CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM K.t,a.''legand Cornell University Library arV16712 The young man's book of knowledge 3 1924 031 442 589 olin.anx Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031442589 THE YOUNG MAN'S BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE, A FAMILIAR VIEW OF THE IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION, THE WORKS OF NATURE, LOGIC, ELOQUENCE, THE PASSIONS, MATTER AND MOTION, MAGNETISM, MECHANJCAt POWERS, HTDKOSTATICS, HTDRAyLICS, OPTICS, ACOUSTICS, ELECTRICITT, GALVANISM, GEO- METRT, GEOGRAPHY, ASTEONOMT, HISTORY, CHRONOLOGY, ETC. BY THOMAS TEGG, BSiTOft or "the chr^nolost, or fnsTORUN*s comuitoK.** FIf IH AKEBICAN, ENLARGED AND lUFROVED FROM THE LATEST LONOOH EDITION. TO WBICB <9 ASBIS, A* EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY, APFROFRIATE REFLECTIONS ON THE PROSPERITY, INFLUENCB, AND IMPORTANCE OF THE UNITED STATES. " Knowledge in PowerV — Bacon. NEW-YORK: PUBLISHED BY £. KEARNY, PREFACE. From the established reputation of " The Young Man's Book op Knowledge," in England, — a reputation well deserved, from its excellent arrangement and popular style, the American Publisher cherishes the hope that it will receive a corresponding patron- age in the United States. To exalt the mind by contemplations on the beautiful and harmonious works of nature, and to give just impressions of the wisdom, power, and infi- nite love of God, are the leading views of this work. Much pleasing instruction will be found in every page, and that, too, of a ten- dency to be highly useful and valuable to every Young Man. The Arts and Sciences are elucidated in a clear and perspicuous manner, and the road to the Temple of Knowledge rendered easy and attractive. A wide field for profitable meditation is here presented to the diligent student. The " ample page" of Knowledge, " rich with the spoils of time," is here unrolled to the inves- tigation of the sober, the discreet, and the persevering disciples of wisdom. Here will be found incentives to benevolent actions — motives to value and improve the moments as they fly, and reflections suited to that iv PREFACE. great day, when every man shall be judged according to the light shed upon him in this state of probation. The following judicious observations by the celebrated Locke, are worthy of the most attentive consideration : — " Reading furnishes the mind only with materials of knowledge, it is thinking makes what we read ours. We are of the rumina- ting kind, and it is not enough to cram our- selves with a great load of collections ; unless we chew them over again, they will not give us strength and nourishment.' There are indeed in some writers visible instances of deep thought, close and acute reasoning, and ideas well pursued. The light these would give, would be of great use, if their readers would observe and imitate them ; all the rest at best are but particulars fit to be turned into knowledge ; but that can be done only by our own meditation, and examining the reach, force, and coherence of what is said ; and then as far as we apprehend and see the connection of ideas, so far it is ours ; without that it is but so much loose matter floating in our brain. The memory may be stored, but the judgment is little better, and the stock of knowledge not increased by being able to repeat what others have said, or produce the arguments we have found in them." To borrow the vigorous and sublime lan- guage of the Editor of this inestimable Trea- tise : — " The curiosity of man may be grati* PREFACE. V fied by surveying the productions of nature ; the farther he extends his researches, the more reason he will find to admire the gene- ral economy of created beings. Whatever objects his eyes behold, whether small or great, he will see design and order impressed upon them, in the most conspicuous charac ters. The stars scattered over the blue vault of heaven, and so numerous as to baffle cal- culation, whether they shine only to afford us light, or are the suns of other systems, and thus proclaim the extent of Almighty power, cannot fail to strike us with astonishment. The blazing comets, which were the dire prognostics, in the opinion of our ancestors, of the fall of kings, and the subversion of empires, we are taught by the improvements of philosophy to contemplate with admiration, devoid of terror ; and to consider as the abodes of creatures endowed with various powers and faculties. The earth performing her annual and diurnal circuit around the centre of the system, so as to produce a re- gular change of seasons, and a succession of light and darkness ; the ocean giving to man- kind the constant advantage of its tides ; and although frequently tempestuous, and some- times threatening to mix its waves with the clouds, and to overflow the earth, yet obey- ing the invariable laws of its flux and reflux, and never advancing beyond its prescribed bounds : — the air, which, from its partial pressure, would crush us to the ground, but VI PREFACE. by the elasticity of its internal resistaace forming an exact counterbalance, clearly de- monstrate the power, the wisdom, and the benignity of an omnipotent Creator. Time and space, substance and heat, are the vast materials of nature ; the wide universe is the sphere in which they act ; and life, activity, and happiness, constitute the end of their operations. The whole race of animals pre- served to the present time in the same flou- rishing state in which they were at first crea- ted ; the impulse of instinct directing them to wholesome food, to commodious habita- tions, and to the jjropagation of their kind ; the structure of their frames suitable to their immediate use ; the several tribes of crea- tures subordinate to each other, conducive in various respects to the good of man ; and the abundant provision made for their subsis- tence, are all evident and incontestible proofs of divine skill, contrivance, and power." In the advertisement to the twentieth Lon- don edition of this work, Mr. Tegg, the in- telligent author, modestly remarks, " the pri- mary design of this volume being the exten- sion of useful knowledge, no labour has been spared to compress into a small compass, materials gleaned from a vast variety of sources, and scattered through a number of volumes too extensive for the general and unlearned reader to attempt to peruse. The Editor has endeavoured also to arrange those materials in such a way as might be the most PREFACE. VII pleasing and attractive. The principles of each science, he likewise ^flatters himself, are laid down with a simplicity that will require no previous knowledge in the student, nor render their acquisition tiresome, by an ab- stract and dry detail." It is, perhaps, unnecessary for the Publisher to dwell longer on the merits of this volume. The judicious reader will readily perceive its claims on the community as a work fraught with information, and as being well calculated to subserve the great cause of Education and Public Virtue. THE AMERICAN PUBLISHER INDEX. CHAPTER L lo^ratanee of Keligbn ..... 13 CHAPTER IL WORKS OP NATURE .... 20 Of the Air and Atmosphere - . • - S3 Of the Meteors ..... S9 Of S[>rings, Riveis, and the Sea - • • 38 American Riveis ..... 42 Of Earths, Stones, Meials, Minerals, and other Fossils 46 Of Vegetables or Plants - - - . G3 Of Animals - - - . - • 73 Of the Human Flame - - • • 89 CHAPTER III. LOGIC 101 OfSimpleApprehenaon, or Perception • - 107 Judgment ....•• 113 Reasoning ...... 117 Method 119 CHAPTER IV. ELOatJENCE The Sources of Argument .... 123 The different Kinds of Style .... 124 The Ornaments of a Composition ... 127 The Arrangement of the Difierent Parts of a CompacititHi 131 Propriety of JJeliveiy and Action ... 133 CHAPTER V. THE PASSIONS 139 Origin of UiePasdons and Afiecdons • • 140 Classification of the Passions and Afieetioiw • 143 INDEX. CHAPTER VI. NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY 147 Of Elements, or the First Principles of Bodies - 150 Of Matter, and its Properties ... 156 Of Attraction Of Magnetism On Fire and its Proprties Of the Laws of Motion Of tbe Mechanic Powers Of Hydrostatics Of Hydraulics Optics Acoustics Of Electricity - Of Galvanism - 159 163 16'J 171 177 180 184 187 191 194 199 CHAPTER VII. GEOMETRY 203 Definitions ...... 206 OfLines - - . - 207 OfAngles 208 Definition of Superficies .... U09 Of Rectilinear Superficies or Figures — Of Triangles - 210 OfFigures of Four Sides .... 212 Of Mixed Figures— Of Regular and Irregular Figures 2 1 2 Axioms ...... 214 CHAPTER VIII. GEOGRAPHY AND ASTRONOMY - - 215 To rectify the globe, in order to find the true situation of any place .... 220 To find the longitude and latitude of a given place — To find what places are under the same meridian vvilh the given place — To find what places have the same latitude — To find the sun's place in the ecliptic at any time of the year — To know the length of tbe days at any time, and at any pUce - - 223 To find those places on the globe where the sun is in the meridian at any time — To find where the sun is vertical at any time of the year— To find where the sun is above the horizon, or shines without setting all the 24 hours, in the northern hemisphere - 222 To find the length of tbe longest and shortest days and nights at any place in the noithem hemisphere — To find in what place the sun is rising or setting, or in IKSEX. XI its meridian ; or what parts of the earth are enlight- ened at any particular time ... To find the distance of one place from another npon the ^lobe — To find how one place bears offanother ; tiiat IS, whether it. lies north-east, soutli-west, or any oth- er point of the compass from another place To find on what point of the compass the sun rises or sets at any place ..... ASTRONOMY A Table ofthe Solar System ... Comets — Of the Fixed Stars - - - • 223 2Zi 235 231 233 234 CHAPTER IX. HISTORY AND Second Epocha- Third Epoclia- Fourth Epocha- Fifth Epocha— Sixth E|K)cha- Seventh Epoch! Eiglith Epocha Ninth Gpiocba- Teoth Epocha- CHRONOLOGY - 239 I— The Deluge 249 —The Vocation of Abraham - 251 I — The Departure out of Egypt 253 -The taking of Troy 254 -Ihe Temple 256 a— The building of Rome 260 — The reign of Cyrus - —Alexander the Great - £66 273 -The Defeat of Peiseus 2S2 CHAPTER X. HISTORY OF ENGLAND— A Description of the An. cient State of Britain ... Its Invasion by the Romans, &c. William the Conqueror : reigned from I06C to 1087 William II. : from 1087 lo 1100 Heniy I.: from 1100 to 1135 - - Stephen: from 1135 to 1154 - . Henr; II. : from 1154 to 1189 - - Richard 1. : from 1181) to 1199 John: from 1199 to 1-210 Henry 111.: from 1216 to 1273 Edward I.: from 1272 lo 1307 \ Edward II : from 1307 to 1327 Edward I; I.: from 1327 to 1377 Richard II. : from 1377 lo 1398 Henr? IV. : from 1399 tn 1413 Henry V. : from 1413 to 1422 Henry VI. : from 1442 to 1461 Edward IV.: from 1461 to 1483 Edward V. : two mon'hs and twelve days of 1483 Richanllll: from 1483 to 1485 Henry V 1 1. : from 1485 to 1502 Henry VIIL : from 1509 to 1547 292 294 2m 1603 to 1625 - • • . 333 Charles 1.: Aom 1635 to 1649 • • . 334 The Commonwealth of England: ftom 1649 to 1658 • 337 Charles U. : Nominally from 1649, actiudly from 1660 to 1685338 James 11. : from 16S5 to 16»8 IVUIiam ill. : from 1688 to 1703 Anne : from 1702 to 1714 Geoige I. : from 1714 to 1727 Geoige 11. : from 1727 to 1760 Gtiap IlL: from 1760 to 1814 339 340 342 343 345 347 CHAPTER XI. EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY THE ABORIGINES • 391 TBE YOUNG MAN'S BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. CHAP. I. IMPORTANCE OP RELIGION. TT is acknowledged that man is superior to brute crea- ■■- tures, and that this superiority consists in his capacity of being much happier in himself, and in his power of contributing in a more eminent degree to the happiness of others ; by which means he makes nearer approaches to his MaJcer, who is supremely benevolent, and superlatively happy. It is also well known, that this superiority in man, with respect to his power of enjoying and communicating hap- piness, depends upon the superiority of his mental faculties, by which he is capable of greater comprehension of mind, of taking into his view more of the past and of the future along wth the present ; so that his ideas are more com- plex, and farther removed from mere sensible objects. In consequence of this, the happiness of man does not depend upon his present sensations, but is of a more stable nature : and his resol'Jtions and actions do not depend upon varia- ble circumstances, but he can pursue a uniform plan of conduct, without Ijeing diverted from it by the events of the hour, or of the day. This superior comprehension of mind cannot, however, in the nature of things, be attained by man without a state 14 vouNo man's book of knowlbdue. of progressive improvement, beginning with the condition of a brute animal, merely impressed by sensible objects, and impelled to action by those impressions, as children are ; because those impressions are the elements of all our knowledge, and of all our powers in future life ; and there is no true wisdom in any attempts to accelerate this pro- gress beyond a certain term. For what would a greater comprehension of mind, and a greater power of combining ideas, avail us, without a stock of ideas to combine and comprehend ? It is well known, that if we expect that boys should ever make valuable men, they must continue some time in the state of boys, or they will never make men worth forming. In the very warmth andTmpetuosity, and consequently the occasional iiTegularities of youth, we often perceive the germ of the most excellent charac- ters. But then these irregularities of youth, by which their minds are stored with a sufficient vanety of strong impressions, must not be continued beyond the season of youth, or that state of peculiar sensibility, in which some- thing still more new shall be able, in a great measure, to lessen the effect of preceding impressions, otherwise habits will be formed which will preclude all farther progress. In a course of time the mind acquires an insensibility to new impressions. A man is then in a manner incapable of extending his views, and thereby he loses the great privilege of his rational nature. His mind for want of an accession of new ideas, or farther knowledge, may even contract, and he may sink into a state approaching that of a brute animal, and one that is old and intractable. This, however, we observe by the way, though we shall have some farther use for the observation hereafter ; our object being to shew, that for the very same reason that a man excels other animals, a believer in divine revelation, and especially a Christian, is superior to other men ; his comprehension of mind being enlarged by such knowledge as revelation bangs him acquainted with, so that he is capable of being much more happy in himself, and of a more generous ardour in promoting the happiness of other.s. Also, being less sensible to present impressions, he will be more drawn out of himself, and be more free from that anxiety and distress to which persons who alttend to themselves only are necessarily subject. It may not be improper to consider as the first great IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION. 15 article of revealed religion, because it is by this means roore strongly impressed upon the mind, though it is also the dictate of nature, to be the doctrine of the being of a God. It so much stands or falls with the belief of reve- lation, that at present they generally go together, and they who are unbelievers in revealed religion, though they may retain the belief of a God, have little motive to attend to the subject, so that they are generally practical, though not absolutely speculative atheists. Now the belief, the habitual and practical belief, of the being of God, a Being infinitely wise, powerful, and good, the Author of universal nature, and the doctrine of a Providence, which is coimected with it, contributes greatly to the enlargement of the mind of man, extending our views beyond what we immediately see and hear around us. Without this, man is comparatively a being of nar- row views, but little advanced beyond the brutes, and has but little motive to attend to any thing beyond himself, and the lowest gratifications. Without this faith he must be liable to be disturbed and unhinged by every cross event. But the belief of a God, and of a Providence, of a Being who created all things, who has assigned to every crpature his proper station, and who superintends the whole chain of events, reheves and enlarges the mind, and also gives us a lively interest in the concerns of others. The idea of a God is that of the father of all his creatures, and especially of all mankind : and this suggests the farther idea, that all men are brethren, the children of one common parent ; and with this idea, are intimately con- nected a thousand other pleasing ideas, and especially a sense of a common interest, and an obbgation to promote it by every means in our power. With this favourable impression, we are prepared to respect, and to love, all mankind, as brethren, and to bear with one another as such. Whereas, without this idea, we feel as so many uncon- nected individuals, turned adrift upon the -wide world, where we must each of us scramble for ourselves as well as we can, and shall seldom think of attending to others, any farther than a regard to our own interest may make it expedient. Thus, by means of faith in the being and providence of God, we are nobly carried out of, and beyond, ourselves, 16 TOUNO MAN a BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. and are led to conceive a generous regard for others ; and by this we lose nothing but a mean selfishness, and with it a tormenting anxiety, which is at the same time the characteristic, and the punishment of, a narrow, contract- ed mind. There is no true well-founded patriotism, that has any other foundation than this. Without this, there will always be room for suspicion and distrust, a suspicion o) private and selfish views, suited to a mind destitute of this great and enlarged principle, of all mankind constituting one family, uflder one great head ; the idea of an univer- sal parent, who regards us all as his children, and who requires that we regard each other in the same pleasing lighl. Without faith in God, and a belief of his universal benevolent providence, men must be liable to be peculiarly distressed and disconcerted at such calamitous events as we are daily subject to. They are evils in themselves, and we do not know to what farther evils they may lead. Even the good that we see is uncertain and unstable, and for any thing that we know, may terminate in evil, which it will thereby only serve to aggravate. In this state of mind all is darkness and confusion, anxiety and dread. But the moment that we begin to consider the world not as a fatherless world, but that there is a principle of wisdom and goodness presiding over all, and believe that nothing can come to pass vnthout the knowledge and intention of this infinite wisdom and goodness, the gloom vanishes, and day-light bursts upon us. For though we be still at a loss to account for particular events, and do not distinctly see their tendency to good, our firm persuasion that good is intended, and will be the result of the whole scheme, is not at all shaken ; and then nothing will remain but a j leasing curiosity with respect to the manner in which th j good will be produced. In the midst of calamity w can, with this persuasion, hve a life of faith, and of joy. Thus does the belief of a God and a Providence contribute to make a man a much greater and happier being than he otherwise could be. It enlarges his views of the system of nature, of which he is a part. It discovers to him his cormexion with, and his interest in, other beings, and other things. It leads him to look backward to the origin of IMPORTANCE OF REtlGlOir. 17 things, and forward to the termination of the great drama, and to believe that it wUl be most glorious and happy. This end will be much farther promoted by the great doctrine of revelation, that this hfe is not the -whole of our existence ; that it is only a state of probation and discipline, calculated to train us up for a future and more glorious Btate after death. How different and how superior a being must this view, properly impressed upon the mind, make a man. It is a difference not easy to describe, but it may be felt. A being of a da3' will have his views, thoughts, and schemes, adapted to a day. To-morrow can not inte- rest him, because he has no interest in it. If he like the Bcenes of the day, to which his existence is confined, his heart must sicken at the idea of any thing beyond it because he is totally excluded from it. What, then, must be the feelings of the man who truly and habitually believes that he is bom for eternity ; that years and ages bear no sensible proportion to the term of his existence ; that the duration of the sun, moon, and stars, is no more than a period that divides his existence, and assists bim in measuring it ; that when they shall be no more, he only, as it were, begins to be, and that other Bims and «ther worlds will be equally short-lived with respect to him. How sublime, and how animating is the thought. Can any thing mean and sordid occupy the breast of a being who is persuaded of this granddestination ? Will he not overlook every thing temporary, and be ever stretching his thoughts to things eternal, in which his interest is infinitely greater than in any thmg here ? We think highly, and justly so, of the advantage which an acquaintance with history gives a man over one who has no knowledge of any events besides those of his own times. We are highly gratified in being made acquainted with the origin, and early history, of the country in which we were born, and of the nation to which we belong. We are sensible that travelling, and seeing other countries, and other customs, and our own, improves and enlarges the mind. It adds to our stock of ideas, and gives us a greater field of contemplation. It is thereby the means of removing local prejudices, and of lessening the influence of all ideas connected with that of self What, then, must it be to be enabled, by the help of revelation, to look so far back as to the origin of the 18 TOCNG man's book OF KNOWLEDGE. ■world, to range through all the successive dispensatione of God to man, to contemplate more especially the pro- mulgation of the gospel, and to look forward to that glorious state of things which is to take place in conse- quence of its universal spread ; to look farther siill to the resurrection of the dead, and the day of final judgment, followed by a never-ending eternity ? What a fund of great thoughts do these great subjects supply, and how scanty must be the furniture of the man's mind, let him be a philosopher, an historian, a statesman, or whatever else the world can make him, or he can make himself, compared with that of the meanest Christian, to whom these great and extensive views of things are fami- liar. The contemplation of such objects as those is sufficient to raise a man above the world, and all the little pursuits and gratifications of it. Will such a man as this bestow much thought on the indulgence of his appetites and pas- sions 1 Will he envy any man the enjoyment of any thing that this world can give him ? or will he have a wish to aggrandize himself or his family in it ? Let us, then, most seriously exhort the young reader to listen with all earnestness to the sacred commands of the great Founder of Christianity. Continue to embrace with the most unshaken firmness, and to maintain with tempe- rate yet unabating zeal, the religion which he descended from heaven to establish in the world. Recollect that the characteristic tenets of that religion are- faith, hope, and charily. Faith does not merely consist in the assent of your judgment to the evidences of Christianity, which are irresistible, but is a pure and lively source of obedience to the divine commands. It is a principle which subdues the pride of human reason, gives to God the glory of our salvation, and to Christ the merit of it. Like a good tree, it may be known by its abimdant and excellent fruits ; it sanctifies all the moral virtues, and renders them, accept- able in the sight of God. — Charity, the bright, the lovely ornament of the Christian character, extends its benign influence to all men, without distinction of country, sect, or opinion ; and in its various relations and comprehensive exercise for the good of all, whom it is in our power to benefit, raises us to a resemblance, as far as human nature will allow, of our Father in heaven. To keep the spirit IMPORTANCE OF RELIOION. 19 of religion warm and operative in your hearts, maintain a hallowed intercourse wiih the Almighty by public and private devotion : to the same end the perusal of the Holy Scriptures will materially contribute. In them you will find that the Saviour of the World has illustrated his precepts by the most pleasing and striking parables, enforced them by the most awful sanctions, and recom- mended them by his own greatest and best of all examples. Thers he unfolds the great mystery of redemption, and communicates the means by which degenerate and fallen man may recover the favour of his oifended Maker. He gives a clear view of the divine superintendence of all human affairs ; and he represents this mortal life, which forms only a part of our existence, as a short period of warfare and trial. He points to the solemn scenes, which open beyond the grave ; the resurrection of the dead, the last judgment, and the impartial distribution of rewards and punishments. He displa3's the completion of the divine mercy and goodness, in the final establishment of perfection and happiness. By makingsuch wonderful and interesting discoveries, let him excite your zeal, and fix your determination to adorn the acquirements of learning and science with the graces of his holy religion, and to dedicate the days of health and of youth to his honour and service. Amid the retirement of study, or the busi- ness of active life, let it be your first care, as it is your duly, and your interest, to recollect, that the great Author and Finisher of j'our faith has placed the rewards of vir- tue beyond the reach of time and death, and promised that eternal happiness to the faith and obedience of man, which can alone fill his capacity for enjoyment, and alone satisfy the ardent desires of his soul. 80 YOUNO man's book of kNOWLBOOE. CHAP. 11. WORKS OF NATURE. Ir is the glorious privilege of man, while other aniniala are confined within the limits which instinct has prescribed, to carry his observations beyond his own imrnediale wants, and to contemplate the universe at large. He extends his enquiries to all the objects which surround him ; exercises his judgment, and informs his understand- ing, by ascertaining their nature, properties, and uses. In the various branches of the mathematics, in the abstract speculations of metaphysics, or in searching the records of history, he is solely intent on the operations of his own mind, or the actions of himself and his fellow-creatures : but in the study of nature, he examines every object pre- sented to his senses, and takes a general survey of the wide and interesting prospects of the creation. The earth he .treads, the ocean he crosses, the air he breathes, the starry heavens on which he gazes, the mines and caverns he explores, all present to him abundant materials for his researches. And, when thus employed, he is engaged in a manner peculiarly suitable to his faculties, since he alone is capable of knowledge, he alone i? distinguished by the power of admiration, and exalted by the faculty of reason. The terraqueous globe presents a mostglorious and sublime prospect, equally worthy of the capacity of man to con- template, and beautiful to his eye to behold. And the treasures of nature, which this prospect comprehends, are so rich and inexhaustible, that they may furnish employ- ment for his greatest diligence, stimulated by the most ardent curiosity, and assisted by the most favourable opportunities. At the same time that she solicits him to follow her, not only into her open walks, but likewise to explore her secret recesses, she fails not to reward him wi.h the purest gratifications of the mind, because at every step he takes, new instances of beauty, variety, and perfection, are unfolded to his view. The study of the works of nature is in itself capable of affording the most refined pleasure, and the most edifying instruction. All the objects 'with which we are surrounded, the smallest as WORKS OF MATURK. 21 well as the greatest, teach us some useful lesson. All of them speak a language directed to man, and to man alone. Their evident tendency to some determined end, marks the designs of a great Creator. The volume of creation contains the objects of arts, science, and philosophy, and is open to the inspection of all the inhabitants of the globe. Nature speaks by her works an universal language, the rudiments of which are peculiarly adapted to the inclina- tion and capacity of the young, whose curiosity may be gratified and excited by turns ; but more profound and extensive enquiries are suitable to the contemplations of persons of every age ; and no subject can be more worthy of their attentive observation. Whoever opens his eyes, and surveys the creation with the least aitention, must perceive a beautiful variety of objects that present themselves to view, and seem to demand his notice. In summer, meadows enamelled with numberless plants and flowers, affording rich pasturage for cattle ; fields waving with different kinds of grain for the use of man ; woods, forests, plains, and mountainSj differently adorned, and ponds, lakes, or winding rivers, varying the charming scene. In winter the forest naked, nature, as it were, suspending her productive power ; the air severe and piercing, the earth frozen, the waters render- ed hard, and capable of bearing men, cattle and carriages ; the falling of the fleecy snow, and aU the circumstances attending this cold rigorous season ; every particular deserves our consideration, and commands inquiry. Look we out at night, when darkness covers and conceals the beauties of our earthly globe, we shall find this temporarj' loss made up to us by those numberless and glorious stars that glitter in the magnificent canopy hanging over us ; and if the moon arises, her mild and friendly rays enlighten the silent scene, and give a fainter day. — In short, whatever the season of the year, whether cheerful spring, warm summer, rich autumn, or cold winter ; what- ever the hour of the day or night, things worthy of our most serious notice are at hand ; things which to know may truly be called learning, and in the study of which an intelligent being may alwa3's employ his leisure hours with pleasure. But some kind of method is necessary, to lead the mind at first into a proper train of inquiry. We will therefore proceed, step by step, first explaining soma 22 vouNO man's book of KNOWLKBOE. of the most common appearances of nature, such as air, water, wind, lain, thunder, &c. then descending into the bowels of the earth, we will give you some knowledge of metals and minerals, such as gold, silver, iron, lead, with many other phenomena, &c. ; then wandering over its surface, we will take a view of the vegetable world, and all its beauties, and from thence we will proceed to the animal creation, and survey the insects, birds, fishes, and beasts, and, lastly, raise our thoughts, and close the whole with some particular inquiries into the nature and powers of man. Sect. I. — Of the Air and Atmosphere. The exterior part of this our habitable world, is the air or atmosphere ; a light thin fluid, or springy Ijody, that, encompasses the solid earth on all sides, and partakes of all its motions, both annual and diurnal. The composition of that part of our atmosphere, pro- perly called air, was till lately but very Uitle known. — Formerly it was supposed to be a simple, homogeneous, and elementary fluid. But the experiments of Dr. Priest- ley, and others, have discovered, that even the purest kind of air, which they call vital or dephlogisticated, is in reality a compound, and might be artificially produced in various ways. This dephlogisticated air, however, is but a small part of the composition of our atmosphere. By accurate 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. Priestloy calls phlogisticated, and M. Lavoisier, in the new chemistry, mephilic air, which cannot be breathed, and in which animals die. Though air seems to be a kind of repository, wherein all the poisonous effluvia aiising from putrid and corrupted matters are lodged ; yet it has a wonderful facihty of purifying itself, and of depositing those vapours contained in it ; so that it never becomes noxious, except in particu- lar places, and for a short time ; the general mass remain- ing upon all occasions pretty much the same. The way in which this purification is effected is different, according WORKS OF NATURB. 28 to the nature of the vapour with which the air is loaded. That which most universally prevails is water ; and from experiments it appears, that the quantity of aqueous vapour contained in the atmosphere is immense. Doctor Halley, from an experiment on the evaporation 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 milUons of tons of water, which is more than it receives from all the nine large rivers that empty themselves into it. Dr. Watson, in his Chemical Essays, has given an account of some experiments made with a view to determine the quantity of water 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 12 hours. From this the air is every moment purified by the ascent of the vapour, which flying off into 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 consequence ascends with greater velocitj', the air during all this time is said to be dry, notwithstanding the vast quantity of aqueous fluid that passes through it. In the physical economy also, another provision is made for the continual renovation of the atmosphere. Plants derive subsistence from the very air that is unfit for animal life, and in return, actually emit that vital or dephlogisti- cated air. upon the enjoyment of which the latter depends. Thus we see a constant circulation of benefits maintamed between the two great provinces of organized nature. The plant purifies what the animal had poisoned ; in return, the contaminated air is more than ordinarily nutntious to the plant. Agitation with water appears to be another of these restoratives. The foulest air shaken in a bottle with water for a sufficient length of lime, recovers a great degree of its purity. Here then again, allowing for the scale upon which nature works, we see the salutary eifecis of storms and tempests. The yesty waves, which confound the heaven and tha sea, are doing 24 TouNO man's book op knowleooe. the very thing which is done in the bottle, and are a per- petual source 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, exhalations, &c., so that it may be considered as a chaos of the particles of all sorts of matter confusedly mingled together. And hence the atmosphere has been considered as a large chemical vessel, in which the matter of all kinds of sublunary bodies is copiously floating ; and thus exposed to the continual action of that immense surface, the sun ; from whence proceed innumerable operations, sublimations, separations, composi- tions, digestions, fermentations, putrefactions, &c. There is, however, one substance, namely, the electrical fluid, which is very distinguishable in the mass of the atmosphere. To measure the absolute quantity of this fluid, either in the atmosphere, or any other substance, is perhaps impossible ; and all that we know on this subject is, that the electric fluid pervades the atmosphere ; that it appears to be more abundant in the superior than the infe- rior regions ; that it seems to be the immediate bond of connection between the atmosphere and the water which is suspended in it ; and that, by its various operations, 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 Ught of the sun ; that it issues from that luminary in the pure state of electricity, that joining particles of our atmosphere, it becomes light, and uniting with the grosser earth, ^re. The evaporation of water 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 deposition of this subtile fluid ; so that there is a circulation in the electric fluid as there is in the water. It descends originally from the sun ; pervades the whole substance of the globe ; and perspiring, as it were, at every pore, ascends beyond the clouds ; and passing the extreme boundaries of our atmosphere, returns to the Bun from whence it came. The uses of the atmosphere are so many and great, that it seems indeed absolutely necessary, not only to the comfort and convenience of men, but even to the esustenc* WORKS OS MATVRB. 2^ of all animal and vegetable life, and to tbe very constitu- tion of all kinds of matter whatever, and witbout ■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 vacuities of bodies, it becomes the great spring of most of the mutations here below, as generation, corruption, dis- solution, &c. and without which none of these operations could be carried on. Without the atmosphere, no animal could exist, or mdeed 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 diough we might perceive the sun and stars like bright specks, we should be in utter darkness, having none of what we call day hght, or even twilight; nor would either fire or heat exist without it. In short, the nature and constitution of all matter would be changed and cease ; wanting this universal bond and constituting principle. As to the weight and pressure of the air, it is evident that the mass (rf the atmosphere, in common with all other matter, must be endowed 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 Gahleo and Taricelli, that we came to the proof, not only that the atmosphere is endued with a pres- sure, but also what the measure and quantity of that pressure is. Thus it is found, that the pressure of the atmosphere sustains a column of quicksilver, in the tube of the barometer, of about thirty inches in height ; it there- fore follows, that the whole pressure of the atmosphere is equal to the weight of a column of quicksilver, of an equal base, and thirty inches in height ; and because a cubical inch of quicksilver is found to weigh nearly half a pound avoirdupoise, therefore the whole thirty inches, or the weight of the atmosphere on every square inch of suiface, IS equal to 15lb. Again, as it has been found that the pressure of the atmosphere balances in the case of pumps, &c. a column of water of about 34^ feet high ; and, the cubical foot of water weighing just 1000 ounces, or 62 lb. 34:f times ea^^-, or 215Slb. will be the weight of the column of water, or the atmosphere, on a base of a square foot, and consequently the 144th part of this, or 151b. is the weight of the atmosphere, on a square inch ; c 8(S YOCNQ man's book or KNOWLEDGE. the same as before. Hence, Mr. Cotes computed that the pressure of this ambient fluid on the whole surface of the earth, is equivalent 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 151b. every square foot will sustain 144 times as much, or 21601b. ; then, if the whole surface of man's body be sup- posed to contain 15 square feet, which is pretty near the truth, he must sustain 15 times 2,160, or 32,4001b, that is, near 14^ tons weight for his ordinary load. By this enormous pressure, we should undoubtedly be crushed in a moment, if all parts of bodies were not filled either with air or s,>me other elastic fluid, the spring of which is just sufficient to counterbalance the weight of the atmosphere. But, whatever this fluid may be, it is certain, that it is just able to counteract the weight of the atmosphere, and no more ; for if any considerable pressure be superadded to that of the air, as by going into deep water, or the like, it is always severely 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 atmo- sphere 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 con- siderable, 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 barometei varies at times from twenty-eight to thirty-one inches, oi about one-tenth of the whole quantity, it follows, that this difference amounts to about a ton and a half on the whole body of a man, which he therefore sustains at one lime more than at another. On the increase of this natural weight, the weather is commonly fine, and we feel our- selves what we call braced, and more alert and £\ciive : but, on the contrary, when the weight of the air diminishes, the weather is bad, and people feel a lisilessness and inactivity about them. And hence it is no wonder, that persons suffer very much in their health, from such changes WORKS Of NATURE. 27 in the atmosphere, especially when they take place very suddenly. The weight of the atmosphere has great influence on a number of physical phenomena. It compresses all bodies, and opposes their dilatation. It is an obstacle to the eva- poration 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 vacuum of the air primp. — The pressure of the air on our bodies preserves the state 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 fiom the pores of the skin, or from the lungs. Various attempts have been made to ascertain the weight to which the atmosphere is extended all round the earth. These commenced soon after it was discovered, by means of the ToricelUan tube, that air is endued with weight and pressure. And had not the air an elastic power, 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 detem;iine its height from its density, and the column of mercury it would counterba- lance in the barometer tube : for, it having been observed, that the weight of the atmosphere 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 11,040 ; there- fore the height of the uniform atmosphere would be 11,040 times 22'- feet, that is, 27,600 feet, or little more than Si- miles. But the air, by its elastic quaUty, expands and con- tracts ; and it being found, by repeated experiments in most nations of Europe, that the spaces it occupies, when compressed by different weights, are reciprocally propor- tional to those 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 atmosphere must grow continually more and more rare, as it ascends higher ; and, indeed that, accordmg to that law, it must neces- sarily be extended to an indefinite height. At the height of 3j- 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- the following table. M YOUNO MAH'S BOOK QV HNOWLKDQi Height in miles. ICumber of limes rarer, St 2 7 4 14 16 21 64 28 256 35 1024 42 4096 49 16384 66 65536 63 262144 70 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 PU a sphere equal in diameter to the orbit of Saturn. Hence we may perceive 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 atmospheres as our earth, they will, at the distances of the planets from one another, be so extremely attenuat- ed, as to give no sensible resistance to the planets in their motion round the sun for many, perhaps hundreds or thousand 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-naechanical experiments con- cerning the air, declares it probable, that the atrno-sphere may be several hundred miles high ; which is easy to be admitted, v/hen we consider what he proves in another part of the 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 weight into at least the 13,679th part of the space it would possess in vamo. But if the same air be condensed by art, the space it would take up when most dilated, to that it possesses when condensed, will be according to the same author's experi- ments, as 650,000 to 1. WORKS OF NATURE. 29 Our direct experiments, however, not reaching to Rny great heights into the regions of the atmosphere, and ntv knowing how far air may be expanded, we are incapabh of determining to what height the atmosphere is actuallj extended. Sect. II.— 0/ the Meteors. We have seen that the atmosphere is a vast laboratory, in which nature operates immense analysis, solutions, pre- cipitations, and combinations ; it is a grand receiver, in which all theat tenuated, volatilized productions of terres- trial bodies are received, mingled, agitated, combined, and separated. Considered in this view, the atmospheric air is a chaos, an indeterminate mixture of mineral, vegeta- ble, and animal effluvia, w^hich the electric fluid is per- vading and traversing continually. The grand changes it experiences, and of which we are sensible in extensive spaces by the appearance of water, hght, or noise, are cal- led meteors. As the state of the atmosphere is ever varjdng, the meteors assume different forms ; som.e delighting us with their appearance, while others wear a terrifying 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 haU ; here mock-suns, mock-moons, halos, and rainbows, make their gaudy but transitory appearance ; and here the water-spout, dreadful to the manner ; here rolls the dread- ful thunder, here lightinings dart their vivid flames, and sometimes striking upon the earth, destroy its pjroductions, fill its habitants with terror, and sometimes strikes them dead ; here the aitrora, or streamers, the ignus fatui, or wandering fires, called also Jack with the lantern ; here falling stars, as they are ignorantly termed, or fiery balls of various sizes, appear with splendour dunng the gloom of night, and astonish mankind, who toooften seem willing with superstitious awe, to find portentous omens of dire calamities in those curious phenomena, rather than inves- tigate their causes, or discover their uses. To account for these various appearances in a satis&o 30 YOUNG man's book OF KSOWLE«GK. tory manner, it is plain that we ougnt to have an intimate acquaintance with the constitution of ihe atmosphere ; with the nature of those powerful agents by which it appears to be principally influenced, viz. fire, light, and electric fluid ; and with fheir peculiar modes of operation and action upon one another, and upon the atmosphere, and this in every possible variety of circumstances. 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 their 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 acquainted with geography, but with mineralogy 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 in this elementary work. As evaporation, however, seems to be particularly concerned in the produc- tion of the meteors, we shall take a view of that operation of nature, the extent of which we have noticed in the preceding section. This process may be reckoned in a particular manner the eflfect of heat. Upon this principle, vapour is shewn to be a compound of water and fire ; and such it is supposed to be by philosophers of the highest rank. In considering this operation, however, as carried on by nature, we shall soon find, that it proceeds in a man- ner 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 without a consider- able 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, shew evidently that they are connected with our atmosphere by means of some other agent besides heat. From this continual ascent of vapour, indeed, if the opera- tions of nature were of the same kind with those of art, the upper parts of our atmosphere would be always involv- ed in a fog, by reason of the condensation of the vast quantity which continually ascends thither ; but so far is WORKS OF NATURE. 31 this from being the case, that in those elevated regions to v/hich the vapours continually ascend, the air is much drier than at the surface of the ground. From many experiments, indeed, it is evident, that vi^ater, after being reduced into a state of vapour, is capable of undergoing a certain change, by which it lays aside its fluidity entirely, and even to appearance its specific gravity: 30 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 enquiries concerning it must, in a great measure, cease ; but as it is not in the immediate product of evaporation that rain has its source, and as vapours change their nature in the atmosphere, so as to be ao longer sensible to the hygrometer, or to the eye, and do not become vapour agam till clouds appear, we must acknowledge it to be very probable, that the intermediate state of vapour, is no other than air ; and that the clouds do not proceed from any distinct fluid in the atmosphere, 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 decom- position of the vapour will be easily accounted for. — If by any natural process the water can be converted into air, and if the latter is only water partially decomposed ; then, "by an inversion of the process, air may be instanly re-con- verted 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 m verted process is carried. It is generally supposed by meteorologists, from all the clouds, fogs, hail, rain, and snow, being electrified, that the electric fluid is the -agent employed in the formation of these meteors, and that it is this fluid which acts in the re-conversion of air into water. This process may be particularly observed in the summer season, 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 in the case when the dissolving power of air is considerable ; 2dly, in a state of incipient separation, in 33 Tovna man's book of knowledge. which case it forms clouds, mists, or fogs ; 3dly and lastly, in a state of actual separation, in which case it forms either rain, properly so called, or snoia, or hail. Clouds are those well-known assemblages 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 boundaries Their height above the surface ni. the earth (we mean not above the mountains) is various, but hardly ever exceeds a mUe, or a mile and a half. In hot weather or hot climates, the clouds, being more rarefied, are lighter, and ascend much higher than they do in colder cUmates, or colder weather : and indeed, in 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 a deposition of water in particles so small as not to be visible singly. The snoiu is formed when the atmosphere is so cold as to freeze the particles of rain as soon as they are formed ; and the adherence of several of those particles 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 ' opportunity of meeting) when the clouds are higher than •when they are lower. The Aaj7 differs from snow in its consisting of much more solid, and much more defined pieces of congealed water. It is supposed that the water, already formed into consider- able drops, is driven and detained a considerable time through a cold region of the atmosphere by the wind, •which almost always accompanies a fall of hail. But the globes of ice, or hail-stones, in a faJl of hail, sometimes far exceed the usual size of the drops of rain ; which shews that, by the action of the wind, congealed particles must be forced to adhere to each other ; and, in fact, though the small hail-stones are more uniformly, solid, and globular, the large ones almost always consist of a harder nucleus, which is surrounded by a softer substance, and sometimes by various distinct pieces of ice, just agglutinated. Their shape is seldom perfectly globular. The phenomena of dew and hoar-Jrosl seem to {proceed WORKS OF NATtlRE. 83 from a quantity of aqueous and undecomposed vapour which always exists in the atmosphere, and which being raised by mere heat, is condensed by mere cold, without undergoing that process by which water is changed 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 tLe ground, in the same manner that the vapour in a warm room congeals on the inside of the windows in a frosty night. Lightning is found to be a flash, produced by the elec- trical fluid rushing from one part into another ; and thunder, the sound of the rusliing torrent, reverberated among the clouds. — The aurora borealis, or northern dawn, is hkewise an electrical phenomenon. It is a lambent or flashing light, seen at night in some periods more often than in others, especially about the poles. — The fiery balls, which are seen shooting through the atmosphere in the night, of various magnitudes and of different forms, seem all to rise li'om inflammable vapours, taking fire from their ferment- ing, or effervescing in the air. The rainboto is one of the most surprising 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 ram or dew proceeds ; it is caused by a re- flection and refiaction of the sun"s rays from the globular particles of rain. The face of this beautiful iris, or bow, is tinged with all the primogenial coloms in their natural order : viz. violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, and red. It always appears in that part of the heavens opposite the Sim. The halos are circles somewhat akin to the rainbow, which appear about the sun and moon, and are sometimes variously coloured. They never appear in a rainy sk}-, but in a rimy and frosty one ; and are formed by the refraction of the ra3's of light, without any reflection, as in the rain-bow. ^lock-suns and mock-moons are representations of the face of the true sun and moon, by reflection'in the clouds. The weight and pressure of the atmospherical air have been explained in the preceding section. We shall now examine the particulars relative to its progressive motion, which v/e denominate wind. 34 rouNG man's book of knowledge. 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 equilibrium 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 motion of all the circum- jacent air towards the part, to restore it : and this motion of the air is what we call wind. Hence, with respect to the 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 bois- terous weather, whirlwinds, and hurricanes ; with rain, tempest, lightning, thunder, &c. Many are the particular causes which produce wind by interrupting the equipoise 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 torrid zone, the air, being more rarefied by a 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 the parts at the equator are most rarefied which are near the sun ; and those parts are, by the earth's diurnal rotation eastward, 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 eastern 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 extreme cold, this heavier air fironi either pole is constantly flowing towards the equator, to restore the balance destroyed by the rarefaction and levity of the air over those regions ; hence, in this respect alone, a constant north and south wind would be generated. WORKS OF NATURE. 35 Now it is easy to understand, that, by a composilion of these two directions of the air from the east and north, a constant north-east wind will he generated in the northern hemisphere, and a constant south-east wind iu the southern hemisphere, to a certain distance on each side the equator, all round the earth. And this case we find to be verified in the general trade winds, which constanly blow firom 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 afiected with the reflection of the sun-beams fiom the heated surface of the land ; for in this case the wind will always set in upon the land, as on the coast of Guinea, and other parts of the torrid zone, we know it does. The temperature of a country, wiih respect to heat or cold, is increased or diminished by winds, according as they come from hotter, or colder parts of the world. The north and north-easterly winds, in England and all the western parts of Europe, are reckoned cold and drying winds. They are cold, because they come from the firozen region of the north pole, or over a great tract of cold land. Their drying quality is derived from their coming principally over land, and from a well-known property of the air, namely, that warm air can dissolve, and keep dissolved, a greater quantity of water than colder air: hence the air which comes from colder regions, being heated over v.armer countries, becomes a better solvent of mois- ture, and dries up with greater energy the moist bodies it comes in contact with ; and, on the other hand, warm air coming 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 healed land, become so very drying, scorching, and suffocating, as to produce dreadful effects. These winds, under the name of solanos, are often felt iu the deserts of Arabia, in the neighbourhood of the Persian gulph, in the interior of Afiica, and in some other places. There are likewise in India, part of China, part of Africa, and elsewhere, other winds, which deposit so much warm moisture as to sofr.en, and actually to dissolve glue, salts, and almost every article which is soluble in water. ' It is impossible to give any adequate account of irregu- 36 TOUNO man's book of KNOWLEOcm-. lar winds, especially of those sudden and violent gusts aa come on at very irregular periods, and generally continue for a short time. They sometimes 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 attri- buted to peculiar rarefactions, to the combined attractions of the sun and moon, to earthquakes, 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 phenomena, such as draughts, 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. In some parts of the Indian ocean, there are winds which blow one way during one half of the year, and then blow the contrary way during the other half of the year. These winds are called monsoons, and owe their origin to causes similar to what have 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 acquires a circular, or rotatory, or screw-like motion, either ascending or descending, 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 lohirhoind, 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 motion whence it endeavours to recede from the axis of the whirl in consequence of which a vacuum, or at least a consider- able rarefaction of air, takes place about the axis, and, when the w^irl takes place at sea, or upon water, the water rises into that rarefied place ; for the same reason wiiich causes it to ascend into the exhausted tube, and Works of nature. 37 forms the water spout, or pillar of water, in the air. The water spouts generally break about their middle, and the falling waters occasion 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 100 miles per hour. The following particulars respecting the velocity, &c. of the wind, are extracted from a table which appeared in the 51st volume of the Philosophical Transactions, by Mr. J. Smeaton, the celebrated engineer. When the velocity of the wind is one mile per hour, it is hardly perceptible. From 2 to 3, just perceptible. 4 — 6, gentle, pleasant wind, or breezes. 10 — 15, pleasant, brisk gale. 20 — 25, very brisk. 30 — 35, high winds. 40 — 45, very high. 60 miles per hour, a storm or tempest. 60 ... a great storm. 80 ... a hurricane. I a hurricane, that tears up trees, * ■ ■ ( carries buUdings before it, &c. The winds are of immense and indispensable use. Besides their more obvious effects in driving of ships, windmills, &c. 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 that diminish thfe heat, and augment the moisture of the torrid zone ; and produce contrary effects on those of the polar regions ; 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- D 3S TOUNO man's book of knowledge. but salutary and pleasing to man and beast, and yielding great variety and abundance of the choice productions of nature. Sect. Ill — Of Springs, Rivers, 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 landscape in the magnificent stream, that in its ample range fertilizes its neighbourhood. Various have been the theories, or rather hypotheses, relating to the origin of springs : but it seems the general opinion of those who have made this branch of natural philosophy their study, that the true prmciples which supply the waters of fountains or springs, are melted snow, rain water, and condensed vapours. The prodigious quantity of vapours raised by the sun's heat, and otherwise, being carrifed by the winds over the low lands to the very ridges of mountains, as the Pyre- nean, the Alps, the Apennine, the Carpathian, in Europe ; the Taurus, the Caucasus, Imaus, and others, in Asia ; Atlas, the Montes Lunae, or mountains of the moon, with other unknown ridges in Africa ; the vapours being com- pelled 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 caverns of the hills, gathers, as in an alembic, 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 springs. 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 again meeting in one common valley, and gaining the plain ground, being grown less rapid, become a river ; and many of these being united in one common channel, make such enormous stieams as the Rhine, the Rhone, and the Danube. And WORKS OF NATURE. 39 it may always 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 rim 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 alter- nations or intermissions. Reciprocating springs, whose waters rise and fall, or flow and ebb, by regular intenals, or reciprocations of 'the surface. If these reservoirs of water, in the bodies of mountains, be situated where mineral ores abound, or the ducts or feeding streams run through mineral earth, it is easy to conceive the particles of metal will mix with, and be absorbed by the water, which, being saturated therewith, becomes a mineral spring or well. If salt, sulph'jr, and hmerstone abound in the strata through which the water passes, it will then be saline, sulphureous, and lime-water. If sulphur and iron should both 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 difierent kinds of springs, we shall say a few words respecting the various phenomena, which take place in rivers. A large collection of water which rims in consequence of its gravity from a higher to a lower part of the surface of the earth, in a channel generally open at top, is called a river. A river which flows uniformly, and preser\'es the same height in the same place, is said to be in a. permanent state ; such rivers are very rare. The water of a nver does not flow with the same velo- city through the whole width of the river. The line in which the water moves \vith 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 nearer to one side than the other, according to the nature of the impedi- ments, and the configuration of the banks. The velocity of rivers is likewise less at the bottom.of their channels 40 TOUNG man's book OF KNOWLEDGE. (han at the 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 inclined 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 coincides 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 everywhere 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 the declivity of those formed by nature, is various and uncertain. The velocity of the water of a river ought to increase in proportion as it recedes from its source : but the numerous causes of retardation, which occur in rivers, are productive of very great irregularities ; and it is impos- sible to form any general rules for determining such irregularities. The unequal quantities of water (arising from rains, from the melting of snow, &c.) which are conveyed by ■jivers at different 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 continually altered by the usual flowing of its waters, and bj' local peculiarities. The water constantly corrodes its bed wherever it runs with considerable velocity, and rubs off the sand, or other not very coherent parts. The corrosion is most remark- able 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 ivater-fall. The sand thus raised is deposited in places 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 overflows the adjacent grounds. In some places we find that an obstacle, or a bent on one side, will occasion a corrosion on the opposite bank, by directing the impetus of the stream towards that bank. Thus, from diver* causes, whose concurrence in dlflFerent WORKS OF NATURE. 4J proportions, and at different times, forms an infinite variety, the velocity of rivers is never steady or uniform. The following curious calculation respecting the river Thames, was made by Dr. Halley. In order to estimate tho quantity 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 alio-sidng the velocity of the water to be at the rate of 2 miles per hour, there will run in 24 hours, the length of 48 miles, or 84,480 yards j therefore 84,480-1-300=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 numbers, extracted fi-om Mr. Rennel's paper.Vlst volume of Philosophical Transactions. European Rivers. Thames 1 Rhine 5^ Danube 7 Wolga 9J Asiatic Rivers. Indus Si- Euphrates Si- Ganges 9i- Burrampooter 9i Non Kian, or Ava River .... 9 , Jennisea 10 Oby lOi Amoor lli Lena 11 ^ Hoanho (of China) 13| Kian Keu (of ditto) 13* African Rivers. Nile 12t Da 42 rouNG man's book of knowledge. American Rivers. Mississippi 8 Amazons 15f When we reflect on the immense length of these rivers, and their origin, we are naturally directed to the contem- plation of the round which water travels ; and by uhich, without suflfering adulteration or waste, it is continually oiFering 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 slate of change or circulati:on. " The sun," saith Solo- mon, " ariset'fl, and the sun goeth down, and pants 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 rivers 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 pro- portion ; but it is probable no more than sufiicient to fertilize the land. The saltness of the sea is a property in that element, which appears to have excited 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 dissolved by the waters, the sea becomes impregnated 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 crea- tures which now live thereip, could then have being ; from WORKS OF NATCRE. 