ELEMENTS PHILOSOPHY, ARRANGED UNDER THE FOLLOWING HE ADS t Matter and Motion, The Universe, The Solar System, The Fixed Stars e xe tars, The Earth considered as a Planet, The Atmosphere, Meteors, Springs, Rivers, and the Sea, Fossils, Plants, Animals., The Human Frame, And THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, T see a mighty arm, by man unseen, 'Resistless-, not to be controlled, that guides, " In solitude of unshar'd energies, u All these thy ceaseless miracles, O world!" C. LAME- NEW-rORK: Printed by D. & G. Bruce, FOR J. QSBQRN, BOOKSELLER, 13 PARK, 1808, CONTENTS;" Page Ckap. I. Matter and Motion . , . 11 II. The Universe 24> III. The Solar System 3f IV. The Fixed Stars 57 V. The Earth considered as a Planet . . 68 VI. The Atmosphere 90 VII. Meteors . . . , 105 VIII. Springs, Rivers, and the Sea 124 IX. Fossils 141 X. Plants 177 XI. Animals 200 XII. The Human Frame 234 XIII. The Human Understanding ...... ^260 984 PREFACE. IN an age like the present, when the growth of every production con- ducive to the interests of morality, and a more extensive knowledge of the Creator through the medium of his O ' y tvorks, is recommended and publicly encouraged, hut little need be offered by way of apology for the present Compilation. One important object of the following pages was to present ^ in a very compact and comprehensive form, an interesting and connected account of those laws and operaiions in the material world > which > under the elaborate pens of philosophical authors, cover an extent of scientific ground too enlarged for the commer- cial and labouring individual to tra- vel over ; but more particularly has this little compendium been arranged for the juvenile inquirer, who either A PREFACE. from a premature wish to anticijh the result of deep calculations, or from, other contingent occupations, would have a general, yet clear, idea of ob- jects, which zvithout the aid of philo- sophy he cannot understand. To en- able him to accomplish this desirable end, the following pages are, as far as possible, divested of the technical difficulties which but too often form impenetrable barriers to the expan- sion of the rising mind. While, how- ever, they endeavour to exhibit in a -^amiliar manner that chain of con- nexion which binds and unites all na- ture, they will by no means supersede an encouragement to penetrate into those sciences whence the axioms, laws, and calculations which relate to mat- ter and motion are ascertained.. Having notified the design of this little manuel, it is unnecessary to en- force the importance of the. subject of which it treats. No employment sure- PREFACE. 7 hj yields so rich a 'harvest of instruc- tion and delight to a rational being as that of surveying the wonderful works of tlic Great Creator -, as dis- played in the various parts of the universe. Such employment is a source of never-failing satisfaction to per- sons of every age ; and it is only by acquiring a knowledge of nature, and observing the contrivance and skill conspicuous in every department of creation, that we are enabled to form an adequate idea of the attributes and character of the Supreme Being. In proportion as we attain a know- ledge of the objects around us they become interesting and important. That which to the careless and un- enlightened spectator , appears solita- ry and detached, having no other con- nection with the rest of the universe but the shadowy andjleeting relation of co-existence, zvill, to him who takes i glimpse into the general economy $ PREFACE* of nature* declare themselves to l>e ports of a great and harmonious whole, connected by general laws, and tending fo one general and beneficent J);trp-jse> and cannot fail of impres- sing him with a wish to co-operate in tins glorious plan, by acting worthy of the place he holds among the works &GO& Tn as is the study of nature calcu- lated to eral 1 the mind, and reduce the sinn of human pride and igno- ? ' - , and ccmes in aid of that self- abasement which the great duties of Christianity impose, hy teaching man that, though he stands a pinnacle of power, and grasps in intellect all the prodigious works of 'creation, he is but a link in an immeasurable chain that serve* to suspend and give motion to the zoorks of Him who Connects each being, greatest with the least, Made beast in aid of man, and man of beast. Nor is it as a moral agent only PREFACE. tnat man is benefited by a knowledge of natural philosophy ; it teaches him to employ the powers of nature to the greatest advantage for the embellish- ment and comfort of life, and extends his empire over the material universe. Knowledge of this kind, therefore, is the most valuable that man can ac- quire: it enriches his life with conve- niences, enlarges his views, and lays' a foundation for the most rational and exalted piety. * ( The universe (says Boyle) is the magnificent tem- ple of its great Author ; and man is ordained, by his powers and qualifi- cations, the high-priest of nature, to celebrate divine service in this temple of the universe." Let him then, aspiring to the dig- nity of his station, assisted by the writings of modern authors, devote his noblest powers to the investigation of the laws of nature ; and evince that he is not in vain given ability to be 1O PREFACE* wiser than the fowls of heaven, and to have more understanding than the beasts which perish. ELEMENTS NATURAL PHILOSOPHY, CHAP. I. Of Matter and Motion. MATTER is an extended solid* sub- stance ; which being comprehended un- der distinct surfaces, makes so many par* ticular distinct bodies. * Solidity is not here considered as opposed to fluidity, but as that property which every body possesses of not permitting' any other substance to occupy the same place with it at the same time ; so that both water and air, and every other fluid, are equally solid, in this sense of the word, with the hardest body. By solidity, in common lan- guage, is understood the property of not being* easily separated into parts ; and therefore the reader must be careful not to confound the mean- ing- of the popular with the philosophical terro* 1 2 Matter and Motion. Motion is so well known by the sight and touch, that to use words to give a clearer idea of it would be in vain. Matter, or body, is indifferent to mo- tion or rest. There is as much force required to put a body, which is in motion, at rest ; as there is to set a body, which is at rest, into motion. No parcel of matter can give itself ei- ther motion or rest ; and therefore a bo- dy at rest will remain so eternally, ex- cept some external cause puts it in mo- tion ; and a body in motion will move eternally, except some external cause stops it. A body in motion will always move on in a straight line, unless it be turned out of it by some external cause ; because a body can no more alter the determina- tion of its motion than it can begin it, alter or stop its motion itself. The velocity of motion is estimated by the time employed in moving over a certain space, or by the space moved over in a certain time. The less the time, and the greater the space moved over, the greater is the velocity ; on the contrary, Matter and Motion. 13 the greater the time,and the less the space moved over, th*. less is the velocity* Ev- ery body in motion must have a determi- nate velocity. To ascertain the degree of this swiftness or velocity, the space run over must be divided by the time. For example, suppose a body moves over 1000 yards in 10 minutes, its velocity will be 100 yards per minute, because 100 is the quotient of 1000, divided by 10. If we would compare the velocity of twu bodies A and B, of v.hich A moves over 54 yards in 9 minutes, and B 96 yards in 6 minutes, the velocity of A will he to that of B, in the proportion of 6 (the quotient of 54 divided by 9) to 16 (the quotient of 96 divided by 6.) To know the space run over, the velo- city must be multiplied by the time ; for it is evident, that if either the velocity or the time be increased, the space run over will be greater. If the velocity be doub- led, then the body will move over twice the space in the same time ; or if the time be twice as great, then the space will be doubled : but if the velocity and time be both doubled, then will the be four times as great, 14 Matter and Motion. It follows from this, that when two bodies move over unequal spaces in un- equal times, their velocities are to each other as the quotients arising from divi- ding the spaces run over by the times. If two bodies move over unequal spaces in the same time, their velocities will be in proportion to the spaces passed over. And if two bodies move over equal spa- ces in unequal times, then their respec- tive velocities will be inversely as the time employed ; that is, if A in one min- ute, and B in two minutes, run over 10O yards, the velocity of A will be to that "of B as 2 to 1 . It appears, as far as human obervation reaches, to be a settled law of nature, that u all bodies have a tendency, attrac- tion, or gravitation towards one another." The same force applied to two differ- ent bodies, produces always the same quantity of motion in each of them. For instance, let a boat, which with its lad- ing is one tun, be tied at a distance, to another vessel, which with its lading is twenty-six tuns ; if the rope that ties tliem together be pulled either in the less or bigger of these vessels, the Matter and Motion. 15 two, in their approach one to another, ivijl move twenty-six foot, while the oth- er moves but one foot. Wherefore the quantity of matter in the earth being twenty-six times more than in the moon, the motion in the moon towards the earth, by the common force of attraction, by which they are impelled towards one another, will be twenty-six times as fast as in the earth ; that is, the moon will move twenty-six miles towards the earth, for every mile the earth moves towards the moon. This attraction is the strongest, the nearer the attracting bodies are to each other ; and in different distances of the same bodies, is reciprocally in the dupli- cate proportion of those distances. For instance, if two bodies, at a given dis- tance, attract each other with a certain force, at half the distance, they will at- tract each other with four times that force ; at one third of the distance, with nine times that force ; and so on. Two bodies, at a distance, will put one another into motion by the force of at- traction ; which is inexplicable by us, though made evident to us by experience, 16 Matter and Motion* and so to be taken as a principle in na* tural philosophy. Supposing then the earth the sole bo- dy in the universe, and at rest ; if God should create the ir.oon, at the same dis- tance that it is now from the earth, the earth and the moon would presently be- gin to move one towards another in a straight line, by this motion of attraction or gravitation. If a body, that by the attraction of another would move in a straight line towards it, receives a new motion any ways oblique to the first, it will no longer move in a straight line, according to ei- ther of those directions, but in a curve, that will partake of both ; and this curve will differ, according to the nature and quantity of the forces that concurred to produce it; as, for instance, in many ca- ses it will be such a curve as ends when* it began, or recurs into itself; that is, make up a circle, or an ellipsis, or oval very little differing from a circle. Attraction may be divided, with res- pect to the law it observes, into two kinds. That which takes place at a sensible, dis- tance^ and that which does not extend to Matter and Motion* 1 7 sensible distances. The first is called the attraction of gravity, or, by mathe- maticians, the centripetal force. This is the species of attraction whose laws we have endeavoured to elucidate. It is one of the most universal principles In nature. We see and feel it operate in bodies near the earth, and find by obser- vation that the same power (i. e. a power which acts in the same manner, and by the same rules, viz. always proportionally to the quantities of mattter, and inverse- ly as the squares of the distances) does al- so obtain in the moon, and the other plan- ets, both primary and secondary, as well as in the comets ; and even that this is the very power by which they are all re- tained in their orbits. This mighty prin- ciple fornixS the earth into a round and dense ball, holds every thing animate and inanimate to its surface, and makes its whole surface its general top. .From this attraction arises all the mo- tion, and consequently all the mutation, in the great world. By this heavy bodies descend, and light ones ascend ; by this projectiles are directed, vapours and ex- halations rise, and rains fall -, by this B 1 8 Matter and Motion. rivers glide, the ocean swells, the air presses, &c. 2d. That which does not extend to sensible distances. Such is found to ob- tain in the minute particles of which bodies are composed, attracting each oth- er at or extremely near the point of con- tact, with forces often much superior to that of gravity, but which at any distance decrease much faster than the power of gravity. This power a late ingenious author calls the attraction of cohesion, as being that by which the atoms or in- sensible particles of bodies are united into sensible masses. The laws of motion, percussion, &c* in sensible bodies, under various circum- stances, as falling, projected, &c. do not reach those more recluse intestine mo- tions in the component particles of the same bodies, on which depend the chan- ges in the texture, colour, properties,. &c. of bodies. So that our philosophy, if it were only founded on the principle of gravitation, and even carried as far as this would kad us, would still be very deficient. But, besides the common law* of sensible masses, the minute parts they Matter and Motion. 19 are composed of are found subject to some others, which have but lately been noticed,, and are even yet imperfectly known 8 Newton himself, to whose hap- py penetration we owe the hint, limits liimself with establishing that there are such motions in the minima natures, and that they flow from certain powers or forces, not reducible to any of those in the great world, and from hence he ac- counts for an infinity of phenomena, oth- erwise inexplicable, to which the princi- ple of gravity is inadequate. Thus, adds Sir Isaac, "will nature be found very conformable to herself, and very simple; performing all the great motions of the heavenly bodies by the attraction of grav- ity, which intercedes those bodies, and almost all the small ones of their parts, by some other attractive power diffused through their particles. Without such principles, there never would have been any motion in the world ; and without the continuance of it, motion would soon perish, there being otherwise a great de- crease or diminution, of it, which is only supplied by these active principles." By the attraction of cohesion are form- 2O liter and Motion. cd stones, metals, woods, salts, and eve- ry thing that may be denominated body. The effects of solders, glue, cements, &c. are all from the same cause. So jewels, hard stones, stalactites, petrifactions, por- celain, pottery, bricks, flags, glass, ce- ments, artificial stones, and plastic earthy compositions, which preserve their figure in drying, all are children of this great agent ; and as this power is much great- er in some bodies than in others, there arises an infinite variety in the strength, the weight, the texture, &c. of metals, stones, &c. for we have powerful reasons to believe that the original particles of all matter are of the same weight ; and that it is this principle that makes thegreat dif- ference in their specific weight. To minds not used to philosophical investigation, it must appear a bold assertion to say, that the particles of gold are not one whit hea- vier than the particles of cork ; but expe- riment and observation shew this to be really the case. The grand antagonist principle of the attraction of cohesion is fire (or caloric in the new language of chemistry.) These two opposing powers keep nature in a state Matter and Motion. 21 f perpetual motion. When the attractive force is strongest, the body continues in a state of solidity ; but if, on the contrary, heat has so far removed the particles of it, as to place them beyond the sphere of at- traction they lose their adhesion, and the body becomes fluid. Water, when cooled below 32 degrees of Fahrenheit's ther- mometer, becomes solid, and is called ice. Above that temperature, its parti- cles not being held together, it becomes liquid ; but when raised to 212 degrees, its particles give way to the repulsive power of fire, and, flying off, assume an aeriform state, called steam ; the same may be affirmed of all bodies in nature, for even diamonds, the hardest substance we know, are capable of being dispersed by a common culinary fire* It may therefore be considered as an axiom, that all bodies are capable in cer- tain circumstances, of the three states of !$gtidity\ fluidity^ and gas. The atoms of which bodies are formed, are concealed from us by their minute- ness, and though they are the active parts of matter, and the great instruments of Bature,on which depend all its operations* B2 32 Matter and Motion. we can form no idea of them, for whether we view animate or inanimate matter, the corpuscles of which it is formed ^re so infinitely small, as not only to escape the scrutiny of the highest magnifying powers in glasses, but even imagination itself is incapable of forming an idea of an original particle of matter : One pound of gold is capable of covering a wire that will circumscribe the globe, nay, so infi- nite is this divisibility that Lewenhoeck discovered more living animalcules in the milt of on^ single cod-fish than there are jnen, women, and children on the face of the earth ! and those so small that many thousands may stand upon the point of a needle. And if we suppose that these animalculae are furnished with blood, like other animals, and if the globules of their blood bear the same proportion to their bulk as those of a man bear to his body, it may be proved, that the smallest visible grain of sand would contain more of these globules than 10,256 of the largest moun- tains in the world would contain grains of sand. When we consider these tilings we seem to look down into infinity j and as. Matter and Motion. 23 in the contemplation of the starry heavens, we can conceive no term to the extension of space ; so, in regarding the minute parts of creation we see no end to the divisibility of matter. We are lost in wonder when we attempt to comprehend either the vastness or the minuteness of creation, and are necessarily made to feel that it belongs only to the one great and incomprehensible Power, who work- eth in ways past finding out. 24 The Universe* CHAP. II. Of the Universe. TO any one, who looks about him in the world, there at:e obvious several dis- tinct masses of matter, separate from one another ; some whereof have discernable motions. These are the sun, the fixed stars, the comets, and the planets, amongst which this earth, which we inhabit, is one. All these are visible to our naked eyes. Besides these, telescopes have discov ered several fixed stars, invisible to the naked eye ; and several other bodies mo- ving about some of the planets ; all which were invisible and unknown, before the use of prospective glasses was found. The vast distances between these great bodies, are called intermundane spaces ; in which though there maybe some fluid matter, yet it is so thin and subtile ; and there is so little of that in respect of the The Universe. i25 great masses that move m those spaces, that it is as much as nothing. These masses of matter are, either lu- minous, or opaque or dark. Luminous bodies, are such as give light of themselves ; and such are the sun, and the fixed stars. Dark or opaque bodies, are such as emit no light of themselves, though they are capable of reflecting it, when it is cast upon them from other bodies : and such are the planets. There are some opaque bodies, as for instance the comets, which besides the light, that they may have from the sun, seem to shine with a "light that is nothing else but an accension, which they receive from the sun, in their near approaches to It, in their respective revolutions. The fixed stars are so called, because; they always keep the same distance one from another. On a view of the visible system of na- ture, by us called the universe, the grand- est and most admired object is the great luminary of day. Its splendour, its heat, its beneficial influence have always 26 The Universe. excited the particular attention of the hu- man species, and have obtained the ado- ration of all those nations which have not been blessed with revelation. Those who are not accustomed to as- tronomical calculation, will be surprized at the real magnitude of this luminary ; \vhich, on account of its distance from us, appears to the eye not much larger than the moon, which is only an attendant on our earth. When looking at the sun, we are viewing a globe, whose diameter is 890,000 English miles ; whereas the earth is no more in diameter than 7,97O miles : so that the sun is about 1,392,500 times bigger than the earth. Thus as it is the fountain of light and heat to all the planets, so it also far surpasses them in its bulk. . The sun has several spots, which are visible on its surface. These spots were entirely unknown before the invention of telescopes, though they are sometimes of sufficient magnitude to be discerned by the naked eye. There is a great variety in their magnitudes ; some have been so large, as by computation to be capable of covering the continents of Asia and Af* The Universe. 27 rica ; nay, the whole surface of the earth, or even five times its surface. The nature and formation of the solar spots have been the subject of much speculation and conjecture. The latest observations on them, and on the nature and construction of the sun, are those of Dr. Herschel : he considers the sun as a most magnificent habitable globe, sur- rounded by a double set of clouds. Those which are nearest its opaque body, are less bright, and more closely connected together than those of the upper stratum, which form the luminous apparent globe nve behold. This luminous external mat- ter is of a phosphoric nature, havingseve- ral accidental openings in it, through V/hich we see the sun's body, or the more opaque clouds beneath. Those openings form the spots we see. Next to the sun, the moon is the most splendid and shining globe in the hea* %-ens ; and by dissipating, in seme meas- ure, the darkness and the horrors of the night ; subdividing the year into months, and regulating the flux and reflux of the sea, she not only becojnes a pleasing, but 28 The Universes a welcome object ; affording much for speculation to the contemplative mind, and of real use to the navigator, the traveller, and the husbandman. The Hebrews, the Greeks, the Romans, and in general, all the ancients, used to assem- ble at the time of the new moon, to dis- charge the duties of piety and gratitude for its manifold uses. When we view this attendant on our earth in its nightly course, we seldom form an adequate idea either of its mag- nitude, or its motion. While it seems to take some hours in getting half a yard from a star which it touched, we never reflect that this is an immense mass of matter, of 218O miles in diameter, dri- ving through the heavens at the rate of considerably more than two thousand miles an hour, which is more than double of that with which a ball is shot off from the mouth of a cannon. The face of the moon is greatly diver- sified with inequalities, and parts of dif- ferent colours, some brighter, and some darker than the other parts of her disk. When viewed through a telescope, her face is evidently diversified with hills and valleys : and the same is also shewn by The Universe. .29 the edge or border of the moon appearing jagged, when so viewed, especially about the confines of the illuminated part when, the moon is either horned or gibbous. M. Schroeter, of the Royal Society o Gottingen, in the year 1792, seems to have taken great pains to investigate the truth of this matter, i According to him, the surface of the moon appears to be much more unequal than that of our earth ; and these inequalities have great variety both in form and magnitude. There are large irregular plains, on which are observed long and narrow strata of hiljis running in a serpentine direction : some of the moun- tains form extensive chains ; others, which are in general the highest, stand alone, and are of a conical shape : some have craters ; others form a circular ring in- closing a plain. The most lofty moun- tain on the surface of our globe is suppo- sed to be Chimboraco, which is not twen- ty thousand feet in height : but there are many in the moon which are much high- er ; that which is distinguished by the name of Leibnitz^ is not less than 25 3 OOO feet. C 30' The Universe. The craters of the moon are circular, and surrounded with an annular bank of hills : they are remarkable for their width, many of them being from four to fifteen geographical miles in diameter : some are not deeper than the level of the moon's surface ; others are 9000, 12,000, and 15,000 feet in depth ; that of one which M. Schroeter calls Bernoiiilli, is above 18,000 feet. On the face of the moon are likewise volcanoes \vhich appear to the observer as lighted coals, and illuminate the neigh- bouring mountains. With respect to the nature and con- ' struction of the moon and the probability of its being inhabited, Dr. Herschel, in his papers published in the Philosophical Transactions of 1795, concludes, after tracing the great similarity between it and the earth, as follows : u There seems on- ly to be wanting, in order to complete the analogy, that it should be inhabited.