour
circles; these will be the angles which the hour lines make
with the double meridian line at a and b the centre of the
dial. Proceed in laying them down exactly as in making a
horizontal dial; and it will only be necessary to lay down
the hours from noon to six in the evening and the morn¬
ing, because a vertical plane facing the south can never
be illuminated earlier nor later.
17. We have explained the application of a globe to the
construction of dials, less with a view to recommend it in
practice, than to elucidate the theory. Other methods
are better, because, with the best mounted globe, the
hour angles at the centre of the dial cannot be determin¬
ed with much accuracy. It will be better to compute
the angles and lay them down from a scale of chords; or
we may use a geometrical construction ; or, lastly, we may
lay down the hour lines by means of a dialling scale, the
easiest method of any.
Geometrical Theory of Dialling.
18. It has been shown (art. 3 and 4) that if at any place a
straight rod or wire be parallel to the earth’s axis, in which
position it may be considered as coinciding with the axis
of the heavens, the angular motion of the sun about that
rod will appear to be perfectly uniform throughout the
day, and therefore the shadowy space within which the
sun s light is wholly or in part intercepted by the rod
will also turn uniformly about it. Hence, to construct a
sun-dial, it is only necessary to place the rod so that its
shadow may fall on a surface of any kind, and to trace on
that surface, at any equal intervals of time (hours for in¬
stance), the line shown on the surface by the shadow at
the instants which separate these intervals. These lines,
numbered according to the hours, will serve to show time
by the shadow at all seasons. This is the most simple
way of constructing a dial, but it supposes that we have
the means of dividing time into equal intervals, a thing
indeed easy since the invention of clocks and watches.
rIo reduce the subject to a geometrical theory, let
us suppose that, in the adjoining figure, OCF is the i'od
(considered as a material straight line) which projects
the shadow, and that it is perpendicular to the plane of a
circle APB at C its centre, and let CA be the position of
the shadow on the circle at noon Then, if the circum-
L ! N G. 763
; tough the points of division, it is manifest that the sha¬
dow will fall on the lines at the hours marked on them,
and the circle will serve as a dial. And since its plane
coincides with that of the equator in the heavens, it is an
Lquinoctial Dial.
Equinoctial Dial.
19. To construct this dial (Plate CLXXXVII. fig. 6), on
C, a point in the middie of its face, as a centre, describe a
circle ALDL; divide the circumference into twenty-four
equal parts, and from the points of division draw straight
mes to the centre ; these will be the hour lines; mark the
hours on them as in the figure; fix a thin and straight
w ire in the centre, perpendicular to the face of the dial,
for its style, and place it with the style directed to the’
pole, and the twelve o’clock hour line in the plane of the
meridian; and when the dial is illuminated by the sun,
the hours will be indicated by the shadow of the style.
20. In our climate the superior side of an equinoctial
dial is illuminated when the sun is on the north side of
the equator, and the inferior or opposite when he is on
the south side. On the equinoctial days neither side will
be illuminated, because the sun is in the plane of the dial.
However, if it have a ledge rising a little above the oppo¬
site sides, and the hour lines be continued on the ledge,
the shadow will fall on its inside, and indicate the hour,
although the direction of the sun’s rays be almost parallel
to its face.
21. Io set up an equinoctial dial, direct the straight
edge of a vertical plane towards the polar star, which is
about one degree thirty-six minutes from the pole of the
world; it will then nearly coincide with the axis of the
sphere; but for greater accuracy the edge may be direct¬
ed to the star when highest or lowest, and a line drawn
on the plane, making with its edge the above angle. This
will be in the true direction of the axis of the dial, the
plane of which must be placed perpendicular to the line
so determined, and the six o’clock hours in a horizontal
line : the dial will then be properly placed.
22. An equinoctial dial may be set up about the time of
either solstice without knowing either the latitude of the
place or the direction of the meridian, from this property,
that when truly placed, the extremity of the shadow of
the axis will then describe a circle on the plane of the
dial, the centre being the common intersection of the hour
lines. If, therefore, the dial be placed nearly in a true
position, with the six o’clock hour line exactly horizontal,
by observing the line which is the extremity of the path of
the shadow, it will be seen in which way the deviation
from the true position lies, and by repeated adjustment it
may be truly placed. About the equinoxes the daily path
will deviate somewhat from a circle, by reason of the quick
change in the sun’s declination.
Horizontal Dial.
23. Let GEDH (see the adjoining figure) be a hori¬
zontal plane on which a dial is to be delineated, and let
LOK be a meridian line on this plane; let OCF be a ma¬
terial line or rod in the plane of the meridian, which meets
the horizontal plane in O, and makes with OK an angle
equal to the latitude of the dial: this rod will be directed
to the pole, and will be the axis of the dial. Let BAP be
an equinoctial dial, having OCF for its axis, and C for its
centre; and let CA, the meridian line on this dial, meet
the meridian line on the horizontal plane in K. As has
been explained, the plane of the shadow will turn uniform¬
ly about the axis OCF, meeting the equinoctial plane in
some line CPQ, and the horizontal plane in a correspond-
764
Dialling.
DIALLING.
ing line OQ. Let Cl, C2, &c. be the hour lines after
noon on the equatorial dial, and O I. O II. &c. the corre¬
sponding hour lines on the horizontal dial; the former will
make with the meridian line OAK angles proportional to
the time from noon, and will be known when the hour is
given, 15 degrees being reckoned an hour. The plane of
the equinoctial dial being supposed extended to meet the
horizontal plane in the line QK, which will be at right
angles to the meridian lines CK, OK, the problem to
be now resolved is, to find the hour angle KOQ at the
centre of the horizontal dial corresponding to any given
angle KCQ at the centre of the equinoctial dial, which
measures the time from noon.
The triangles CKQ on the equinoctial plane, and OKQ
on the horizontal plane, have a common side KQ, and each
a right angle at K; therefore, by trigonometry,
CK : KQ = rad. : tan. KCQ,
and KQ : OK = tan. KOQ: rad.,
therefore ex. ceq. CK : OK == tan. KOQ : tan. KCQ.
But in the triangle COK, right angled at C,
CK : OK =: rad.: sin. OCK,
therefore rad. sin. OCK — tan. KOQ : tan. KCQ.
Hence we have this general theorem or rule for comput¬
ing the hour angles at the centre of a horizontal dial: As
radius to the sine of the latitude, so is the tangent of the hour
from noon (reckoning 15° to an hour) to the tangent of the
hour angle at the centre of a horizontal dial; or, putting x
for the hour from noon in degrees, y for the hour angle at Dialling,
the centre of the dial, L for the latitude of the place,
tan. a; sin. L
tan. y —  j  fTv
J rad.
We have supposed GHDE to be a horizontal plane, but
the formula evidently applies to any plane whatever per¬
pendicular to the meridian : all that is required for its ap¬
plication is the angle which the axis Oh makes with the
meridian line OK on the plane.
As an example, let it be required to find the hour angle
at the centre of a horizontal dial for XI. or I. o clock for
the latitude of London 51|0. In this case the hour angle
from noon at the pole is 15°.
As rad KbOOOOO
To sin. 51° 30' 9*89354<
So is tan. 15° 9'42895
19-32159
To tan. 11° 51' 9-32159
Here we have found that the hour lines of XI. and I. must
each make an angle of 11° 51' with the meridian line at
the centre of the dial.
24. In this way the following table has been computed
for every half degree of latitude from 50° to 59° 30', which
are the limits of Britain.
Table of the Angles which the Hour Lines on a Horizontal Dial make with the Meridian for every
half degree of latitude from 50 to 591°.
Latitude.
Mor. H. XI.
Af. H. I.
50° 0'
50 30
51 0
51 30
52 0
52 30
53 0
53 30
54 0
54 30
55 0
55 30
56 0
56 30
57 0
57 30
58 0
58 30
59 0
59 30
11° 36'
11 41
11 46
11 51
11 55
12 0
12
12
Mor. H. X.
Af. H. II.
12 14
12 18
12 23
12 27
12 31
12 36
12 40
12 44
12 48
12 52
12 56
13 0
23° 51'
24 1
24 10
24 19
24 28
24 37
24 45
24 54
25 2
25 10
25 19
25 27
25 35
25 43
25 50
25 58
26 5
26 13
26 20
26 27
Mor. H IX.
Af. H. III.
M. H. VIII,
Af. H. IV.
37°
37
37
38
38
38
38
38
38
39
39
39
39
39
39
40
40
40
40
45
27'
39
51
3
14
25
37
48
58
9
19
30
40
50
59
9
18
27
36
45
M. H. VII.
Af. H. V.
53° O'
53 12
53 23
53 35
53 46
53 57
54 8
54 19
54 29
54 39
54 49
54 59
55 9
55 18
55 27
55 36
55 45
55 54
56 2
56 11
70° 43'
70 51
70 59
71 6
71 13
71 20
71 27
71 34
71 40
71 47
71 53
71 59
72 5
72 11
72 17
72 22
72 28
72 33
72 39
72 44
M. H. VI.
Af. H. VI.
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
90 0
In this table the angles which the hour lines of V. IV.
III. make with the meridian are not put down, because
they are the same as those of the like hours in the after¬
noon, the former being the continuation of the latter; a
similar remark applies to the hour lines of. VII. .VIII. IX.
in the evening, which are the continuation of the like
morning hours.
The use of the table is obvious, hor example, it. the
angles of the hour lines at the centre of a dial for 56° of
latitude be required, the table shows that the hour lines
of XL and I. make angles of 12° 31' with the meridian,
and the hour lines of X. and II. angles of 25° 35', and so
on. If the latitude is not exactly contained in the table,
proportional parts may be taken, without any sensible
error. Thus, if the hour line angles of a horizontal dial
for 55° 42' be required, the table gives 12° 37' for the an¬
gle of the XL of I. o’clock line in lat. 55° 30', and 12° 31' in
fat. 56°: the difference of the angles corresponding to 30'
difference of latitude is 4'. Now the proposed latitude ex¬
ceeds the least of these two by 12', therefore we state this
Hence we find
, 4 X 12
proposition 30 : 12 — 4' : —^ 1 ‘o-
that 12' of addition to the latitude gives l'-6, or nearly 2'
of addition to the hour angle, which will therefore be I-
29'.
DIALLING. 765
Geometrical Construction of a Horizontal Dial.
25. The formula of art. 23, namely, that the tangent of
the angle which any hour line makes with the meridian
line is a fourth proportional to radius, the sine of the la¬
titude, and the tangent of the hour angle at the pole (that
is, the hour from noon in degrees), reduces the construc¬
tion of a dial to this geometrical problem.
Having given any angle, to find another whose tangent
shall have to that of the former a given ratio. This pro¬
blem may be resolved graphically in various ways, and
in as many ways may the hour lines on a dial be deter¬
mined.
First Construction.
26. Draw two parallel straight lines CM, C'M' (Plate
CLXXXV. fig. 5) at a distance equal to the thickness of
the style for the double meridian line, and cross them at
right angles by the six o’clock hour line VI. C'C VI.
Make a right angled triangle HCK (fig. 6), having K a
right angle, and C equal to the angle which the axis of
the dial is to make with its plane, that is, to the lati¬
tude of the place, which for London is 51|°. About
C and C' (in fig. 5) as centres with a radius equal to
CH, the hypothenuse of the triangle CKH (fig. 6), de¬
scribe the quadrants M6, M'6 ; and about the same cen¬
tres, with a radius equal to HK, the side of the triangle
opposite to C, describe concentric quadrants, as in the
figure ; divide these each into six equal parts at the points
11, 10, 9, &c. on one side of the meridian line, and at
1, 2, &c. on the other side. From the points of divi¬
sion in the inner quadrant draw lines parallel to the meri¬
dian line, and from those in the outer quadrant draw lines
paralleT to the six o’clock line, so that the lines drawn
from the corresponding divisions in the concentric quad¬
rants may meet, viz. those from 11 in «, from 10 in b, &c.
on one side, and those from 2 in a, from 3 in b, &c. on
the other side ; draw straight lines C'XI. C I. through the
points a and a on each side of the meridian line, and these
will be the hour lines of XL and I. In like manner, draw
straight lines C' X. C II. through b and b, and these will be
the hour lines of X. and II. and so on. Extend the morn¬
ing hour lines of VII. VIII. and IX. across the dial, and
the prolongations will be the hour lines of the same hours
in the evening; and in like manner form the hour lines of
V. IV. III. in the morning from the same afternoon hours.
The style CLM (fig. 6) must have the angle at C equal
to the latitude, and may be formed from the triangle CHK
(see art. 23).
27, To demonstrate the truth of this construction, let CB
(fig. 5) be any one of the hour lines determined by the
intersection of DB a parallel, and EBA a perpendicular
to the meridian line, drawn from corresponding points D,
E in the concentric quadrants. The points C, D, E will
be in a straight line ; and from similar triangles,
AE : AB = CE : CD = CH : HK (fig. 6).
Now AE is to AB as the tangent of ACE, the hour from
noon (in degrees) to the tangent of ACB, the angle made
by the hour line and the meridian, and CH is to HK as
radius to the sine of the latitude : Therefore (art. 23) the
hour line is rightly determined.
Second Construction.
28. In the following figure let C be the centre of the
dial, CM the XII. and CA the VI. o’clock hour lines. Make
the angle MCB equal to the latitude of the place, l ake
CB of any length, and draw BA perpendicular to CA;
make CM equal to CB, and join MA; bisect MA in D;
draw DO perpendicular to MA, and equal to DM or DA ;
join OM, OA ; and about O as a centre, with OM or OA
(which are equal) as a radius, describe the quadrant M3 A, Dialling,
and divide it into six equal parts at the points 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
These are to correspond to hours; but each may be sub¬
divided into quarters, or other smaller parts of an hour.
Now, to determine any hour line, for example, that of
II. o’clock; draw a straight line OH from O to the divi¬
sion 2 of the quadrant, meeting MA in E; next draw a
straight line CK from C through E, and this will be the
hour line for II. Exactly in the same way all the other
hour lines for the afternoon, and by a like construction
on the other side of the meridian those for the forenoon,
may be found.
29. To demonstrate this construction, draw MK perpen¬
dicular to CM, meeting CE in K, and MH perpendicular
to OM, meeting OE in H. The triangles OAE, HME,
are manifestly equiangular ; so also are the triangles CAE,
KME;
therefore MH : OA — ME : AE — MK : AC.