43 hence, also, the sea water hecomes much heavier ; and, therefore ships of greater size and quantity may be used tliereon. Salt water also doth not freeze as soon as fresh water, whence the seas are more free for nangation. The most remarkable 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 sti^ongly attracted, is raised higher than the rest ; and the part opposite to it, on the contrary side, being lenst attracted, is also higher than the rest. And these two opposite rises of the surface of the water in the great ocean, following the motion of the moon from east to west, and striking against the large coasts of the continents that lie in its way, from thence rebounds back again, and so makes floods and ebbs iu 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 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 ebb- ing and flowing continues without intermission. For instance, if the tide be now high water mark, in any port, or harbour, which lies open to the ocean, it will presently 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 former situation ; rising and falling alternately, twice a-day, or in the space of about twenty-four hours. The interval between its flux and reflux is, however, not preciseh' 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 quarters of an hour later ever3- 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 Ije low water at eleven minutes after six in the evening ; and consequently, after two changes more, the time of high water the next day will be about three quarters of an hour after noon ; the day following it wiD be at about half an hour after one ; the day after that at 44 TouNO man's book of knowledge. a quarter past two ; and so on for thirty days ; when it will again be found to be high water at noon, the same as on the day the observation was first made. And this exactly 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 about thirty days, and then begins to rise again at the same time as before. To make the matter still plainer : suppose, at a certain place, it is high water at about three o'clock in the after- noon upon the day of the new moon ; the following day it will be high water at about three quarters 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 observing the tides continually at the same place, they will always be found to follow the same rule ; the time of high water, upon the day of every new moon, being nearly at the same hour ; and three quarters of an hour later every succeeding day. The attraction of the sun also produces a similar rising and falling of the water of the ocean ; but, on account of its distance, 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 conspire with, or counteract each other, in a greater or lesser degree. When they conspire together, the tides rise higher, and their mutual action produces what are called spring tides. On the contrary, Vfhen they counteract each other, they produce neap tides. y^ From a sHght 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 meridian of that place. But this is by no means the case ; it bein'^ usually about three hours afterwards ; the reason of which may be shown as follows: The moon, when she is on the meridian, or nearest to the zenith of any place, tends to raise the waters at that place ; but this" force must evi- dently be exerted for a considerable time, before the greatest elevation will take place ; for, if the moon's attraction were to cease altogether, when she has passed the meridian, yet the motion already communicated to the ■W0KK3 OF h^TUKE. 46 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 every other motion of a fluid, will illustrate this idea ; all such effects being easily explained, from the consideration that a small impulse given to a body in motion, will make it move farther than it would other- wise have done. It is also, upon the same pruiciple, 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 increase made to the heat already imparted. In- stead of its being higher then, when 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 after- wards ; and the intervals between the flux and reflux, must be reckoned from that time, in the same manner as before. The sun being nearer the earth in winter than in sum- mer, is nearer to u in February and October than in March anl September ; and, therefore, the greatest tides happen not till some time after the autumnal equinox, and return a httle before 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 m the ocean. These are the principal phenomena of the tides ; and, where no local circumstances interfere, the theory and firicts will be found to agree. But it must be ob.served, that what has been here said, relates only to such places as lie open to large oceans. In seas and channels, which are more confined, a number of causes occur, which occa- sion considerable deviations from the general rule. Thus, it is high water at Plymouth about the sixth hour ; at the Isle of Wight about the ninth hour ; and at London bridge about the fifteenth hour, after the moon has passed the meridian. And at Batsha, in the kingdom of Tonquin, the ssa ebbs and flows but once a day ; the time of high water being at the setting of the moon, and the time of low water at her rising. There are, also, great variations in the 46 youNO man's book of knowledge. teeight of tides, according to the situation of coasts, or the nature of the straits which they have to pass through. — Thus, the Mediterranean and Baltic seas have very small elevations ;. while, at 'he port of Bristol, the height is sometimes near thirty feet ; and, at St. Male's, it is said to be still greater. Sect IV. — Of Earths, Stones, Metals, Minerals, and other Fossils. Those who observe the disposition of the earth, as it appears in the quarrying or digging of mines, find it generally lying in horizontal layers, or strata of different kinds, liiie the settling of waters. The first layer that presents itself, is most commonly the bed of vegetable earth or mould. With this earth the surface of our globe is generally covered. It is this mould which gives rooting and nourishment to plants, so that they may stand and grow in it, and it is, as it were, the store-house from whence all the living creatures of our world have originally their provisions ; for from thence all the plants have their sus- tenance, and some few animals, and from these all other animals. As this affords to animals and vegetables their support, so the spoils of these, when dead or decayed, return to the dust of the ground, from whence they were formed, and thus keep up an unceasing circulation. The most common disposition of the layers is, that Under the first earth is found gravel or sand ; clay or marl ; then chalk, or coal, marbles, ores, cfcc. This disposition, however, is far from being uniformly continued all over the globe : in different soils the order of these layers vary. It is wonderful the variety of productions which are found in the different parts of our globe. In the crum- bling chalk, the soKd marble, the dusty gravel, and even the depths of the most inland valleys, and on the summits of the highest mountains, we behold the spoils of the ocean, exhibited under the several appearances of petrified fish, beds of shells, and sea plants. The Alps, the Appenines, the Pyrenees, Libanus, Atlas, and Ararat, every mountain of every country under heaven, where search has been made, all conspire in one uniform and universal proof, that WORKS OP NATUKE. 47 the sea has covered their highest summits. If we examine the earth, we shall find the mouse deer, natives of America, buried in Ireland ; elephants, natives of Asia and Africa, buried in the midst of England ; crocodiles, natives of the Nile, in the heart of Germany ; shell-fish, never linown but in the American seas, together with skeletons of whales, in the most inland regions of England ; trees of vast dimensions, with their roots and tops at the bottom of mines, and marl found in regions, where such trees were never known to grow, nay, where it is demonstrably im- ^ possible they could grow. Such are the awful memorials of the great convulsions and revolutions which have taken place in the natural world ; of countries laid under the rolling waves of the ocean : and of lands rising from the midst of the waters, and becoming the habitations of beasts and of men ; so transient and uncertain are all earthly things. The various bodies which are found by digging in the earth, are called /(/ssiY substances ; under which are com- prehended metals, minerals, stones of divers kinds, and sundry bodies that have the texture between earth and stone. These bodies are divided into four different classes by mineralogists, viz. I. Earth and Stones in general ; II. Salts ; III. Inflammables ; and IV. Metals. I. Earth and Stones in general are 1st, mould, the support of vegetables ; 2d, clays, which mixed with water, harden in the fire, into bricks, delf, china, &c ; 3d, calcareous substances, as chalks, marls, Hmestones, marbles, con- vertible by heat into quicklime, and gypsum into ala- baster ; 4th, talcs, which are found m flat, smooth laminae ; 6th, slates also split into laminse : these, with a variety of stones from freestone, or sand, to granite, porphyry, flint, and substances still harder, such as precious stones, are known by various properties, and are accordmgly ap- plied to different purposes ; some, in addition to being serviceable in building, are used as whetstones ; some strike fire with steel ; others are polished to ghiter in the dress of the fair, or decorate the furniture of the opulent ; and otkers, melted by fire, form the transparent glass. Although there seems to be an almost infinite variety of earthy substances scattered on the siurface of this globe. 48 TOUNQ MAX'fS BOOK OF KKOWLEDOE. yet, when we examine them chemically, we find that all the earth and stones which we tread under our feet, and which compose the largest rocks, as well as the numerous different specimens which adorn the cabinets of the cu- rious, are composed of a very few simple or elementary earths, the principal of which are the calcareous, siliceous, argillaceous, magnesia, terra ponderosa, and a few others, which have been discovered lately, but have not been nuch examined. Calcareous earth is found in the shells of fishes, the bones of animals, chalk, limestone, marble, and gypsum : but all calcareous earth is supposed to be of animal origin : and beds of chalk, limestone, or marble, are thought to have been beds of shells formed in the sea, in some pristine state of the earth. SUex, or siliceous earth, is the principal constituent part of a great number of the con.pound earths and stones, forming the immense mass of the sohd nucleus of the globe. It is the base of almost all the scintuiating stones, such as flint, rock crystal, quartz, agate, calcedon, jasper, &c. The sand of rivers, and of the sea shore, chiefly consists of it. ' Argillaceous earth is found in clay, schistus, or slate, and in mica: This species of earth is ductile with water, it then hardens and contracts by heat, so as to be of the greatest use in forming brick, or stones of any required form or size. Terra ponderosa is generally found in two states, viz. united to vitriolic acid, when it is called calk, or to fixed air, when it is called terra ponderosa Esrata. This earth is distinguishable by its great specific gravity, being four times as heavy as water. Magnesia is found sometimes pure in nature, but it is generally obtained by art from some of its combinations. It gives a peculiar character to the substances of which it forms a part. The stones which contain magnesia in con- siderable quantity, have generally a smooth and unctuous feel, a greenish cast, a fibrous obstraited texture, and a silky lustre. Among them we may mention talc, steatite, serpentine, chlorite, abestos, &c. Pure rupignesia does not form with water an adhesive ductile mass. It is in the form of a very white spongy powder and perfectly tasteless. WORKS OP NATURE. 49 Slones are formed by the mixtures of the earths together, and of the mixtures of earths with alkalis, and sometimes with acids. Stones bound together by some cement, form rocks. There is also a kind of stones of a pecuhar nature, produced by the fire of volcanos. The stones in which the acids and alkalis aboimd, are called saline stones, and the mixtures of the earths with ■ aach other, form stones properly so called. Of stones properly so called, those in which the sihceous earth abounds and predominates, are very numerous ; the prin- - cipal of which we shall briefly notice. Sihceous mixtures have sufficient hardness to strike fire srith steel. Of this description are the precious slones, rock crystal, or quartz, felspar, silex^ crysopryse, lapis lazuli, 'asper, and schorl. Gems, or precious stones, are of various kinds. They are distinguished by their hardness, weight, colour,^ and splendour, as well as by their property of producing single or double refractions. As ttieir colour is, of all their characters, the most apparent, it is according to this that we shall divide them. Red gems are the ruby, the vermilion, garnet, a.xidi girasoL The ruby is a transparent stone, the colour of which is more or less red. It is distinguished into four kinds, viz. the oriental ruby, the spinel ruby, the balass ruby, and the Brazilian ruby. YeUoio gems are the topaz, hyacinth, and jargon of Ceylon, Of the topaz, there are three kinds, the oriental topaz, the Brazilian topaz, and the Saxon topaz. Blue gems are the sapphire, and the aigue marine.— There are two kinds of the sapphire, viz. the oriental sap- phire, and the Brazilian. There are also two kinds of the aigue marine, the oriental and the occidental. Green gems are the emerald of Peru and the chrysolite, of which there are two kinds, viz. the Brazilian, and that of the jewellers. The diamond ought certainly to be placed among the precious stones, but it is different from all those above described. Its combustibility is a property entirely pecu- har to itself ; the diamond, indeed, bums in the same man- ner as phosphoius, aud disappears without leaving any vestiges of it behind. The diamond is supposed to be pure carbon, and the radical of the carbonic acid. no rovna man's book or knowledge. There are several varieties of the diamoncl, which differ from each other only in colour ; some are of a rose colour, and others red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and dark coloured. Rock crystal and quartz, seem to be the same stone. — The name of rock crystal is given to that which is crystal- lized, and of quartz to that which is in a rude mass. The form of these crystals is a hexadral prism, terminated at one of its extremities, and sometimes at both, by a summit, composed of six triangular faces. In hardness, they are inferior to all the other gems. Rock crystal consists almost entirely of pure silex. Gluartz enters into the composition of granite. Freestone is of the same nature as quartz. It is granu- lated, being composed of small grains of quartz, cemented together, but which have very little adhesion. Felspar is inferior in hardness to quartz. It fuses by the action of heat, and forms wrfite enamel. It is one of the constituent parts of porcelain. We may mention, under this class, adamantine spar, which approaches near to the preceding in its appearance and fracture, but which differs from them considerably, by its great hardness, its form, and gravitj'. It is, so exceedingly hard, that it may be employed to cut the diamond. Flint is a stone, which is so hard as to strike fire with steel. Among the different kinds of flints, some change their colour according to the directions of the rays of light, and others do not. Of the former there are three, the opal, the cat's-eye, and \h& fish-eye. The kinds of flints which do not change their colour according to their direction of the rays of light, exhibit tints of more or less brightness, and are susceptible of a fine pohsh. We are acquainted with eight kinds of them, viz. common fiint, petro silex, agate, calcedony, cornelian, sar- donyx, the jade, and the prasium. Common fiint possesses very little transparency. All the different kinds of it have a dark dull colour, and are concave or convex, on the fracture. They do not fuse in the fire, but are calcined and become white. The distinguishing character of petro silex is its semi- transparency, similar to that of wax. It becomes white in the fire, like the common flint, but it is more fusible, as il runs without any addition. WORKS OF NATURB. 61 •Agate has a smooth shining fracture, and will take a very high polish : it is much variegated. When exposed to heat, it loses its colour, and becomes opaque, but wilh- out fusing. The calcedony has a milky semi-transparency. Every kind of it takes a fine polish. These stones are while, intermixed sometimes with tints of red, yellow, and blue. The cornelians are all either entirely, or in part, of a beautiful red colour, but they lose their colour in the fire, and become opaque. They are all susceptible of a fine polish. Lapis lazuli is of a beautiful sky-blue colour, sometimes mixed with white, and is entirely opaque. It is sometimes mixed with pyrites, from which it has been supposed that it contained gold. If exposed to a strong heat, it fuses, and forms a sort of whitish glass ; when calcined, it dis- solves in acids into a kind of jelly. Lapis lazuli, when pulverized, forms that valuable colour known under the name of tUtra marine. Jasper is a stone which exhibits every variety of colour. It is exceedingly hard, and receives a very beautiful and durable poUsh. When exposed to the action of heat, it does not fuse. Schorl is a hard stone, fusible in a moderate fire, without any addition. Its crystals exhibit a great variety, in re- gard to form, appearance, texture, structure, &c. Schorl, in general, is opaque ; some kinds, however, are trans- parent, such as the Brazilian emerald, the peridot, the tourmalin, &c. The colour of schorl is various ; some kinds are black, others wiolet, and some green. Schorl enters into the composition of porphyry, serpentine, the ophite, granitell, and granite. The primitive earths form stones, as we have men- tioned, and stones united by cement, form those masses called rocks. We shall notice the six mixtures which are most commonly found in those masses, viz. porphyry, serpentine, ophites, granitell, granite, andjlini. Porphyry is composed of felspar in small fragments, of schorl, and a kind of cement, which unites all the parts, and which, in some measure, forms the base. Porphyry is exceedingly hard and difficult to be cut j it will, how- 52 vouNO man's nooK of knowledge. over, take a fine polish. Some kinds of it are red, and others green. . Serpentine is composed of the same substance as por- phyry. Tlie only difference is, that the felspar is in larger, fragments. The colour of serpentine is various ; some kinds are green, others violet, some yellow, and some black. The ophite is composed of only two substances, viz. black' schorl, known under the name of ancient black basaltes, interspersed with greenish felspar, which forms in it long spots. This stone has considerable hardness. Granitell is also composed of two substances ; black schorl, and white felspar, mixed with some of the green felspar. The only difference, then, between the granitells and the ophites is, that the schorl which enters into the composition of the former, is not of the same kind as that in the latter. Granite is composed of felspar, schorl, and quartz. The colour of granite is various ; it is hard, difficult to be worked, and receives a fine polish. Flint is a hard opaque stone, susceptible of a very beautiful polish. It appears to be composed of concentric strata, and has considerable brilliancy on its fi'acture. — Flints are never found in continued quarries, like the other stones ; they are found detached, and dispersed through- out the fields. When joined by any kind of cement, they form pudding-stones. They become decomposed in the air, for they are found for the most part covered with a crust, of a softer nature than the anterior part. Their colour is exceeding various ; some of them are spotted and variegated vrith veins, others exhibit the resemblance of plumes and even of plants. Volcanic productions are chiefly pumice-stones, lava, and Pumice-stone is real glass, in the form of small greyish, white, and exceedingly brilliant filaments. These filaments alwaj's have vacuities of greater or lesser sizes between them,which occasion great variations in its specific gravity. In general it is lighter than water. Lava is that burning matter which runs down in such prodigious quantities from volcanos, when in a state of (eruption, and often extends to a great distance. ' This WORKS OF NATURE. 53 matter is a semi-vitrified substance, which appears black- ish, on account of its density. Basaltes is blackish and opaque. By the action of heat, it may be converted into glass, of a very beautiful black colour. It often crystallizes in prisms, of three, four, five, six, or seven planes. Of some kinds, such as that known under the name of touchstone, the grain is exceedingly fine. II. Of Salts. — ^The alkalis, acids, and the combinations in which they enter in sufiicient quantities, are calledsa/^s, or saline substances ; for a sahne substance, in its extended chemical sense, means a substance that has some taste, and is soluble in water. These substances, however, do not strictly and exclusively belong to the fossil department, but areobtained alsofrom animal and vegetable substances. They are the most active agents in creation. They give bodies their consistency ; preserve them firom corruption, and render them savoury. Alkalis are distinguishable by their acrid, burning, and umious taste, their causticity, their singular action on the skin, and all animal substances, the quality of changing the blue colour of violets to a green, and evon a greenish yellow, and deliquescency. We are acquainted with three species, potash, soda, and ammonia. The first and second have been called _^ei alkalis, because they melt and grow red in the fire before they become volatile ; the third has been named volatile alkali, from possessing the opposite property. Potash is known by the following characters : — ^It is di-y, solid, white, and very deliquescent, absorbs water with, heat, and a peculiar faint smeU, combines with siliceous earth by fusion, and forms glass. It is frequently fotmd native with hme, and combined with different acids ; but is chiefly obtained from vegetables, in the ashes of which it remains after combustion. Soda, or the mineral alkali, is procured from the ashes of sea-weed, and constitutes the basis of sea salt. It strik- ingly resembles potash in form, causticity, fusibility, deli- quescency, combination with earthy substances, by means e2 64 TOUSG MAK S BOOK OF KNOWLKCOE. of fusion, action on animal substances, &c. so that it was long confounded with it, and might have continued to be so if it did not form very diflferent salts with acids, and yields these acids to potash. Ammonia, or volatile alkali, differs greatly from the two preceding species in its form of gas when dissolved in caloric, in its liquid form when dissolved in water, in its pungent and suffocatmg smell, ils solubility in air, &c. — Ammonia is procured by burning animal substances ; in Egypt, (from whence, as contained in sal ammoniac, we till of late imported it), from camel's dung ; but now from bones by distillation. All a/cids appear to be combinations of oxygen or vital air, with elementary substances. Their taste is sour, as their name imports. They change most of the blue vege- table colours red, and have a tendency to combine with earths, alkalis, and metallic substances. All acids, being compounds of oxygen with different substances, the former principle is the cause of their resemblance and common properties ; the latter, being different in each, may serve to characterize each in parti- cular. For this reason, those matters which are variable in acids, are termed their radicals, acidifiable principles. Thus all acids are combinations of radicals, or acidifiable substances, different in each species, with oxygen, which is the same in all : whence it follows, that their common properties," their characters as acids, depend on oxygen, which is the acidifjdng principle; their particular pro- perties, their specific characters, arise from their radicals. The word acid, indicating the general and identical nature of these substances, forms their generical name, where the particular name of the radical contained in each, may, with propriety, designate each particular acid. Thus sulphur is the radical of the acid we name sulphuric ; phosphorus that of the phosphoric ; carbon that of the carbonic, and so on. Acidifiable radicals may contain diflferent quantities of oxygen, and under this point of view they possess two states of acidity. The first is that, in which they contain the least possible quantity of ox> t^d to render them acid. In this their acidity is commonly weak, and they adhere but feebly to the bases with which they ure capable of ■WORK3 OF NATUBB. 56 forming salts. The modem methodical nomenclature designates this state of combination and acidity, by giving the names of these weak acids the termination of otis. — Thus we say the sulphurous, nitrous, phosphorous, or ascetous acid. The second state of acids is that in v.'hich they contain more oxygen, and in general are completely saturated with it. In this they have all the strength and attraction they are capable of possessing as acids, and the modern nomenclature expresses it by the termination ic. Thus we say the sulphmic, nitric, phosphoric, or ascetic, acid. With regard to the proportion of oxygen united to acidifiable radicals, still greater latitude may be given to the consideration presented above. Each radical may be contemplated in four states : — 1st, Containing very little oxygen, not sufficient to impart to it the nature of an acid, and in this it is nothing more than an oxyd ; such as sul- phur coloured red or brown, by exposure to the air, and a degree of heat inadequate to produce inflammation ; when it is oxyd of sulphur. — 2dly, Containing more oxygen than in the preceding case, and enough to become an acid, though weak ; as in the sulphurous acid. — 3dly, Possess- ing still more oxygen than in the second instance, and having acquired powerful acid properties, such as the sul- phuric acid. — 4thly,Conjoined with a larger dose of oxygea than is necessary to constitute a powerful acid, an acid in ic ; when it is termed an oxygenated acid, or even super- oxygenated. The acids are generally divided into mineral, vegetable, and animal acids, according to the nature of their radicals. Though the first claiss only with propriety claims notice in this place, yet for the information of the reader, we will enumerate those belonging to each of the above classes. The mineral acids at present known, are the sulphuric (formerly called the vitriolic) acid ; the nitric acid, called also aquafortis ; the muriabe or marine acid, called by cirtizans the spirit of salt ; the carbonic acid, formerly called the acid of charcod, (erial acid, or fixed air, &c. the phosphoric acid, which is likewise an animal acid, it being found amongst animal matters as well as among minerals ; the acid of borax ; the fluoric acid, formerly called the acid of spar ; the arsenic acid ; the molybdic acid ; the tungstenic acid ; and the chromic acid. The last four are also called metallic acids. 66 YOUNG Han's book of knowledge. The vegetable acids are the ascetic or vinegar, the acid of tartar, the empyreumatic acid of tartar, the oxalic or acid of sorel, the acid of galls, the citric or lemon acid, the malic or acid of apples, the benzoic or the acid of ben- jamin, the empyreumatic acid of wood, the empyreumatic acid of sugar, the acid of camphor, and the suberic or acid of cork. The animal acids are, the acid of milk, the acid ofaugar of milk, the formic or acid of ants, the prussic acid, viz. the colouring matter of Prussian blue, which is obtained, from dried hlood, hoofs, &c. the sebacic or acid of fat, the bombio or acid of silk- worms, the laccic or the acid of waxy matter, and the zoonic or the acid extracted from animal matter by means of lime. For a more full account of these acids, we refer the reader to various recent publications, written professedly on the subject of chemistry. Acids and alkalis shew strong attractions for each other, and when combined together in such proportion that nei- -tber of them predominates, form neutral sails, substances altogether dissimilar to the elements of which they are composed. The salt in common use, for instance, is formed of mineral acid and alkali; either of which, singly, would be hurtful to.the human body ; and the acid, in particular, would be extremely pernicious. Each acid produces with each of the three alkalis a particular neutral salt. The number of the last may, therefore, be found, by multiplying the number of the acids which we know, by three, the number of the alkalis. III. It^ammables. — Inflammables are sulphur or bitu- mens. These substances are both derived from the spoils (rf- vegetables and animals. Sulphur, known also by the name of brimstone, is a simple combustible substance, which nature frequently presents in a pm-e slate. It is found in the earth in a loose j30wder, or solid ; and either detached, or in veins It is met with in the greatest plenty in the neighbourhood of volcanos, and is deposited as a crust on stones coutigu ous to them. It is also met with in mineral waters, coal WORKS OF NA-CBHE. S7 mines, &c. and also in combinations with most of the metals. The bitumens are naptha, petrol, mineral tar, asphalium, jet, cannel-coal, mineral taUow, pit-coal, amber, &c. JS'aptha is a white or yellowish white substance, fluid as water, feels greasy, has a penetrating smell, and burns with a light flame, leaving scarcely any residuum. Petrol, or petroleum, is a brown semi-transparent sub- stance ; being naptha, thickened, and altered in colour and other respects by the air. jyiineral tar is petrol farther altered by the air, having become of the colour and consistency of pitch. Asphalium, or mineral pitch, is produced by a still farther exsiccation or drying. Jet is a substance of a full black, harder and less brittle than asphalt : and, according to Wiedenman, is a species of coal. Cannel-coal appears to be next to jet, in gradation, of the compound mineral bituminous substances. Mlineral tallow is rarely met with, and imperfectly known. It much resembles tallow. Mineral caoutchoc is a substance much resembUng, in its elastic properties, the substance from which it takes its name. Pit-coal, according to Jkfons. Gensanne and others, is an earth or stone, chiefly of the argillaceous genus, penetrated or impregnated with petrol or asphalt. It has also been supposed to have been formed by vegetables growing in the sea, and by vast forests which have been buried by subsequent revolutions. ■Amber is a bitumen generally of a yellow or brown colour. It is found either under the surface of the ground, among the clay, sand, and iron bog oar, when it is called fossil amber ; or is thrown on the shore by the waters of the sea, and is then called mineral amber. It is tasteless, but when rubbed, it yields a faint odour, and manifests electric powers. IV. Metals. — We are at present acquainted with ttaen- ly-oecific gravity is from 11.352 to 11.445. It is consider- ably ductile, but a little tenacious and hard ; hence it may be extended in thin plates by the hammer, but not drawn into fine wire. It has scarcely any elasticity. Bismuth is a yellowish or reddish-white metal, of a fo- liated firacture, and very brittle, it being even reducible to powder by the hammer. Its specific gravity is from 9.670 to 9.822. It issomewhat harder ihanlead,but more fusible. Nickel is a greyish-white metal, of a specific gravity between 9.000 and 9.333. It is malleable, and very com- pact or firm. Copper is a base metal, of a brownish-red colour ; so- norous, very tenacious, ductile, and malleable ; of a con- siderable compactness, of a moderate hardness and elasli city, and of an hackly fracture. Its specific gravity varies firom 7.788 to 9.000. Arsenic is a brittle metal, and, on the recent fracture, of a mean colour betwixt tin-white and lead grey, but, on exposure to air, it soon turns black and dull. Its specific gravity is 8.310 ; its hardness is somewhat considerable, and seemingly surpassing that of copper; but its ductility is so little, and its brittleness so great, that it is readily converted into powder by the hammer. Of all metals. Iron exhibits the most varieties and devi- ations. Its difference in colour, density, fracture, tenacity, ductility, and degree, of fusibility, are uncommonly great. Soft and malleable iron has a greyish-white colour-a light- grey, fibrous, hackley fracture. Its specific gravity, at a mean rate, is 7,700 ; its hardness is not great, but its mal- leability and tenacity are considerably so ; and it has this characteristic property, not possessed by other species of this metal, that whether cold or ignited, it may be extended, forged and bent, without breaking. WORKS OF NA1UK£. 61 By cast or crude iron, that metal is understood, which is obtained by the first smelting of iron-ores. Such uon is distinguished from ductile iron, by its refusing to be extend- ed and forged by the hammer, whether cold or ignited, by its brittleness, and by its fusing in strong heat in open fire, without addition, whereby it is rendered capable of being cast into moulds. The colour of crude iron is more or less of a pale grey. Steel difiiers both firom the ductile and the crude iron. Its distinguishing property is, that when it is tempered, that is to say, when it is hastily plunged in cold water while ignited to redness, it becomes harder, more brittle, and inflexible ; and that, before, this tempering or harden- ing, it is ductile, whether cold or ignited ; and also, that, after having been hardened, it reassumes its ductihty by a firesh ignition and gradual cooling, without quenching. Its colour is a fight grey, its fracttire finely granular. Cobalt is a base metal, of a lead-grey colour, brittle and hard, and of a specific gravity from 7,000 to 7,700 This metal is rather of difficult fusion. Tin is a base metal, of a white colour, a Uttle more ver- ging to blue than that of silver. It is very soft, pretty malleable and tractable : its compactne.=;s and elasticity are but sfight. When broken or bent, or when compressed between the teeth, it makes a pecuhar crackling noise, which is one of its characteristic properties. The specific gravity of tin is variable from 7,216 to 7,731. Its gravity decreases in the ratio of its purity. Zinc is a white metal, of a radiated texture, changing into the foUated. It is of a middle kind, bet-tteen the mal- leable and brittle metals, and may be extended into thin lan.inae, at least between melaUic cylinders in roUing muis. The specific gravity of this metcil is from 6,S62 to 7 215. AiUimony has a white colour, resembling that of tin, a foliated radiated texture, and is very brittle. Its specific gravity varies from 6,702 to 6,860. In the air it loses little of Its metallic splendour, and it does not rust in the strict sense of the word. Mangantue is a white, hard, brittle metal, whose speci- fic gravity li found to be from 6,853 to 7,000. MolybJena has a pale lead-grey colour, a metallic lustre, and a lameUaieJ fracture; it is very soft, and marks paper 62 YouNO man's book op knowledge. easily, leaving a shining trace. Its specific gravity is between 4,138 and 4,569. Wolfram is a metallic substance, of modern discovery, and of a particular kind, whose calx or oxyd is of a yellow colour, and one of the constituent parts of the fossil called tungsten. Another distinct metallic substance, only a few years since discovered by Klaproth, is the Uranium. The oxyd of uranium has a lemon-yellow colour, is fixed in fire, and infusible when alone. Ignition changes its colour to a brownish-grey. We are likewise indebted to Klaproth for the discovery of the new metal called by him Titanium, or Titanile. It is contained in the mineral called red shoerl as a native oxyd. The colour of the perfect oxyd of titanium is red ; but when kept in violent ignition upon coals, and by a greater degree of disoxydation, it gradually assumes a yellowish, blueish, and blackish hue. Tellurium is a metal of a white colour, like tin, inclining to lead-grey." It is brittle and friable ; possesses a lamellar textiu'e, and considerable metallic lustre : is one of the most easily fusible metals, and exhibits a crystallized sur- face when slowly cooling after fusion. Its specific gravity is 6,115. Chrome is a white metal, inclining to grey, very brittle, and crj'stallizable at an elevated temperature in feathered filaments on the surface. The minerals to be found in England are both curious and useful. Amber, jet, vitriol, and alum, are found in consideraole quantities ; the cannel-coal approaches nearly to the beauiy of jet, and even the common coal for firing is of a superior nature. The Enghsh earth and gravel are of the best quality ; and stones, slates, flags, and other fossils necessary forbuilding, are in great abundance. Tin is another article in which England, from the time of the Phenicians, has always had the pre-eminence. The county of Cornwall alone produces more thanallthe world besides. The lead-ore is richer than in other countries, runs more fluently in the fire, requires less trouble and expence in working, and is, when wrought, very fine and ductile. The black lead, or wadd, found in Cumberland, is a mineral of great use and value in several branches of trade and arts. Copper and iron, are also found in great plenty : and WORKS OF NATURE. 63 several ores of these metals, particularly ia Anglesey, have of late been discovered, and brought into use, which were unknown before the recent chemical improvements. Sect. V. — Of VegetMes or Plants. Next to the earth itself, we may consider those that are maintained on its surface ; which, though they are fasten- ed to it, yet are very distinct from it : and those are the whole tribe of vegetables, or plants. These maybe divided into three sorts, herhs, shrubs, and trees. Herbs are those plants, whose stalks are soft, and have nothing woody in them, as grass, sowthistle, and hemlock. Shrubs and trees have all wood in them ; but with this difference, that shrubs grow not to the height of trees, and usually spread into branches near the surface of the earth ; whereas trees generally shoot up in one great stem or body, and then, at a good distance from the earth, spread into branches ; thus, gooseberries and currants are shrubs ; oaks and cherries, are trees. Numerous are the works which have been written, especially in later times, on the science of botany, and various systems or classifications of plants have, from time to time, been proposed ; but the sexual system of Linnaeus is, at present, generally received. Thus naturalist has drawn a continued analogy between the vegetable econo- my and that of the animal; and has derived aU his classes, orders, and genera, from the number, situation, and pro- portion of the parts of fructification. In twenty-four classes, he has comprehended every known genus and species. In considering a plant with a view to its charac- teristics, or distinguishing features, it is divided by Linnaeus into the following parts, making so many outlines, to which the attention of the botanical observer must be directed : 1. Root ; 2. Trunk ; 3. Leaves ; 4. Props ; 5. Fructification ; 6. Inflorescence. 1. The root consists of two parts, the caudex and the radicula. The caudex, or stump, is the body or knob, of the root, from which the trunk and branches ascend, and the fibrous roots descend ; and is either soUd, bulbous, or tuberous ; soMd, as in trees and other examples ; bulbous, as in tulips, &c. ; tuberous, as in potatos, &c. The rcidicula is the fibrous part of the 64 TOUNQ man's book of knowledob. root branching from the caudex. 2. The trunk, which inchides the branches, is that part which rises immediate- ly from the caudex, in either herbaceous, shrubby, or arbo- rescent ; and admits of several other distinctions, accord- ing to its shape, substance, surface, &c. 3. The leaves are cither simple, as those that adhere to the branch singly ; or compound, as when several expand from one footstalk. Leaves are farther described by various terms, indicative of their form and outline. 4. 'Yhe props, those external parts which strengthen, support, or defend the plants on which they are found, or serve to facihtate some necessary secre- tion ; as, the petiolus, or footstalk of the leaf; the pedun- cuius, or footstalk of the flower ; the stipula, or husk, that is, the small leaves that generally surround the stalk at its divisions ; cirrhis, or tendril", ihepuhes, or down ; the arma, ox defensive weapon, as thorns. 6. The fructifications, or mode Tjf fruit-bearing. 6. The inflorescence, or mode by which the flowers are joined to the several peduncles. In plants there is an infinite diversity ; some require a long succession of ages to bring them to perfection, while o'hers attain their full maturity in a few hours ; some are of immense magnitude, while others are of an inferior sta- ture, descending by gradation till they become too minute to be cognizable by the senses. The mighty baobob of Senegal, described by Adanson, whose stem is 75 feet in circumference, stands a stately monument on the face of the earth for inany thousands of years ; while the mush- room, which it much resembles in form, springs up in a day, perfects its seeds, and is withered to-morrow ; and when we carry our views still farther, into that immense profound of minuteness which has but of late been partly laid open to us by the invention of the microscope — into the class of mosses, which are in somemeasure cognizable by the naked eye — and still farther, into the more minute class of plants denominated mould, v/hich, even in those of the largest species, are too small to have their parts cog- nizable by the naked eye, and which, when viewed by the best microscopes, discover a series of existences diminish- ing by a regular gradation, hke stars in the galaxy under the best telescopes, till they are lost in the infinity of mi- nuteness, leaving every reason to believe, that, could the magnifying powers of our instruments be augmented a thousand fold, we should still find ourselves as far froin WORKS OF NATURE. 65 discoveiwg the termination of this series of infinite dimi- nution, as we were at the commencement of our imperfect survey. The world that we see, therefore, seems to be but a very small part of that which exists ; our feeble op- tics are capable of taking in scarcely a point of that uni- verse which surrounds us ; and our perfect understandings can scarcely obtam a glimpse of that infinite power and wisdom which regulates the whole. Among this infinity of objects, however, we can clearly perceive the most per- fect regularity and order pervading every part ; and that all the operations of nature proceed with invariable steadi- ness to effect the purposes for which they have been designed. Thus we see that ail animate objects, firom the largest that has been discovered on this globe, to the smallest that can ever be made to be perceptible to us, invariably proceed from other animated objects of the same kind, although they appear at times under such disguised forms, as not to be at first sight cognizable by us. This rule applies to vegetables as well as animals. The plant of mould, which, even when it hath attained its full stature, can scarcely be perceived as a point under our microscopes of the highest magnifying power, we have every reason to be satisfied, produces its seeds in as regular order, ■which ripen at iheir appointed period, with the same regu- larity as those of the mighty baobob ; but while this remains a stately monument upon the surface of this eeinh, and sees thousands of generations of men succeed each other, and successively shelter themselves under the pro- tecting shade of its spreading branches, we observe the mould spring up, perfect its seeds, scatter them in imper- ceptible myriads in the air, and disappear within the short space of one hour : so that during the short period of our existence here, many myriads of generations of mould have succeeded each other. Time itself, then, when the universe is viewed as a whole, can only be considered as a relative object. Shall man, then, a being v.ho cannot comprehend fully the nature of a single object around him, dare proudly to lift up his face, and pretend to decide concerning possibilities and the powers of nature ! His proper province is to be humble, and adore I The plants with which we are best acquainted, may be acranged into three grand divisions. The first are those r2 66 voUNa man's book of knowledge. whose roots and stems remain for many years, which comprehends all the varieties of trees and shrubs. These, for the most part, require several years to bring them to a state of puberty (if that phrase may be admitted), when they begin to put forth flowers, and perfect their seeds ; after which time they usually continue t(3 produce an an- nual crop of flowers and seeds for a long period of time ; the fruit in general succeeding the flowers, and perfecting their seeds in the same year : but to this rule there are several exceptions. In a few instances, the seeds do not attain to maturity in the same season that the flower is produced ; but, continuing upon the tree the whole winter in an immature state, without being Idlled, they advance in the second season, and then only perfect their seeds ; instances of which are to be found, in the juniper and orange-tree. Others continue to advance for several years, as usual, without showing fruit ; and when at length they reach that state of maturity, they then flower, and, having perfected their seeds, they decay, and flower no more, dying away like annual plants ; an example of which is to be found in the cabbage-tree of tropical regions. Some are scarcely ever (perhaps never) known to produce either flowers or seeds of any sort, but admit of being pro- pagated by some other means ; instances of which are to be found in the English elm, the jack or bread-fruit tree of India, and many others. The second division of plants are those that have a pe- rennial root, from which stalks are sent forth annually, which usually produce flowers, perfect their seeds in the summer, and die down to the ground at the approach of winter. The stems of these are for the most part of a similar structure and consistence with those of The third class, or annuals, from the seeds of which, if sown in the spring, stalks spring up, which produce flowers and seeds the same season ; after the perfecting of which, the stalks decay and die entirely away. Bien- nials can only be viewed as a diversity of these that have not sufficient length of season to bring them to perfection in one year. Whether distinctions, similar to these, take place among those minute tribes of plants which we call microscopical, it exceeds our power at present to determine. From the •hort period of their existence, we have been generally 68 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. regular figures which the imagination can conceive. The lines which form the texture of fir-trees, are distant ; but those of oak, are remarkably distinct, close, and compact. And this difference of textiire may serve to account for their greater or less solidity, and the difference of time requisite for them to arrive at maturity. The nourishment of plants is performed chiefly by the tender fibres of the roots, which being spread under ground, imbibe from the moist earth juice fit for their nutri- ment, which they transmit to the other parts. The impulse by which the juices rise, seems to be capillary attraction ; for the roots of all vegetables are supposed to be but bundles of capillary tubes : and whether we con- sider 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 decomposed into fixed 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 but httle doubt but their attraction sup- plies 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 around the tubes irritated to contraction by the stimulant sap, &c. The interior bark conducts the nou- rishment supplied by the earth. After the sap has thus ascended to the leaves, it there undergoes certain alterations, and is converted into another fluid, called the succus proprius, 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 stomach and lungs of animals. The leaves consequently are not mere ornaments ; they are the most important parts of the plant. Accordingly we find, that whenever 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 ripening, but decays and dries up. Leaves on one side draw nutriment fi'om the air. and WORKS OF NATURE. 69 perspire on the other ;- for plants as well as animals, per- spire, and, in both cases, this function is essential to health. The quantity they perspire 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 are the greatest part of the surface, and it is found that the quantity of these very materially affect the quantity of perspiration ; and this process is increased or diminished, chiefly, in proportion to the increase or diminution of the foliage of vegetables. The degree of heat in which the plant is kept, also varies the quantity of matter perspired ; thus being greater, in pror portion to the greater heat of the surrounding atmosphere. The degree of light has likewise considerable influence in this respect ; for plants uniformly perspire most in the forenoon, though the temperature of the air, in which they ^re placed, should be unvaried. 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 vegetables is increased in proportion as the atmosphere is dry, or, in other words, diminished in proportion as the atmosphere is humid. The more vigorous and healthy the plant, the more copious the perspiration ; this function, like the rest, depending much on the vital energy. Ex- cessive perspiration seems to hurt, and even sometimes to destroy, vegetables ; defective perspiration is equally iuju- riotis. It is also found, that this function is perfonned. chiefly, if not altogether, by the leaves and young shoots. That it may be properly carried on, all leaves are decidu- ous; in those trees called ever-greens, there being a constant succession of leaves, to prevent the organ of perspiration from becoming rigid. A quantity of moisture is absorbed by plants, when exposed to a humid atmosphere. This absorption, as well as the perspiration, is performed by the leaves ; but in Avhat manner has not yet been ascertained. Experiments made by M. Guettard, show that perspiration is more consider- able 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 accurate calculation, and repeated experiments,. TO TouNG man's book of kno-wledoe. '.hat a plant of the sun-flower receives and perspires, in twenty-four hours, seventeen times more than a man. Some botanists have conceived, that plants, as well as animals, have a regular circulation of their fluids. Others think this very improbable. On both sides, recourse has been had to experiments, and from these conclusions, perfectly opposite, 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 darkness, 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 co- lour ; their taste and odour are derived from the same source. Hence it happens that hot climates are the native countries of perfumes, odoriferous 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 ; whereas, on the con trary, when in the shade, and at night, they emit air of a noxious quality. The various secretions of vegetables, as of odour, fruit, gum, resin, wax, honey, &c. seem brought about in the same manner as in the glands of animals ; the tasteless moisture of the earth is converted 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 of vege- tables is excited into action by the fluids applied to their mouths, like the lacteals and lymphatics of animals. The individuals of the vegetable world may be consi- dered as inferior or less perfect animals ; a tree is a congeries of many living buds, and in this respect resembles the branches of coralline, which are a congeries of a multitude of animals. Each of these buds of a tree has its proper leaves or petals of lungs, produces its viviparous or its oviparous offspring 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 hving part of the stem, is annually renewed, and is superinduced upon the former bark, which then dies, uid with its stagnated juices gradually hardening into WORKS or NATCRB. 71 ■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 her in her simple state, and native majesty. He remarks some of her productions disfigured by cultivation in gardens, where, amid all the varieties of the apple and the peeir, however distinguished by their colour, size, and taste, he observes, that there is but one original species of each, and that they have respectively but one radical cha- racter. He beholds the wonderful prodigality of nature, even in the composition of the common daisy, which con- sists of more than two hundred flowers, 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 commonly conveys only one notion to the vulgar mind, and one object to the imdisceming eye, consists of five hundred different species, each formed with infinite beauty and variety. From others he particularly distinguishes the elegant briza media, so common in the fields, and so remarkable for its delicate hair-like stem, trembling at every breeze ; the anihoxanihum odoraium, which gives its firagrance to the new -mown hay ; and the siipa pcnnata with its waving plumes resembling the feathers of the bird of paradise. The botanist enjoys a pleasing, an innocent amusement, most agreeably com- bined with a love of rural retirement, and which gives a new and growing interest to every walk and ride, in the most dehghtful 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 attention and deight him. The number of species of plants already known is about twenty-five thousand : and botanists suppose that double that number, at least, remain to be discovered. The different vegetables productions are no less useful than numerous. The purposes to which the trees of Bri- tain are applieo. are well known, from the flexible willow, which forms tne casket, to the hardy oak, which composes the most substantial parts of a diip of war, guards the f2 TOUNQ MAN'a BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. 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 unpleasant, have their use ; even the thistle is not only ihe 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 bare- berries to the horse. The uphorbia, or spurge, so noxious to man, is greedily devoured by some of the insect tribes. The aloe is a magazine of provisons and of implements to the Indians, who inhabit the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi. Some plants, as rhubarb and opium, alleviate the tortures of pain : and some, as the quinquina, or Peru- vian bark, can subdue the rage of a burning fever. Wheat, the delicious and prolific grain, which gives to the inhabi- tants of the northern world their wholesome nutriment, grows in almost every climate. Where excessive heat, or other causes, prevent it from coming to perfection, 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 vernal season brings forth various kinds of grass ; and this spon- taneous and most abundant of all vegetable productions requfares only the labour of the husbandman to collect its harvest. The iron-wood, sohd as marble, furnishes the O'.ahetian 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 answers many of the mo.st useful purposes of life to the natives of a warm climate. Its bark is manufactured into cordage and cloth* ing, and its shell into useful vessels ; its kernel affords a pleasant and nutritive food, and its milk a cooling bever- age ; its leaves are used for covering houses, and are worked into baskets ; and its boughs are of service to make props and rafters. The rain-deer of the Laplander, 60 essential to his support and subsistence, could not WOEKS OF NATURE. 73 survive through the tedious winter, -without the lichen rangiferinus, which he digs from beneath the snow. On the bleak mountains of the north, the pine, the fir, the cedar, and many of the resinous trees grow, which shelter man from the snows by the closeness of their foliage, and furnish him in winter with torches and fuel for his fireside. The leaves of those evergreen trees are fiUiform, and thus are adapted to reverberating the heat, and resisting the violent winds which beat on elevated situations. — ^All these productions, and the various trees which produce cork and emit resia, turpentine, pitch, gums, and balsam, either supply some constant necessity, obviate some inconvenience, or contribute to some use or gratification of the natives of the soils where they grow, or of the inhabitants of distant cUmates. Sect. VI. — Of £.nimals. 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 formed, and for whose repast or use the whole of its unintelligent pro- ductions appear to have been brought forth ; these are the animated tenants of our globe. ^Vhen we compare animals and vegetables together, each in their most perfect state, nothing can be easier than to distinguish them. The plant is confined to a particulEur spot, and exhibits no mark of consciousness or intelligence : the animal, on the contrary, can remove at pleeisure from one place to another, is possessed of consciousness, and a high degree of intelligence. But, on approaching the contiguous extremities of the animal and vegetable king- dom, these striking differences gradually disappear, the objects acquire a greater degree of resemblance, and at last approach each other so nearly, that it is scarcely pos- sible to decide whether some of those species, which are situated on the very boundary, belong to the Emimal or vegetable kingdom. Indeed we find the vegetable, animal, and mineral kingdoms so. closely connected, like the links of a chain, that there is no possibihty of finding a disjunc- tion in any part, nor saying with precision where the one ends and the other begins, so nearly do they approach each other in the extremes of each class. V4 IrOUNG man's book OT itSOtVLEDOE, The term animal, in a general sense, is applied to etery thing; that is supposed to be alive to the sensations of jiain and pleasure. Under the name of animal, therefore, are Included men, quadrupeds, birds, fishes, reptiles, and in- gects. Animal hterally means a living thing ; but plants live. Linnaeus has formed a climax of the grand depart- ments of creation. Stones grow ; vegetables grow and Eve : animals grow, live, and feel. Various are the corporeal forms, atid great are the peculiarities of organization of the different animals Which mhabit the globo : afid equally various are their intellec- tual powers ; beginning with man, who forms the highest link in the chain, and descending by an almost impercep- tible diminution of mental powers, through an innumerable series of existence, and ending at last in mere animation alone, with a seeming privation of all mental perception whatever. As an animal, man is strikingly distinguishable from the rest of the creatures of the earth, oh account of the ingenuity with which he employs the productions of natur6 for his accommodation and comfort. He is also particularly 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 experience and reflec- tion. When an infant comes into the world, it is the most helpless 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 it attempt to screen itself when the lion's mouth is opened to devour it. The voice of the mother is not understood for many weeks ; and it is but by slow degrees that it acquires knowledge, in consequence of the gradual devc- lopement of its reasoning 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 days of its life, seems to have made nearly the whole mental acquirements it is ever capable of attain- ing : 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 religion, then, WORKS OP NATURE. 76 is tha characteristic peculiarity which decisively marks a separation between man and all other animals. But as the understanding of man, and the structure of his frame, will occupy the following sections, we will in this confine ourselves to a view of the other parts of ani- mated nature. Animals, like vegetables, differ" in their sizes and pow- ers, with respect to the p^ces of their growth. Those' produecd in a dry sunny soil, are strong and vigorous, though not luxuriant : those again produced in a warm and moist cUmate, are luxuriant and tender, and much larger than those produced in other countries ; as in the internal parts of South America and Africa, particularly in the former place, where the earth-worm is near a yard long, and an inch thick ; the serpents sometimes forty feet in length ; the bats as large as rabbits ; toads bigger than ducks ; and 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 considerably according to their food or climate ; and there are but few of the ani- mal kingdom, (and these are they that are the most useful) which are found capable of attending man in his pere- giTiiations over the globe. In uncultivated nature, the animal kingdom exceeds the vegetable ; but, in a state of improvement, the interest of man, so directs it, that the vegetable kingdom should gain the Etscendancy ; for, on a review of the animal aud vegetable world, we find but few animals which are intrinsically serviceable to man : while, on the other hand, numbers of them are noxious to his food, and inveterate enemies to his interest. Bui 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 always has, and will rsmain to be, the interest of man, to diminish the number of animals, and increase that of vegetables ; aad in assist- ance to his endeavours. Providence has wisely ordei-ed it that one animal shall subsist on another ; for were they to live entirely on vegetables, myriads would soon become extinct for want of support. The number of aoimals, which axe immediately service- 76 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. able to man, (exclusive of the smaller, among the birds find fishes, •which serve for food) does not extend to one hundred ; while we are acquainted with no less than twenty thousand ; and even this great number compre- hends but a small portion of animated nature. Not only the earth, air, and sea, teem with myriads of living crea- tures, but also every vegetable, and each single leaf, is 'covered with an endless number of inhabitants, whose various forms and properties have afforded matter of asto- nishment to the microscopic observer. Animals are nourished by food, taken in at the mouth, digested in the stomach, and thence, by fit vessels, distri- buted over the whole body ; but of the process by which the various vegetable productions, which form the food of a large portion 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, end feeling. These, and the way«f nourishment of animals, we shall more particularly consider, as they are common to man with beasts, in the following section. Animals are generally divided into male and female, and Eome are both male and female, and are called hermaphro- dites, as the earth-worm, and some others. With regard 10 their manner of propagation, they are divided into ovi- ; arous, bringing forth eggs ; and viviparous, bringing forth their young alive. Linnaeus divides animals according to their internal structure. Some have their 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 follow- ing seven orders : The Primates or Principals, which have four cutting teeth in each jaw ; the Bruise or Brutes, WORKS OF NATURE Tf which have no cutting teeth ; the Ferse or Wild Beasts, which have generally six cutting teeth in each jaw ; the Glires, or Dormice, which have two cutting teeth both above and below ; the Pecora, or Cattle, \vhich have no cutting teeth above, and six or eight below ; the Bulluae, or Beasts, properly so called, with the fore teeth blunt ; and the Cetae, or those of the Whale kind, which have cartilaginous teeth. This is the brief outhne 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 foUowing classes : Gluadrupeds, birds, fishes, insects, and amphibious animals ; though it must be confessed that this distribution is not exactly defined by nature ; as there are many animals whose forms and qualities render it difficult to reduce them to any one of these classes. I. Quadrupeds. — Quadrupeds are a large and useful class of animeils, whose generic characters are these ; their bodies are covered with hair ; they have four feet ; they are viviparous ; and the females suckle their young. Quadrupeds are the most important creatiires to man, and deserve his attention 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 siviparoiis : 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 structure of some of the ape kind, so nearly resembles that of the hun.an kind, that anatomists can scarcely discover where the pecu- liarity exists. Though the characters of quadrupeds are so obvious, yet as all the parts of nature are united together to form one grand whole, there are several species, which seem to be of an equivocaJ nature, and which form the links vmiting different animals together ; as the bat and porcupine, the former of which possesses wings, and the latter quills, like birds ; the armadillo is covered with a hard shell, by which 78 vouNo man's book or knowledge. 