- To this it may be objected, that we per- ceive no large seas in the moon ; that its atmosphere (the existence of which has even been doubted by many) is extreme- ly rare, and unfit for the purposes of ani* 'The Universe* 31 mal life ; that its climates, its seasons, and the length of its days, totally differ from ours ; that without dense clouds (which the moon has not) there can be no rain ; perhaps no rivers, no lakes. In short, that r notwithstanding the similarity which has been pointed out, there seems to be a decided difference in the two pla- nets we have compared. My answer to this will be, that that very difference which is now objected will rather strength- en the force of my argument than lessen its value ; we find, even upon our globe, that there is the most striking difference in the situation of the creatures that live upon it. While man walks upon the ground, the birds fly in the air, and fishes .swim in water ; we can certainly not ob- ject to the conveniences afforded by the moon, if those that are to inhabit its re- gions are fitted to their conditions as well as we on this globe are to ours. An ab- solute or total sameness seerns rather to denote imperfections, such as nature ne- ver exposes to our view ; and, on this ac- count, I believe the analogies that have been mentioned fully sufficient to estab- lish the high probability of the moon's being inhabited like the earth." 32 The Universe. Lastly of the earth on which we dwell, Speck as this may appear in the im- mensity of creation, it is nevertheless to us of the highest importance; we only wish to obtain a knowledge of other pla- ne ts % and systems, that we may find out their relation to this, and from thence learn our connection with the universe at large. The external part of the earth either exhibits inequalities, as mountains and valleys ; or it is plane and level ; or dug in channels, fissures, beds, &c. for rivers, lakes, seas, &c. These inequalities in the face of the globe most naturalists suppose have arisen from a rupture or subversion of the earth, by the force ei- ther of the subterraneous fires or waters. The earth in its natural and original state, It has been supposed by Des Cartes, and after him Burnet, Steno, Woodward, Whiston and others, was perfectly round, smooth, and equable ; and they account for its present rude and irregular form, principally from the great deluge ; but from whatever cause those inequalities may have arose, or at what period, they seem a necessary part of the econonr The Universe* SS nature. It is the intermediate space be- tween the mountain's top and the sea- shore that forms the habitation of plants and animals. While there is sea-shore and high ground, there is that which is required in the system of the world ; take that away, and there would remain an aqueous globe in which the world would perish. What the internal or central part of the earth is composed of is utterly unknown to us, though many opinions have been formed respecting it ; the utmost depth to which it hath been penetrated by human art not being more than 2400 feet, or less than half a mile, which, when compared with the length of the diameter, is a very -short distance indeed.. From its mean density, however, which is to that of wa- ter as 9 to 2, and to common stone as 9 to 5, it is presumed that it contains great quantities of metals. The figure of the earth is that of a spheroid, having its equatorial diameter longer than its polar diameter. It is con- sequently flattest at the poles, and more protuberant at the equator. With respect to the magnitude of the C2 34 The Universe. earth, this has been variously determined by different authors, both ancient and modern. The following dimensions may be taken as near the truth. The circumference . . 25,OOO miles. The polar diameter . . 7893 miles, The equatorial diameter 7928 miles, The superficies 198,944,206 sq. miles. The solidity 263,930,000,000 cubic m. Also the seas, and unknown parts of the earth, by a measurement of the best maps, contain 160,522,026 square miles ; the in- habited parts, 38,922,180 ; of which Eu- rope contains 4,456,065 ; Asia, 10,768,- 823 ; Africa, 9,654,807 ; and America, 14,110,874 square miles. Of the divisions of the Earth. In tak- ing a view of the terraqueous globe the 3iiost obvious divisions that present them- selves, are those that are sketched by the yielding water on the crooked shore, call- ed continents, islands, seas, &c. A continent is a large tract of land not separated by the sea ; as Europe, Asia, &c. An ocean is a vast collection of wa- ter not separated by land ; as the Atlan- tic, Pacific, &c. A sea is a smaller col- lection of water communicating with the The Universe. 35 ocean ; as the Mediterranean, the Baltic. An island is a tract of land surrounded by water; as Great Britain, Ireland, &cc. A lake is water surrounded by land ; as the Lake of Geneva. A cape or promontory is a point of land running far into the sea ; as the Cape of Good Hope. A bay is a part of the ocean running far into the land j as the Bay of Biscay. A peninsula is land almost surrounded with water ; as the Morea. A gulph is a part of the sea almost surrounded with land ; as the Gulph of Venice. An isthmus is the narrow part of land which joins the peninsula to any country ; as the Isthmus of Suez. A Strait is a nar- row passage from one sea to another ; as the Strait of Gibraltar. The earth is also divided into four quar- ters ; Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. Besides these, there are other divi- sions of a more varying character ; such are the political boundaries that separate kingdoms and empires. Kingdoms, provinces, towns, &c. are divisions of the earth that change with th$ 36 The Universe, affairs of the nations that have made them ; and accordingly in different ages ? :they alter their appearances. Solar System* CHAP. III. Of the Solar System. OUR solar system consists of the sun, and the planets, and comets moving about it. The planets are bodies which appear to us like stars ; not that they are lumi- nous bodies, that is, have light in them- selves ; but they shine by reflecting the sun. They are called planets from a Greek word, which signifies wandering ; be- cause they change their places, and do not always keep the same distance with one another, nor with the fixed stars, as the fixed stars do. There are two kinds of planets, prima- ry and secondary. The first move round the sun, and respect him only as the cen- ter of their motions. The secondary planets, called also satellites, or moons, are smaller planets, revolving round the S3 Solar System. primary, while they, with the primary planets about which they move, are car- ried round the sun. The planets move round the sun at various distances, some being much nearer to him than our earth, and others being much further off. There are nine primary planets, which are situated with respect to their distan- ces from the sun as follows : ? ? % =*= Scorpio. Saggitturrius. Capricornus. Aquarius. Pisrts. Til $ V? X The former six are called northern, and the latter southern signs ; because the former possess that half of the ecliptic which lies to the northward of the equi- noctial ; and the latter that which lies to the southward. The northern are our summer signs, the southern our winter ones. As these twelve signs answer to the twelve months in the year, it is a very Fixed Stars. 61 probable conjecture that the figures un- der which they are represented are de- scriptive of the seasons of the year, 01* months, in the sun's path ; thus, the first sign Aries, denotes, that, about the time when the sun enters that part of the ecliptic, the lambs begin to follow the sheep ; that on the Sun's approach to the second constellation, Taurus the Bull, is about the time of the cows bringing forth their young. The third sign, now Ge- mini, was originally two kids, and signi- fied the time of the goats bringing forth their young, which are usually two at a birth, while the former, the sheep and cow, commonly produce only one. The fourth sign, Cancer, the Crab, an animal that goes side-ways and backwards, was placed at the northern solstice, the point where the sun begins to return back again from the north to the southward. The fifth sign, Leo, the Lion, as being a very furious animal, was thought to denote the heat and fury of the burning sun, \vhen he has left Cancer, and entered the next sign Leo. The succeeding constellation, the sixth in order, received the sun at the time of ripening corn and approaching 62 Fixed Stars. harvest ; which was aptly expressed by one of the female reapers, with an ear of corn in her hand, viz. Virgo, the Maid. The ancients gave to the next sign, Scor- pio, two of the twelve divisions of the zodiac ; autumn, which affords fruits in great abundance, affords the means and causes of diseases, and the succeeding time is the most unhealthy of the year ; expressed by this venomous animal, here spreading out its long claws into one sign, as threatening mischief, and in the other brandishing his tail to denote the comple- tion of it. The fall of the leaf was the season of the ancient hunting ; for which reason the stars which marked the sun's place at this season, into the constellation Sagittary, a huntsman with his arrows and his club, the weapon of destruction for the large creatures he pursued. The reason of the Wild Goat's being chosen to mark the southern solstice, when the suti has attained his extreme limit that way, and begins to return and mount again to the northward, is obvious enough ; the character of that animal being that it is mostly climbing, and ascending some mountain, as it browses. There yet re- Fixed Stars. 63 main two of the signs of the zodiac to be considered with regard to their origin, viz. Aquarius and Pisces. As to the former, it is to be considered that the win- ter is a wet and uncomfortable season ; this therefore was expressed by Aquari- us, the figure of a man pouring out water from an urn. The last of the zodiacal constellations was Pisces, a couple of fishes tied together, that had been caught; the lesson was, The severe season is over ; your flocks do not yet yield then- store, but the seas and rivers are open, and there you may take fish in abun- dance. With respect to the distances of the fixed stars, they are so extremely remote, that we have no distances in the planeta- ry system to compare to them. The distance of the star Draconis (a star of the fifth magnitude) appears, by Dr. Bradley's observations, to be at least 400,000 times that of the sun, and the distance of the nearest fixed star not less than 40,000 diameters of the earth's an- nual orbit ; that is, the distance from the earth, of the former at least 38,000,000,- 000,000 miles, and the latter not less than 64- Fixed Stars. 7,600,000,000,000 miles. As these dis- tances are immensely great, it may both be amusing, and help to a clearer and more familiar idea, to compare them with the velocity of some moving body, bj which they may be measured. The swiftest motion we know of, is that of light, which passes from the sun to the earth in about eight minutes ; and yet this would be above six years travers- ing the first space, and near a year and a quarter in passing from the nearest fixed star to the earth. But a cannon-ball, moving on a medium at the rate of about twenty miles in a minute, would be 3,800,000 years in passing from Draco- nis to the earth, and 760,000 years pass- ing from the nearest fixed star. Sound, which moves at the rate of about thir- teen miles in a min. would be 5,60O,OOO years traversing the former distance, and 1,128,000 in passing through the latter. The celebrated Kuygens pursued specu- lations of this kind so far, as to believe it not impossible, that there may be stars at such inconceivable distances, that their light has not yet reached the earth sincp the creation. Fixed Stars. 65 Though the number of the stars ap- pears to be immensely great ; yet have astronomers long since ascertained the number of such as are visible to the eye, which are much fewer thaii at first sight could be imagined. Of the 3000 contained in Flamstead's catalogue, there are many that are only visible through a telescope ; and a good eye scarcely ever sees more than a thousand at the same time in the clearest heaven ; the appear- ance of innumerable more, that are fre- quent in clear winter nighty, arising from our sight's being deceived by their twink- ling, and from our viewing them confu- sedly, and not reducing them to any or- der. But a good telescope, directed in- differently to almost any point of the hea- vens, discovers multitudes that are lost to the naked eye ; particularly in the milky way. And F. de Rheita affirms, that he has observed above 2000 stars in the single constellation of Orion. The same author found above 188 in the Pleiades. Galileo found eighty in the space of the belt of Orion's sword, twenty-one in the nebulous star of his head, and above 50O in another part of him, within the com- F 66 Fixed Stars. pass of one or two degrees of space, and more than forty in the nebulous star Prsesepe, and the recent disco\ 7 eries of Dr. Herschel have proved the fixed stars to be immense, their regions unbounded, and perhaps infinite ! As the stars, contrary to the moon and planets, shine like our sun, by their own native light, astronomers suppose that each of them is a sun, with its system of inhabited worlds revolving round it. Un- der this idea or persuasion, of how innu- merable a family do we seem to make a part ! The immensity of the universe be- comes peopled with fellow beings, and we feel an interest in what appears to be going on at distances so vast, that what we see, as in time present, we have rea- son to believe (swift, as is the progress of light, darting from the spheres) must have happ;n<, J many ages ago. Under the idea of the universe being replenish- ed with human brings, how magnificent, how awful, are tne spectacles that present themselves to the observer of the hea- vens ! The creature of a day, of a few fleeting moments, seems to obtain a glimpse of a nqw creation, a glimpse of Fixed Stars. 67 the end of time, in the passing away of a system. What an amazing conception, if hu- man imagination can conceive it, does this give of the works of the Creator! Thousands of thousands of suns, multi- plied without end, and ranged ail around us, at immense distances from each oth- er, attended by ten thousand times ten thousand worlds, all hung loosens it were, in boundless space, upheld by nothing, confined by nothing, yet preserved in their rapid course, calm, regular and har- monious, invariably keeping the paths assigned them by the sovereign Artificer. 68 The Earth considered as a Planet. CHAP. V. Of the Earth considered as a Planet, THE Earth goes round the sun in 365 days 5 hours 49 minutes, from an equi- nox or solstice to the same again ; but from any fixed star to the same again, as seen from the sun, in 365 days, 6 hours and nine minutes ; the former being the length of the tropical ijear, and the latter the length of the sidereal. The motion of the earth in common with the rest of the planets about the sun, is in the order of the signs of the zodiac ; that is, from west to east. This zone or belt, as has been mentioned, goes round the heavens ; and along the middle, of it is the ecliptic, or circle which the earth describes annually as seen from the sun ; and which the sun appears to describe as seen from the earth. Besides this annual revolution of the earth about the sun, in the ecliptic ; the The Earth considered as a Planet. 69 earth turns round upon its own axis in 24 hours. The turning of the earth upon its own axis every 24 hours, whilst it moves round the sun in a year, we may conceive by the running of a howl on a bowling green ; in which not only the center of the bowl hath a progressive motion on the green ; but the bowl in its going forward, from one part of the green to another, turns round about its own axis. The turning of the earth on its axis, makes the difference of day and night ; it being day in those parts of the earth, which are turned towards the sun ; and night in those parts which are in the shade, or turned from the sun. The annual revolution of the earth in the ecliptic, is the cause of the different seasons, and of the several lengths of days and nights, in every part of the world, in the course of the year. But before we enter upon the more particular illustration of the diurnal and annual motions of the earth, together with the different lengths of days and nights, and all the beautiful variety of seasons, depending on those motions, it F2 70 The Earth considered as a Planet. may be necessary to make the reader ac- quainted with the principle circles of the globe, as they will greatly assist him in comprehending those phenomena. This information he may attain suffi- ciently for his present purpose in a quar- ter of an hour, if he sets the ball of a ter- restrial globe before him, or looks at the figure of it, wherein these circles are drawn and named. The Poles are the two extremities of the earth's axis ; or those points where the imaginary line, round which it per- forms its daily revolutions, meets the earth's surface ; that which is directed towards the most northern point of the heavens, being called the north pole ; and that which is directed towards tke most southern point, the south pole ; so that they are di am e trie ally opposite to each other, and always preserve the same rela- tive situation. It is also to be observed, that these two points have not been arbi- trarily assumed by geographers and as- tronomers, to answer their particular pur- poses, as they are pointed out to us by the nature and constitution of the globe, and are easily distinguished from all / The Earth considered as a Planet. 71 others. The nearer we approach to them, the more we find the earth becomes bar- ren and inhospitable ; so that, under the poles, the cold is so excessive, that the country must be nearly uninhabitable. Imagine now a circle to be drawn round the globe, exactly in the middle, between these two points, and this will be the Equator ; which, properly speaking, is a great circle of the earth, that separates the northern from the southern hemis- phere, and is every where at an equal dis- tance from the poles. This circle is al- so no less remarkable, on account of its situation, than the poles ; the heat being here almost as intense as the cold is there. Every place is said to have north or south latitude as it is on the northern or southern side of this great circle. The Tropics are lesser circles parallel to the equator, and each of them is 23 1 degrees from it ; a degree in this sense being the 360th part of any great circle which divides the earth into two equal parts. The northern tropic touches the ecliptic at the beginning of Cancer, and is thence called the Tropic of Cancer ; the southern tropic, touching the ecliptic 72 The Earth considered as a Planet. at the beginning of Capricorn, is therefore called the Tropic of Capricorn. The Arctic Circle has the north pole for its centre, and is just as far from the north pole as the tropics are from the equator ; and the Antarctic Circle (hid by the sup- posed convexity of the figure) is just as far from the south pole, every way round , it. The circles 12. 1. 2. 3. 4. &c. are meri- dians to all places they pass through ; and we must suppose thousands more to be drawn, because every place that is ever so little to the east or west of any other place, has a different meridian from that other place. All the meridians meet in the poles ; and whenever the sun's cen- ter is passing over any meridian, in his apparent motion round the earth, it is mid-day or noon to all places on that me- ridian. The longitude of a place is its distance east or west from the first meri- dian, reckoned in degrees, minutes, &c. upon the equator. Supposing we call London the first, it will cut the equator in two opposite points at the distance of one hundred and eighty degrees each way ; and as the equator is the boundary The Earth considered as a Planet. 73 which separates the northern hemisphere from the southern, so this circle may be considered as the boundary which sepa- rates the eastern hemisphere from the western. The broad space lying between the tropics, like a girdle surrounding the globe, is called the Torrid Zone, because the sun is at one time or other perpendi- cular over every part of it, and extreme- ly torrifies or heats it. The space be- tween the tropic of Cancer and arctic circle is called the North Temperate Zone; that between the tropic of Capricorn and the antarctic circle, the South Temperate Zone: from their enjoying a mean or moderate degree of heat ; and the two circular spaces bounded by the polar cir- cles are the two Frigid Zones ; so named because of the intense cold which reigns in those regions the greatest part of the year ; and they are denominated north or south, from that pole which is in the cen- ter of the one or the other of them. Of the Seasons, s?c. -Nature is always grand in her designs, sublimity and sim- plicity are the striking characteristics of 74 The Earth considered as a Planet. her workmanship. From a few simple principles she produces the most aston- ishing effects, and charms us no less by the infinite diversity of her operations, than by the skill and contrivance which are manifested in the performance of them. Of all the effects resulting from her laws none is more simple nor more pleasing to a philosophic mind than the provision that is made for the alternate succession of day and night, and the regular return of the seasons. The phe- nomena depend upon the most simple and evident principle. We have the one merely from the rotation of our globe on its axis, and the other from the inclina- of that axis to the plane of its orbit. The axis of the earth being inclined 23-| degrees to the plane of its orbit, makes it, in moving round the sun, have sometimes one of its poles and some- times the other nearer that luminary. The absence of the sun's light pro- duces a proportionable degree of cold ; hence the seasons are, in the northern and southern parts of the globe, distinctly marked by different degrees of heat and sold. It is this annual turning of the The Earth considered as a Planet. 75 poles towards the sun, that occasions the very long days in the northern and south- ern parts. It is owing to the same cause, that the sun seems to rise higher in the heavens during summer than in winter ; and this alternate sinking and rising is perceptible over the whole globe. In order to illustrate this subject let us now take a view of the earth in its an- nual course round the sun, considering' its orbit as having no inclination | and its axis as inclining 23 -| degrees from a line perpendicular to the plane of its orbit, and keeping the same oblique di- rection in all parts of its annual course ; or, as commonly termed, keeping always parallel to itself. In Fig. 2 let S represent the sun, the four globes the earth in different parts of its orbit, receiving from its changing po- sition the varying seasons. Ns its axis, N its north pole, s its south pole. As it goes round the sun, according to the order of the signs of the zodiac, its axis Ns keeps the same obliquity, and is still par- allel to itself. We shall commence its annual round at the first point of Libra, when the sun, as 76 The Earth considered as a Planet. seen from the earth will appear to enter Aries. At this time, namely the 20th of March, the sun will be in the equinoctial, and all parts of the earth will be equally enlightened from pole to pole, and the days and nights equal all over the world, for every part comes into the light at six in the morning, and goes into the dark at six in the evening. As the earth passes on in the order of the signs, in about three months, viz. on the 21st of June, it will arrive at the beginning of Capricorn, and the sun, as seen from the earth, will ap- pear at the beginning of Cancer ; during which time, by the inclined position of the earth's axis, the north pole will have gra- dually advanced into the enlightened hemisphere ; so that the whole northern polar circle will be therein, while the southern pole ir> immerged in obscurity ; the northern parts of the world will enjoy long days, while they are short in the southern parts. In this situation of the earth the tropic of Cancer is in the light from five in the morning till seven at night, the parallel of London from a quarter be- fore four till a quarter after eight ; and the polar circle just touches the dark, so The Earth considered as a Planet. 