Now, by trigonometry, making MO radius,
MH : OA = tan. MOH : tan. OMA.
And making MC radius; MK : AC=tan. MCK: tan. AMC.
Therefore tan. MOH : tan. OMA — tan. MCK : tan. AMC.
And by alter, tan. MOH: tan. MCK = tan. OMA: tan. AMC.
That is, because tan. OMA = radius,
tan. MOE : tan. MCE = rad. : tan. AMC.
But rad.: tan. AMC = CM or CB : C A = rad.: sin. CMA ;
therefore, radius is to the sine of CMA, the latitude, as
the tangent of MO A, the hour angle from noon, to the
tangent of MCE; hence (art. 23) CE is the hour line re¬
quired.
30. If OD be made the radius of a circle, DE will evi¬
dently be the tangent of the hour angle, reckoned from
three o’clock; and in general, the segment between the
middle of AM and the point in which any hour line cuts
it, will be the tangent of the interval in time between that
hour and three o’clock. If therefore these tangents be laid
down on a scale, which may be called the scale of hours,
it will serve for the construction of all dials whatever.
It has been shown that CM is to CA as radius to the
sine of the latitude; but CM is to CA as radius to the
tangent of CMA, therefore the tangent of CMA is equal
to the sine of the latitude; so that the latitude being
known, the angle CMA may be found by inspection in toe
trigonometrical tables. Let this angle be v, then AC
= AM X S1— is known. From this formula, a second
rad.
scale, which shall show the length of AC for every degree
of latitude, may be formed; this may be called the scale
766
DIALLING.
Dialling. Gf latitudes, and, with the scale of hours, will serve for
the construction of all dials.
Construction of Dialling Scales.
31. Scales for the construction of dials may be either
made entirely by a geometrical construction, or their di¬
visions may be computed by trigonometry, and laid down
from a scale of equal parts.
If a geometrical construction is used (Plate CLXXXV.
fig. 8), divide AD a quadrant of a circle into six equal parts,
at 1, 2, 3, &c. each of these may be again divided into
four (these, however, are not shown in the figure.) Draw
a straight line from E, the centre, to 3, the middle point
of division, and draw rSs perpendicular to E3 ; also straight
lines from the centre through A, D, the extremities of
the quadrant, meeting the perpendicular in r and s; and
against these marks put XII. and VI. Draw straight lines
from E through the intermediate division 1, 2, &c. and
where they meet rs mark I. II. III. IV. \. rhe line rs
thus divided is the scale of hours.
32. Divide CD, another quadrant of the circle, into 90
equal parts (only every tenth division is shown), and from
the points of division draw perpendiculars to the radius
EC ; these cut off distances E10, E20, &c. which are equal
to the sines of 10°, 20°, &c. and EC is a line of sines.
33. Draw' straight lines from D through 10, 20, &c. the
bottoms of the perpendiculars on EC, and produce them
to meet the circle in a, b, &c.; transfer the chords of the
arcs V>a, BZ>, &c. to the line BC, and mark the divisions
10, 20, &c.; there will thus be formed the scale of lati¬
tudes BC.
34. Transfer the chords of the arcs D10, D20, &c. or
of A10, A20, &c. arcs equal to them, to the line AB,
thus forming a scale of chords AB. The scales of hours,
latitudes, and chords, are shown together in fig. 9.
35. The dialling scales may also be constructed by lay-
in" down the divisions from a good scale of equal parts,
and the numbers in the two follow'ing tables, of which the
first gives the distances of the divisions on the scale of la¬
titudes, in thousandth parts of the whole length of the
scale; and the second gives, in the same equal parts, the
distances of the divisions on the scale of hours, from the
beginning, XII. to every fifth minute of each hour.
Distance of Divisions from beginning of Scale of Latitudes.
D. 1 Parts. D.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
24-7
49-3
73-9
98-4
122-8
147-0
171-1
194-9
218-6
241-9
265-0
287-9
310-4
332-5
354-3
375-8
396-9
417-6
437-8
457-7
477-3
22
23
24
25
26
27.
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
Parts.
496-1
514-6
532-8
550-5
567-8
584-6
601-0
616-9
632-5
647-5
662-2
676-4
690-2
703-6
716-6
729-2
741-4
753-2
764-7
775-8
786-5
D.
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
Parts.
796-8
806-7
816-5
825-9
834-8
843-6
851-9
860-0
867-8
875-3
882-5
889-5
896-2
902-6
908-8
914-7
920-3
925-8
931*1
936-0
D.
Parts.
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
85
90
940-8
945-4
949-6
953-9
957-8
961-5
965-1
968-5
971-6
974-5
977-4
980-1
982-5
984-8
986-9
988-8
990-6
992-4
998-2
1000-0
Distance of Divisions from beginning of Scale of Hours. Dialling
Hours
and
Minutes.
XII. 0
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
55
I. 0
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
55
Parts.
Hours
and
Minutes.
0-0
30-3
59-1
87-0
113-8
139-6
164-5
188-8
212-0
234-6
256-7
278-0
298-8
319-2
339-0
358-4
377-3
395-9
414-2
432-2
449-8
467-1
484-8
501-1
II. 0
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
55
III. 0
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
55
Parts.
517-7
534-1
550-4
566-4
582-4
598-3
614-0
629-6
645-2
660-8
676-3
691-7
707-1
722-5
737-9
753-4
769-0
783-6
800-2
816-0
831-9
847-8
863-8
880-1
Hours
and
Minutes.
IV. 0
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
55
V. O
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
55
VI. 0
Parts.
896-5
913-1
930-0
947-1
964-5
982-0
1000-0
1018-3
1036-9
1055-8
1075-2
1095-0
1115-4
1136-2
1157-5
1179-6
1202-2
1225-4
1249-7
1274-6
1300-4
1327-2
1355-1
1383-9
1414-2
Construction of a Horizontal Dial by the Scales or the
Tables.
36. Draw two parallel straight lines ac, bd, at a distance
equal to the thickness of the style of the dial (Plate
CLXXXV. fig. 4), for the double meridian line, and across
them, at right angles, An\w fabe, the six o’clock hour line.
Supposing the dial is to be for London, in latitude 51|°,
make be and of each equal to the distance from 0 to 51
on the scale of latitudes (fig. 9), and place between the
points e, f and the meridian lines, straight lines ed, fc,
each equal to the whole length of the scale of hours, viz.
from XII. to VI.; make cl and d\ each equal to the dis¬
tance from XII. to I.; and through the points 1, 1 draw
aXI. and b\. for the eleven and one o’clock hour lines. In
like manner, make c2 and d2 equal to the distance XII.
II., and draw the hour lines «X. ML and so on, for the re¬
maining hour lines; the quarters and lesser divisions are
to be laid down in the same way. The lines for the hours
before VI. in the morning, and after VI. in the evening,
are to be drawn as directed in art. 26.
37. If a common scale of equal parts and the tables be
used, then make be and af each equal to 871-5 equal parts,
this being the mean between the numbers for 51° and 52°
in the table for the scale of latitudes; the lines ed and ac
must in all cases be each 1414-2 from the same scale ; and
the distances d\ and cl each 298-8; andc?2, c2 each 517-7,
these being the distances for 1 and 2 from the beginning ol
the scale (see Table). The distances of 3, 4,5 from c and d
must be 701-7, 896-5, and 1154-4 equal parts respectively, as
appears by the table; and in this way the points in de, cf,
through which the hour lines pass, also the lines for every
fifth minute, may be readily found, and the corresponding
divisions transferred to the circumference of the dial.
Vertical North and South Dials.
38. These dials are represented in fig. 1 and 2 of Plate
CLXXXVII. It has been explained in art. 15 that south
and north dials for a given latitude would be horizontal
DIAL
Dding. dials if carried to a place whose latitude is the comple-
ment of that latitude; so that a south dial for latitude 51,’°
would be a horizontal dial for 38i°. This principle, first
discovered by the Arabian writers on gnomonics, enables
us to apply all that has been here taught concerning ho¬
rizontal dials to those directly facing the south and north.
39. If we put x to denote the hour angle in the hea¬
vens, reckoned from noon either way, and y for the angle
which any hour line on a north or south dial makes with
the meridian line, and L for the latitude; the formula for
determining trigonometrically the hour lines on a north
and south dial will be
tan. y — cos. L tan. x (2.)
In north latitudes, a north dial can only be illuminated
when the sun has north declination, that is, from about
21st March to 22d September; and the nearest times to
noon which can be shown by it are those at which the
sun crosses the prime vertical on the day of the summer
solstice. A south dial can never be illuminated before
six in the morning, nor after six in the evening; because
when the sun rises earlier and sets later, he never crosses
the prime vertical so early as six in the morning, nor so
late as six in the evening. It will therefore be needless
to describe on either more hours than can be wanted.
40. Supposing a dial to be traced on a thin material
plane, it is easy to understand that a direct north dial is
only the back of a direct south one; so that if the hour
lines of one of them were cut through it, and extended,
they would form on the opposite side the hour lines of the
other, and the style of the one dial produced would form
the style of the other dial.
Vertical East and West Dials.
41. These are described on vertical plpnes facing due
east and west; therefore their planes coincide with the
meridian, and pass through the poles of the world. Fig. 8
and 9, in Plate CLXXXVII. represent east and west dials.
In fig. 8, let HR be a horizontal line on a plane facing
due east, and ab a line in the direction of the earth’s axis
crossing it ate. Through this point draw EQ perpendicu¬
lar to ab, then EQ will be in the plane of the equinoctial
circle in the heavens.
Suppose now that at any two points a, b in the line di¬
rected to the pole there are wires of equal length fixed
perpendicular to the plane of the dial, and that their tops
are joined by a third wire, so as to form a rectangle Aa6I3
(see fig. 10), one side of which ab is on the face of the
dial, and the opposite side AB is parallel to it and direct¬
ed to the pole. The earth’s radius being as nothing when
compared with the sun’s distance, it follows that the an¬
gular motion of the sun about the line AB will be uniform,
just as it is about the earth’s axis, and therefore that the
shadow of the line will turn uniformly about it as an axis,
and its projection on the dial will always be perpendicu¬
lar to the line EQ. It will now be easy to understand,
that at six in the morning the shadowy plane will be per¬
pendicular to the plane of the dial, and will fall on the
line ab; and that, as it turns uniformly about its axis, it
will cut off from cQ lines which will be the tangents of
the angles generated by the shadow, that is, the tangents
of the hour angles from six.
The same will be true of a west dial (see fig. 9) ; the
hour lines of both will be perpendicular to EQ, the line
in which the plane of the equator intersects the plane of
the dial; and if dbe put for the height of the rod AB
above the dial, x for the hour angle from six o’clock,
and y for the distance of the hour line reckoned on EQ
either way from c, then, supposing radius = 1, the formula
for the dial will be
y — d tan.   (3.)
ling. 767
Geometrical Construction of Vertical East and West Dials. Dialling.
42. On the east and west vertical plane (fig. 8, 9) draw
the horizontal line HR, and at an assumed point c in that
line draw a straight line acb, so as to make with it an angle
equal to the latitude ot the place, and directed, in each
dial, towards the north. This line is to serve as the six
o’clock hour line, over which the rod or wire AB is to be
placed on its supports, An, B6, as the style of the dial. In
the line acb take cb equal to B6, the height of the style.
About 6 as a centre, with a radius equal to be, describe a
semicircle, and divide each quadrant into six equal parts:
draw EcQ perpendicular to be, and from b, through the
points of division of the circle, draw straight lines, pro¬
ducing them until they meet the line EQ. Through the
points of intersection draw perpendiculars to EQ, which
will be the hour lines; against these the hours are to be
written as in the figures. At the points a and b erect the
supports of the style perpendicular to the plane of the
dial, and each equal in length to the line be, and over
them place the rod AB, and the dial is finished.
43. The east dial will show the hours from sunrise until
near noon, and the west dial from a little after noon until
sunset; but neither can indicate the exact time of noon by
a shadow, because then it goes off parallel to their planes.
Polar Dial.
44. This dial is shown in fig. 3, Plate CLXXXVII. It
is described on a plane perpendicular to the meridian, and
passing through the poles. It has a great affinity with east
and west dials; for if a prism with six rectangular faces
were placed with its axis directed to the pole, and two
of its faces due east and west, the remaining two would
form planes for polar dials, and the face directed to the
pole would serve as the plane of an equinoctial dial.
45. The style of a polar dial, like that of an east or
west dial, must be parallel to its face, and may have the
same form (see fig. 10). To construct it, draw ab in the
plane of the meridian for the twelve o’clock hour line, and
cross it at right angles by the horizontal line HR. The
hour lines are to be found exactly as in the east and west
dials, and marked with the hours as in the figure.
A polar dial may, if it be of sufficient extent, showtime
from a little after six in the morning to a little before six
in the evening. At the hours of six the sun is in the plane
of the dial, and the shadow parallel to its face.
Putting x to denote the hour from noon, and y for the
distance of the hour line from the meridian line, and d for
the height of the style above the plane of the dial; the
formula for a polar dial is
y — d tan. x (4.)
Vertical Declining Dials. .
46. It seldom happens that an upright wall faces ex¬
actly one of the cardinal points; therefore, in general, a
dial described on the plane of a wall will be a vertical
declining dial.
47. The declination of a plane is an arch of the horizon
between the plane and the prime vertical; or it is the arch
between the meridian and a plane perpendicular to the
dial plane, and is always reckoned from the south or north.
48. The meridian of a plane is the meridian perpendi¬
cular to the plane of the dial. This differs from the me¬
ridian of the place, whifh is the meridian that is perpendi¬
cular to the horizon.
The substyle of a dial is the common section of its plane
and the plane of its meridian, or it is the line in which
perpendiculars drawn from every point in the axis of the
dial meet its plane. In horizontal and in vertical south
and north dials, the substyle coincides with the twelve
o’clock hour line; but not in declining dials.
768
Dialling.
DIALLING.
The difference of longitude of a dial plane is the angle
which the plane of its meridian makes with the meridian
of the place.
The latitude of any dial plane is the angle which the
axis makes with the plane; which is also the latitude of
the place where the dial would be a horizontal one.