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, ate wisely adapted by Providence to their respective situations and natures. Those which turn up the ground in pursuit of their food, have sharp snouts ; others, which require a keener scent, as dogs, particularly those of the chace, have long noses, whereby the olfactory nerves are more perfect ; while others, of a rapacious nature, have short thick noses, whereby their jaws have a greater muscular 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 enable them to hold down their heads to the ground ; the fore teeth of these animals are also edged, for the purpose of cutting their food ; but those of car- nivorous animals are sharp, and serve rather as weapons of offence. Tn both, however, the surfaces of the grinding teeth are unequal and jagged, locking into each other when the jaws are brought into contact. The stomach of carnivorous animals is also small and glandular ; and affords such juices as are best adapted to digest and-mace- rate 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 capable of great dilation ,; whereas carnivorous crea- tures 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 formed for pursuit nor flight, as the elephant, rhinoceros, sea-horse, &c. have thick massy legs to support their unwieldy bodies. While deer, hares, and other creatures, whose safety depends on flight, and who are beset by numberless enemies, have long, slender, but muscular legs. Those formed for a life of rapacity, have their feet armed with sharp claws, which in some species are retractile, as those of the cat ; and, on the contrary, peaceful animals are generally furnished with hoofs, which often serve as weapons of defence ; and the feet of those which subsist on fish, have membranes between the toes, the better to enable them to pursue their prey in the watery element. WORKS OF NATUaS. 1% The leurger species of quadrupeds are, in general, the mos; harmless and inoffensive ; and, eis if sensible of their own innocence, they possess the most courage ; while the more rapacious animals are inferior to those in size, and also m courage ; and, except the dog, there is no carnivo- rous quadruped that will voluntarily attack another animal when the odds are against him. Thus nature has furnished the most inoffensive animals with superior sizeandstrength; aud opposed to them the carnivorous kinds, which possess more cunning and agility, whereby an equilibrium is pre- served between the numbers of the different kinds. The carnivorous animals are in general 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 hideous yell of the tiger ; the barking of the jackal ; the dismal cry of the hyeena ; and the hiss- ing 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 encourag- ing each other by their cries, as the jackal, sygush, wolf, and dog. Carnivorous animals will sometimes devour the lesser rapacious species ; but they generally prefer 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 pur- suers by flight ; others, again, unite for their mutual defence, and gain by numbers what they want individually in strength ; and, lastly, others avoid their enemies, by placing some of 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 invariably punished by the rest. II. Birds. — ^Birds, next to quadrupeds, seem to demand our attention. The generic characters of this clas of ani- znals are these ; the body is covered with feathers, and furnished with two legs, two wings, and a hard homy bill ; and the females are oviparous. Birds are infinitely more numerous in their different kinds than quadrupeds ; but still leas so than fishes.— 80 TOUNO man's book of knowledge. They seem designed by Providence for a solitary life j 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 reptile nature, by an serial escape, for which all parts of their bodies seem admirably adapted ; the external part of the body being sharp before, ^welling gradually, and terminating in a large spreading tail, which renders it buoyant, while the forepart cleaves the air. The clothing of these animals is exactly suited to their manner of Ufe. The feathers 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 consists of thin little laminae, disposed in regular lines and perfectly even at their edges. The shaft of each feather is formed of a thin hollow tube, which answers the purposes of strength and hghtness ; the upper part being filled with soft pith, to afford nourishment to the beards. They are so placed, that the largest and strongest, as 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 entire, but light smooth surface, ^irds are also furnished with certain glands upon their rumps, which con- tain a quantity of oil, which they press out with their beaks, 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 common 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 object in their way, and be unable to discover their proper food at a distance. The kite darts on its prey firom the greatest heights to which it ascends; and the hawk will discover a lark at a distance too great for )iuman perception. WORKS OP NATURK. 81 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 branches of trees. Birds with long legs, have also long necks, to enable them to pick up their food ; but some aquatic birds, as 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 performed, and then carried away with the other excre- ments, 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 ejection of the fluid excrement. The greater number of birds pair at the approach of spring ; and the compact entered into, is inviolably observ- ed, for that season at least ; but some species enter into this connection for years, and even for life. AH 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 live animals. Every bird builds its nest in such a manner, and with such mate- rials, as best answer its own purpose and situation ; thus the wren, which lays a great number of eggs, requires a very warm nest, as her body is not sufficiently large to cover the whole of them ; but the crow and eagle are leas solicitous in the warmth of the 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 climate, lines its nest with more care and warmer materials than in a warmer climate. The male likewise of most birds, during the season of incubation, supplies the place of the female, in her absence &om 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 vigorous and strong than such as have been delayed till the middle of summer. The number of eggs which a bird will lay cannot be exactly ascertained - but it is well known that a female bird, which would have laid but two or three eggs at most, will, on her eggs being removed, lay above ten or a dozen. A common hen, if 82 YOtUfQ man's book or KNOWLEDGE. properly fed, will produce above a hundred eggs, from tht beginning of spring, to the end of autumn. Nature has wisely ordered it, that the smallest and weakest birds, and, in general, all those which are 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 twenty ; 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-calf, alliga- tor, &c. Numbers of insects, particularly the fly kind, appear to be amphibious ; gnats always drop their eggs in water, where the young are hatched, and live after the maner of fishes ; till at length they undergo a metamorphosis, take wing, quit their natural element, and become inhabitants of the air. IV. Fishes. — Fishes are a class of creatures that appear both in structure and sagacity quite inferior to other ani- mals ; 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 continued 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 convenient for their passage through the watery 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. WORKS OF NATDBB 83 The instruments of motion in these animals are the fins ; of which the general complement is two pair, and three single fins ; though some fishes possess more, and many less than this number. The 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 a fish, and prevent the head from sinking, 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 rise or depress the body of the ani- mal, 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 velocity. The fin is very large in all the fish ; the pectoral fins of which are proportionably less. The anal fin extends from the anus to the tail, and serves to keep the body of the animal upright, or in a vertical direction. In some fishes, as before observed, the tail is horizontal, and in others perpendicular. Thus equipped, these animals have the most rapid motions ; and perform voyages of upwards of a thousand leagues in one season. Fish are also furnished with a sUmy glutinous matter, which overspreads the whole body, and defends them firom the corrosive quaUty of the water. Beneath this matter, some have a strong covering of scales, which, like a coat of armour, protects the body firom injuries. Beneath which, again, there is an oily substance which suppUes the animal with the necessary warmth and vigour. Fishes possess most of the senses, in an inferior degree, to land animals. Their sense of smelling (though furnished with nostrils) is less perfect than that 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 firom the action of the fluid, tinctured with the odour of the object upon the olfactory nerves within, in the same man- ner as the palates of other animals 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 organ is very soft and pliant. From this iadisGiimiaation, fiah wiU 84 TOUNG man's book of knowledge. frequently swallow the plummet, as well as the bait. — Their sense of hearing is still more defective, if they pos» Bess this faculty 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 animals. They are totally destitute of eye-lids ; the eyes being covered with the same skin that overspreads, the rest of the body. The period to which fishes live, is very 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 discovering 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 com- putation, appeared to be a hundred years old, allowing one year for every covering of the scales ; the skate and ray, like other fish which have no scales, have their ages dis- covered by separating the joints of the back bone, and then examining the number of rings which the surface exhibited where it was 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 criterions, enable us to make a near approximation to the truth. The greatest singularity in fishes, is their amazing fecim- dity. Some are viviparous, and others oviparous; the latter I»'oduce 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 other fish, and even of their own species, not excepting the parent itself which exuded them, while they continue in their egg state; con- sequently but very few of these eggs produce live animals, though produced in such considerable numbers. A single cod will produce above nine millions of eggs in one season; and many other fish have as proportionable an increase. V. Insects. — Insects and animals of the 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 WORKS OF NATURE. S6 with a sort of bony substance instead of skin, and their heads furnished with antennse or horns. An insect may more particularly be defined a small animal without red blood (this matter being white and cold), bones, or carti- lages; furnished with a trunk, or else a mouth, which opens lengthways, contrary to the natural order ; 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 description. 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 fi'uitless attempt ; but to give the history of every species of insect would be utterly impracticable, so various are they in their forms, sizes, habitudes, methods of propagation, and manners, smd duration of life. A general division of them, however, according to their most apparent external differences 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 wings, 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 Eves. Theseare all oviparous, except the flea and ihewoodlouse; and properly constitute the first division of insects. 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 concealed ; 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; which have all four wings each, covered with a mealy substance of various colours, which easily rubs ofi^, and when examined by the microscope appears to be elegant scales. These insects have a peculiar method of propagation ; they are oviparous, and, when first hatched from the egg, are perfect caterpillars, which often shed their skins, and, after having divested themselves of their skins for the last time, assume new coverings called H 86 YOUNG man's book op knowledge. chrysalids, in.which state they continue till they come forth in their perfect winged forms. The fourth division include those winged insects which originate from worms, and not from caterpillars, like the former, though they undergo similar transformations. 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 butterfly kind, in being desti- tute of those scales with which these are furnished. This class includes all the numerous class of flies, gnats, beetles, bees, &c. The fifth and last class of insects, contain those which naturalists have termed zoophytes, and are distinguished by their peculiar mode of propagation, so different from the ordinary course of nature. They may be 'multiplied by dissection ; and some of them, though cut in a hundred pieces, will still retain the vital principle in each separate part, each part shortly becoming a perfect animal ; which may again be increased in the same manner. To this class belong the polypus, the earth-worm, and all the varieties of the sea nettle. Insects are furnished with all the necessary appendages proper to each, for the purposes of defence, of flight, or providing 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 externally 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 opening reflecting the rays of hght, so that, when looked through, the object appears inverted, and thereby supplies the place of crystaline humour, of which insects are entirely destitute. Larger animals are obliged to turn their eyes towards the object they wish to behold ; but many insects, as flies, have their eyes so constructed as to admit the view of every neighbouring object at once. The number of eyes are very dissimilar in different insects ; some have only one ; others have two ; spiders have generally eight ; and flies have as many as ihere are perforations in the cornea, which are very numerous. Most insects are fiirnished with two antennae, or feelers, which serve to keep their eyes clean. Amphibious insects have their feet WORKS OF NATURE. 87 fonned 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 leaping, as the cricket and gra^hopper, have strong, brawny, muscular, legs; while th(»e who use their claws in perforating the earth, have these members admirably adapted for this purpose. Insects and reptiles, though seemingly the most in- significant of animated beings, have an important part assigned them to perform in this universe. Though the 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 fight by the shading of their wings, and every leaf that can give support to animal fife is often swept, at once, away by their devouring jaws; neither has the ingenuity of man, which subdues the strongest, and reclaims the most ferocious animals, enabled him to devise the means of defending himself from the devastations of these active invaders of his rights. EQs very existence itself, on many occasions, depends upon his speedy withdrawing beyond the sphere of their active incursions. If their power be thus irresistible, their ntUity is not perhaps less conspicuous on this globe. Man has ever been able, on some occasions, to make them become sub- servient to his wifi. The bee coUects honey for his use; the moth, under his influence, affords him silk ; the can- tharides an active drug; the cochineal insect the most brilfiant of his dyes. Even where they are totally beyond his control, they minister indirectly to his wants. Under the form of eggs, maggots, grubs, caterpiUars, aureliae, and flies, they fiimish 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 salutary to man, and aU animated nature. Without their unceasing aid in this respect, the air would become quickly tainted with the most noxioiis effluvia, which would soon put an end to animal existence. To obviate thL=!, the beneficent Creator hath decreed that a numerous department of this class of beings while in their 88 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. 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 lime with unceasing asiduity : and that nothing might divert their attention from this important business, even for one moment, the distinctions of sex are withheld from them while inthis state ; nor does it seem that they have a single perceptive faculty, unless it be that of striving to preserve their exist- ence, and allay their insatiable appetite for food. Having at length, however, with the most patient assiduity, per- formed the menial task that was assigned them, they are then called, by the bounty of the Creator, into another and' superior state of existence, in which they are destined to^ perform a part the most opposite which can be conceived to that .they formerly acted. The unsightly grub, after a] temporairy death, awakens into new life, and deserting the' clod it lately inhabited, and nauseating its former food,' sports in the sunbeam, 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 sexi seems to form the chief business of this period of life ;' food is neglected as if unnecessary, and its life is devoted to amorous dalliance alone. Having soon provided a nu-' merous progeny of voracious labourers, it leaves this tran- sitory scene, to make room for those who are destined to supply its important place in the universe. The changes and transformations of insects are first from the ovum (egg) into the larva (caterpillar or maggot),' then into the pupa (chrysalis), and last into the imago (fly).' Pupa is a name derived from the resemblance of the insect in this state to an mfant in swaddlina" cloths, and the term is now used in preference to chrysalis. The period of exist-| ence in each of these states, varies greatly in different species of insects ; but in general they continue much longer in the reptile state than that of the fly. The spe- cies of fly called ichneumon remains in the water as a kmd of worm, for the space of about two years ; in its fly state it seldom continues more than one day. The ephe- meron is nearly the same ; and the grub of the cockchafer remains under ground for about two years also ; in its fly state it in general exists only about two months. WORKS OF MATURE. iiJ Sect. VII. — Of the Human Frame. Man is placed at the head of the animal creation. Animated and enlightened by a ray from the Dignity, he surpasses in dignity every material being. He was made after all other creatures, not only as the most perfect, but as the superintendent and master of aU things ; created " 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 strongly marked, the contour of the members boldly delineated, and the features of the face ■well-defined. In woman, 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 are the portion of the other sex. Every thing in both sexes points them out as sovereigns of the earth : even the external appearance of man declares his superiority to other living creatures. His head tends towards the heavens, and in his august coun- tenance 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 majestic 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 cor- respondent organs of quadrupeds, execute the purposes of 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 pecuharly the organs of the Boul, are expressed 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 once the sky which illuminates, and the earth which supports him. Their reach extends to the nearest and the most distant objects, and glances fi-om the grains of sand at his feet to the star which shines over his head at an immeasurable distance. The human body consists of solid and fluid parts, which h2 90 YOUNG man's book OF KNOWLEDGE. in general called the solids and fluids, or humours of the body. The solid parts are bones, cartilages, ligaments, muscles, tendons, membranes, nerves, arteries, veins, ducts, oj fine tubular vessels of various sorts. Of these simple solids the more compound organs of life consists, viz. the brain, and cerebellum, the lungs, the stomach, the liver, the spleen, the pancreas, the kidneys, 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, sa- liva or spittle, iile, 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 parts of man, and have assigned to each of the above parts their appropriate use in the economy of his frame ; but none, perhaps, have given so comprehensive and eloquent a description of the structure of man as the late Dr. Hunter. " In order," says this celebrated anatomist, " to acquire a satisfactory general idea of this subject, let us, in imagi- nation, 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 diiFerent kinds of impressiuus which they will make. In fact, therefore, we see that she is provided with the organs of sense, as we call them ; the eye is adapted to light, the ear to sound, the nose to smell, the mouth to taste, and the skin to touch. Farther, she must be furnished with organs of communication between herself in the brain and those organs, to give her informa- tion of all the impressions that are made on them ; and she must have organs between herself in the brain and every other part of the body, fitted to convey her. com- mands and influence over the whole. For these purposes the nerves axe 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 against 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 \is THE WORKS OF NATURi 91 to those many disagreeable and painful sensations which we are exposed to from 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 pleeisant and useful to her ; and, accordingly, she is supplied with muscles and tendoTis, 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 fixed points for, and proper direction to, 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 purposes 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 together, to prevent their dislocation ; and this end is perfectly answered by the ligaments. The extremities of these bony pieces, where they move and rub upon one another, must have smooth and slippery surfaces, of easy motioiL This is most happily provided for by the cartilages, and mucus of the joints. The interstices 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 s:ime time allow them to move a little upon one another ; and these purposes are answered by the cellular membrane, or adi- pose substance. There must be an adequate covering over the whole apparatus, both to give it compactness, and to defend it from a thousand injuries ; which, in fad, are the very purposes of the skin, and other integuments. Lastly, the mind being formed for society and intercourse with beings of her own kind, she must be endued with powere of expressing and communicating her thoughts by some sensible marks or signs, easy to herself, and capable of great variety ; and accordingly she is provided * Dr. Keill reckons 345 bones in the hampn body; others make them to be 249, viz. in the skull 14, in the fiice and throat 46, in the txnnk 67, iatlie aims and hands ^ and in the legs and feet 80. 92 YOUNG man's book op knowledge. with the organs and faculty of speech, by which she can throw out signs with amazing facility, and vary them without end. " 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, iu a very little time such a living creature must be destroyed, if there is no provision for repairing the injuries which she will commit upon herself, and those which she will be exposed to from without. Therefore a treasure of blood is actually provided in the heart and vascular system, full of nutritious and healing particles, fluid, and able to penetrate into the minutest parts of the animal ; impelled 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 advantage 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 provided. These requisites in the animal ex- plain, a priori, the circulation of the blood. The old materials, which are become 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 redundant, vapid, or noxious, from the mass of blood ; and, when strained, they are thrown out by emunciories, called organs of excretion. But now, as the machine must be constantly wearing, the operations must be carried on without intermission, and the strainers must be always employed : therefore there is actually a perpetual circu- lation 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 con- sumed, and the fabric would break down, if there were not a provision made for fresh supplies. These we observe, in fact, are profusely scattered round her in the animal and vegetable kingdoms; and she is furnished with hands, the fittest instrumenis that could have been contrived, for gathering them, and for preparing them in a variety of ways for the mouth. But these supplies. THE WORKS OF NATURE. 98 which we call food, must be considerably changed ; 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 digestion. The finer parts of the aliments only 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 actually given. It separates the nutritious part, which we call chyle, to be conveyed into the blood by the system of the absorbent vessels ; and the feces pass downward out of the body. Thus wc see that, by the very imperfect survey which human reason is able to take of this subject, the animal man must necessarily be complex 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 accordingly made of such sj'stems, and for such purposes. He has them all ; and he has nothing more except the organs of respiration. Breathing it seemed difficult to account iox 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 well accounted for, and so wisely adapted to their several purposes, there would be no doubt that respiration was so likewise ; and, accordingly, the dis- coveries of Dr. Priestley have lately thrown light upon this function also. " Of all the different systems in the human body, the use and necessity are not more apparent, than the wisdom and contrivance which has been exerted in putting 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 operate successfully and usefully in a variety of secondarj' waj-s. If we consider the whole animal machine in this light, a.nd compare it with any in which human art has exerted its utmost skill (suppose the best constructed ship that ever was bui^t,) we shall be con- vinced, beyond the possibility of doubt, that there exists 94 Touno man's book of knowledog. intel'.igence and powers far surpassing what human art can boast of. C'ne superiority in the animal machine is peculiarly striking. In machines of human contrivance, or of art, there is an internal power, no principle in the thing itself, by which it can alter and accommodate itself to any injury that it may suffer, or make up any injury that 'admits of repair; but in the natural machine, or animal body, this is most wonderfully provided for by the internal powers of the machine itself; many of which are not more certain and obvious in their effects, than they are above all human comprehension as to the manner and means of their operation. 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 bleeding naturally stops of itself ; and a great loss of blood, from any cause, is in some measure compensated by a con- tracting power in the muscular system, which accommo- dates the capacity of the vessel to the quantity contained. The stomach gives information when the supplies have been expended ; represents, with great exactness, the quantity and quality of what is wanted in the present state of the machine ; and, in proportion as she meets with neglect, rises in her demand, urges her petition in a louder tone, and with move forcible arguments. For its protection, an animal body resists heat and cold in a very wonderful manner, and preserves an equal tempera- ture in a burning and in a freezing atmosphere. These are powers which mock all human invention or imitation ; they are characteristics of the Divine Architect." Part of the motions of the complicated frame of man, in common with all animated beings, are voluntary, or dependent on the mind j and part involuntary, 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 per- fectly incomprehensible. When the anatomist considers the number of muscles that must be put in motion before any animal exertion can be effected ; when he views them one by one, and tries to ascertain the precise degree to which every individual muscle must be constricted, or woR^ OF ifAttma. 96 relaxed, before the particular motion indicated can be effected, he finds himself lost in the labjrinth of calcu- lations in which this involves him : but when he con- siders that every one of these muscles must be constricted or releixed to the precise degree that appertains to each, and no more, and at the same instant of time ; -when he recollects that the smallest jarring in this respwct in any one jof 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 set brought into action, and so on continually as long as he pleases, his mind is lost in the immensity of worirler that this excites. But when he farther reflects, that it is not only he himself that is endowed with the faculty of calling forth those incomprehensible energies, but that the most insignificant insect is vested with pow- tirs 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 degraded existences on this globe, there are upwards of two thousand muscles, all of which can be brought into action with as much facilitj' at the will of that insect, and perform their several offices with as much accuracy, promptitude, and precision, as in the most perfect animal; and all this is done by that insect with an 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 stomach, the intestines, and all the functions mecessary to life, wait not to be called into action by any volition of ours. The heart, placed near the centre of the system, performs its task as well when we are asleep as when we are awake, by night as by day, and like an unwearied and faithful 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 cir- culation throughout the system, may be understood by the following computation, by Dr. Keill : Each ventricle 96 TouNO man's book of knowledge. ■will at least contain one ounce of blood. The heart con- tracts four thousand times in one hour ; from which it follows, that there pass through the heart, every hour, four thousand ounces, or three hundred and fifty pounds of blood. Now the whole mass of blood is said to be about twenty-five pounds ; so that a quantity 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 we 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 water 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 dis- section of a whale. " The aorta measured a foot diame- ter. Ten or fifteen gallons of blood is thrown out of the heart at a stroke, with an immense velocity, through a tube of a foot diameter. The whole idea fills the mind with wonder." It is thus, O great Author of all Things ! wc discover Thee in thy works. Thus may the curiosity of man be gratified by survey- ing the prpductlons of nature ; and thus the farther he extends his researches, the more reason will he find to admire the general economy of created beings. What- ever objects his eyes behold, whether small or great, he will see design and order impressed upon them, in the most conspicuous characters. The stars scattered over the blue vault of heaven, and so numerous as' to bafile calculation, whether they shine only to afford us light, or are the suns of other systems, and thus proclaim the extent of Almighty power, cannot fail to strike us with astonishment. The blazing comets, which were the dire prognostics, in the opinion of our ancestors, of the fall of kings, and the subversion of empires, we are taught by the improvements of philosophy to contemplate with admiration, devoid of terror; and to consider as ths abodes of creatures endowed with various powers and faculties. The earth performing her annual and diurnal circuit around the centre of the system, so as to produce a regular change of seasons, and a succession of light and darkness : the ocean giving to mankind the constant advantages of its tides ; and although frequently tem THE WOKKS OF NATURE. 97 pestuous, and sometimes threatening to mix its waveg with the clouds, and to overflow the earth, jet obejing the invariable laws of its flux and reflux, and never advancing beyond its prescribed bounds :— the air, which, from its partial pressure, would crush us to the ground, but by the elasticity of its internal resistance forming an exact counterbalance, clearly demonstrate the power, the wisdom, and the benignity of an omnipotent Creator. Time and space, substance and heat, are the vast mate- rials of nature ; the wide universe is the sphere in which they act ; and life, activity, and happiness, constitute the end of their operations. The whole race of animals pre- served to the present time in the same flourishing state in which they were at first created ; the impulse of instinct directing them to wholesome food, to commodious habitations ; and to the propagation of their kind ; the structure of their frames, suitable to their immediate use ; the several tribes of creatures subordinate to each other, conducive in various respects to the good of man ; and the abimdant provision made for their subsistence, are all evident and incontestible proofs of divine skill, con- trivance, and power. The human race, and all other beings, sure formed with such exquisite ingenuity, that man is wholly unable to imitate the most simple fibre, vein, or nerve, much less to construct a hand, or any other organ of contrivance or execution. All living creatures constitute one chain of universal existence, from the beginning to the end of the world. Our own structure, and the formation of all around, above, and beneath us, in the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms, proclaim the operations of an all-wise and all-powerful Being, and the constant agency of his over-ruling Providence. It is thus we discover the Almighty Creator of all things in his works ! Dark clouds rest upon his hallowed and inaccessible habitations : but the beams of glory darted from his eternal throne, shine around us on every side. We cannot with our mortal eyes behold his presence ; we cannot even look steadfastly upon the orb of day, his glorious emblem ; but we can in every part of the globe trace the plain vestiges of his power, wis- dom, aud benevolence. — Wherever a plant takes root and 98 toDNO man's book of knotvledge, flourishes, wherever an animal appears, there ia . hs plainly discoverable. In the depths of the Pacific Ocean, in the boundless wilds of Africa, upon the snowj summits of the Alps, and along the vast range of the stupendous Andes, he may be traced. His power and wisdom are evident in the formation of the fragrant rose, and the towering oak ; in the gentle lamb, and the roaring lion; in the melodious nightingale, and the rapacious vulture. The exquisite construction of their respective parts prove. the unskilfulness of men, even in their most elaborate productions, and demonstrates the admirable invention of their Creator. Compared with his works, how small, imperfect, and trifling are all the labours of art ! since all he does is marked with consum- mate skill and excellence. He has concealed from our strictest and most persevering examination, a knowledge which would neither minister more abundantly to our comforts, nor increase our happiness, his henevolence is displayed in what he denies as well as in what he bestows. In his hands matter is supple and prompt to receive every impression. At his command it is formed into beings, the most strongly remarked jjy character, and the most Varied by form, from the stern lineaments and shaggy covering of the lion, to the soft plumage and delicate shape of the dove. He has impressed a never-failing symmetry upon every created being of the same species, and endowed it with the same properties ; and this un changing execution and perpetuity of his original design, proves to us the undeviating regularity of his plans. The same principles of fecundity produce each particiilar kinds of animals ; and the same modes of preservation continue, as at the moment when by his creative voice they were first called into existence. The parents and the most distant offspring of animals are the same : pre- serving invariably through their successive' generations the most exact resemblance of their original stock. The different kinds still continue unaltered in proportions, features, and strength, and they flourish in full youth, bloom, and vigour ; and these are qualities not inter- rupted by the decay, nor weakened by the old age of their species. He has diversified the earth with hills and valleys, woods and plains ; intersected it with rivers, Works e* natvse. 99 lakes, and seas, aflfording to the eyes of man the most enchanting prospects, and the moat beneficial means to supply the wants of his nature, and guard him against the inclemency of the seasons. He has clothed the surface of the earth with the refreshing verdure of grass, and the thick forests of stately trees ; he has enriched it with such numerous v^etables as are more immediately conducive to the sustenance of man ; and has stored its bowels with those metals, wliich excite his industry, and minister to his accommodation. Foreseeing the adap- tation of many of his productions to the support and the comfort of human life, he has provided them in abun- dance ; his bounty to all creatures is like the mighty ocean, flowing in perrennial streams for every age : — ^it is open to every eye, its treasures are enjoyed wherever they are sought, but its sources are unknown and Unfathomable. Our natural desire of acquiring knowledge is ever at- tended with a consciousness of our ignorance ; and our pride is repressed at every step we take by the limited nature of our faculties, and the tardy progress of our utmost diligence. The history of nature, indeed, as far as our imperfect researches can extend to her general economy and laws, is the history of providential good- ness to all created beings : as we enlarge our acquaint- ance with it, the more do we understand our peculiar obligations, as creatures endued with reason, and enlight- ened by the revelation of the divine will. Our knowledge, therefore, is only valuable as it leads to devotion, gratitude and obedience, which constitute the due homage of wise and dependent beings. By looking back through the long series of past ages, we ascend to the developement of the creative power oi God, as the primary cause of all existence ; and we observe the proofs of omnipotence again manifested in the most tremendous manner, when at the divine com- mand the foundations of the deep were broken up, and the guilty race of men, except righteous Noah and his family, were overwhelmed in the general deluge ; of which the monuments are spread over the whole globe, to perpetuate the remembrance of sin and its punishment. By looking around ua^ and surveying the wide prospecti M.00 JOURQ man's book of krowledge. of nature, we see the Almighty supreme in majeaty, love, and mercy. — Led by the light of science to survey the starry heavens, we behold him exercising these attributes in other worlds; and communicating the blessings of existence and providential care to other systems of creation. Thus extending its eager views to the contemplation of objects so vast, so various, and so magnificent, our souls feel the narrowness of their faculties to comprehend the divine operations, and are overwhelmed in the con- templation of infinite power and transcendant glory; which only the bright order of celestial beings — ^the angels and archangels, who encompass the eternal throne of God, can adequately conceive, or duly cele- brate. The pleasures which arise from tracing this power and goodness will doubtless become incomparably more ex- alted and refined, when the faithful followers of the Redeemer of mankind shall be admitted to the realms of heaven and glory, and our souls, disengaged from all earthly impediments, shall ascend above the stars, and resemble those angelic beings ; — when the most accurate, most enlarged, and most interesting knowledge, will form a part of our eternal happiness ; — ^when the restless mind of man shall no longer form wild and inconsistent theo- ries to account for the formation of the globe ; bui the volume of universal nature shall be unfolded to his as- tonished eyes ; — ^when the laws, which regulate all orders of created beings, shall be fully unfolded and clearly understood, and man shall learn the true constitution of the world he now inhabits,, from the time when dis' cordant matter first obeyed the word of the Almighty, and was called into harmony and order, to the laal awful period of its existence I Loeic. 101 CHAP. III. LOGIC. Of all human sciences, that concerning man is cer- tainly the most worthy of man, and the most necessary part of knowledge. We find ourselves in this world surrounded with a variety of objects ; we have powers and faculties fitted to deai with them, and are happy or miserable in proportion as we know how to frame a right judgment of things, and shape our actions agreeably to the circumstances in which we are placed. No study, therefore, is more important than that which introduces us to the knowledge of ourselves. Hereby we become acquainted with the extent and capacity of the human mind ; and learning to distinguish what objects it is suited to, and in what manner it must proceed in order to compass its end, we arrive by degrees at that justness and truth of understanding which is the great perfection of a rational being. If we look attentively into things, and survey them in various degrees of eminence. Among the inanimate parts of matter, some exhibit nothing worthy our atten- tion : their parts seem, as it were, jumbled together by mere chance, nor can we discover any beauty, order, or regularity in their composition. In others we discern the finest arrangement, and a certain elegance of con- texture, that makes us affix to them a notion of worth and excellence. Thus metals, and precious stones, are conceived as far surpassing those unformed masses of earth that lie every where exposed to view. If we trace nature onward, and pursue her through the vegetable and animal kingdoms, we find her still multiplying her perfections, and rising by a just gradation, from mere mechanism to perception, and from perception in all its various degrees to reason and understanding. But though reason be the boundary by which man is distinguished from the other creatures that surround him, yet we are far from finding it the same in alL Nor is 9* H)2 YOUNG man's book or KHO'WLk.OQK. this inequality to be wholly ascribed to the original make of men's minds, or the difference of their natural endow- ments. For if we look abroad into the several nations of the world, some are over-run with ignorance and barbarity, others flourish in learning and the sciences ; and what is yet more remarkable, the same people have, in different ages, been distinguished by these very op- posite characters. It is therefore by culture, and a due application of the powers of our minds, that we increase their capacity, and carry human reason to perfection. Where this method is followed, knowledge and strength of understanding never fail to ensue ; where it is neglect- ed, we remain ignorant of our own worth ; and those latent qualities of the soul, by which she is fitted to sur- vey this vast fabric of the world, to scan the heavens, and search into the causes of things, lie buried in dark- ness and obscurity. — No part of knowledge, therefore, yields a fairer prospect of improvement than that which takes account of the understanding, examines its powers and faculties, and shews the ways by which it comes to attain its various notions of things. This is properly the design of Logic, which may be justly styled the history of the human mind, inasmuch as it traces the progress of our knowledge, from our first and simple perceptions, through all their diflferent combinations, and all those numerous deductions that result from variously compa- ring them one with another. It is thus that we are let into the natural frame and contexture of our minds, and learn in what manner we ought to conduct our thoughts, in order to arrive at truth, and avoid error. We see how to build one discovery upon another, and by preserving the chain of reasonings uniform and unbroken, to pursue the relation of things through all their labyrinths and windings, and at length exhibit them to the view of the soul, with all the advantages of light and conviction. But as to the understanding, in advancing from one part of knowledge to another, proceeds by a just grada- tion, and exerts various acts, according to the different progress it has made, logicians have been careful to note these several steps, and have distinguished them in their writings by the name of the operations of the mind.-^ These they make four in number ; and agreeably to that, LOOIC. IQS have divided the whole sjstem of logic into four parts, in which these acts are severally explained, and the con- duct and procedure of the mind in its different stages of improvement, regulated by proper rules and observations. Now, in order to judge how far logicians have followed nature in this distinction of the powers of the understand- ing, let us take a short view of the mind, and the manner of its progress, according to the experience we have of it in ourselves, and see whether the chain of our own thoughts will without constraint lead us. First, then, we find ourselves sun'ounded with a va- riety of objects, which, acting differently upon our senses, couvcy distinct impressions into the mind, and thereby rouse the attention and notice of the understanding. By reflecting, too, on what passes within us, we become sensible of the operations of our own minds, and attend to them as a new set of impressions. But in all this there is only bare consciousness. The mind, without proceed- ing any farther, takes notice of the impressions that are made upon it, and views things in order, as they present themselves one after another. This attention of the un- derstanding to the objects acting upon it, whereby it becomes sensible of the impressions they make, is called by logicians perception ; and the notices themselves, as they exist in the mind, and are there treasured up to be the materials of thinking and knowledge, are distin- guished by the name of ideas. But the mind does not always rest satisfied in the bare view and contemplation of its ideas. It is of a more active and busy nature, and likes to be assembling, them together, and comparing them one with another. In this complicated view of things, it readily discerns, that some agree, and others disagree, and joins or separates them according to this perception. Thug, upon comparing the ideas of two added to two with the idea of four, we at first glance perceive their agreement, and thereupon pro- nounce that two and two are equal to four. Again, that white is not black, and five is less than seven, are truths to which we immediately assent, as soon as we compare those ideas together. This is the first and simplest act of the mind, in determining the relation of things, when by a bare attention to its own idet^ comparing any two 104 rouNO man's book of knowledob. of them together, it can at once see how far they are connected or disjoined. The knowledge thence derived is called intuitive, as requiring no pains or examination ; and the act of the mind assembling its ideas together, and joining or disjoining them according to the result of its perceptions, is what logicians term judgement. Intuition affords the highest degree of certainty ; it breaks in -with an irresistible light upon the understand, ing, and leaves no room for doubt or hesitation. Could we in all cases, by thus putting two ideas together dis- cern immediately their agreement or disagreement, we should be exempt from error and its fatal consequences. But it so happens, that many of our ideas are of such a nature, that f hey cannot be thus examined in concert, or by any immediate application one to another ; and then it becomes necessary to find out some other ideas, that will admit of this application, that by means of them we may discover the agreement or disagreement we search for. — Thus the mind wanting to know the agree- ment or disagreement in extent, between two inclosed fields, which it cannot so put together as to discover their equality or inequality bj' an immediate comparison, casts about for some intermediate idea, which, by being ap- plied first to the one, and then to the other, will discover the relation it is in quest of. Accordingly it assumes some stated length, as a yard, &c. and measuring the fields one after the other, comes by that means to the knowledge of the agreement or disagreement in question. The intervening ideas, made use of on these occasions, are called proefs ; and the exeicise of the mind in find- ing them out, and applying them for the discovery of the truths it is in search of, is what we term reasoning. And here let it be observed, that the knowledge gained by reasoning is a deduction from our intuitive perceptions, and ultimately founded on them. Thus, in the case be- fore-mentioned, having found by measuring, that one of the fields makes three score square yards, and the other only fifty-five, we thence conclude that the first field is larger than the second. Here the two first perceptions are plainly intuitive, and gained by an immediate ap' plication of the measure of a yard to two fields, one after anothSf.^Tbe eoncluiion, though it producen no lees LOGIC. lOs certain knowledge, yet diifers from the others in this, that it is not obtained by an immediate comparison of the ideas contained in it one with another, but is a deduction from the two preceding judgments, in which these ideas are severally compared with a third, and their relation thereby discovered. We see, therefore, that reasoning ic a much more complicated act of the mind than simple judgment, and necessarily presupposes it, as being ulti- mately founded on the perceptions thence gained, and implying the various comparison of them one with an- other. This is the great exercise of the human faculties, and the chief instrument by which we push on our dis- coveries, and enlarge our knowledge. A quickness of mind to find out intermediate ideas, and apply them skilfully in determining the relation of things, is one of the principal distinctions among men, and that which gives some so remarkable a superiority over others, that we are apt to look upon them as creatures of another species. Thus far we have traced the progress of the mind in thinking, and seen it rising, by natural and easy steps firom its first and simple perfections, to the exercise of its highest and most distinguished faculty. Let us now view it in another light, as enriched with knowledge, and stored with a variety of discovcriej?, acquired by the due application of its natural powers. It is obvious to consider it in these circumstances, as taking a general sun'ey of its whole stock of intellectual acquisitions, disposing them under certain heads and classes, and tying them together, according to those connections and dependences it discerns between them. It often happens, in carrying on our inquiries from subject to subject, that we stumble upon unexpected truth, and are encountered by discoveries which our present train of thinking gave no prospect of bringing in our way. A man of clear ap- prehension, and distinct reason, who after due search and examination, has mastered any part of knowledge, and even made important discoveries in it, beyond what ho a! first expected, will not suffer his thoughts to lie jum- bled together in the same confused manner as chance offered them : he will be for combining them into a regu- lar system, where their mutual dependence may be easily 106 vouNO man's book or knowjledo>. traced, and the parts seem to grow one out of another. This is that operation of the mind, known by the name of disposition or mcthcd, and comes the last in order, ac- cording to the division of the logicians, presupposing some tolerable measure of knowledge, before it can have an opportunity of exerting itself in any extensive degree. We see, then, that this fourfold distinction of the pow- ers of the mind, into perception, judgment, reasoning, and disposition, as well as the order in which they are placed, have a real foundation in nature, and arises from the method and procedure of our own thoughts. It is true, there are many other actions and modifications of the understanding, besides those above mentioned, as believ- ing, doubting, assenting, &c. but these are all implied in the act of reasoning, in the like manner as compounding, abstracting, remembering, may be referred to the first operation of the mind or perception. Having thus given a general idea of the four opera- tions of the mind, and traced their connection and depen- dence one upon another, we would next observe, that in consequence of this division of' the powers of the under- standing, Logic is divided into four parts, which treat severally of these acts, and give rules and directions for their due conduct and regulation. The operations ihem- selves we have from nature ; but how to exert them justly, and employ them with advantage in the search of truth, is a knowledge that may be acquired by study and obser- vation. — It is certain that we meet with false reasonings as well as just. Some men are distinguished by an ac- curacy of thinking, and a happy talent of unravelling and throwing light upon the most obscure and intricate subjects. — Others confound the easiest speculations; their understandings seem to be formed awry, and they are incapable of either conceiving clearly themselves, or making their thoughts intelligible to others. If, then, we set ourselves carefully to observe what it is that makes the one succeed so well, and how the others come to miscarry, these remarks will furnish us with an art of the highest use and excellency in the conduct of life. Now, this is the precise business of Logic, to explain the nature of the human mind, and the proper manner of eonducting its several powers, in order to the attainment LOSIC. 107 of truth and knowledge. It lays open those errors and mistakes we are apt through inattention to run into, and teaches us how to distinguish between tmth, and what carries only the appearance of it. By this means we grow acquainted with the nature and force of the under- standing, see what things lie within its reach, where we may attain certainty and demonstration, and when we must be contented with bare probability. These consi- derations sufficiently evince the usefulness and benefit of this science, which ought to be established as the foun- dation and ground-work of all our other knowledge, if we really wish to succeed in our inquiries. But we shall now proceed to treat of its parts separately, according to the division given of them above. I. Of Simple Apprehension, or Perception, The first thing we observe, when we take a view of what passes within us, is, that we are capable of receiv iag impressions from a variety of objects ; that distinct notices are thereby conveyed into the understanding, and that we are conscious of their being there. This atten- tion of the mind to the objects acting upon it is what we call simple apprehension, and is in fact the mind itself, taking a view of things as represented to it by its own consciousness. It is by this means that we come to be furnished with all those ideas about which our thoughts are employed. For, being sensible of the impressions made upon us, and attending to the perceptions they bring, we can renew them again upon occasion, even when the objects that first produced them are removed. Now our ideas are nothing else but these renewed repre- sentations of what we have at any time perceived and felt ; by means of which, things are again brought under the view of the mind, and seem to have a kind of exist- ence in it. It is true, we can upon many occasions combine our ideas variously together, and thereby form to ourselves representations of things that never had an existence in nature, as when we fancy a centaur, or a golden mountain ; but it is still certain, that the ideeis out of which things are made, are such as have been con- veyed into the mind by some former impressions. It 108 TOUMG man's book or KNOWt£DO£. remains therefore to inquire, how we came by our first notions and perceptions of things. Whence does the understanding derive those original impressions and cha- racters, which it can combine in so many different ways, and represent to itself under such infinite varieties ? To this I answer, that if we attend carefully to what passes in our own minds, we shall observe two inlets of know- ledge, from whence, as from two fountains, the under- standing is supplied with all the materials of thinking. First, outward objects, acting upon our senses, rouse in us a variety of perceptions, according to the different manner in which they affect us. It is thus that we come by the ideas of light and darkness, heat and cold, sweet and bitter, and all those other impressions which we term sensible qualities. This great source and inlet of know- ledge is commonly distinguished by the name of sensation, as comprehending all the notices conveyed into the mind by impulses made upon the organ of sense. But these ideas, numerous as they are, are wholly de-. rived to us from without; there is, therefore, another source of impressions, arising from the mind's attention to its own acts, when, turning inwards upon itself, it takes a view of the perceptions that are lodged there, and the various ways in which it employs itself about them. For the ideas furnished by the senses, give the mind an opportunity of exerting its several powers ; and as all our thoughts, under whatever form they appear, are attended with consciousness, hence the impressions they leave, when we come to turn the eye of the soul upon them, en- rich the understanding with a new set of perceptions, no less distinct than those conveyed in by the senses. Thus it is that we get ideas of thinking, doubting, believing, willing, &o. which are the different acts and workings of our minds, represented to us by (tur own consciousness. — This second source of ideas is called reflection, and evi- dently presupposes sensation, as the impressions it fur- nishes are only of the various powers of the understanding, employed about perceptions already in the mind. These considerations, if we duly attend to them, will give us a clear and distinct view of the natural procedure of the human intellect in its advances to knowledge. We can have no perception of the operations of our own hoaic 109 minds until they are exerted : nor can they be exerted be- fore the understanding is furnished with ideeis abou t which to employ them ; and as these ideas, that give the first employment to our faculties, are evidently the perceptions of sense, it is plain that all our knowledge must begin here. This, then, is the first capacity of the human mind, that it is fitted to receive the impressions made upon it by outward objects a£fecting the senses ; which impressions, thus derived into the understanding, and there lodged for the view of the soul, employ it in various acts of perceiving, remembering, considering, &c. all of which are attended with an internal feeling and con- sciousness. And this leads us to the second step the mind takes in its progress towards knowledge, viz. that it can by its own consciousness represent to itself these its several workings and operations, and thereby furnish the understanding with a new stock of ideas. From these simple beginnings all our discoveries take their rise ; for the mind, thus provided with its original cha- racters and notices of things, has a power of combining, modifying and examining them in an infinite variety of lights, by which means it is enabled to enlarge the ob- jects of its perception, and finds itself possessed of an inexhaustible stock of materials. It is in the various comparison of these ideas, according to such combinations of them as seems best to suit its ends, that the under- standing exerts itself in the acts of judging and reason- ing, by which the capacious mind of man pushes on its views of things, adds discoveiy to discovery, and often extends its thoughts beyond the utmost bounds of the universe. Thus we see as it were, at one glance, the whole progress of the soul, from the very first dawnings of perception, till it reaches the perfection of human knowledge ; nor shall we, among all its vast stock of discoveries, or, that infinite variety of conceptions whereof they consist, be able to find one original idea which is not derived from sensation or reflection, or one complex idea which is not made up of those original ones. The ideas with which the mind is thus furnished, fall naturally under two heads. First, those original impres- sions which are conveyed by sensation and reflection, and which exist uniformly and without any shadow of va- 1 10 i 10 YouNo man's book of knowledge. tiety, and are called simple ideat; such as the ideas of colour, sound, heat, &c. And, secondly, those notions which result from the various combinations of simple ideas, whether they are supposed to co-exist in any par- ticular subject, or are united together by the mind when it enlarges its conceptions. These are called complex ideas ; such as a triangle, a square, &c. ; and are of two kinds : first, such as are derived from external objects, and represent those combinations of thought which have a real existence in nature ; of this kind are all our ideas of substances. Secondly, the conceptions formed by the mind itself, arbitrarily uniting and putting together its ideas. This makes by far the largest class, and includes all those ideas which may be termed our own. They are called abstract; such as whiteness, beauty, melody,&c: and are produced in various ways ; for either the mind combines several simple ideas together, in order to form them into one conception, in which the number and qua- lity of the ideas united are principally considered, and thus we acquire all our compound notions; or it fixes upon any of our ideas, whether simple or compound ; or upon the ideas of substances, and omitting the circum- stances of time, place, real e.\istence, or whatever renders it particular, considers the appearance alone, and makes that a representation of all that are of the same kind ; or, lastly, it compares things with one another, examines their mutual connections, and thereby furnishes itself with a new stock of notions, known by the name of relations, which are either proportional, as equal, more, less, or natural, as father, mother, &c. or civil, as presi dent and people, general and army, &c. This division of our ideas, as it seems to be the most natural, and truly to represent the manner in which they are introduced into the mind, will be found to include them in all their varieties. We know that our thoughts, although so numerous, are all contained within our own breasts, and are invisible. But as the Supreme Being formed mankind for a state of society, he has provided us with organs proper for framing articulate sounds, and has given us also a capacity of using those sounds as signs of all the thoughts we wish to communicate. From hence are derived words and LOGIC. 1 1 1 lan^ages. For any sound bein» once determined upon to stand as the sign of any idea, custom by degrees esta- blishes such a connexion between them, that the appear- ance of the mind 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. " The ends of language are," says Locke, " first to make known one man's thoughts to another; secondly, to do it with ease and quickness ; and, thirdly, thereby to convey the knowledge of things. When language fails in any of these requisites, it is abused, or deficient." In order, to show, then, our own knowledge of a sub- ject, to remove ignorance, or prevent mistakes in the minds of those with whom we converse, it is necessary to be able to explain our meaning with precision and accuracy of language. Logic, which teaches the nature and rules of definition, will enable us to do this. Defini- tion puts an end to that ambiguity which is frequently apt to bewilder the understanding, and to produce dis- putes. A definition is a sentence lohich explains the meaning of a complex idea, by expressing in proper words, the simple ideas of which it is composed. Its rules arc, that it should be piecisely adequate to the term defined; that the words employed in the definition should be clearer and better known than the term defined ; and that it should be comprehended in terms which are proper, that is, solely applicable to the term defined. If these rules be observed, the definition may always be put in the place of the term defined, which is the true test of its correctness. If we were unable to communicate our complex ideas to each other by means of definitions or descriptions, more or less exact, it would in many cases be impossible to make them known. This will appear the more evident in those ideas which are solely the oflfepring of ihe mind ; for as they have no real objects in nature, according to which they are framed, if we could not convey them to others by description, they must be con- fined to the hmits of a single mind. All the abstract ideas which spring from the fancy of a poet, and which 1 13 TouNO man's book of knowledge. he describes as real persons existing and engaged in action, could not extend their influence beyond his own breast, or give pleasure to any one but himself, if he were destitute of this faculty of displaying them by words. To simple ideas we shall find definition inapplicable ; because, as several terms of a definition signify several ideas, they cannot, when taken altogether, represent one idea which has no composition at all : but as they are intended to make known the meaning of words standing for all complex ideas, if we were always careful to form those ideas, and to copy our definitions from them with exactness, as a skilful painter does a good Ukeness, much of the obscurity and confusion of language, as it is used both in writing and conversation, might be prevented. II. Judgment. The mind being furnished with ideas, the next step necessary in the progress of knowledge is to compare them together, in order to judge of their agreement or disagreement. In this connected view of our ideas, if the relation be such as to be immediately discoverable by the bare inspection of the mind, the judgments thence obtained are called intuitive, from a word that denotes to look at, or into ; for in this case a mere attention to the ideas compared is sufficient to inform us how far they are connected or disjointed. Thus, " that the whole is greater than any of its parts," is an intuitive judgment, nothing more being required to convince us of its truth, than an attention to the ideas of whole and part. Intui- tion, therefore, is no more than an immediate preception of the agreement or disagreement of any two ideas. This is the first of the three foundations of our knowledge, upon which depends that species of reasoning, which is called demonstration; for whatever is deduced from our in- tuitive perceptions by a clear and connected series of proofs, is said to be demonstrated, and produces absolute cer- tainty. Hence the knowledge obtained in this manner is what we properly term science ; because, at every step of the argument, it carries its own evidence with it, and leaves no room for doubt. Demonstration is confined to Loaic. 