77 that the sun has only the lower half of his disk hid from the inhabitants on that cir- cle for a few minutes about midnight. After this the days begin to shorten in the northern parts of the world, and the nights lengthen in proportion as the earth advances to the first point of Aries, at which it arrives on the 23d of September, when the sun, as seen from the earth, will appear in .Libra. On this day the sun will be in the equinoctial again, and the days and nights will again be equal all over the globe. As the earth pro- ceeds on its orbit from this point, the north pole gradually goes into the dark ; and the south pole advances into the err- lightened hemisphere ; and on the 22d of December, when the earth enters Cancer, and the sun appears at Capricorn, the north pole will be as far as it can be in the dark, which is 23-| degrees, equal to the inclination of the earth's axis from a perpendicular to its orbit : and then, the northern parts are as much in the dark as they were in the light on the 21st oijime; the winter nights being as long as the summer days, and the winter days as short as the summer nights. G 78 The Earth considered as a Planet. Thus we see while the earth is moving from Libra through Capricorn to Aries, the north pole remains in the illuminated hemisphere, and will therefore have six months of continual day. But in the other half year, while the earth is moving from Aries through Cancer to Libra, the north pole is turned from the sun, and therefore in darkness, but the south pole is in the illuminated hemisphere. Hence it is easy to perceive, that the inhabitants of the southern hemisphere have the same vicissitudes with those of the northern, though not at the same time, it being win- ter in one hemisphere when it is summer in the other. During this annual course of the earth there are four days in her orbit particu- larly to be remarked ; these astronomers have distinguished by the names of the solstitial and equinoctial days. The sol- stitial days are those on which the sun ap- pears most to the northward and the southward ; they are our longest and shortest days, and are called the -winter and summer solstices. The equinoctial days are those on which the sun appears in the equator, and the days are equal to The Earth considered as a Planet. 79 the nights, which is twice in every annual revolution of the earth, and are called the autumnal and vernal equinoxes. The earth's annual motion causes an apparent daily declination of the sun, or in other words, he appears at different dis- tances from the equator every diurnal turn of the earth on its axis. Thus, about the 22d of December, when the earth is in Cancer, the sun will be over the tropic of Capricorn ; and consequently, by the earth's rotation on its axis, the inhabitants of every part of this circle will success- ively have the sun in their zenith, or, in other words, he will be vertical to them that day at noon. About the 20th of March the earth is at Libra, and the sun will then appear in Aries ; a central solar ray will terminate upon the surface of the earth in the equator ; and therefore the sun appears to be carried round in the celestial equator, and is successively ver- tical to those who live under that circle. About the 21st of June, when the earth is in Capricorn, a central solar ray ter- minates on the surface of the earth, in the northern tropic, and for that day the sun appears to be carried round in the tro- 80 The Earth considered as a Planet, pic of Cancer, and is vertical to those who live under that circle. About the 23d of September the earth is in Aries, and the sun in Libra, and the central so- lar ray again terminates at the equator ; consequently the sun again appears in the celestial equator, and is vertical to those who live under it. We have seen, that, as the sun appears to move in the ecliptic, from the vernal equinox to the tropic of Cancer, it gets to the north of ths equator, or its decli- ivition towards our pole increases. There- fore, from the vernal equinox, when the days and nights are equal, till the sun comes to the tropic of Cancer, our days lengthen, and our nights shorten ; but, when the sun comes to the tropic of Can- cer, it is then in its utmost northern lim- it, and returns in the ecliptic to the equa- tor again. During this return of the sun, its declination tov/urds our pole decrea^s, and consequently the days decrease, and rights increase, till the sun is ar- rived in die equator 'again, and is in the autumnal equinoctial point, when the (I ivs ts will ngain be equal. As the sun moves from thence towards the tro- The Earth considered as a Planet, 81 pic of Capricorn, it gets to the south of the equator ; or its declination towards the south pole increases. Therefore, at that time of year, our days shorten, and our nights lengthen, till the sun arrives at the tropic of Capricorn; but, when the sun is arrived there, it is then at its utmost southeren limit, and returns in the ecliptic to the equator again. Dur- ing this return, its distance from our pole lessens, and consequently the days will lengthen, as the nights will shorten, till they become equal, when the sun is come round to the vernal equinoctial point. The earth's orbit being elliptical, and the sun constantly keeping in its lower focus, which is 1,377,000 miles from the middle point of the longer axis, the earth comes twice so much, or 2, 754,000 miles nearer the sun at one time of the year than at another: for the sun appearing under a larger angle in our winter than summer, proves that the earth must be nearer the sun in the former season than in the latter. How then does it happen that we have not the hottest weather when we are at the least distance from the sun : The earth is above 2,000,000 of 02 82 The Earth considered as a Planet. miles nearer to the sun in December than it is in June, and yet in June it is the middle of summer, and in December the depth of winter, which seems a paradox. To obviate this apparent contradiction* it may be observed that the eccentricity of the earth's orbit bears no greater pro- portion to the earth's mean distance from the sun than about 1 to 60, and therefore this small difference of distance cannot occasion any great variation in the heat and cold of the different seasons. But the principal cause of this difference is, that in winter the sun's rays fall so ob- liquely upon us, that any given number of them is spread over a much greater portion of the earth's surface where we live ; and therefore each point must then have fewer rays than in summer.- Moreover, there comes a greater degree of cold in the long winter nights, than there can return of heat in so short days ; 1 on both these accounts the cold must increase. But in summer the sun's rays fall more perpendicularly upon us, and therefore com* with greater force, and in greater numbers i>.. the same place ; and by their kr.ig continuance, a much great- The Earth considered as a Planet. 83 er degree of heat is imparted by day than can fly off by night, so that the heat, on all these accounts, will continue to in- crease. Thus we see by what simple principles the bountiful Author of Nature has pro- vided us with such a pleasing succession of scenes, summer, winter, spring, and autumn, lead us* insensibly through the varied circle of the year ; and are no less pleasing to the mind, than necessary to- wards bringing to maturity the various productions of the earth. Whether the sun flames in the solstice, or pours his mild effulgence from the equator, we equally rejoice in his presence, and adore that omniscient Being who gave him his appointed course, and prescribed the bounds which he cannot pass. by the daily motion of the earth the rising sun comes within 18 degrees of the horizon, we perceive a faint light begin to appear, which increases, and the magnificent theatre oi the universe opens gradually to our view being fully risen, he rides in all his brightness through the vault of heaven, and approaches the west- 84 The Earth considered as a Planet. era boundary of our sight, when the light begins to decrease, and gradually dimin- ishes till he is 18 degrees below the hori- zon, when dark night commences. This intermediate light is called the crepuscu- lum, or the morning and evening twilight. As the sun enlightens only one half of the earth at once as it turns round its axis, he rises to some places at the same moments of absolute time when he sets to others ; and when it is mid-day to some places, it is mid-night to others. To every place 15 degrees eastward from any given meridian, it is noon an hour sooner than on that meridian ; be- cause their meridian comes to the sun an hour sooner ; and to all places 15 de- grees westward, it is noon an hour later because their meridian comes an hour later to the sun, and so on : every 15 de- grees of motion causing an hour's differ ence of time. Therefore they who have noon an hour later than we, have their meridian, that is, their longitude, 15 de- grees westward from us : and they who have noon an hour sooner than we, have their meridian 15 degrees eastward from ours ; and so for every hour's difference The Earth considered as a Planet. 85 of time 15 degrees difference of longi- tude. Consequently, if the beginning or ending of a lunar eclipse be observed, suppose at London, to be exactly at mid- night, and in some other place at 11 at night, that place is 15 degrees westward from the meridian of London ; if the same eclipse be observed at one in the morn- ing at another place, that place is 15 de- grees eastward from the said meridian. Of the Precession of the Equinoxes, &?c. Beside the changes in the length ol the days already described in the different seasons, there is another sort of change, not so obviously noticeable. The day and night together, or, in general, 24 hours, form the natural or solar day ; and this period of time also varies in its length. The inequality of the solar day is produced by two causes, either o which singly would yield the effect ; these are the obliquity of the ecliptic, and the earth's unequal motion therein. The earth's motion on its axis being uniform and equal at all times of the year, its days would be equal, if its orbit were a perfect circle, and its axis perpendicular to the 86 The Earth considered as a Planet. plane of its orbit ; but the earth's annual motion in an elliptic orbit, causes the sun's apparent motion in the heavens to be un- equal. When the sun's annual motion in the heavens appears slowest, it is noon, or 12 on the sun-dial, before it is the same hour on a true-going clock ; and when quickest, it is 12 by the clock be- fore the sun be over our meridian. Although the earth be said to complete an orbit round the sun in the course of a year, it does not return exactly to the place it set out from, neither is its cir- cuit completed exactly in a year. Adopt- ing, therefore, the apparent motion in- stead of the real ; if the sun set out as from any star, or other fixed point in the heavens, at the moment it is departing from the equinoctial, or from either tro- pic, it will come to the same equinox, or tropic again, 20 min. 17- sec. of time, or 50 sec. of a degree, before it completes its circuit round the heavens, so as to ar- rive at the same fixed star or point from whence it sets out ; for the equinoctial points recede 50 seconds of a degree west- ward every year, contrary to the sun's annual progressive motion. This is call- ed the Precession of the Equinoxes, The Earth considered as a Planet. 87 When the sun arrives at the same equi- noctial or solstitial point, he finishes what we call the tropical year ; which, by ob- servation, is found to contain 365 days 5 hours 48 minutes 57 seconds: and when he arrives at the same fixed star again, as seen from the earth, he completes the sidereal year, which contains 365 days 6 hours 9 minutes 14~ seconds. The sidereal year is therefore 2O min- utes 17- seconds longer than the solar or tropical year, and 9 minutes 14 1 seconds longer than the Julian or civil year, which we state at 365 days 6 hours : so that the civil year is almost a meanbe- twixt the sidereal and tropical. The anticipation of the equinoxes, and consequently of the seasons, is by no means owing to the precession of the equinoctial and solstitial points in the heavens (which can only affect the appa- rent motions, places and declinations of the fixed stars) but to the difference be- tween the civil and solar year, which is 1 1 minutes 3 seconds ; the civil year con- taining 365 days 6 hours, and the solar year 365 days 5 hours 48 minutes 57 seconds, 88 The Earth considered as a Planet. The above 11 minutes 3 seconds, by which the civil or Julian year exceeds the solar, amounts to 11 days in 1433 years, and so much our seasons have fall- en back with respect to the days of the months, since the time of the Nicene Council in A. D. 325, and therefore in order to bring back all the fasts and fes- tivals to the days then settled, it was re- quisite to suppress 1 1 nominal days. And that the same seasons might be kept to the same times of the year for the future, to leave out the bissextile-day in February at the end of every century of years not di- visible by 4 ; reckoning them only com- mon years, as the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries, viz. the years 1700, 1800, 1900, cc. because a day intercalated every fourth year was too much, and retail, the bissextile-day at the end of those cen- turies of years which are divisible by 4, as the 16th, 20th, and 24th centuries ; viz. the years 1600, 2000, 2400, &c. Other- wise, in length of time, the seasons would be quite ^reversed with regard to thr months of the year ; though it would have required near 23,783 years to have brought about such a totaj change. The Earth considered as a Planet, 89 This new form of reckoning was or- dained by Pope Gregory, and is there- fore called the Gregorian, or the new style, and has been adopted by almost all the enlightened nations of the world ; there are some, however, who still reckon according to the old style, viz. as if no alteration had been made by Pope Gre- gory. H 9'0 Atmosphere, CHAP. VI. Of the Air and Atmosphere. WE have already considered the earth as a planet, or one of the great masses of matter moving about the sun ; we shall now consider it as it is made up of its several parts, abstracting from its diur- nal and annual motions. The exterior part of this our habitable world is the air or atmosphere ; a light, thin fluid, or springy body, that incom- passes the solid earth on all sides, and partakes of all its motions., both annual and diurnal. The composition of that part of our atmosphere properly called air, was till lately but very little known. Formerly it was supposed to be a simple, homoge- neous, and elementary fluid. But the experiments of Dr. Priestley and others have discovered, that even the purest kind of air, which they call vita'. Atmosphere. 91 plilogisticated, is in reality a compound, and might be artificially produced in va- rious ways. This dephlogisticated air,> however, is but a small part of the com- position of our atmosphere. By accu- rate experiments, the air we usually breathe, is composed of only one-fourth part of this dephlogisticated air, or per- haps less, the other three parts, or more, consisting of what Dr. Priestly calls phlo~ gisticated, and M. Lavoisier, in the new chemistry, mephitzc, or azotic air, which cannot be breathed, and in which ani- mals die. Though air seems to be a kind of re- pository, wherein all the poisonous efflu- via arising from putrid and corrupted mat- ters are lodged ; yet it has a wonderful facilitv of purifying itself, and of deposi- ting those vapours contained in it ; so that it never becomes noxious except in particular places, arid for a short time ; the general mass remaining upon all oc- casions pretty much the same. The way in which this purifaction is effected is dif- ferent, according to the nature of the va- pour with which the air is loaded. That which most universally prevails is water ; 92 Atmosphere. and from experiments it appears, that the quantity of aqueous vapour contained in the atmosphere is immense. Dr. Halley, from an experiment on the eva- poration from a fluid surface heated to the same degree with that given by our meridian sun, has calculated, that the evaporation from the Mediterranean Sea in a summer's day is 5280 millions of tons of water, which is more than it re- ceives from all the nine large rivers that empty themselves into it. Dr. Watson, in his Chemical Essays, has given an ac- count of some experiments made with a view to determine the quantity of the wa- ter raised from the "earth itself alone in time of drought. He informs us, that when there had been no rain for above a month, and the grass was become quite brown and parched, the evaporation from an acre was not less than 1600 gallons in twenty-four hours. Making afterwards two experiments, when the ground had been wetted by a thunder-shower the day before, the one gave 1973, the other 1905 gallons, in twelve hours. From this the air is every moment purified by the ascent of the vapour, which, flying off in- Atmosphere. 93 to the clouds, thus leaves room for the exhalation of fresh quantities ; so that as the vapour is considerably lighter than the common atmosphere, and in conse- quence ascends with great velocity, the air during all this time is said to be dry, notwithstanding the vast quantity of aque- ous fluid that passes through it. In the physical economy also, another provision is made for the continual reno- vation of the atmosphere. Plants derive subsistence from the very air that is unfit for animal life, and in return, actually emit that vital or dephlogisticated air, upon the enjoyment of which the latter depends. Thus we see a constant circulation of benefits maintained between the two great provinces of organized nature. The plant purifies what the animal has poison- ed ; in return, the contaminated air is more than ordinarily nutritious to the plant. Agitation with water appears to be another of these restoratives. The foulesi air shaken in a bottle with water for a sufficient length of time, recovers a great degree of its purity. Here, then again, allowing for the scale upon which nature works, we see the salutary effects H2 94 Atmosphere. of storms and tempests. The yesty waves, which confound the heaven and the sea, are doing the very thing which is done in the bottle, and are a perpetual scarce of freshness to our atmosphere. The atmosphere, as we have seen, contains a great deal of water, together with a vast heterogeneous collection of particles raised from all bodies of matter on the surface of the earth, by effluvia, ex- halations, &c. so that it may be consider- ed as a chaos f the particles of all sorts of matter confusedly mingled together. And hence the atmosphere has been con- sidered as a large chemical vessel, in which the matter of all kinds of subluna- ry bodies is copiously floating ; and thus exposed to the continual action of that immense surface, the sun ; from whence proceed innumerable operations, subli- mations, separations, compositions, di- gestions,fermentations, putrefactions, &c There is, however,one substance, nam- ly, the electrical fluid, which is very dis- tinguishable in the mass of the atmos- phere. To measure the absolute quanti- ty of this fluid, either in the atmosphere, or any other substance, is perhaps impos- Atmosphere. 95 sible ; and all that we know on this sub- ject is that the electric fluid pervades the atmosphere ; that it appears to be more abundant in the superior than the inferior regions ; that it seems to be the imme- diate bond of connection between the at- mosphere and the water which is suspen- ded in it ; and that, by its various opera- tions, the phenomena of the meteors are occasioned. It is the opinion of the most celebrated philosophers of the present day, that the electric fluid is no other than the light of the sun ; that it issues from that lumina- ry in the pure state of electricity, that joining the particles of our atmosphere, it becomes light, and uniting with the gros- ser earth Jire. The evaporation of wa- ter is attended with an absorption of this fluid from the 'surface of our globe, and, on the other hand, the conversion of steam into water, is attended with a de- position of this subtle fluid ; so that there is a circulation in the electric fluid as there is in the water. It descends origin- ally from the sun ; pervades the whole srubstance of the globe ; and perspiring, as it were, at every pore, ascends beyond 96 Atmosphere. the clouds ; and, passing the extreme boundaries of our atmosphere, returns to the sun from whence it came. The uses of the atmosphere are so ma- ny and great, that it seems indeed abso- lutely necessary, not only to the comfort and convenience of men, but even to the existence of all animal and vegetable life, and to the very constitution of all kinds of matter whatever, and without which they would not be what they are ; for by it we live, breathe, and have our being ; and by insinuating itself into all the va- cuities of bodies, it becomes the great spring of most of the mutations here be- low, as generation,corruption,dissolution, &c. and without which none of these op- erations could be carried on. Without the atmosphere, no animal could exist, or indeed be produced; neither any plant, all vegetation ceasing without its aid ; there would be neither rain nor dews to moisten the face of the ground : and, though we might perceive the sun and stars like bright specks, we should be in utter darkness, having none of what we call day-light, or even twilight: nor would either fire or heat exist without it. In Atmosphere. 97 short, the nature and constitution of all matter would be changed and cease; wan- ting this universal bond and constituting principle* As to the weight and pressure of the air, it is evident that the mass of the at- mosphere, in common with all other mat- ter, must be endued with weight and pressure ; and this principle was asserted by almost all philosophers, both ancient and modern. But it was only by means of the experiments made with pumps and the barometrical tube, by Galileo and Torricelli, that we came to the proof, not only that the atmosphere is endued with a pressure, but also what the measure and quantity of that pressure is. Thus it is found, that the pressure of the atmos- phere sustains a column of quicksilver, in the tube of the barometer, of about thirty inches in height : it therefore follows, that the whole pressure of the atmosphere is equal to the weight of a column of quick silver, of an equal base, and thirty inches height: and, because a cubical inch of quicksilver is found to weigh nearly half a pound avoirdupois, therefore the whole thirty inches, or the weight of the atmosr 98 Atmosphere. phere on every square inch of surface is equal to 15lb. Again, it has been found that the pressure of the atmosphere bal- ances, in the case of pumps, &c. a column of water of about 3 | feet high ; and the cubical foot of water weighing just 100O ounces, or 6~^.b. 34-| times 62-|, or 2158 Ib. will be the weight of the column of water, or of the atmosphere, on a base of a square foot; and consequently the 144th part of this, or 15lb. is the weight of the atmosphere on a square inch ; the same as before. Hence Mr. Cotes computed, that the pressure of this ambient fluid on the whole surface of the earth, is equiva- lent to that of a globe of lead of sixty miles in diameter. And hence also it appears, that the pressure upon the human body must be very considerable ; for as every square inch of surface sustains a pressure of 15lb. every square foot will sustain 144 times as much, or 2160lb. then, if the whole surface of a man's body be suppo- sed to contain fifteen square feet, which is pretty near the truth, he must sustain 15 times 2160, or 32400lb. that is near 14-| tons weight for his ordinary load* By this enormous pressure we should un- Atmosphere. 98 doubtedly be crushed in a moment, if all parts of our bodies were not filled either with air or some other ela&tic fluid, the spring of which is just sufficient to coun- terbalance the weight of the atmosphere,, But, whatever this fluid may be, it is cer- tain that it is just able to counteract the weight of the atmosphere, and no more : for if any considerable pressure be super- added to that of the air, as by going into deep water ,or the like,it is always severe- ly felt, let it be ever so equable, at least when the change is made suddenly ; and if, on the other hand, the pressure of the atmosphere be taken off from any part of the human body, as the hand for instance, when put over an open receiver, from whence the air is afterwards extracted, the weight of the external atmosphere then prevails, and we imagine the hand strongly sucked down into the glass. The difference in the weight of the air which our bodies sustain at one time more than another, is also very consider- able, from the natural changes in the state of the atmosphere. This change takes place chiefly in countries at some distance from the equator ; and, as the barometer 10O Atmosphere. varies at times from twenty-eight to thitv ty-one inches, or about one tenth of the whole quantity, it follows, that this diffe- rence amounts to about a ton and a half on the whole body of a man, which he therefore sustains at one time more than at another. On the increase of this natu- ral weight, the weather is commonly fine, and we feel ourselves what we call braced, and more alert and active ; but, on the contrary, when the weight of the air di- minishes, the weather is bad, and people feel a listlesness and inactivity about them. And hence it is no wonder that persons suffer very much in their health, from such changes in the atmosphere es- pecially when they take place very sud- denly. The weight of the atmosphere has great influence on a number of physical pheno- mena. It compresses all bodies, and op- poses their dilatation. It is an obstacle to the evaporation of fluids. The water of the sea is by this cause preserved in its liquid state, without which it would take the vaporous form, as we see in the vacu- um of the air pump. The pressure of the air on our bodies preserves the state Atmosphere. 