49. In the adjoining figure let AB be a line drawn on a
vertical plane, a wall, for instance. It may have any as¬
pect, but, to fix our ideas, let us suppose it to face some
point between tbe south and west; let CE be the style or
axis fixed at C in the wall in the direction of the earth s
axis; draw the vertical line CD on the plane, and from E,
the extremity of the style, draw El) perpendicular to
CD ; the plane of the triangle CDE will manifestly coin¬
cide with the meridian, and CD will be the twelve o clock-
hour line on the dial.
Let NCF be a horizontal line passing through C due east
and west; conceive a plane to pass along NF and the ver¬
tical line CD ; this will coincide with the prime vertical
in the heavens. Let us now suppose that at some houi,
for example two in the afternoon, the horary plane (that
is, the plane passing through the sun and the axis CE)
meets the plane of the dial in the line CH, and the plane
of the prime vertical in C^; the first of these lines will be
the hour line of two on the dial to be constructed, and the
second the line of the same hour on the prime vertical,
that is, on a vertical south dial. Now by the theory of
that dial (art. 38) the angle DC/i will be known ; it is,
however, the angle DCH that is required in order to con¬
struct the dial under consideration.
50. Suppose a horizontal plane to pass along ED, and
meet the horary plane in the line EH/«, the plane of the
dial in DH, and the prime vertical in DA ; the plane EDA
may now be regarded as that of a horizontal dial, of which
EC is the axis, E the centre, and ED the meridian line;
and on this dial EH will be the hour line of two ; but for
any given hour, the angle DEII will be known by for¬
mula 1, art. 23. And because the horizontal lines DE, DA
lie, one in the plane ot the meridian CDE, and the other
in the plane of the prime vertical CDA, which is perpen¬
dicular to the former, the angle EDA will be a right angle ;
now the angle HDA, or its equal BCE, is the declination
of the dial plane (art. 46), and therefore is given, or may
be found; therefore the angle EDH, its complement, is
known; and hence
51. All the angles of the triangle DEH are known.
Let L denote the latitude of the place for which the
dial is to be made ; D, the angle HDA or BCE, the decli¬
nation of the plane; and E the angle made by the meri¬
dian ED of the assumed horizontal dial, and EH the hour
line; then, in the triangle DEH we have the angle at E
(denoted by E), the angle EDH = 90 — D, and there¬
fore the third angle DHE = 180 — (E +90 — D) =
90° — (E — D). , , . , ,
In the right-angled triangles CDE, CDH (which have
CD, one of the sides about the right angle, common to Dialling,
both), by trigonometry,
DE: DH = tan. DCE or cot. DEC : tan. DCH.
But in the triangle DEH,
DE : DH = sin. DHE : sin. DEH = cos. (E—D) : sin. E ;
therefore, cos. (E — D) : sin. E = cot. DEC ; tan. DCH.
Now the first three terms of this proposition are known,
because the angles E and D are given, and also the angle
DEC, which is the latitude ; therefore the fourth term,
viz. the tangent of DCH, is known; and hence the angle
DCH, between the hour line CH on the dial and the me¬
ridian line CD, is known. Thus may all the angles made
by the hour lines and the meridian of the dial be deter¬
mined by plane trigonometry.
52. This way of finding the hour lines requires two ope¬
rations for each, viz. one to find the angle DEH at the
centre of the auxiliary horizontal dial; and a second to
find the angle DCH at the centre of the dial to be con¬
structed. We shall now investigate a formula which gives
each angle by a single operation, when two subsidiary quan¬
tities common to them all have been found.
For any vertical declining dial let
L = latitude of the place ;
D = BCE, the declination of the dial plane reckoned
from the east towards .the south ;
x the variable horary angle described by the sun since
noon ;
y the corresponding angle DCH at the centre of the
dial; and, as before, put E for the angle described
at the centre of a horizontal dial for the same la¬
titude in the time x.
From what has been shown in the preceding articles,
we Lave
cot. L sin. E A
tan. y —  -rr<—fcv VW
^ cos. (E—D)
tan. E = sin. L tan.   (2.)
In formula (1), instead of cos. (E — D), put its ecjual
cos. E cos. D + sin. E sin. D (Algebra, art. 239), then di¬
vide the numerator and denominator by cos. E, and lastly,
put tan. E instead of the formula will then be trans-
1 cos. E
cot. L tan. E
formed to this,
tan. y — ^ ^ ip tan. £
Now put sin. L tan. x instead of tan. E; ann again
sin. x
cos. x
instead of tan. x ; we then have
cot. L sin. L sin. x
tan. y —
cos. x cos. D + sin. L sin. x sin. D
Let P denote a subsidiary angle, sucb, that
_ sin. L sin. D
tan. P — sin. L tan. D =
...(3.)
then cos. D =
cos. D
sin. L sin. D cos. P
sin. P
this value of cos. D being substituted, instead of it, in
formula 3, we get
cot. L sin. P sin. x
tan. y —
(4.)
sin. D cos. x cos. P + sin. x sin. P
The denominator of this last fraction is manifestly
cos. (p—x). Hence we have the following simple formula
for computing the angle which the shadow of the axis o
any vertical declining dial describes in any time before or
after noon.
cot. L sin.P sin, x
tan* y ~ smTD ' cos. (*—P)‘
This formula gives the afternoon hours on a vertical
dialling.
Piling. south dial declining towards the west; but we have only
to suppose the angles D and x to vary, and attend to the
change of sign of sin. x and cos. (*—P), and the for¬
mulae will be adapted to the forenoon hours.
53. If we suppose D, the declination of the plane, to de¬
crease, the dial will approach to a south dial; and since
tan. P sin. L _ . _
tan.' D ~ as D decreases, Pwill decrease (since L
is constant), and they will vanish together, so that ulti¬
mately the fraction
sin. P _ tan. P cos. P sin. L cos. P
769
sin. D
becomes simply
tan D cos. D
>. P
cos. D
cos. L
tan. Q =
rad.
cot. L sin. P
sin. D
These quantities, Pand tan. P, may be called the constants
of the dial. Then, the forenoon hours on the west declin¬
ing dial, and the afternoon hours on the east, will be found
from the formula
tan. Q sin. x ,r .
tan-» = ^+p) ; 
and the morning hours on the east declining dial, and af¬
ternoon hours on the west, by the formula
tan. Q sin. x o /? \
tan^=;^r-p) '
56. We shall now give examples of the application of
the formulae.
Ex. 1. Let it be required to find the angles which the
hour lines make with the meridian line on a vertical south
dial that declines 36° westward, the latitude being 54^°.
In this dial, which is represented in Plate CLXXXYII.
fig. 5, L = 54° 30'; D = 36° west.
Computation of P and tan. Q.
tan. (D = 36°) 9-86126
sin. (L = 54° 30') 9-91069
tan. (P = 30° 36')
sin. P
cot. L
sin. D
9-77195
9-70675
9-85327
ar. comp. 0-23078
Having determined the constants, the hour line angles Dialling,
may be found as follows:
Calculation of hour line angle of XI. A. M.
sin. (x = 15°) 9-41300
tan- Q 9-79080
cos. (a: + P — 45° 36') ar. comp 0-15511
tan. (y = 12° 52') 9-35891
Calculation of hour line angle of I. p. m.:  
sin- * 9-41300
fan- Q 9-79080
cos. (x — P = 15° 36') ar. comp 0-01630
sin. D “ Sin- L - ’ and the Precctl-
ing formula becomes, when D = 0,
tan. y — cos. L tan. x,
agreeing with the formula for a south dial (art. 39).
54. When the dial declines to the east instead of the
west, that the formula may apply, we assume that D is
negative; then sin. D and tan. U will be negative (Alge¬
bra, art. 225) ; and since tan. P =: sin. L tan. D, we
must in the formula make the sign of P negative, and it
will in this case be
cot. L sin. P sin. x
J sin. D cos. (a?+P)
for the afternoon hours.
55. On the whole, we have this formula for the construc¬
tion of all south vertical declining dials.
Let L denote the latitude of the dial,
D the declination, which may be west or east,
x the hour angle from noon (15° to an hour),
y the hour line angle from the meridian line on the
dial.
Find these two auxiliary quantities, viz. an angle P, and
the tangent of an angle Q (of which only the logarithm is
required), such, that
_ sin. L tan. D
tan. P =
tan. (y — 9° 26').
.9-22010
The following table exhibits at one view the elements
of the dial and the hour line angles for its construction:
Given L = 54° 30
D = 36
1 hence i P ^ 30° 36'
0 west. / (log. tan. Q = 9-70080
Hours.
IX. a. m.
X.
XL
XII.
I. p.m.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
vir.
VIII.
45°
30
15
0
15
30
45
60
75
90
105
120
x + P-
75° 36'
60 36
45 36
30 36
P.
15° 36'
0 36
14 24
30 24
44 24
59 24
74 24
89 24
y the hour angle.
60° 21'
32 10
12 52
0 0
9 26
17 10
24 17
31 34
39 52
50 30
65 44
88 52
57. If the hour lines of this dial were traced on a trans¬
parent plane and extended, and if the style were produ¬
ced through the dial, the reverse would show a north dial
declining eastward 36°.
Ex. 2. Suppose a vertical south dial decline east 49°
in the latitude 51° 30'; to determine the hour line angles.
(See fig. 4 of Plate CLXXXVII.)
In this case L =: 51° 30'; D = 49° east. We now ap¬
ply formula /3 of (5). The data of the dial, the constants,
and hour line angles, are exhibited in the following table:—
Given L = 51° 30'
D = 49 0 east
• }
hence
f P = 42°
(log. tan. Q, = 9-84834.
Hours.
III. a.m.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XL
XII.
I.p.m.
II.
135°
120
105
90
75
60
45
30
15
0
15
30
93°
78
63
48
33
18
3
12
27
42
x + P.
57
72
y-
95° 59'
71 12
56 19
46 5
39 5
32 42
26 32
19 49
11 35
0 0
18 32
48 47
In the calculation for the hour line angle of III. a. m.
the cosine of a: — P = 93° is negative; this makes the
sign of y negative, and therefore y an angle between 90°
and 180°. f i ,
58. If this dial were traced on a plane, and the hour
5 E
tan. Q,
9-79080
770
DIALLING.
Dialling, lines extended and continued through it, and if the style
also were produced through the plane, the reverse would
be a north vertical dial, declining to the westward 49°.
In general, to make a north declining dial, we have only
to make a south declining dial whose declination is the
same and lies the same way, and then turn it upside down,
and it will be the dial required; but the hours must be
numbered the contrary way. Therefore these two exam¬
ples, duly considered, will serve for examples of all declin¬
ing dials.
59. It has been already observed (art. 15), that a dial
on any plane whatever, given in position at a given place,
will be a horizontal dial at some other place, which may
be found. This principle gives another method of con¬
structing a declining vertical dial; for if the latitude of
that place, and also the difference between its longitude
and that of the place where the dial is to show the time, be
found, the former will be the angle which the style must
make with the plane of the dial; that is, the angle it makes
with the substyle; and the latter will give the time the
shadow takes to pass between the twelve o’clock line and
the substyle, from which the angle they contain may be
found. These three elements being known, viz. the lati¬
tude and longitude of the place where the dial would be
horizontal, and the angle contained by the meridian line
and substyle, the construction is reduced to that of a ho¬
rizontal dial.
Let L be the latitude of the place where the dial is to
serve,
D the declination of the dial (art. 47),
l the latitude of the dial, that is, of the place where
it would be horizontal (48),
a the longitude of the dial,
b the angle between the substyle and the vertical.
Then from the above proportions there is got
, cos. L cos. D
sin. I —
cot. a =
tan. b —
rad.
sin. L cot.
D
cot,
rad.
L sin. D
rad.
.(6.)
These formulie, when L and D are known, give the
three elements for the construction of the dial, which is
now reduced to that of a horizontal dial. The hour line
angles must, however, be so found that one of them shall
fall on the vertical or twelve o’clock hour line.
62. Let us again take Ex. 1 of art. 56, and suppose that
a vertical south dial, declining 36° to the west, is to be
constructed, the latitude being 54° 30' (fig. 5 of Plate
CLXXXVII.) In this case L - 54° 30', D = 36°.
Calculation of l, of a, of b.
cos. L 9*76395 sin. L 9*91069 cot. L 9*85327
cos. D 9*90795 cot. D 10*13874 sin. D 9*76922
60. These elements may be found by spherical
metry as follows; let SZNz be the meridian, in which Z
and z are the zenith and nadir, and P, p the poles : Let
SEN be the horizon, S and N being the south and north
points, and E the east; let ZFz be a vertical plane or great
circle of the sphere on which the dial is to be drawn; let
this plane cut the horizon in F, and the plane of the me¬
ridian in the straight line Zz; and let it be cut perpendi¬
cularly in the line Aa by a circle PAp which passes
through the poles. Then Cp or CP will be the axis of
the dial, according as it faces the south or the north Cz
or CZ the twelve o’clock hour line, and La or CA the
substyle (art. 48). , j ^ * t>*7
In the spherical triangle ZPA, right angled at A, PZ,
the complement of the latitude of the place where the dial
is to show time is given; so also is the angle PZ A, for it
is measured by FZ, the arc of the horizon of which the
complement is the declination of the dial (art. 47) , rom
these, AP, the measure of the angle contained by 1 C the
axis, and AC the substyle, that is, the latitude of the dial,
(art. 48), also AZ, the measure ot the angle contained
by the substyle AC and the vertical or twelve o clock
hour line, lastly, the angle ZPA, the difference of longitude
of the planes ZPC, APC (art. 73), may be all found.
61. By the principles of spherics (see Spherical Iri-
gonometry), .
rad. : sin. PZ ~ sin. Z : sin. A1 ;
rad. : cos. PZ z= tan. Z : cot. P;
rad. : tan. PZ zz cos. Z : tan. AZ.
sin b 9*67190 cot. 10*04943 tan. b 9*62249
/ = 28° P a — 41° 45' b — 22° 45'
The construction of our south declining dial for latitude
54° 30' is now reduced to that of a horizontal dial for la¬
titude 28° 1'; for the sake of brevity, let us call the for¬
mer place A and the latter B. The earliest hour that can
be shown at A, on the dial, is about IX. a. m. that is, 45°
of an hour angle from noon. Now when it is 45° from
noon at A, because of the difference of longitude, it will
be 45° + a = 86° 45' at B ; the hour line angle with the
meridian corresponding to this will, by the formula for a
horizontal dial, be found by this proportion :
rad     10*00000
to sin. latitude (28° P)    9*67191
so is tan. hour angle from noon (86° 45') 11*24577
to tan. hour line angle with meridian (83° 6')... 10*91768
Here we have found that at the place B, when it is nine
in the morning at A, the hour line will make with the me¬
ridian line there an angle of 83° 6'; this is the angle
which the hour line of IX. at A will make with the substyle.