113 mathematical studies, and they are indebted to it for their peculiar clearness and certainty. The second ground of human judgment, from which we infer the existence of the objects which surround us, and fall under the immediate notice of our senses, is ex- perience. When we behold the sun, or direct our eyes to a building, we not only have ideas of those objects, but ascribe to them a real existence independent of the mind. It is likewise by the information of the senses, that we judge of the qualities of bodies ; as when we assert that snow is white, fire is hot, or steel hard. As intuition is the foundation of all scientific, so is experience the foun- dation of all natural knowledge; for the latter being wholly conversant with objects of sense, or with those bodies which constitute the natural world, and we can only discover their properties by a series of observations, it is evident, that, in order to improve this branch of knowledge, we must have recourse to the method of trial and experiment. The third ground of judgment is testimony. There are many facts that will not admit an appeal to the senses. All human actions, when considered as already past, are of this description. As from the other two grounds are deduced scientific and natural knowledge, so far from this we derive historical ; by which is meant, not only a knowledge of the civil transactions of states and kingdoms, but of all cases where the evidences of witnesses is the ground of our belief. The act of assembling our ideas together, and joining or disuniting them according to the result of our percep- tions, is called judgment ; but when these judgments are expressed by words, they are called propositions. A pro- position, therefore, is a sentence denoting some judgment, whereby two or more ideas are affirmed to agree or dis- agree. The idea of which we affirm or deny any thing, and of course the term expressing the idea, is called the subject of the proposition. The idea affirmed or denied, as also the term expressing it, is called the predicate ; and that word which, in a proposition, connects these two ideeis, is called the copvla ; and if a negative particle be annexed, we thereby understand that the ideas are disjoined. The substantive verb is commonly employed 10* 114 YOUNG man's BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. as the copula, as in this proposition : " God is omnipo- tent ;" -where the verb substantive represents the copula, and signifies the agreement of the ideas of God and omnipotence. But if it be our intention to separate two ideas, then, in addition to the verb substantive, we must also apply some particle of negation, to express this re- pugnance. The proposition, " man is not perfect," may serve as an example of this kind ; where the notion of perfection being removed from the idea of man, the ne- gative particle not is inserted after the copula, to signify the disagreement between the subject and the predicate. Propositions are affirmative or negative, universal or particular, absolute or conditional, simple or compound ; and are generally divisible into self-evident, or demon- strable. When the mind admits an agreement between two ideas, we call the admission an affirmative judgment ; as, on the contrary, a negative judgment is the admission of disagreement between the ideas compared : and as any two ideas compared together must necessarily either agree or disagree, it is evident that all our judgments are included in these two divisions. Hence, likewise, the propositions expressing these judgments are all either affirmative or negative. An affirmative proposition con- nects the predicate with the subject, as " a stone is heavy ;" a negative proposition separates them, as " God is not the author of evil." Affirmation, therefore, is the same as joining two ideas together ; and this is done by means of the copula. Negation, on the contrary, denotes a repugnance between the ideas compared ; in which case, a negative particle must be employed, to show that the connexion included in the copula does not take place. Our ideas, according to what has been already observ- ed, are all single as they enter the mind, and represent individual objects. But as, by abstraction, we can render them universal, so as to comprehend a whole class of things, and sometimes several classes at once, the terms expressing these ideas must be in like manner universal. Thus when we say, "men are mortal," we consider ihortality not as confined to one, or any number of men, but as what may be affirmed without exception of Loaic. 115 the whole species. By this means the proposition be- comes as general as the idea which is its subject ; and, indeed, derives its universality entirely from that idea being more or less so, according as it may be eKtended to a smaller or greater number of individuals. A particular proposition has some general term for its subject, but with a mark of limitation added, to denote that the predicate agrees only with some of the indi- viduals "comprehended under a species, or with one or more of the species belonging to a genus, and not with the whole universal idea. Thus, "some stones are heavier than iron." In this proposition, the subject, " some stones," implies only a certain number of indi- viduals comprehended under a single species. We may observe, therefore, that all propositions are either affirmative or negative ; nor is it less evident, that in both cases they may be universal or particular. Hence arises the division of them into universal affirmative, and universal negative ; particular affirmative, and particular negative. Propositions are either absolute or conditional. The absolute are those wherein we affirm some property inse- parable from the idea of the subject, and which therefore belongs to it in all possible cases; as, " God is infinitely wise," — " Virtue tends to the ultimate happiness of man." But when the predicate is not necessarily connected with the idea of the subject, unless upon some consideration distinct from that idea, then the proposition is called conditional. The reason of the name is taken from the supposition annexed, and may be expressed as such : " If a stone be exposed to the rays of the sun, it will contract some degree of heat." A due attention to this division of propositions is very necessary in the pursuit of accurate knowledge. If we be careful never to affirm things absolutely, but when the ideas are inseparably united ; and if in our other judg- ments we distinctly mark the conditions, which determine the predicate to belong to the subject, we shall be less liable to mistake in applying general truths to the particular concerns of human life. Propositions, when only two ideas are compared toge- tbefi are in general called simple ; because, having but il6 YOUNG man's BOOK OP KNOWLEDGE. one subject and no predicate, they are the effect of a single judgment which admits of no subdivision. But if Severn! ideas present themselves to our thoughts at once, so that we are led to affirm the same thing of different objects, or different things of the same object, the propo- sitions expressing these judgments are called compound; because they may be resolved into as many others, as there are subjects or predicates in the whole complex de- termination of the mind. Thus, " God is infinitely wise and infinitely powerful." Here there are two predicates, " infinite wisdom" and " infinite power," both afiirmed of the same subject ; and accordingly the proposition may be resolved into two others, which distinctly affirm these predicates. When any proposition is presented to the mind, if the terms in which it is expressed be understood upon com- paring the ideas together, the agreement or disagreement asserted is either immediately perceived, or found to be too remote from the present reach of the understanding. In the first case, the proposition is said to be self-evident, and requires no proof whatever; because a bare atten- tion to the ideas themselves produces full conviction and certainty. But if the connexion or repugnance be not so readily perceived, we must have recourse to reasoning ; and if by a series of proofs we can ascertain the truth proposed, so that self-evidence shall accompany every step of the argument, we are then able to prove our as- sertion, and the proposition is said to be demonstrable. When we affirm, for instance, " that it is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be," whoever under- stands the terms used, perceives at the first glance the truth of what is asserted, nor can he bring himself to be- lieve the contrary. But if we say, '' this world had a beginning," the assertion is indeed equally true, but shines not forth with the same degree of evidence. We find great difficulty in conceiving how the world could be created out of nothing, and are not brought to a full as- sent of the assertion, until by reasoning we arrive at a clear view of the absurdity involved in the contrary sup- position. Hence this proposition of the kind we call demonstrable, as its truth is not immediately perceived, but yet may be made evident by means of others more Loaic. 117 fcnown and obvious, from whence it follows as a necessary consequence. III. Reasoning, It frequently happens, in comparing our ideas together, that their agreement or disagreement cannot be discerned at first sight, especially if they are of such a nature as not to admit of an exact application to each other. It therefore becomes necessary to discover some third idea, ■which will admit of such an application as the present case requires ; wherein if we succeed, the relation we are in search -of may be traced with ease. This manner of determining the relation between any two ideas by the in- tervention of a third, with which they may be coifipared, is what we call reasoning, and is indeed the chief instru- ment by which we extend our discoveries, and enlarge our knowledge. The great art consists in finding out such intermediate ideas, as, when compared with the others in question, will furnish evident truths; because it is only by such means we can arrive at the knowledge of what is concealed and remote. From the limited nature of the human mind arises the necessity of reasoning. When we cannot judge of the truth or falsehood of a proposition b3' the mere considera- tion of its subject and predicate, we are obliged to com- pare each of them with some third idea ; that is, by seeing how far they agree or disagree with each other : as for example, if there be two lines, A and B, and we are ignorant whether they are equal or not, we must take a third line, C, and apply it to each of them : if it agree with them both, then we infer that A and B are equal ; but if it agree with one and not with the other, then we conclude A and B are unequal ; if it agree with neither of them, there can be no comparison. So if the question be whether "God must be worshipped," we seek a third idea ; suppose the idea of a Creator ; and say, our Creor tor must be worshipped; God is our Creator; therefore God must be worshipped. The comparison of this third idea with the two distinct parts of the question requires two propositions, which are called the premises; tho third proposition drawn from them is the conclusion, in lis YOUNG man's BOOK OF KN'OWLeSOS* which the question itself is answered, and the subject and predicate are joined either in the negative or the affirma- tive. The foundation of all affirmative conclusions is laid in this general truth, that so far as two ideas agree with any third idea, they agree among themselves. The character of Creator agrees with God, and worship agrees with a Creator ; therefore worship agrees with God. The foun- dation of all negative conclusions is this, that where one of the two proposed ideas agrees with the third idea, and the other disagrees with it, they must disagree so far with one another ; as if, for example— no sinners are happy ; and if angels are happy, then angels are not sinners. Thus appears the strict notion of a syllogism. It is a sentence consisting of three propositions so disposed, that the last is necessarily inferred from those which pre- cede it. In the constitution of a syllogism, two things are to be considered : its matter and its form. The matter con- sists of three propositions: and these consist of three ideas, or terms, variously joined. These three terras are named the major, the minor, and the middle. The pre- dicate of the conclusion is called the major term, because it ie generally of a more extensive signification than the minor term or subject. The major and minor terms are called the extremes. The middle term is the third idea placed in two of the propositions in such a manner as to shew the connexion between the major and the minor terms in the conclusion; for which reason this middle term is sometimes called the argument. The act of reasoning, or inferring one thing from an- other, is generally expressed by the word therefore, when the argument is formed according to the rules of art; though in cominon conversation or writing, such words as for, because, point out the act of reasoning, as well as tlien and therefore. And wherever these arc used, a per- fect syllogism is employed, though the three propositions may not be drawn out according to the regular form. These observations are principally applicable to simple or categorical syllogisms, although every syllogism contains something analogous to them. LOGICS 1 Id Of all parts of logic, that which relates to the struc- true of syllogisms least deserves the attention of a student. Syllogistic reasoning is a display of truth, not a discovery of it. It only shews that the conclusion is contained in the premises. Every syllogism is no more than a parti- cular application of this general principle, — that what ia affirmed or denied of a whole genus, may be affirmed or denied of every species or individual contained in it. If the forms of syllogism were necessary for the dis- covery of truth, what did the world do, before the days of Aristotle, without them ? Destitute of this aid, Moses deUvered to the children of Israel a divine law, and So- crates taught clear and sound morality to the Athenians. IV. Method. The fourth operation of the mind relates to the ar- rangement of our thoughts, when we endeavour to unite them in such a manner, thiit their mutual connection and dependence may be clearly seen. This is method. It requires a proper distribution of all the parts of a subject, and that every thing of the same kind should be placed in lis proper situation. The great principle of order was first displayed when the Almighty, from the rude mate- rials of chaos, called the world into existence, and regularity was diffused through all parts of nature; and it is conspicuous in all the best productions of man in art, science, and literature. Method is not less an advantage than an ornament to whatever subject it is applied. In the disposition of our thoughts, either for our own use alone, or when we intend to communicate them to others, there are two modes of proceeding, which are equally in our power to choose. When a whole subject is divided into several parts, and we proceed regularly from generals to particulars, the method pursued is called the analytic; when, on the contrary, these parts are united together according to their mutuul connection and affinity, so that the truths first in order contribute to the establishment of those which follow, this makes what is called synthetic method. Adopting this process, we proceed by collecting the 120 loDNG man's book or kkowledge. scattered parts of knowledge, and combining them into one system, in such a manner that the understanding is enabled to follow truth, without error or confusion, through all her different stages. These two kinds of method admit of easy illustrations. In learning grammar, for instance, we first acquire the knowledge of letters ; we combine them to make sylla- bles; of syllables are composed words, and ef words sentences and discourses. This is synthetic method, and is called the method of instrucfioji. We may know superficially what plants are ; but it is by the information which the study of botany gives, that we become instructed in the com- ponent parts of any one, and distinguish its calix, staminjt, corolla, pistillum, species, and genus. We may likewise have a general notion of an animal; but it is by the study of anatomy we gain a particular knowledge of its carti- lages, bones, veins, nerves and all other parts. This is analytic method, and is called the method of invention. This short treatise may be sufficient to prove that logic, beginning with the sources and first principles of thought ascends regularly from one act of the under- standing to the other, an'd connects our ideas in such a manner, that every stage of their progress is clear and satisfactory ; that reasoning is the ability of deducing unknown truths from those already known ; and that method is necessary for marshalling our ideas, and giving clearness and r^ulantj to them. CHAP. IV. OF ELOaUENCE. £i.o(iTTENCE, in its greatest latitude, denotes "that art or talent by which the discourse is adapted to ita end ;" so to be truly eloquent is to speak to the purpose. The most essential requisites in eloquence are, solid argument, clear method, and an appearance of sincerity in the speaker, with such graces of style and utterance as shall invite and command attention. Good sense must KLOQUENCB. 131 be its foundation. Without this, no man can be truly eloquent. Before we can persuade, we must first con- vince. Convincing and persuading, though sometimes confounded, are of very diferent import. Conviction affects the understanding only ; persuasion, the will and the practice. It is the business of the philosopher to convince us of truth ; it is that of the orator to persuade us to act conformably to it, by engaging our affections in its favour. Conviction is however, one avenue to the heart ; and it is that which an orator must first attempt to gain ; for no persuasion can be stable, which is not founded on convictioiL But the orator must not be sa- tisfied with convincing; he must address-' himself to the pa^ions; he must paint to the fancy, and touch the heart; and hence, beside solid argument and clear method, all the captivating and interesting arts, both of competition and pronunciation, enter into the idea of eloquence. Eloquence may be considered as consisting of three kinds, or degrees. The first, and most inferior, is that which endeavours only to please the hearers. Such, in general, is the eloquence of panegyrics, inaugural orations, addresses to great men, and other harangues of thk kind. This ornamental sort of composition may innocently amuse and entertain the mind, and may be connected, at the same time, with very useful sentiments. But it must be acknowledged, that where the speaker in- tends only to shine and to please, there is no small danger of art being strained into ostentation, and of the composi- tion becoming tiresome and insipid. A second, and a superior degree of eloquence is* when the sp)eaker proposes, not merely to please, but likewise to inform, to instruct, to convince ; when his art is employed in removing prejudices against himself and his cause ; in selecting the most proper arguments, stating them with the greatest force, disposing of them in the best order, expressing and delivering them with propriety and beauty, and thereby preparing us to pass that ju^- ment, or favour that side of the cause, to which he desires to bring us. Within this degree, chiefly, is employed the eloquence of the bar. Yet there remains a third, and still higher degiee of 11 }2!2 TOCNO KAN'S BOOK OF EROWLEDOX. eloq[uence, by which we are not only convinced, but art interested, agitated, and carried along with the speaker; our passions arise- with his ; we share all his emotions, we love, we hate, we resent, as he inspires us ; and are prepared to resolve, or to act, with vigour and warmth. Debate, in popular assemblies, opeiB the most extensive field for the exercise of this species of eloquence ; and the pulpit likewise admits it. « It is necessary to remark, that this high species of eltf-- Cfuence is always the offspring of passion. By passion, we mean that state of mind in which it is agitated and fired by some object it has in view. Hence the universally acknowledged power of enthusiasm in -public speakers/ affecting their audience. Hence all studied declamation^ and laboured ornaments of style, which show the mina to be cool and unmoved, are so incompatible with persua-^ sive eloquence. Hence every kind of affectation in ges- ture and pronunciation, diminish so much the merits of a; speaker. Hence, in fine, the necessity of being, and of being believed to be disinterested and in earnest, in order to persuade. The foundation of every species of eloquence, is good sense and sdid thought. To speak well, says Cicero, is to speak justly, methodically, floridly i and copiously. Now, in order to speak justly, or pertinently, a person must be master of his subject, that he may be able to say all that is proper, and avoid whatever may appear foreign and trifling. And he must clothe his thoughts with such tirords and expressions as are most suited to the nature of the argument, and will give it the greatest force and evv dence. And as it teaches to speak justly, so likewise methodv eally. This requires that all the parts of a discourse be placed in their proper order, and with such just connec- tion, as to reflect a light upon each other, and thereby to render the whole both clear in itself, and easy to be re- tained. To speak floridly, requires all the biauties a.ni flowers of lasguage — the best sense and the clearest reasoning ; in short, it comprehends the whole subject of elocution. But nothing appears of more force in oratory than a eopioustiASB of expression, or a proper manner of enlarge' KL04UENCS. 133 ment, suited to the nature of the subject ; which is of great use in persuasion, and forms the last part of speak- ing well. To ascertain the leadingprinciples relating to eloquence in general, it may be sufficient to consider the subject un- der five distinct heads. I. The sources of argument. II. The different kinds of style. IIL The ornaments of a composition. IV. The arrangement of the different parts of a com- position. . V. Propriety of delivery and action. I. T%€ Sources of Argument. The basis of eloquence is invention. This faculty, strictly speaking, relates to discovery rather than creation, and must be understood to signify new associations of those ideas which had been previously stored in the mind. It is this which enables the speaker to form such topics as are necessary for the statement, explanation, and illus- tration of his subject, with a view to conciliate the miads of his hearers, and engage thera in his favour. A liveli- ness of imagination, and a quickness of thought, are great assistances to invention ; and they who possess these gifts of nature, are found to be rarely at a loss for reasons to defend truth and detect error. Of this prime faculty the most eminent orators and poets were in full possession ; and we find that so far from giving us any cause to complain of barrenness of invention, they display the abundant produce of intellectual fertility. This re- mark is particularly justified, among other instances, by the examples of Homer, Plato, and Cicero. Accurate learning, and extensive knowledge, the pros- pects of nature, the discoveries of art, the aids of educa- tion, and the results of experience and observation upon mankind, are the proper funds to supply this faculty with its requisite stores. Hence are furnished the various to- pics, whether external or internal, which are appUcable to the different kinds of causes, whether demonstrative, deliberative, oijvdiciaU and which are treated of at large 124 vouNG man's book op knowledge. by the rhetoricians, and particularly by Aristotle and Ci- cero. The judgment must ever be active in the right application of the assistance, which genius and extensive knowledge can bring to every particular subject ; what- ever is trifling and superfluous must be rejected ; and nothing admitted into a composition that is not fully to the purpose, and calculated to answer the end originally proposed. II. The different Kinds of Style, Style is the manner in which a person expresses him- self by means of words, and it is a characteristic of hia thoughts. It is the description or picture of his mind. As eloquence derives its chief excellence, beauty, and splendour, from style, it is of the greatest importance to the orator to be well acquainted v/ith its various kinds. Everj' country possesses, not only a peculiar language, but a peculiar style, suited to the temper and genius of its inhabitants. The eastern nations are remarkable for dic- tion, which is full and sonorous, strong and forcible, and animated by bold and expressive figures. On the con- trary the northern languages are deficient in these respects, and generally partake of the cold influence of their climate. In the former, the warmth of imagina- tion predominates ; in the latter, there is more of the strictness and correctness of judgment. The principal distinctions of style arise from the diver- sity of subjects. The same mode of expression would be as inconsistent upon diflferent occasions, as the same dress for persons of different ranks, or for different seasons of the year. Propriety, therefore, requires expression to be adapted to the nature of the subject. Style is sometimes divided into three kinds, the low or plain ; the middle or temperate ; and the lofty or sublime. As, however these three divisions may be found, upon examination, to be too theoretical, it may be better to adopt a more striking and more marked distinction, by separating the style into the plain and the ground. A plain style is that of which the words are direct and strictly proper ; it sinks not to those which are vulgar ELOdUENCG. 125 nor does it rise to those which are lofty. As it is em- ployed to describe things correctly and clearly, its proper subjects are letters, essays, narratives, works of science, and philosophy, or any other topics that require little or no ornament, or addresses to the passions. Simplicity and ease are its peculiar beauties; and the choicest examples of it are to be found in the works of Xenophon and Caesar, and the sermons of Seeker and Wilson They are Veil'd in a simple robe, their best attire, Beyond the pomp of diess The grand style belongs to those subjects which admit all the splendour, force, and dignity of composition. It is the soil which is favourable to the growth of the fairest flowers of eloquence. Here the most select words, flow- ing periods, and bright and animated tropes and figures, find their proper place. The dialogues of Plato, the speeches of Livy, and the most admired orations of De- mosthenes and Cicero, afford the best examples. As it is a matter of importance that the style should be adapted to the subject, this care is in no respect more in- dispensable than in the sublime and the pathetic. The sublime includes the grandest thoughts which the mind is capable of forming. Such thoughts relate either to divine subjects, to the works of nature, or such expres- sions, or actions, as are esteemed the noblest and the best. The sublime shines by its own native light, and far from soliciting, rejects the assistance of ornament ; for, when the mind is elevated to the utmost extent of its powers by a noble idea, it attends not to the niceties of language : but, from its own vigorous and lively conception of things, expresses them in terms the most emphatic, and best adapted to their nature. Dignity and majesty are the proper qualities of this species of style, both as to the thought and expression ; as may be best illustrated by numerous passages in the Holy Scriptures, the Iliad of Homer, and the Paradise Lost of Milton. The subhme often relates to subjects which the mind }annot full comprehend, and derives part of its effect from obscurity. Thus, in surveyiiig the prospects of nature, we are more struck with a view of such mountains ag 11* 126 YOUNO HAN'a BOOK OF KNOWLEDCE. Snowden, or Benlomond, when their summits are envelop- ed in clouds, than when they are completely visible. A cataract partly concealed by trees, and which is more heard than seen, produces the same effect. Lightning and thunder increase their terror from happening when the sky is black with clouds, or during the night. No passages are more sublime than some in scripture, which combine the terrific with the obscure. Such is the description given in the Psalms, of the manifestation of the Almighty. " There went a smoke out in his pre- sence ; and a consuming fire out of his mouth, so that coals were kindled at ft. He bowed the heavens also, and came down : and it was dark under his feet. He rode upon the cherubims, and did fly ; he came flying upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness his secret place, his pavilion round about him with dark ■water, and thick clouds to cover him." And again — " The waters saw thee, O God, the waters saw thee, and were afraid : the depths also were troubled. The clouds, poured out water, the air thundered ; and thine arrows ■went abroad. The voice of thy thunder was heard round about ; the lightning shone upon the grouiKl : the earth was moved and shook withal. Thy way is in the sea, and thy paths in the great waters, and thy footsteps are not known." The noblest example is recorded by Moses in the Book of Grenesis, when he describes the Almighty com- mencing his work of creation. And God, said let there be light — and there teas light. Every other instance^ whether ancient or modern, whether taken from an histo- rian, orator, poet, or philosopher, sinks infinitely below this. So that with good reason did Longinus, who had all the works of antiquity before him, pronounce his high approbation of this passage. With the sublime is properly classed the pathetic of composition, wherein the greatest power is exerted over the passions. Here we are interested, agitated, and car- ried along with the speaker or writer, wherever he chooses to lead us ; our passions are made to rise in unison with bis ; we love, detest, admire, resent, as he inspires us ; and are prompted to feel ■with fervour, and to act with •nergy, in obedience to the particular impulse which he ^ves to our minds. Quintilian, with great propriety, calls this power of moving' the passions, the soul and spirit of his art : as the proper use of the passions is not to blind or to counteract the exercise of reason, but to move m conformity to it ; if an improper impulse be sometimes given to them, it is not the feult of the art, but of the artist. The pulpit admits this species of eloquence, as is clear from the sermons of Masillon and Bourdaloue; but the fictitious scenes of tragedy open the most extensive field for its display. '^^be diction of an orator may include various kinds of style. As he speaks sometimes to prove and instruct, sometimes to entertain and delight, and sometimes to louse, animate, and astonish, he must be occasionally plain, manly, figurative, pathetic, or sublime. AU th^ variety, however, is rarely necessary upon the same occasion. Due regard must be paid to the nature of the subject, the dispositions of the audience, the time, the place, and all other ciicumstances. HI. The Ornaments of a Composition. The most ancient languages, such as the Hebrew and the Arabic, are highly %urative ; and so are those which are spoken by the wUd tribes of Indians and Americans. " We have planted the tree of peace," said an American orator, " and we have buried the axe under its roots ; we will henceforth repose under its shade ; and we will join to brighten the chain which binds our nations together." Such figurative expressions as these, which in an unim proved state of language arise from necessity, were, in process of time, used in more polished societies, for the sake of decoration, like garments originEilly used for protection against inclement weather, were afterwards worn for the sake of ornament. The imagination, and the passions, have an extensive influence over every lan- guage; the thoughts and emotions they suggest are expressed by words taken from sensible objects, and the names of these objects were the words first introduced into all languages, and by degrees applied to other thoughts more abstract and obscure, to which it was difficult to assign distinct and proper word£. 128 Yoasa man's book of knowledge. The ornaments of composition are divided into fropet and figures. Tropes and figures are distinguished from each other in several respects ; but tropes mostly affect single words, whilst figures have relation to whole sentences Tropes and figures promote strength of expression and brevity ; and brevity, united with perspicuity, is always agreeable. Tropes and figures are often used to supply the unavoidable defects of language, and are favourable to delicacy. When the proper name of any thing is in any respect unpleasant, a well chosen trope will convey the idea in such a way as to give no ofience to the most delicate ear. Tropes and figures are the dress of sentiment ; and con- sequently should be adapted to the character of that style they are intended to embellish ; their uses are very extensive — as large as universal nature ; for there are scarce any two things which have not some similitude between them ; and as almost every sentence is more or less figurative, therefore they require to be judiciously applied. In general, tropes and figures of speech convey two ideas to the mind, by a departure from simplicity of ex- pression, and the change of a word from its proper signi- fication to some other, with advantage, either as to beauty or strength : for instance, when an artful man is called a fox, the reason of the name is founded on a similitude of qualities ; if we say Milton will always live, meaning his works, the cause is transferred to the efiect ; to say, " The sun rises," is a common expression, but it becomes a mag- nificent image wTien expressed with dignity, as Thomson has done : " But yonder comes the pow'rful king of day " Rejoicing in the east." By a figure of speech being justly applied, even convic- tion is assisted, and truth is impressed on the mind with additional force. Having considered the nature of tropes and figures, in the next place we shall mention such of them as are of the greatest importance, viz. metaphor, allegory, simile. elo(icence: 129 metonymy, personification, apostrophe, antithesis, interro- gation, exclamation, £uid climax. A metaphor is usually defined a trope, which changes words from their proper signification to another different from it, by reason of some similitude or resemblance which one object bears to another, and is nearly allied to simile or comparison. It is a simiUtude when we say a man acted like a lion; and a metaphor when we say he is a lion. Metaphors are forms of expression very fre- quent in the sacred writings; as, "Thy word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path." The use of meta- phors is very extensive ; and may be applied to any two things which have the least similitude between them Metaphors may be taken from a similitude between animate beings; as, a man may be compared to a brute, and asked why he barked so ; or, why he bellowed so t From a simiUtude of inanimate things, whether natural or artificial; as clouds of smake, and pillars of fire, for large quantities ; and from inanimate things being com- pared to the actions and other attributes of animals ; thus Cicero, speaking of Clodius says, " The very altars, when they saw that monster fall, seemed to move them- selves, and assert their rights eigainst him." Here the words saw, move, and assert, are metaphors taken from the properties of animals. As to the choice of metaphors, those arc esteemed the finest and strongest, which give life and action to inani- mate things : the reason of which is, because they do as it were invigorate all nature, introduce new forms of beings, and represent their images to the sight, which, of all the senses, is the quickest, most active, and yet the most unwearied. Jletaphors, which are by far the most fruitful of all figures, should on no occasion be too bold and glaring, neither too profuse ; nor should they sink below the dig- nity of what they are designed to answer, but should always be such as are agreeable to the strain of our sentiments. Allegory may be considered a continued metaphor, or a continuation of several tropes in one or more sentences Thus Cicero says : " Fortune provided you no field, in which your virtue could run and display itself;" the 130 TOUNo man's book of knowledoe. words field and run are metaphors taken from corporeal things, and applied to the mind. Allegory was a favourite method of delivering instruc- tion in ancient times : for what we call parables or fables, are no other than allegories. By words and actions attributed to beasts, or inanimate objects, the dispositions of men were figured ; and what we call the moral is the unfigured sense, or meaning of the allegory. Simile or convpa/rison, illustrates a thing by comparing it with some other, to which it bears a resemblance : as when it is said, " The actions of princes are like those great rivers, the course of which every one beholds, but their springs have been seen by few." Similes are gene- rally but weak arguments, though often beautiful and fine ornaments ; they are not so much designed to prove what is doubtful, as to set things in a clear and agreeable light ; and the more exact the agreement is between the things compared, the greater beauty and grace is given to the figure. Metonymy, is the putting one word for another, and is founded on the several relations of cause and effect. When we say, " We have read Milton," the cause is put instead of the effect ; meaning " Milton's works." On the other hand, when it is said, " Gray hairs are honourable," we put the effect for the cause, meaning by " gray hairs," old age. Personification, or the fiction of a person, by which life, action, or speech is attributed to some inanimate object ; as, when we say, '' The ground thirsts for rain," or " The earth smiles with plenty;" "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament sheioeth his handy works." Apostrophe or address, is a turning off from a regular discourse, and addressing some particular person present, or absent, living, or dead, or to inanimate nature, heis something very sublime and solemn in it, which we often meet with in sacred writ ; as, " Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth I for the Lord hath spoken." Antithesis or opposition,, arises from two objects being set in contrast; and moral maxims naturally assume this form as, " If you wish to enrich a person, study not to increase his storei but to diminish his desires." " If ELOftCENCE. 131 jou regulate yonr desires according to the standard of nature, you will never be ]X)or ; if according to the stan- dard of opinion, you will never be rich." Inierregatian, in its literal sense, is merely asking a question ; but it becomes figurative when the same thing may be expressed in a direct manner j and the putting it by way of question gives it much greater life and spirit- Thus Balaam expressed himself to Balak : " The Lord is not man that he should lie, neither the son of man thai he should repent. Hath he said it i and shall he not do it ? Hath he spoken it ? and shall he not make it good?" Exclamations aie the effect of strong emotions of the mind naturally venting themselves by this figure ; such as joy, grief, surprise, admiration, &c., as in Pope's dying Christian to his soul : " Lend, lend your wings ! I mount 1 1 fly ! "O grave! where is thy victory? " O death ! where is thy sting ? Climax is a beautiful kind of repetition, when the word which ends *he first member of a period, begins the se-" cond, and so through each member, till the whole is finished.— ThMe is a great deal of strength, as well as beauty in this figure, where the several steps rise natu- rally, and are closely connected with each other. As in this example : " There is no enjoyment of property -with- out government, no government without a magistrate, no magistrate without obedience, and no obedience where every one acts as he pleases." IV. T%e Arrangement of the different Parts of a Com position. It is necessary that all parts of a speech be placed in their proper order, and united in such a manner, as to render the whole clear in itself, and easy to be understood. A regular arrangement of parts is of the greatest advan- tage to the speaker, as it assists his memory, and carries him through his discourse without tautology or confusion. He ought never to forget that perspicuity of order is as necessary as perspicuity of language. 182 TODKG man's book Of KNOWL£06£. Cicero divided an oration into six parts, namely, the introduction, narration, proposition, confirmation, confu tation, and conclusion : and this is the arrangement usu ally adopted in systems of rhetoric. The simplest division, however, is that recommended by Aristotle in his Rheto- iiC( consisting only of the introduction, the statement o( the subject, its proofs, and the conclusion. There are many excellent speeches, however, where several of these parts are wanting, where the speaker uses DO introduction, as is the case in the first Oration against Cataline, but begins abruptly. There are others which he finds it unnecessary to divide into parts, but enters at once into his subject, and is borne along by the rapid tide of argument, till he reaches his conclusion. As, however, these have always been considered as the constituent parts of a speech, and as in every one some of them must necessarily be found, they properly obtain a place in all systems of rhetoric. In addition to the parts which compose a regular ora- tion, already laid down, there are three other measures remaining, to which orators have recourse; viz. digres- sion, transition, and amplification. Digression, as defined by Cluintilian is, "A going off from the subject we are upon, to some different thing, which may be of service to it." Transition is often used, not only after a digression, but likewise upon other occasions ; it is, '• A form of speech, by which the speeiker in a few words tells his hearers what he has said already." Amplification is not barely a method of enlarging upon a thing, but so as to represent in the fullest and most com- prehensive view, as that it may in the liveliest manner strike the mind and influence the passions. V. Propriety of Delivery and Action. In the delivery of a speech, great judgment is neces- sary ; and there is no part of eloquence which stands more in need of instructions. The orator must be careful to avoid the extremes of awkwardness and affectation ; he must not be inanimate on the one hand, or theatrical on the other. To well regulated tones, emphasis, and ELoaCENCE. 133 pauses, must be united propriety of delivery and action. It is justly remarked by Cicero, that every thought and emotion of the soul have their peculiar expression of voice, features, and gestures ; and the whole body, every variation of the face, and tone of the voice, like the strings of a musical instrument, act agreeably to the im- pulse they receive from the mind. The correspondence of passions and emotions with expression, as is shown in real life, must be attentively observed, and to foUow some good living example will be highly eidvantageous. More Mly to stimulate his exertions, let him advert to the ef- fects which have heen produced by excellence in this branch of art. Was it not the impassioned delivery of Demosthenes, to which his rival iEschines has left such a remarkable and such an honourable testimony, that gave resistless persuasion to his speeches ? Was it not the indignant countenance, the animated tone, and the judicious action of Cicero, which communicated such commanding influence, and powerful weight to his argu- ments, when he confounded the audacious Cataline? And wa-s it not the dignified air, and the persuasive mild- ness of JVIasillon, which added to his religious instruction so much force, when he drew from Louis XIV. a con- fession of the power of sacred eloquence? He who aspires to the character of a good piiblic speak- er, must make judgment the rule of his conduct ; for no attainments can secure reputation without it. Nothing ought to be carried to an extreme ; the flights of imagi- nation must be restrained by discretion, and propriety must give laws to every effort. Thus will he take the surest road to excellence; he will be bold, not rash; se- rious, but not severe; gay, not licentious; copious, without redundance, and sublime, without extravagance or bombast. " Follow nature, is certainly the fundamental law of oratory ; she instructs us to relate a story, to support an argument, to command a servant, to utter exclamations of anger or rage, to pour forth lamentations and sorrows, not only with different tones, but different elevations of voice:" thus we observe the various ways by which nature expresses the several emotions and passions of the human mind ; and every one will acknowledge it to be 12 134 TouNG man's book ov knowledge. of some consequence, that what a man has occasion to do every hour in the day, ought to be done well. In the next place, we shall enumerate some of those parts of elocution which render speaking and reading in- telligible and graceful. These may be comprehended under the following heads; viz. pauses, accent, emphasis, cadence, tone of voice, and gesture. Pauses are rests in speaking or reading, to mark the distinctions of sense ; during which, the speaker is ena- bled to draw breath without inconvenience, and thereby preserve the command of his voice ; without which the sense must always appear confused and obscure, and often be misunderstood. A continued quick utterance, where no other pauses are made, than those necessary for taking breath, is one of the worst faults a speaker or reader can have. The next thing to be regarded in reading is the empha- tis ; and to see that it be always laid on the emphatical word. When we distinguish any particular syllable in a word with as trong voice, it is called accent ; when we thus dis- tinguish any particular word in a sentence, it is called emphasis ; and the word so distinguished, the emphatical word. And the emphatical words (for there are often more than one) in a sentence, are those which carry a weight or importance in themselves, or those on which the sense of the rest depends ; and these must always be distinguished by a fuller and stronger sound of voice, wherever they are found, whether in the beginning, mid- dle, or end of a sentence. Get pl&ce and weSlth, if possible, with grSce ; If not, by iay means, get weilth and plfice.— Pope. In these lines the emphatical words are accented ,* and which they are, the sense will always discover. Here it may not be amiss to observe two or three things. 1. That some sentences are so full and comprehensive, that almost every word is emphatical : For instance, that pathetic expostulation in the prophecy of Ezekiel, Why will ye die t BLO<),UENe£. 13A In this short sentence, every word is emphatical ; and on whichever word you lay the emphsisis, whether the first, second, third, or fourth, it strikes out a different sense, and opens a new subject of moving expostulation. Some sentences are equivocal, as well as some words, that is, contain in them more senses than one; and which is the sense intended, can only be known by observing on what word the emphasis is laid. For instance — Shall you ride to town to-day ? This question is capable of being taken in four different senses, according to the dif- ferent words on which you lay the emphasis. If it be laid on the word yoit, the answer may be, No, but lintend to send my servant in my stead. If the emphasis be laid on the word ride, the proper answer might be, No, I in- tend to walk it. If you place the emphasis on the word town, it is a different question ; and the answer may be. No, for I design to ride into the country. And if the emphasis be laid on the word to-day, the sense is still something different from all these ; and the proper an- swer may be, No, but I shall to-morrow. Of such import- ance sometimes is a right emphasis, in order to determine the proper sense of what we read or speak. But I would observe, The voice must express, as near as may be, the very sense or idea designed to be conveyed by the emphatical word, by a strong, rough, and violent, or a soft, smooth, and tender sound. Thus the different petssions of the mind are to be ex- pressed by a different sound or tone of voice. Love, by a soft, smooth, languishing voice; Anger, by a strong, vehement, and elevated voice ; Joy, by a quick, sweet, and clear voice ; Sorrow, by a slow, flexible, interrupted voice ; Fear, by a dejected, tremulous, hesitating voice ; Courage hath a full, bold, and loud voice; and Per- plexity, a grave, steady, and earnest one. Briefly, in Exordiums the voice should be low ; in JVarrations, dis- tinct; in Reasoning slow; in Persuasion, strong. It should thunder in Anger, soften in Sorrow, tremble in Fear, and melt in Love. The variation of the emphasis must not only distin- guish the various passions described, but the several forms and figures of speech in which they are expressed ; )36 TOUNG MAN'S BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. In a Prosopopoeia, we must change the yoice as the person introduced would. In an Antithesis, one contrary must be pronounced louder than the other. In a Climax, the voice should always rise with it. In Dialogues, it should alter with the parts. In Repetitions, it should be loudest in the second place. Words of quality and distinction, or of praise or dis- praise, must be pronounced with a strong emphasis. Hence, then, it follows, Lastly, That no emphasis at all is better than a wrong or misplaced one ; for that only perplexes, this always misleads, the mind of the hearer. The next thing to be observed is Cadence. This is directly opposite to Emphasis. Emphasis is raising the voice ; Cadence is falling it ; and, when rightly managed, is very musical. But besides a cadence of voice, there is such a thing as cadence of style ; and that is, when the sense being al- most expressed and perfectly discerned by the reader, the remaining words (which are only necessary to complete the period (gently fall of themselves without any empha- tical word among them, And if your author's language be pure and elegant, his cadence of style will naturally direct your cadence of voice. Cadence generally takes place at the end of a sentence, unless it closes with an emphatical word. Every Parenthesis is to be pronounced in cadence ; that is, with a low voice, and quicker than ordinary; that it may not take oflF the attention too much from the sense of the period it interrupts. But all Apostrophes and Prosopopoeias are to be pronounced in Emphasis. The tones and heights of the voice at the close of a sentence ought to be infinitely diversified according to the nature of the discourse, and meaning of the sentence. In plain narrative, and especially in argumentation, the least attention to the manner in which we relate a story, or support an argument in conversation, will shew, that it is more frequently proper to raise the voice, than to fall it at the end of a sentence. Interrogatives, where the speaker seems to expect an answer, should almost always be elevated at the close, with a peculiar tone, to ELOdCENCE. 137 indicate that a question is asked. Some sentences axe so constracted, that the last word requires a stronger empha- sis than any of the preceding; whilst others admit of beins closed with a soft and gentle sound. When there is nothing in the sense which requires the last sound to be elevated or emphatical, an easy fall, suf- ficient to shew that the sense is finished, will be proper: and in pathetic pieces, especially those of the plaintive, tender, or solemn kind, the tone of the passion will often require a still lower cadence of the voice. But before a speaker can be able to fall his voice with propriety and judgment at the close of a sentence, he must be able to keep it from faUing, and to raise it with all the variations which the sense requires. The best method of correcting an uniform cadence, is often to read select sentences, in which the style is pointed, and frequent antitheses are introduced ; and argumentative pieces, or such as abound with interrogatives. Tone of voice teaches us to speak or read so loud as to be heard by those about us, but never higher than the oc- casion requires ; for the extremes of vociferation, to use Shakspeare's phrase, " offend the judicious hearer by tearing a passion into rags:" therefore let caution be used against every extreme. The music of speech con- sists in the variations of the voice ; but these variations must be gradual to render them pleasant, being united with a graceful and expressive delivery. Let the sound be an " echo to the sense;" humour your voice a little according to the nature of the subject, bat, in flain nar- ration, there is no occasion for much variety of tones ; the pauses, the accent, the entphasis, the cadence, are the only things that herein require to be observed. The fun- damental rule to be observed in reading, is, to let the tone of your voice be the same as in speaking : do not affect to change that natural and easy sound wherewith you speak, for a strange, new, awkward tone ; but attend to your subject, and deliver it in the same manner as you would do if you were talking of it. This important rule, if carefully obi«rved, will correct almost all the faults of a bad pronunciation. Gesture may be defined to be the motions of the cotm- 12* 138 TOEING man's book OF KNOWLEDGE. tenance, and several other parts of the body, in speaking and reading. When any passion is raised within us, we discover it by the manner in which we utter our words, by the features of the face, and other well-known signs; for nature her- self has assigned to every motion of the soul its peculiar cast of the countenance, and manner of gesture. And as nature has taught us to express the passions we feel, by certain motions' of the body and countenance, we there- fore should guard against awkward and disagreeable ones ; and endeavour to acquire such as are easy and becoming, keeping the body in a natural, easy, graceful attitude, thereby uniting the expression of action to the propriety of pronunciation, in order to give the sentiment its full impression on the mind. But where no particular emotion is expressed, a serious, firm, and manly look, ia always to be preferred. When we attempt to express any passion, we should copy nature^ and endeavour to feel what imagination is capable of raising in the mind : for, as Cicero observed, " Every motion of the mind has na- turally its peculiar countenance, voice, and gesture ; and, like the strings of an instrument, act agreeably to the iinpressions they receive from the mind." As to the several parts of the body, the head is the most considerable ; to lift it up too high has the air of arrogance and pride ; to stretch it out too far, or throw it back, looks clownish and unmannerly; to hang it down- ward on the breast shews an unmannerly bashfulness and want of spirit ; and to suffer it to lean on either shoulder argues both sloth and indolence. It ought to be kept in its natural upright posture, with easy and gentle move- ment, as occasion may require, that the voice may be heard by all that are present, and then easily return again to its natural position. Nothing is more unbecoming than the violent motions and agitations of the head. Butler ridicules a pretender to knowledge in the following words : — " For having three times shook his head " To stir his wit up, thus he said." Hddibras, But the eyes are the most active ; and all the passions THE FAESIONE. 139 of the soul are expressed in them, in a manner which Oannot possibly be represented by any gesture of the body. In speaking upon pleasant and delightful subjects, the eyes are brisk and cheerful : and, on the contrary, they are languid and faint, in delivering any thing melancholy and sorrowful. This is so agreeable to nature, that, before a person speaks, we are prepared with the expec- tation of one or the other, from his different aspect. As to the hands, they have a great variety of motions. With them, we call, dismiss, threaten, beseech, deny, &c. which seem to be, in all nations and countries, the com- mon symbolical language of mankind. CHAP. V THE PASSIONS. Vaeious theories have been published, by which their authors have endeavoured to elucidate the manner in which the passions are excited in and act upon the soul, the agitation of which is expressed in many different modes by the features and muscles. Indeed, the language of this ethereal and inexpUcable spirit speaks through every fibre, and each passion is known to an indifferent spectator, without the intervention of an explanatory sound. It would seem, from the sudden and involuntary experience of agitation, that the passions were implanted in the soul as centinels watchful for its safety, and that of the person it inhabits. Were this the truth, as some have observed, it might be supposed, that every impulse would be found correct and propers sad conviction, however, proves, it is added, that nothing can be more ill-founded than such a supposition, as not an individual exists at this moment who has not discovered, that he has feared where he ought to have esteemed, hated when he ought to have admired, loved when he ought to have de- tested, and in numerous instances been blinded either by misconceived partiality, or equally unjust prejudice. 140 TOUNG man's book OF KNOWLEDGE. Such, at least, is the decision of unthinking persons ; those, on the contrary, who do justice to the Creator, feel and acknowledge, that the passions are the most correct of centinels, particularly when guided and governed by the superior gift of reason. Origin of the Passions and .Affections. Some of the Affections, besides what are called the natural appetites, are commonly believed to be instinctive, and therefore take the name of natural. Such are the parental, filial, and fraternal affections ; also, the love of truth and virtue. Other affections are evidentiyfactitiotis; such as avarice, friendship, patriotism. The phenomena which countenance the supposition that certain affections are implanted by nature in the human mind, are these : the apparent simplicity, and likewise the strength and vividness of these feelings, together with the diflSculty and supposed impossibility of tracing them to any other cause : also, the assumed universality and general uniformity of such affections in the human species. It is, however, a presumption against this supposition of a double origin of the affections, that feelings so simi- lar in their nature and effects should be so unlike in their origin. The general rule of philosophising is, that phenomena of the same kind are to be traced up to to the same cause. Association is the acknowledged cause of some of the affections, therefore probably of all. The affections are states of considerable pleasure or pain; they are evidently excited by external objects; but these, excepting in the case of impressed sensations, can only affect us by consultation : therefore all the affections are the result of association. Successive impressions, pleasing or painful, are made upon tte mind by the objects of the affection ; the coa- lescence of these impressions constitutes the affection either of love or hatred, according to the predominance either of pleasing or painful ideas ; the affection thus formed is modified by the circumstances of probable or improbable, past, present, future, and the like ; and is as- sociated with the sensation of the object, with thd idea, THE PASSIONS. 141 with the name, and with a variety of accidental circum- Etances. We love our friends: this affection is composed of complacency and good-will. We think upon them with complacency, because they possess many virtues, because they have been the immediate cause of many pleasing sensations and recollections, because their idea is associ- ated with many other pleasures than those which they tiave directly produced; we desire their happiness from a sense of gratitude, from the delight we take in seeing them happy, from the conviction that the greater their happiness is, the greater will be their capacity for com- municating happiness to others, &c. These feelings coalesce into a complex and vivid affection : we call it friendship : it associates itself with the persons of our friends, with their idea, with their name, and with many circumstances naturally or fortuitously connected with them. A child is continually receiving marks of kindness from his father : these produce complacency, and by reciprocating expressions of complacency, benevolence is generated. The parent sometimes contradicts the will of the child, sometimes expresses displeasure, sometimes corrects and chastises him. This produces fear. Com- placency, benevolence, and fear, combined together, con- stitute filial reverence and affection. If the parent is wise, and maintains in his conduct a just medium between indulgence and severity, the filial affection generated thereby is of the most perfect kind, and pro- ductive of the best effects of filial duty and mutual happiness. If indulgence predominates, the child be- comes a prey to ungovernable passions and self-will; and as he advances to maturity, seeing the folly of his parent, and feeling its pernicious effects, filial affection degene- rates into contempt. If severity is the character of the father, fe,ir and aversion will be the inevitable feeling of the child : and the bai^h and unkind parent will in vain look for the attentions of a dutiful and affectionate family to soothe the infirmities of declining years. In a similar way, it would be easy to analyse the con- jugal, parental, and fraternal affections, patriotism, or the love of one's country, benevolence, the love of truth and 142 tOUNG MANS BOOK or KNOWLEDGE- virtue, the love of God, &c. ; and thus to prove that all the affections of the human mind are the effects of asso* ciation, and not of instinct. That the affections are very complex feelings, though apparently simple, is evident from the precedmg analysis. What the elements are which combine to constitute an affection in any given case, and in what proportion they are blended together, is very difficult, if not impossible, to ascertain. Impressions which are the elements of filial and frater nal affection, and the love of truth and virtue, and the like, are made upon the mind before the memory begins to record its ideas : hence these affections are regarded as having a peculiar claim to the character of naturaL The universality of parental affection seems to have gained it the character of instinctive. But the transfer of the mutual affection of the parents to their infant ofepring seems sufficient to account for the origin of the affection ; while the helplessness of the infant, the hopes of the parent, and a multitude of other circumstances which it is unnecessary, and would indeed be tedious to enumerate, easily explain the growth and strength of parental affection. Classification of the Passions and Affections. Affections are modifications of pleasure and pain, aris- ing from the perception of natural good or evil, according to the circumstances in which they occur to the notice of the mind. They are sometimes called passions^ as opposed to actions ; the latter being perfectly voluntary, the former not being immediately dependent on the will. Dr. Cogan makes a curious, and, perhaps a just dis- tinction between passion, emotion, and affection. Passion is the first feeling of which the mind is conscious, from some impulsive cause by which it is wholly acted upon, without any efforts of its own, either to solicit or to escape the impression. Emotions are the sensible effects pro- duced by the impetus of the passions upon the corporeal system. Affections signify the less violent, more delibe- rate, and more permanent impressions, whether pleasing THE PASSIORS. 