101 both of the solids and fluids ; and from the want of this due pressure it is that on the summits of lofty mountains the blood often issues from the pores of the skin, or from the lungs. Various attempts have been made to ascertain the height to which the atmos- phere is extended all round the earth. These commenced soon after it was dis- covered by means of the Torricellian tube that air is endued with weight and pres- sure. And had notthe air an elastic pow- er, but were it every where of the same density, from the surface of the earth to the extreme limit of the atmosphere, like water, which is equally dense at all depths it would be a very easy matter to deter- mine its height from its density and the column of mercury it would counterbal- ance in the barometer tube : for, it having been observed, that the weight of the at- mosphere is equivalent to a column of thirty inches or 2-| feet of quicksilver and the density of the former to that of the latter, as 1 to 1104O; therefore the height of the uniform atmosphere would be 11040 times 2 feet, that is, 27600 feet, or little more than 5^ miles. But the air, I 102 Atmosphere. , by its elastic quality, expands and con- tracts ; and it being found, by repeated experiments in most nations of Europe, that the spaces it occupies, when compres- sed by different weights, are reciprocally .proportional to the weights themselves ; or, that the more the air is pressed, so much the less space it takes up ; it follows that the air in the upper regions of the at- mosphere must grow continually more and more rare, as it ascends higher ; and indeed that, according to that law, it must necessarily be extended to an indef- inite height. At the height of 3-| miles the density of the atmosphere is nearly 2 times rarer than it is at the surface of the earth ; at the height of seven miles, 4 times rarer ; and so on, according to thr following table. Height in miles. Number of times rarer 3* 2 7 4 14 16 21 64 N 28 256 35 1024 42 4096 ' 16384 Atmosphere,, 105 56 65536 63 262144 7O 1048576 By pursuing these calculations, it might be easily shewn, that a cubic inch of the air we breathe would be so much rarefied at the height of 500 miles, that it would fill a sphere equal in diameter to the orbit of Saturn. Hence we may per- ceive how very soon the air becomes so extremely rare and light, as to be utterly imperceptible to all experience ; and that hence, if all the planets have such atmos- pheres as our earth, they will, at the dis- tances of the planets from one another, be so extremely attenuated, as to give no sensible resistance to the planets in their motion round the sun for many, perhaps hundreds or thousands of ages to come. Even at the height of about fifty miles, it is so rare as to have no sensible effect on the rays of light. Mr. Boyle in his physico-mechanical experiments concerning the air, declares it probable that the atmosphere may be several hundred miles high ; which is easy to be admitted, when we consider^ what he proves in another part of the 104 Atmosphere. same treatise, viz. that the air here about the surface of the earth, when the pressure is taken from it, dilates into 10,000, and even at last into 13,679 times its space ; and this altogether by its own expansive force, without the help of fire. In fact, it appears, that the air we breathe is compressed by its own \veight into at least the 13,679th part of the space it would possess in vacua. But, if the same air be condensed by art, the space it would take up when dilated, to that it possesses when condensed, will be, accor- ding to the same author's experiments, as 550.0OO to 1. Our direct experiments, however, not reaching to any great heights into the re- gions of the atmosphere, and not know- ing how far air may be expanded, we are incapable of determining to what height the atmosphere is actually extended. Meteors. 105 CHAP. VII. Of the Meteors. WE have seen that the atmosphere is a vast laboratory, in which nature ope- rates immense analyses, solutions, preci- pitations, and combinations ; it is a grand receiver, in which all the attenuated, vo- latilized productions of terrestrial bodies are received, mingled, agitated, combined and separated. Considered in this view, the atmospheric air is a chaos, an inde- terminate mixture of mineral, vegetable, and animal effluvia, which the electric fluid is pervading and traversing contin- ually. The grand changes it experiences, and of which we are sensible in ex- tensive spaces by the appearance of wa- ter, light, or noise, are called meteors* As the state of the atmosphere is ever varying, the meteors assume different forms ; some delighting us with their ap- pearance, while others wear a terrifying 12 1O6 Meteors. aspect. In this repository is collected the gentle dew and hoar-frost ; here clouds are gathered and carried along by the wind, to refresh the earth in falling showers, give rise to rivers, spread vast inundations of water over the fields, or lay them under a covering of snow or hail ; here mock-suns, mock-moons, ha- loes, and rainbows make their gaudy but transitory appearance ; and here the wa- ter-spout, dreadful to the mariner ; here rolls the dreadful thunder, here lightnings dart their vivid flames, and sometimes, striking upon the earth, destroy its pro- ductions, fill its inhabitants with terror, and sometimes strike them dead ; here the auroras, or streamers, the ignesfatui, or wandering fires, called also Jack with the Lantern ; here falling stars, as they are ignorantly termed, or fiery balls of va- rious sizes, appear with splendour during the gloom of night, and astonish man- kind, who too often seem willing, with superstitious awe, to find portentous o- mens of dire calamities in these curious phenomena, rather than investigate their causes or discover their uses. Meteors* 107 To account for these various appear- ances in a satisfactory manner, it is plain that we ought to have an intimate ac- quaintance with the constitution of the at- mosphere ; with the nature of those pow- erful agents by which it appears to be principally influenced, viz. fire, light, and electric fluid ; and with their peculiar modes of operation and action upon one another and upon the atmosphere, and this in every possible variety of circum- stances. Nor is even all this sufficient : the various phenomena of rain, wind, snow, thunder, heat, cold, &c. are known to depend very much upon the situation of different places on the surface of the earth ; and the occasional variations are with great reason suspected to proceed, partly at least, from changes which take place in the bowels of the earth : whence we ought not only to be perfectly well ac- quainted with geography, but with mine- ralogy also: and that to an extent at which human knowledge will probably never arrive. In a subject so very difficult, it is not to be 'supposed that any thing like a certain and established theory can be laid down 108 Meteors. in this little elementary work. As eva- poration, however, seems particularly to be concerned in the production of the me- teors, we shall take a view of that opera- tion of nature, the extent of which we have noticed in the preceding chapter. This process may be reckoned in a par- ticular manner the effect of heat. Upon this principle vapour is shown to be a compound of water and fire ; and such it is supposed to be by philosophers of the highest rank. In considering this opera- tion, however, as carried on by nature, we shall soon find, that it proceeds in a manner very different from what takes place in our chemical operations. In the latter, evaporation is merely the effect of heat; and the process cannot go on with- out a considerable degree of it. In the natural way, on the contrary, the process goes on under almost every degree of cold we know ; the vapours ascend to a height which has never yet been determined ; and, from the extreme cold which they sustain, show evidently that they are con- nected with our atmosphere by mrans of some other agent besides heat. From the continual ascent of vapour indeed, if the Meteors. 109 operations of nature were of the same kind with those of art, the upper parts of our atmosphere would be always involved in a fog, by reason of the condensation of the vast quantity which continually as- cends thither : but so far is this from be- ing the case, that in those elevated regions to which the vapours continually ascend, the air is much drier than at the surface of the ground. From many experiments, indeed, it is evident, that water, after being reduced into a state of vapour, is capable of un- dergoing a certain change, by which it lays aside its fluidity entirely, and even to appearance its specific gravity ; so that it becomes, as far as we can judge, a substance totally different from what it was before. After water has attained to this state, our inquiries concerning it must in a great measure cease ; but as it is not in the immediate product of evapo- ration that rain has its source, and as va- pours change their nature in the atmos- phere, so as to be no longer sensible to the hygrometer or to the eye, and do not be- come vapour again till clouds appear, we must acknowledge it to be very probable, 110 Meteors. that the intermediate state of vapour is no other than air ; and that the clouds do not proceed from any distinct fluid in the at- mosphere, but from a decomposition of a part of the air itself, perfectly similar to the rest. Granting this to be the case, and we can scarcely hope for a more probable conjecture on the subject, the decompo- sition of the vapour will be easily accoun- ted for. If by any natural process the water can be con verted into air, and if the latter is only water partially decomposed; then, by an inversion of the process, air may be instantly re-converted into water, and will become visible in fog or mist, or be condensed into rain, consisting of greater or smaller drops, according to the degree to which this inverted process is carried. It is generally supposed by meteorolo- gists, from all the clouds, fogs, hail, rain, and snow, being electrified, that the elec- tric fluid is the agent employed in the for- mation of these meteors, and that it is this fluid which acts in the re-conversion of air into water. This process may be par- ticularly observed in the summer season, Meteors. 1 1 1 when the horizon is suddenly overcast, and a copious torrent of rain ensues, which cannot be from the rising of any aqueous vapours at the time, but must be from a precipitation of water that existed in an invisible state in the atmosphere. Water may therefore exist in air ; 1st, in an invisible state, which is the case when the dissolving power of air is considera- ble ; 2dly, in a state of incipient separa- tion, in which case it forms clouds, mists ^ or fogs ; 3dly, and lastly, in a state of ac- tual separation, in which case it forms ei- ther rain, properly so called, or snow, or hail. Clouds are those well known assembla- ges of vapours that float in the atmosphere, have different degrees of opacity, which arise from their extent and density, and generally have pretty well defined boun- daries. Their height above the surface of the earth (we mean not above the moun- tains) is various, but hardly ever exceeds a mile or a mile and a half. In hot wea- ther, or hot climates, the clouds, being more rarefied, are lighter, and ascend much higher than they do in colder cli- mates, or colder weather : and indeed, in 112 Meteors. cold weather the clouds frequently touch the very surface of the earth ; for a fog may with propriety be called a cloud close to the ground. A mist is a very indefinite word. It means an incipient formation of clouds, or haziness ; and it often denotes a very small rain, or deposition of water in par- ticles so small as not to be visible singly. The snow is formed when the atmos- phere is so cold as to freeze the particles of rain as soon as they are formed, and the adherence of several of those parti- cles to each other, which meet and cling to each other as they descend through the air, forms the usual fleeces of snow, which are larger, (since they are longer in descending, and have a greater oppor- tunity of meeting) when the clouds are higher than when they are lower. The hail differs from snow in its con- sisting of much more solid, and much more dehned pieces of congealed water. It is sui posed that the water, already formed into considerable drops, is driv- en and detained a considerable time through a cold region of the atmosphere, by the wind, which almost always accom- Meteors. 113 panics a fall of hail. But the globes of ice, or hail-stones, in a fall of hail, some- times far exceed the usual size of the 'drops of rain ; which shews that by the action of the wind, the congealed parti- cles must be forced to adhere to each oth- er ; and, in fact, though the small hail- stones are more uniformly solid and glo- bular, the large ones almost always con- sist of a harder nucleus, which is sur- rounded by a softer substance, and some- times by various distinct pieces of ice t just agglutinated. Their shape is sel- dom perfectly globular. The phenomena of dew and hoar-frost seem to proceed from a quantity of aque- ous and undecomposed vapour which always exists in the atmosphere ; and which, being raised by mere heat, is con- densed by mere cold, without undergo- ing that process by which water is chan- ged into air. If the cold be very intense, hoar-frost appears instead of dew ; which is nothing more than the dew frozen after it falls upon the ground, in the same manner that the vapour in a warm room congeals on the inside of the windpws in a frosty night. K Meteors. Lightning is found to be a flash, pro- duced by the electrical fluid rush ing from? one part into another ; and thunder the sound of the rushing torrent, reverbera- ted among the clouds. The aurora bo- realis, or northern dawn, is likewise an electrical phenomenon. It is a lambent or flashing light, seen at night in some periods more often than in others, espe- cially about the poles. The fery -balls, \vhich are seen shooting through the at- mosphere in the night, of various magni- tudes and of different forms, seem all to rise from inflammable vapours, taking lire from their fermenting, or effervescing in the air. The Rainbotv is one of the most sur- prising of the works of God, which the Hebrews called the bow of God, and the Greeks the Daughter of Wonder. This phenomenon is seen in the falling rain or dew, and not in the cloud whence that rain or dew proceeds ; it is caused by a reflection and refraction of the sun's rays from the globular particles of rain. The face of this beautiful iris, or bow, is ting- ed with all the primogenial colours in iheir natural order; viz* violet^ indigo , Meteors. 115 green, yellow and red. It always appears in that part of the heavens oppo- site the sun. The Halos, are circles somewhat akin to the rainbow, which appear about the sun and moon,and are sometimes various- ly coloured. They never appear in a rainy sky, but in a rimy and frosty one* and are formed by the refraction of the rays of light, without any reflection as in the rainbow* Mo.ck-suns and mock-moons are repre- sentations of the face of the true sun an.d. moon by reflection in the clouds. The weight and pressure of the atmos- pherical air have been explained in the preceding chapter. We shall now exam- ine the particulars relative to its progres- sive motion, which we denominate wind* Wind is a stream or current of air ; as the air is a fluid, its natural state is that of rest, which it endeavours always to keep or retrieve by an universal equilibri- um of all its parts. When, therefore, this natural equilibrium of the atmosphere happens by any means to be destroyed in any part, there necessarily follows a mo- 116. Meteors* tion of all the circumjacent air towards that part to restore it ; and this motion of the air is what we call whid. Hence, with respect to that place where the equilibrium of the air is disturbed, we see the wind may blow from every point of the compass at the same time; and those who live northwards of that point have a north wind ; those who live southwards, a south wind ; and so of the rest : But those who live on the spot, where all these winds meet and interfere, are oppressed with turbulent and boisterous weather, whirlwinds and hurricanes ; with rain, tempest, lightning, thunder, &c. Many are the particular causes which produce winH by interrupting the equi- poise of the atmosphere ; but the most general causes are two, viz. heat, which, by rarefying the air, makes it lighter in some places than it is in others ; and cold which, by condensing it, makes it heavier. Hence it is, that in all parts over the tor- rid zone, the air being more rarefied by 3 greater quantity of the solar rays, is much lighter than in the other parts of the atmosphere, and most of all over the equatorial parts of the earth. And since Meteors. 117 trie parts at the equator are most rarefied which are near the sun ; and those parts are, by the earth's diurnal rotation east- ward, continually shifting to the west ; it follows, that the parts of the air which lie on the west side of the point of greatest rarefaction, and, by flowing towards it, meet it, have less motion than those parts on the east of the said point, which follow it ; and therefore the motion of the east- ern air would prevail against that of the western air, and so generate a continual east wind, if this were all the effect of that rarefaction. But we are to consider that as all the parts of the atmosphere are so greatly rarefied over the equator, and all about the poles greatly condensed by ex- treme cold, this heavier air from either pole is constantly flowing towards the equator, to restore the balance destroyed by the rarefaction and levity of the air ov- er those regions ; hence, in this respect alone, a constant north and south wind would be generated. Now it is easy to understand, that by a composition of these two directions of the air from the east and north, a constant north-east wind will be generated in the K2 118 Meteors. northern he mi sphere, and a constant south- east wind in the southern hemisphere, to a certain distance on each side the equa- tor, all round the earth. And this case we find to be verified in the general trade -winds) which constantly blow from the north-east and south-east, to about thirty degrees on each side the equator, where those parts are over the open ocean, and not affected with the reflection of the sun- beams from the heated surface of the land, for in this case the wind will always set in upon the land, as on the coast of Guin- ea, and other parts of the torrid zone, we know it does. The temperature of a country with res- pect to heat or cold, is increased or dim- inished by winds, according as they come from a hotter or colder part of the world. The north and north-easterly winds, in this country and all the western parts of Europe, are reckoned cold and drying winds. They are cold because they come from the frozen region of the north pole, or over a great tract of cold land. Their drying quality is derived from their co- ming principally over land,"* and from a * This is not true with regard to the United States ; for here the north-east wind, coming over the ocean, instead of land, brirtjjs along with it so great a degree of humidity as always Meteors. 119 well known property of the air, namely, that warm air can dissolve, and keep dis- solved, a greater quantity of water than colder air : hence the air which comes from colder regions being heated over warmer countries, becomes a better sol- vent of moisture, and dries up with great energy the moist bodies it comes in con- tact with ; and, on the other hand, warm air coining into a colder region deposits a quantity of the water it kept in solution and occasions mists, fogs,clouds,rains,&:c. In warm countries sometimes the winds which blow over a great tract of highly heated land, become so very drying, scorching and suffocating, as to produce dreadful effects. These winds under the name ofsolanos, are often felt in the des- erts of Arabia, in the neighbourhood of the Persian gulph, in the interior of Af- rica, and in some other places. There are likewise in India, part of China, part of Africa, and else where, other winds, which deposit so much warm moisture as to sof- ten, and actually to dissolve glue, salts, and almost every article which is soluble in water. to produce rain or snow, according to the temperature of the air ; whereas, as here stated, in Europe the same wind bio wine; over land, it always produces dry, fair weather. 120 Meteors. It is impossible to give any adequate account of irregular winds, especially of those sudden and violent gusts which come on at very irregular periods, and generally continue for a short time. They some- times spread over an extensive tract of country, and at other times are confined within a remarkably narrow space. Their causes are by no means rightly understood though they have been vaguely attributed to peculiar rarefactions, to the combined attractions of the sun and moon, to earth- quakes, to electricity, ^c. They are called in general hurricanes, or they are the principal phenomenon of a hurricane, that is, of a violent storm. Almost every one of those violent winds is attended with particular pheno- mena, such as droughts or heavy rains, or hail, or snow, or thunder and lightning, or several of those phenomena at once. They frequently shift suddenly from one quarter of the horizon to another, and then come again to the former point. In this case they are called tornadoes. Iu some parts of the Indian ocean there are winds which blow one way du- ring one half of the year, and then blow the contrary way during the other half Aleteor*. 121 of the year. These winds are called monsoons, and owe their origin to causes similar to what has been pointed out. When the gusts of wind come from different quarters at the same time, and meet in a certain place, there the air ac- quires a circular, or rotatory, or screw- like motion, either ascending or descend- ing, as it were, round an axis, and this axis sometimes is stationary, and at other times moves on, in a particular direction. This phenomenon, which is called a whirlwind, gives a whirling motion to dust, sand, water, part of a cloud, and sometimes even to bodies of great weight and bulk ; carrying them either upwards or downwards, and lastly scatters them about in different directions. The water-spout has been attributed principally, if not entirely, to the meeting of different winds. In that case the air in its rotation acquires a centrifugal mo- tion ; whence it endeavours to recede from the axis of the whirl, in conse- quence of which a vacuum, or, at least a considerable rarefaction of air, takes place about the axis, and, when the whirl takes place at sea, or upon water, the water ri- 122 Meteors. ses into that rarefied place ; for the same reason which causes it to ascend in- to the exhausted tube, and forms the water-spout or pillar of water in the air. The water-spouts generally break about their middle, and the falling waters oc- casion great damage, either to ships that have the misfortune of being under them, or to the adjoining land ; for such spouts are sometimes formed on a lake, or river, or on the sea close to the land. As the motion of the air has a greater or lesser velocity, the wind is stronger or weaker ; and it is found from observation, that the velocity of the wind is various, from the rate of 1 to 1OO miles per hour. The following particulars respecting the velocity, &?<:. of the wind are extracted from a table which appeared in the 51st volume of the Philosophical Transactions, by Mr. J. Smeaton, the celebrated engi- neer. When the velocity of the wind is one mile per hour it is hardly perceptible. From 2 to 3 just perceptible. 4 5 gentle pleasant wind, or breezes, 10 15 pleasant brisk gale. 20 25 very brisk. 30 35 high winds. Meteors* 120 40 45 very high. 50 miles per hour a storm or tempest, 60 a great storm. 