In the same manner may the angles which the remaining
hour lines on the dial make with the substyle be found.
The whole are shown in this table.
Hours
at A.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
I.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
VIII.
Hour Angles
at B.
86° 45'
71 45
56 45
41 45
26 45
11 45
Substyle.
3 15
18 15
33 15
48 15
63 15
78 15
Hour Line
Angles with
Meridian at B.
83° 6'
54 56’
35 37
22 45
13 19
5 35
1 32
8 49
17 7
27 45
42 59
66 7
Hour Line
Angles with
Meridian at A.
60° 2P
32 11
12 52
0 0
9 26
17 10
24 17
31 34
39 52
50 30
65 44
88 52
A
ling.
771
its greatest distance on opposite sides of the meridian ; but Dialling,
one observed maximum distance, and the computed devi¬
ation in azimuth, would serve to find the meridian at any
time. J
The time of the meridian passage of the pole star on any
day of the year may be found as taught in works on astro¬
nomy. At this time, as shown by a watch, two plumb-lines
may be placed in the meridian, or one, and the corner inter¬
section of two walls truly perpendicular instead of an¬
other. Great accuracy in the time of the observation is
not required, the motion of the star in azimuth being only
7 minutes of a degree in ten minutes of time at London.
67. A meridian line may be traced by observing when
two stars which have the same right ascension, or which
differ in right ascension by twelve hours, come into the
same vertical plane; for then they are both in the meri¬
dian.
The pole star and the star g (the first of the three in
the tail) of the great bear have nearly this relative posi¬
tion. On the 1st of January 1834, their mean right ascen¬
sion, as given in our table of the places of the fixed stars
(Astronomy), will be,
Hours. Min. Sec.
g Ursae Majoris 12 46 41
Polaris  1 0 34
dial
The angles which the hour lines make with the verti¬
cal or meridian line at A are found from the like angles
at B, by taking the difference between them and the angle
b — 22° 45' for all those on one side of the substyle, and
the sum of each and that angle when they lie on the other
side. The agreement of the results in this table with those
in article 56 will appear by inspection.
To trace a Meridian Line on any Plane.
63. In constructing a dial it is always necessary to de¬
termine the line in which the plane of the meridian meets
the plane of the dial. On an assumed point in the me¬
ridian line as a centre describe several concentric circles
with any distances in the compasses: at this point fix a
wire truly perpendicular to the plane, and of such a length
that when the sun shines its shadow shall extend beyond
the circles. Watch now the instant when the extremity
of the shadow exactly reaches some one of the circles in
the forenoon, and mark the point in which it crosses the
circle. In the afternoon, mark in like manner the point
in which it again crosses the same circle : and any point
that is equally distant from the two points so determined
will be in a meridian line passing through the centre of
the circle, which may now be drawn. By a like attention
to the path of the extremity of the shadow when it crosses
the other circles, points may be found in a meridian line
passing through their common centre ; and a mean position
of all the meridian lines thus found will be sufficiently ac¬
curate for a dial.
The theory of this method is sufficiently obvious. At
equal intervals of time each way from noon, the shadow is
nearly of the same length, and makes nearly equal angles
with the meridian line ; the deviation from absolute equa¬
lity arises chiefly from the continual change in the sun’s
declination. This, however, is but little in the course of a
day near the solstices. Accordingly, greater accuracy will
be obtained about midsummer or midwinter than nearer
the equinoxes.
64. A good compass will give an approximation to the
true position of the meridian ; but the variation, which is
not the same at all places and at all times, must be known.
In 1823 it was about 24° KX west at London, and in the
same year 27° 48' west at Edinburgh. If the direction of
the meridian be known at one place, the variation may be
there determined; and thence the direction of the meri¬
dian at another place not very distant may be found.
65. If a good watch be set to true time, or its deviation
from it be found, by taking equal altitudes of the sun with a
sextant, or by a single altitude, or an}’ other astronomical
observation, a dial may thereby be set truly in the meridian.
66. The pole star is distant from the pole about 1° 36';
hence, knowing the latitude, its greater azimuth may be
found. At London its greatest deviation from the me¬
ridian either way is about 2° 34' in azimuth. If now two
plummets be suspended at some distance from each other,
and in such a position that the pole star may appear in the
same plane with them, that plane will be nearly in the me¬
ridian. If one of the plummets be moveable, and it be
shifted, following the change of position in the star, the
two extreme positions of the plumb-line will, with the
other plummet, determine two vertical planes, which de¬
viate equally from the meridian in opposite directions.
If lines were now traced on a horizontal plane in the
directions of the vertical planes thus found, these would
form with the meridian line sought equal angles on op¬
posite sides of it, and the meridian would be found by
bisecting the angle they contain. The pole star comes to
the meridian about noon and midnight in the beginning of
October. It may then be seen twice in the same night at
11 46 7
The difference from twelve hours is about forty-six mi¬
nutes of time. By the revolution of the heavens the star s
comes into the meridian under the pole; but the pole star
is not then exactly in the meridian. Afterwards they
come into the same vertical, and then the pole star is
very near the meridian, and, for finding a meridian line,
may be considered as exactly so. The azimuth of the
pole star, at the instant when the stars are in the same
vertical, may be found by calculation, and the approximate
meridian thereby corrected.
There are other pairs of stars which come into the me¬
ridian nearly at the same time. The stars /3 Draconis and
a Ophiuchi are such. The stars <3 of the lesser bear, and
a of the lyre, are also well adapted to the end in view, in
latitudes exceeding the polar distance of the most remote
star, which is about 51L°.
68. In whatever way a meridian line has been found on
a horizontal plane, two plummets hung over it, or so that
their lines may pass through it, will indicate the position
of the plane of the meridian in space. The line in which
it cuts any other plane, as a vertical wall not far from the
meridian line, may be found by placing the eye in the
meridional plane, with the plummets between it and the
wall, and noting points on the wall which their lines cover
from the eye. The ingenious diallist may now, with a lit¬
tle dexterity in practical geometry, fix the style of his dial
in the wall or other plane, with its edge in the meridian
plane, and making with a vertical line the proper angle, so
that it may point to the pole. A perpendicular drawn now
from the end of the style on the plane, will give a point
in the substyle, which may now be drawn to the centre.
Thus two important elements in a dial will be determined.
To find the Declination of a Vertical Plane.
69. Place a board in a position truly horizontal, with a
straight side in contact with the plane ; trace a meridian
line on the board; and the angle made by this line and
the line in which the board meets the vertical plane will
be the inclination of the plane to the meridian.
To find the Inclination of any Plane to the Horizon.
70. Extend a surface truly level until it meet the plane;
DIALLING.
the line of their intersection will be horizontal. Draw
perpendiculars to this line on the two planes from any
point in it, and the angle which these form will be the in¬
clination of the plane to the horizon.
If the plane were made to form one side of a temporary
trough into which water was poured, the surface of the
water would accurately mark the horizontal line. The
inclination of the plane to the surface of the water, which
is horizontal, might be found by various expedients too
obvious to require being pointed out.
When the position of the meridian and the axis of the
dial are truly determined, the finding of the inclination
and declination of the plane are problems in practical
geometry which may be resolved by the application of
levels, or plumb-lines and squares, and those simple prin¬
ciples with which most workmen are familiar.
let it meet the horizon in F, and the plane of the meridian Dialling. )ial
in the line H/«; the line POp will be the axis of the diak^-^VNj
and HOA the meridian line. The arch EF between the
east point of the horizon and the plane will be its declina¬
tion, and the spherical angle HFN its inclination to, the
horizon, or the complement of its reclination from the ver¬
tical position.
ii
Inclining Dials.
71. We come now to consider inclining dials, or those
which stand oblique to the horizon, either projecting for¬
wards from the perpendicular, or retiring backwards.
From what has been taught, any dial plane being given in
position, a meridian line may be traced on it; also, at a point
in that line an axis may be fixed pointing to the pole of
the world. Suppose now that in the following figure, OB
is a meridian line drawn on an inclining dial plane, and OC
the axis directed to the pole; the angle COB will be the
complement of the latitude of that place where the dial,
being vertical, would show true time: this, therefore, is
known. If, in addition, we knew the declination ot the dial,
the hour line angles might be found by the formulae of art.
55. Now it is easy to find the declination, for since the
horizon must be perpendicular to the vertical OB, if CB
be drawn in the plane of the meridian, and HB/i in the dial
plane, both perpendicular to OB, these lines will be in the
plane of the horizon of the place where the dial, being ver¬
tical, would show true time ; and the angle CBH will be the
inclination of the plane ot the dial to the meridian, which
is the complement of the declination (art. 47). If now we
make BH = B/t of any length, and join CH, C/i, we have,
by trigonometry, _ (c/, + CH) (c/, _ CH)
Lbil “ ARH-Rf.
COS.
Now, let SEw be the horizon of a place having H for its
zenith, which of course is the place where the dial would
be a vertical dial, and let it cut the dial plane circle iny";
because the two horizons are perpendicular to the meri¬
dian, their intersection will be in the east point in both.
Let L = PN, the given latitude of the place where the
dial is to be made ;
D = FE, the declination of the dial;
R — complement of angle ./Eh, its reclination;
l — the latitude of the place where the dial would
be vertical, which is sought;
d — E/i its declination there, also sought:
then L = Nrc, the measure of the angle FE/.
By spherical trigonometry, in the triangle EF/, right an¬
gled at/,
rad. : sin. EF — sin. F: sin. IS/
rad. : cos. EF = tan. F : cot. E.
From these proportions we find
cos. R sin. D
sin. d —
cot. (/—L) —
rad.
cot. R cos. D
rad.
]
.(7.)
4 BH-BC
Hence, by measuring the lines on a scale of equal parts, the
inclination may be found.
72. Thus, having the position of the meridian, and the
axis, on a dial plane making a given angle with the hori¬
zon, we may find the latitude of the place where it would
be a vertical declining dial, and also its declination at that
place; and with these data the angles which the hour
lines make with the meridian may be found by the formu¬
la for vertical dials, art. 55; or else we may find the lati¬
tude and longitude of that place where the dial would be
horizontal, and construct it by the rules for a horizontal dial.
73. To begin with the first of these methods, let SZNA
be the meridian (see fig. in next column), Pp the axis of the
sphere, Z the zenith of a place where the dial is to stand,
SEN the horizon, S, E, and N, the south, east, and north
points respectively ; also let HFI be a circle of the sphere
on the plane of which the dial is to be constructed, and
Hence the angles d and l are determined; and these being
substituted in the formula of art. 55, instead of L and D,
it will become a general expression for the angle y, which
the shadow makes with the meridian line on the reclining
Example.—To find the hour lines on a south dial plane
FHA, that declines westward 25°, and reclines 15°, in la¬
titude 54° 30'.
Here L = 54° 30', D = 25°, R = 15°.
To find d. f 0 fin(l
rad  10-00000 rad 10-00000
cos. R  9-98494 cot. R 10-57195
sin. D  9-62595 cos. D  9-95728
sin. (rf = 24° 6') 9-61089 cot.(/-L)=16°27'10-52923
Since l — L = 16° 27', and L = 54° 30', therefore
l — 70° 57'. The dial declines to the west; therefore
(art. 55),
tan. Q sin. x
tan. y
tan. y =:
cos. (x + P)
tan. Q sin. x
for the forenoon hour lines,
cos. (# —
In these tan. P =
—^ for the afternoon,
sin. I tan. d
rad.
dialling.
tan. Q =
cot. I sin. P
773
sin. d ’
and hence P = 22° 55’, and log. tan. Q = 9-51759.
The elements of the dial and the results of the calcu¬
lation are exhibited in this table.
Given Z = 70° 51
j _ r } hence -J T —.22
d- 24 6 f (log. tan. Q, = 9-51759.
Hours.
VIII. a. m.
IX.
X.
XL
XII. noon.
I. p. m.
II.
III.
IV.
V.
VI.
VII.
Hour
Angle a?.
60°
45
30
15
0
15
30
45
60
75
90
105
a: + P.
82° 55'
67 55
52 55
37 55
22 55
a; — P.
7° 55'
7 5
22
37
52
67
82
Hour Line
Angles t/.
66° 37'
31 46
15 16
6 10
0
55
9 25
14 6
19 40
27 22
40 13
66 35
The hour lines are to be drawn on the dial, so as to
make with the XII. o’clock hour line the angles in this table.
The dial is represented in fig. 7 of Plate CLXXXVII.
74. To construct the dial by finding the latitude and
longitude of a place where it would be horizontal, we must
find the angle which the substyle makes with the meri¬
dian, and also the latitude and longitude of the plane.
Resuming the figure of art. 73, let a great circle pass¬
ing through the pole, and perpendicular to the plane of the
dial, meet it in the line OA; this will be the substyle,
and AOH the angle which it makes with the meridian
or XII. o’clock hour line; AOP the angle which the axis
makes with the plane of the dial, and the spherical angle
APH its difference of longitude.
In the spherical triangle AHP right-angled at A,
AHP =f/is is measured by the arc fs ; but this arc is the
complement of the arc fE, which we have denoted by d,
therefore the angle AHP is the complement of d. Again,
the arc HP is the complement of the arc En, which was
expressed by 1. Now formulae have been given (in the
preceding article) for the computation of d and l, there¬
fore the angle AHP and the side HP of the spherical
triangle maybe considered as known. The three remain¬
ing parts of the triangle may be found by spherical trigo¬
nometry by these proportions,
rad. : cos. H — tan. PH : tan. AH;
rad. : sin. H = sin. PH : sin. AP ;
rad. : tan. H = cos. PH : cot. P.
By substituting the symbols d and l in these proportions,
they give
tan. AH (the angle made by the"! _ sin. d cot. /
substyle and meridian) j ’
sin. AP (the angle made by the^ _ cos, d cos. I
axis and substyle)  j — rad. ’
^ cot. d sin. I
cot. P (the dif. of long.)   =  .
These formulae, applied to the example of last article,
give
angle made by substyle and meridian — 8° 1';
angle made by axis and substyle = 17° 20';
diff. of longitude of dial plane 25° 20' = lh. 41^m.