143 Of painful, whether of a benevolent or malevolent cha> racter. The primaryi or general passions, according to Dr. Hartley's distribution of them, are ten: five gratefiil, and five ungratefiil. Of the five grateful passions, the first is late, which arises from the contemplation of good in the abstract.— 2. Desire, which is love excited so as to put us upon action. — 3. Hope, which arises from the probatelity of attaining absent good. 4. Joy, from the possession (rf'the present good. — ^And, 5, Pleasing recollection, which takes place when the object is withdrawn, and keeps up love to it. The five ungrateful primary passions corresponding with the five grateful ones, and excited by the perception of evil in similar circumstances, are haired, aversion, that is, active hatred./effirj grief, and displeasing reeollection. The affections are arranged by Dr. Hartley, under six general classes, viz. imagination, ambition, self-interest, sympathy, theopathy, and the moral sense. First, the pleasures and pains of imagination : thes6 arise from the perception of natural or artificial beauty or deformity, and are distinguished into seven kinds: — • 1. Those pleasures which arise from the beauty of the natural world. — 2. From the works of art. — 3. From the liberal arts of music, painting, and poetry. ^-4. From the eciences.^-5. From beauty of person. — 6. From wit and humour. — 7. The pains which arise from gross absurdity, inconsistency, or deformity. Secondly, the pleasures and pains of ambition, which arise from the opinions of others concerning us ; the sense of honour and of shame. These respect, \. External advajiiages or disadvantages ; the principal of these are fine clothes, ribhes, titles, and high birth ; with their opposites, rags, poverty, obscurity, and low birth. — % Bodily perfeetioTis and imperfections ; these are beauty, strength and health ; or deformity, imbecility, and disease 3. Intellectual accomplishments and defects: these are sagacity, memory, invention, wit, learning; and their opposites, folly, dulness, and ignorance.---4. Virtue and vice ; namely, piety, benevolence, courage, temperance, chastity, humility ; and the rices contrary to them. 144 YOUNO man's book of knowledge. Thirdly, The pleasures and pains of self-interest; arising from the possession or want of the means of hap- piness ; and security from, or subjection to, the hazards of misery. Self-interest is of three kinds. — 1. Gross self- interest, or the cool pursuit of the means whereby the pleasures of sensation, imagination, and ambition, are to be attained, and their pains avoided ; of this the chief species is the love of money. — 2. Refined self-interest, or the deliberate pursuit of the means that relate to the pleasures and pains of sympathy, theopathj', and the moral sense ; when religion, virtue, and benevolence, are practised with an explicit view to our own happiness.^ 3. Rational self-interest, or the pursuit of the greatest pos- sible happiness, v^ithout any possible partiality to this or that kind of happiness, means of happiness, &c. This is the same thing with the abstract desire of happiness and aversion to misery, which is not, however, a univer- sal affection, though commonly believed to be such. The hopes and fea» relating to a future state, or to death, are of this kind. 1. Those by which we rejoice at the happiness of others; these are sociality, benevolence, generosity, grati- tude. — Sociality is the pleasure we take in the company and conversation of others, and particularly of our friends and acquaintance, and is attended with affability, com- plaisance, and candour. In children it is generated by the preponderance of pleasure which they receive from, or in company with, others, and the same cause generally operates to produce the same effects through life. Bene- volence is that pleasing affection which engages us to promote the welfare of others to the best of our power. I , rises from sources similar to sociality, and it is cherished by the high degree of esteem annexed to it, and the advantages it produces. Generosity is an affection v/hich disposes us to forego great pleasures, or to endure great pains, for the benefit of others : it is benevolence in a high degree. — Gratitude is benevolence exercised towards a benefactor. 2. Those by which we grieve for the misery of others; these are compassion and mercy. Compassion is the un- easiness which a man feels at the misery of another. It is generated in children by those expressions of pain in THE PASSIONS. 145 otheis which excite simDar feelings in themselves; by the pains taken to excite the sympathy of children, when parents, attendants, and others, are suffering; by the restraints they often undergo from the uneasinesses and pairis of others: and in adults, it is confirmed by irritability of nerves, by great similar trials and afflic- tions, by benevolence to suflfering firiends, by the esteem and praise annexed to it, and the like. Mercy is compas- sion exercised to an object that has forfeited his title to the continuance of happiness, or to the removal of misery, by some demerit, particularly against ourselves. 3. Those by which we rejoice at the misery of others; these are moroseness, anger, revenge, jesilousy, cruelty, and malice. Moroseness, peevishness, and severity, arise from whatever makes disagreeable impressions upon the mind, while our fellow-creatures, or their ideas, are pre- sent with us. Anger is a sudden start of passion, by which men wish and endeavour harm to others. Revengt rejoices in it when done. Anger is generated by the desire to prevent harm to ourselves, which leads us to threaten it to others, to desire their harm, and so to inflict it ; but in proportion as a correct moral sense gains its influence over us, anger is restricted to voluntary agents who intentionally injure us, and proportioned to the degree of injury received. Malice deliberately wishes the misery of others. Craelty delights in the view and infliction of it, without the consideration of injury re- ceived. These are habits of mind. They originate in anger indulged and gratified, and are most apt to rise in the minds of the proud, the selfish, and the timorous. Jealousy arises from the suspicion of a riveil in the affee- tions of a person of the other sex. It is a species of anger. 4. Those affections by which we grieve for the happi- ness of others, are emulation and envy. These arise from the eager desire of riches, honour, power, &c. which leads us to think, that our happiness is diminished by what others enjoy. 5. The pleasures and pains of theopathy, or those which arise from the contemplation of God, of his attributes, and of our relation to him. These are love and fear. Iiove is associated with gratitude, confidence, and resignation. It is produced by the contemplation of divine bounty aad 13 146 TouNO man's book of knowledge. benignity; and it is supported and increased by the oonsciousness of upright intentions, the hope of future reward, by prayer, conversation, and contemplation. The love of God rises in part from interested motives ; but when all the sources of it coalesce, it becomes as disinte- rested as any other affection, and. may rise to such a height as to prevail over all other desires, interested or disinterested. Enthusiasm is a mistaken persuasion of any person that he is a peculiar favourite with God, and that he recraves supernatural marks thereof. It is a degeneration of love. The fear of God arises from a view of the evils of life, the threatenings of scripture, the sense of guilt, the infinity of the divine attributes, from prayer, meditation, and the like. When restrained within proper limits, it is awe and reverence; when excessive, or not duly regarded, it degenerates into superstition, or atheism. Sv/perstition is a mistaken opinion concerning the severity and punishments of God, magnifying these in respect of ourselves or others. Atheism is speculative or practical. Speculative atheism denies the existence of God. Practical atheism is the neglect of God ; think- ing of him seldom and with reluctance; disregarding him in actions, though not denying him in words. Both kinds may be supposed oflen to proceed from a sense of guilt, and consequent fear of God, producing aversion to him. 6, The pleasures and pains of the moral sense, excited by the contemplation of moral beauty and deformity^— The moral sense is the disinterested approbation of piety, benevolence, and self government in ourselves and others, and the correspondent disapprobation of vice. It is the result of education and mental discipline ; it leads to the pitre love of God and the practice of universal virtue. — Senipulositt/ is a degeneration of the moral sense, which arises from a consciousness of guilt, and an erroneous method of reasoning. !tAT0ilA£ AND tiXtattlHfiRTAI. f HILOgOPHT. 147 CHAP. VL NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PHlLOSOPat. NA-tinkj, philosophy is commonly defined to be that art or science which considers the powers and properties of natural bodies, and their mutual actions on each other. Moral Philosophy relates to whatever concerns the mind and intellect ; natv,rcd philosophy on the other hand, is onlj concerned with the material part of the creation. "The Moralist's business is to inquire into the nature of virtue, the causes and effects of vice, to propose remedies for it, and to point out the mode of attaining happiness. The Naturalist, on the contrary, has nothing to do with spirit; bis business is confined to body or matter. The business of natural philosophy, then, is to collect the his- tory of the phenomena which takes place amongst natured things, viz. amongst the bodies of the universe ; to inves- tigate their causes and effects ; and thence to deduce such natural laws, as may afterwards be applied to a variety of useful purposes. Natural things means all bodies ; and the assemblage or system of them all is called the universe. The word phenomenon signifies an appearance, or in a more enlarged acceptation, whatever is perceived by our senses. Thus the fall of a stone, the evaporation of water, the solution of sfjt in water, a flash of lightning, and so on ; all are phenomena. As all phenomena depend on propertie' peculiar to different bodies ; for it is the property of a ^stone to fall to- wards the earth, of the water to evaporate, of the suit to be soluble in water, &c. therefore we say that the business of natural philosophy is to examine the properties of the various bodies of the universe, to investigate their causes, and thence to infer useful deductions. By natural causes are to be understood the means by which things come at first to have their being or exist- ence : thus Grod is the cause of all created beings, because from him they receive their being : and hence Grod is called by way of pre-cdkiilenCfe tTaa first ox primary ca%se of all things. 148 V0UN6 man's book of knowledge. Secondary causes are those which produce their effecta according to the established and original laws and rules, implanted in their natures at their first creation by God, the primary cause ; of all other causes he is the original cause; and consequently they, with regard to the^M^ cause, can be only properly termed secondary causes : so the sun causeth vapours; and vapours cause clouds; and clouds condensed cause rain ; rain causeth springs ; rivers, vegetation, &c. but yet they all act in a secondary manner, under the original influence of the first cause as aforesaid. An effect is whatever is produced or brought to pass by the action or operation of any natural cause : thus vapours are the efiect of the sun's attraction ; ice is the effect of a cold air-; visibility the effect of light, &c. &o. The application and uses of natural philosophy, or the advantages which mankind may derive therefrom, will be easily suggested by a very superficial examination of whatever takes place about us. The properties of the air we breathe: the action and power of our limbs; the light, the sound, and other perceptions of our senses ; the ac- tions of the engines that are used in husbandry, naviga- tion, &c. ; the vicissitudes of the seasons, the movements of the celestial bodies, and so forth ; do all fall under the, consideration of the philosopher. Our welfare, our very existence, depends upon them. The axioms of philosophy, or the axioms which have been deduced from common and constant experience, are so evident and so generally known, that it will be sufii- cient to mention a few of them only. 1. Nothing has no property ; hence, 2. No substance, or nothings can be produced from nothing. 3. Matter cannot be annihilated, or reduced to nothing. 4. Every effect has, or is produced by, a cause, and is proportionate to it. It may in general be observed, with respect to those axioms, that we only mean to assert what has been con- stantly shewn, and confirmed by experience, and is not contradicted either by reason, or by any experiment. But we do not mean to assert that they are as evident as the axioms of geometry; nor do we in the least presume to prescribe limits to the agency of the Almighty Creator NATURAL AND EXFERIMGNTAL PHILOSOPHY. 149 of every thing, whose power and whose ends are too far removed from the reach of our understandings. Having stated the principal axioms of philosophy, it is in the next place necessary to mention the rules of philoso- phizing, which have been formed after mature considera- tion, for the purpose of preventing errors as much as possible, and in order to lead the student of nature along the shortest and safest way, to the attainment of true and useful knowledge. Those rules are not more than four, viz. 1 . We are to admit no more causes of natural things, than such as are both true and sufficient to explain the appearances. — 2. Therefore, to the same natural effects we must, as far as possible, assign the same causes. — 3. Such qualities of bodies as are not capable of increase or decrease, and which are found to belong to all bodies within the reach of our experiments, are to be esteemed the universal qualities of all bodies whatever. — 4. In experimental phi- losophy we are to look upon propositions collected by general induction from phenomena, as accurately or very nearly true, notwithstanding any contrary hypo- thesis that may be imagined, till such time as other phenomena occur, by which they either may be cor- rected, or may be shewn to be liable to exceptions. With respect to the degree of evidence which ought to be expected in natural philosophy, it is necessary to remark, that phj'sical matters cannot be in general capable of such absolute certainty as the branches of mathematics. The propositions of the latter science are clearly deduced from a set of axioms so very simple and evident, as to convey perfect conviction to the mind ; nor can one of them be denied without a manifest absurdity. But, in natural philosophy, we can only say, that because some particular effects have been constantly produced under certain circumstances; therefore they will most likely continue to be produced as long as the same circumstances exist ; and likewise that they do, in all probability, depend upon those circumstances. Provi- dence acts iDy determinate laws in all the arrangements of nature. It is not by chance, nor yet by an arbitrary disposal of things, that the operations of nature are affected. By the Divine wisdom all things are disposed 13* 150 rouNG man's book of knowledce. in weight and in measure ; they are ordered on certain principles, and effected in certain constant and regular modes. These modes, in which the Divine wisdom acts and governs the material universe, are termed the laws of nature. We cannot, it is true, account for every thing ; we cannot trace effects to their remotest causes ; but yet much is known by the long observation, and the dis- coveries of learned and ingenious men from time to time. They have therefore reduced what they call the laws of nature, that is, the manner in which the operations of nature are affected, to a few principles, and these prin- ciples, when well understood, will apply to the explana- tion of a long series of phenomena. It is by experiment that all the great discoveries of the moderns have been accomplished. This, indeed, forms the grand line of distinction between the ancient and modern philosophy, and this constitutes the sole merit and superiority of the latter. The ancients reasoned and conjectured about things ; the moderns have submitted every thing to the direct and positive test of experience ; this philosophy has therefore been termed experimental philosophy, because all its doctrines and principles are founded upon actual experiment, in opposition to that philosophy which is founded on fancy and conjecture. Of Elements, or the First Principles of Bodies. To philosophize, is to observe minutely, and with attention; to be not satisfied with a superhcial view of the appearances of things, but to examine into their causes. One of the first inquiries that strikes a reflecting mind is, "What are the different objects 1 see about me made of ? What is this hard substance of which rocks and stones are composed ? What is water ? What is air ?" A word has been invented to express the substance of every thing that is an object of our senses; that is, Matter ; and matter and material things are used in oppO' sitioA to spirit, at spiritual things, which are not objects either of our sight or hearing : thus the human body is matter, but the soul is a spirit. We are not, however, hastily to conclude that.all this matter, which enters into MATUaAL AND EXFERIMBNTAL FHILOSOFBT. 151.. the composition of things, is originally or radically the same ; such an idea was once entertained by some of the old philosophers, but we have no experiments to warrant such a conclusion. To find out, if possible, the different kinds of matter which enter into the composition of bodies, recourse has been had to what is called chemical analysis; that is, the different bodies or substances have been dissolved by the aid of heat and moisture into their different parts, and these parts have been separated, and again ex- amined. Wonderful discoveries have resulted from these experiments. The hardest and most solid bodies have been changed into air orvapour; for instance, the diamond itself. Hard and solid stones have been found to consist partly of lime, partly of iron, and partly of some other earth. Water has been decomposed, and found to consist of two aeriform fluids : and these have again been united, by another process, into their original state of water. The original principles or particles of bodies have been called elements, which is derived from a Greek word, sig- nifjring to (create. Elements are, therefore, those principles or particles of which bodies are created or formed. The ancients supposed only four elements, from which they imagined all the different bodies in the universe were formed. These were fire, air, earth and water. But since modern philosophy has analysed or divided different bodies or substances into their constituent parts, we have been obliged to adopt a different arrangement ; and, in- stead of one kind of earth, we find there are at least four or five kinds, essentially different from each other, besides that metals and salts are not earth. The air we breathe we find to be a compound of two different fluids, as well as water. When cTiemical analysis has been pushed to its utmost extent, and bodies have been subdivided as minutely as possible, we are warranted in calling those principles, ivhich we cannot further analyse or separate, elementary principles. They are the minutest particles of matter we are capable of observing ; and whether they are in fact susceptible of further subdivision or not, whether they are .ample or poiqpouiid, it is sa^isfactorj to know t^at we 158 TODNG man's book OF ENOWLEDOE. have discovered a few substances from which all other bodies are compounded or derived. The substances which philosophers have hitherto been unable to decompound, and which therefore, in the pre- sent state of science, we are justified in terming elemen- tary, are the following : 1st. Fire. Including light and the electric fluid. 2d. Dxjrgen. This in the aeriform state, has been called pure, vital, or dephlogisticated air. It gives the acid character to saline or vegetable bodies when united with them ; and, when united with metals, gives them the caliform or cinderJike appearance, when the metalic lustre is destroyed ; such is their state in the ore. 3d. Hydrogen. This, in the aeriform state, is called inflammable air; and being lighter than the common air, has been used to inflate air balloons. United with oxy- gen, it forms pure water. 4th. Azote, which, in the aeriform state has been called phlogisticated or-iiripure air. It forms about three- fourths of our common air, and is that part of it which is left after animals have breathed in a glass or receiver of air, or after a candle has ceased to burn in it. Condensed into a flui^, with a certain portion of oxygen, it becomes nitrous acid or aqua fortis. 5th. Phosphorus. A substance well known, and which, united with oxygen, produces phosphoric acid. 6th. Coal., jCharcoal is the purest state in which this substance is found ; our common pit-coal being usually united with other matter. In the aeriform state, coal becomes what is called fixed air, or choke-damp. It is in fact, the principal material in the composition of all vegetable substances. 7th. Sulphur, which combined with oxygen, forms Tltrioli(^ acid, oil or spirit of vitrjipl. 8th. Muriatic salt, or the radical matter of common salt. In the state of common salt it is united not only with a certain portion of oxygen, but with an alkali. When simply united with oxygen, it is called the acid of sea salt, muriatic acid, spirit of sea-salt, &c. 9th. Fluor, or the radical matter of the beautiful fluor spar. , idth. Borax, or the radical matter of the salt used by NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. L53 braziers, tinmen, &c. for soldering, and known by that name. nth. The alkalies. The name alkali was derived from one of those substances called the mineral alkali, being produced from the ashes of a marine plant called kali : it is also found in the earth in a mineral state in some parts of the world. The other, the vegetable alkali, is commonly known by the name of potash, and is ob- tained from the ashes of any vegetable matter. 12th. Earths, which are at least of five different kinds. 13th. Metals, which are about seventeen in number. These we are, in the present state of philosophical knowledge authorised in considering as simple or ele- mentary substances. They are usually found in a state of combination ; the first six chiefly enter into the com- position of animal and vegetable bodies, the latter abound most in the mineral world. 1st. Fire. That this is a fluid of a peculiar kind can no longer be doubted, since it has all the properties of a fluid. It is perceptible to our senses only in a disengaged or active state : that is, in passing from one body to another: it is, however, diffused very copiously throughout nature. By its elastic nature it is the cause of all fluidity, and in- deed, was it not for the influence of this subtle fluid, the whole matter of the universe, there is reason to believe, would be condensed into a solid mass. Thus it is obvious, that by withdrawing a certain portion of its natural heat from water, that fluid becomes . a natural body, and is converted into ice. But the general effects of fire, in the economy of nature, are so important, that it will be necessary to treat of them under a distinct head. 2d. Oxygen. In the aeriform state this substance is found uncombined with any other matter than that por- tion of elementary fire which is necessary to keep it in the aeriform state, or in the state of an elastic fluid ; for all fluids are such only by agency of fire, which keeps the particles separate, and prevents their settling into a solid mass. In this state it constitutes about one-fourth part of the air of our atmosphere, and it is called pure, or vital air, because it is the only part which will support flame, or animal life ; for, if a quantity of common air be in- U'54 TOUNG man's BOOK OF EMOWLEDOE. cldied in a close vessel, such as a bell-glass, or the receiver of an air-pump, we will find, as soon as the pure air is consumed, a candle will go out in it, nor can an animal any longer breathe or exist in it. There is another very extraordinary property of oxygen (from ■which, indeed, it has derived its present name oxus signifying, in Gieek, sharp or acid,) and that is, tha.t it is the matter which gives the acid character to all other substances, which are susceptible of that property. — Thus, if common sulphur or brimstone, which we all know is in itself not aeid or sour, is burnt in pure or oxygen air, or in common air, (in which case it im- bibes all the pure part of it) it is converted into vitriolic acid. — The same is the process in making vinegar. Beer, wine, or sugar and water, alt which have a strong attraction for oxygen, are exposed to the air, and, by imbibing the pure part of it, or the oxygen, a sour liquor 13 gradually produced. The metals, by uniting with oxygen, are deprived of their Idstre, and assume the appearance of a calx or cin- der ; thus iron becomes rusty, that is, in effect, calcined, (for rust is a calx of iron,) by being exposed to air or water, from which it attracts the oxygen. In this state most of the metals are found in the bowels of the earth, and are called ores. From the calces of some of the metals, oxygen air may be obtained, chiefly by the appli- cation of heat. 3d. Hydrogen has received its name from the Greek hydor, water, being the chief constituent of that fluid. — Water is indeed composed of rather, more than three parts of oxygen and one of hydrogen. In an aeriform state hy- drogen constitutes inflammable air, or gas, and is obtained for the purpose of filling air balloons, &c. by any process which decomposes water. Thus, when water is made to pass through a tube of iron made red hot, such as a gun-barrel, the oxygen is absorbed by the iron, which is then calcined, and the hydrogen is disengaged, and comes forth in the form of inflammable air or gas. Hydrogen enters pretty largely into the composition of all animal and vegetable bodies, particularly the former; with coaly water it forms oil, and all the animal and vegetable oils consist of different proportions of charcoal and hydro- NATURAL AND EXFEBIMCKTAL EHILOSOPHY. Ifio gen. With azote it constitutes that well known substance, ammoniac, volatile alkali, or spirit of hartshorn. 4th. Azote, which derives its name from the Greek par- ticle a, signifying /row, and zoe, life, signifying that it takes away life, or, more properly, that it does not sustain it, is one of the most abundant elements in nature. In its aeriform state, when it is called azotic gas by the French philosophers, it constitutes about two-thirds of t^e air we breathe. When oxygenated, or combined with oxygen, it forms nitrous acid, or aqua fortis. It composes no inconsiderable part of animal; and vegetable bodies, from which it may be drawn by a chemical process ; and the quantity of ammoniac ox volatile alkali, which in putrefaction is emitted by these substances, and which is the chief cause of their foetid and disagreeable smell in that state, is formed by an union of the hydrogen and azote which they contain. 5th. Phosphorus is chiefly obtained from animal sub- stances ; it is now procured by a chemical process froni bones. It however, exists in some mineral bodies, v It has so strong an attraction for oxygen, that its sponta- neous inflammation and combustion is entirely owing to this circumstance. All aerial substances are kept in that .state by the matter of fire, which is combined with thein, and which separates their particles, which float in a kind of fiery atmosphere. When phosphorus, therefore, is ex- posed to the air, the oxygen, which then exists in the state of pure air, or oxygen gas, is attracted by it, and condensed, and consequently the fire which is combined ■with it is let loose, and becomes active and obvious to our senses. 6th. Coal exists, we observed, in a pure state only in charcoal. It is, in fact, the great constituent of all vege- table matter, and common pit coal is wood or other vege- tables which have been buried in the earth by the general deluge, or by some other great convulsion of nature. It is, however, from these circumstances, necessarily com- bined with some mineral substances, such as sulphur, which it has got from its situation in the mines from whence.it is extracted; charcoal,,,on ihe contrary, is the matter as it existed in the substance of the wood or vege- table which contained it^ the extraneous matter being 166 TouRO han'b book of knowledge. driven off by the heat which is employed in preparing' it. The whole of a piece of charcoal may be converted into fixed air, called carbonic acid gas by the French philo- sophers, which proves sufficiently that fixed air is nothing but charcoal united with the oxygea, which is derived from the air. 7th. Sulphur, or brimstone, is a well known substance. It chiefly exists in the mineral world, and abounds most in the neighbourhood of volcanos. It is a very com- bustible substance, because it has a very strong attraction for the oxygen which is contained in the atmosphere, and which being imbibed by the sulphur in combustion, the fire with which it was united in that state is set free. Sulphur unites with the ores of most metals. The crude antimony of the shops, is antimony and sulphur ; and that beautiful substance called pyrites, mundic or Irish diamond, is a combination of sulphur and iron. 8th. Muriatic matter, or the radical substance of sea- salt, is not yet known to exist in an uncombined state. — United with oxygen, it forms marine acid, or spirit of salt, which again united with an alkali, forms our com- mon salt. 9th. Fluor also is not found in an uncombined state. — It is united with oxygen to form the fluor acid, which again united with lime, constitutes that beautiful sub- stance termed fluor spar, or Derbyshire spar. 10th. Borax resembles the two former substances, in not being found in a pure and simple state. The borax used in commerce, is a compound salt formed from the horacic acid, which necessarily supposes an union with oxygen and one of the alkalies. 11th. The alkalies, called potash and soda, we have spoken of in a preceding part of our work. 12th and 13th. Of the earths and minerals we have also treated under a preceding head. Of Matter, and its Properties. In general, we may define matter to be, every being that acts upon our senses, either immediately, or by the perceptible effects it produces upon other bodies. Every species of matter that has hitherto come under NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 157 our observation, "has been found to possess the following characteristics, or properties ; and, therefore, we are perhaps justifiable in considering them as belonging to all bodies whatever, viz. solidity, or impenetratibility, divisibility, and mobility. Some species of bodies have other qualities, which are not common to all, and per- haps matter in general possesses properties which we are yet ignorant of. We do not here consider solidity 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. By solidity, or impenetratibility, in common language, is understood the property of not being easily separated into parts, and therefore we must be careful not to confound this meaning of the term with the property we have just mentioned. Divisibility is that property by which matter is ca- pable of being separated into parts, which may be removed from each other. This divisibility is evident in bodies of a sensible mag- nitude ; every one knows that they may be divided into two, four, ten, or a thousand parts ; nor can we ever, by subdividing, arrive at a part so small, but we can con- ceive that it consists of two halves. But how far this actual division can be carried, whether to infinity, as some suppose, or whether we should at last amve at ultimate atoms, or particles, which, from their nature, are not capable of subdivision, is a point upon which much has been said, but which has not yet determined. However this may be, the actual division of matter can be carried to an amazing and inconceivable extent. A grain of gold is hammered by the gold-beaters until it is tho thirty-thousandth part of a line in thickness, and will cover 50 square inches. Each square inch may be divided into 200 strips, and each strip into 200 parts, each of which may be seen by the eye ; consequently, a square inch contains 40,000 visible parts, which multi- plied by 50, the number of square inches which a grain of gold will make, gives 2,000,000 parts, which may be seen with the naked eye. A still more striking instance is afforded by the manu- facture of gold-lace. In makirg this, they gild a bar of U ids YOUNG man's book OF KNOVVXEDOB. silver, and afterwards draw it out into wire, by passing it successively through holes of various magnitudes, in plates of steels By this means the surface is prodigiously augmented, notwithstanding which, it remains gilded, so as to preserve an uniform appearance, even when exami- ned by the microscope. It has been calculated, that sixteen ounces of gold, which, if in the form of a cube, would not measure one inch and a quarter in its side, will completely gild a quantity of silver wire, sufficient to circumscribe the whole globe of the earth. Mobility . means that property by which matter is capable of being moved from one part of space to another. Space is only an abstract idea ; and can be described only by its want of properties. Space has no limits or bounds ; it consists of parts, which may be divided by the mind, but are not capable of actual separation from each other, and it cannot afford any resistance to bodies moving through it. Being perfectly uniform in all its parts, it is impossible to distinguish them from each other, but by the bodies placed in them. Extension has been by some considered as a distinguish- ing property of matter ; but as space is also extended, this cannot be reckoned a characteristic. Besides these, matter possesses a property, which is called inertia, or inactivity ; by which it would always continue in whatever state it was put, whether of rest or motion, unless prevented by some external force. That matter can begin to move of itself, after being at rest,, no one can suppose ; but it does not appear so evident that it has a tendency to continue in motion for ever. IMost people are apt to suppose that all matter has a propensitj' to fall from'a state of motion into a state of rest ; because we see all the motions upon the earth gradually decay, and at last totally cease. But this is owing to the resistance of the air, and to friction ; for if these are diminished, the body will move longer, and if they could be removed altogether, the body would continue for ever in motion. If a man be standing in a boat while it is pushed oflF from the shore, he will be in danger of failing backwards, but he will gradually acquire the motion of the boat ; and if it be suddenly stopped, he will fall forwards, because NATURAL AND <£XFEBIHENTAL FUILOaOPHr. 159 his tendency will then be to continue in the same state of motion. Innumerable instances of the same kind, in common life, may be observed. Matter also possesses powers of attraction and repul- sion, which we shall consider. Of AttraetioTt. By attraction we mean the tendency that bodies have to approach each other. And first, in elucidation of this subject, if you throw a stone, or shoot an arrow into the air, instead of proceeding according to the direction in which you send it, you see its force is quickly spent, and it returns to the earth with a velocity or swiftness propor- tioned to its bulk or weight. Now it is easy to conceive, that the resistance of the air may stop it in its progress ; but why should it return ? Why should not the resistance of the air stop or impede it in its return ? The answer you will think very plain — It is its weight that brings it back to the earth, you will say, and it fall^ because it is a heavy body. But what is weight ? Or why is it heavy ? It is, in truth, the earth which draws or attracts the stone or the arrow towards it; this over- comes the force with which you sent it from you at first, and the resistance which the air would otherwise make to its falling. To make this plainer, if you drop a little water, or any other liquid, on a table, and place upon the liquid a piece of foaf sugar, you will see the water or fluid ascend, or in vulgar language, be sucked up into the pores of the sugar ; that is, the one is attracted by the other. Again, if you take two"leaden bullets, and pare a piece oflF the side of each, and make the surface, where you have taken off the piece, exceedingly smooth, and then press the two balls together, you will find them adhere strongly to- gether, that is, they are mutually attracted by each other. If you take a piece of sealing wax, or amber, with a smooth surface, and rub it pretty quickly upon your woollen stocking till it gets warm, you will find that if straws, feathers, hairs, or any very light bodies, are brought within the distance of from an inch to half an inch of it, these light bodies will be drawn to the sealing 160 YOUNG man's BOOK OP KNOWLEDGE, wax or amber, and will adhere to it. Thus, in philoso- phical language, they are attracted by it. This last effect is very similar to what maybe observed of the magnet or loadstone, or what is frequently per- formed by the little artificial magnets, which are com- monly sold, and which afford a very rational and pretty amusement to young persons. But what is a still more surprising effect of attraction, if we take two phial bottles, which we number 1 and 2, fill each of them with a fluid perfectly colourless ; we see they appear like clear water ; on mixing them together, we will opserve the mixture become perfectly black. We take another phial, No. 3, which contains also a colour- less fluid, and we pour it into this black liquor, which again becomes, we see, perfectly clear, except a little sediment which remains at bottom. Lastly, we take the phial. No. 4, containing also a liquid clear like water, and by adding a little of it, the black colour we see is restored. All this appears like magic, but it is nothing more than the effect of attraction. Philosophy keeps no secrets, and we will explain it. The colourless liquor in the phial, No. 1, is water in which, bruised galls have been steeped or infused ; that in No. 2 is a solution of copperas, ' (called by chemists sal martis, salt of steel) in plain terms, it is water in which common copperas, or green vitriol, is dissolved. The iron which this salt (green vitriol) contains, has a strong attraction for the gall water; and when they are mixed together they unite, and the mixture becomes black; in fact, is made into ink. But when the phial. No. 3, which contains aqua fortis (or the nitrous acid, as it is called by chemists,) is poured in, the iron, which has a stronger attraction for it than for the galls, unites with it, and having left the galls, the liquid is again clear. Again, the phial No. 4, contains salt of wormwood in a fluid state, which the chemists call an alkali. The aqua fortis is nitrous acid, therefore has a stronger attraction for this alkaline matter than it has for the iron ; it therefore drops the iron, which again unites with the matter of the galls, and you see the fluid resume its black complexion. These several kinds of attractions, which we have now NATURAL AND EXPKBIMENTAI- PHILOSOPHY. 161 mentionecl, philosophers have arranged under five distinct heads. The first, that we mean, of the stone or arrow- falling to the ground, they have called the attraction of gravity, or gravitation. The second, that of the two leaden balls adhering together, and of the water ascend- ing into the pores of the sugar, they call the attraction of cohesion, and also capillary attraction. The third is electrical attraction, because the sealing-wax, when chafed or warmed by rubbing against your stocking, is in an electrified or excited state, like the glass cylinder of an electrical machine when rubbed against the cushion, and therefore attracts the hair, feathers, &c. The fourth is the magnetic attraction; and the fifth is called chemical attraction, or the attraction of combination, because upon it many of the processes and experiments in chemistry depend; and because by this means most of the combina- tions which we observe in salts, the ores of metals, and other mineral bodies are effected. On the two first of these species of attraction only, we shall at present enlarge, because it will be necessary to treat of the others, when we come to investigate those branches of science to which they properly belong. First, therefore, of gravitation. It requires no experi- ment to shew the attraction of gravity ; for since the earth is in the form of a globe, it is manifest that it must be endued with a power of attraction to keep upon its surface, the various bodies which exist there, without their being hurled away into the immensity of space in the course of its rotary diurnal (or daily) motion. The earth has therefore been compared to a large magnet, which attracts all smaller bodies towards its centre. This is the true cause of weight or gravity (which mean the same thing.) All bodies are drawn towards the earth by the force of its attraction ; and this attraction is exerted in proportion to the quantity of solid matter which any body contains. — Thus, when two bodies are placed in opposite scales, and we see 'one preponderate, we say it is heavier than the other ; in fact, that it contains a greater quantity of solid matter. For as every particle of matter is attracted by the earth, the greater number of such par- ticles any body contains, the more forcibly it will be attracted. We know, by experience, that the weight or • .14* 162 YOUNG man's book of knowledge, gravity, of a body or thing is not in proportion to its laulj-. A bullet of lead, of the same size as one of wood, or of eork, will weigh infinitely heavier, and one of gol4 would be heavier still. It is reasonable, therefore, to suppose that the ball of gold, or of lead, contains a greater number of solid particles, which are united or pressed closer together than those of the wood or cork, which is more porous, and its particles lie less closely compressed or compacted together. This, then, is what is meant by specific gravity, that one body contains more solid parti- cles within a certain compass, size, bulk, or space, than another. It is one of the laws of nature, discovered by Newton, and now received by all philosophers, that every particle of matter gravitates towards Bvety other particle ; which law is the main principle in the Newtonian philosophy. The planets and comets all gravitate towards the sun, and towards each other, as well as the sun towards them, and that in proportion to the quantity of matter in each. All terrestrial bodies tend toward a point, which 13 either accurately, or very nearly, the centre of the earth ; consequently, bodies fall every where perpendicular to its surface, and therefore on opposite sides in opposite direc- tions. As it acts upon all bodies in proportion to their quantities of matter, it is this attractive force that consti- tutes the weights of bodies. The cause of gravity is totally unknown. Many theo- ries have been invented to account for it, but they have been all mere hypotheses or conjectures, without any solid foundation. 11. The attraction of cohesion is observable in almost every natural object, since in reality, it is that which holds their parts together. It has been already demon- strated, in the experiment of the two leaden balls, and the same effect will be proved by pressing together the smooth surfaces of two pieces of looking-glass, particularly if a little moisture is dropped between them to exclude the air more perfectly. The adhesion or tenacity of all bodies is supposed to depend on the degree of this attraction which exists between their particles : and the cohesive power of several solid »ubstances has been ascertained b^ NATURAL AND EXPERIMfiNTAL PHILOSOPHY. 163 a course of experiments, in which it was to put to the test what weight a piece of each body of one tenth of an inch diameter would sustain, and the weights were found to be as follows : Raw flax - - - 37 lbs. Ash - - - 50 lbs Horse hair - - - 45 Zinc - - - 18 Raw Hemp - 46 Lead - - - 29i Raw silk - • . 53i Tin - Fir wood - - ■ 23 Copper - - 299 Elm - - - ■ 35 Brass - - - 360 Alder . - - 40 Silver - - - 370 Oak - - - ■ 48 Iron - - - 450 Beech - - TWW^l t • • 50 Gold - - - 500 J 1 A This cohesion is also visible even in fluid substances, the particles of which adhere together, though with a less degree of tenacity than solid bodies. " The pearly dew" is a well known phretse in poetical language, and the drops of rain, or of dew, upon the leaves of plants, assume this round or pearly appearance by the attraction which the particles have for one another. In the same manner quicksilver, if divided into the smallest grains, will appear round, hke small shot, because the particles attract each other equally in every direction, and thus each particle draws others to it on every side, as far as its power extends. For the same reason, two small drops of quicksilver, when brought near to each other, will seem to run together and unite. Some bodies, however, in certain circumstances, appear to possess a power the reverse of attraction ; and this is called, in philosophical language, repulsion. Of Magnetism. These is scarcely any instance in which the principle of attraction is dispilayed in a more striking manner than in that of the magnet or load-stone ; so called, as is con> jectured from load, the Saxon word for lead, that is, the ^eo^tn^-stone, from its proving a guide to seamen by means of the compass, or magnetic needle, which always ^ints out to the north. 164 YOUNG man's book op knowledge. The load-stone, or natural magnet, is an ore of iron ; that is, iron united in a state resembling a cinder, or calx, with some other substance. This is, indeed, the state in which most metals are found in the mines, that is, resembling a stone or cinder; and being afterwards purified by the action of fire in the furnace, the other matter with which the metal was united is driven off, and the metal appears in its proper state, and fit for mecha- nical purposes. Load-stones are found more or less in every iron mine. They are of a dull brownish black colour, and most of them are sufficiently hard to afford sparks like a flint when struck with steel. The great and distinguishing property of the magnet, is its attraction for iron ; and this attraction is mutual between them. This property, which is possessed by the natural load- stone, it will communicate to any other piece of iron by only touching it; and the piece of iron thus converted into a magnet, will communicate it to others, and these again to other iron, without losing any part of their magnetic virtue, which seems rather increased than dinii- nished by action. Magnets made by being touched by a loadstone, or by other iron which has been touched by it, are called artificial magnets, and are commonly sold in the shops of those who deal in mathematical a-nd philosophical instruments. Soft iron acquires magnetism with more ease than hard iron or steel, but the latter will retain it much longer. A well-tempered bar of steel will retain the magnetic virtue for many years without di- minution. Those magnets which communicate most freely, and in the greatest degree the magnetic virtue, are called generous ; those which raise the greatest weight, in pro- portion to their size, are called vigorous magnets. The magnetic virtue is found to he the most active at two opposite points of each magnet, which have been termed its poles, from their correspondence with the poles of the earth, as is found by placing the magnet on a small piece of wood floating on water, or in any situation in which it may turn freely, when the magnet will NATURAL AND EXFEKIHENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 163 arrange itself exactly in that direction, namely, from north to south. In England, we call that the south pole of the magnet which points towards the north, and that is termed the north pole which is directed to the south. The foreign philosophers, on the contrary, name them according to the pole to which they point. That is, the north pole of the magnet is that which is directed to the north or arctic region, and the contrary. The principle of repulsion is also very strikingly ex- emplified by the magnet: for if the same pole of two magnets is presented one to the other, that is, the north pole of one magnet to the north pole of the other, they will mutually repel or drive away each other ; if, on the contrary, the south pole of the one is presented to the north pole of the other, they will he mutually attracted. It is on this account that it is necessary, in making artificial magnets, to draw the magnet, with which they are rubbed or touched, always one way. It is most effectually done also by applying one of the poles of the magnet to the bar or piece of iron which is to be rendered magnetic, and drawing it slowly along several times. What Is extraordinary, the end of the bar which is first touched with the magnet, will have the contrary pro- perty to the end of the magnet with which it is touched or rubbed. If, for instance, the end with which the bar is touched, is the north pole of the magnet, the end of the bar to which it is first applied will be a south pole, and the contrary. It is evident that the directive power of the magnet, or that which causes it when placed so that it can freely turn of itself, to take always a position north and south, is the most useful property of the magnet. The mariner's compass is a fine needle, index, or piece of steel wire, formed like the index, or hand of a clock or watch, nnd made so as turn with great ease on the prop which sup- ports it. The needle, or index, is fixed in a box, and underneath it the points of the compass, or the different quarters of the horizon, that is, east, west, north, and south, are marked on a card. As the magnetic needle always points towards the north, by observing the course or direction of the ship, that is, which way her head is 1&6 tOUN<} Mam's B00& of KNoWLfiBG^. turned, it is easy to know to what point she stedrs ; and by keeping a regular account of the distance she traverses, the seaman can go with exactness from one place to another. Befofe this great and important invention, seamen usually steelred by observing the fixed stars, and particularly the polaf or the north staif. Though the position of the magnetic needle is generally north and south, yet it is found sometimes to vary a few points of degrees from this position ; and it not only varies at different places, but even at different times at the same place. This is called the variation or declination of the compass. Magnets, while they attract other bodies, appear to be themselves subject to the attraction of the earth, for the magnetic needle, when it is placed where it can act freely, generally assumes a position with one of ite poles a little elevated and the other depressed. This, however, vanes in different latitudes : near the equator it is in a position almost strait or horizontal ; as it approaches the northern regions, the south pole is depressed, or drawn towards the earth ; and, on the other side, the equator, in the southern latitudes, the north pole is depressed. This is called tbf dip of the needle. On Fire and its Properties. The objects of natural philo.sophy may be divided into fluid and solid bodies, terms which to attempt to define, would only serve to perplex, because they are in a great measure objects of our senses. It is probable, as will hereafter appear, that there is but one fluid in nature, and that other bodies arc rendered fluid only from the particles of that active and subtle fluid being insinuated between the particles of those bodies which appear in that state. This fluid is fire, the caloric of the French philosophers, or heat, as it has been termed by some writers, though the word heat seems better adapted to express one of its qualities than its nature or essence. That light and the electric fluid are only forms or modifications of fire, is highly probable : but this is a subject on which it is not necessary to enter here. The most remarkable properties of fire, are the minute- ■JtATVtLAt AifD EXPERlMtiKtAL fBihOiOfut. 16? ness of its particles, or its subtility, and its wonderful elasticity, which last property renders it an exception to all other matters on this earth, in not being subject to the laws of gravitation, at least as far as we are able to judge, or, in other words, being without weight. Very many of the effects of fire will be found to depend on its elas- ticity. When we speak of elementary fire, it does not follow that the body in which it is present should necessarily appear in an inflamed or burning state ; this depends on the quantity, in the first place, and, in the second, on the fire being in an active state. For instance, when we feel warmed and refreshed by a fire, our bodies imbibe a certain quantity of its particles, but not sufiicient to con- sume or injure them. Nay, it is known to a certainty, that every part of nature, even the coldest bodies to our touch, have a certain portion of elementary fire within them. It constitutes a considerable part of the air we breathe, and, indeed, it is probable, that part of it is most necessary to sustain life. Fire is found to exist either in a latent, combined, or inactive state ; or also in its active disengaged state, when it exhibits the usual phenomena of flame and culinary fire. As elementary fire is a fluid extremely subtle, it pene- trates almost all bodies, and is imbibed more or less by all ; but some bodies have a much stronger attraction for it than others. Thus, though all fluidity is the effect of fire, some bodies will not melt or become fluid without a considerable accession of heat, while some have so strong an attraction for it, that they will continue fluid in the ordinary heat of our atmosphere. Thus most metals^re- main solid, unless exposed to the heat of a furnace, while mercury or quicksilver is fluid in a very low temperature. Thus wax or tallow requires the application of consider- able heat to melt or render them fluid, while water conti- nues in its fluid state till the thermometer is reduced to 32 degrees, a degree of cold which is extremely uneasy to our feelings. The effects which are wrought upon different bodies by the presence of fire, are, 1st, expansion; 2d, fluidity; 3d, boiling or evaporation; 4th, combustion. 168 vouNG man's book of knowledge. Isl, Expansion. Nothing is more obvious than that the admission of the matter of fire within the pores, or between the particles of any bodies, causes an immediate expansion or swelling out of the whole mass. An iron bolt that would easily pass through a ring in a cold state, will stick fast in it when heated a little in the fire. But this expansion is seen more powerfully to affect fluid than solid bodies, because there is less adhesion between their paj-ticles. Thus, if a bulb of glass, with a tube annexed to it, is half filled with spirits of wine tinged with any colouring matter, and grasped with a warm hand, the little quantity of air contained in the bulb will be expan- ded, and force the liquor to the other end, where it will exhibit all the phenomena of boiling. Though quick- silver is a metal, yet it has so strong an attraction for the matter of fire, that it continues in a fluid state in the or- dinary heat of our 0,tmosphere. It is therefore very easily expanded by heat of fire ; and upon this principle the well known instrument, called the thermometer, or measure of heat, is constructed. It consists of a bulb, which is filled with quicksilver, and a tube, from which the air has been excluded, and which is closed at the top. The mercury, therefore, in the bulb is expanded by every in- crease of heat, and consequently rises in the tube, and, when the heat is withdrawn, it sinks proportionably. From what has been said, it will be obvious, that cold mearis nothing but the absence of heat : for, whenever that is withdrawn, we become sensible of cold, which therefore denotes a sensation of feeling, and not a thing. To graduate, as it is called, or mark a thermometer, it is plunged into what is called the freezing mixture, that is, salt and snow, when the mercury sinks, being deprived of its heat : and afterwards into boiling water, when the mercury rises considerably in the tube. The space be- tween these two points is divided into two hundred and twelve equal parts, which are accordingly marked on the stem of the thermometer, or the board to which it is af- fixed. When bodies assume the fluid state, a large portion of elementary fire is absorbed, and, in the language of Dr. Black, remains latent, that is, tiot sensible to our touch, at least with respect to such substances as can be dissolved NATCSAL AMD EXPERIMENTAL PBILOSOPHT. Ifi9 or rendered fluid with the common heat of our climate.— Thus, to melt a pound of ice, it will be found that a largo portion of heat or fire must be consumed or absorbed, and yet the heat in the water so produced shall not be percep- tible to our touch. When bodies pass from a solid to a fluid state, the ab- sorption of heit by that body produces a degree of sensible cold. Thus, if any solid body can be made suddenly to melt or dissolve in the common heat of our atmosphere^ a very considerable degree of sensible cold will be pro- duced. When bodies, on the contrary, pass from a fluid to a solid state, sensible heat is generated by the elementary fire, which is let loose or emitted. The heat produced by throwing water upon quicklime, which is the process the working men call slacking lime, must have been observed by most people. In this case the component parts of the water are absorbed into the solid mass of the lime, and the fire which held it in a fluid state is let loose. As by the application of heat or fire solid bodies are ex- panded, so by a continuation and increase of it their par- tides are dissolved and become fluid ; and if the heat continues to be accumulated, what was before a common or incompressible fluid, will be turned into an elastic fluid. In common language, it will boil, and, in process of time, go off entirely in vapour. Boiling is evidently no other than a fluid being conver- ted into vapour, and the point at which water begins to boil is fixed, on Fahrenheit's scale, at two hundred and twelve degrees. In this case, as well as in the former, there must be a considerable absorption or accumulation of the matter of fire before the effect can be wrought ; and the water or fluid boils or bubbles up, because that part of the vessel which is nearest the fire will be most heated, and therefore the evaporation commonly com- mences at the bottom. If the heat is continued after the fluid arrives at the boiling point, the whole of the fluid will fly off in vapour or steam, which, in common language, is called boiling' away, Vapour is one thousand eight hundred times lighter than water, that is, a given portion of water will, in an elastic form, occupy eighteen hundred times the space 15 ltd ITOUSG man's Boot OF KNOfrLfiDGS. It did before. Vapour, as well as air, is called an elastic fluid, because it may be compressed like wool or feathers, and, when the pressure is removed, will recover its former dimensions. Yet it is only to a certain extent that vapour can be compressed, for its force is immense, as we may See by the amnnibg power which is exerted by the Steam engine in working pumps and other machinery ; and the bursting of one of those eng'ines is attended with a report much greater than that of the heaviest cannon ; in fact, the force of vapour is greatly superior to that of gunpowder. One hundred and forty pounds of gun- powder blew up a weight of thirtjr thousand pounds, but the same weight of Water, converted into steam, or va- pour, lifted a weight of upwards of seventy thousand pounds. All smoke is vapour, and the smoke from our Common coal fires proceeds from the water which is formed in the process of burning, and which is converted into vapour. It is, however, commonly mixed with some oily, bituminous, saline, or sulphureous matter from the coal, as is evident from the soot which adheres to the sides of the chimney. Fluids will boil, or in other words, be converted into vapour with a less degree of heat than they do, if it was not for the pressure of the atmosphere. Water which boils at two hundred and twelve degrees in the open air. ■will, in the most perfect vacuum we can make, boil a,t ninety degrees, that is, it will boil in vacuo at one hun- dred and twenty-two degrees below its ordinary boiling or vaporific point. 4thly. Combustion implies the emission of fire froiri some body in which it existed in a latent state, and the destruction, or rather the change of some other body. Fire is contained in the largest quantity in air, and the pure part of it, that is, the oxygen, being disposed to unite with many other matters, most of the ordinary processes of combustion and inflammation are the result of the sudden union of oxygen with some other sub- stance, in which case the fire which was contained in the oxygen air is disengaged and let loose. This fact is very clearly evinced in the combustion of phosphorus, which inflames in the common temperature of the atmo- •^here. Phosphorus, in fact, has a greater attraction KATUKAL AND EXFERIMENTAL FHIL08OFBT. 171 for oxygen than almost any other substance; when, therefore, any portion of it is exposed to the air, in a cer- tain degree of heat, that is, the oxygen, is attracted by it and condensed, the phosphorus is then changed into phosphoric acid, and the fire, which kept the oxygen in an aerial form, is detached, and flame is produced. With respect to other inflammable matters (coal, for instance) either they have a weaker attraction for oxygen than phosphorus, or their particles have a stronger attraction for each other ; it is therefore necessary that a degree of internal agitation should previously be excited in them, or even a third substance introduced. Thus, in the ordinary process of exciting culinary fiie, when a quan- tity of inflammable matter is heaped together, and fire introduced among it, by the action of the fire, a part of it is first expanded from its solid state into the state of inflammable vapour, it comes then necessarily into con- tact with the pure air of the atmosphere, and the action of the fire still continuing, the fire which the pure part of the air contained is attracted from it, and the oxygen unites with the inflammable matter, and both are com- bined into water in the form of vapour or smoke. Hence there can be no combustion without a supply of pure air; and therefore the common bellows, by bringing an accession of air, causes a fire to bum better. Flame is ignited vapour, and that part only which comes in contact with the air is inflamed ; the flame of a candle or lamp may therefore be considered as a tube or cone of fire, the hollow part of which within is filled with the vapour which is not inflamed. It assumes the form of a cone, because the vapour being gradually consumed as it rises, the quantity is lessened in its dimensions. Flame, which is ignited vapour, always ascends, because vapour or smoke is lighter than air, and it is a well-known prin- ciple, that by the laws of gravitation, the heaviest body will be always nearest the earth, and consequently the lighter at top. Of the Laws of Motion. Every thing in mechanics depends upon very simple principles, and may be resolved ultimately into the power of gravity and the laws of motion. 