80 a hurrscane. JQQ C a hurricane that tears up trees ' \ carries buildings before it, 8cc, The winds are of immense and indis- pensable use. Besides their more ob- vious effects in driving of ships, wind- mills, &Pc. they preserve, by mixing, the necessary purity of the air. The winds, likewise drive away vapours, clouds fogs, and mists from those parts in which they are copiously formed, to others which are in want of moisture ; and thus the whole surface of the earth is supplied with water. It is the winds which diminish the heat, and augment the moisture of the torrid zone, and produce contrary effects on those of the polar re- gions, so as to render those districts of the globe, which the ancients deemed totally unfit for the abode of man, and other animals, by reason of excessive heat, not only habitable, but salutary and pleasing to man and beast, and yielding great variety and abundance of the choice productions of nature* 124 Springs ) Rivers , and the Seat, CHAP. VIII. Of Springs, RiverSy and the Sea. HAVING viewed water as it takes its departure from the bosom of the deep and forms the watery meteors, we shall now survey it as it rises in the salient spring, and gives birth to the gurgling rill, or uniting, gives coolness to the land- scape in the magnificent stream, that irl its ample range fertilizes its neighbour- hood. Various have been the theories, or rather hypotheses relating to the origin of springs ; but it seems the general o- pinion of those who have made this branch of natural philosophy their study, that the true principles which supply the waters of fountains or springs, are mel- ted snow, rain water, and condensed va*- pours. Springs, Rivers, and the Sea* i2 The prodigious quantity of vapours raised by the sun's heat, and otherwise, being carried by the winds over the low lands to the very ridges of mountains, as the Pyrenean, the Alps, the Apennine, the Carpathian, in Europe ; the Taurus the Caucasus, Imaus and others in Asia ; Atlas the Monies Lunce, or mountains of the moon, with other unknown ridges in Africa ; the vapours being compelled by the stream of air to mount up with it to the top of those mountains, where the air becoming too light to sustain them, and condensed by cold they strike against their summits^ which causes an union of their particles, and are precipitated in water, which gleets down by the crannies of the stone ; and entering into the ca- verns of the hills, gathers, as in an alem~ lie, into the basons of stone it finds, which being once filled, all the overplus of water that comes thither, runs over by the lowest places, and breaking out by the sides of the hills forms single spmgs. Many of these springs running down by the vallies, between the ridges of the hills, and coming to unite, form little rivulets, or brooks ; many of these agaia JL 1 26 Springs, Rivers, and the Sea. meeting in one common valley, and gam- ing the plain ground, being grown less rapid, become a river; and many of these being united in one common chan- nel, make such enormous streams as the Rhine, the Rhone and the Danube. And it may almost pass for a rule, that the magnitude of a river, or the quantity of water it discharges, is proportional to the length and heights of these very ridges from whence the fountains arise. The several sorts of springs observed are common springs, which either run continually, and then they are called perennial springs ; or else run only for a time, or at certain times of the year, and then they are called temporary springs. Intermitting springs, or such as flow and then stop, and flow and stop again, by regular alternations or intermissions, Reciprocating springs, whose w r aters rise and fall, or flow and ebb, by regular in- tervals, or reciprocations of the surface. If those reservoirs of water in the bo- dy of mountains be situated where min- eral ores abound, or the ducts or feeding streams run through mineral earth, it is easy to conceive the particles of metal Springs, Rivers-^ and the Sea. 127 will mix with, and be absorbed by the water, which being saturated therewith, becomes a mineral spring or well. If salt, sulphur, and lime-stone abound in the strata through which the water pas- ses, it will then be saline, sulphureous, and lime-water. If sulphur and iron should both 4 abound in the parts of the hill, whence the waters come, the waters will partake of the warmth or heat, which is. occasioned by the mixture of two such substances in the earth, where they are found. Having noticed the different kinds of springs, we shall say a few words respec- ting the various phenomena which take place in rivers. A large collection of water which runs in consequence of its gravity from at higher to a lower pare of the surface of the earth, in a channel generally open at top, is called a river. A river which flows uniformly, and preserves the same height in the sa-ne place, is said to be in a permanent state ; such rivers are very rare. The water of a river does not flow with the same velocity through the 128 Springs, Rivers, and the Sea. whole width of the river. The line in which the water moves with the greatest velocity is called the thread of the river, and this thread seldom lies in the middle of the river, but it generally comes near- er to one side than the other, according to the nature of the impediments, and the configuration of the banks. The ve- locity of rivers is likewise less at the bottom of their channels, than at their surface ; owing to the resistance which the bed makes to the water as it flows. The running of rivers is upon the same principle as the descent of bodies on in- clined planes ; for water no more than a solid can move on a horizontal plane, the re-action of such a plane being equal and contrary to gravity entirely destroys it, and leaves the body at rest; here we speak of a plane of small extent, and such as co- incides with the curved surface of the earth. But if we consider a large extent or long course of water, then we shall find that such water can never be at rest but when the bottom of the channel coincides every where with the curved surface of the earth. In rivers that are made it is usual to allow the fall of 1 foot in 300, but Springs, Rivers, and the Sea. 129 the declivity of those formed by nature is \ r arious and uncertain. The velocity of the water of a river Ottght to increase in proportion as it re- cedes from its source : but the numerous causes of retardation, which occur in riv- ers, are productive of very great irregu- larities ; and it is impossible to form any general rules for determining such irregularities. The unequal quantities of water (ari- sing from rains, from the melting of snow &c.) which are conveyed by rivers at dif- ferent seasons, enlarge or contract their widths, render them more or less rapid, and change more or less the form of their beds. But independent of this, the size and form of a river is liable to be continu- ally altered by the usual flowing of its waters, and by local peculiarities. The water constantly corrodes its bed where- ver it runs with considerable velocity, and rubs off the sand, or other not very coherent parts. The corrosion is most remarkable in that part of the bottom, which is under the thread 'of the river, or where the water descends suddenly from an eminence, as in a cascade or water -fall* L2 1 3O Springs , Rivers, and the Sea. The sand thus raised is deposited in pla- ces where the water slacks its velocity, and there by degrees an obstacle, a bank, and even an island, is formed, which in its turn produces other changes. Thus a river sometimes forms itself a new bed, or it oversows the adjacent grounds. k In some places we find that an obstacle or a bent on one side will occasion a cor- rosion on the opposite bank, by directing the impetus of the stream towards that bank. Thus, from divers causes, whose concurrence in different proportions, and at different times, forms an infinite varie- ty, the velocity of rivers is never steady or uniform. The following curious calculation res- pecting the river Thames was made by Dr Halley. " In order to estimate the quanti- ty of water, which passes daily through the Thames, the Doctor assumes the breadth of the river at Kingston bridge, (where the flood seldom reaches) to be 100 yards, and the depth 3 ; so that the section of the channel is 300 square yards, and allowing the velocity of the \vater to be at the rate of 2 miles per hour, there will run in 24 hours, the length of 48 miles Springs, Rivers, and the Sea. 131 or 84480 yards ; therefore 84480 x SOOzz 25,344,000 cubic yards, which make 203,- 000,000 tons which the river Thames yields per diem. The proportional lengths of course of some of the most noted rivers in the world are shewn nearly by the following num- bers, extracted from Mr. RennelPs paper 71st vol. Phil. Trans. European Rivers. Thames 1 Rhine 5~ Danube 7 Wolga 9| Asiatic Rivers. Indus 5^ Euphrates . . 8-| Ganges 9-| Burrampooter 9-| Nou Kian, or Ava River . . 9-| Jennisea 1O 1 Oby 10! Amoor 11 Lena 11-J Hoanho (of China) .... 13A Kian Keu (of ditto) . . , 15| 132 Springs, Rivers, and the Sea. African River. Nile American Rivers. Mississippi ........ 8 Amazons ......... 15| When we reflect on the immense length of these rivers, and their origin, we are naturally directed to the contemplation of the round which water travels ; and by which, without suffering adulteration or waste, it is continually offering itself to the wants of the habitable globe. From the sea are exhaled those vapours which form the clouds ; these clouds descend in refreshing showers of rain, which sinking deep into the earth, form springs, and springs uniting form rivers, which rivers in return feed the ocean. So there is an incessant circulation of the same fluid; and not one drop probably more or less now than there was at the creation. In fact, " look nature through, 'tis revolution all'* wherever we turn our eyes, all seems continually in a state of change or circu- lation. a The sun," saith Solomon, " ari- seth, and the sun goeth down, and pants Springs, River s^ and the Sea. for the place from whence he arose ; all rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full ; unto the place from whence the ri- vers came, thither they return again." The Sea is a vast collection of waters in the deep and unfathomable valleys of the earth. This great abyss occupies nearly three quarters of the whole surface of our globe ; which has been thought by some too great a proportion ; but it is probably no more than sufficient to fertilize the land. The saltness of the sea is a property in that element, which appears to have exci- ted the curiosity of naturalists in all ages. This property is very rationally judged to arise from great multitudes both of mines and mountains of salt, dispersed here and there in the depths of the sea ; the salt being continually diluted and dis- solved by the waters, the sea becomes im- pregnated with its particles throughout ; and for this reason the saltness of the sea can never be diminished. The saltness of the sea preserves its waters pure and sweet, which otherwise would corrupt and stink like a filthy lake, and consequently none of the myriads of 1 34 Springs, River s^ and the Sea. creatures which now live therein, could then have being ; from hence also the sea water becomes much heavier ; and there- fore ships of greater size and quantity may be used thereon. Salt water also doth not freeze so soon as fresh water, whence the seas are more free for navi- gation. The most re mark able thing in the sea, is that motion of the water called tides. It is a rising and falling of the water of the sea. The cause of this is the attraction of the moon, whereby the part of the water in the great ocean which is nearest the moon being most strongly attracted, is raised higher than the rest ; and the part opposite to it, on the contrary side, being least attracted, is also higher than the rest. And these two opposite rises of the sur- face of the water in the great ocean, fol- lowing the motion of the moon from east to west, and striking against the large coasts of the continents that lie in their way, from thence rebound back again, and so make floods and ebbs in narrow seas, and rivers remote from the great ocean. As the earth, by its daily rotation round its axis, goes from the moon to the moon Springs, Rivers, and the Sea. 135 again (or the moon appears to move round the earth from a given meridian to the same again) in about 24 hours, hence in that period there are two tides of flood and two of ebb, and this alternate ebbing and flowing continues without intermis- sion. For instance, if the tide be now at high -water-mark, in any port, or harbour, ivhich lies open to the ocean, it will pres- ently subside, and flow regularly back, for about six hours, when it will be found at low-water-mark. After this, it will again gradually advance for six hours, and then return back, in the same time, to its for- mer situation; rising and falling alternate- ly, twice a day, or in the space of about twenty- four hours. The interval between its flux and reflux is, however, not precisely six hours, but about eleven minutes more ; so that the time of high water does not always happen at the same hour, but is about three quar- ters of an hour later every day, for thirty days ; when it again recurs as before. For example, if it be high water, at any place, to day at noon, it will be low water at ele- ven minutes after six in the evening ; and consequently, after two changes more, the 136 Springs, Rivers, and the Sea. time of high water the next day will be about three quarters of an hour after noon; the day following it will be at about half an hour after one ; the day after that at a quarter past two; and so on for thirty days when it will again be found to be high wa- ter at noon, the same as on the day the observation was first made. And this ex- actly answers to the motion of the moon ; she rises every day about three quarters of an hour later than upon the preceding one; and, by moving in this manner round the earth, completes her revolution in a- bout thirty days, and then begins to rise again at the same time as before. To make the matter still plainer ; sup- pose, at a certain place, it is high water at three o'clock in the afternoon, upon the day of the new moon ; the following day it will be high water at about three quar- ters of an hour after three ; the day after that at about half an hour past four ; and so on, till the next new moon ; when it will again be high water about three o'- clock, the same as before. And by obser- ving the tides continually at the same place, they will always be found to follow the same rule ; the time of high water, Spri ngs, Rivers, and the Sea. 137 Upon the day of every new moon, being nearly at the same hour ; and three quar- ters of an hour later every succeeding day* The attraction of the sun also produ- ces a similar rising and falling of the wa- ter of the ocean, but on account of its dis- tance, not near so considerable as that which is produced by the moon* It will be readily understood that according to the different situations of the sun and the moon, the tides which are raised by their respective attraction, will either con- spire with, or counteract each other in a greater or lesser degree. When they con- spire together the tides rise higher, and their mutual action produces what are cal- led spring 1 tides* On the contrary, when they counteract each other they produce ntap tides. \ From a slight consideration of what has been said, we might be led to imagine that the time of high water at any place, would be when the moon is over the me* ridian of that place. But this is by no means the case ; it being usually about three hours afterwards : the reason of which may be shown as follows. The moon 3 when she 15 on the meridian, or M Springs^ Rivers*) and the Sect. nearest to the zenith of any place, tends to raise the waters at that place ; but this force must evidently be exerted for a con- siderable time, before the greatest eleva- tion will take place ; for if the moon's at- traction were to cease altogether, when she has passed the meridian, yet the mo- tion already communicated to the waters would make them continue to ascend for some time afterwards,* and therefore, they must be much more disposed to ascend when the attractive force is only in a small measure diminished. The waves of the sea, which continue after a storm has ceased, and almost eve- ry other motion of a fluid, will illustrate this idea ; all such effects being easily ex- plained, from the consideration that a small impulse, given to a body in motion,, will make it move farther than it would otherwise have done. It is also, upon the same principle, that the heat is not the greatest upon the longest day, but some time afterwards ; and that it is not so hot at twelve o'clock, as at two or three in the afternoon ; because there is a farther in- crease made to the heat already imparted. Instead of its being high water then, when Springs, Rivers^ and the Sea. 139 the moon is upon the meridian of any place, it will always be found to happen, as far as circumstances will allow, about three hours afterwards ; and the intervals between the flux and reflux, must be reck- oned from that time in the same manner as before. The sun being nearer the earth in win- ter than in summer, is nearer to it in Feb- ruary and October than in March and September ; and therefore the greatest tides happen not till some time after the autumnal equinox, and return a little be- fore the vernal. The tide propagated by the moon in the German ocean, when she is three hours past the meridian, takes twelve hours to come from thence to London Bridge ; where it arrives by the time that a new tide is raised in the ocean. These are the principal phenomena of the tides ; and where no local circumstan- ces interfere, the theory and facts will he found to agree. suit their respective spe cies ; and, ?ha superficial glance, the srem to have the same common parts chemical analysis discovers the same con- stiturnt principles in all, that is to say calcareous earth, oil, water, and air, wit" a portion of iron, to which they ovvethei beautiful colours. Yet, although compo- sed of similar materials, their juices to the eye, and to the taste, appear as vari- ous as their forms. The soporific milk oi the poppv , the acrid but equally milky juice of the spungc, the acid of the sorrel, the saccharine sap of the sycamore and mapie, and the resin of the tribe of pines-, bear no resemblance to each other. The inward structure of plants is as i Plants. 187 regular and various as their external forms are elegant and well-proportioned. The root, trunk, branch, leaf, flower, fruit and seed, have each its peculiar character and form. No part in the con- texture of the smallest fibre is unfinish- ed but is formed with the most minute exactness. The seeds of plants have the appearance of shells, unlike in form, and diversified with spots and stripes. Eve- ry seed possesses a reservoir of nutri- ment, designed for the growth of the future plant. This is the matter prepar- ed by nature for the reproduction and continuation of the whole species. This nutriment consists of starch, mucilage, or oil, within the coat of the seed, or of sugar and subacid pulp in the fruit, which belongs to it. The sections of the vaii- ous kinds of trees are crossed with the greatest number of regular figures which the imagination can conceive. The lines, which form the texture of fir-trees, are distant ; but those of oak are close and compact. And this difference of texture may serve to account for their greater or less solidity, and the difference of time requisite for them to arrive at maturitv. 188 Plants. The nourishment of plants is perform ed chiefly by the tender fibres of the roots, which being spread under-ground, im- bibe from the moist earth juice fit for their nutriment, which they transmit to the other parts. The impulse by which the juices rise seems to be capillary at- traction ; for the roots of all vegetables are supposed but bundles of capillary tubes : and whether we consider earth, water, salt and oil, as the food of plants - or, with Kirwan, that coal is essential to that food or with Ingenhouz, that it is vital air decomposepl into fixt air and azote ; still that food must be formed by water into an emulsion, capable of being- acted upon by capillary attraction ; and as all roots are but assemblages of these tubes, there can be little doubt but their attraction supplies the plant with its first food ; though other causes must assist in carrying it to the tops of the tallest trees, such as dilatation and contraction, by the successive heat and cold of day and night, the muscular action of vascu- lar rings round the tubes irritated to con- traction by the stimulant sap, &c. The anterior bark conducts the nourishment supplied by the earth. , Plants. 180 After the sap has thus ascended to the eaves, it there undergoes certain altera- tions, and is converted into another fluid, called the succus proprhis, or peculiar juice ; which, like the blood in animals^ is afterwards employed in forming the- various substances found in plants. The leaves may therefore be considered as the digesting organs of plants, and as equivalent in some measure to the sto- mach and lungs of animals. The leaves consequently are not mere ornaments ; they are the most important parts of the plant. Accordingly we find, that when- ever we strip a plant of its leaves, we strip it entirely of its vegetating powers till new leaves are formed ; for when the leaves of plants are destroyed by insects, they vegetate no longer, and their fruit never makes any further progress in ri- pening, but decays and dries up, Leaves on one side draw nutriment from the air, and perspire on the other ; for plants, as well as animals, perspire, and, in both cases, this function is essen- tial to health. The quantity they per- spire varies, according to the extent of the surface from which it is emitted, the temperature of the air, the time of the day, and the humidity of the atmosphere. Leaves form the greatest part of the sur- face, and it is found that the quantity of these very materially affect the quantity of perspiration ; and this process is increas- ed or diminished, chiefly, in proportion to the increase or diminution of the fo- liage of vegetables. The degree of heat in which the plant is kept also varies the quantity of matter perspired ; this being greater, in proportion to the greater heat of the surrounding atmosphere. The degree of light has likewise considerable influence in this respect ; for plants uni- formly perspire most in the forenoon, though the temperature of the air, in which they are placed, should be unvari- ed. A plant also exposed to the rays of the sun, has its perspiration increased to a much greater degree than if it had been exposed to the same heat under the shade. Finally, the perspiration of veg- etables is increased in proportion as the atmosphere is dry, or, in other words, diminished in proportion as the atmos- phere is humid. The more vigorous and healthy the plant, the more copious the perspiration j this function, like the Plants. 191 est, depending much on the vital ener- rgy. Excessive perspiration seems to hurt, and even sometimes to destroy, veg- etables ; defective perspiration is equal- ly injurious. It is also found, that this function is performed, chiefly, if not al- together, by the leaves and young shoots* That it may be properly carried on, all leaves are deciduous ; in those trees cal- led ever-greens, there being a constant succession of leaves, to prevent the or- gan of perspiration from becoming rigid* A quantity of moisture is absorbed by plants, when exposed to a humid atmos- phere. This absorption, as well as the perspiration, is performed by the leaves $ but in what manner has not yet been as- certained. Experiments made by M, Guettard shew, that perspiration is more considerable from the upper, than from the under, surface of the leaves. Plants in general are known to receive and transpire more, in equal time, than large animals. It has been found by ac- curate calculation, and repeated experi- ments, that a plant of the sun-flower re- ceives and perspires in twenty-four hours seventeen times more than a man, 192 Plants. Some botanists have conceived that plants, as well as animals, have a regular circulation of their fluids. Others thinfc this very improbable. On both sides, recourse has been had to experiments, and from these conclusions perfectly op- posite have been deduced ; so that no certain conclusion can be drawn on this head. Light has great effect on vegetation. Plants that grow in the shade, or in dark- ness, are pale, and without colour ; and the more they are exposed to the light, the more colour they acquire. Vegetables are not only indebted to light for their colour ; their taste and odour are derived from the same source. Hence it happens that hot climates are the native countries of perfumes, odori- ferous fruits, and aromatic resins. The action of light on the organs of plants, causes them to pour out streams of pure air from the surfaces of their leaves, while exposed to the sun ; where- as, on the contrary, when in the shade, and at night, they emit air of a noxious, quality. The various secretions of vegetables^ Plants. 193 as of odour, fruit, gum, resin, wax, hon- ey, &c. seem brought about in the same manner as in the glands of animals ; the tasteless moisture of the earth is convert- ed by the hop-plant into a bitter juice ; as by the caterpillar in the nutshell the sweet kernel is converted into a bitter powder. While the power of absorption in the roots and barks o vegetables is excited into action by the fluids applied to their mouths like the lacteals and lym- phatics of animals. The individuals of the vegetable world may be considered as inferior or less perfect animals ; a tree is a congeries of many living buds, and in this respect re- sembles the branches of coralline, which are a congeries of a multitude of ani- mals. Each of these buds of a tree has its proper leaves or petals for lungs, pro- duces its viviparous or its oviparous off- spring in buds or seeds ; has its own roots, which extending down the stem of the tree are interwoven with the roots of the other buds, and form the bark, which is the only living part of the stem, is an- nually renewed, and is superinduced up- on the former bark, which then dies, and 194 Plants. with its stagnated juices gradually hard- ening into wood forms the concentric circles, which we see in blocks of timber, which annual rings serve as natural marks to distinguish the age of trees. The botanist follows nature into her most retired abodes, and views htr in her simple state, and native m^-stv. He remarks some of her productions figured by cultivation in gardens, wh amid all the varieties of thr apple and the pear ? however distinguished by th^ir colour, size and taste, he observes, that there is but one original species c;f each, and that they have respectively but one radical character. He beholds the won- derful prodigality of nature, even in the composition of the common daisy, which consists of more than two hundred flow- ers, each including its respective corolla, germ, pistil, stamina, and seed, as per- fectly formed as those of a complete lily, or hyacinth. And he sees this diversity as fully illustrated in the different sorts of grass, a term which, although it com- monly conveys only one notion to tfae Vul- gar mind, and one object to the undis- ce^rning eye, consists of five hundred dif- Plants. 