The dial may now be constructed as horizontal, and
for latitude 17° 20'; and since the meridian line lies to
the east of the XII. o’clock line, the hour lines of 2h. 41^m.,
&c., reckoned from the substyle of the dial, must Dialling.
be found, and made the hour lines of XL, X., &c. in the '  —
forenoon. Also, the hour line of 411™ mug,. ke made the
hour line of I. The hour line of II. will be on the other
side of the substyle, and will correspond to 18#m., that of
HI. to lh. 18§™., and so on. 3
Of the Time when the Sun begins or ceases to shine on a
Dial on a given Day.
75. The solution of this problem is wanted, that it may
be known what hours should be inscribed on a dial. It
has various cases; but as all are to be resolved on the
same principles, it will be sufficient if we consider one.
Retaining the construction of the fig. of art. 73, let
PI be the hour circle passing through the sun when he is
in the plane of the dial on a given day. In the spherical
triangle HAP, we have found AP, the measure of the
angle contained by the axis and substyle; and HPA, the
difference of longitude. Again, in the spherical triangle
IAP, right-angled at A, besides AP, there is known IP,
the sun’s distance from the pole on the given day. Hence
the angle IPA may be found by this proportion:
tan. PI : tan. PA = rad. : cos. API.
The angle API, expressed in time, is half the period the
sun shines on the plane; and the hour angle HPI, in
time, is the interval between noon and the sun’s leaving
the plane.
76. Taking the dial constructed in art. 73 as an ex¬
ample, it will be found that when the sun is in the north¬
ern tropic, that is, when PI = 66° 30', the angle IPA
= 82° 12'. Now (art. 74), HPA = 25° 20'; therefore,
when the sun ceases to shine on the plane, the horary '
angle IPH from noon is 107° 32' = 7 hours 10 minutes,
the sum of the two arcs; and when he begins to shine on
it, the horary angle is 56° 52' = 3 hours 47 minutes, their
difference. Hence it will be needless to trace on the dial
any hour line earlier than VIII. in the morning, or later
than VIII. in the evening.
Of the Line described by the extremity of a Shadow on a
Plane.
77. Sometimes the line which is the boundary of the
space passed over by the shadow of the axis of a dial on
given days of the year is traced on its plane. The path
of the extremity of the shadow when the sun enters the
different signs of the ecliptic is an elegant appendage to a
dial, and the geometrical problem which determines it is
interesting.
78. Setting aside the considerations of the change in
the sun’s declination, the apparent diurnal path of the sun
in the heavens is,, in the theory of dialling, considered to
be a circle parallel to the equator; therefore any fixed
point that projects a shadow throughout a day may be
considered as the vertex of a cone, the base of which is
the diurnal circle described by the sun on that day, and
the space bounded by the shadow will be the same cone
continued beyond its vertex. Thus it appears that the
shadow of a fixed point in space generates the surface of
a cone whose axis passes through the pole of the world;
and hence the path of the shadow on any plane will be a
conic section, because it is the line in which the surface of
the cone meets the plane.
Let O be the centre of a horizontal dial, OF the axis,
O XII. the meridian line, and OB the shadow of the axis
at any time ; join FB, draw FA perpendicular to O XIL, and
AD perpendicular to OB, meeting OB in D; and join FD.
Because FA is perpendicular to the plane BO XIL the
plane of the triangle FAD is perpendicular to that plane.
Now, by construction, BD is perpendicular to their com¬
mon section DA, therefore it is perpendicular to the plane
DIALLING.
Dialline
of the triangle FAD, and consequently FD is perpendicu¬
lar to OB.
Let a — OF the length of the axis;
r — OB the length of its shadow;
f the angle BOA contained by the shadow
v — | and the meridian ;
_ f the angle FOB contained by the shadow
~ — ) and the axis ;
L = the angle FOA, the latitude;
D — the angle OFB, the sun’s polar distance;
in the triangles ODF, ODA, right-angled at D,
OD : OF = cos. FOD : rad.
OA ; OD = rad. : cos. AOD,
therefore O A : OF = cos. FOD : cos. AOD;
but in the triangle OAF,
OA : OF = cos. FOA : rad.
therefore cos. FOA : rad. — cos. FOD : cos. AOD.
From the triangle FOB we get this other proportion,
sin. (F + O) or sin. B : sin. F = OF : OB.
The last two proportions in symbols are
cos. L : rad. = cos. v : cos. y,
sin. (D + v) : sin. D = a : r.
By the first proportion, we may determine v from y, the
angle the shadow makes with the meridian; and by the
second we get r, the length of the shadow. We may also
express its length by the hour angle from noon ; for if we
put a; to denote that angle, then (art. 23),
rad. : sin. L = tan. x : tan. y.
From the first and last of these three proportions, it
is easy to infer, by spherical trigonometry, that the arcs
L and y are the sides of a right-angled spherical triangle,
of which v is the hypotenuse, and that x is the angle op¬
posite the side y ; hence it follows that
cos. x : tan. L = rad. : tan. v.
To determine the length of the shadow, we have now
these formulae,
rad. tan. L
tan. v — ; 
cos. L cos. y -f- cot. D V 1 — cos.2 L cos.2 y
This is the polar equation of the line which limits the
shadow ; it may also have this form,
a — r cos. L cos. y — cot. D V rl — r2 cos.2 L cos.2 y.
Supposing now t and u to be rectangular co-ordinates,
which have their origin at O ; we have t = r cos. y, and
r2 = £2 m2 ; therefore, by substitution, and taking the
squares of both sides, we find
(cot.2 D sin.2 L — cos.2 L) <2 + 2 atcos. LI _ n
+ m2 cot.2 D — a2 J ’
an expression which by the calculus of sines may be trans¬
formed to
*2 sin. (D + L) sin. (D — L) — 2 a £ cos. L sin.2 D ) _ n
— ul cos.2 D + a2 sin.2 D j
This is the equation of the line described by the sha¬
dow referred to axes perpendicular to each other ; it con¬
tains the first and second powers of the co-ordinates and
constants, therefore the line is, in general, a conic section.
80. If L = D, then sin. (L — D) — 0. In this case
the term which contains & vanishes, and the remaining
terms indicate that the curve is a parabola.
If L is greater than D, so that the sine of D — L is
negative, the equation belongs to an ellipse; but if L be
less than D, the equation belongs to a hyperbola. In each
case the meridian line is the transverse axis of the curve.
The path of the shadow is an ellipse at any place within
the polar circle on the days when the sun does not set;
it is a parabola at that place on the day that the sun just
touches the horizon at midnight; it is a straight line at
all places of the earth on the equinoctial days; and in
every other case it is a hyperbola.
81. The points in which the curve crosses its axis may
be found from its polar equation by making w = 0, and
u — 180°. If / and r" denote the distances from the cen-
, , a sin. D «sin. D
tre, when m = 0, then i* — —Tyr-j-y-:; r  —-pr—y\'
sin.(P + L) sm.(D—L)
The first of these is the length of the shadow at noon.
The vertices of the curve lie on the same side of the cen¬
tre of the dial when it is a hyperbola, but on opposite sides
when it is an ellipse. The other elements of the curve
may be found in the same way, and the curve may be
described as a conic section. In practice it will however
be sufficient to find the points in which the curve crosses
the hour lines of the dial, and then trace the curve through
them by hand. The intersection of the curve and any
hour line may be found by this construction.
cos. v
COS. X
_ cos. L cos. y
rad.
a sin. D
r —
.(2)
.(3)
sin. (D + ’
By these, and the formulae
sin. L tan. x
—^A. ’
the position of the shadow, and its length, may be found
at any time on any given day ; the sun’s declination being
taken from the table which concludes this article.
79. It has been shown (art. 78) generally, that the
line described by the shadow is a conic section: the for¬
mulae just found serve to determine its nature in any given
case.
By the calculus of sines (Algebra, art. 239), sin. (D + ^)
“ sin. D cos.v + cos. D sin. v; now sin. v— \/(i cos.2 ?i),
therefore,from formulae (2) and (3), putting rad.=1, we have
XII
Let O be the centre of the dial, and O XII. the meri¬
dian line. Take any two lines, OM, ON, in the propor¬
tion of the cosine of the latitude to radius; and about O
as a centre, with these distances, describe circles. Take
OF in the meridian line equal to the axis of the dial, and
make the angle OFH equal to the sun s distance from the
Am
IrJlitig
dial
pole. Let K be the intersection of any hour line and the
lesser circle. Draw KL perpendicular to the meridian,
meeting the greater circle in G. Draw OG, meeting FH
in H. In the hour line OY, take OB equal to OHf and
B is the point in which the hour line meets the path of
the shadow.
For, by trigonometry,
OG : OK = sin. OKL: sin. OGL = cos. KOL: cos. GOL;
that is, because KOL = YOL =
rad. : cos. L = cos. y : cos. HOL.
Hence the angle HOL = v (formula 2 of art. 78); now
HFO = D, and OF = a, and sin. H : sin. F = OF : OH
that is, sin. (D + v) : sin. D = a : OH ;
therefore OH = OB is the length of the shadow (for¬
mula 3).
Whatever has been shown regarding the shadow of a
horizontal dial, will apply to any dial whatever, if L be
put for the latitude of the place where the dial would be
horizontal, and the substyle be taken for the meridian line.
Dials with variable Centres.
82. Dials of this kind are not common; yet they are
deserving of attention, because of the elegance of their
geometrical theory. Their construction depends on this
principle.
It is possible to determine a system of hour points on a
plane, such, that if a style be placed in the plane of the meri¬
dian at certain points, to be found, corresponding to the days
of the year, and making with the horizon any given angle,
its shadow shall pass through the hour points at the times they
indicate, and in this way show the time of the day.
83. To establish the truth of this proposition, the fol¬
lowing problem is to be resolved.
Having given the sun’s declination, the time from noon,
and the latitude of a place; to find the angle which the
shadow of a style in the plane of the meridian, and in¬
clined at a given angle, makes with the meridian line on
a horizontal plane.
Let LMN be the horizon, LPN the meridian, P the
pole, CQ the style, which, being produced, meets the ce¬
lestial meridian in Q. Let S be the sun in the hour circle
PS, and MSQA a great circle passing through S and Q,
and cutting the horizon in the line MCA.
Put L = PN, the given latitude ;
E = QN, the given elevation of the style;
D = PS, the sun’s distance from the pole;
x =. QPS, the hour angle;
z — the angle LQM;
y = angle ACN, or arc LM, which is to be found.
In the spherical triangle PSQ, by spherics,
cot. PS. sin. PQ = cot. Q sin. P + cos. PQ cos. P;
and in the spherical triangle QLM, right-angled at L,
cot. LQM = cot. LM sin. QL.
Now, in the first of these formulae,
ling.
PS=90° —D, PQ=E —L, Q=180»—s, V=x;
and in the second,
LQM=2:, LM=y, sin. QL=sin. QN=sin. E;
thererore, by substituting the symbols in the formulae, we
have
tan. D sin. ( E—L)=—cot. z sin. *+cos.(E—L)cos. *; (1.)
cot. z = cot. y sin. E (2.)
Let the value of cot. z be substituted instead of it in
the first equation, then, deducing from the result the
value of cot. y, we find
COk y _ cos. (E L) cos, x — sin. (E — L) tan. D
sin. E sin. x
This formula gives the value of y, the angle made by
the shadow and the meridian of the dial, which was re¬
quired.
84. Fig. 13 of Plate CLXXXVII. represents a dial with
a moveable centre, O XII. being the meridian line, and the
hour points as shown in the figure. Let C be the vari¬
able centre, which is the position of the bottom of the style
on any given day, A any one of the hour points, and AC
the position of the shadow at that hour on the given
day; then, x denoting the hour angle from noon, and y
the hour line angle AC XII., the preceding formula gives
the value of y. Draw AB perpendicular to the meridian,
put OB = t, AB — u,t and u being the co-ordinates of an
hour point; and put r for OC, the variable distance of the
bottom of the style from the fixed point C in the plane of the
dial; then Be = £ — r.
Be
And because cot. C= tr-v, that is,
BA
therefore
t — r __ cos. (E — L)cos. a? — sin. (E — L) tan. O
u sin. E sin. x
and hence, deducing the value of r,
rt sin. E sin. x — u cos. (E — L) cos. x
r — J sin. E sin. x
+ u sin. (E — L) tan. D
sin. E sin. x
c, u
By the nature of the dial, the position of the style must
depend entirely on the sun’s declination, and be altogether
independent of the hour of the day. These conditions will
be satisfied if we make
t sin. E sin. x — u cos. (E — L) cos. a; = 0;
u sin. (E — L)
 :——:   — a, & constant quantity ;
sin. E sin. x J
for by this assumption t and u are independent of D, the
sun’s declination; and r — a tan. D independent of x.
By resolving the equations, we obtain
t — a cot. (E — L) cos. x (1.)
u — a
sin. E
sin. (E — L)
sm. x.
(2.)
r — a tan. D (3.)
These equations express the nature of every dial of this
kind.
85. To construct the dial, we must assume a line of any
convenient length, as a scale on which the co-ordinates
of the hour points may be measured. The values of t and
u are now to be computed by making x — 15° for the
hours of XI. and I.; again, x = 30° for the hours of X.
and II., and so on. A graduated scale must be formed
along the meridian line, proceeding both ways from O,
that point being the position of the style at the equinoxes;
and since it appears from the figure in art. 83, that for
any given hour angle x, the angle y at the variable centre
c ought to increase as the sun approaches the north pole,
the scale of declination for the north side of the equator
776
DIALLING
Dialling, must lie on the north side of O ; and that for the south,
on the opposite side. Lastly, the months and days of the
year ought to be placed on the scale opposite to the de¬
grees of declination to which they correspond.
86. We may investigate, from the equations, the na¬
ture of the curve that is the locus of the dial points, or
which has t and u for rectangular co-ordinates. This will
be obtained by eliminating the angle x.
T \ s'r1, ^
Put m — a cotan. (E — L), n — a
Lambert's Dial.
Diallin
we have now
sin. (E — L) ’
-^-5 + ^5- = cos.2 x + sin.2 x z=. 1-,
m* ur
hence it appears that the locus of the hour points is an el¬
lipse, of which the axes are m and n.
Azimuth or Analemmatic Dial.
87. This dial, represented by fig. 16, Plate CLXXXVII.
is of the kind having a variable centre. Its style is verti¬
cal, therefore, by what has been shown in art. 84, the
equations of the hour points on the dial will be
t — a tan. L. cos. x; u — a sec. L. sin. x; r — a tan. D.