1?2 tOUNG man's nOOK or KNOWLEDGE. In treating of gravitation, in a preceding part, it was shewn to be that kind of attraction which subsists between the mass of the earth, and all those bodies which are on its surface. It is that which, in the stated revolutions of this planet, prevents us, and all the bodies which surround us, from falling into infinite space ; and which draws so forcibly every thing whatever towards the centre of the earth. That this attraction is greater or less at different dis- tances is generally allowed : a body which at one semi- diameter of the earth weighs a pound, will have four times less weight at two seroidiameters, and nine times less at three. At small distances, however, we are not sensible of this difference in weight, for though we could not be elevated a mile above the earth's surface, when we con- sider its diameter is eight thousand miles, we shall easily see that the small difference which this would produce is scarcely to be estimated. Falling bodies, however, we know, acquire an accele- rated or increased force, according to the height from which they fall : but this must be accounted for from different principles. Every man is sensible, that the fall of a stone is to be dreaded in proportion to the height from which it descends. If it falls from only a foot above his head, it is not so likely to be so fatal as if it fell from the parapet of a high house. The falling hoiy, therefore, must of necessity acquire an increase of velocity in its descent ; and in fact, it is said that a leaden bullet let fall from one of the steeples of Westminster Abbey, acquired velocity sufficient to pierce through a deal board. This effect must therefore be referred to the first law of motioij, as laid down by Sir Isaac Newton, which is, that " all bodies are indifferent to motion and rest: in other words, a body at rest will continue in that state, unless put in motion by some external impulse; and a body in motion will continue that motion for ever, unless stopped by some external obstruction." This property of matter has for many years attracted the attention of the most acute mathematicians. No one, however, has explained it so clearly as Newton, who indeed shed a "new light" upon every thing which underwent the scrutiny and piercing research of his gigantic and enterprising mind. It SATUKAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 173 is termed, in the technical language of philosophy, its vis inertias. To apply this to the case immediately in point, it is evident tliat the bullet which is dropped from the steeple of Westminster Abbey, having, by the power of gravity, once acquired a certain degree of motion, would continue to fall by the motion it had received by the first impulse, even if the cause was to cease. For instance, if when it had fallen half way, it was impossible to deprive it of gravity, it would still, by the above law, continue its mo- tion, and in the direction in which it was sent, as a stone continues to go on, when thrown by the hand, without any new impulse. — The power of gravity however, does not cease, and therefore every inch the bullet fulls it re- ceives an increase of motion. Thus, if in the space of one second it falls one pole (sixteen feet and a half), it will then have acquired as much swiftness or velocity as will carry it through three poles in the next second, through five in the third, through seven in the fourth, and nine in the fifth. This will account for its accele- rated motion, and for the increased force with which it fall? near the bottom. Thus the time which bodies take in falling is easy calculated, for if they fall about one pole in the first second, which is what they nearly do by the force of gravity, they will then fall three in the next, and in five seconds ihey will fall about twenty-five poles, or three hundred feet. If there was no resistance from the air, the velocity of falling bodies would be still greater, and as water is a medium more dense than air, the resistance must be greater, and the motion of a body falling in water proportionably slower. The same principle holds with respect to projected bodies. " It seems a bold assertion," says Mr. Walker, " to say that a cannon, discharged horizontally on the top of a tall tower, shall throw a ball two miles distant ; and that it shall strike a level plain, or the ground, at the same instant that another ball, let fall from the muzzle of the gun, (the moment of its discharge) shall strike it ! But there is no doubt of the fact ; for though the pro- jected ball may move point blank (and bid defiance to the power of gravity half its way), it will perform that half in so short a space of time, that it will fall a rod in the 15* 174 TocjNO man's book op kkowlsdgb. first second, three rods in the second, &c. like all other falling bodies ; for an horizontal impulse retards not the power of gravity, in respect of lime." As heavy bodies are uniformly accelerated in their de- scent, they are as uniformly retarded by the power of gravity in their ascent. Thus, if we were to throw the bullet up to the steeple of Westminster Abbey, we must give it just as much force as it acquired in its descent. It is from the sluggishness of matter, which is called the vis inertitB of bodies, that there proceeds a something like an endeavour in all bodies to preserve that state in which they are ; when at rest to continuein a state of rest, and when in motion to continue in motion. This position may seem abstruse, but it will admit of illustration by the most common facts. If we push a bowl of water with the hand, the water flies over the edge upon the hand, for it endeavours to continue in the state of rest in which it was. But if we take the bowl in our hand, and run away with it, and suddenly stop short, the water flies forward the way we were running, from its vis inertise, or tendency to continue in the same state of motion. In the same manner, if sitting in the front of a carriage, which, after going very fast, stops suddenly, we are jolted from our seat, our heads will drive through the front glass of the carriage. It is a plain and obvious principle, that the greater the quantity of matter is which anybody contains, the great- er will be its vis inertia. The heavier any body is, the greater the power which is required, either to set it in motion, or to stop it. On the other hand, the swifter any body moves, the greater is its force, as was sufliciently exemplified in the case of a bullet, which was supposed to fall from the steeple of Westminster Abbey. Upon this easy principle depends the whole of mechanics. The second law of motion laid down by Sir Isaac Newton is — " that the alteration of the state of any body from rest to motion, or from one motion to another, is always in proportion to the force which impressed, and in the direction of that force." All motion is rectilinear. A bullet projected by the hand, or shot from a cannon, would for ever continue to move in the same direction it received at first, if no other NATURAL AND EXPERIMBNTAL PHILOSOFHY. 175 power diverted its course. Therefore, when we see a body move in a curve of any kind whatever, we conclude it must be acted upon by two powers at least ; one putting it in motion, and another drawing it off from the rectili- near course it would otherwise have continued to move in: and whenever that power, which bent the motion of the body from a straight line into a curve, ceases to act, the body will again move on in a straight line, touching that point of the curve in which it was when the action of that power ceased. For example, a pebble moved round in a sling ever so long a time, will fly off the mo- ment it is set at liberty, by slipping one end of the sling cord : and will go on in a line touching the circle it de- scribed before ; which line would actually be a straight one, if the earth's attraction did not affect the pebble, and bring it down to the ground. This shows that the natu- ral tendency of the pebble, when put into motion, is to continue moving in a straight line, although by the force that moves the sling it is made to revolve in a circle. From this maxim it will evidently appear, that whea two forces act at once upon the same body in different directions, it will go in neither, but in a course between both. If both forces act upon the body in such a manner, as to move it uniformly, the diagonal described will be a straight line, but if one of the forces acts in such a man- ner as to make the body move faster and faster, then the line described will be a curve. And this is the case of all bodies which are projected in rectilinear directions, and at the same time acted upon by the power of gravity, which has a constant tendency to accelerate their motions in the direction wherein it acts. This last is an observation of great importance, as it is the foundation of the beautiful system of Newton concern- ing the planetary motions. The force which impels these bodies forward in a rectilinear direction, is called the centrifugal force, as driving them from the centre ; and the force which draws them towards the centre, or the power of gravity, is called the centripetal force. The third law is, that " re-action is always equal to action." In other words, the resistance of a bodj' at rest, which is acted or pressed upon, acts against a moving 176 YOUNG man's book op knowledge. body with a certain degree of power, and produces the same effects as an active force would have done in the same direction. Thus, if we strike an anvil witli a ham- mer, the anvil strikes the hammer with the same force with which it is struck itself Hence a common trick in the country, of a man lying on the ground with a large anvil on his breast, and suffering a strong man to strike it with a sledge hammer with all his might. If the anvil iis very larg^, its vis inertia resists the force of the blow, and the man is perfectly safe. If the anvil was very small, only the weight of a pound or two, the first stroke would kill the man. Hence it is evident, that when a load is drawn by a horse, the load acts against the motion of the horse, and the actibn of the animal is as much impeded by the load, as the motion of the load is prompted by his efforts. Before we proceed to the consideration of the six me- chanic powers, it is necessary to say a few words on what is called the centre of gravity. The centre of gravity is that point of a body in which the whole force of its gravity or weight is united. What- ever, therefore, supports that point, bears, in fact, the weight of the whole body; and while it is supported it cannot fall, because all its parts are in perfect equilibrium about that point. Thus, if we endeavour to balance a cane, by laj'ing it across upon our finger, after some time we find a placfe where neither end will preponderate. The part, thfen, which rests upon our finger is the centre of gravity. An imaginary line drawn from the centre of gravity of any body towards the centre of the earth, is called the line of direction, and it is in this line all heavy bodies will descend. The difficulty of sustaining a tall body upon a narrow foundation will be evident, if we attempt to balance a cane with its small end upon our finger. Its centre of gravity is somewhere about the middle of the cane, and unless we have sufficient dexterity to keep the founda- tion on our finger perpendicular under the centre of gra- vity, it will undoubtedly fall. In this consists the great difficulty of posture-masters and rope-dancers. The danfeer on the rope balances himself with a long pole loaded with lend, and keeps his eye steadily on some NATORAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 177 points exactly parallel to the rope, by which he can see whether his centre of gravity is either on one side or the othor of his slippery foundation, and if any irregularity takes place, he rectifies it by his balancing pole. All bodies stand firm on their bases, when the line of direction falls within the base ; for in this case the body cannot be made to fall, without first raising the centre of gravity higher than it was before. The nearer the centre of gravity, and the line of direc- tion coincide, the firmer any body stands upon a horizon- tal plane. If the plane is inclined, a body will slide down it, if the direction line falls within the base. The broader the base, the firmer any body stands ; thus we find we stand firmer with our feet a little asunder, than when close together ; and, in the former case, it will require a much greater force to push us down. Whenever the line of direction, however, falls without the base of our feet, we necessarily fall ; " and it is not only pleas- ing," adds Mr. Ferguson, " but even surprising, to reflect upon the various and unthought of methods and postures which we use to retain this position, or to recover it when it is lost. For this purpose we bend our body forward when we rise from a chair, or when we go up stairs ; and for this purpose a man leans forward when he carries a burden on his back, and backward when he carries it on his breast ; and to the right or left side as he carries it on the opposite side. A thousand more instances might be added. Of the Mechanic Powers. Man, considered as to his bodily structure, is but a feeble creature ; it is mind which gives him a superiority over other animals. Contrivances to assist his natural powers, we have reason to believe, took place at a very early period of society, as we find few nations, even in the most savage state, which are entirely without them. It is philosophy, however, which explains their theory and uses, and which extends their application. When we survey the vast variety of complex machines, which one of our great manufactories, for instance, exhi- bits, we are struck with astonishment, and the creativa 178 roUKG man's book or KNOVrLEOCB. genius of man appears to the greatest advantage ; but the surprise of the unscientific person will be increased when he learns that this vast assemblage of mechanism is re- duced into six simple machines or powers, from which, and their different combinations, the most stupendous works of human art are produced. These machines are, 1. the lever; 2. the wheel and axle; 3. the pulley; 4. the inclined plane ; 5. the wedge ; and 6. the screw, 1. The lever is, perhaps, the simplest of all the me- chanic powers, and was probably the first which was brought into use. It is a bar of iron ojr wood, one part of which is supported by a prop, and upon that prop all the other parts turn as on their centre of motion. You see the lever made use of in one form or other every day ; when a labourer takes a handspike, or large stake, and putting a stone under some part near the end, by putting the extremity under a cask, a piece of timber, or any other body, and attempts to move it, by pulling at the other end, he makes use of a lever. The handle of a pump is a lever also ; even the poker with which we raise the fire is a lever, the bar of the grate is the prop, and the end which we hold in our hands is the strength or power. This is, however, not the only kind of lever, for in fact there are three different ways of using the lever, and from the different ways of using it, it is called a lever of the first, second, or third kind, viz. of the first kind, when the weight is on one side of the prop, and the power on the other : of the second kind, when the weight is between the prop and the power; and of the third kind, when the power is between the prop and the weight. Many instruments in common use are levers of these kinds, thus pincers, sheers, and snuffers are compounded of two levers of the first kind. Cutting knivfes used by druggists are levers of the second kind, and so are doors, oars, and bellows. A ladder, reared by a man against a wall, is a lever of the third kind, and so are all the bones and muscles of animals. . The wheel and axle is an engine consisting of a wheel fixed upon the end of an axle, so that they both turn round together at the same time. The power being applied at the circumference of the wheel, the weight to be raised is fastened to a rope that coils round the axle. NATUBAL AND EXFEBIMENTAL FHILOSOPHT. 179 The capstan used on ship-board, for the purpose of weigh- ing anchors, is a cj'linder of wood with holes in it, into which are put bars or levers to turn it round ; these are like the spokes of a wheel within the rim. Sometimes the axis is turned by a winch fastened to it, which in this respect serves for a wheel, and is more powerful in pro- portion to the largeness of the circle it describes, com- pared with the diameter of the axle. A pulley is a small wheel moveable round an axis, called its centre pin, with a drawing rope passing over it. The chief use of the single pulley is to change the direction of the power from upwards to downwards, and to convey bodies to a great height or distance, without a person moving from the place. The inclined plane is made by planks, bars, or beams laid aslope ; by which large and heavy bodies may be more easily raised or lowered, by sliding them up and down the plane; and the increase of power is in the pro- portion of the length of the plane to its height. In drawing a weight upon an inclined plane, the power acts to the greatest advantage, when its direction is parallel to the plane. The wedge, which resembles two inclined planes, is very useful to drive in below very heavy weights, to raise them only a small height, and to cleave and split blocks of wood and stone. The power exerted by it is in proportion of the slant side to half the thickness of the back. So that if the back of a wedge be two inches thick, and the side twenty inches long, any weight pressing on the back will balance twenty times as much acting on the side. But the great use of a wedge lies in its being urged not by pressure, but usually by percussion, as by the blow of a hammer or mallet ; by which means a wedge may be driven in below, and so bo made to lift almost any weight, as the largest ship, by a man striking the back of a wedge with a mallet. The screw is a kind of perpetual inclined plane, the power of which is still farther assisted by the addition of a handle or lever, where the power acts ; so that the gain in power is in the proportion of the circumference de- scribed, or passed through by the power to the distance between thread and thread in the screw. The uses to 180 VOUNfi HAN*^ BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. ■which the screw is applied are various, as the pressing of bodies together, such as the press for napkins, for book- binders, packers, hot-pressers, &.c. The application of these mechanical polfirers to various exi)eriment3, and to compound machines, to the regula- tion of motion by fly-vi^heels, the construction of mills of various kinds, clock-work, and wheel-carriages, it would exceed our limits to describe. Of Hydrostatics. The word Hydrostatics implies the science which relates to the weight of water compared with that of other bodies ; but the science as now taught and cultivated, treats not only of the weight and pressure, but of every thing relative to the action and mechanical properties of fluids in general, or, at least, of the dense or incompress- ible kind, such as water, &c. Though water is generally regarded as incompressible, yet it is not wholly so, su>ce it is capable of transmitting sound, which proves that it is elastic, and every elastic body must be compressible. To prove the fact, however, the Florentine academicians filled a globe perfectly full •with water, and afterwards closed the orifice by a tight screw. The globe was then put into a press of consider- able force ; it was a little flattened at the sides by the force of the press, but was proportionably extended in other parts of its surface, so that it was concluded that the water did not occupy less space than before. On pressing it still harder, the water was made to exude through the pores of the gold, and adhered to its surface like drop of dew. From this experiment it may be in- ferred, that if water is indeed capable of compression, it is so only in a very slight degree, since, instead of yielding to the force of pressure, it found its way out through the pores of the metal. The first principle that may be laid down with respect to the pressure of fluids is, that of all waters which have a communication, the surface, while they are at rest, will be perfectly level. Upon this principle it will be evident, that water con- veyed under the earth through conduit pipes, will always NATUEAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 181 rise to the level of the reservoir whence it is drawn. It is in this manner that the cities of London and West- minster are supplied with water, either from the London Bridge watpr-works or the New River. In the former case, water is raised from the Thames by immense pumps worked by wheels, which are turned by the tide, to a reservoir, which is placed as high as the highest part of the town whither water is to be conveyed by pipes ; and, in the latter it is well known that the reservoir of the New River stands on a rising ground near Islington, which is higher than any of the places where the pipes terminate. The reason why the water thus rises to its level, is hecaxise fluids press equally on all sides. Another maxim in hydrostatics, of equal importance with the former is, that every body lighter than water, or, in other words, which swims in water, displaces exactly as much of the water as is equal to its own weight. Hence, it is plain, that a boat or other vessel sailing upon the water, displaces exactlj' as much of the fluid as is equal to the vessel and its lading, and, if more weight is added, it will sink deeper in the same proportion, or, in other words, a weight of water equal to the added lading will be displaced, whence a laden ship is said to draw more water, that is, to sink deeper than when it is light or unloaded. Every body, on the other hand, which is heavier than water, or which sinks in water, displaces so much of the water as is equal to the bulk of the body sunk or immersed in the water. Thus, it is plain, that if a leaden bullet is dropped into a vessel of water, it will take up just as much room as a small globe of water of equal dimensions. On this principle is founded the tables of specific gravities, and what is called the hydrostatic balance; for since every body that sinks, displaces a quantity of water ex- actly equal to its own bulk, it follows, that every body, when immersed in water, loses so much of its weight as is equal to the weight of an equal bulk of water. Thus, if the body when weighed in air is two ounces in weight, and an equal bulk of water is one ounce, it will of Course lose, when weighed in water, one ounce of apparent weight. It is by this means that adulterate metals or coins are distinguished from the true ones ; thus copper is bulk for 16 182 YouMO man's book of knowledge, bulk heavier than tin, and gold is heavier than copper or brass, which is a mixture of copper and zinc. If, there- fore a brass counter is offered for a guinea, though it may not to the eye appear much larger than a real guinea, yet you may depend upon it that it is so in fact. We then take a guinea, which we are sure is real gold, and weighing it first in air, and then in water, we find it loses about one-nineteenth of its weight in the latter. We then weigh the brass counter in the same way, and find it loses about one eighth, which.you see, is much more, and therefore we cannot doubt but the coin is made of base metal. When you look at tables of specific gravities, you see the specific gravity of gold put down at about nine- teen one-half, of mercury about thirteen one-half, lead eleven one-quarter, silver ten one-quarter, copper eight one- half, iron seven one-half, tin seven one-quarter, &c. ; that is, gold is nineteen times one-half heavier than its bulk of water, and consequently loses more than one-nineteenth of its weight in that fluid. It is upon the same principles that the density of difier- ent fluids isput to the test. It might, it is true, be ascer- tained by weighing them against each other in different scales ; but it may be done in a more easy and expeditious manner upon the hydrostatic plan, since the same body that will sink in one fluid, will swim in another, and the same body will sink to different depths in different fluids. Thus old women in the country try the body of their mead and other liquors, by observing whether an egg will swim in them, which will sink in common water. The exact relative weight of fluids may be ascertained by sus- pending from one end of an accurate balance, either a small globe, or a conical piece of glass. Its weight in water being previously ascertained, which suppose to be two hundred and twelve grains ; if it is immersed in a fluid heavier than water, some weights must be added in the opposite scale, as for instance, if it is sea- water, ten grains must be added, which will make the relative weight of sea-water to common water, as four hundred and twenty-two to four hundred and twelve ; if, on the con- trary, it is immersed in brandy, which is less dense, and consequently lighter than water, you will find it necessary to take out of the opposite scale about forty grains, and NATURAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 183 then the relative weight of hreindy to water will be as three hundred and seventy-two to four hundred and twelve, or about one-tenth lighter. A very convenient instrument is made use of by excise- men, officers of the customs, and all whose business is to ascertain the density or strength of liquors. It is called a hydrometer, and is nothing more than a small hollow globe of glass or metal with a stem to it, like the handle of a teetotum, but longer, which stem is marked or gradu- ated. — The instrument is made so that the ball sinks in water, but not entirely, and therefore a part of the stem is always above the surface. If it is immersed in a fluid lighter than water it will sink, and less of the stem will be above the surface ; if in a heavier fluid it wUl rise higher, and more of the stem will be seen. Proof-spirit consists of half water and half pure spirit ; that is such as when poured on gunpowder and set on fire, wUl bum all away ; and permit the powder to take fire and flash, as in open air. But if the spirit be not so high- ly rectified, there will remain some water, which will make the powder wet, and unfit to take fire. Proof spirit of any kind weighs seven pounds twelve ounces per gallon. The common method of shaking the spirits in a phial, and raising a head of bubbles, to judge, by their manner of rising or breaking whether the spirit be proof or near it, is very fallacious. There is no way so certain, and at the same time so easy and expeditious, as this by the hydrometer ; which will infallibly demonstrate the difler- ence of bulks, and consequently the specific gravities in equal weights of spirits, to the thirty, forty, or fifty thonsandeth part of the whole ; which is a degree of ac- curacy no one can wish to exceed. To the science of hydrostatics, belongs the construction of that curious machine, called the diving-bell. It is an empty vessel in the form of a bell inverted, and made so heavy as to sink in water. Its ingenious inventor Dr. Halley, was one of five persons, who, inclosed in a diving- bell, were let down to the depth of nine or ten fathoms of water for above an hour and a half at a time, without experiencing any ill effects. He says he might have continued there as much longer as he pleased. By the 184 vouNO man's book of knowledge. gla^s above, so much light was transmitted, when the sim shone, and the sea was clear and even, that he could see perfectly well to read and write, and to take up any thing that was under the bell ; and by the return of the air- barrels, he could send up orders, written with an iron pen on small pieces of lead, when he wanted to be removed from place to place. But in misty weather, or when the sea was rough, it was nearly dark in the bell, and he was then obliged to burn a candle, which consumed about as much air as one person. Of Hydraulics. Hydrostatics, we have seen, is that science which relates to the weight and pressure of fluids: the science of Hydraulics teaches us what respects the motion of fluids, and the means of raising them by pumps, and conducting them by pipes or aqueducts from one station to another. It was laid down as a principle, in the preceding article, that of all waters which communicate with each other, the surfa'ce will be level, or, in common language, that water will rise to its level, or to the same height as its source. — The reason of this was not fully assigned then, because it was not necessary ; it was observed, that fluids press equally on all sides, but the true reason of the level surface of water in the pressure of another fluid, that is, the air or atmosphere, which, as it bears equally on all points of the earth's surface, must equally press the source from which water is derived ; and the orifice of the tube or pipe in which it rises. That water will not flow unless exposed to the pressure of the atmosphere, will be plain from filling a cask or other vessel perfectly full of this fluid. If the bung is perfectly tight, and there is no aperture above for the air to press upon it and force it out, it is in vain that we shall attempt to draw it off by opening a passage for it below. Hence the use of vent holes, and of vent pegs, in casks, by rais- ing the vent peg air is admitted, which forces the liquor to flow out at the cock or fosset, whereas if the vent peg was kept tight, no liquor whatever could be obtained. It is by the pressure of the atmosphere that the com- mon or sucking pump is enabled to act. It is said to NATURAL AND EXPERIMESTAt PHILOSOPHY. 185 have been invented by a mathematician of the name of Ctesbes, about one hundred and twenty years before Cnrist ; but the principle on which it acted was un- known till the last century. Mankind, perfectly igno- rant that the air had weight, attempted to account for these effects by a maxim not only unfounded, but even destitute of meaning. That was, " that nature abhorred a vacuum." What they meant by Nature is as little to be understood, as when the same word is used by those ignorant and absurd persons who affect to deny the ex- istence of a God. Absurd, however, as this maxim was, it remained uncontradicted till within these one hundred and fifty years, when it met with a practical refutation. About that time some workmen were employed by the Duke of Florence, to raise water by a sucking pump to the height of fifty or sixty feet. A pump was accordingly constructed for that purpcfee, but, after all their efforts, they were unable to raise it above the height of thirty-two feet. It was then found, either that nature had not this horror of a vacuum, or, at least, that it was a very limited kind of a horror ; for why should nature have a horror of a vacuum at one height, and not at another? The mat- ter was referred to the famous astronomer and philo- sopher Galileo, but, strange to relate, he was unable to solve the diflSculty! The difficulty is, however, now explained. A pump is a hollow piece of timber, to the bore of which a piston, bucket, or sucker, is exactly fitted. The piston has a valve in it made with leather, like the clapper of a bellows. When the piston is forced down, therefore, the air, or any fluid contained in the pump, will force it open ; and when the piston is drawn up, the pressure of the air or water, which has been admitted in that way, will keep the valve down. It is found, however, that a column of water, ot thirty-two or thirty-three feet high, is equal in weight to a column of water of the same diameter or thickness of the whole height of the atmosphere. Consequently, the pressure of the atmosphere can never force water through any vacant space higher than thirty-three feet. By the action of a common pump, of four inches bore, and thirty feet higli, a single man can discharge twenty-seven gallons and a half of water in a minute ; if the pump is 16* 186 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. only ten feet above the surface of the well, the quantity discharged in that time is eighty-one gallons, six pints. The forcing pump is upon a different plan. Here the piston is without a valve, and the water which rises through the valve in the box, is forced out by the depres- sion of the solid piston. By the means of forcing-pumps, water may be raised to any height above the level, of a stream or spring, provided the machinery is sufficiently powerful to work them. — The London-bridge water-works, which supply the city of London with water, consist of a certain number of forcing pumps, which are worked by large wheels turned by the tide. There is also a beautiful engine of this kind at the Duke of Marlborough's, at Blenheim. The most powerful forcing pumps, however, are wrought by steam engines, for steam is one of the strong- est powers in nature. The steam engine consists of a large cylinder or barrel, in which is nicely fitted a solid piston, like that of a forcing pump. The steam is sup- plied from a large boiler close by, and is admitted into the cylinder by an orifice, which can be occasionally shut. The force of the steam lifts the piston, to the top of which is affixed a long lever to work a forcing pump, or for any other purpose ; and when the piston is lifted a certain height, it opens a small valve in the top of the cylinder, through which a small quantity of cold water being ad- mitted, the steam is condensed, and thus a vacuum being created, the piston again descends, and is again lifted up by the force of the steam. It would far exceed the limits of this work, to enter into an examination of all the steam engines invented by dif- ferent persons. It is sufficient to mention, that no engine of this kind has been found upon careful trial, to he su- perior to those of Mr- Watt. It maj' not be improper here to state the actual per- formance of some of these engines, as they have been ascertained by experiment. An engine, having a cylinder of 31 inches in diameter, and making 17 double strokes per minute, performs the work of forty horses, working night and day, (for which three relays, or 120 horses, must be kept) and burns 11,000 pounds of Staffiard^hire coal per day. A cylindei NATURAL AND EXPEBIME:«TAI. FBILOSOPHT. 187 of 19 inches, making 25 strokes, of 4 feet each, per mi- nute, performs the work of 12 horses working constantly, and burns 3,700 pounds per day. A cylinder of 24 inches, making 22 strokes of 5 feet, burns 5,500 pounds of coals, and is equivalent to the work of 20 horses. Optics. This is a beautiful and interesting branch of science, for it relates to the properties of light, which is the most rapid, subtle, and divisible of all bodies ; and to the struc- ture of the eye, the most wonderful organ of the human frame. Optics explain the manner in which vision is effected, assign the reason of the several alterations which tha rays of light undergo in the eye, and shew for what causes objects appear at different times greater or smaller, more distinct or confused, nearer or remote. In this extensive signification, the science is considered by Sir Isaac Newton in his work on this suhject. The more the properties of Ught are investigated, the more astonishing they appear. A succession of the par- ticles of light following each other in a straij-ht line, is called a ray of light ; and this ray, in whatever manner its direction may be changed, whether by refraction, reflexion, or inflexion, eJways preserves a rectilinear course till it be again changed ; neither is it possible to make it move in the arch of a circle, ellipsis, or other curve. A proof of this, we cannot see objects through a crooked tube. Refraction is the elevation of a ray of light from its straight course, on passing obliquely out of one medium into another of a different density. This may be proved by an easy experiment. Put a piece of money into an empty bason, and walk back till you have just lost sight of the money, which will be hid by the edge of the bason. Then pour water into the bason, and you will see the piece of money distinctly, though you look at it from exactly the same distance as before. The Reflection of the rays of light from the surface of bodies, is the means by which these bodies become visible. And the disposition of bodies to reflect this or that kind 138 YOONG man's book op knowledge of rays most copiously, is the cause of their being of dif ferent colours. When light strikes upon any surfuce, it is 60 reflected, that the angle of reflection is equal to the angle of incirlence. This is one of the fundamental laws of optics, and upon this the properties of mirrors depend. Inflection is a property, by reason of which, when rajs of light come within a certain distance of any body, thsy will either be bent from it, or towards it, this property being a kind of imperfect reflection or refraction. It was discovered by Sir Isaac Newton. The particles which compose a ray of light are exceedingly small. For a proof of this, if a hole be made through a piece of paper with a needle, rays of light from every object on the further side of it, are capable of passing through it at once without the least confusion ; for any one of those objects may as clearly be seen through it, as if no rays passed through from any of the rest. That these par- ticles proceed from every point of the surface of a visible body, and in all directions, is clear ; because wherever a spectator is placed, with regard to the body, every point of that part of the surface which is turned tov/ards him, is visible to him. That they proceed from a body in right lines, we are certain, because just so many and no more w^ill be intercepted in their passage to any place, by an interposed abject, as that object ought to intercept, supposing them to come in such lines. The velocity with which they fly from the surface of the visible body, is no less surprising than their minuteness. Light has been calculated to move at the rate of 150,000 miles in a second. The method by which philosophers estimate its velocity, is by their observations on the eclipses of Jupiter's satellites, which eclipses appear to us about seven minutes sooner than they ought to do by calcu- lation, when the earth is placed between the sun and him, that is, when we are nearest to him; and as much later when the sim is between him and us, at which time we are farthest from him ; from whence it is concluded, that thej' require about seven minutes to pass over a space equal to the distance between the sun and us, which is about eighty-one million of miles. Light is not a simple unmixed body, but is compounded of different species, and each species is disposed both to NATURAL AND EXPEIUMESTAL PHILOSOPHY. 1S9 suflfer a different degree of refrangibility in passing out of one medium into another, and to excite in our mind the idea of a different colour from the rest. Bodies appear of that colour, which arises from the composition of the eolours, which the several species they reflect are dis- posed to excite. To prove this, let a room be darkened, and the sun be permitted to shine into it through a small hole in the window-shutter, and be made to fall upon a glass prism ; then will the sun's rays, in passing through it, suffer different degrees of refraction, and by that means be divided into different rays, which, being received upon a sheet of white paper, will shew the following coloui-s in regular order, viz. red, orange, yellow, green, blue, in- digo, and violet; and if the whole image be divided into 380 equul p-i.rt3, the red will occupy 45, the orange 27, the yellow 43, the green 60, the blue 60, the indigo 40, and the violet 80. As a ray of the sun may be separated into these seven primitive colours, so by their mixture in the due propor- tions, ma3- white be produced. White, therefore, is the mixture of all the colours, as black is the absence or de- privation of colour; and this may be proved, for by fixing pieces of cloth of all t he seven different colours on the ri m of a wheel, and whirling it round with great velocity, it >vill appear to be white. The most remarkable instance of the separation of the primary colours of light, is that of the rainbow. It is formed in general by the reflection of the solar rays from the drops of falling rain. The artificial rainbow may be produced, even by candlelight, on the water which ie ejected by a small fountain, or jet d'eau. These ap- pearances are of the same nature, and depend on the same cause, that is, the refrangibility of the rays of light. In order to understand more fully the science of optics, it is necessary to consider the structure and the formation of the human eye, and to observe how admirably it is adapted to the purposes of sight. The eye-lids, like two curtains, protect and cover the eves during sleep ; when we are awake, they diffuse by their motion, and by peculiar organs of secretion, a fluid over the 636, which cleans and polishes it, and renders it more adapted to transmit the rays of light. The eye it- IdO ¥oUNO Man's book of knowledcEi self is of a globular form, but more protuberant on the fore part than behind. The eye has three coats or mem- branes, called the sclerotica, the ekor aides, and the retina. Of these the most curious is the retina. It is a fine and delicate membrane, and is spread like a net over the con- cave surface of the choroides. It serves to receive the images of objects produced by the refraction of the dif- ferent humours of the eye, and painted, as it were, upon its surface. It is transparent, but appears black by rea- son of a black liquid spread underneath it. From the under part of the eye, but not from the centre part, pro- ceeds the optic nerve, -which is supposed to convey to the brain, the sensations produced upon the retina. The coats of the eye, which invest and support each other, after the manner of the concentric coats of an onion or other bulbous root, inclose three transparent bodies, called the aqueous, crystalline, and vitreous humours. — The aqueous humour is the most fluid, and is thin and clear like water ; it is divided into two portions by the iris which swims in it. The iris consists of two kinds of muscular fibres. The former are extended from its extremity, like the radii of a circle, and point towards the middle of the pupiL as to a centre ; the other fibres are circular and surround the pupil, having the middle of it for their common centre. These are connected to" the former, where they cross them, and therefore when these contract, the pupil is diminished ; when they dilate, it is enlarged. This action takes place according to the distance or remoteness of objects, or the increase or decrease of light. The crystalline humour is as transparent as the purest crystal, but in consistence is like hard jelly. Its form is that of a double convex lens, but more convex on the interior, than on the inferior surface. It is contained in a very strong transparent membrane, called the arachnoides, and is suspended behind the aque- ous humour by the ligamentum ciliare. The vitreous humour receives its name, like the others, from its appear- ance, which is like melted glass. It is not so hard as the crystalline, nor so liquid as the vitreous humour. These humours are of firm texture and soft substance, and are best suited according to the most exact rules of optics, for collecting the raj's of light to a point. KATnRAL AND EXPEEIMfiJfTAL ^HILOSOPBT. 191 These principles, which relate to the properties of light and the structure of the eye, lead to many curious re- searches. For the manner how sight is effected, the power of burning glasses, the construction of microsccfpes, and telescopes of various kinds, whether solar, double, or acromatic, and their progressive improvement ; and for a description of the multiplying glass, the camera obscura, in which objects are represented as they are upon the retina of the eye, reference must be made to the best writers on the subject Acoustics, Acoustics is that science which instructs us in the nature of sound. It is divided by some writers into Dia- coustics, which explains the properties of those sounds that come distinctly from the sonorous body, to the ear; and Catacoustics, which treats of reflected sounds ; but this distinction is not necessary. Sound is the unduJatory or wave-like motion of the air, arising from the tremulous motion of the parts of any body, occasioned by a stroke ; and those undulations, or pulset of the air, beating on the tympanum, or drum of our ears, convey, by the nerves, this sensation to our minds. The vibrations and tremors of the air, excited by the percussion of any body, are propagated in concentric spheres all around the said body (which is their common centre) to very great distances ; and therefore let a persoa be any how, or any where situated within the verge of those motions, he will equally hear the sound, at equal distances from the body whence it comes. Experience has taught us, that sound travels about the rate of 1142 feet in a second, or near 13 miles in a minute : nor do any obstacles hinder its progress, a con- trary wind only a small matter diminishing its velocity. ^- The method of calculating its progress is easily under- stood. When a gun is discharged at a distance, we see the fire long before we hear the sound. If, then, we know the distance of the place, and know the time of the interval between our first seeing the fire, and hearing the 193 VOUNO man's book op knowledge. report, it will show us exactly the time the sound has been in travelling to us. For instance, if the gun is dis- charged a mile off, the moment the flash is seen, you take a watch and count the seconds till you hear the sound; the number of seconds is the time the sound has been travelling a mile. Again, by the above axiom, we are enabled to find the distance between objects that would be otherwise immeasurable. For example, suppose you see the flash of a gun in the night at sea, and tell seven seconds before you hear the report, it follows there- ' fore, that the distance is seven times 1142 feet, that is, 24 yards more than a mile and a half. In like manner, if you observe the number of seconds between the lightning and the report of the thunder, you know the distance of the cloud from whence it proceeds. Derham has -proved, by experiment, that all sounds whatever travel at the same rate. The sound of a gun, and the striking of a hammer, are equally swift in their motions ; the softest whisper flies as swiftly, as far as it goes, as the loudest thunder. To these axioms we may add the following:— Smocrtb and clear sounds proceed from bodies that are homoge^ neous, and of an uniform figure ; and harsh or obtuse sounds, from such as are of a mixed matter and irregular figure. The velocity of sound, is to that of a brisk wind as fifty to one. The strength of sounds is greatest in cold and dense air, and least in that which is warm and rarefied. Every point against which the pulses of sound strike, becomes a centre from which a new series of pulses are propagated in every direction. Sound describes equal spaces in equal times. The sound of bodies endures in proportion to the num- ber of vibrations made therein by the stroke, each vibration producing a wave in the air, and each wave repeating the sound ; but still more and more faint, as the vibra- tions are less and less, till they entirely cease : This is easy to be observed by the air in bells, and by the eye in a string under tension. An echo is the repetition of sound, made by a reflection or repercussion of a wave of sound, from the surface of NATURAL AND EXPERIHENTAL. FHIi.08QFBT. 19$ very hard and smooth obstacles, as walls, &c. whence flying back, it re-salutes our ears with the same tound again. The notes and tones of sound, arise from the peculiar nature of the sonorous body, the manner and degree of percussion, and the different make and configuration of the organ or instrument of sound; all these contribute to make that wonderful variety and difference in the tunes, notes, or tones of sound. There is probably no substance which is not in some measure a conductor of sound ; but sound is much en- feebled by passing from one medium to another. If a man, stopping one of his ears with his finger, stops the other also by pressing it against the end of a long stick, and a watch be applied to the opposite end of the stick, or of a piece of timber, be it ever so long, the beating of the watch will be distinctly heard ; whereas, in the usual way, it can scarcely be heard at the distance of 15 or 18 feet. The same efiect will take place if he stops both his ears with his hands, and rests his teeth, his temple, or the cartilaginous part of one of his ears against the end of the stick. Instead of a watch, a gentle scratch may be made at one end of a pole or rod, and the person who keeps the ear in close contact with the other end of the pole, will hear it very plainly. Thus, persons who are dull of hearing, may, by applying their teeth to some part of an harpsichord, or other sounding body, hear the sound much better than otherwise. If a person tie a poker, or any other piece of metal on to the middle of a strip of flannel about a yard long, then press with his thumbs or fingers the ends of the flannel into his ears, while he swings the poker against any ob- stacle, as an iron or steel fender, he will hear a sound very like that of a large church bell. Sound, like that, after it has been reflected from several places, may be collected in one point, as into a focus ; and it will be there more audible than in any other part, even than at the place from whence it proceeded. — On this principle it is, that a whispering gallery is constructed. 17 194 voUNG mait's book of knowledge. Of Eleetricity. It the electrical fluid is not the matter of fire, as hag been conjectured, it resembles that element in so many of its phenomena and effects, that there is reason to believe it a combination of that element with some other sub- stance. But of the nature of that combination we are at present ignorant. The electric matter resembles the matter of fire in its most usual elFect, the power of igniting or setting on fire inflammable bodies ;, in melting metals ; in the emission of light; and in the velocity of the electric light, Friction, which is known to produce heat and fire, is also the most powerful means of exciting electricity ; heat also extends itself most rapidly in humid bodies and metals, and these are the best conductors of electricity ; and, as heat or fire is the most elastic of all fluids, and perhaps the greatest cause of repulsion, so the electrical repulsion may, per- haps, be referred to the same principle. On the contrary, there are some facts which seem to prove that the electric matter is somewhat different in its nature from pure elementary fire. The electric matter affects the organs of scent ; its. progress may also be ar- rested by certain matters, which, on that account, are called non-conductors ; glass, in particular, which admits the passage of both heat and light, stops the course of the electric matter ; on the contrary, the electric fluid will ad- here most tenaciously to some other bodieS; without diffus- ing itself even to those which are in contact with them : thus an electric spark has been drawn by a wire through the water of the river Thames, and has set fire to spirit of wine on the opposite side. The principal phenomena of electricity are, first, the electrical attraction and repulsion. Secondly, the elec- trical fire rendered visible ; and, thirdly, the power which certain substances possess of conducting the electrical matter ; whence arise the distinction between conductors and non-conductors, or non-electric and electric bodies.—. The electric are those which ere capable of being excited, such as glass, amber, &c. but do not conduct ; the non- electrics are such as conduct the electric matter, but can- KATDRAL AND EXPEB.IHEKTAL UILOSOFUT. 19S not be excited to produce it, such are metals^ stones, and all fluid matters. The bodies which do not conduct the electric fluid are most capable of exciting it, and are supposed to be natu- rally charged or loaded witha quantity of it. They have, therefore, been called electrics ; such are amber, jet, sul- phur, glass, and all precious stones, and resinous sub- stances ,- and the dried parts of animals, except the bones, such as hair, wool, silk, &c. On the contrary, stony substances in general, alum, pyrites, vitriolic acid, black lead, charcoal, and all kinds of metals are among the electrics, or those which conduct the electric fluid. Soon after the discoveries, as above related of Mr Grey, both the English and German philosophers contrived means of accumulating the electric matter, and increas- ing its effects. Not only the electric fire was renderetF visible, but it was made to pass from one conducting body to another. Spirits and other inflammable matters are easily set on fire by the electric spark ; and animal bodies were made to feel what is called the electric shock, that is, the uneasy sensation felt on the electric fluid passing through any part of our bodies. When electrical machines were first constructed, in- stead of a cylinder, a glass globe was made use of; and when this was turned, the hand of the operator was ap- plied to it, and afterwards a piece of glove leather ; but the most effectual and easy means is now found to be a leather cushion covered or smeared over with what is called an amalgam, or a mixture of tin aud mercury. A small chain is also annexed to the apparatus, in order to make a communication with the earth. When the chain is laid over that conductor which communicates with the cushion, then that conductor is no longer insulated, but an immediate- communication is established with the earth ; if, on the contrary, the chair is taken from it, and laid over the prime conductor, different effects are pro- duced, which we shall endeavour hereafter to explain. It is scarcely necessary to observe, that the electrical power is excited by turning the cylinder pretty quickly round, while it rubs against the cushion. On turning the cylinder for a little time in this manner, you will" find that the sparke may be drawn by your knuckle from the 196 TOUNO mam's book of knowledge. prime conductor, which is then charged or loaded with the electric matter, and this matter, has you will perceive, a kind of sulphureous smell. Again, if a metal plate is placed at some distance beneath the conductor, and some light bodies, such as feathers, straws, or little images of men and women cut in paper are presented to it, you will find that they will be first attracted to the conductor, they then become in fact conductors themselves, and, as soon as charged with the electrical matter, they will be re- pelled ; they will then fly to the plate, and discharge the electricity they have received, and then be in a slate to be attracted again, when they will again fly up the con- ductor ; and a very curious effect is produced by the little images being thus put in motion by a kind of magical power. * The human body itself may, in this manner, be made a conductor, but to enable it to accumulate any quantity of the electric matter, the man must be insulated, that is, some non-conducting substanpe must be placed between him and the earth, and he must stand upon a cake of rosin, wax, or sulphur, or upon a stool with glass legs. If, then, he lays his hand upon the conductor, his body will be filled with the electrical matter, and sparks may be drawn from any part, upon being touched by another person ; and each spark will be attended with a crackling noise, and a painful sensation to each party. If, in the same circumstances, spirit of wine is presented to the man in a metal spoon, when he touches it with his finger it will be set on fire ; and gunpowder, or any other very inflammable substance, may be kindled in the same manner. As metals are the most powerful conductors of electri- city, if a wire of iron, or any other material, is suspended by silken cords, (that is, insulated) the electric matter may be conveyed to an immense distance, through dry air, for air is a non-conducting substance when not moist, and therefore will not draw away the electric matter. In this manner some French philosophers -conveyed the electric fire through a circuit of three miles. Nay, though water is a conductor, yet not being so powerful as metalSi Dr. Watson, of Lincoln's Inn Fields, conveyed (as has been observed.) the electric fire, by means of a wire, NA.TUKAI. AND EXPERIM ENTAL PHILOSOPHY. 197 through the Thames, and it set fire to spirit of wine on the opposite side. When any body contains a superfluous quantity of the electric fluid, it is then, according to the Franklinean theory, electrified positive or plus ; when it contains less than its proper share, it is said to be negative or electrified minus, that is, some of its electricity is taken from it. If a rough and smooth body are rubbed together, the smooth body in general will have the positive electricity, and the rough the negative. Thus, in the ordinary operation of the electrical machine, the cylinder is positively electri- fied or plus, and the rubber negative or minus ; and the redundancy of the positive electricity is sent from the cylinder to the prime conductor. Electricity accelerates the exporation of liquors, and the perspiration of animals. There is reason also to ap- prehend that it is not without effect on the vegetable creation, as from some experiments we are led to con- clude, that plants which have been electrified vegetate earlier and more vigorously than those which have not not been subjected to its influence. Electricity is, indeed, a most powerful agent in nature, and we are probably not yet acquainted with all its effects. It is, however, in the atmospherical phenomena that these effects are most apparent and most tremendous. It is to Dr. Franklin that we are indebted for the amazing discovery, that the cause which produces thunder and lightning is precisely the same with that which produces the ordinary phenomena of electricity. This truly eminent philosopher was led to the disco- very by comparing the effects of lightning and those produced by an electrifying machine, and by reflecting that if two gun-barrels, when electrified, will strike at two inches with a loud report, what must be the effect of ten thousand acres of electrified cloud. After much thought upon the subject, he determined to try whether it was not possible to faring the lightning down from the heavens. A thought at once daring and sublime ! With this view he constructed a kite, like those w^hich are used by school-boys, but of a larger size and stronger materials. A pointed wire was fixed upon the kite, in order to attract the electrical matter. The first favour- 198 YOUNG man's book op knowledge, able opportunity he was impatient to try his experiment, and he sent his kite up into a thunder-cloud. The expe- riment succeeded beyond his hopes. The wire in the kite attracted the electricity from the cloud ; it descended along the hempen string, and was received by an iron key attached to the extremity of the hempen string, that part which he held in his hand being of silk, in order that the electric fluid might stop when it reached the kite. At this key he charged phials ; with which phials, thus charged, he kindled spirits, and performed all the com- mon electrical experiments. Thus it is evident that the <;ause of those terrible con- vulsions of nature, which, in, warm climates especially, are attended with such treinendous effects, is no other than a superfluous mass of electrical matter, collected in those immense watery conductors, the clouds ; and that this matter is discharged when an electrical cloud meets with another which is less powerfully charged, or when it is brought sufficiently near the earth to be within the sphere of the electrical attraction. This fact may be proved at almost any time, but particularly in a sultry summer's evening, by repeating Dr. Franklin's experi- ment with the kite. During a thunder storm, the safest place is in the cel- lar ; for when a person is below the surface of the earth, the lightning must strike it before it can reach him, and its force will therefore probably be expended on it. When it is not possible to retreat to the cellar, the best situation is in the middle of a room, not under a metal chandelier, or any other conducting surface; and it is advisable to lay the feet up upon another; or it would be still better to lay two or three beds or mattresses one upon another in the middle of the room, and. place the chairs upon them, the matters, (viz. hair and feathers) with which they are stuffed being non-conductors. Persons in fields should prefer the open parts to any shelter under the trees, &c. The distance of a thunder cloud, and consequently the degree of danger, is not however difficult to be estimated. As light travels at the rate of seventy -two thousand four hundred and twentj' leagues in a second of time, its effects may be considered as instantaneous within any moderate distance; but souni.onthe contrary, is transmitted only NATUaAL AND EXPERIMENTAL FHILOSOFHT. 199 at the rate of three hundred and eighty yards in a second. By accurately observing the time, therefore, which inter- venes between the flash and the noise of thunder which succeeds it, a very near calculation may be made of its distance. The discovery of Dr. Franklin, which ascertained the identity of lightning and the electric fluid, suggested to the same philosopher the means of preserving buildings from lightning, by means of metallic conductors attached to the outside of high buildings. As these are now so common, it is unnecessary to describe them. The prin- ciple on which they are constructed is the well-known fact of metallic bodies being better conductors of the electrical fluid than any others. The conducting rod is pointed at the top, in order the more gradually to attract the electricity from the clouds and the atmosphere ; and the upper part should be made of copper, to prevent its rusting, and the remainder should be painted. The con- ducting rod should not be too slender, and should extend in the earth beyond the building, to convey the electric matter clearly away; and if -it terminate in a pool of water, which is one of the best conductors, it will be still safer. Of Galvanism. This surprising branch of philosophy has been deno- minated Galvanism, from Galvani, an Italian professor, whose experiments led to its discovery. In 1789, some time before he made the most important discovery, he was by accident led to the fact, of electri- city having the property of exciting contractions in the muscles of animals. Stimulated by the then prevailing idea of electricity being a principle inherent in animals, which, acting upon the muscular susceptibility, was the immediate cause of muscular motion, he was induced to persevere in the inquiry, during the prosecution of which he brought to light other facts, which laid the foundation of this valuable scientific acquisition. After having observed that common electricity, even that of lightning, produced vivid convulsions in the limbs of recently killed animals, he ascertained that metallic 200 Y6tJNQ man's book of knowledge. substancefs, by mere contact, under particular circum- stances, excited similar commotions. He found, that it was essential that the forces of metals employed should be of different kinds. He applied one piece of metal to the nerve of the part, and the other to the muscle, and afterwards connected the metals, either by bringing them together, or by connecting them by an arch of a tnetallic substance ; every time this connection was formed the convulsions took place. The diveraity in the metals employed in these experiments appeared, in the very, early stages of this inquiry, to be connected with their respective degrees of oxydability, the one being pos- sessed of that property in a great degree, and the other little liable to the change. Hence zinc, and silver or gold.'was found to produce the greatest muscular con- tractions. The experiments of Galvani were confirmed by many able philosophers; by whom they were re{)eated. Those who particularly distinguished themselves by their labours on the subject were, Valli, Volta, Drs. Monroe and Fowler. As silver and zinc had been fouiid in the minor experi- ments to produce the greatest effect, these metals were employed by Volta in the construction of his battery. The silver plates generally consisted of coins ; and the zinc plates were of the same size, being frequently cast in moulds made, with the silver. The same number of pieces of cloth, pasteboard, or leather, of the same size, and stefepeVl in solution of common salt, were also pro- vided. The above substances were formed into a pile, in the following order, zinc, silver, wet cloth, zinc, silver, wet clotli ; and so on, in the ""same order, till the pile became sufficientl,^ high. If it were to be elevated to any consSiferkble height,' it was usual to support it on the sides with thr^e pillars of glass, or varnished wood. The pile, thus formed, was found to unite the effects of as manypairs of plates as might be employed. Previous- ly tpVthis no other effect had been produced than what resulted from the energy of a single pair of plates. A pile of 50 pairs of plates, with as many corresponding pieces of Wet cloth, was found to give a pretty sfnart shock, similar to an electric shock, every time that a communication was made between the top and bottom of NATtTEAL AND EXPERIMENTAL PaiLOSOPHT. 