195 ferent species, each formed with infinite beauty and variety. From others he par- ticularly distinguishes the elegant brizct media, so common in the fields, and so remarkable for its delicate hair-like stem, trembling at every breeze ; the anthoxan- ihum odoratum, which gives its fragrance to the new-mown hay ; and the stipa pennata with its waving plumes resem- bling the feathers of the bird of paradise* The botanist enjoys a pleasing and inno- cent amusement, most agreeably com- bined with a love of rural retirement, and which gives a new and growing inter- est to every w r alk and ride, in the most delightful season of the year. Indeed man cannot contemplate the vegetable creation without recalling the idea of beauty, sweetness, and a thousand charms that captivate the senses. The perfume of the rose and the stately magnificence of the forest successively catch his atten- tion and delight him* The number of species of plants alrea- dy known is about twenty-five thousand ; and botanists suppose that double that number, at least, remain to be discoveredo The different vegetable productions are 196 Plants no less useful than numerous. The pur- poses to which the trees of Britain are ap- plied are well known, from the flexible willow, which forms the basket, to the hardy oak, which composes the most sub- stantial parts of a ship of war, guards the British islands from foreign invasion, and displays to the most remote countries the greatness of our maritime power. All possess different qualities, adapted to their different purposes. The meanest, and in their appearance the most unplea- sant, have their use ; even the thistle is not only the food of some animals, but is serviceable in making glass. There is scarcely a plant which although rejected as food by some animals is not eagerly sought by others. The horse yields the common water hemlock to the goat, and the cow the long-leafed water hemlock to the sheep. The goat again leaves the aconite, or bane-berries to the horse* The euphorbia or spurge, so noxious to man, is greedily devoured by some of the insect tribes. The aloe is a magazine of provisions and of implements to the In- dians who inhabit the banks of the Ohio and the Missisippi. Some plants, a* Plants. 19? rhubarb and opium, alleviate the tortures of pain ; and some, as the quinquina, or Peruvian bark, can subdue the rage ot the burning fever. Wheat, the delicious and prolific grain which gives to the inhabi- tants of the northern world their whole- some nutriment, grows in almost every climate, Where excessive heat or other causes prevent it from cojning to perfec- tion, its place is amply supplied by the bread-fruit, the cassavi-root and maize, and more particularly by rice, which is the common aliment of that great portion of mankind who inhabit the warm regions of the earth. Every meadow in the ver- nal season brings forth various kinds oi grass ; and this spontaneous and most abundant of all vegetable productions re- quires only the labour of the husbandman to collect its harvest. The iron-wood^ solid as marble, furnishes the Otaheitean with his long spear and massy club. The wild pine of Campeachy retains the rain- water in its deep and capacious leaves not less for the refreshment of the tree itself, than of the thirsty native of a burning soil. The cocoa of the East and West Indies anwers many of the most usetul R 198 Plants. purposes of life to the natives of a warm climate. Its bark is manufactured into cordage and clothing, and its shell into useful vessels ; its kernel affords a pleas- ant and nutritive food, and its milk a cool- ing beverage ; its leaves are used for cov- ering houses, and are worked into bas- kets ; and its boughs are of service to make props and rafters. The rein-deer of the Laplander, so essential to his sup- port and subsistence, could not survive through the tedious winter, without the lichen rangiferinus, which he digs from beneath the snow. On the bleak moun- tains of the north, the pine, the fir, the ce- dar, and man of the resinous trees grow, which shelter many from the snows by the closeness of their foliage, and furnish him in winter with torches and fuel for his fire-side. The leaves of those evergreen trees are filliform, and thus are adapted to reverberating the heat, and resisting the violent winds which beat on elevated situ- ations* All these productions, and the various trees which produce cork and emit rosin, turpentine, pitch, gums, and balsam, either supply some constant ne- cessity, obviate some inconvenience? or Plants. 199 contribute to some use or gratification of the natives of the soils where they grow,,, or of the inhabitants of distant climate^ 200 Animals. CHAP. XL Of Animals. WE are now come to consider the last, the noblest and the most beautiful part of the creation : the creatures for whom this earth seems to have been entirely form- ed, and for whose repast or use the whole of its unintelligent productions appear to have been brought forth ; these are the animated tenants of our globe. When we compare animals and vegeta- bles together, each in their most perfect state, nothing can be easier than to dis- tinguish them. The plant is confined to a particular spot, and exhibits no marks of consciousness or intelligence ; the ani- mal, on the contrary, can remove at plea- sure from one place to another, is posses- sed of consciousness, and a high degree of intelligence. But on approaching the eont \7pcrf Animals. 201 contiguous extremities of the animal and vegetable kingdom, these striking differ- ences gradually disappear, the objects ac- quire a greater degree of resemblance, and at last approach each other so near- ly, that it is scarcely possible to decide whether some of those species which are situated on the very boundary, belong to the animal or vegetable kingdom. In- deed we find the vegetable, animal, and mineral kingdoms so closely connected, like the links of a chain, that there is no possibility of finding a disjunction in any part, nor saying with precision where the one ends and the other begins, so nearly do they approach each other in the ex- tremes of each class* The term animal, in a general sense, is applied to every thing that is supposed to be alive to the sensations of pain and pleasure. Under the name of animal, therefore, are included men, quadrupeds, ibirds, fishes, reptiles, and insects. Ani- xnal literally means a living- thing- ; but plants live. Linnaeus has formed a cli- max of the grand departments of crea- tion. Stones grow ; vegetables grow and. live ; animals grow, live* and feel. R2 202 Animate* Various are the corporeal forms, and great are the peculiarities of organization of the different animals which inhabit the globe ; and equally various are their in- tellectual powers; beginning with man, who forms the highest link in the chain, and descending by an almost impercepti- ble diminution of mental powers, through an innumerable series of existences, and ending at last in mere animation alone, with a seeiuing privation of all mental perception whatever. As an animal, man is strikingly dis- tinguishable from the rest of the crea- tures of the earth, on account of the in- genuity with which he eir ploys the pro- ductions of nature for his accommoda- tion and comfort. He is also particular- ly distinguishable by the originality of his ideas. Instincts, in common with brutes, make up a part of his character; but he is principally the creature of ex- perience ancl reflection. When an infant comes into the world it is the most help- less of all creatures ; no danger alarms it, nor can it make the smallest effort to preserve itself. A tiger may approach it without occasioning terror ; nor would Animals. 203 it, attempt to screen itself when the lion's mouth is opened to devour it. The voice of the mother is not understood for ma- ny weeks ; and it is but by slow degrees that it acquires knowledge,in consequence of the gradual developement of its rea- soning faculties ; but as its progress is more slow, so its ultimate attainments are proportionally greater than that of other animals. The chicken, within the first eight clays of its life, seems to have made nearly the whole mental acquire- ments it is ever capable of attaining; but no period of human life can be assigned when the mental progress of man is at a stand. Man alone is able to form an idea of an abstract proposition or to reason about distant occurrences. He alone can reason from consequences to remote causes, and can from the creature trace an idea of the Creator. A sense of reli- gion, then,is the characteristic peculiarity which decisively marks a separation be- tween man and all other animals. But as the understanding of man and the structure of his frame will occupy the following chapters, we will in this con- fine ourselves to a view of the other parts o f a n i t\i at e d n at ur e Animals. Animals, like vegetables, differ in their sizes and powers, with respect to the places of their growth. Those produc- ed in a dry sunny soil, are strong and vi- gorous, though not luxuriant : those again produced in a warm and moist climate are luxuriant and tender, and much lar- ger than those produced in other coun- tries ; as in the internal parts of South America and Africa, particularly in the former place, where the earth worm is near a )*ard long, and an inch thick ; the Serpents sometimes forty feet in length ; the Bats as large as Rabbits ; Toads big- ger than Ducks ; :md the Spider equal in size to the English Sparrow. But in the frozen regions of the north, animals are scarce ; and what few there are, except the .Bear, are not above half the size of those in the temperate zone. Animals are also found to vary consid- erably according to their food or climate ; and there are but few of the animal kingdom, (and these are they that are the most useful) which are found capa- ble of attending man in his peregrina- tions' over the globe. In uncultivated nature, the animal kingdom exceeds the Animate. 205 vegetable ; -but, in a state of improve- ment, tbe interest of man so directs it, that the vegetable kingdom should gain the ascendancy ; for on a review of the animal and vegetable world, we find but few animals, which are intrinsically ser- viceable to man ; while on the other hand, numbers of them are noxious to his food, and inveterate enemies to his interest. But among the vegetable world, very few are noxious ; and the greater part of them yield either food, medicine, or some other valuable article. Therefore, it al- ways has, and will remain to be, the in- terest of man, to diminish the number of animals, and increase that of vegetables ; and in assistance to his endeavours, pro- vidence has wisely ordered it, that one animal shall subsist on another ; for were they to live entirely on vegetables, myri- ads would soon become extinct, for want of support. The number of animals, which are im- mediately serviceable to man, (exclusive of the smaller, among the birds and fish- es, which serve for food) does not extend to one hundred ; while, we are acquaint- ed with no less than twenty thousand ; 2O6 Animak. and even this great number, compre- hends but a small portion of animated na- ture. Not only the earth, air, and sea, teem with myriads of living creatures, but almost every vegetable, and each sin- gle leaf, is covered with an endless num- ber of inhabitants, whose various forms and properties have afforded matter of astonishment to the microscopic obser* ver. Animals are nourished by food, taken in at the mouth, digested in the stomach, and thence, by fit vessels, distributed over the whole body ; but of the process by which the various vegetable produc- tions, which form the food of a large por- tion of animals, is converted into part of the animal, we are totally ignorant. That this change does take place we know, but in what manner we know not any more than the animals themselves do, whose natural organs perform, unknown to them, the functions that are necessary for producing these changes. The greatest part of animals have five senses, viz. seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling. These, and the way of nourishment of animals, we shall more Animals, 207 particularly consider, as they are com* mon to man with beasts, in the following chapter. Animals are generally divided into male and female, and some are both male and female, and are called hermaphro- dites, as the earth worm and some others* With regard to their mdnner of propa- gation, they are divided into oviparous? bringing forth eggs ; and viviparous^ bringing forth their young alive. Linnaeus divides animals, according to their internal structures. Some have the heart with two ventricles, and hot, red blood : viz. Quadrupeds and Birds ; others have the heart with one ventricle, and cold, red blood, viz. Amphibia and Fishes ; the former being furnished with lungs, and the Fishes with gills. Some have the heart with one ventricle^ and cold, white serum, viz. Insects and Worms ; the former being furnished with feelers, and the latter with holders* All quadrupeds, which have teats, are distinguished by their teeth. These form the following seven orders ; the Primates or Principals, which have four suiting teeth in each jaw ; the Brutse or 208 Animals. Brutes, which have no cutting teeth ; the Ferae or Wild Beasts, which have six cut- ting teeth in each jaw; the Glires, or Dormice, which have two cutting teeth both above and below ; the Pecora, or Cattle, which have no cutting teeth above, and six or eight below ; the Belluse. or Beasts, properly so called, which have the fore teeth blunt ; and the Cetse, or those of the Whale kind, which have cartilagi- nous teeth. This is the brief outline of this celebrated Naturalist's arrangement, the names of the different animals, and their respective classes, occupying no less than two large octavo volumes ; but the natural division of animated nature, is universally allowed to be the five follow- ing classes ; Quadrupeds, Birds, Fishes^ Insects, and Amphibious Animals ; tho' it must be confessed that this distribution is not exactly defined by nature ; as there are many animals whose form and quali- ties render it difficult to reduce them to any one of these classes. I. QvMdrupeds. Quadrupeds are a large and useful class of animals, whose gener- ic characters are these ; their bodies are covered with hair: they have four feet; Animals. 209 they are viviparous ; and the females suckle their young. Quadrupeds are the most important creatures to man, and deserve his atten- tion more than the inhabitants of either the air, or the water. They inhabit the same soil with man ; and among them are; found beings possessing a greater share of instinct than the inhabitants of either air or water ; they breathe through their lungs, like the human species ; like these they are viviparous ; they have also warm red blood circulating through their veins ; and, however mortifying the reflection to human pride, many of them, both in their internal and external form, bear a strong resemblance to man the interior struc- ture of some of the ape kind, so nearly resembles that of the human kind, that anatomists can scarcely discover where the peculiarity exists. Though the characters of Quadrupeds are so obvious, yet as all the parts of na- ture are united together, to form one grand whole ; there are several species, which seem to be of an equivocal na- ture, and which form the links, uniting different animals together ; as the Bat S 2TO Animals. and Porcupine, the former of which pos- sesses wings, and the latter quills, like Birds ; the Armadillo is covered with a hard shell, by which it seems to partake of the nature of Insects, or Snails ; and the Seal and the Morse, though evidently of the quadruped kind, are furnished with fins, and reside almost constantly in the water. Quadrupeds, like all other animals,, are wisely adapted by Providence to their respective situations and natures* Those which turn up the ground in pur- suit of their food, have sharp snouts ; others, which require a keener scent, as dogs, particularly those of the chase, have long noses,, whereby the olfactory nerves are more perfect : while others, of a ra~ pncious nature, have short thick noses, whereby their jaws have a greater mus- cular power, as those of the Lion ; and all granivorous animals have a strong tendinous ligament, extending from the head to the middle of the back, to ena- ble them to hold down their heads to the ground ; the fore teeth of these ani- mals are also edged, for the purpose of cutting their food ; but those of carni* Animals. %'il vorous animals are sharp, and serve rather as weapons o defence, In both,, however, the surfaces of the grinding teeth are unequal and jagged, locking in- to each other when the jaws are brought into contact. The stomach of carnivo- rous animals is also small and glandular ; and affords such juices as are best adap- ted to digest and macerate its contents ; but those animals which subsist on a vegetable diet, have four stomachs ; all which serve as so many laboratories, to prepare the food for the nourishment of the body ; and, in general, granivorous animals, whose food is easily procured, have large capacious stomachs, and ca- pable of great dilation ; whereas carni- vorous creatures have the stomach more contracted, and the intestines curtailed^ whereby they are enabled to subsist for a longer time without food. Strong large animals, which are neither tbrmed for pursuit rior flight, as the Elephant, Rhinoceros, Sea- Horse, &c. have thick massy legs, to support their unweildy bo- dies. While Deers, Hares, and other creatures, whose safety depends on flight, and who are beset by numberless ene- 212 Animals mies, have long, slender, hut muscular legs. Those formed for a life of rapa- city have their feet armed with sharp claws, which in some species are retrac- tile, as those of the Cat ; and, on the contrary, peaceful animals are generally furnished with hoofs, which often serve sis weapons of defence ; and the feet of those which subsist on fish, have mem- branes betwen the toes, the better to enable them to pursue their prey in the watery element. The larger species of Quadrupeds are, in general, the most harmless and inof- fensive ; and, as if sensible of their own innocence, they possess the most courage ; while the more rapacious animals are in- ferior to those in size, and also in cour- age ; and, except the Dog, there is no carnivorous quadruped, that will volun- tarily attack another animal, when the odds is against him. Thus nature has furnished the most inoffensive animals with superior size and strength ; and op- posed to them the carnivorous kinds, which possess more cunning and agility, whereby an equilibrium is preseved be- t v/een the numbers of the different kinds. Animals* The carnivorous animals are, in gen- eral, confined to their retreats during the day, and commit their depredations by night ; when the forest resounds with the tremendous roar of the Lion, the hide- ous yell of the Tiger ; the barking of the Jackal; the dismal cry of the Hyaena; and the hissing of the Serpent. Most of these kinds of animals take their prey by surprise from some ambush, where they lay in wait, more than by a regular- pursuit. There are some, however, which pursue in companies, mutually encoura- ging each other by their cries, as the Jack- al, Syagush, Wolf, and Dog. Carnivorous animals will sometimes devour the lesser rapacious species ; but they generally pre- fer the flesh of granivorous creatures, and commit their devastations among the peaceful domestic flocks and herds. The most defenceless creatures have different methods of providing for their safety* Some find protection in the holes they form in the earth ; others are enabled to escape their pursuers by flight ; others again unite for their mutual defence, and gain, by numbers, what they want indivi- dually in strength ; and, lastly, other? S2 Animals. avoid their enemies, by placing some ot their own company as centinels, to warn them of the first approach of danger ; a duty in which they are seldom negligent, and for the neglect of which they are in- variably punished by the rest. II. Birds. Birds, next to quadrupeds seem to demand our attention. The generic characters of this class of animals are these ; the body is covered with fea- thers, and furnished with two legs, two wings, and a hard horny bill ; and the fe- males are oviparous. Birds are infinitely more numerous in their different kinds than quadrupeds 9 but still less so than Fishes. They seem designed by providence for a solitary life; and though inferior to the brute creation in the powers of attack and defence, they possess a greater faculty of escape; and the greater part of them immediately elude their enemies of the quadruped and rep- tile nature, by an aerial escape ; for which all parts of their bodies seem admirably adapted ; the external form of the body being sharp before ; swelling gradually, and terminating in a 1 *ge spreading tail, which renders it buoyant, while the fore part cleaves the air- Animals. The clothing of these animals is exactly suited to their manner of life. The feath- ers all tend backwards, and neatly and closely fold over each other, which answer the triple purposes of warmth, speed and security. Those placed next the skin are furnished with a warm soft down ; while the exterior ones are arrayed with double beards, longer at one end than the other, and which consist of thin little laminae, disposed in regular lines, and perfectly even at their edges. The shaft of each feather is formed of a thin hollSw tube, which answers the purposes of strength and lightness ; the upper part being filled with a soft pith, to afford nourishment to the beards. They are so placed, that the largest and strongest, or those of the wings and tail, have the greatest share of duty to perform in flight. The upper external side of each single filament, in the beard of the feather, is furnished with hairs on its edges, which lock into those of the next filament, and thus form an en- tire, but light, smooth surface. Birds are also furnished with certain glands upon their rumps, which contain a quantity of oilj which they press out w ith their beaka*, Animals* and rub over their feathers; in order to smooth them, and enable them to turn off the water. Aquatic Birds, as the Duck, Goose, &c. have a greater quantity of this oil; but those who live principally under cover, and seldom expand their wings, have a less proportion of it ; as the com- mon Hen, whose feathers are impervious to every shower of rain. Birds possess a perfection of sight far superior to that of either man or brute, which is necessary for their safety and support? Were it less perfect, Birds of rapid flight would strike against every ob- ject in their way ; and be unable to disco- ver their proper food at a distance. The Kite darts on its prey, from the greatest heights to which it ascends; and the Hawk will discover a Lark, at a distance too great for human perception. Aquatic Birds have webbed feet, or membranes between their toes, to assist them in swimming; other Birds have their toes disjoined, the better to enable them to catch their prey, or cling to the branch- es of trees. Birds, with long legs, have also long necks, to enable them to pick up their food ; but some Aquatic Birds, as Animals-. 