The dimensions of the ellipse which is the locus of the
hour points are these :
m — semiconjugate or merid. axis = a tan. L,
n — semitransverse axis = a sec. L,
Eccentricity = a.
These values of £, u, r, serve to find the hour points by
calculation. They may also be found by this construc¬
tion, fig. 15.
Draw two straight lines Aa, B£», intersecting at right
angles in O ; and in OA, one of these lines, take OD of
any suitable length for the eccentricity of the dial; draw
DB so as to make with DO an angle equal to the latitude
of the place; then CB will be half the lesser axis, and B
the twelve o’clock hour point.
In OD, take OA and Oa each equal to DB ; and Aa
will be the hour points for six o’clock in the morning and
evening.
On O as a centre, with OA and OB as radii, describe
circles, and divide the quadrants in the same angle, each
into six equal parts. From K, any one of the divisions of
the outer circle, draw KL perpendicular to Oa ; and from
£,the corresponding point in the inner circle, draw AN paral¬
lel to Oa, meeting KL in N; this will be one of the hour
points, and in the same way may all the others be found.
At the point D make angles ODE, ODe, each 23^ de¬
grees, the sun’s greatest declination ; and E, e shall be the
positions of the bottom of the style at the solstices, that of
the summer being on the north of O, the middle bf the
dial. Describe a circle with DO as a radius, and find the
tangents of the series of arcs 1°, 2°, 3°, &c. of that circle,
and lay them down as a scale from O to E and e, on each
side. Find, in the tables which conclude this article, the
sun’s declination on the first day of every month, and
mark the beginning of the month on the scale E opposite
to its Corresponding degree of declination. As many of
the intermediate days may in like manner be laid down
as there is room for.
The style must now, by some contrivance, be placed
over the scale, so as to admit of sliding along it, and being
set to any day, and the dial is finished.
If a dial of this kind be united to a horizontal dial, as
they can only show the same hour when their meridian
lines are in their true position, the compound dial may
be set to show time without the help of a compass or me¬
ridian line.
88. This is a particular case of the class of dials with
a variable centre. It was given by M. Lambert in the
Berlin Ephemerides for 1777.
It has been found (art. 86), that L being put to denote
the latitude, and E the angle which the style is to make
with the meridian line, the semiaxes of the ellipse, which
is the locus of the hour points, are
T. a sin. E
a cotan. (E — L), ——7^—y-t.
v 7 sin. (E—L)
Now these will be equal, if the cosine of E — L be equal
to the sine of E, that is, if E — L + E =: 90°, or E =1 A
(90 + L). When E, the elevation of the style, has this
value, the hour points are in the circumference of a circle.
At London E would be 70° 45'.
Lambert’s dial may be constructed geometrically thus :
(see fig. 14 of Plate CLXXXVIII.)
Take a straight line OD of any length, and draw a per¬
pendicular OB. At the point D, make the angle ODB
equal to half the sum of 90° and the latitude of the place,
and OB will be the radius of the dial.
Describe a circle about O as a centre, with the radius
OB, and divide the quadrants each into six equal parts,
and the points of division will be the hour points on the
dial.
Draw the lines DE, De, and make a scale of tangents
of the sun’s declination from O to E and e, and against
the divisions of the scale write the days of the month ex¬
actly as directed in the Analemmatic dial. Also place
the style over the meridian, so that it may be adjusted
to the time of the year, and make with the meridian
line an angle equal to BDO, and the dial v/ill be con¬
structed.
Note.—The style must be on the north or south of the
point O, according as the sun is on the north or south
side of the equator.
In these dials, instead of making the style moveable, it
might be fixed, and different sets of hour points found for
different days of the year. This, however, would make
the construction laborious.
Thus far we have given the theory of the dials, along
with their construction. In what follows, we shall, for the
sake of brevity, simply give their construction. In gene¬
ral, the theory is just an application of what has been al¬
ready delivered.
Portable Dial on a Card.
89. This dial, represented by fig. 11, Plate CLXXXV.
has been called the Capuchin, because of a supposed re¬
semblance it has to the head of a capuchin friar with his
cowl inverted. It may be constructed as follows:
Draw a straight line ACB parallel to the top of the
card (fig. 10), and another DCE bisecting the former
at right angles; on C as a centre, with any convenient
radius CA, describe a semicircle, and divide it into twelve
equal parts, at the points r, s, t, u, v, &c. From the points
r, s, t, &c. draw lines perpendicular to ACB, the diameter
of the circle, and these will be the hour lines, viz. the line
through r will be the hour line of XI. I. (see fig. 11), that
through s the hour line of X. II. &c., the hour of XII. noon
being at A. The half hours and quarters may also be laid
down by subdivision. At A, the extremity of the diame¬
ter, draw a line AD, making with AC an angle equal to
the latitude of the place, and meeting the six o’clock line
in D, through which draw a line FDG at right angles to
AD. At the point A, draw lines AF, AG, to make with AD,
on opposite sides, angles of 23^ degrees, the sun s greatest
DiiUng.
dialling.
these determine the line FDG, the scale of
declination
months. Describe a semicircle on FG as a diameter • di-
Yide it into six equal parts at m, n, o, p, q, and draw’^A,
nl, oD, pk, qi perpendicular to FG; these points are the
centres of the arcs of the signs.
Dial on a Cylinder.
91. This dial is represented by fig. 4, Plate CLXXXVL
It shows the hour of the day, the sun’s place in the eclip¬
tic, and his altitude at the time of observation. The dial
and, laying a ruler over A, and the degree of each day on
the scale RT, mark the point in which the ruler meets the
line FG, thereby forming the scale for the months and
days of the year, as shown in fig. 11 (between A and
B), observing that the days from 21st of March to 23d
altitude, in whole degrees, from sunrise to sunset, on all
the days of the year.
Divide AB, CD, the top and bottom sides of the rect-
angle, into twelve equal parts for the signs of the ecliptic,
and draw straight lines, joining the points of division, on
September must be on the right hand side of D, the mid- which, at the bottom, place the characters of the signs, as
a r> • ^ iC.a e* a sl1.t through the card along the line in the figure. The twelve divisions should be subdivided
AB in fig. 11, corresponding to FG in fig. 10, and through by parallel lines into halves, and, if there be room, into
it put a thread having a bead c sliding along it, and a quarters.
plummet D at one end, which may hang freely along the At the top of the rectangle make a scale of the months
face of the dial when it is held vertically; and make a and days of the year, so as that the division of the scale
knot on the thread at the back of the dial, so that it may for each day may stand over the division for the sun’s
not be drawn through the slit. Draw the shadow line place on that day in the scale of signs. The sun’s place
(fig. 11) parallel to the top of the card, and on ab, a part in the ecliptic each day of the year 1830, the second after
of it, form the rectangle abed for the gnomon. Cut the leap year, is given at the end of this article, and may serve
card through, along the three sides ba, ad, dc of the rect- for this scale. Compute the sun’s altitude for every hour
angle, and partly through along be, the fourth, on the in the latitude of the place, when he is in the beginning
back of the card, so as to admit of the rectangle turning and middle of each sign, and in the upright parallel lines
on be as a hinge. The hours, the scale of months, and scale make marks for these computed altitudes among the pa-
of declinations, being drawn on the card, as shown in fig. rallels of altitude, reckoning them downward according
11, the dial will be finished. to the order of the numeral figures set to them along the
90. lo rectify the dial, set the thread in the slit AB side BD, answering to the divisions of the quadrant on
against the day in the month, and stretch it over the point the opposite side; and through these marks draw the
where the circles of the signs meet at XII.; then slide the curve hour lines, and set the hours to them, as in the
bead c along the thread until it be on that point, and the figure, reckoning the forenoon hours downwards, and the
dial is rectified. afternoon hours upwards. The sun’s altitude should also
To find the hour of the day, raise the gnomon by turn- be computed for the half hours; as to the quarter hour
mg it about the line be, so that when the card is held ver- points, they may be put nearly in their proper place by
tically with its edge towards the sun, the side ab of the estimation with the eye.
gnomon may cast a shadow along the shadow line ; then, The scales and hour lines being constructed, the part of
the thread being brought into a vertical line, passing along the paper on which the quadrant was drawn is to be cut
the face of the card by the weight of the plummet, the off along the line AC, and that on the opposite side along
hour line on which the bead falls indicates the time of the
day before or after noon.
Note. About noon the hour will be shown with uncer¬
tainty; this is an inconvenience inseparable from all dials
that show the hour by the sun’s altitude.
To find the time of sun rising and setting: Having rec-
BD. The superfluous parts at the top and bottom are
also to be removed, and it will be fit for being pasted
round the cylinder.
The cylinder, reduced in size, is represented by ABCD,
fig. 4. It should be hollow, to hold the style DEe when
it is not used. The crooked end of the style is put into a
tified the dial for the given day, move the thread, about hole in the top AD of the cylinder, which fits on it tight-
j • Ai i *. . m •. i i . .i i t • * i   j  v. _ x j 3 i:i 1* 1   ro
its end in the slit until it be parallel to the hour lines; it
will then cut the time of sun rising among the forenoon
hours, and of setting among those of the afternoon.
To find the sun’s declination : Stretch the thread from
the day of the month over the hour point at XII., and it
will indicate the declination on the graduated arch.
To find on what days the sun enters the signs: When
the bead, as above rectified, moves along any one of the
arcs of the signs, the sun enters that sign on the day
pointed out by the thread on the scale of months.
VOL. VII.
ly, and may be turned round, like the lid of a paper snuff¬
box. The style must stand straight out, perpendicular to
the side of the cylinder, just over the line AB, round the
top from which the parallels of the sun’s altitude are
reckoned; and the length of the style, projecting beyond
the cylinder, must be exactly equal to Aa, the radius of
the quadrant in fig. 5.
To use the dial, place the base of the cylinder on a level
table where the sun shines, and turn the top round till the
style stand directly over the day of the month; then turn
5 F
On F and G as centres thrrmo-L A u 3 a‘L“uue uie time ot observation. I he dial
AH, AO, for the tropics ’of Capricorn and Cancer The *s instructed by traci»g the lines on a rectangular piece
former of which is marked m> and the latter o- ffip- i n li ^a^e' Tan Pa®ting 11 °n the surface of the cy-
also on h and i as centres fhrnno-L A T ^ U) ; 1T1Tnder’ „The lmes may be traced bJ the following rules.
AI, AN • the one will be the arc of the sfeTsIT ^ 3108 f°rmed °n ?aper Hi rectangle ABDC> of such a size
and Sagitarius / ; and the oTer he ar !Tf Slni n AC^ ^ ^"^’iitS 0pP°Site sIdeS
, T & ^ j i i , 01 Gemini n AC, BD, may lust coincide; produce the side BA tn n
describe0tlm arcs AK^and^W ’one thr°U^ A’ an^ convenient distance, and on a as a centre, with the
describe the arcs AK and AM, one for the signs Pisces distance aA, describe the quadrantal arc AE, and divide
K and Scorpio tn, and the other for Taurus « and it into ninety equal parts foV degrees; draw Ibes Lm the
Virgo a*; and lastly, on D as a centre, through A, de- centre through as many division's of the quadrant asThere
scribe the arc AL for the signs Aries ^ and Libra =*. are degrees of the sun’s altitude in the longest day of the
On A as a centre, with any convenient radius, describe an year at noon of the place for which the dial is to serve!
A Tf- TTTi g T ? T"68 iAF’ ^G’ and divide wb*cb at London is 62°, and continue these lines until they
each half into 23 equal parts for the scale of the sun’s meet the tangent line AC. From the points of meeting
declination. Find from the tables which conclude this ar- draw lines across the rectangle parallel to AB, as shown
tide the sun s dechnation for every filth day of the year, in the figure, and these will be the parallels of the sun’s
1
778
DIALLING.
Dialling, the cylinder about on the table till the shadow falls on it
parallel to those upright lines which divide the signs, that
is, till the shadow be parallel to the (supposed) axis of the
cylinder; and then the point or lowest shadow will fall
upon the time of the day among the curve hour lines, and
will show the sun’s altitude at that time, among the cross
parallels of his altitude which go round the cylinder; at
the same time it will indicate the sign of the ecliptic in
which the sun is.
The dial may also, when used, be suspended by the
ring F in its top. Dials ot this kind, of rather rude con¬
struction, are sometimes used by the rural population in
France. . ,
92. The construction of this dial requires that the sun s
altitude be found for any given hour of the day, knowing
the latitude of the place and the sun s declination.
Let D be the sun’s declination,
L the latitude,
x the hour angle at the pole,
z the sun’s altitude.
Then 90° — D, 90° —L, 90° —z, are the three sides
of a spherical triangle, and a: is the angle opposite to the
last of these sides; hence, by spherics,
sin. z = sin. L sin. D + cos. L cos. D cos. a; (L)
This is equivalent to
sin. z — sin. L sin. D (1 + cot. L cos. D cos. x) (2.)
From this formula, by giving different values to x, the
hour from noon, there will be found corresponding values
of z, the sun’s altitude.
Ex. To find the sun’s altitude at ten in the forenoon or
two in the afternoon on the 21st of May at London, in la¬
titude 51° 31', the sun then nearly entering the sign r/e-
mini. In this case, from the table at the end, D = 20°,
8', we have also L = 51° 31', and a; = 2h =: 30°.
cot. L 9-90035 sin. L 9-89364
cot. D 10-43580 sin. D 9-53682
cos. x 9-93753 2-878 0-45909
1- 878 0-27368 sin. z 9-88955
2- 878 — 1 + cot. L cot. D cos. a; z = 50° 51'.
The formula supposes that the latitude and declination
are of the same name, that is, both north or both south.
When one is north and the other south, then the hist teim
will be negative, and we have for this case
sin. z = sin. L sin. D (cot. L cos. D. cos. x — 1)....(3);
and when the hour angle exceeds 90°, it must be remem¬
bered that cos. aMs a negative quantity, so that the ex¬
pression in which it occurs is subtractive.
Ring Dial.
93. This kind of dial is shown in figure 7. It is formed
of a brass ring or rim, usually about two inches in dia¬
meter, and one third of an inch in breadth. In a point
of this rim there is a hole, through which the sun’s light
passes, and forms a lucid speck on the opposite concave
surface, on which the hours of the day are marked.