201 the pile. It was found, however, that little or no shock was perceived, when the hands, or other parts applied, were not previously moistened. It was also observed, that the effect was increased when a larger surface was exposed to the action of the pile. If the communication were made by touching the pile with the tip of each fin- ger merely, the effect was not perceived beyond the joint of the knuckle ; but if a spoon, or other metallic sub- stance, were grasped in moistened hands, the effect was felt up to the shoulder. If the communication be formed between any part of the face, particularly near the eyes, and another part of the body, a vivid flash of light is perceived before the eyes, corresponding with the shock. This phenomenon may be more faintly observed, by pla- cing a piece of silver, as a shilling, between the upper lip and the gum, and laying a piece of zinc at the same time upon the tongue ; upon bringing the two metals in contact, a faint flash of light is perceived. It is singular, that this light is equally vivid in the dark with the strongest light, and whether the eyes be shut or open. The most striking and the most common experiments are those which consist in the galvanic energy upon the organs of animals. If two metallic rods, or, what is equally convenient, two silver spoons, be grasped, one in each hand, the skin of the part being previously moisten- ed with a solution of salt, and one of the spoons be brought ia contact with one end of the battery, the moment the other comes in contact with the other end of the battery, the shock is perceived. Fifty compound plates will give a shock which will be felt in the elbows ; one of a hun- dred will be felt in the shoulders ; a greater number of plates give so forcible a shock to the muscles, as to be dreaded a second time. The shock appears to depiend up- on the number of plates. The stun, or first impression, is much the same, whatever may be the size of the plates; at least, from the size of two inches square to that of ten ; the surfaces being as four to one hundred. The effect upon the muscles, as well as upon the cuticle itself; is very different from large plates, when the series is the same. It appears that the shock, or first impression, is as the series, which is also the intensity of the electricity. If the shock be received from the same number of large 202 ' f oudQ mah'^bpok or knowledge. plates, the same species of commotion is produced in the first instance, as with the small plates ; but if the contact be still kept up, a continuation of the effect is perceived, ■which is felt through the whole arms, producing a vast tremor, attended with a sensation of warmth. If the plates be firom eight to twelve inches square, this effect may be perpetually kept, while the acids in the cells is expended. Though small plates have been recommended for medi- cal purposes, vfe think large ones will be found more likely to have a good effect If the medical advantage is derived from the stimulus of galvanism, the effect of a perpetual and regular current of that stimulus must cer- tainly be preferable to the rapid transmission of a small quantity. The galvanic shock may also be conveniently given, by immersing the hands or the feet into vessels containing a solution of salt, and bringing wires from each end of the battery into the liquid. If any other part of the body is intended to be operated upon, a sponge moistened with salt water, fastened to a metal plate. connected with one end of the battery, may be applied to the part, and a hand or foot put into a vessel of the same liquid, connect- ed by a wire with the other end of the battery. Small bits of sponge, oi bits of leather, may be fastened to the end of the connecting wires, and made more or less moist, as the delicacy of the part may require. This contri- vance is very useful in operating upon the eyes or ears. When galvanism is used medically, it should first be applied very feebly, and the effect gradually increased, as the susceptibility of the part will admit. If the part has, from disease, become so languid and insusceptible as not to be sensible of the effect, itshould be scarified, or by other means have the cuticle removed. This is sometimes the case with languid tumours, and some cases of paralysis. Though we had no great opinion of the medical agency of galvanism, we have lately heard of several very suc- cessful cases; one of which, in particular, was the cure of perfect loss of speech. If the naked metal of the wire, from a powerful battery, be applied to the skin, it becomes cauterized and blistered. If the plate, covered with a moistened sponge, coD' GEOMETRY. 203 nected with one ead of the hatterj, be applied to the back of the head, at the same time that the moistened Bngers of one hand are slightly applied to the other end, a smarting sensation will be felt in the part, and a taste at the same time will be felt in the mouth, similar, but in a greater degree, to that occasioned by the piece of zinc, and the shilling, when laid upon the tongue. This ex- periment succeeds the best with a small number of large plates, as much as ten inches square. CHAP. VII. GEOMETRY. Geometry is the science of extension, and is employ- ed in the consideration of lines, surfaces, and solids 5 as all extension is distinguished into length, breadth^'and thickness. This science had its rise among the Egyptians, -who were in a manner compelled to invent it, to remedy the confusion which generally happened in their lands, from the overflowing of the river Nile, which carried away all boundaries, and effaced all the limits of their possessions. And thus this invention, which at first consisted only in measuring the lands, that every one might have what be- longed to him, was called land-measuring, or geometry. But the Egyptians afterwards applied themselves to more subtle researches, and, from a very mechanical exercise, insensibly produced this fine science, which deserves to be placed among those of the first rank. Geometry is not barely useful, but even absolutely ne- cessary. It is by the help of geometry that astronomers make their observations ; regulate the duration of times, seasons, years, and cycles ; and measure the distance, motion, and magnitudes of the heavenly bodies. It is by geometry that geographers shew us the magni- tude of the whole earth, delineate the extent of seas, and tile divisions of empires, kingdoms, and provinces. 494 " it is iff onli this science that atchitects derive their' just measures in the construction of public edifices, as well as of pfrivate houses. It is by its assistance that engineers conduct all their works, take thesituations andplans, of towns, the distance of places, and, in fine, the measure of such things as are only accessible to the sight. Such as are in the nlilitary service are obliged to apply themselves to this science. It is not only an introduction to fortification (which shews them how to build ramparts for the defence of places, and to construct and make ma chines to destroy them), but also gives them great know- ledge and readiness in the military art, in the drawing up an. army in order of battle, and in marking out the ground in encampments. It also shews them how to make maps of countries ; to take the plans of towns, forts, and cas- tles ; to measure all kihds of dimensions, accessible or in- accessible ; to give designs ; and, in fine, to render them- selves as serviceable by their understanding and science, as by their strength and courage. AJl.who profess designing should know something of geometry, because they cannot otherwise perfectly under- stand architecture or perspective, which are two things absolutely necessary in their art. Music, mechanics, and in a word, all the sciences which consider things susceptible of more or less, i. e. all the precise and accurate sciences, may be referred to geometry ; for all speculative truths consisting only in the relations of things, and in the relations between those re- lations, thej' may be all referred to lines. Consequences may be drawn from them ; and those consequences, again, being rendered sensible by lines, they become permanent objects, constantly exposed to a rigorous attention and examination. And thus we have infinite opportunities, both of inquiring into their certainty, and pursuing them farther. The reason, for instance, why we know so distinctly, and mark so precisely, the concords called octave, fifth, fourth, dfc. is, that we have learnt to express sounds by lines, i. e. by chords accurately divided ; and that we know th|t the chord which sounds octavo is double bf tliat which it makes octave withal ; that the fifth is in eEOHETKY. SOS the sesquialterate ratio, or as three to two , and so of the rest. The ear itself cannot judge of sounds with such preci- sion ; its judgments are too faint, vague, and variahle, to form a science. The finest, best-tuned ear cannot distin- guish many of the differences of sound ; whence many musicians deny any such differences ; as making their sense their judge. Some, for instance, admit no differ- ence between an octave and three ditones ; and others none between the greater and lesser tone : the comma, which is the real difference, is insensible to them , and much more the scisma, which is only half the comma. ■ It is only by reason, then, that we learn, that the length of the chord which makes the difference between certain sounds being divisible into several parts, there may be a great number of different sounds contained therein, useful in music, which yet the ear cannot distinguish. Whence it follows, that, had it not been for arithmetic and geometry, we had no such thing as regular, fixed music ; and that we could only have succeeded in that art by good luck, or force of imagination ; i. e. music would not have been a science founded on incontestible demonstration ; though we allow that the tunes composed by force of genius and imagination are usually more agreeable to the ear than those composed by rule. So, in mechanics, the heaviness of a weight, and the distance of the centre of that weight from the fulcrum, or point it is sustained by, being susceptible of plus and minus, they may both be expressed by lines ; whence geometry becomes applicable hereto ; in virtue thereof, infinite discoveries have been made, of the utmost use in life. Geometrical lines and figures are not only proper to represent to the imagination the relations between magni- tudes, or between things susceptible of more and less, as spaces, times, weights, motions, &c. ; but they may even represent things which the mind can no otherwise con- ceive, e. g. the relations of incommeasurable magnitudes. We do not, however, pretend, that all subjects men may have occasion to inquire into, can be expressed by lines. There are many not reducible to any such rule ; thus, the knowledge of an infinitely powerful; infinitely 18 806 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. just God, on whom all things depend, and who would have all his creatures execute his orders, to become ca- pable of being happy, is the principle of all morality, from which a thousand undeniable consequences may be drawn, and yet neither the principle nor the consequences can be expressed by lines or figures. Indeed, the ancient Egyptians, we read, used to ex- press all their philosophical and theological notions by geometrical lines. In their researches into the reason of things, they observed that God and nature affect perpen- diculars, parallels, circles, triangles, squares, and harmo- nioal proportions ; which engaged the priests and philo- sophers to represent the Divine and natural operations by such figures ; in which they were followed by Pytha- goras, Plato, &c. But it must be observed, that this use of geometry among the ancients was not strictly scientifical, as among us ; but rather symbolical. They did not argue, or reduce things and properties unknown from lines ; but represent- ed or delineated things that were known. In effect, they ■were not used as means or instruments of discovering, but images or characters to preserve or communicate the dis- coveries made. DEFINITIONS. OF A POINT. A point is that which has no parts ; that is, it has no length, breadth, nor thickness. But as no operation can be performed with- out the assistance of visible and corporeal things, we must therefore represent the ma- a thematical point by the natural one, which is an object of our sight, the smallest and least sensible, and is made by the prick of a pen or pencil ; as the point marked a. A central point, or centre, is a point from whence a circle, or circumfernece, is described ; or rather, it is the middle of a figure. A secant point is a point through which lines cross each other, and is usually called a section. eEOMETBT. OF LINES. A line is a length without breadth. The line is nothing more than the passage made by a point from one place to another, and would be impercep- tible, were it not described by the natural point, which by its course represents it to us. There are many sorU of lines, as the point is suscep *ible of different movements. A rigki Zineis that which is equallycom- prised between its two extremities ; or, it is that which a point describes in its passage a b diiectly ftom one place to another, without any turnings ; as ab. A curve liiie is that which departs from a ^ — ~.^ direct opposition to its extremities, by one c/ x- or more turnings or windings ; as cd. c _ p When this Hne is described by the compasses, it is called circular. A mixed lineis that which is both right and curve. The liiie receives several other denominations, accord- mg to its various positions and properties. A perpendicular is a right line which a falls upon or is raised from another, mak- ing the angles on each side of it equal ; as AB. B A plummet line is that which descends directly down- wards, without inclining either to the right or left, and which, were it infinitely prolonged, would pass through the centre of the world; The horizontal is a line in equilibrium, or that inclines equally in all its parts; as s e DE. ■ Parallel lines are those which are oppo- site each other, and at equal distances ; as h H. 2dS ^OTJNG man's book of knowledge. An oblique is a line which is neither ho- rizontal nor a plummet, but slanting or across ; as fg. The base is the line upon which any figure rests. Sides are the lines which inclose any figure, A diagonal is a right line which crosses anj' figure to two opposite angles of the same figure ; as ab. A diameter is a right line which crosses any figure through its centre, and is termi- nated by its circumference ; as cd. A spiral line is a curve line which de- parts from its centre, and the farther, in proportion as it turns round itself ; as ep. A chord or substence, is a right line ex- tended from one end of an arch to the other end thereof; as gh. Aa.arch is a part of a circle or circumfe-, rence ; as cm. A tangent line is that which touches some figure without passing into it, and without being able to pass into it, or cross it, even though it were prolonged ; as lm. A scant is a line drawn from the centre of a circle, cutting it, and meeting with a tangent without ; as lo. If two lines meet at their extremities, they either meet directly or indirectly. If directly, then tney make but one line ; if indirectlj', they constitute an angle. 07 ANGLES. An angle is the indirect course of two lines to the same point ; or, rather, it is the space contained between the indirect course of two lines to the same point. When this course is described by two right lines, the angle is called rectilinear ; and when it is described by two curve lines, it is called curvilinear ; but when it is described by two lines, one of which is a right and the other a curve, it is called mixtilinear. OEOMETRT. 209 The rectilinear angJe, according as it is more or less open, receives particular denominations, as right, acute, obtuse ; therefore the terms rectilinear, curvilinear, and mixtilinear, have regard only to the nature of the lines ; and those of right, acute, and obtuse, respect only the quantity of space contained between the said lines. A right angle is when one of its lines is perpendicular upon the other ; as edf. An acute angle is that which is less open E f, than the light ; as edo. An obtuse angle is that which is more open than the right ; as fdg. P rjj The letter d in the middle shews the angle. DEFINITION OF SUPERFICIES. A swperfice is that which has length and breadth, without thickness. According to geometricians, as the line is a production of the point, so the super- ficies is a production of the line. Thus, supposing the line ef was from each of its extremities drawn to gh, it constitutes the superficies ef, gh, which is an extent be- tween lines, that has length and breadth, but not depth or thickness; and this is fre- quently called a surface ; or if it is consi- dered with regard to its extremities, which are the lines by which it is encompassed, it is then called &. figure. If a superficies is raised, it is called a convex ; if it is hollow, it is called concave ; and if it is flat and even, it is called a plane. The termination is the bounds or limits of any thing. — The point is the termination of the line; the line is the termination of the superfices; and the supeifices is the termination of a body. 210 YouNc man'9 book of knowledge. Of Rectilinear Superflces or Figwres, Superfices have particular names according to the num ber of their sides. A irigon, or triangle, is a figure of three sides. A tetragon, or square, figure of four sides. A pentagon, figure of five sides. An hexagon, figure of six sides. An heptagon, figure of seven sides. An octagon, figure of eight sides. A tionagon, figure of nine sides. A decagon, figure of ten sides. An undecagon, figure of eleven sides. A duedecagon, figure of twelve sides. All these figures are also called by the general name of polygons, OP TRIANGLES. The fewest number of right lines that can include a space, are three, which form a figure called a triangle, or three-cornered figure, consisting of six parts, viz. three sides and three angles. Triangles are distinguished by the nature of their angles, and the disposition of their sides, m the following manner. eSOMETRT. 211 An Eqailateral Triangle is that in which the three sides, or lines are equal, as ABC. II. An Isosceles Triangle is that which has onlj two equal sides, as bef. III. A right-angled Triangle has one of its angles right ; the side opposite the right angle is called the hypotenuse, and E' the other two sides are called legs ; that which stands upright is called the per- pendicular, and the other the base : thus Bc is the hjrpotenuse, ac the perpendicu- lar, and AB the base ; the angles opposite the two legs are both acute. IV. Au Acute-angled Triangle has all its angles acute, or none of them equal to a right angle, as deg. An Obtuse-angled Triangle has one of its angles obtuse, or greater than a right angle, as acb ; the other two angles are acute. ^ All triangles, that are not right-angled, whether they are acute or obtuse, are in general terms called oblique- angled triangles, without any other distinction. 212 VOUNG MAN S BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. Of Figures of Four Sides. A. is a square, a figure of four equal sides, and four right angles. B. a Long-square, a rectangled super- fices, which has its angles right, but not its sides equal. C. a Rhumlus, or a quadrilateral figure, whose four sides are equal, but not its four angles. D. a Rhomboides, whose opposite sides and angles are equal, though the figure is neither equiangular nor equilateral. BD. are also Parallelograms, which are quadrilateral figures, whose opposite sides are parallel. A Trapezium is a figure, two of whose sides only are parallel, the two others equal. A Trapeziod, one whose sides and angles are unequal. All other figures of more than four sides are called by the general name of multilaterals. GEOMETRT. 213 Of Curves, or Curvilinear Figures. A. is a circle, which is a superfices or figure perfectly round, described from a centre, whose circumference is equally dis- tant from it. The circumference is the extremity of the circle, or the line which Incloses it. B. an Oval, which is a curvilinear figure described from several centres, and all whose diameters divide equally in two. C an Elipds, which is also a curvilinear figure described from several centres, but in the form of an egg, and of which there ^\ is but one diameter that divides it equally in two. Of Mixed Figures. A semicircle is so much of a circle as is contained from its diameter either way. A sector is a figure composed of two semidiameters, with more or less than half of the circle. Concentric figures are those whose centres are the same. Eccentric figures are those contained in some measure within each other, but which have not the same centre. Of Regular and Irregular Figures. A regular figure, is that whose opposite sides are equal and the same. An irregular figure, is that composed of unequal sides and angles. Similar figures are those of which the lines of one are proportioned to the lines of the other, though one may be greater or lesser than the other. Equal figures are those whose centres are the same, and which may be similar or dissimilar. An equiangular figure has all its angles equal. 214 TotNG man's book op knowlsdgb. One figure is equiangular to another, when all the angles of one are equal to all the angles of the other. An equilateral figure is that whose sides are all equaL Similar curvilinear figures are those in which may be inscribed, or round, which may be circumscribed, similar polygons Axioms. An axiom is such a common, plain, self-evident, and received notion, that it cannot be made more plain and evident by demonstration, because it is itself better known than any thing that can be brought to prove it. 1. Things equal to one single thing, are in themselves equal, 2. If equal things are added to things that are equal, the whole will be equal. 3. If equal things are added to things that are unequal the remainder will be unequal. 5. If equal things are taken away from things which are uneqnal, the remainder will be unequal. 6. Things which are double the proportion of another, are in themselves equal 7. Things which have but half the proportion of other equal things, are in themselves equal. We have thus given the outline of this useful science, but its principles may be best known by attentive study of the Elements of Euclid. This most renowned of ma- thematicians was born at Alexandria, in Egypt, where he taught his favourite science with great reputation in the reign of Ptolemy Lagos, about 280 years before Christ. He reduced to order the fundamental principles of pure mathematics, which had been delivered down by Thales, Pythagoras, and Euxodus, and added many others of his own, on which account to him is attributed the honour of reducing arithmetic and geometry to the form of sciences. eGOSRAFHT AKD A8TB0NOMT. 215 CHAP. VIII. GEOGRAPHY AND ASTRONOMY. The science of geography chiefly consists in a descrip- tion of the surface of the terrestrial globe, which is naturally composed of two parts, land and water, and is therefore called- the terraqueous globe. Each of these elements are subdivided into various parts, and are distin- guished by diflFerent names, viz. the earth into continents, islands, peninsulas, isthmus's, and promontories or capes; the waters into oceans, seas, straits, bays or gulphs, lakes, and rivers. The terrestrial globe is 360 degrees in circumference, every degree being 60 geographical miles ; so that the whole circuit is 21,600 such mUes; and if the diameter was a third part of the circumference, the diameter would be 7,200 miles ; but the diameter is as 7 to 22, which makes it something less than a third part of the circum- ference. If we reduce the geographical miles to Enghsh miles, the circumference of the earth will be about 24,000 miles, and the diameter 8000. The terrestrial globe rests upon nothing, but appears equally surrounded by the heavens on every side ; for the better understanding whereof, it will be necessary to ob- serve the several imaginary circles described on the arti- ficial globe, viz. 1. The equator, and the cHcles parallel to it. — -2. The first meridian, and the rest of the meridional lines. — 3. The zodiac, which includes the ecliptic. — 4. The horizon. — S, The two tropics. — 6. The arctic and antarctic circles. It is supposed also, that a line passes through the centre of the globe, called its axis, round which it moves every 24 hours, the ends of which axis are called the poles of the earth, that in the north called the arctic or north pole, from a star in the heavens oppo- site to it, which forms part of the constellation called the Little Bear, and that in the south called the antarctic or south pole, as diametrically opposite to the other. By the equator the globe is divided into two equal parts or hemispheres, and on this circle are marked the Sl6 TouNG man's book of knowledge. degrees of longitude, from the first meridian, either east or west. The parallel circles are so called from their running parallel to the equator, of which there are nine in number inclusive between the equator, and either pole, ten degrees distant from each other, every degree of lati- tude being 60 geographical miles, and every ten degrees 600 such miles. Consequently it is 5,400 miles from the equator to either pole, which is one quarter of the cir- cumference of the globe. The first mendian is represented by the brazen circle in which the globe moves, dividing it into the eastern and western hemispheres, on which circle are marked the degrees of latitude, which are counted northward from the equator to the north pole, and southward from the equator to the south pole. Where the meridional lines are 24 in number, they are 15 degrees, or one hour asunder; those who live u.ider the meridian line on the right hand, that is, to the east- ward of the first meridian, have the sun an hour before us ; and those who live under the meridional line on the left hand, that is, west of us, have the sun an hour aftei us : and this shews what is meant by eastern and western longitude. And as longitude is nothing more than the distance any place is east or west of the first meridian, so latitude is the distance a place is from the equator, north or south. If it be north of the equator, it is called north latitude ; and if it be south of the equator, it is called south latitude. The first meridian in the old maps was placed either at Teneriffe, one of the Canary Isles, 17 degrees west of London, or at Ferro, another of the Canary Isles, 19 degrees west of London. But every nation almost at this day places the first meridian at their respective capital cities in their several maps. In English maps London is made the first meridian. And in English maps the upper end is always the north, the lower end the south ; the right hand east, and the left hand west ; the degrees of longitude being marked at the top and bottom of each map, and the degrees of latitude on the sides of the map. The zodiac is that circle which cuts the equator ob- liqueljir and is divided into twelve signs, through which OBOeRAPUY AND ASTRONOHT. 217 the sun seems to pass within the space of 12 months, each sign containing 30 degrees of longitude. The ecliptic is a line passing through the middle of the zodiac, and shews the sun's, or rather the earth's path or orbit, in which it mov^s annually. The horizon is the broad circle in which the globe stands, dividing it into the upper and lower hemispheres. The place where any one stands, is the centre of this horizon and hemisphere ; the sensible horizon seems to touch the surface of the earth, and is the utmost limits of our sight, upon an extensive plain. The rational horizon is supposed parallel to this, and to be extended to the heavens. The poles of our horizon are two imaginary points in the heavens, called the zenith and nadir ; the zenith being the vertical point directly over our heads, and the nadir that point of the heavens under our feet, diametrically opposite to the zenith. As the earth turns round upon its own axis every 24 hours, which makes day and night, that part of the heavens which was over our heads at 12 at noon roust of course be under our feet at 12 at night; but speaking properly, no part of the earth can be said to be uppermost or lowermost. All the inhabitants of the earth seem to have the earth under their feet, and the heavens over their heads, and ships sail with their bottoms to each other. The tropics shew how far the sun, or rather the earth, proceeds north or south of the equator every year. The tropic of Cancer surrounds the globe 23J degrees north of the equator, and the tropic of Capricorn 23J south of the equator. The polar circles are drawn 23J degrees distant from each pole, and 66J distant from the equator. The earth is divided into five zones, viz. the torrid zone, the two' frigid zones, and the two temperate zones, and are denominated zones, because they encompass the earth like a girdle. The torrid zone lies between the two tropics, and is so denominated from the excessive heat of the climate, the sun passing over it twice every year. 19 818 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. The two frigid zones lie within the polar circles, and are so called from the excessive cold within these circles. The northern temperature zone lies between the tropic of Ca^icer and the arctic circle ; and the southeriitemperate zone, between the tropic of Capricorn and the antarctic circle. What is generally understood by the elevation of the pole, is the height of the pole above the horizon, and is always equal to the latitude of any place, as the South of England lies in 50 degrees north latitude, so the north pole must of course be elevated 50 degrees above the ho- rizon there ; for which reason, the latitude of a place, and the elevation of the pole, are used promiscuously to ex- press the same thing. The brazen horary circle, fixed on every globe with an index, shews how many hours, and consequently how many degrees, any place is east or west of another place ; for as every 15 degrees east or west is an hour, so every hour is 15 degrees. The quadrant of altitude is a pliant brass plate divided into 90 degrees, one fourth of the circumference of the globe, by which th^ distances of places may be found, and many useful problems resolved. The inhabitants of the earth are distinguished in regard to their respective situations, and are denominated either Periaeci, Antaeci, or Antipodes. The Periffici are situate under the same parallel, but opposite meridians : It is midnight with one when it is noon with the other, but the length of their days and their seasoivs arc the same ; these are found by turning the horary index twelve hours, or turning the globe half round. Antoeci are situate under the same meridian, but op- posite parallels; these have the seasons opposite to ours, and the same length of days ; but when their days are longest, ours are shortest. These are found by num- bering as many degrees on the opposite side of the equa- tor as we are on this. The Antipodes lie under opposite meridians, and oppo- site parallels ; these have different seasons, and their noon- day is our midnight, and their longest day our shortest : These are found by turning the horary index 12 hours CEOOHAPHV AND ASTROXOMT. 219 from the given place, or turning the globe half round, and then counting as many degrees on the opposite side of the equator as the given place is on this. The inhabitants of the earth are also distinguished by their different shadows at noon-day, and are denominated either Amphiseii, Ascii, Heteroscii, or Periscii. The Amphiseii inhabit the torrid zone, and have their noon-day shadows both north and south : When the sun is south of them, then their shadows are north, and when the sun is north of them, their shadows are south ; these are also called Ascii, because the sun is vertical twice every year at noon-day, and then they have no shadow. The Heteroscii, who inhabit the temperate zones, have their shadows always one way at noon-day. In the northern temperate zone their shadows are always north ; and in the southern temperate zone, their shadows are always south at noon-day. The Periscii inhabit within the polar circles, and have their shadows eveiy way, the sun being above their hori- zon all the 24 hours, several months in the year, viz. when it is on the same side of the equator the3' were of : and if there were any inhabitants at either of the poles, they would have but one day of six months, and one night of the same length. Climates are spaces on the surface of the globe, bound- ed by imaginary circles parallel to the equator, so broad that the length of the day in one exceeds that of another half an hour, of which there are 60 in number, viz. 24 from the equator to each of the polar circles, and six from either of the polar circles to the respective poles, between which last, there is a difference of an entire month ; the sun appearing in the first one month above the horizon wiihout setting, in the second two months, and so on to the pole, where there is a day of six months, and the nights proportionable, when the sun is on the opposite fide of the equator. These climates are not of an equal breadth, those near the equator being much the broadest : For example, the first climate next the equator is eight degrees, odd mi- nutes, in breadth, whereas the 11th climate is little more than two degrees broad. The en 1 of one climate is the beginning of the next. — 220 YOUNG Mian's book of knowledge. At the first climate, which begins at the equator, the day is just twelve hours long at the beginning of the climate, and 12 hours 30 minutes at the end of it, viz. in 8 degrees 25 minutes of latitude, where the second climate begins. Every degree of latitude contains 60 geographical miles. Every degree of longitude counted on the equator, also is 60 geographical miles ; but as the meridional lines ap- proach nearer each other as you advance towards either pole, consequently the number of miles between those lines must lessen in proportion ; as, for instance, a degree of longitude in 52 degrees of latitude contains but 37 miles, though it be full 60 miles upon the equator. The inhabitants of the earth are sometimes distinguish- ed according to the various positions of their horizon, as they are situate in a right sphere, a parallel sphere, or an oblique sphere. In a right sphere the equator passes through the zenith and nadir, and the parallel circles fall pei-pendicularly on the horizon, which is the case of those people who live under the ^equinoctial line. In a parallel sphere the poles are in the zenith and nadir ; the equator is parallel to, and coincides with the horizon, and the parallel circles are parallel to the horizon, which can only be said of people under either pole. In an oblique sphere the fahabitants have one of the poles above and the other under the horizon, and the equator and parallel circles cutting the horizon obliquely, as is the case of all people that do not live under the equinoctial line. To rectify the globe, in order to find the true situation of any place. Let the globe be set upon a level table, and the brazen meridian stand due north and south, then bring the given place to the brazen meridian, and let there be 90 degrees between that place and the horizon both north and south, and the given place will be in the zenith; the globe being thus rectified, you may proceed to solve ary problem. GEOGRAPHY AXD ASTRONOMY. 221 To find the longitude and latitude of a giveii place. The longitude of any place -will be found by number- ing on the equator so many degrees as the place lies east 01' west of the first meridian : And the latitude will be found by counting so many degrees on the brazen me- ridian as the place lies north or south of the equator. — you must turn the globe, therefore, either east or west, till the given place is brought to the brazen meridian, and you will see the degree of longitude marked on the equator; and the latitude is found at the same time, only by numbering the degrees on the brazen meridian either north or south of the equator, till you come to the given place. To find what places are under tJie same meridian with the given place. Bring the given place to the brazen meridian, and ob- serve what places lie under that meridian either north or south of the equator. To find -what places have the same latitude. Turn the globe round, and observe on the brazen me- ridian what places come under the same degree of latitude as the given place is. To find the sun^s place in the ecliptic at any time of the year. When you know the month, and day of the month, you will find upon the wooden horizon the sign in which the sun is opposite to the day of the month, which is the sun's place in the ecliptic at that time. To know the length of the days at any time, and at any place. Bring the given place to the zenith ; then bring the sun's place in the ecliptic to the east side of the horizon, and set the index of the hour circle to 12 at noon, or the upper figure of 12, and turn the globe till the said place in the ecliptic touch the western side of the horizon, and IP* 222 vouNO man's book of knowlcbue. the number of hours between the upper figure of 12, and the hour the index points to, to shew how many hours the day is long, and consequently the length of the night ; because so many hours as the day falls short of 24, must be the length of the night ; as when the day is 16 hours long, the night must of course be 8 hours long. To find those places on the globe where the sun is in the meridian at any time. The globe being rectified, and the place where you are brought to the brazen meridian, set the index of the ho- rary circle at the hour of the day at that place, then turn the globe till the index points to the upper 12, and you will see all those places where the sun is in the meridian ; as for example, if it be 1 1 in the morning at London, and you set the index at 11, turn the globe till the index points at the upper 12, and you will find Naples, which is an hour or 15 degrees east of London ; and in all places under the same meridian as Naples is, it must consequently be 12 at noon at that time. In like manner, if it be 4 in the afternoon at London, and you set the index at 4, and turn the globe till the index points at the upper 12, you will find Barbadoes, which is four hours or 60 degrees west of London ; and at all places under the same meridian as Barbadoes is, it must consequently be 12 at noon at that time. To fi,nd where the sun is vertical at any time of the year. The sun can only be vertical in such places as lie be- tween the ^ropics ; and, to know this, you are only to find what place the sun is in the ecliptic, and bringing that place to the brazen meridian, observe what degree of latitude it has ; for in all places in that latitude the sun will be vertical that day, and you will find all those places only by turning the globe round, and observing them as they come to the brazen meridian. To find where the sun is above the horizon, or shines without setting all the 24 hours, in the northern hemi- sphere. The day given must be when the sun is in the northern GEOGRAPHY AUD ASTRONOMY. 223 signs, and, having found the sun's place in the ecliptic, yoLi must bring that place to the brazen meridian; thgn count the same number of degrees from the north pole towards the equator, as there is between the equator and the sun's place in the ecliptic ; then turn the globe round ; and in all the places passing under the last degree count- ed fom the north pole, the sun begins to shine constantly, without setting on the given day; and the rule will serve vice versa for any place in the southern hemisphere when the sun is in the northern signs. To find the length of the longest and shortest days and nights at any place in the northern hemisphere. Rectify the globe according to the latitude of the given place, or. which is the same thing, bring the given place to the zenith, then bring the first degree of Cancer to the east side of the horizon, and setting the index of the hour circle to the upper figure of 12, turn the globe till the sign of Cancer touch the west side of the horizon, and observe the number of hours between the upper figure of 12 and the hour the index points to, and that is the length of the longest day, and the shortest night consequently consists of so many hours as the day falls short of 24; and as for the length of the days and nights in the south- ern latitude, they are just the reverse of those in the northern latitude. To find in what place the sun is rising or setting, or in its meridian; or what parts of the earth are enlightened at any particular time. First find where the sun is vertical at the given hour, and bring that place to the zenith, under the brazen me- ridian ; then observe what places are in the eastern semi- circle of the horizon, for there the sun is setting, and in those places in the western semicircle of the horizon the sun is rising, and in all places under the brazen meridian it is noon day : all those places in the upper hemisphere of the globe are enlightened, and those in the lower he- misphere are in darkness. • ,. 224 YOUNG man's book of KNOWtEDfiE. To find the distance of one place from another upon the globe. ' If both places lie under the same menrlian bring them to the biazen meridian, and count thereoa how many degrees of- latitude the two places are from each other, ■which, being reduced to unit^ is the true distance : every degree of altitude containing 60 geographical miles, as has been observed already ; and 60 geographical miles make near 70 English miles. If the two places lie under the same parallel of latitude, then observe on the equator how many degrees of longitude they are asunder, and observe how manj' miles a degree of longitude makes in that latitude ; and then numbering the degrees of longi- tude on the equator, reduce them to miles, and that will give the distance of the two places. For instance, sup- pose Rotterdam lies in 52 degrees of north latitude, and 4 degrees of eastern longitude, and Pymont lies under the same parallel 5 degrees east of Rotterdam, and I find that every degree of longitude in this latitude makes 37 miles, then I multiply 37 by 5, which makes 185, being the number of miles between Rotterdam and Pymont. Where the two places differ both in longitude and lati- tude, the distance may be found by measuring the number of degrees they are asunder by the quadrant of altitude, and reducing those degrees to miles. For example, if we find the two places are the length of 10 degrees asunder by the quadrant, they must necessarily be 600 miles dis- tant from each other; because 60 miles, which is the ex- tent of 1 degree of latitude, multiplied by 10, makes 600 miles on the globe, in whatever direction one place lies from another, as the north, east, south, west, &c. To find how one place bears off another ; that is, whether it lies noHh-east, south-west] or any other point of the compass from another place. Bring one of the places to the zenith, and fix the quadraTit of altitude there ; then extend^ it to the other platfe 'wrhose bearing you would know, and the lower part of the quadrant will intersect the wooden horizon at GEOOlIAPHr AND ASTRONOMY. 225 the point of the compass inscribed on the wooden horizon, which is the true bearing of the given place. To find on what point of the compass the sun rises or sets at any place. Bring the given place to the zenith, and, having found the sun's place in the ecliptic, bring the same to the eastern side of the horizon, and it will shew on what point of the compass the sun rises. On the other hand, if you bring the sun's place in the ecliptic to the west side of the horizon, it will shew on what point of the compass the sun sets. The world is divided into four quarters, viz. Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. Tlie population of the globe is computed at 953 mil- lions. In Russia there are 17 inhabitants to each square mile ; in Italy, 170; and in the Netherlands, 275. This great disproportion arises from the difference with respect to climate, agriculture, and commerce. Europe, the most eminent part of the globe with re- spect to literature, arts, sciences, and commerce, is far the least in point of extent. It is about 3000 miles long, 2,.500 broad, and its area, according to Templeman's sur- vey, is 258,000 miles. It lies almost entirely in the northern temperate zone; a small part of it at the northern extremity is extended bej'ond the arctic circle, but it does not approach nearer to the equator than 35j degrees. On the east and south- east, it is bounded by Asia ; on the west, north-west, and south-west, by the Atlantic Ocean ; and on the south by the Mediterranean Sea. The number of inhabitants is computed to amount to 153 millions. It is the most po- pulous of all the quarters of the globe, in proportion to its size, and enjoys the most uniform temperature of climate; the soil is well adapted to tillage or pasturage, yields a copious supply of the necessaries of life, and its mines produce the most useful metals. The character of the Europeans seems to partake the advantages of the cli- mate, and is remarkable, particularly in the more northern parts, for the ingenuity, industry, and enterprising temper of the natives. The manufactures, particularly of ths 226 YOUNG aian's book of knowledge. English and French, are conveyed to the most remote countries, and are found to contribute to the comfort of all nations. Owing to the influence of a mild and bene- volent religion, the horrors of war are softened ; and from the prevalence of commerce, a more general and more amicable intercourse is carried on than in any other part of the globe. The principal divisions of Europe are as follows : Eng- land, Scotland, and Ireland, Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, the Austrian Netherlands, the United Provinces, German}', Bohemia, Hungary, Transylvania, Sclavonia, Croatia, Turkey ia Europe, Poland, Prussia, Russia, Sweden, Denmark, and Norway. The independent states are the United Kingdoms of Great-Britain and Ireland, France, Russia, the larger part of Germany, Prussia, Sweden, and Denmark and Norway. Many of the minor states have long been in an unsettled and pre- carious condition, the crowned gamblers on the field of political aggrandisement, regarding them but as mere " make weights" in adjusting the great balance of power. The British dominions formerly included several pro- vinces in France. They now comprehend England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland; the Isles of Wight, Scilly, Man, Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney, and Sark ; Gibraltar in Spain — Malta in the Mediterranean Sea — Jamaica, Barbadoes, St. Christopher's, Antigua, Nevis, Montserrat, Dominica, Martinico, St. Vincent, Grenada, &c. &c. in the West Indies — the Island of St. Helena, settlements upon the coast of Africa, and extensive territories in the East Indies — the provinces of Nova Scotia, Canada, and New Britain, in North America; as well as Newfound, land. Cape Breton, St. John's, the Bermudas or Somer's Islands, and the Lucayos or Bahama Islands, upon the coast of North America. To these may be added the settlement of Botany Bay upon the coast of New Holland, and Norfolk Island in the South Pacific Ocean. The extent of England is 320 miles from north to South, that is, from Berwick upon Tweed to the Isle of Wight ; and 285 miles from east to west, that is, from the South Foreland, in Kent, to the Land's End, in Cornwall It contains 40 counties, and 12,000,000 in- habitants. eEOGRAPUY AND ASTRONOMY. 227 Wales, divided into North and South, is 130 miles long, find 87 broad. It contains 12 counties, and about 300,000 inhabitants. Scotland, exclusive of its numerous islands, is 270 miles long, from the Mull of Galloway, in the south, to Cape Wrath, in the north ; and 140 miles from east to west, in the broadest part. It contains 13 shires north, and 18 shires south of the river Tay, and about two millions and a half of inhabitants. Ireland is 285 miles from north to south, and 180 from east to west, in the broadest part. It is divided into four provinces, and 32 counties, and contains about seven mil- lions of inhabitants. England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, constituting the United Kingdom of England and Ireland, are repre- sented in the Imperial Parliament by the following pro- portions of members: England and Wales send 513 members, Scotland 45, Ireland 100, making the House of Commons amount in all to 658. Scotland sends twelve peers to the House of Lords, and Ireland thirty-two; but the English peers, who are members of that house, are uulimited. Asia has been renowned in history from the beginning of time. There the all-wise Creator planted the Garden of Eden, and placed in it the first parents of the human race. After the deluge it became again the nursery of the world. There the sons of Noah dwelt, and colonies went forth to people the globe ; there the Redeemer of mankind appeared, to preach the gospel of life and im- mortality. In Asia, the ancient monarchies of Assyria and of Persia were erected. It is much larger than either Europe or Africa; it is about 48,000 miles in length, and 43,000 in breadth, and contains an area of 8 millions of miles. Except China, and the greater part of Hindoo. Stan, it is thinly inhabited. The population is computed to amount to five hundred millions. The soil is rich ; and it produces corn in the greatest abundance, the most delicious fruits, plants, drugs, and gums; and in its mines are found diamonds, gold, silver, copper, and iron. The difference of climate, manners, and productions, is so strongly marked, that they cannot be included under ona description. No objects which it presents are more inte- 828 rouNG man's book of knowledge. resting to us than the Chinese empire, and the British territories in Hindoostan. Africa is separated from Europe by the Mediterranean Sea, and is united to Asia by the isthmus of Suez. It is much larger than Europe, but less than either Asia or America. It is not broken, like Europe and the south of Asia, into several irregular tracts of land by the interposi- tion of the sea, but has the appearance of an uniform and vast peninsula. The once populous and commercial coast of the Mediterranean, formerly the seat of the pow- erful empire of Carthage, now contains only the small piratical states of Barbary. A very large portion of Africa lies between the tropics, and is exposed to exces- sive heat. This is the part which produces most gold and aromatic drugs, and where lions, tigers, and elephants abound. The inhabitants are either tawny Moors, or negroes of different shades and features. The interior of Africa is no otherwise known than from the accounts of a few travellers, or the vague reports of the tribes that live near the coasts. America, or the New World, is between eight and nine thousand miles in length, and in some parts nearly 3690 miles in breadth; it enjoys all the variety of climates, and occupies a considerable part of both hemispheres, and is not much inferior in dimensions to a third part of the habitable globe. The eastern shores are washed by the Atlantic and Southern Oceans, and the western by tJie Pacific Ocean. It consists of two great continents, distinguished by the names of North and South America, These are connected by the isthmus of Darien, nearly 360 miles in length, but not more than 16 miles broad in the narrowest part. In the gulph bounded by the northern and southern continents, lie numerous islan 's, which are called the West Indies, to distinguish tliem from the countries on the eastern coasts of Asia, which are called the East Indies, North America is divided into the provinces of Nova Scotia, Canada, and New Britain, belonging to Great Britain ; the twenty-four United States, Louisiana, lately purchased by them of the French ; East and West Flori- da, California, and Mexico, or New Spain, recently be- longing to Spain. The inland country, much of which is GEOGRAPHY AND ASTRONOMY. 229 unexplored, is still occupied in many parts by the Indian tribes. The colonies of South America, still more extensive, remained, until recently in the possession of Spain and Portugal ; while these states, notwithstanding the vast revenues which they derived from these colonies, have been long sinking in the scale of Europeiin importance. South America is divided into seven great provinces : Terra Firma, Peru, Amazonia, Brazil, Paraguay, Chili, and Patagonia. Peru, the richest province of America, situated on the southern coast, is about 1400 miles long, and 400 broad. Its chief commodities are gold and silver, quicksilver, pearls, cotton, tobacco, cochineal, and drugs ; quinquina, or the Jesuit's bark, the virtue of which is well known all over Europe, and tobacco of the finest flavour, are peculiar to this country. The climate of Brazil is temperate, and the soil fertile ; its chief commodities are gold, diamonds, red wood, sugar, amber, &c. It was subject to the king of Portugal, who drew great riches from it. The foregoing is a very imperfect account of the ter- raqueous globe we inhabit. It is so large in dimensions, that Teneriffe or Mont Blanc are, compared to it, but as grains of dust upon an artificial sphere. Its diameter is 7970 miles, and its surface contains 199,557,250 square miles. Maps, Charts, ^c. — It is by longitude and latitude the situation of places is determined and described by the moderns. A true map of the world can only be deline- ated on a globe or ball. Maps, however, are projected, upon different principles, on plane surfaces. If a large space be described on one of .these, it must necessarily be represented in a distorted manner; but the distortion, however, is regular, and any small part of the map in tolerable proportion with itself, though not with the whole. The ancients in their scanty knowledge of geography, and before their invention of the manner of reckoning by the degrees of longitude and latitude, contented them- selves with mentioning the climate as the situation of a place. 20 230 TouNG man's book of knowledge. Astronomers mark the stars of every constellation on the celestial charts and globes with the letters of the Greek alphabet, denoting those that are most conspicuous by a, and calling them of the first magnitude ; the next by 13, calling them of the second magnitude; and so on, in succession, to stars of the fifth and sixth magnitude. Geographers sometimes place the compass in a vacant part of a map, to shew the bearings of the different places on it, Ihe fleur de lis always pointing towards the north; but, in maps of general geography, the top is usually the north ; the degrees of latitude are marked on the sides, and the degress of longitude, or the difference of time, along the top and bottom. If the figures along the sides increase upwards, the country delineated is in north lati- tude; if downwards, it is in south latitude : if the figures along the top and bottom increase from right to left, it is in western longitude ; if from left to right, it is in eastern longitude. The scales in maps are for measuring dis- tances. Towns and cities are represented by a church, house, castle, or other building, by a small circle ; or, if fortified, by an indented circle or oval. Roads are ex- pressed by double lines running close and parallel between towns or cities, and sometimes by single ones, the figures along them telling the distance. Rivers are represented by black lines, small near their source, and growing, stronger to the sea. Mountains are sketched on a map as on a landscape. Forests and woods appear like little bushes. Deserts are represented by small dots. Bogs or morasses, and savannahs, are made out by shades of parallel lines; and lakes are represented by a darker shade. The dotted lines and party-colours in maps serve to distinguish one country from another; and the line which represents the shore is strong and shaded, or rather lightened off into the water. In topographical maps, or delineations of small or par- tial tracts of country, there is not so much attention paid to having the north to the top ; and the same remark ap- plies to sea charts. In sea charts the land is often almost blank, while the channels, soundings, rocks, banks, sands, &c. are distinct- ly marked 4 and the shading of the coast is the reverse of what it is in maps. The meridians are often drawn in GEOGRAPHY ANP ASTRONOMY. 231 straight and parallel lines ; and the lines of latitude are also straight parallels crossing the meridians at right an- gles. This is called Mercator's projection. The points of the compass are also frequently repeated, and extended through the whole chart, to shew the magnetic points, or the variation of the compass. The direction of winds, tides, and currents, is commonly denoted by arrows. Banlcs, sands, and shallows, are represented by small dots. Rocks are represented by small crosses, or some- times by marks representing the points of rocks. Small an ohors denote anchorage ; and figures express the sound- ings in fathoms. ASTRONOMY. This science is, of all others, the most sublime, the most beautiful, and the most interesting; for there are no persons of whatever age, to whom the heavenly bodies are not objects of curiosity. The certain principles upon which it rests, are proved by the calculations of eclipses ; as the astronomer can determine not only that the lumi- naries of day and night will be darkened, but he can pronounce with certainty at what particular point of time, and to what particular extent, such obscurations will happen, and exactly how long they will continue. Some parts of astronomy are so useful to mankind, as to make the cultivation of it highly necessary : accordingly we may find traces of it among all nations. By its assist- ance, geographers are enabled to ascertain the true figure and size of the earth, and the situation and extent of countries ; chronologists can compute the measure of the year ; and navigators can determine the longitude of places, and direct their courses through the trackless and stormy ocean, with correctness and safety. This science opens to our view the solar system and fixed stars. Qfthe Solar System. The solar system which the moderns have adopted, . was taught by Pythagoras, revived by Copernicus, con- 232 YUUNG MAN S BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. firmed by Galileo, Kepler, and Descartes, and fully established by Sir Isaac Newton. The sun is placed in the centre of this system, from which it never moves; but from observations made upon it« spots, it is found to turn round its own axis, from west to east, in about twenty-five days. The planets, Called primary, revolve round the sun at unequal distances ; their names are Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, and the Georgium Sidus. The two planets Ceres and Pallas, lately discovered by Piazzi and Olbers, two foreign astronomers, may be referred to the'solar system, but their orbits have not yet been determined with precision. To this system belong other spherical bodies which move round their respective primary planets m the same manner as the primary planets move round the sun, from the west to east ; Except those of the Georgium Sidus, which appear to move in a'contrary direction. These are called secondary planets, satellites, or moons. The most conspicuous is the moon, which moves round the earth in something less than twenty-eight days: four revolve round Jupiter, seven round Saturn, and six round the Georgium Sidus. A Table of the Solar System. Mean diame- ters in Eng- lish miles. Mean distan- ces fl-om the Sun. Daily rotations round their axes. Time of revol- ving round the Sun The Sun - - - - Mercury .... Venus The Earth . - - The Moon - - - Mars ------ Jupiter Saturn - - - - - Georgium Sidus 883,246 3,224 7,687 7,911 2,180 4,189 89,170 79,042 36,112 Millions' of miles. 37 68 95 95 144 490 900 1800 D. H. M. 23 14 8 Unknown. 23 21 1 29 17 44 24 39 9 S3 10 16 Unknown. D. H. M. 83 23 16 224 16 49 365 S 48 686" "23 '30 4332 14 27 10759 1 SI 30737 18 It is important to remark the distance of the primary planets from the sun, and of the secondary planets from their primaries, and the times of their revolutions ; be- cause we are hence led to see more clearly the excellence of the Copernican system, according to which the motions of all the planets are regulated by one general law, viz. the squares of the periodical times of the plan«ts are to GEOGRAPHY AND ASTRONOMY. 233 each other as the cubes of their mean distances from the sun ; and the same law is established with respect to the secondaries in revolving round their primaries. The planets are retained in their-orbits by the united operaiion of the centripetal force, by which a body is attracted to the centre of .gravity, and the centrifigal force, by which it endeavours to persevere in a straight line. These two powers, mutually balancing each other, like action and re-action, retain the planets in their orbits, and compel them to make their respective revo- lutions. The mean distance of the moon from the earth is about thirty of the earth's diameters, or 240,000 miles. The surface of the moon is to that of the earth nearly as 1 to 13 1-3, and their respective quantities of matter nearly as 1 to 39. The sun is about a million of times bigger than the earth. The planets, both primary and secondary, are opaque bodies, and receive all their light from the sun, and make their revolutions round it. From the appearance of the bounds of light and shadow upon their surface, they are concluded to be spherical, which is confirmed by many of them being found to turn periodically on their axis. The placet Jupiter is surrounded by thin substances, called belts, in which there appear so many changes, that they are generally thought to be clouds, for some of them have appeared broken, and then have become entirely invisible. Saturn is surrounded by a thin broad ring, which appears double through a good telescope. There is reason to believe that it turns round its axis ; because, when its edge only is visible to us, it appears somewhat thicker on one side of the planet than on the other; and the thickest edge has been seen on different sides at dif- ferent times. Each of the primary planets moves round the sun in a curve line, which forms an ellipsis. The sun is placed in one of the foci. The point of the line in which the planet approaches nearest to the sun is called the peri- helion ; the point at which it is most remote, is called the aphelion. Its mean distance is equal to half the sum of its greatest and least distance from the focus in which the sun is placed. SO* 234 TouNG man's book of knowledge. Comets. Comets are supposed to be solid opaque bodies of various magnitudes, with long transparent tales resem- bling a pale flame, and issuing from the part of the comet farthest from the sun. They move round the sun in very elliptic orbits, and cross the orbits of the planets in all directions. From the curved direction of their paths, Newton concludes, that when they disappear they go much beyond the orbit of Jupiter ; and that, in their perihelion, they frequently descend within the orbits of Mars and the inferior planets. He computed the heat of the comet which appeared in 1680, when nearest the sun, to be 2000 times hotter than red hot iron, and that it must retain its heat till it comes round again, even if its period should be more than 20,000 years, and it is com- puted to be only 575. Of the Fixed Stars. No part of the universe affords such exalted ideas of the structure and magnificence of the heavens, as the consideration of the number, magnitude, nature, and dis- tance of the fixed stars. We admire, indeed, with pro- priety, the vast bulk of our own globe ; but, when we consider how much it is surpassed by most of the heavenly bodies, what a small point it degenerates into, and how little more even the vast orbit in which it revolves would appear, when seen from some of the fixed stars, we begin to conceive more just ideas of the extent of the universe, and of the infinity of creation. The fixed stars comprehend all the celestial objects, excepting the sun, the moon, and the planets, and some comets which now and then appear. The stars, on account of their apparently various mag- nitudes, have been distributed into various classes and orders. Tiose which appear largest, are called stars of the first magnitude; the next to them in lustre, stars oj the second magnitude ; and so on to the sixth, which are the smallest that are visible to the bare eye. This distri- bution having been made long before the invention of telescopes, the stars which cannot be seen without tho CE06RAPHY AND ASTRONOMY. 235 assistance of those instruments, are distioguished by the name of lelescopic stars. They are likewise distinguished, with regard to their situations, into asterisms, or constellations; which are nothing but assemblages of several neighbouring stars, considered as constituting some determinate figure, as of an animal, &c. from which it is therefore denominated. The number of constellations in the northern hemis- phere is 36 ; in the southern 32: and in the ecliptic 12. Those stars which are not included in the constellations, are called unformed stars ; those clusters of stars which are so distant as not to be distinctly seen, are, ftom their cloudy appearance, comprised under the name of nelula ; and that light-coloured irregular cirt^le or band which encompasses the heavens, and is distinguishable from the ethereal blue by its brilliancy ; that shining zone, which owes its splendour to the innumerable stars of which it is formed, and which passes through many of the constella- tions in its ample range, is called the galaxy, the via lactea, or the milky way. The idea of classing the stars under well known forms, probably originated with the Egyptian shepherds, who, during the silent watches of the night (as they slept in the open air) had no other objects to contemplate than those which the starry heavens presented ; among these, assisted by the powers of a fertile imagination, they disco- vered a distant resemblance of such things as they were most familiar with. The shepherds thus conceiving the figure of thii^ in the firmament, the poets embellished the illusion with the fictions of mythology, till the heavens were as it were, filled with these imaginary creatures, and these were increased in after-ages, and served astronomers in their accounts of the starry heavens, as the present divisions of the earth help geographers in the description of the globe. The twelve constellations which surround the scliptic, commonly called the twelve signs of the zodiac, are the following : Aries, the Ram ; Taurus, the Bull ; Gemini, the Twins ; Cancer, the Crab ; Leo, the Lion ; Virgo, the Virgin ; Libra, the Balance ; Scorpio, the Scorpion ; Sagittarius, the Archer; Capricornus, the Goat: Aguarius, 233 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. theWater-bearer; and Pisces, the Fishes; and they are noted on globes by their respective signs. The former six are called northern, and the latter southern signs ; because the former possess that half of the ecliptic which lies to thenorthward of the equinoctial; and the latter that w hich 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 probable conjecture that the figures under which they are represented are descriptive of the seasons of the year, or months, in the sun's path ; thus, the first sign aries, denotes that, about the time when the sun enters into that part of the ecliptic, the lambs begin to follow the sheep ; and 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, nofw Gemini, was originally two kids, and signified the time of the goats bringing forth then: 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 sideways 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, when 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 harvest ; which was aptly ex- pressed by one of the female reapers, with an ear of corn in her hand, viz. Virgo, the Maid. The ancients gave to the nextsign, Scorpio, two of the twelve divisions of the zodiac; autumn, which aiFords fruits in great abundance, affords the means and causes of diseases, and the suc- ceeding time is the most unhealthy of the year, expressed by thi? venomous animal, here spreading out his long claws into one sign, as threatening mischief, and in the other brandishing his tail to denote the completion of it. The fall ofthe 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 hunts- man with his arrows and his club, the weapons of des- GEOOBAPHr AND AoTROSOMY. 