217 the Swan and Goose, have long necks and short legs. Birds are destitute of urinary bladders yet they have large kidneys and ureters, by which the secretion of urine is perfor- med, and then carried away with the oth- er excrements, in one common canal ; by which means they are less obnoxious to diseases than quadrupeds, who drink much and have a separate passage for the ejec- tion of the fluid excrement. The greater number of Birds pair at the approach of spring ; and the compact en- tered into is inviolably observed, for that season at least; but some species enter into this connection for years, and even for life. All Birds are oviparous, and the Hens of some species will lay eggs though they be not accompanied by the Male ; as the common domestic Hen ; but eggs of this kind are always sterile, never producing a live ani mal. Every bird builds its nest in such a manner, and with such materials, as best to answer its own purpose and sit- uation ; thus the Wren, which lays a great number of eggs, requires a very warm yies t ' 9 as her body is not sufficiently large ta 218 Animals. cover the whole of thrm ; but the Crow and Eagle are less solicitous in the warmth of their nest, as the small number of eggs they lay, and largeness and heat of their bodies, afford the eggs sufficient warmth. The same Bird also, when in a cold cli- mate, lines its nest with more care and warmer materials than in a warmer cli- mate. The male likewise of most birds, during the season of incubation, supplies th' j place of the female, in her absence from the eggs ; and supplies her with food during the time of her sitting. Those birds which are hatched early in the season, always prove more vigo- rous and strong, than such as have been delayed till the middle of summer. The number of eggs, which a bird will lay, is not exactly ascertained ; but it is well known, that a female Bird, which would have lain but two or three eggs at most, will, on her eggs being removed, lay above ten or a dozen. A common Hen, if pro- perly fed, will produce above a hundred eggs, from the beginning of spring to the end of Autumn. Nature has wisely or- dered it, that the smallest and weakest birds ; and in general, all those which are Animals,, 219 most serviceable to man, are the most prolific : while the strong and rapacious kinds are marked with sterility. Birds are in all countries, longer lived than the brute creation ; the Linnet will often live fourteen or fifteen years ; the Bullfinch tw.enty ; the Goose fourscore ; while Swans, Eagles, and some others, have been known to live two, or even three hundred years. The number of species of Birds, which mankind has rendered domestic, are but few, as the Peacock, Turkey, common Hen, Guinea-Hen, Pigeon, Swan, Goose, Duck, and Guinea-Duck, being only nine, while the number of all the species known exceed fifteen hundred. III. Amphibious animals are all those who are capable of living either on land or in the water. They are furnished with lungs and air bladders, adequate to this purpose. Such are the Frog, Castor^ Otter, Tortoise, Sea-Galf, Alligator, &c* Numbers of insects, particularly of the Fly kind, appear to be amphibious ; Gnats always drop their eggs in water, where the young are hatched, and live after the manner of fishes ; till at length they un~ 20 Animals. dergo a metamorphosis, take wing, quit their natural element, and become inhabit- ants of the air. IV. Fishes. Fishes are a class of crea- tures that appear, both in structure and sagacity quite inferior to other animals ; though capable of enduring famine an amazing length of time, they appear most voracious creatures ; a ceaseless desire for food seems the ruling impulse of their actions ; and their life one con- tinued scene of violence or evasion. Most fishes present the same external form ; sharp at both ends, and bulky in the middle ; which shape is most conve- nient for their passage through the wa- tery element. Mankind have imitated this form, in the construction of their marine vessels ; but the progress of such machines is far inferior to that of fishes ; any of which, will, with ease, outstrip a ship in full sail ; play around it, loiter behind, and overtake it. The instruments of motion in these animals are the fins ; of which the gener- al complement is two pair, and three sin* gle fins ; though some fish possess more, and many less than this number. The Animals. 221 pectoral fins, are placed at some distance behind the opening of the gills ; and are generally strong and large ; answering the same purpose, to a fish, as wings do to a bird in the air ; namely, pushing the body forward, like the oars to a boat. They also serve to balance the body of the fish, and prevent the head from sink- ing, which it would otherwise do. The ventral fins are placed under the belly, towards the lower part of the body ; these are always extended flat on the water, in all situations ; and serve to raise or depress the body of the animal, rather than assist his progression. The dorsal fin, is situated along the ridge of the back ; and serves to keep the fish in equilibrium, and also assists it in its velo- city. This fin is very large, in all the flat fish ; the pectoral fins of which are proportionally less. The anal fin, ex- tends from the anus to the tail, and serves to keep the body of the animal upright, or in a vertical direction. In some fish- es, as before observed, the tail is hori- zontal, and in others perpendicular. - Thus equipped, these animals have the xiiost rapid motions ; and perform voy- T 222 Animals. ^ges, of upwards a thousand leagues is one season. Fish are also furnished with a slimy glutinous matter, which overspreads the whole body, and defends them from the corosslve quality of the water. Beneath this matter, some have a strong covering of scaks, which, like a coat of armour, protects the body from injuries. Be- neath which, again, there is an oily sub- stance, which supplies the animal with the necessary warmth and vigour. Fishes possess most of the senses in an inferior degree to land animals. Their sense oi smelling, (though furnish- ed with nostrils) is less perfect, than in the other parts of animated nature, as must be evident from the nature of the fluid they inhabit ; this sense in them can only act, from the action of the fluid, tinctured with the odour of the object^ upon the olfactory nerves within, in the same manner as the palates of other an- imals discover tastes. Their sense of taste must also be very imperfect ; their palate being of a hard bony nature ; whereas, in quadrupeds who possess this sense in an exquisite degree, this Animals. 223 organ is very soft and pliant. From this indiscrimination, fish will frequent- ly swallow the plummet, as well as the bait. Their sense of hearing is still more defective, if they possess this facul- ty at all, as is evident from the frequent experiments which have been made. No fish, except the whale kind, have the least appearance, on dissection, of any auditory organs. Their sense of sight^ is however somewhat more perfect, though inferior to that of most other an- imals. They are totally destitute of eyelids ; the eyes being covered with the same skin that overspreads the rest of the body. The period to which fishes live, is ve- ry little known, though it is generally believed they attain to a considerable age ; some of the least exceed in their age that of a man. The method of dis- covering their ages, is either by examin- ing the transverse coverings of their scales, by means of a microscope ; or by the transverse section of the back bone. Buffon found a carp which by the former method of computation appeared to be a hundred years old, allowing one year 224- Animals* for every covering of the scales ; the Skate, and Ray, like other fish \vhich have no scales, have their ages discover- ed, by seperating the joints of the back bone, and then examining the number of rings which the surface exhibited where it vvas joined, allowing one year for each ring. Little can be said in favour of the certainty of either of these methods ; they however, though not infallible cri- terions, enable us to make a near approx- imation to the truth. The greatest singularity in fishes, is their amazing fecundity. Some are vi- viparous, and others oviparous ; the lat- ter produce their young, or rather their eggs, in far greater abundance than the former ; but at the same time they are more subject to become the prey of oth- er fish, and even of their own species, not excepting the parent itself which ex- cluded them, while they continue in their egg state ; consequently but very few of these eggs produce live animals, though produced in such considerable numbers. A single Cod will produce above nine million of eggs in one sea- son ; and many other fish have as pro- portionable an increase* , the^ Animals. 225 V. Insects. Insects and animals of e worm kind, seem to form the lowest order among the various tribes of living creatures which inhabit our globe. The distinguishing characters of insects are, that their bodies are covered with 'i of bony substance instead of &1 ; their heads furnished with horns. An insect, may moi ;.- ly be defined a small animal w, blood, (this matter being, white a bones, or cartilages ; furnished trunk, or else a mouth, which d length ways, contrary to the natural or- der ; the eyes destitute of covering ; and lungs opening on the sides of the body. This definition will comprehend the whole class of insects of every descrip- tion. This class of beings is so numerous, and so various, as to exceed the most accurate and unwearied observations. To give the different species of only flies and moths, would be a fruitless attempt ; but to give the history of every species of insect would be utterly impracticable ; so varied are they in their forms, sizes, habitudes, methods of propagation, and manners and duration of life. A gener* T2 226 Animals. al division of them, however, according to their most apparent external differ- ences of form, may be attempted. The first class of these beings, which present themselves to our observation, appear to be those which are destitute of \vings, and are seen crawling about on every plant and spot of earth. Some of these never acquire wings, but continue in this reptile state during their whole lives. These are all oviparous, except the Flea and the Wood-Louse ; and pro- perly constitute the first division of in- sects. Others which hereafter become winged insects, belonging to the following divisions. The second grand division of insects, are those furnished with wings ; but which, when first produced from the egg, appear like reptiles, and have their wings so cased up, as to be quite con- cealed ; but when these cases break, the wings expand, and the animal acquires Its perfect form and beauty. Of this nature are the Dragon Fly, the Grass- hopper, and the Ear- wig. The third order of insects, are those of the Moth, and the Butterfly kind. Animals. 227 which have all four wings each, covered with a mealy substance of various colours, which easily rubs off; and when examin- ed by the microscope, appears to be ele- gant scales. These insects have a pecu- liar method of propagation ; they are ovi- parous : and when first hatched from the egg, are perfect caterpillars, which often shed their skins ; and after having dives- ted themselves of their skins for the last time, assume new coverings called chrys- alides, in which state they continue till they come forth in their perfect winged forms. The fourth division include those wing- ed insects which originate from Worms, and not from Caterpillars like the for- mer, though they undergo similar trans- formations. Some of these are furnished with two, and others with four wings each. The wings of animals of this class differ from those of the Moth and But- terfly kind, in being destitute of those scales with which these are furnished. This class includes all the numerous class of Flies, Gnats, Beetles, &c. The fifth and last class of insects, con- tain those which naturalists have termed 228 Anzmak. Zoophytes ; and are distinguished by their peculiar mode of propagation, so different from the ordinary course of na- ture. They may be multiplied by dissec- tion ; a'jci some of thorn, though cut in a hundred pieces, will still retain the vital principle in each separate part ; each part shortly becoming a perfect animal ; which ni ;y iv^aiu be increased in the same man- ner. To this class belong the Polypus, the Earth-worm, and all the varieties of the Sea Nettlt. Insects are furnished with all the ne- cessary appendages proper to each, for the purposes of defence, of flight, or pro- viding for their own subsistence. The different parts of their bodies, are also constructed with admirable skill. The eye, for instance, is differently formed from that of any other creature : it is ex- ternally rigid, whereby it is not obnoxious to many injuries ; the cornea is divided in every part into lenticular facets, which, viewed by the microscope, appear like a beautiful piece of lattice-work, each open- ing reflecting the rays of light so, that when looked through, the object appears inverted, and thereby supplies the place of Artimals. 229 crystalline humour, of which insects are intirely destitute. Larger animals are obliged to turn their eyes towards the ob- ject they wish to behold,but many insects, us flies, have their eyes so constructed as to admit the view of every neighbouring object at once. The numbur of eyes are very different in different insects ; some have only one ; others have two ; spiders have generally eight; and flies have as many as there are perforations in the cor- nea, which are very numerous. Most in- sects are furnished with two antennas, or feelers, which serve to keep their eyes clean. Amphibious insects have their feet formed of flat joints ; and gristles placed on each side of the extremity of the limb, which supply the place of oars, as in the Water- Beetles. Insects formed for leap- ing, as the Cricket and Grasshopper, have strong, brawny, muscular legs; while those who use their claws in perforating the earth, have these members admirably adapted for this purpose. Insects and reptiles, though seemingly the most insignificant of animated beings have an important part assigned them to perform in this universe. Though the 230 Animals. duration of their life be but as a moment and their strength, when compared with that of the larger animals, as nothing yet their power is often irresistible. The strongest animal which treads the earth is frequently driven to madness by the endless irritation these insignificant beings produce ; the sun himself is deprived of his light by the shading of their wings, and every leaf that can give support to an- imal life is often swept, at once, away by their devouring jaws ; neither has the in- genuity of man, which subdues the stron- gest, and reclaims the most ferocious an- imals, enabled him to devise the means of defending himself from the devastation of these active invaders of his rights. His very existence itself, on many occa- sions, depends upon his speedily with- drawing beyond the sphere of their ac- tive incursions. If their power be thus irresistible, their utility is not perhaps less conspicuous on this globe. Man has ever been able, on some occasions, to make them become subservient to his will. The bee collects honey for his use ; the moth, under his influence, affords him silk ; the cantharis Animals. 231 an active drug; the cochineal insect the most brilliant of his dyes. Even where they are totally beyond his control they minister indirectly to his wants. Under the form of eggs, maggots, grubs, cater- pillars, aurelice, and flies, they furnish food to innumerable creatures, who augment his comforts in a thousand ways. But it is as the scavengers of this universe that these puny beings become chiefly saluta- ry to man, and all animated nature. With-* out their unceasing aid in this respect, the air would become quickly tainted with the most noxious effluvia, which would soon put an end to animal existence. To obviate this,the beneficentCreator hath de- creed, that a numerous department of this class of beings, while in their reptile state, shall be unceasingly employed in searching for and devouring every thing that has once lived, and is now tending to decay. Under this state of degradation these creatures are doomed to labour for a time with unceasing assiduity : and that no- thing might divert their attention from this important business, even for one moment, the distinctions of sex are with- held from them while in this state ; nor 232 Animals. does it seem that these have a single per- ceptive faculty, unless it be that of stri- ving to preserve their existence, and al- lay their insatiable appetite for food.- Having, at length, however, with the most patient assiduity, performed the mental task that was assigned them, they are then called, by the bounty of the Cre- ator, into another and superior state of existence, in which thev are destined to perform a part the most opposite which can be conceived to that they formerly ac- ted. The unsightly grub, after a tempo- rary death, awakens into new life ; and deserting the clod it lately inhabited, and nauseating its former food, sports in the sun-beam, and sips the balmy dew ; nor does the butterfly, now arrayed in the most gorgeous attire, seem to claim the most distant alliance with the ugly caterpillar from whence it sprang. The attraction of sex seems to form the chief business of this period of life ; food is neglected as if unnecessary, and its life is devoted to am- orous dalliance alone. Having soon pro- vided a numerous progency of voracious labourers, it leaves this transitory scene, to make room for those who are destined Animals* 233 to supply its important' place in the universe. The changes and transformations of in- sects are first from the ovum (egg) into the larva (caterpillar or maggot;) then in- to the pupa (chrysalis) and lastly into the imago (fly.) Pupa is a name derived from, the resemblance of the insect in this state to an infant in swaddling clothes ; and the term is now used in preference tochrysalis. The period of existence in each of these states varies greatly in different species of insects ; but in general they continue much longer in the reptile state than in that of the fly. The species of fly called ichneumon remains in the water as a kind of worm for the space of about two years; in its fly state it seldom continues more than one day. The ephemeron is nearly the same ; and the grub of the cockchaffer remains vmder ground for about two years also ; in its fly state it in general exists only about two months. 2*34 ffuman Frame. CHAP. XII. Of the Human Frame. MAN is placed at the head of the animal creation. Animated and enlight- ened by a ray from the Divinity, he sur- passes in dignity every material being- He was made after all other creatures^ not only as the most perfect, but as the surperintendent and master of all things ; created u to rule over the fish in the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over cattle, and over the earth, and over every creeping thing*" The body of a well-shaped man ought to be square, the muscles ought to be strong- ly marked, the contour of the mejnb boldly delineated, and the features c the face well defined. In women, all the parts are more rounded and softer, the features are more delicate, and the com- plexion brighter. To man belong strength and majesty ; gracefulness and beauty Hum an Fram e. 235 the portion of the other sex. Every thing in both sexes points them out as sovereigns of the earth ; even the exter- nal appearance of man declares his su- periority to other living creatures. His head tends towards the heavens, and in his august countenance beams the sacred ray of sapient reason. He alone sheds the tears which arise from emotions of sensibility, unknown to animals ; and he alone expresses the gladness of his soul by laughter. His erect posture and ma- jestic deportment announce his dignity and superiority. He touches the earth only with the extremity of his body ; his arms and hands, formed for nobler ends than the correspondent organs of quadrupeds, execute the purposes oi his mind, and bring every thing within his reach, which can minister to his wants and his pleasures. By his eyes, which reflect the intelligence of thought, and the ardour of sentiment, and which are peculiarly the organs of the soul, are ex- pressed the soft and tender, as well as the violent and tumultuous passions. They are turned, not towards the heavens, but to the horizon, so that he may behold at 236 Human Frame. once the sky which illuminates, and the earth which supports him. Their reach extends to the nearest and the most dis- tant objects, and glances from the grains of sand at his feet, to the star which shines over his head at an immeasurable dis- tance. 'The human body consists of solid and fluid parts, which in general are called the solids and fluids, or humours of the body. The solid parts are bones, cartil- ages, ligaments, muscles, tendons, mem- branes, nerves, arteries, veins, ducts, or fine tubular vessels of various sorts. Of these simple solids the more compound organs of life consist, viz. the brain and cerebellum ; the lungs, the stomach, the liver, the spleen, the pancreas, the kid- neys, the glands, the intestines, together with the organs of sense, viz. the eyes > the ears, the nose, and the tongue. The fluid parts of the human body are chyle, blood, saliva or spittle, bile, milk, lympha, the semen, the pancreatic juice ', urine, phlegm, serum, and the aqueous humour of the eyes. Anatomists have employed much pains in the study of the material part of man. Human If ram c, 237 have assigned to each of the above parts their appropriate use in the econo- my of his frame, but none, perhaps have given so comprehensive and eloquent a description of the structure of man as the late Dr. Hunter. u In order" says this celebrated anatomist, " to acquire a satisfactory general idea of this subject, let us, in imagination, make a man ; in other words, let us construct a fabric fit for the residence of an intelligent soul. This soul is to hold a correspondence with all material beings around her ; and, to that end, she must be supplied with organs fitted to receive the different kinds of impressions which they will make* In fact, therefore, we see that she is pro- vided with the organs of sense, as we call them : the eye is adapted to light ; the ear to sound ; the nose to smell ; the moutJi to taste ; and the skin to touch- Farther, she must be furnished with or- gans of communication between herself in the brain and those organs, to give her information of all the impressions that are made on them ; and she must have organs between herself in the brain .\rA r very -other part of the body fitted U2 238 Human Frame. to convey her commands and influence over the whole. For these purposes, the nerves are actually given. They are chords which rise from the brain, the immediate residence of the mind, and disperse themselves in branches through all parts of the body. They are intended to be occasional monitors agninst all such impressions as might endanger the well- being of the whole, or of any particular part ; and this vindicates the Creator of all things in having actually subjected us to those many disagreeable and painful sensations which we are exposed to form a thousand accidents in life. Moreover, the mind, in this corporeal system, must be endued with the power of moving from place to place, that she may have intercourse with a variety of objects ; that she may fly from such as are disagreeable, dangerous, or hurtful, and pursue such as are pleasant and useful to her ; and, accor- dingly, she is supplied with muscles and tendons, the instruments of motion, which are found in every part of the fabric where motion is necessary ; but, to give firmness and shape to the fabric ; to keep the softer parts in their proper place ; to give fix- ed points for, and proper direction to, Human Frame. 239 its motions, as well as to protect some of the more important and tender organs from external injuries, there must be some firm prop-work interwoven through the whole ; and, in fact, for such pur- poses the bones were given. The prop- work must not be made into one rigid fabric, for that would prevent motion. Therefore, there are a number of bones^. These pieces must all be firmly bound to- gether, to prevent their dislocation ; and this end is perfectly answered by thet/zg*- aments. The extremities of these bony pieces, where they move and rub upon one another, must have smooth and slip- pery surfaces of easy motion. This is most happily provided for by the cartila- ges and mucus of the joints. The inter- stices of all these parts must be filled up with some soft and ductile matter, which shall keep them in their places, unite them, and at the same time allow them to move a little upon one another ; and * Dr. Kezll reckons 245 bones in the human body, others make them to be 249, viz. In the skull 14, in the face and throat 46, in the trunk 67. in the arms and hands 62, and in the legs and fcet 60. 240 Human Frame. these purposes are answered by the eel lar membrane, or adipose substance. There must be an adequate cover, over the whole apparatus, both to give it compactness and to defend it from u thousand injuries ; which, in fact, are v the very purposes of the skin, and other in- teguments. Lastly, the mind being form- ed for society and intercourse with be- ings of her own kind, she must be endu- ed with powers of expressing and com- mu Bleating her thoughts by some sensi- ble marks or signs, easy to herself and capable of great variety ; and accordingly she is provided with the organs and fa- culty of speech, by which she can throw out signs with amazing facility, and van them without end. u Thus we have built a body which seems to be pretty complete ; but, as it is the nature of matter to be worked upon and altered so, in a very little time, e. a living creature must 1 'jyed, if there is no provision for repairing the in- juries which she will commit upon her- self, and those which she ...Tposed to from without. Therefore,, a treasure of blwd is actually '.e heart Human Frame. 