These divisions are made by describing a circle to re¬
present the ring, and drawing a horizontal choid El ;
with this as a radius describe a quadrant FD, and divide
it into degrees, and through those which mark the sun’s
altitude at every hour of the day, at the time of either equi¬
nox, draw lines from E to the opposite side of the ciicle,
and there put the corresponding figures. Thus for a
place whose latitude is 51° 32', the XII. o’clock line will
pass through 38° 38' the colatitude, and the XL and I.
line through 36° 56', the X. and II. through 32° 36', the
IX. and III. through 26° 5', the VIIL and IV. through
18° 8', and the VII. and V. through 9° 17'. The dial,
thus constructed, would only show time at the equinox ;
but to make it perform the whole year, the hole is made
moveable, and the signs of the ecliptic or the days of the Dialling
month are marked on the convex surface of the ring by v ~
taking ET and E£, on each side of E, equal to twice the
sun’s declination when he enters any particular sign, as
Taurus and Pisces, and there marking the character of
the sign or corresponding month, and so for all the others;
and by these the dial is rectified for the time of the year.
From the figure it appears that E XII. b is equal to FE XII.
or the altitude of the sun in the equinox ; but T XII. E is
equal to the sun’s declination in Taurus, because it is an
angle at the circumference standing on an arc which is
double the declination; therefore T XII. b is equal to the
meridian altitude when the sun enters Taurus, and a ray
passing through the hole at T will mark the XII. o’clock
hour of that day. But this dial will not show the' other
hours exactly, because T III. d exceeds E III. d, the equi¬
noctial hour, by the angle of declination, and the same
holds of the rest. To remedy this defect, the concave
surface of the ring has sometimes been made broader, and
seven circles described upon it, the middle one to repre¬
sent the equinoctial, and the extremes the tropics ; and on
these circles the hours have been marked as shown in a
table of altitudes.
To use the dial, set the moveable hole to the day of the
month, or the degree of the sun’s place in the ecliptic;
then, suspending it by the ring, turn it towards the sun
till his rays point out the hour among the divisions,in the
inside.
Universal or Astronomical Ring Dial.
94. This is represented in figure 6 of Plate CLXXXVI.
It serves to show the time of the day in any part of the
earth, whereas the former is only adapted to a particular
latitude. It consists of two rings or flat circles from two
to six inches in diameter. The outer ring A represents
the meridian of any place. Two of its opposite quadrants
are divided into 90°, serving, the one for north and the
other for south latitude. The inner ring represents the
equator, and turns within the outer on two pivots at the
extremities of a diameter, where the hour XII. is marked.
A thin reglet or bridge goes across the circles, and in its
middle there is an opening, along which there slides a
cursor C, having a small hole in it for the sun to shine
through. The middle of this bridge represents the axis of
the celestial sphere, and its extremities the poles; on one
side of it the signs of the zodiac are drawn, and on the
other the days of the month. A piece, to which a ring H
is fixed, slides along the meridian ; and the dial when used
is suspended by the ring.
In this dial, the divisions laid down on the axis on either
side of the centre are the tangents of the angles of the
sun’s declination, to a radius equal to that of the brass
circle, which represents the equator. Ihese may be laid
down from a scale of equal parts, of which 1000. answer
to the length of the semiaxes from the centre to the equi¬
noctial ring; and then the extreme divisions on the axis
will be at the distance of 434 of these equal parts (the
tangent of 23° 29') from the division at the centre.
To use this dial, place the line marked on the sliding
piece (opposite to the supporting ring) over the degree ot
the latitude of the place, and put the line which crosses
the hole of the cursor to the degree of the sign or to the
day of the month. Turn the inner ring on its pivots, and
put it at right angles to the outer; and suspend the in¬
strument by the ring H, so that the middle of the bridge
(which is the axis of the dial) may be parallel to the axis
of the world; then turn its flat side towards the sun, so
that his rays passing through the little hole in the cur¬
sor may fall exactly on a line drawn round the middle or
the concave surface of the inner ring; and in this posi-
DIAL
Oping. tion the bright
“>■' surface.
spot shows the hour of the day on that
Ihe hour of XII. is not shown by this dial, because the
outer circle, being then in the plane of the meridian, hin¬
ders the sun’s rays from falling on the inner. Nor will it
serve to show the hour on the equinoctial days, because
his rays then pass parallel to the plane of the dial.
Universal Dial on a Cross.
95. This dial, represented by figure 1 of Plate CLXXXVI.
is moveable on a joint C for elevating it to any latitude"
on the quadrant CO 90, as it stands on the horizontal
board A. The arms of the cross stand perpendicularly to
the middle part, and the top of it from a to rc is of equal
length with either of the arms mk, nt.
Having set the board A level, and the line ut (on the
middle of a side of the cross) to the latitude of the place
on the quadrant, and the point N on the compass north
by the needle, allowing for the variation ; the plane of the
cross will then be parallel to the plane of the equator,
and the dial rectified so as to show time.
The morning hours from III. till VI. will be shown by
the upper edge kl of the arm io casting a shadow on a face
of the arm cm ; from VI. to IX. the lower edge i of the
arm io will cast a shadow on the hours of the side oq;
from IX. to XII. noon, the edge ab of the upper part an
will cast a shadow on the arm nf; from XII. to III. in the
afternoon, the edge cd of the top part will cast a shadow
on the hours of the arm Mm ; and from III to VI. the edge
gh will cast a shadow on the hours on the part pu ; and
from VI. to IX. the shadow of the edge ef will show the
time on the top part an.
The breadth of each part ab, ef, Sec. must be so great as
never to let the shadow fall entirely without the part or
arm on which the hours are marked, when the sun is at
his greatest declination from the equator. To determine
the breadth of the sides of the arms which contain the
hours, make an angle ABC (fig. 2) of 23|0, the sun’s great¬
est declination; and in Be take Bd, equal to the intended
length of each arm, from the side of the long middle part,
which is also the length of the top part above the arms,
and draw the perpendicular def.1 Then, as the edges of
the shadow from each arm will be parallel to BA when
the sun’s declination is 23J°, it is plain that if the length
of the shadow be Be?, the least breadth it can have to
keep the edge Be of the shadow ¥>egd from going off the
side of the arm before it comes to its end, must be de or
Brf'; but in order to keep the shadow within the quarter
divisions of the hours when it comes near the end of the
arm, the breadth thereof should be still greater, so as to
be almost doubled, on account of the distance between the
tips of the arms.
To place the hours right on the arms, lay down the
shape and size of the cross abed on paper (fig. 3), and on
« as a centre, with ae as a radius, describe the quadrantal
arc ef. Divide this arc into six equal parts, and through the
divisions draw lines ag, ah, &c. continuing three of them
to the arm ae, which are all that fall on it, and they will
meet the arms in the points through which the hour lines
are to be drawn right across it.
Divide each arm in the same manner, and set the hours
to their px-oper places, as shown in the figure ; each of the
hour spaces should be divided into four equal parts for
the half hours and quarters in the quadrant ef; and
straight lines should be drawn through the division marks
of the quadrant to the arms of the cross, in order to de¬
li I N G. 779
termine the places where the subdivisions of the hours Dialling,
must be marked.
An universal Dial, showing the Hours by a Globe, and by
several Gnomons.
96. The dial is represented in fig. 9, Plate CLXXXVI. It
may be made of a thick square piece of wood or hollow
metal. The sides are cut into semicircular hollows, on
which the hours are placed, the style of each coming out
from its bottom as far as the ends of the hollow projects.
The corners are cut into angles, in the insides of which
the hours are also marked; and the edge at the end of
each side of the angle serves as a style for casting a sha¬
dow on the hours marked on the opposite side. In the
middle of the uppermost plane there is an equinoctial dial,
in the centre of which an upright wire is fixed for casting
a shadow on the hours of that dial, and supporting a small
terrestrial globe on its top. The whole dial stands on a
pillar rising out of a circular base, in which there is a com¬
pass and magnetic needle for placing the meridian style
towards the south. The pillar has a joint with a gradu¬
ated quadrant on it (supposed to be hid from sight under
the dial in its representation) for setting the dial to the
latitude of any given place. The equator of the globe is
divided into twenty-four equal parts, and the hours are
laid down on it: the time of the day may be shown by
these hours when the sun shines on the globe.
To construct the dial: On a square piece of wood or me¬
tal of proper thickness draw the lines ac, bd (fig. 8) at a
distance equal to the intended thickness of the stfeabed;
and in the same manner trace out the form of the three
other styles efgh, iklm, nopq, all directed towards the centre
of the square. On a and b as centres, with such a radius as
will leave sufficient strength of stuff, when the distance KI
is equal to Aa, describe the quadrantal arcs Ac, Bo?. In like
manner, with the same radius describe arcs in all the quad¬
rantal openings, leaving room, however, for the equinoctial
dial in the middle. Divide each quadrant into six equal
parts for as many hours, as in the figure, and subdivide these
for half hours and quarters, numbering the whole eight
quadrants as in the figure. To lay down the hours in the an¬
gular spaces in the corners : On K and I as centres, with a
radius equal to KI, which is equal to Aa, describe the arcs
K^, It, meeting in t. Divide each arc into four equal parts,
and from the centres through the points of division draw
the right lines 13, 14, 15,1 6,17, and K2, Kl, K12, Kll;
and they will meet the sides of the angle where the hours
should be marked. These hour spaces should also be sub¬
divided into quarters. Do the like for the other three an¬
gles, determining in this way the hours shown as in the
figure, in which it will be observed that the dotted lines
which are parallel are all directed to the same hour of
the day. The angular and quadrantal spaces should now
be cut out, quite through the solid material of which the
dial is formed, and the gnomons inserted in their proper
position, observing that these should be as broad as the
dial is thick, and this breadth and thickness such as to
keep the shadows of the gnomons from ever falling quite
out of the hollows, even when the sun’s declination is
greatest. Lastly, construct the equinoctial dial in the mid¬
dle, agreeably to its theory in art. 19, and the dial will be
finished.
To rectify and use the dial: Place it with its base level,
and the gnomons of the quadrants directed to the cardi¬
nal points by means of the compass; then bend the pillar
in the joint, till the axis be inclined to the horizon at an
1 Place dashes (omitted in the engraving) over the letters d and c in the perpendicular to Be, thus making them d', d; and in fig.
o observe that the letter a ought to be over the figure 3 on the adjoining line. Also in fig. 1 write & on the top opposite to c.
780
DIALLING.
Dialling, angle equal to the latitude of the place. The plane of the
v—equinoctial dial will then be parallel to the equator, the
axis of the globe directed to the pole of the heavens ; and
when the sun shines on the dial, the hours will be indi¬
cated by all the parallel edges which cast a shadow, as
well as by the axis of the globe and the globe itself, which
will show to what places of the earth the sun is rising, set¬
ting, and in the meridian.
Universal Mechanical Dial, Plate CLXXXVII. Fig. 11.
96. This is an equinoctial dial, which may be applied to
the construction of a dial on any kind of plane, by a process
requiring no calculation. Suppose, for example, the plane
ABCD is horizontal, and that GEF is the meridian line,
assumed if the plane be moveable, or found if it be fixed.
Place the equinoctial dial H with its axis GI directed to
the pole, or, in the present case, so as to make with the
meridian line an angle equal to the latitude of the place,
with the twelve o’clock hour line over the meridian line.
If now EF, the lower edge of the upright triangular sup¬
port KEF, lie along the meridian, and the edge EK
make with EF an angle equal to the latitude, the dial H
will be in its proper position when its axis GI is parallel
to EK. Supposing now the whole apparatus to be in a
dark place, let a lighted candle be carried round GI, the
axis of the equinoctial dial, and let the position of the sha¬
dow on the horizontal plane be noted when it falls on the
successive hours of the equinoctial dial, then lines from G
through these positions will be the hour lines on the hori¬
zontal dial. In this way a dial may be described on any
plane whatever.
Dials on three different Planes, Plate CLXXXVII. Fig. 12.
97. This combination of dials shows the hour at the same
time on the equinoctial dial IK, the horizontal dial ABC,
and the vertical south dial; the same axis or gnomon
FHG serving all the three. The figure sufficiently ex¬
plains its construction and application. The method of
tracing the hour lines proposed in the preceding article
may be applied to produce the horizontal and south dials
from the equinoctial dial.
Babylonian, Italian, and Jewish Hours.
The dials which have been described in this article are
all intended to show astronomical or apparent time, of
which the hours are equal, if we set aside the equation ot
time. Such are the hours by which we reckon time; but
besides these, there are Babylonian, Italian, and Jewish
hours. . .
The Babylonian hours are reckoned from sun rising to
sun rising, and are twenty-four equal hours, nearly of the
same length as the common hours, only they are differ¬
ently numbered.
The Italian hours begin at sunset, and are numbered to
twenty-four at sunset next day. They also are equal, and
nearly the same as the common hours.
The Jewish hours, otherwise called the old unequal
planetary hours, are reckoned from sunrise ; and the day,
from sunrise to sunset, is divided into twelve equal parts
or hours. The hours of one day, however, will not be
equal to those of another, at least in our climate, because Dialling,
of the inequality of the length of the days.
The older writers on dialling teach how to construct
dials which shall show time according to all these ways of
dividing the day. They are, however, mere matters of
curiosity, and therefore we think it sufficient, in this work,
to have thus briefly noticed them. They are fully explain¬
ed by Emerson in his Dialling; see also Ferguson’s Lec¬
tures.
Table of the Suns Longitude and Declination, and the
Equation of Time, for every day in the year.
The construction of some of the dials which have been
described requires that the sun’s place in the ecliptic, that
is, his longitude reckoned from the beginning of the sign
Aries, and his declination for the different days of the
year, should be known. And in order to convert apparent
time into true time, that is, the time shown by the sun
into the time shown by a good clock or watch going uni¬
formly, the equation of time is wanted for every day of
the year. None of these, however, can be exactly the
same on the same day of every year at any given place.
Thus, at Greenwich, for four succeeding years beginning
with 1820, they were at noon on the first of March as
follows:
Years.
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
Sun’s Longitude.
11 10 52 39
11 10 38 10
11 10 23 38
11 10 8 49
11 10 54 55
Declination.
29 44
35 13
40 43
46 18
28 50
Equation of
Time.
M. S.
12 36-2
12 39-1
12 41-7
12 43-4
12 36-1
There are various reasons why the above three ele¬
ments are not the same on the same day of every year:
the principal one is, because the sun requires nearly six
hours more than 365 days to complete a revolution in the
ecliptic ; and this annual deficiency being compensated
by the intercalary day in every fourth year, after this
interval the elements return nearly, but not exactly, to
the same value on the same day of the year. Our table
corresponds to 1830, the second after leap year. This will
be sufficiently accurate for the construction of dials, and
finding true time by them for a considerable number of
years to come. .
The columns of the table containing the sun s longitude
and declination require no explanation. The numbers in
that for the equation of time have the signs of addition
( + ) and of subtraction (—) annexed to them. Thus the
sign + joined to 3m. 50s., the equation for the first of Ja¬
nuary, is understood to belong to all the days from the
beginning of the year to the 15th of April inclusive, and
to indicate that the equation is to be added to the time
shown by the dial to get true time, or that shown by the
clock. Again, the sign — belongs to all days from 16th
April to 15th June inclusive, and shows that the equation
must be subtracted from the time shown by the dial, and
so on throughout the year.
I A L L I N G.
TABLE showing the Sun's Longitude and Declination, and the Equation of Time, for every day of the second
year after leap year.
Days.
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
JANUARY.
Sun’s Longi¬
tude.
S. '
9 10 39
9 11 40
9 12 42
9 13 43
9 14 44
9 15 45
9 16 46
9 17 47
9 18 49
9 19 50
9 20 51
9 21 52
9 22 53
9 23 54
9 24 55
9 25 56
9 26 58
9 27 59
9 29 0
9 0 1
10
10
10
10
10
10 6 7
10 7 8
10 8 9
10 9 10
10 10 11
10 11 12
Sun’s Decli¬
nation.
23 2 S.
22 57
22 51
22 45
22 39
22 32
22 24
22 17
22 8
22 0
21 50
21 41
21 31
21 21
21 10
20 59
20 47
20 35
20 23
20 10
20 57
19 48
19 29
19 15
19 0
18 46
18 30
18 15
17 59
17 42
17 26
FEBRUARY.
10 12 13
10 13 13
10 14 14
10 15 15
10 16 16
10 17 17
10 18 17
10 19 18
10 20 19
10 21 19
10 22 20
10 23 21
10 24 21
10 25 22
10 26 22
10 27 23
10 28 23
10 29 24
11 0 24
11 1 25
11 7 27
11 8 27
11 9 27
17 9 S.
16 52
16 34
16 17
15 58
15 40
15 22
15 3
14 44
14 24
14 5
13 45
13 25
13 5
12 41
12 23
12 3
11 42
11 20
10 59
10 37
10 16
9 54
9 32
9 9
8 47
8 24
8 2
Equation of
Time.
50+
19
47
14
41
6 8
6 34
7 o
7 25
7 49
8 13
8 37
8 59
9 22
9 43
10 4
10 24
10 44
11 3
11 21
11 38
11 55
12 11
12 26
12 40
12 53
13 6
13 18
13 29
13 39
13 48
13 57 +
14 4
14 11
14 17
14 22
14 26
14 29
14 32
14 34
14 35
14 35
14 35
14 33
14 31
14 29
14 25
14 21
14 16
14 11
14 5
13 58
13 51
13 43
13 34
13 25
13 15
13 4
12 53
Days.
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
Sun’s Longi¬
tude.
S. ° '
11 10 27
11 11 28
11 12 28
11 13 28
11 14 28
11 15 28
11 16 28
11 17 27
11 18 27
19 27
11
11 20 27
11 21 27
11 22 27
11 23 26
11 24 26
11 25 26
11 26 25
11 27 25
11 28 24
11 29 24
0 23
1 23
2 22
3 22
4 21
5 21
6 20
7 19
8 18
9 a18
0 10 17
Sun’s Decli¬
nation.
7 39 S.
7 16
6 53
6 30
6 7
5 44
5 21
4 58
4 34
4 11
3 47
3 24
3 0
2 36
2 13
1 49
1 25
1 2
0 38
0 14
0 9
0 33 N.
0 57
1 20
1 44
7
31
54
18
41
4
Equation of
Time.
M. s.
12 42 +
12 30
12 17
12 4
11 50
11 36
11 22
11 7
10 51
10 36
0 11 16
0 12 15
0 13 14
0 14 13
0 15 12
0 16 11
0 17 10
0 18 9
0 19 7
0 20 6
0 21 5
0 22 4
0 23 2
0 24 l
0 25 0
0 25 58
0 26 57
0 27 56
0 28 54
0 29 53
4 28 N.
4 51
5 14
5 37
5 59
8 14
8 36
8 58
9 20
9 41
10 2
10 24
10 45
11 6
11 26
0 51
1 50
2 48
3 46
4 45
11 47
12 7
12 27
12 47
13 7
1 5 43
1 6 41
1 7 40
1 8 38
1 9 SO-
lS 26
13 46
14 5
14 23
14 42
10 20
10 4
9 47
9 30
9 13
8 56
8 38
8 20
8 3
7 45
7 26
7 8
6 50
6 32
6 13
4 4 +
3 46
3 28
3 10
2 52
2 34
2 16
1 59
1 42
1 25
1 9
0 52
0 36
0 21
0 5
0 9-
0 24
0 38
0 52
1 5
1 18
1 30
1 42
1 54
2 5
2 15
2 25
2 35
2 44
2 53
Days.
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
MAY.
Sun’s Longi¬
tude.
1 10 34
1 11 32
1 12 31
1 13 29
1 14 27
1 15 25
1 16 23
1 17 21
1 18 18
1 19 16
1 20 14
1 21 12
1 22 10
1 23 8
1 24 6
1 25 3
1 26 1
1 26 59
1 27 57
1 28 54
29 52
0 50
1 47
2 45
3 43
4 40
5 38
6 35
7 33
8 30
9 28
Sun’s Decli¬
nation.
17 49
18 4
18 20
18 34
18 49
19 3
19 17
19 30
19 43
19 56
20 8
20 20
20 32
20 44
20 55
21 5
21 16
21 26
21 35
21 44
21 53
Equation of
time.
JUNE.
2 10 25
2 11 23
2 12 20
2 13 17
2 14 15
15 12
16 10
17 7
18 4
19 2
2 19 59
2 20 56
2 21 53
2 22 51
2 23 48
2 24 45
2 25 43
2 26 40
2 27 37
2 28 34
2 29 32
3 0 29
3 1 26
3 2 24
3 3 21
3 4 18
3 5 15
3 6 12
3 7 10
13 8 7
22 2 N
22 10
22 17
22 25
22 32
22 38
22 44
22 50
22 55
23 0
23 5
23 9
23 13
23 16
23 19
23 21
23 23
23 25
23 26
23 27
23 27
23 27
23 27
23 26
23 25
23 23
23 21
23 19
23 16
23 13
3 33
3 38
2 36-
2 27
2 18
2 8
1 58
1 48
1 37
1 26
1 15
1 4
0 52
0 40
0 28
0 15
0 3
0 10+
0 23
0 36
0 49
1 2
1 15
1 28
1 41
1 54
2 7
20
33
45
57
9
DIALLING.
Table of the Sun's Longitude and Declination, fyc. continued.
Days.
Sun’s Longi¬
tude.
6
7
8
9
10
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
9 4
10 1
10 58
11 56
12 53
3 13 50
3 14 47
3 15 44
3 16 41
3 17 39
3 18 36
3 19 33
3 20 30
3 21 28
3 22 25
Sun’s Decli¬
nation.
Equation of
Time.
23 9 N.
23 5
23 0
22 55
22 50
22 44
22 38
22 32
22 25
22 18
3 23 22
3 24 19
3 25 17
3 26 14
3 27 11
3 28 9
3 29 6
4 0 3
4 1 1
4 1 58
2 55
3 53
4 50
5 47
S 45
7 42
22 10
22 2
21 54
21 45
21 36
21 26
21 16
21 6
20 55
20 44
20 33
20 21
20 9
19 57
19 44
19 31
19 18
19 4
18 50
18 36
18 22
AUGUST.
4 8 40
4 9 37
4 10 34
4 11 32
4 12 29
4 13 27
4 14 24
4 15 22
4 16 19
4 17 17
4 18 15
4 12 12
4 20 10
4 21 8
4 22 5
4 23 3
4 24 1
4 24 58
4 25 56
4 26 54
18 7 N.
17 51
17 36
17 20
17 4
16 48
16 31
16 15
15 57
15 40
15 22
15 5
14 46
14 28
14 10
4 27 52
4 28 50
4 29 48
5 0 46
5 1 43
2 41
3 39
4 37
5 35
6 33
7 31
13 51
13 32
13 12
12 53
12 33
12 13
11 53
11 33
11 13
10 52
21 +
32
44
55
5
10 31
10 11
9 49
9 28
9 7
8 45
4 15
4 25
4 35
4 44
4 53
5 1
5 9
5 17
5 24
5 31
5 37
5 43
5 48
5 53
5 57
6 0
6 3
6 6
6 8
6 9
6 10
6 10
6 9
6 8
6 6
6 4
6 1 +
5 57
5 53
5 48
5 43
5 36
5 30
5 23
5 15
5 6
4 58
4 48
4 38
4 28
4 17
4 5
3 53
3 40
3 27
3 14
3 0
2 45
2 30
2 15
1 59
1 43
1 26
1 9
0 51
0 33
0 15
Days.
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
SEPTEMBER.
Sun’s Longi¬
tude.
21
22
23
24
25
Sun’s Decli¬
nation.
Equation of
Time.
8 30
9 28
10 26
11 24
12 22
26
27
28
29
30
31
13 20
14 19
15 17
16 15
17 14
5 18 12
5 19 10
5 20 9
5 21 7
5 22 6
8 24 N.
8 2
7 40
7 18
6 56
6 33
6 11
5 48
5 26
5 3
4 40
4 17
3 54
3 31
3 8
5 23 5
5 24 3
5 25 2
5 26 0
5 26 59
27 58
28 57
29 55
0 54
1 53
2 45
2 22
1 59
1 35
1 12
0 49
0 25
0 2
0 22 S,
0 45
2 52
3 51
4 50
5 49
6 48
1 8
1 32
1 55
2 19
2 42
6 7 47
6 8 46
6 9 45
6 10 44
6 11 43
3 5 S.
3 29
3 52
4 15
4 38
6 12 42
6 13 42
6 14 41
6 15 40
6 16 40
6 17 39
6 18 39
6 19 38
6 20 38
6 21 37
6 22 37
6 23 36
6 24 36
6 25 36
6 26 35
5 1
5 24
5 47
6 10
6 33
6 56
7 19
7 41
8 4
8 26
6 27 35
6 28 35
6 29 35
7 0 35
7 l 34
2 34
3 34
4 34
5 34
6 34
7 34
8 48
9 10
9 32
9 54
10 16
10 37
10 59
11 20
11 41
12 2
12 23
12 43
13 3
13 23
13 43
14 3
M. S.
0 3—
0 22
0 41
1 1
1 20
1 40
2 *0
2 20
2 41
3 1
3 22
3 43
4 4
4 24
4 45
5 6
5 27
5 48
6 9
6 30
6 51
7 12
7 33
7 54
8 14
8 34
8 55
9 15
9 35
9 54
10 14-
10 33
10 51
11 10
11 28
11 46
12 3
12 20
12 36
12 52
13 8
13 23
13 37
13 51
14 4
14 17
14 29
14 41
14 52
15 3
15 12
15 22
15 30
15 38
15 45
15 52
15 57
16 2
16 7
16 10
16 13
Days.
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
NOVEMBER.
Sun’s Longi¬
tude.
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
7 8 34
7 9 34
7 10 35
7 11 35
7 12 35
13 35
14 35
15 36
16 36
17 36
18 37
19 37
20 38
21 38
22 39
Sun's Decli¬
nation.
Equation of
Time.
14 22 S.
14 41
15 0
15 19
15 38
15 56
16 14
16 31
16 49
17 6
M. S.
16 15-
16 16
16 17
16 16
16 15
16 13
16 10
16 6
16 1
15 56
23 39
24 40
25 41
26 41
27 42
17 23
17 39
17 55
18 11
18 27
18 42
18 57
19 12
19 26
19 40
7 28 43
7 29 43
8 0 44
8 1 45
8 2 45
3 46
4 47
5 48
6 49
7 49
19 53
20 6
20 19
20 32
20 44
15 49
15 42
15 34
15 25
15 15
15 4
14 53
14 40
14 27
14 13
20 55
21 7
21 17
21 28
21 38
13 58
13 42
13 26
13 9
12 51
12 32
12 13
11 53
11 32
11 11
DECEMBER.
8 8 50
8 9 51
8 10 52
8 11 53
8 12 54
8 13 55
8 14 56
8 15 57
8 16 58
8 17 59
8 19
8 20
8 21
8 22
8 23
8 24 5
8 25 7
8 26 8
8 27 9
8 28 10
8 29 11
9 0 12
9 1 14
9 2 15
9 3 16
4 17
5 18
6 19
7 20
8 22
9 23
21 48 S.
21 57
22 6
22 14
22 22
22 29
22 36
22 43
22 49
22 55
23 0
23 5
23 9
23 13
23 17
23 20
23 22
23 24
23 26
23 27
23 27
23 28
23 27
23 26
23 25
23 23
23 21
23 18
23 15
23 12
23 8
10 49—
10 26
10 3
9 39
9 14
8 49
8 23
7 57
7 30
7 3
6 36
6 8
5 39
5 10
4 41
4 12
3 43
3 13
2 43
2 13
1 43
1 13
0 43
0 13
0 17 +
0 47
1 16
1 46
2 15
2 44
3 13
Diallin
END OF VOLUME SEVENTH.
Printed and Stereotyped by Thomas Allan, Jun. St Co.
PLATE CL XIX
COINAGE.
farey, Dell
Enq d by G. A ikmxuL. EdinT.
COINAGE.
Machines used in, tJie Mint.
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PLATE CLXX.
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PLATE CLX.XVU.
Side Elevation of Cants.
Eiq. 1.
CA RD/XG.
En<nt Elevation oC (arils
big. 3.
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PUm of Cants.
Iertica! Section of (ants.
Fig. .5.
End Elevation, of Drawing frame.
DRAWING Axft ROVING.
Fig.7.
Erut Elevation of Rovinq frame.
Fig. 9.
Front Elevation of Roving or Can frame.
Elan of Drawing frame.
Fig Ef.
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