24 jL and vascular system, full of nutritious and .nicies, fluid, and able to pene- trate into the minutest parts of the ani- mal ; impeilfd by the heart, and convey- ed by the arteries, it washes every part, builds up what was broken down, and sweeps away the old useless materials. Hence we see the necessity or advan- tage of the heart and arterial system. - What more than enough there was of the blood to repair the present damages of the machine, must not be lost, but should be returned again to the heart ; and for this purpose the veins are actually provid- ed. These requisites in the animal, ex- plain a priori, the circulation of the blood. The old materials, which are be- come useless, and are swept off by the current of the blood, must be separated and thrown out of the system. Therefore the glands, the organs of secretion, are given for straining whatever is redun- dant, vapid, or noxious, from the mass of blood ; and, when strained, they are thrown out by entunctories, called organs of excretion. But now, as the machine must be constantly wearing, the opera- tions must be carried on without inter- 242 Human Frame. mission, and the strainers must be always employed; therefore, there is actually a perpetual circulation of the blood, and the secretions are always going on. Even all this provision, however, would not be -sufficient ; for that store of blood would be soon consumed, and the fabric would break down, if there were not a provision made for fresh supplies. These we ob- serve in fact are profusely scattered round her in the animal and vegetable king- doms ; and she is furnished with hands, the fittest instruments that could have been contrived, for gathering them, and for preparing them in a variety of ways for the mouth. But these supplies, which we call food, must be considerably ch^ng- ed ; they must be converted into blood. Therefore, she is provided with teeth for cutting and bruising the food, and with a stomach for melting it down ; in short, with all the organs subservient to diges- tion. The finer parts of the aliments on- ly can be useful in the constitution : these must be taken up and conveyed into the blood, and the dregs must be thrown off* With this view, the intestinal canal is ac- tually given. It separates the nutritious Human Frame* part, which we call chyle, to be conveyed into the blood by the system of the absor- bent vessels ; and the feces pass down- ward out of the body. Thus we see that, by the very imperfect survey which hu- man reason is able to take of this subjects the animal man, must necessarily be com- plex in his corporeal system, and in its operations; and in taking this general view of what would appear, a priori, to be necessary for adapting an animal to the situations of life, we observe, with great satisfaction, that man is according- ly made of such systems, and for such purposes. He has them all : and he has nothing more, except the organs of respi- ration. Breathing it seemed difficult to account for a priori ; we only know it to be a fact essentially necessary to life. > Notwithstanding this, when we see all the other parts of the body, and their functions so veil accounted for, and so wisely adapted to their several purposes, there would be no doubt that respiration was so likewise ; and, accordingly, the discoveries of Doctor Priestley have late- ly thrown light upon this function also^ " Of all the different systems in the 244 Human Frame. human body the use and necessity are not more apparent, than the wisdom and con- trivance which has been exerted in put- ting them all into the most compact and convenient form ; in disposing them so that they shall mutually receive and give helps from one another ; and that all, or many of the parts shall not only answer their principal end and purpose, but ope- rate successfully and usefully in a varie- ty of secondary ways. If we consider the whole animal machine in this light, and compare it with any in which human art has exerted its utmost skill (suppose the best constructed ship that ever was built,) we shall be convinced, beyond the possibility of doubt, that there exists in- telligence and power far surpassing what human art can boast of. Oae superiori- ty in the animal machine is peculiarly- striking. In machines of human contri- vance, or of art, there is no internal pow- er, no principle in the thing itself, by which it can alter and accommodate it- self to any injury that it may suffer, or make up any injury that admits of repair ; but in the natural machine, or animal bo- dy, this is most wonderfully provided fo* Human Frame* 243 by the internal powers of the machine itself; many of which are not more cer- tain and obvious in their effects, than they are above all human comprehension as to the manner and means of their opera- tion. Thus, a wound heals up of itself ; a broken bone is made firm by a callus ; a dead part is separated and thrown off; noxious juices are driven out by the emunctories ; a redundancy is removed by some spontaneous bleeding ; a bleed- ing naturally stops of itself; and a great loss of blood, from any cause, is in some measure compensated by a contracting power in the muscular system, which ac- commodates the capacity of the vessel to the quantity contained. The stomach gives information when the supplies have been expended, represents with great ex- actness the quantity and quality of what is wanted in the present state of the ma- chine, and in proportion as she meets with neglect rises in her demand, urges her petition in a louder tone, and with more forcible arguments. For its protection, an animal body resists hea't and cold in a very wonderful manner, and preserves an equal temperature in a burning and i.i* 246 Human Frame. a freezing atmosphere. These are pow- ers which mock all human invention or imitation ; they are characteristics of the Divine Architect!" Part of the motions of the complicat- ed frame of man, in common with all animated beings, are voluntary, or de- pendent on the mind f and part mvohin- fari/^ or without the mind's direction. How the incorporeal existence, which we call mind, can operate on matter, and put it in motion, is to us perfectly incom- prehensible. When the miatomist con- siders the number of muscles that must be put in motion before any animal exer- tion can be effected ; when he views them one by one, and tries to ascertain the precise degree to which every indivi- dual muscle must be constricted, or re- laxed, before the particular motion indi- cated can be effected, he finds himself lost in the labyrinth of calculations in which this involves him ; but when he considers that every one of these muscles must be constricted or relaxed to the pre- cise degree that appertains to each, and no more, and at the same instant of time ; when he recollects, that the smallest jar- Human Frame. ring in this respect in any one of these would throw the whole into inextricable disorder ; when he considers with what promptitude the whole of this is done in an instant by the mere act of his volition, and how in another instant, by a change in that volition, all these muscles are thrown into a different state, and a new set brought into action, and so on conti- nually as long as he pleases, his mind is lost in the immensity of wonder that this excites. But when he farther reflects, that it is not only he himself that is en- dowed with the faculty of calling forth those incomprehensible energies, but that; the most insignificant insect is vested with powers of a similar sort, he is still more confounded., A skilful naturalist has been able to perceive, that in the body of the poorest caterpillar, which, in the common opinion, is one of the most de- graded existences on the globe, there are upwards of two thousand muscles, all of which can be brought into action with as much facility at the will of that insect, and perform their several offices with as much accuracy, promptitude, and preci- sion, as in the most perfect animal ; 248 Human Frame* all this is done by that insect with ati equal consciousness of the manner how, as the similar voluntary actions of man are effected. Nor are the involuntary motions less mysterious and wonderful. The sto- mach, the intestines, and all the functions necessary to life, wait not to be called in- to action by any volition of ours. The heart, placed near the centre of the sys- tem, performs its task as well ..when we are asleep, as when we are awake, by night as by day, and like an unwearied and iaithful labourer, with muscular exertions distributes the vital stream through our complicated frame, 'till their wearied functions cease, and the tenement of clay is inhabited no more. How admirably It is calculated to keep up this continued circulation throughout the system may be understood by the following computa- tion by Dr. Keill: u Each ventricle will at least contain one ounce of blood. The hearts contracts four thousand times in one hour ; from which it follows, that there passes through the heart, every hour, four thousand ounces, or three hundred and fifty pounds of blood, Now Human Frame. 249 the whole mass of bloed is said to be about twenty-five pounds, so that a quan- tity of blood equal to the whole mass of blood passes through the heart fourteen times in one hour ; which is about once every four minutes-" Consider what an affair this is when w T e come to very large animals. The aorta of a whale is larger in the bore than the main-pipe of the water-works at London-Bridge ; and the wat,er roaring in its passage through that pipe, is inferior in impetus and velocity to the blood gushing from the whale's heart. Hear Dr. Hunter's account of the dissection of a whale. u the aorta mea- sured a foot diameter. Ten or fifteen gallons of blood is thrown out of the heart at a stroke, with an immense velo- city, through a tube of a foot diameter. The whole idea fills the mind with won- der." It is thus, O great Author of all Things ! we discover Thee in thy works* OF THE FIVE SENSES. Of Seeing-. The organ of seeing is the Eye. It is a curious and most won- derful piece of nature's work> admirably rontrived with various coats^ muscles. Human Frame. vessels, and humours of three several >, for the purpose of vision. The first humour of the eye is called the aque- ous humour, being in all respects like water, hut of a spirituous nature ; for it will not freeze in the greatest cold. The second is called the crystalline humour^ being transparent, and more solid than, cither of the other ; its figure resembles an optic lens, convex on both sides, and its use in the eye is the same. Behind this lies the vitreous or glassy humour ; it is very much like the white of an egg ; it is in greater abundance than either of the other ; it gives the eye its spheri- cal form ; and is thicker than the aque- ous, but thinner than the crystalline hu- mour. Next this humour, on the bot- tom of the eye, is spread a fine curious rnembrane, called the retina, through which are expanded the medullary fibres of the cpi'ic nerve, which come from the brain. Now the rays of light, which come from all parts of any object, falling upon the aqueous humour of the eye, are through it refracted to the crystalline hu- humour, by which, as a double convex lens (kept always at a proper distance by Human Frame, 25 i the glassy humour) they are all converg- ed and united on the retina ; -the impres- sion thereof being communicated to the common sensory of the brain by the optic nerves, doth there present to the mind the species and image of the object. That, which immediately affects the sight, and produces in us that sensation, which \ve call seeing, is light. Light may be considered either, first, as it radiates from luminous bodies di- rectly to our eyes ; and thus we see lu- minous bodies themselves, as the sun, or a flame, &c. or, secondly, as it is reflect- ed from other bodies ; and thus we see a man, or a picture by the rays of light reflected from them to our eyes. Bodies, in respect of light, may be di- vided into three sorts ; first, those that emit rays of light, as the sun and fixed stars ; secondly, those that transmit the rays of light, as the air ; thirdly, those that reflect the rays of light, as iron, earth, &c. the first are called luminous ; the second pellucid ; arid the third opaque. Opaque bodies are of two sorts, specu- lar, or not specular. Specular bodies, or mirrors ? are such opaque bodies whose :252 Human Frame* surfaces are polished ; whereby they, re- flecting the rays in the same order as they come from other bodies, shew us their images. The rays that are reflected from opaque bodies always bring with them to the eye the idea of colour; and this colour is nothing else in the bodies, but a disposi- tion to reflect to the eye more copiously one sort of rays than another. For par- ticular rays are originally endowed with particular colours ; some are red, others blue, others yellow, and others green, &c. Every ray of light, as it comes from the sun, seems a bundle of all these seve- ral sorts of rays ; and as some of them are more refrangible than others ; that is, are more turned out of their course, in passing from one medium to another, it follows, that after such refraction they will be separated, and their distinct co- lour observed. Of these, the most re- frangible are violet, and the least red ; and the intermediate ones, in order, are indigo, blue, green, yellow, and orange. This separation is very entertaining, and will be observed with pleasure in hold- ing a prism in the beams of the sun. Human Frame. 253 As all these rays differ in refrangibili- ty 7 60 they do in reftexibilrty, that is, in the property of being more easily reflect- ed from certain bodies, than from others ; and hence arise, as hath been said, ail the colours of bodies, which are in a manner infinite, as an infinite number of compositions, and proportions of the original colours may be imagined. The whiteness of the sun's light is compounded of all the original colours mixed in a due proportion. Whiteness, in bodies, is but a disposi- tion to reflect all colours of light nearly in the proportion they are mixed in the original rays ; as, on the contrary, black- ness, is only a disposition to absorb or stifle, without reflection, most of the rays f every sort that fall on the bodies. Besides colour, we are supposed to see figure ; but in truth, that which we perceive when we see figure, as perceiv- able by sight, is nothing but the termina- tion of colour. Of hearing, Next to seeing, hearing is the most extensive of our senses. The Ear is the organ of hearing. Sounds are brought to the ear from so 254 Human Frame. norous bodies by means of the ail- ; and the external part of the ear is so contriv- ed, by its ridges and hollows, that sounds, being gathered into it as into a tunnel, are thereby directed to the meatus audi- torious, through -which they pass and strike upon a thin transparent membrane of an oval figure, set a little obliquely across the passage of the ear ; behind this membrane there is a pretty large ca- vity, which, with the said membrane, from its resemblance, is called the tympa- num, or drum of the ear. In this cavity are four small bones, which from their form are called malleolus, or the hammer ; the incus, or the anvil ; the shapes* or stirrup ; and the os orbicculure, or circu- lar bone. Within the tympanum there are several other cavities, as the vestibu* him, the labyrinth, and the cochlea ; these Internal cavities are always full of air ; wherefore the sounds in the external air striking on the drum, move the four lit- tle bones in the tympanum, and these in like manner move the internal air, which maketh an impression on the fine bran- ches of the auditory nerve spread through the vestibulum, the winding tubes of the Human Frame, 23* labyrinth, and cochlea ; and thus all re- fractions and modulations of the exter- ternal air become perceptible, and conse- quently all the different sounds they con- vey become audible, and intelligible to the mind, by the communication of these nerves with the brain, or common sensory* That which is conveyed into the brain by the ear, is called sound, though in truth, till it come to reach and affect the perceptive part, it be nothing but motion* The motion which produces in us the perception of sound, is a vibration of the air, caused by an exceeding short, but quick, tremulous motion of the body from which it is propagated ;*' and therefore we consider and denominate them as bodies sounding. That sound is the effect of such a short, brisk, vibrating motion of bodies from which it is propagated, may be known from what is observed and felt in the strings of instruments, and the tremb- ling of bells, as long as we perceive any sound come from them ; for as soon as that vibration is stopped, or ceases in them, the perception ceases also. Of Smelling. Smelling is another 256 Human Frame* sense. The organ of smelling is trft Nose The cavity of the nose is divided into two parts, we call the nostrils, by a parti- tion, of which the upper part is bony, and the lower cartilaginous. The upper part of the cavity is covered with a thick glandulous membrane, above which the olfactory nerve is finely branched out anc 1 spread over the membrane of the spon- gy bones of the nose, and other sinous cavities of the nostrils. Whence the ex- halations of odours entering the nostrils make their impressions on the fibres of the nerves, which by their communica- tion with the brain, excite in the mine" the smell or sensation of odours of eve- ry kind. Smelling bodies seem perpetually td send forth effluvia or steams, without sensibly wasting at all. Thus a grain of musk will send forth odoriferous parti- cles for scores of years together, without its being spent ; whereby one would con- clude that these particles are very small ; and yet it is plain, that they are much grosser than the rays of light, which have a free passage through glass ; and gros- ser also than the magnetic effluvia, which Human Frame. 25? pass freely through ail bodies, when those that produce smell will not pass ihe thin membranes of a bladder, and many of them scarce ordinary white paper. There is a great variety of smelts, though we have but a few names for them; sweet, stinking, sour, rank, and musty, are almost all the denominations we have for odours j though the smell of a violet, and of musk, both called sweet > are as distinct as any two smells whatso- ever. Of Taste. Taste is the next sense to be considered* The organ of -Taste is the Tongue. The tongue is covered with two mem- branes ; the external is thick and rugged, especially in beasts ; the internal me for example, a colour, a sound. Complex Ideas consist of several simple Ideas united in the same representation, appearance or perception; and they either come into the mind thus united from the operation of things without us,as the idea, solidity and figure, is caused by the same ball ; therefore in the complex idea of the ball we conceive such ideas as co-existent and concomitant ; or else when such sim- ple ideas are united by the mind, as in the idea of law, obligation, ^c. In the production of Complex Ideas which are formed at the pleasure of the mind, it exerts three voluntary acts, viz* Co mposition,Abstr action, and Comparison* Composition is joining together two or more Simple Ideas, and considering them as one picture or representation. By composition we have the ideas of num- ber, extension, &c. Abstraction is separating from a par- ticular idea those circumstances which render it the representative of a single 266 Human Understanding* determinate object, and thereby making it to denote a whole rank or class of things. Hence we acquire Universal Ideas, such as whiteness, beauty, melody, &c. Comparison is bringing two or more ideas into the view of the mind, and ex- amining their mutual correspondencies* By comparison we gain our ideas of Re- lations, which are proportional, as equal, more, less, Sec. or natural, as father, mother, &c. or civil, as king and people,, general and army, &c. This division of our ideas, as it seems to be the most natural, and truly to rep- resent the manner in which they are in- troduced into the mind, will be found to include them in all their varieties. We know that our thoughts, although so numerous and manifold, are all con- tained within our own breasts, and are in- visible. But as men were not created to live solitarily, or independently of each other, we are provided with organs pro- per for framing articulate sounds, and a capacity of using those sounds as signs of internal conceptions. From hence are derived words and language. For any sound being once determined upon to Human Understanding. 26JT stand as the sign of an idea, custom by degrees establishes such a connexion be- tween them, that the appearance of the idea in the understanding always brings to our remembrance the name by which it is expressed ; and in like manner the hearing of the name never fails to excite the idea which it is intended to denote. This connexion between words and ideas, however, is perfectly arbitrary, and dependent on custom. By language we are enabled to define our ideas. Definition is " the showing the meaning of one word by several oth- er not synonymous terms." And here it may be observed, that Simple Ideas can- not be defined, since definition is resol- ving the thing to be defined into its most simple ideas ; but Complex Ideas may be defined, because they may be resolved in- to their simple ideas. Definition furnish- es us with the fittest means of communica- ting our thoughts ; for if we were unable to impart our Complex Ideas to each oth- er by the aid of definition, it would in ma- ny cases be impossible to make them known. This is evident in those ideas which are solely the offspring of the min(l 268 Human Understanding*. For as they exist only in the understand- ing, and have no real objects in nature, in conformity to which they are framed, if \ve could not communicate them to others by description, they must be confined to the narrow limits of a single mind. All the beautiful ideas formed by the fancy of a Shakspeare or a Milton, without the faculty of displaying them by words, would never have extended their influence beyond their own breasts. All language may be resolved into Nouns and Verbs , with their respective Abbreviations. Nouns express names of things : they are divided into Substantives, which are the principal things spoken of ; and Ad- jectives, which denote qualities, or cir- cumstances belonging to them. Verbs express modes of existence. They are of three kinds, such as denote simple existence ; for example, to be ; such as express existence in an active state, for example, to eat : and such as express existence in a passive state ; as, to be eaten. Words which are usually represented as indeclinable particles having no deter- Human Understanding. 269 minate signification of their own, are Ab- breviations of Nouns or Verbs, invented for the greater expedition of commuica- ting our thoughts. Thus If signifies give, and signifies add, being impera- tives of corresponding verbs. See this theory of language stated and evinced in Mr.HorneTooke's Diversions of Purley. Having thus considered our ideas, which are the materials of our knowledge, and our language, which is the manner of our conveying them to others ; the last thing is to consider how our ideas are put together, and compared one with the other. And herein, First, of Knowledge. Knowledge, which is the highest de- gree of the speculative faculties, consists in the perception of the connexion and agreement, or disagreement and repug- nancy of our ideas. This perception is either immediate or mediate. Immediate perception of the agreement or disagreement of two ideas, is when, by comparing them together in our minds, we see, or, as it were, we behold their agreement or disagreement. This therefore is called Intuitive Know- 27O Human Understanding, ledge. Thus we see that red is not green - 9 that the whole is bigger than a part ; that two and two are equal to four. The truth of these and the like propo- sitions we know by bare simple intuition of the ideas themselves, without any more ado ; and such propositions are called self-evident. The mediate perception of the agree-, ment or disagreement of two ideas, is, when by the intervention of one or more other ideas, their agreement or disagree- ment is shewn. This is called Demon- stration or Rational Knowledge. For instance, the inequality of the breadth of two windows, or two rivers, or any two bodies that cannot be put together, may be known by the intervention of the same measure applied to them both ; and so it is in our general ideas, whose agreement or disagreement may be often shewn by the intervention of some other ideas, so as to produce demonstrative knowledge, where the ideas in question cannot be brought together, and immedi- ately compared, so as to produce intui- tive knowledge. Secondly, Of Judgment. Human Understanding. judgment is that faculty which is giv- en man to supply the want of clear and certain knowledge, where that cannot be had. It consists in putting ideas togeth- er, or seperating them from one another in the mind, when their certain agree- ment or disagreement is not perceived, but presumed to be so ; which is, as the word imports, taken to be so before it certainly appears. Hence the understanding doth not on- ly know certain truth, but also judges of probability* Probability is always con- versant about propositions whereof we have no certainty, as in knowledge, but only some inducements to receive them as true ; such as their conformity to our own knowledge, observation and experi- ence ; and the entertainment the mind gives this sort of propositions is called assent, opinion or belief. Of probability there are various de- grees, from a moral certainty to the slightest degree of evidence ; and the degrees of assent are proportionably va- rious, from the least deviation from the equilibrium to the lowest degree upon the scale of evidence, and even to amor- al impossibility* 272 Human Understanding, Lastly, Of Reason. Reason is the pre-eminent faculty of the human mind, and is necessary and assisting to all our other intellectual fa- culties. By it we enlarge our know- ledge and regulate our assent ; for it hath to do both in knowledge and opinion, and is the faculty which finds out the means, and rightly applies them, to dis- cover certainty in the one, and probabil- ity in the other. It is Reason which perceives the necessary and indubitable connexion of all the ideas and proofs one to another, in each step of any demon- stration that produces knowledge ; it like- wise perceives the probable connexion of all the ideas or proofs one to another, in every step of a discourse to which it will think assent due ; and where the mind does not perceive this probable connexion or no ; there men's opinions are not the product of Judgment, or the consequence of Reason, but the effects of chance, and of a mind floating at all adventures, without choice, and without direction* FINIS.