237 structron for the large creatures he pursued. The reason of the Wild Gfoat's being chosen to mark the southern solstice, when the sun has attained his extreme limit that way, and begins to return and mount again to the north- ward, is obvious enough ; the character of that animal b.ing, that it is mostly climbing, and ascending some mountain as it browses. There yet remains two 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 winter is a wet and uncomfortable se,\son ; this, therefore, was expressed by Aquarius, 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 jrield their siore, but the seas and rivers are open, and there you may t ike fish in abundance. With respect to the distances of the fixed stars, they are so extremely remote, that we have no distances in the pianeiary system to compare to them. The distance of the star Draconis (a star of the fifth magnitude) appears, by Dr. Bradlej'^s observations, to be at least 400,000 limes that of the sun, and the distance of the nearest fixed star not less than 40,000 diameters of the earth's annual orbit; that is, the distance from the earth, of the former at least, 33.000,030,000,000 miles, and the latter not less than 7,600,000,000,000 miles. As these distances are immensely great, it ms.y both be amusing, and help to a clearer and more familiar idea to compare them with the velocity of some moving body, by 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 sis years traversing the first space, and near a year and aquarter 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 Draconis to the earth, and 760,000 years passing from the nearest fixed star. Sound, which moves at the rate of about thirteen miles in a minute, would be 5,600,000 years traversing the former distance, and 1,138,000 in passing through the 238 youNG man's book op knowledge. latter. The celebrated Huygens pursued speciSlalions 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 since the creation. Though the number of the stars appears to be immense- ly great, yet have astronomers long since ascertained the number of such as are visible to the eye, which are much fewer than at first sight be imagined. Of the 3000 con- tained 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 appearance of innumerable more, that are frequent in clear winter nights, arising from our sight being deceived by their twinkling, and from our viewing them confusedly, and not reducing them to any order. — But a good telescope directed indifferently lo almost any point of the heavens, discovers multitudes that are lost lo 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. Thesame 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 500 in another part of him, within the compass of one or two degrees of space, and more than forty in the nebulous star Proesepe, and the recent discoveries of Dr. Herschel have proved the fixed stars to be immense, their regions un- bounded, and perhaps infinite ! As the stars, contrary to the moon and planets, shine like our sun, by their own native light, astronomers sup- pose that each of thera is a sun with its system of inhabit- ed worlds revolving round it. Under this idea or persua- sion, of how innumerable a family do we seem to make a part ! The immensity of the universe becomes peopled %yith fellow beings, and we feel an interest at what ap- pears to be going on at distances so vast, that what we see, as in time present, we have reason to believe (swift, in- conceivably swift, as is the progress of light, darting from the spheres) must have happened many ages ago. Under the idea of the universe being replenished with human beings, how magnificent, how awful, are the spectacles that present themselves to the observer of the heavens ! OEOGRAFHir AND ASTRONOMY. 239 The creatures of a day, of a few fleeting moments, seem to obtain a glimpse of a now creation, a glimpse of the end of time in the passing awaj' of a system. What an amazing conception, if human imagination can conceive it, does this give of the works of the Creator! — Thousands of thousands of suns, multiplied without end, and ranged all around us, at immense distances from each other, attended by ten thousand times ten thousand worlds, all hung loose, as it were, in boundless space, up- held by nothing, confined by nothing — yet preserved in their rapid course, calm, regular, and harmonious, inva- riably keeping the paths assigned them by the sovereign Artificer. Let these grand objects ! these amazing systems ! their numbers, motions, magnitudes, which are much too vast and too sublime for the capacity of the human mind to form an adequate conception of, raise and kindle in the heart love, praise, and adoration to the supreme and great Creator. " I will consider thy heavens, even the works of thy fingers, the moon and the stare which thou hast ordained, what is man that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man that thou visitest him ? O Lord, our governor, how excellent is thy name in all the world!" CHAP. IX HISTORY AND CHRONOLOGY. History, in the general sense of the word, signifies a Irue relation of facts and events ; or, considered in a moral point of view, it is that lively philosophy, which,' laying aside the formality of rules, supplies the place of experience, and teaches us to act with propriety and honour according to the examples of others. The province of history is so extensive, that it is connected with every branch of knowledge ; and so various and abundant are its stores, that all arts, sciences, and professions, are in- 840 voONG man's book of knowledge. debted to it for many of the materials and principles upon ■which they depend. It opens the widest prospect to the eyes oi mankind in the spacious fields of literature, and is one of the most pleasing and important objects of stiwiy to which the rnind can be directed. If the limited acquaintance we have in the world, the objects that surround us within so small an extent, and some minute transactions of present times, furnish matter of inquiry and amusement, and are sufficient to excite our curiosity, how much greater delight may we reasonably propose to ourselves in extending the bounds of this knowledge, by taking a view of the pursuits, employments, and inclinations of men of all ages and conditions; by travelling into distant nations, traversing the vast regions of the universe, and carrying our researches back through the long series of ages which have succeeded one another since the creation of the world? These great advantages may be attained by the study of history. It laj's open to us all countries, times, and transactions, and makes us in a manner an eye witness to the astonishing changes and revolutions that have from time to time happened in the world. By perusing the records of past ages, we carry ourselves back to the first original of things, and enter upon a new kind of existence. We see the world rising out of nothing, behold how it was governed in its infancy, how overflowed and destroyed in a deluge of water, and again re-peopled. We trace the first institution and esta- blishment of kingdoms and commonwealths, observe how they rose, flourished, and decayed, and enter into a kind of intimacy and correspondence with the several great men who contributed to these mighty revolutions. And here it is chiefly that, by taking a view of the actions and behaviour of those that have gone before us, and examining into their achievements, virtues, and faults, the mind comes to be furnished with prudent maxims • -and reflections, and is enabled to form wise and unerring rules for the conduct of life, both in a private and public capacity. It is history, then, that best teaches what is honourable and becoming in all the various stations of life, and how a man may acquit himself with dignity, if fortune smiles upon him, and recommends him to places of credit and BISTORT AND CHRONOLOGY. 241 power, so it will g^ve thetraest insight into the instability of human things, and thereby prepare urfor those revo- lutions and changes which in the course of life may happen. For, when we look back into the annals of past ages, we see not only particular men and families exp^ence these alterations, but even mighty kingdoms and potent empires have undergone the same fate.^ Greece and Rome, heretofore famous for their invincibfe armies, renowned commanders, and the extent of their dominions, are now brought to a level with other nations, yea sunk to the most abject state of slavery. The arts and sciences, that flourished in so eminent a degree among them, and spread their reputation so far, are in a great measure dispersed in other countries, and have con- tributed to raise them out of the obscurity in which they ■were long involved. And, if great and powerful states are not exempt from these changes, well may we expect them in the fortunes of particular men. And how useful must that study be, which not only teaches us to acquit ourselves well upon any sudden elevation or success, but also arms us eigainst the adverse accidents of life, so that no reverse of fortune shall be able to break the harmony of our minds? For here we meet with many examples of men, who, after supporting public stations with honour, have shone out no less illustrious in private life ; others, again, sinking suddenly from riches to poverty, have by their behaviour added a dignity to their low and depressed conditioo. These are the models which history lays be- fore you ; and by following these you will make j^ur^ selves great, wise, and esteemed, in every sphere of life, if called to public employments, you will know how to fill them with lustre: and, being well £|pprised of the instability of human afiairs, wiU not si^r any attach- ments to grow upon you, that by a reverse of fortune might destroy the balance within. A mind rightly con- stituted is not intoxicated with prosperity; but, still looking forward, and foreseeing the possibility of a change, disposes itself to submit without murmuring or regret. By history, also, without hazard to ourselves,. we are made wise by the experience of others. We see the pas- sions ot mankind, their interfering iater^ts, and idl the 21 243 tavtio HAiv's flooK at KKott^LEOoe. artifices by which they impose on each other. We are taught to be upon our guard against flattery, to shun the contagion of vice, to disclaim all commerce with the dis- solute and abandoned, and associate only with the wise and good. History, considered with respect to the nature of He subjects, may be divided into general and particular ; and with respect to time, into ancient and modern. An' cient history commences with the creation of the worlds and is by Bossuet, the learned author of an universal history, extended to the reign of Charlemagne, Emperor of Germany and France, in the year of our Lord 800. — Modern history beginning with that period reaches down to the present time. General history relates to nations and public affairs, and may be subdivided into aacred, ecclesiastical, axiiihirofane. But as history is a recital of past events and occur- rences that have been carried on in different countries, and in a series of ages, the one succeeding the other, in order to reap the fruits of it in their full extent and matu- rity, it will be necessary to have some previous knowledge of the succession of times, and of the several nations and kingdoms where these transactions took place. For it so happens, that the revolutions of one age often give rise to, and are strictly connected ■With those of another. And therefore we can form but very confused notions of the rise and fall of empires, and the establishment of states, without some such general comprehension of the wnole current of time as may enable us to trace out dis- tinctly, the dependence of events, and distribute them into those periods and divisions that shall lay the whole chain of past transactions in a just and orderly manner before OS. This is that part of knowledge which the learned distinguish by the name of chronology; importing a dis- course concerning time. We shall not enter into the nice speculations of philo- sophers in the definitions they have endeavoured to give us of time, as tending rather to perplex than illustrate the matter. Let it suffice to observe, that the idea of it seems to arise from the reflection of our own minds, when, in turning our thoughts upon the general course of things, we consider some as present, some as past, and BtSTORV 1.MD CSRONOLOGT. 243 some as to come. For here consideration is had of va- rious periods, not co'cxistent, but following one another in succession ; and the interval between any two of these periods is what we properly call a space of time. The general idea thus explained, it will be easy to trace its different shapes and modifications. For in taking ac- count of things past, they appear to the mind either as existing together, or as distant from one another by various intervals. And when these intervals come to be compared, some of them appear longer than others, and these longer being considered as double or triple the shorter, hence we get the notion of measuring one portion of lime by another, than which nothing can tend more to render our ideeis of it clear and distinct. For when any extent of time is too large for the mind to take in ai once, by thus considering it as a composition of some fesser space, and equal to a certain repetition of it, the idea is ascertained, and passes in a distinct review of all its parts before us. But, then, when we come to apply these measures to time, either as running on in continual succession, or as already past and gone, we find ourselves lost in an immeasurable depth, and meet with nothing to bound us either way. This makes it necessary to fix upon some determinate point, or points, in this infinite duration, from which, as from a beginning, the various measures of time, as days, months, years, &c. may be numbered either backwards or forwards. And accord- ingly several roots or terms of this kind have been devised by different nations, as they happened to think one thing or another more worthy of remembrance, and therefore fit to give a date to other transactions. — They are called epochas, or aras, as being a kind of resting place for the mind, from which to look about it, and begin its compu- tations. Now, from what hasheen said, it will readily be per- ceived, that the whole science of chronology may be fitly divided into two parts or branches ; one comprehending the knowledge of the various measures and periods by which time is computed ; and the other describing the several aeras and epochas, from which, according to difie- rent nations, events are dated. For, by knowing these iwo, we are masters of the whole current of time, as heiag 244 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. not only able to calculate the length of any interval or distance, but also, by comparing the computation of various ages and kingdoms, to fit them one to another, and, by adjusting the whole to some standard period, regulate the entire succession of past transactions. As the idea of time in general is acquired by consider- ing the parts of duration as existing in succession, and distant from one another by several intervals ; so the idea of any particular time, or length of duration, as a day, a month, a year, &c. is obtained by observing certain appearances uniformly returning at regular and seemingly equidistant periods. For thus we get the notion of equal spaces, and, by variously multiplying and combining these, can form to ourselves different measures of time, of different lengths, according to the exigency of things. Now the motions of the sun, and other heavenly bodies, by reason of their constancy and equability, easily invited men to make them the standard by which to regulate these several dimensions. And because the apparent diurnal revolution of the sun was not only constant and equable, but frequent and of a shorter circuit; hence it naturally became the first measure of time, under the denomination of a day. A day, therefore, may be defined to be a division of time, drawn from the appearance and disappearance of the sun ; and is of two kinds, artificial and natural. The artificial day, which seems to be that primarily meant by the word day, is the time of light, or of the sun's stay above the horizon, determined by his rising and setting : In opposition to which, the time of darkness, or of the sun's continuance below the horizon, from set- ting to rising again, is called night. The natural, or as it is also called, the civil day, is that space of time wherein the sun completes his circuit round the earth; or, to speak properly and astronomically, the time of an entire revolution of the equator. Different nations have acted with great diversity of choice, in fixing the beginning of their days ; some computing from the rising, others from the setting of the sun, and others again from his passing the upper or lower meridian. Hence the ancient Babylonians, Persians, Syrians, and most other eastern nations, with the present inhabitants of the Balear- niSTORT AND CnRONOLOGT. 245 ick Islands, the Greeks, &o. begin their day with the sun's rising. The ancient Athenian and Jews, with the Austrians, Bohemians, Marcomanni, Silesians, modern Italians, and Chinese, reckon from the sun's setting. The ancient Umbri and Arabians, with the modern astrono- mers, from noon. And the Egyptians and Romans, with ihemodern English, French, Dutch, Gennans, Spaniards, and Portuguese, from midnight. And as different people thus varied as to the time of beginning the day, so were their different distributions and divisions of it into parts ; some distinguishing the time of the artificial day into twelve equal portions, which therefore in different seasons of the year must be of different lengths. But the distinc- tion that now most generally prevails, is that of the whole space of day and night into twenty-four hours, which, being so well known will need no farther illustration. All the periods and distinctions of time we meet with in chronology are no other than various combinations of this first measure, accommodated to the particular wants of mankind, the different appearances of the heavens, and the several intervals of past transactions. Men were, no doubt, in the beginning, contented with the simple revo- lution of a day, and for some little time it would well enough serve all the purposes expected from it. But as the world advanced in age, and the intervals between the different transactions became large and extended, the number of days would multiply so fast, as soon to disco- ver the necessity of instituting more comprehensive measures of time, for the easy and convenient compu- tation of these longer spaces. This was done by com- bining days into various systems and classes of different lengths, according to the exigency of things, which gave rise to the institution of months, years, olympiads, &c. Different nations have adopted different modes of com- puting time. The most ancient we read of is that of Moses. In his description of the deluge he calculates by months, consisting each of thirty days, and by years 360 days each. According to Herodotus, the Egyptian^ reckoned in the same manner, and from them probably Moses adopted his method, as he was versed in all their learning. The Gh'eeks calculated by Olympiads. An Olympiad 246 YOUNG man's book or k(iowledgb. is a space of four years, after the expiration of which, that is in the fifth year, games in honour of Jupiter Olympius was celebrated with great pomp and festivity by the Greeks near Olympia, a city in Peloponnesus. They were fully established in the 3228th year of the world, 776 before Christ. This mode of compulation appears to have ceased after the 364th, which ended A.D. 440, as we have no further mention of them in history. The usual mode of Romish computation from the years which had elapsed from the building of the city, anno urbis conditce, expressed briefly by the letters A.U.C. This event took place in the 3250th year of the world, and the 750th year before Christ. The ordinary mode of reckoning the years of the world is to take 4004 before Christ for the sera of the creation, which is adopted from the Hebrew text of the scriptures. Christians compute from the most memorable of all seras, the birth of our Saviour, which happened in the ■27th year of the reign of Augustus, and in the year of Rome 749. The Turks compute from the Hegira, or flight of Mahomet from Mecca ; this happened in the 622d year of our Lord, when Heraclius was emperor of the East. The Julian, or old stile, is so called from Ju< lius Caesar, who regulated the Roman calendar. He added a day immediately after the twenty-fourth of Fe- bruary, called by the Romans the sixth of the calends of March ; as it was thus reckoned twice, the year in which it was introduced was called Bissextile, or what we call Leap Year. This calentlar was still more reformed by order of Pope Gregory XHI. in 1532, from whence arose the new stile, which is now observed in every European country, except Russia. The Julian year was too long by nearly eleven minutes, which excess amounts to three days in 400 years : the Pope, therefore, with the advice of able astronomers, ordained that a day in every three centuries out of four should be omitted ; so that every century, which would otherwise be a bissextile year, is made to be only a common year, excepting only such centuries as are exactly divisible by four, which happens once in four centuries. This reformation of the calendar commenced in the countries under the papal influence on the 4th of HISTORY AN-D CH&ONOLOer. 247 October, 1582 when ten days were omitted at once, which bad been overrun since the Council of Nice, in 325, by the overplus of eleven minutes each year. In England, this new style commenced only in 1752, when eleven days were omitted at once, the 3d of September being reckoned the 14th in that year ; as the surplus minutes had then amounted to eleven days- The calendar thus reformed, which, by an act of parliament in the 24th of Gicorge II., was ordered to be observed, comes very nearly to -the accuracy of nature, for it is ordered by that act, that Easter Sunday, on which the rest of the feasts de- pend, is always the first Sunday after the fuD moon, which happens upon, or next after the 2lst of March : and if the full moon happens on a Sunday, Easterdayis the Sunday after. After these deviations on chronology, we shall, conso- nant to our design, hasten to lay before the reader a short view of ancient history, from the creation of the world to the birth of Christ, dividing that whole interval into ten Tpsatts. The first takes in the duration of the old world, or from the creation to the deluge, which includes one thousand six hundred and fifty-six years. The second reaches from the deluge to the vocation of Abraham, and takes in four hundred and twenty-six years. The third, from the vocation of Abraham to the departure of the children of Israel out of Egypt, comprehends four hun- dred and thirty years. The fourth, from the departure out of Egypt to the destruction of Troy, includes three hundred and eight years. The fifth, from the destruc- tion of Troy to the laying the foundation of the temple under Solomon, takes in an hundred and seventy-two years. The sixth, from the foundation of the temple to the building of Rome, includes two hundred and fifty- eight years. The seventh, from the building of Rome to Cyrus, comprehends two hundfed and eight years. The eighth, from Cyrus to the overthrow of the Persian Em- pire by Alexander the Great, contains two hundred and six years. The ninth, from the fall of the Persian Em- pire to the defeat of Perseus, when Rome became the mistress of the world, takes in an hundred and sixty-two years. The tenth, and last, from the destruction of the kingdom of Macedon under Perseus, to the beginning of 248 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. the Christian sera, includes about an hundred and sixty- eight years. The first epocha opens with a display of Almighty power. God creates the world out of nothing, and pours upon it a profusion of ornamenia, that it may be as agreeable habitation for man, who stands in the first rank of beings here below. This great event is placed by Archbishop Usher, whose chuonology we phQose lo follow, in the 710th year of the Juliaa period, aad the 4004th before Christ. Here Moses, the great lawgiver of the Jews, begins his history, and presents us lyith the original pair in a state of innocence and perfection, adorned with the image of their Maker, and exercising dominion over the creatures. This is the period so ijnuch celebrated by the poets under the name of the golden age. But, alas I it was of short continuance. Eve seduced, and Adam joining in offence, experience a fatal reverse of fortune, and are forced to quit the deligbtfu) abode of Paradise. The earth begins to be peopled, and the cofr ^^WotIil" ruptio"^ of human nature discovers itself.-^ ,^^..,^,^^ Abel is murdered by his brother Cain; but J Of, punishment follows close upon the offence. — We see the criminal suffering under the re- proaches of his own conscience, and retiring from the commerce of men, whose hatred he had justly incurred. By him the first city is built, and among his posterity we meet with the first beginning of arts. Here we see, at the same time, the tyranny of the human passions, an4 the prodigious malignity of the heart of man. 987 The posterity of Seth, withstand the general torrent, and continue faithful to God. Enoch is miraculously taken up into heaven, as a reward for his upright walking with his Maker. The posterity of Seth intetmariying with the descenda,nts of Cain ; or, in the language of scripture, the sons of God going in unto the daughters of men, an universal corruption ensued. God, no longer able to bear with the wickedness of men, re- solves upori their destruction, and makes known 1536 his purpose by the mouth of his servant Noah ; but they continuing hardened in their iniquities the earth is covered with a deluge erf water, and alf man- HISTORY AND CHRONOLOGY. 249 kind cut off, Noah and his family excepted. This hap- pened in the 1656th year of the world, and the 2366th of the Julian period. It is worth observ- 1656 ing, that, as the deluge was universal, so the tradition of it has obtained belief among all nations.— Nothing is more celebrated in the writings of the poets, nor can any event of equal antiquity boast of so many concurring testimonies to support it. Not that sacred history derives any additional strength from such foreign recommendations ; but the mind is pleased to see truths, in which it takes a real interest, confirmed by the annals of nations who had not any such motives to engage their belief of them. « Second epocha. — The Deluge. To the times following after the deluge, we must refer to some considerable changes in the ordinary course of nature. So universal a shock doubtless caused great alterations in the atmosphere, which now took a form not so friendly to the frame and texture of the human body. Hence the abridgement of the life 1756 of man, and that formidable train of diseases which have ever since made such havoc in the world. The memory of the three sons of Noah, the first founders of nations, has, we find, been preserved among the several people descended from them. Japhet, who peopled the greatest part of the west, continued long famous under the celebrated name of Japetus. Ham was revered as a God by the Egyptians under the title of Jupiter Hammon. And the memory of Shem has ever been held in honour among the Hebrews, his descendants. The first considerable dispersion of mankind was occasioned 1757 by the confusion of languages, sent among them by God, upon their engaging in a vain attempt of build- ing a tower, whose top might reach the heaven. As the earth, after the deluge, was over-run with woods, which became the haunts of wild beasts, the great heroism of those times consisted in clearing the ground, and extir- pating these savage monsters, that held mankind under continual alarms, and hindered them from enlarging 230 lociNQ man's book of knowledge. their habitations. Nimrod, acquiring great reputation in this way, is thence called by Moses a mighty hunter before the Lord. As his enterprises of this kind soon made him considerable, and naturally tended to rouse ambition in the heart of man, we find him aiming at do- minion over his fellow-creatures, and establishing his authority upon conquest. Such was the first beginning of kingdoms. Nimrod founded his Babylon, 1771 where the vaiu attempt to build the famous tower had been made. Much about the same time the foundations of Nineveh were laid, and several other ancient kingdoms established. They were but of small extent in their first beginning, as is easy to suppose. In Egypt alone we meet with four dynasties or principali- ties ; Thebes, Thin, Memphis, and Tanis, To this age, also, we may refer the origin of the Egyptian laws and policj'. Already they began to distinguish themselves by their astronomical knowledge, which was also culti- vated with no less ardour among the Chaldeans. You will readily suppose, that if the speculative sciences began by this time to be cultivated, those practical arts that tend to th^ ease and accommodation of human life would not lie neglected. Noah had doubtless preserved all the inventions of the old world ; but, as the face of nature was considerably altered by the deluge, new contrivances must be adapted to their present circumstances. Hence agriculture, architecture, and the art of polishing roan- kind, are found to have flourished very early in the wes- tern parts of the world, where Noah and his descendants first settled. In proportion as we remove from them, we meet with nothing but barbarity and a savage wilderness. Even Greece itself, which led the way in arts and sci- ences to the other European nations, was wholly unac- quainted with the most necessary concerns of human life, till strangers arriving from the Eastern countries, brought along with them the knowledge of those more improved nations. But, though arts and sciences thus flourished in the east, the knowledge of the true God seems to have decayed very early. Tradition introduced many absurd notions into religion, and made way for those gross ideas of the Deity that soon overspread the world. The number of false divinities multiplied ex- UISTORV AND CUROiNOLUiiV. 261 ceedinglj ; and this was what gave occasion to the vo- cation of Abraham. T%iTdepoe\a. — 7%e Vocation of Abraham. This happened about four hundred and twenty-six years after the deluge, and iu the 2793d'year of the Julian period. For then it was that the several nations of the earth, walking after their own ways, and forget- ting him that made them ; God, to hinder in some 2083 measure the progress of this universal depravation, resolved to separate for himself a chosen people. Abraha m was called to be the father of this distinguished race. God appeared to bim in the land of Canaan, where he purposed to establish his worship, and the posterity of that eminent patriarch,' whom he promised to multiply as the stars of heaven, and the sand upon 2092 the sea shore. It is remarkable of this father of the chosen nation, that though abounding in wealth, and possessed of a power which had proved an over-match for that of several kings united, he yet adhered to the man- ners of ancient times, and, contented with the simplicity of a pastoral life, discovered his magnificence no otherwise than by the most unbounded and extensive hos- pitality. It was in his time that Inachus, the most 2148 ancient of all the kings mentioned in the history of Greece, founded the kingdom of Argos. After Abraham, we read of Isaac, his son, and Jacob his grandson," who no less distinguished themselves by a simplicity of manners and steady faith in God. Nor did they miss of the reward due to their piety. The same promises were renewed to them, and they equally experienced the favor and protection of heaven. Isaac blessed Jacob, to the prejudice of his elder brother Esau, and, though deceived in appearance, only fulfilled the council 2245 of God. Esau is also mentioned in scripture by the name of Edom, and was the father of the Idomeans, of no small note in history- To Jacob were born the twelve patriarchs, fathers of the twelve tribes of Israel. Among them Joseph holds a distinguished place. The train of accidents by which he became first minister to 252 TOUNO man's book of KN0^|.EPGE. the king of Egypt, plainly speaks the immediate interpo- sition of Providence, which was then preparing for the accomplishment of the promises made to Abraham. For to this was owing the settlement of Jacob's family in that part of Egypt of which Tanis was the capital, and where the kings took all the name of Pharaoh. Jacob, a 2315 little before his death, calling his children together, made that celebrated prophetic declaration of the future state of their posterity, in which he particularly discovered to Judah the time of the Messiah, and that he was to issue from his loins. The family of this patriarch became in a short time a great people, insomuch that the jealousy of the Egyptians being roused by so 2433 amazing an increa&e, they began to lay them under heavy oppressions. At length God sends Moses into the world, delivers him from the waters of the Nile, and makes him fall into the hands of Pharaoh's daughter, who educates him as her own son, and instructs him in all the learning of the Egyptians. About this time the people of Egypt sent out colonies into several 2448 parts of Greece. That of Cecrops founded twelve cities, or rather villages, in Attica, of which was composed the kingdom of Athens, where the Egyptian laws and religion were introduced by the founder. Not long after happened that famous flood in Thessaly, under Deucalion, which the Greek poets have confounded with the universal deluge. Hellen, a son of this Deucalion; reigned afterwards in Thessaly, and gave his name to Greece. Much about the same time, Cadmus, the son of Agenor, came with a colony of Phoenicians into BcBOtia, and founded the ancient city of Thebes. Moses, in the mean time, advanced in years, and, being driven from the court of Pharaoh, because he opposed the persecution of his brethern, fled into Arabia, where he fed the flocks of his father-in-law, Jethro, forty years. It was here that he saw the vision of the burning bush, and heard 2613 the voice of God calling to him to go to deliver his brethren from the slavery of Egypt. He obeyed the divine admonition, and wrought all those wonders in the court of Pharaoh, of which we have so full an account in holy writ. — And this brings us to the fourth period of our histoiy. HISTORY AND cnEONOLOGY. 253 Ihurth ephocha. — T%e Departnre out of Egypt. In the 859th year after the deluge, the 430th from the vocation of Abraham, and the 3223d of the Julian period, Moses led the children of Israel out of Egypt, and receiv- ed the law from Grod himself upon Mount Sinai. In his progress through the wilderness to the Land of Canaan, he instituted, by God's appointment and 2513 direction, the whole tabernacle service. We find him also establishing a form of civil government among the tribes, in the framing of which he was assisted by the counsel of his father-in-law Jethro. During these trans- actions in the wilderness, the Egyptians continued send- ing out colonies into divers nations, particularly Greece, where Danaus found means to get posses- 2530 sion of the throne of Argos, driving out the ancient kings descended of Inachus. Upon the death of 2553 Moses, Joshua succeeded, who began and nearly completed the conquest of Canaan. After him we meet with a succession of Judges. Unhappily the Israelites, after the death of the elders that knew Joshua, forgot the God of their fathers, and were seduced into the idolatry of the bordering nations. This drew down heavy chas- tisements from above, and they were sold into the hands of cruel oppressors. But when, in their distress, they called upon God, he failed not, from time to time, to raise up a deliverer. Thus Othniel put an end 2599 to the tyranny of Cushan, king of Mesopotamia, and 80 years after Ehud delivered them from the 26/9 oppression of Eglon, king of Moah. Much about this time Pfelops, the Phrygian, the son of Tantalup, reigned in Pelopennesus, and gave his name to that famous Peninsula. Bel or Belus, king of the Chaldepns, received from his people divine honouis. The Jews, ei^- slaved or victorious, according as they honoured or forsook their God, experience many vicissitudes of fortune, as may be seen in the histories of Deborah and Barak, of Gideon, Abimelech, Jephthah, &c. This age is con- liderable for many great revolutions among the heathen nations. For, according to the computation of He- rodotus, who seems the most exact and worthy of 2737 credit, we are here to fix the foundation of the 21 254 YOUNG MiLN's BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. Assyrian empire, under Ninus the son of Belus, 520 years before the building of Rome, and in the time of Deborah the prophetess. He established the seat of it at Nineveh, that ancient city, already famous over all the east, but now greatly beautified and enlarged by him. They who allow 1300 years to the first Assyrian empire, run up nearly to the times of Nimrod, founding their supposition upon theantiquity of the city. But Herodotus, who gives it only 520 years, speaks of its duration from Ninus, under whom the Assyrians extended their conquests over all the Upper Asia. — Under this conqueror we are to place the founding, or rather rebuilding, of the ancient city of Tyre, which afterwards became so famous by its naviga- tion and colonies. — Here too, or very soon after, probably in the time of Abimelech, come in the famous exploits of Hercules, the son of Amphytrion, and of Thesus, king of Athens. This last united the twelve districts of Attica into one large city, and gave a better form to the Athe- nian government. In the reign of Semiramis, so famous for her conquests and magnificient works, and while Jephthah judged Israel, Troy, which had been already once taken by the Greeks in the time of Laomedan, was a second time taken and reduced to ashes by the same Greeks, in that of Priam, the son of Leomedan, after a siege of ten years. Fifth epocha. — The taking of Troy. This epocha of the destruction of Troy, which happen- ed about 308 years after the departure out of Egypt, and in the 3530th year of the Julian period, is considerable, not only on account of the greatness of the event, 2920 celebrated by so many famous poets both Greek and Latin, but also because it furnishes a proper date in taking account of the fabulous and heroic times. These ages of fiction and romance, where the poets place their heroes the offspring of the Gods, are not very remote from the sera we are speaking of. For, in the time of L lomedan, the father of Priam, appeared all the worthies concerned in the expedition of the Golden Fleece, Jason, Hercules, Orpheus, Castor, Pollux, &c. and even in the UlSTORT AMD CHEONOLOGY. 255 age of I*riam himself we see Achilles, Agamemnon, Menelaus, Hector, Ulysses, Diomedes, Sarpedon the son of Jupiter, .^kieas the son of Venus, whom the Romans acknowledged for their father and founder, with many others, the boast of nations, and the pride of the most renowned families. Round this epocha, therefore, we may gather what is most illustrious and great in the heroic times. But the transactions of holy writ, during this period, are yet more astonishing. The prodigious strength of Samson and his amazing exploits, the adrni* nistration of Eli, Samuel the chosen prophet of God, Saul, the first king of Israel, his victories, presumption, and unhappy fall, are events that may well raise our wonder and admiration. Ahout this time Codrus, king of Athens, devoted himself to death for the safety of his country. His sons, Medon and Nileus, disputed about the succession ; whereupon the Athenians abolished the regal power, and created perpetual governors, or magis- trates for life, but answerable for their conduct, who were distinguished by the name of Archons. Medon, the son of Codrus, was the first who exercised that office, and it continued a long time in his family. To this age we must also refer the settlement of several Athenian colonies in that part of Asia Minor, called lona. The iSolian colonies settled there much about the same time, and all Asia Minor was covered with Greek cities. In the kingdom of Israel, Saul was succeeded by 2949 David, who at first was acknowledged as king by the house of Judah only ; but, upon the death of Ish- bosheth, all the tribes owned his authority. He proved a valiant and fortunate prince, greatly enlarged his domi- nions, and advanced the Israelites to a degree of wealth and power far exceeding any thing they had known before. But, what is still more, he was the distinguished favourite of heaven, and is stiled, in scripture, a man according to God's own heart. To this pious warrior succeeded Solomon, famed for his wisdom, justice, and pacific virtues ; whose hands, unpolluted with blood, were declared worthy to raise a temple to the Most High, 256 YouNa man's book of knowledge. Sixth Epocha. — The Temple. It was in the 3702d year of the Julian period, and 480th after the departure out of Egypt, and, to connect sacred history with profane, 72 years after the taking of Troy, and 264 before the building of Rome, that Solo- 2992 mon laid the foundation of the temple. The other particulars of his reign are fully recorded in holy writ, where he appears at once an instance of all that is great and little in human nature. Under 3029 his son Rehoboam Israel was parted into two kingdoms ; one called, by way of distinction, the kingdom of Israel, and consisting of the ten tribes who associated under Jeroboam; the other, known by the name of the kingdom of Judah, composed of such as adhered to the house of David. The kings of Egypt seem at this time to be very powerful ; and many are of opinion, that the Shisak of scripture, whom God made use of to punish the impieties of R.ehoboam, is the same with that famous conqueror so renowned in pro- 3033 fane history under the name of Seostris, In the reign of Abiah, the son of Rehoboam, we see the piety of that prince rewarded with a memorable victory over the revolted tribes. In the time of Asa, his son and successor, Omri king of Israel, built Samaria, 3080 which thenceforth became the capital of that kingdom. Next follows the pious reign of Je- hosaphat in Judah, ' and the idolatry and impieties of Ahab and Jezebel in Israel, with the signal vengeance of heaven for the blood of Naboth. — About this time we are to place the foundation of Carthage by Dido, who trans- ported a colony of Tyrians into Africa, chose a place for her new city conveniently situated for traffic. The mixture of Tyrians and Africans contributed to making it both a warlike and a trading city, as will appear in the sequel. Judah and Israel were in the mean time a scene of amazing revolutions and wonders. Jehoram, by mar- rying the daughter of Ahab, was seduced into the idolatry of that wicked family, and drew down upon himself the vengeance of heaven, Jehu takes possession of tha HISTORY AND CHRONOLOGY. 257 throne of Israel and destroys the whole posterity of Ahab. Jchoram, king of Judah, and Ahaziah, 3120 bis son, with the greatest part of the royal family, are all slain about the same time, as allies and friends of the house of Ahab. Athaliah, upon hearing this news, resolves utterly to extinguish the house of David ; and, putting to death all that remained of that family, even to her own children, usurps the crown of Judah. But Joash, preserved by the care of Jehoshebah, his aunt, and brought up privately in the temple of Jehoidah the high priest, after six years put an end to the usurpation and life of Athaliah. During all this time, Elijah and Elisha were working those wonders and miracles in Israel, which have made their names so famous in holy writ. Let us now look abroad a little into profane history, which begins to furnish more ample materials, and en- tertain us with the gradual rise of those Grecian com- monwealths that made so great a figure in ancient times : for during the period we are speaking of, according to the most received opinion, flourished Lycurgus, the fa- mous Spartan lawgiver. The bounds we have prescribed ourselves in this discourse, will not allow of our laying before the reader a scheme of those admirable institutions which rendered Lacedeemon the most powerful and illus- trious city of Greece. They may be read at large in the histories of those times. We shsill only observe, that as it was the chief aim of this lawgiver to banish luxury and avarice, and introduce a warlike spirit among the people, nothing could be more happily contrived for this purpose, than his equal distribution of the lands of the common- wealth, his prohibition of all gold and silver coin, and that laljorious temperate kind of life, habituated to the exercises of war, in which every citizen was trained up from his infancy. Jn a word, it is commendation enough to say, that while Sparta adhered to the esta- blishments of Lycurgus, she was invincible in herself, and respected by all the world. Some time before Ly« curgus, flourished Homer and Hesiod, the two renowned Grecian poets. We see, in their works, the amiable simplicity of those ancient times ; and, though history has left us very much in the dark as to the early ages they describe, yet it is abundantly plain from their wri- 21* 268 YouNo mam's book of knowledgs. tings, that the Greeks were by this time a powerful people, and had made considerable advances in all the different branches of human learning. In Judah, Joash, during the life of Jehoiada, ruled the people with wisdom and justice; but after the death of that great man, he became a very tyrant, insomuch that he 3164 ordered Zechariah the high priest, the son of his benefactor, to be stoned to death. But heaven did not long defer vengeance for this act of perfidy and ingratitude. The year following, being beaten by the Syrians, he fell into contempt, and was slain by his own servants. Amaziah, his son, succeeded, him in the throne. Meanwhile the kingdom of Israel, wtich had been greatly weakened under the successors of Jehu, by its almost continual wars with the kings of Damascus, began to recover and flourish by the wise and vigorous administration of Jeroboam the Second, who exceeded in' 5j_g piety and valour all that had gone before him. Nor did Uzziah, or Azariah, the son of Amaziah, 3194 acquire less glory in Judah. In the 34th year of „„„_ his reign, the famous computation by the Olym- piads, of which we have already spoken in our chronology. It is celebrated in history, not only as being the great epocha of the Greeks, but also because here, according to Varro, the fabulous times end. They are so named on account of the many fables which the poets have interwoven with the transactions they describe, insomuch that it is almost impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood. Varro divided the whole series of time into three pe- riods. The first extended from the creation of the world to the deluge, and is by him called the unknown age, their being nothing in profane historians relating to that time which has any appearance of truth. The second period reached from the deluge to the first Olympiad, and this is what he stiled the fabulous, for the reasons men- tioned above. The third and last, beginning with the first Olympiad, was carried down to the age in which that author wrote, and may by us be extended to the present times. He calls it the historical period, because hence- forward the transactions of mankind are be^nded down to us by faithful and authentic relations ; so that the Olym- HISTORY AND CHRONOLOaY. 259 piads, while they constitute the great epocha of th? Greeks, are at the same lime to be considered as the asra of true history. However, this holds only in respect of the transactions of the heathen world, inasmuch as holy writ furnishes a true and authentic relation of the affairs of the chosen people, from the times of Abraham the father and founder of the Jewish nation ; and has even traced things back, in a general summary, to the first formation of the universe. By this means we have been enabled to give the reader a just account of the progress of human affairs ; and, de- ducing history flora its source, have preserved the chain of ages unbroken, and disposed of the scattered fragments of profane history, according to the true places they ought to possess in the general course of time. Sacred history is very soon going to leave us ; but we may esteem it a happiness, that, having conducted us with certainty thus far, we are arrived at a period where the relations of other writers may be depended on. Thus the thread of history is continued, we see ages succeeding one another in a connected series, we can pursue the affairs of man- kind in a just and orderly progression, from their first original to the times in which we live. But to return whence we digressed. Azariah was succeeded in the kingdom of Judah by his son Jotham, who proved a wise and pious prince. Israel, meanwhile, was torn with in- testine divisions. Shallum had slain Zachariah, the feon of Jeroboam, and usurped the crown ; which, inspiring Menahem with hopes of gratifying his ambition by the like means, he conspired against the usurped, and served him as he had done his lawful prince. Pul was at this time King of Assyria, who, taking advan- 3233 tages of these disturbances in Israel, advanced against it with an array. But Menahem found means to satisfy him by a present of a thousand talents. Arch- bishop Usher conjectures this Pul to have been the father of Sardanapalus, imagining that name to imply as much as Sard an the son of Pul. It was in the reign of this Sardanapulus, that the Athenians, whose disposition was pushing them on insensibly to a popular government, upon the death of Alemeon, the last of their perpetual arctions, retrenched the powers of these magistrates, and 260 voHNG man's book of knowledge. limited their administration to ten years. Chavops, was the first who held this dignity under these restrictions But we must now turn our eyes towards Italy, and take a view of the first beginnings of that empire, which is in time to swallow up all the rest, and spread its victories to the remotest regions of the known world. After the de- struction of Troy, iEneas, gathering together a few re- mains of his unhappy countrymen, sailed for Italy; where marrying the daughter of King Latinus, he succeeded him in the throne, and left it to his posterity. This race of Latin Kings held the sovereignty for upwards of three hundred years ; nor do we read of any remarkable revolu- tion till the time of Numitor and Araulius. But then Amulius seizing upon the crown, to the prejudice of his elder brother Numitor, remained possessed of it till Romulus and Remus, the sons of lUia, Numitor's daughter, arriving at manhood, restored their grandfather to his inheritance, and slew the usurper. Seventh epocha.^The building of Rome, The revolution was followed soon after by the building of Rome, in the reign of Jotham, King of Judah. 3250 The Romans, (according to Plutarch and others) began to build on the 21st of April. The day was then consecrated to Pales, goddess of shepherds ; so that the festival of Pales, and that of the foundation of the city, were afterwards jointly celebrated at Rome on the same day. This sera, so remarkable in history, as serving the best of any to direct us in regulating -our accounts of the Western and European nations, is removed but a few years from another of no less note in the eastern chronology. For, about six years after the building of Rome, according to the computation of Varro, happened the downfal of the Assyrian monarchy, occasioned chiefly by the effeminacy of Sardanapalus. This prince, neglect ing wholly the administration of public affairs, and shutting himself up in his palace amongst his women and eunuchs, fell into contempt with his subjects ; whereupon Arbaces, governor of Media, and Belesis, governor of Babylon, conspiring against him, besieged hira in his HISTORY AND CHRONOLOGY. 261 capital, and reduced him at last to the necessity of perish- ing miserably with his wives and eunuchs in the flames of his own palace. Upon the dissolution of this mighty empire, there arose two others in its stead, founded by the two leaders of the conspiracy. Belesis had Babylon, Chaldea, and Arabia ; and Arbacas all the rest. Belesis is the same with Nabonetssar, from the beginning of whose reign at Babylon commences the famous astro- nomical sera we are speaking of, from him called the sera of Nabonassar. For this aera we are beholden to Ptolemy's canon, which, beginning with Nabonassar, carries down the succession of the Babylonian ICings, and afterwards of the Persian and Macedonian, quite beyond the birth of Christ. This canon is a sure guide ia regard to the eastern chronology, and comes in the most opportunely that can be imagined for the connecting of sacred and profane history. For, aa it comraenceth several years before the Biibylonish cap- tivity, by which the course of the Jev/ish history is interrupted, we can here take up the series, and continue down the account of time with certainty to the beginniois: of the Christian aera. The first year of Nabonas- 3237 sar coincides with the seventh year of Rome, the second of the 8th Olympiad, the 747th before Christ, and the 3967th of the Julian period. .In the mean time Ahaz ; having succeeded his father Jotham in the kingdom of Judah, was attacked by Rezin, kingof Sjria, and Pekah, king of Israel ; whereupon, applying to the king of Assyria, who is in scripture called Tiglath-Pileser, he readily obtained his assistance. This Tiglath Pileser is bj' some conjectured to be the same with Arbaces the M';de ; but the more probable opinion is, that he was of the royal family of Assyria, his name Tiglath-Pul-Assar having a plain resemblance of Pul and Sardum-Pul, the names of the two former kings. It is likely, therefore, that taking advantage of the confusion that followed upon the dissolution of the Assyrian monarchy, and the division of it between Arbaces and Belesis, he put himself at the head of those who still adhered to the house of Pul, and getting possession of Nineveh, there established a third empire for himself, while Arbaces and Belesis were employed in settling themselves in the provinces they had 262 touNG man's book of knowledge. respectively governed under the former monarch. Thus we see a second Assyrian empire rising out of the ruins of the former, of which Nineveh, as before, remained the capital. Tiglath-Pileser coming with a great army to the assistance of Ahaz, took Damascus, and entirely destroy- ed the kingdom of Syria, uniting it to his own. He likewise greatly distressed that of Israel, and even ra vaged the territories of his friend and ally, king Ahaz. By this means were the kings of Assyria first introduced into Palestine, which, finding to lie convenient for them, they resolved to make a part of their empire. They be- gan with the kingdom of Israel, which Salmane- ser, the son and successor of Tiglath-Pileser, en- 3283 tirely subdued, throwing Hosea, the king thereof, into prison, and carrying the people into captivity. About this time died Romulus, the first king of Rome, after a reign of 37 years. He was all his life engaged in wars, and always returned from them victorious. But this hindered him not from attending both to the civil and religious establishment of his new colony, where he laid the first foundation of those laws and institutions that contributed so much to the advancement of 3290 the Roman empire. A long and uninterrupted peace gave Numa his successor an opportunity of finish- ing his work, by softening the manners of the people, and bringing their religion into a more exact form. In this time several colonies from Corinth and other parts of Greece, built Syracuse in Sicily ; and likewise Crotona and Tarentum, in that part of Italy called Magna Greecia by reason of the many Greek colonies already settled there. Meanwhile Hezekiah had succeeded Ahaz in the throne of Judah. He was a prince renowned for piety and justice ; and so much the favourite of heaven, that it interposed in a miraculous manner both in recovering him from a remarkable sickness, and delivering him from the menaces of Sennacherib, king of Assyria. But Manasseh, his son, not treading in his steps, was sold into the hands of Esarhaddon, the successor of Sen- nacherib. This prince was wise and politic ; he re- united the kingdom of Babylon to that of Nineveh, and by his many conquests, equalled, if not exceeded, in extent of dominion, the arwient Assyrian monarchs atsTORir .vNd cHMSOLoar 263 While Esarhaddon -was thus enlarging his empire, the Medes were beginning to render themselves considerable by the wise administration of Deioces, their first king. He had been raised to the throne on account of his virtue, and put an end to the disorders occasioned by 3296 the anarchy under which his countrymen then lived. He built the city of Echatana, and laid the foundations of a mighty empire. Rome begins now to increase in power and territory, though by slow advances at first. Under TuUus Hostilius, her third king, 3332 and in the 83d year of the city, happened the famous combat of the Horatii and Curiattii, by which Alba was subjected, aud its citizens incorporated with the victorious Romans. At this period begins 3334 the reign of Psaramitichus, in Egypt. It had some time before been divided into twelve parts, over which reigned twelve princes, who as a monument of their union, built the famous labyrinth. But Psam- miiichus, who was one of them, incurring the jealousy of the rest, they expelled him ; whereupon he drew an army togetherj subdued and dethroned the eleven confederate princes, and seized on the whole kingdom for himself. As the lonians and Carians had been very serviceable to him in this revolution, he granted them an establishment in Egypt, hitherto inaccessible to strangers. On this occasion began the first commerce between the Egyp- tians and Greeks, which as it was ever after constantly kept up, we are to account this, according to Herodotus, the sera of true Egyptian history, all that goes before being so darkened by the fables and inventions of the 3343 priests, that it seems very little worthy of credit. In Media, Phraortes succeeded his father Deioces, and after a reign of 32 years left the kingdom to his son Cyaxates, in whose time happened the irruption of the Scythians, who, vanquishing Cyaxares in battle, dispossessed him of all the Upper Asia, and reigned there twenty-eight years. In Judah, Ammon succeeding Manasseh, after a short reign, left the kingdom to his son Josiah, who proved a pious prince, and thoroughly reformed the Jewish state. Rome, in the mean time, was enlarging her territories under her fourth king, Ancus Marcuis, and by the wise establishment of in* 264 TouNO man's book of knowledge. corporating the conquered nations, increased in power and the number of her citizens. Babylon, we have seen, had been re-united to Nineveh, and so continued till the reign of Chiniladan ; but he proving an effeminate prince, Nabopollasar, whom he had made general of his armies against Cyaxares the Mede, rebelled against him, and joining with Astyages, the son of Cyaxares, in- vested Nineveh, took the place, and slew his 3378 master Chiniladan, called otherwise Saracus. — After which, to gratify the Medes, he utterly destroyed that great and ancient city ; and from that time Babylon became the sole metropolis of the Assyrian empire. Na- bopollasar was succeeded by his son Nebuchadnezzar, a prince renowned in history, and who, by his mighty conquests, both in the east and west, raised 3397 Babylon to be the metropolis of the world. By him was Jerusalem taken three several times, and at last totally destroyed ; the whole people of Judah being led into bondage by the conqueror. This is the famous Babylonish captivity of seventy years, so often mentioned in the writings of the prophets. Greece was at this time in a very flourishing way, and began to discover her ac- quirements in learning and the polite arts. Her seven sages rendered her famous ; and Solon, by the wise, laws which he established at Athens, reconciling 3410 liberty and justice, introduce.d such regulations among the citizens as naturally conduced to the forming them a brave and knowing people, Tarquinis Priscua now reigned at Rome. He subdued part of Tuscany ; and having adorned the city with many magni- ficent works, left the throne to Servius TuUius. 3425 This prince is famous for the institution of the census, and the many laws he made in favour of the people. In Egypt, Psamittichus, after a reign of 54 years, was succeeded by his son Nechus, the same who in scripture is called Pharaoh Necho. It 3394 was against him that Josiah, king of Judah fought that unhappy battle in the valley of Megiddo, where he received the fatal wound of which he died. Nechus was succeeded by Psammis, who left the kingdom to his son Apries, the Pharaoh Hophra of the scripture, against whom so many prophecies are levelled. Tha BHTORir AND CBROKOLOO'S'. S6S first year of Apries was the last of Cyaxares, 3410 King of the Medes, who, after a reign of 40 years, Was succeeded by his son Astyages. Nebu- chadnezzar in Babylon, having finished all his expe- ditions, and greatly enriched himself with the 3434 spoils of the conquered nations, set himself to adorn that city, and raised all those stupendous works about it, of which we read with so much wonder in ancient history. Evilmerodach, his son, after a short reign of two yeeirs, becoming intolerable even to 3444 his own relations, they conspired against him, and slew him. Neriglissar, his sister's husband, who headed the conspiracy, succeeded him. About this time Pisistratus usurped the sovereign authority at Athens, which he held with various changes of fortune thirty years, and even left it to his children. The Medes meanwhile were increasing in power under Astyages, which rousing the jealousy of Neriglissar, King of Ba- bylon, he declared war against them. Astyages djring, leaves both the kingdom and the care of the war to Cyeixares his son, called by Daniel, Darius the Mede. As the war wherewith he was threatened was very for- midable, he applied to the King of Persia, who had mar- ried his sister M andana, for assistance. Cambyses sent a good body of troops, and with them Cyrus his son, nephew to Gyaxares, whom that prince ap- 3445 pointed general of his armies againat the King of Babylon. Cyrus was a young prince of great hopes, and had already given signal proofs of courage and con- duct in several former wars under Astyages his grand- father. But his virtues are now going to display them- selves in all their lustre, and present us with the picture of a hero, who, by a train of the most glorioiis actions, has justly merited to be handed down to posterity as a pattern of all that is truly great and praiseworthy in the character of a prince and a ruler. The very name of Cyrus carried such a weight and authority with it as to draw into the alliance of Cyaxares almost all the Kings of the East, nor was it long before he gave proofs of that merit which was already so universally ascribed to him ; for having by his superior abilities in the art of war, vanquished the King of Babylon, and Croesus, his ally, 22 366 tOtfNG MAS's BOOK Of KNOWLECGIS. IQ battle, he pursued his advantage over the latter, sar- louiided him in his capital, and got possession both of hia kingdom and immense riches. With the same expedition he subdued the other allies of the King 3466 of Babylon, made himself master of all Asia Minor, and extended his conquests even into Syria. In fine, he marched against Babylon itself, took that mighty city, and thereby became master of the whole Assyrian emfrire, which he put under the dominion and authority of his uncle Cyaxares ; who now, equally touched with this signal proof of his fidelity, as before with his glorious exploits, gave him his only daughter in marriage. Cy- axares dying within two years, as likewise Cambyses, King of Persia, Cyrus succeeded to the whole monarchy. In this manner was the empire of the East transferred from the Assyrians to the Medes and Persians. But as C^rus was himself a Persian, and all his successors after hin of the same nation, hence it has happened, that this second great empire, as it ought to be accounted, obtains in ancient history the name of the Persian monarchy ; Cyrus, and not Cyaxares being the reputed founder thereof. And, indeed, when we consider that Cyrus alone headed the Medes during this long war, that it was to his valour and wisdom they were indebted for all theif conquests, and that he in person took the great city of Babylon, it seems but just to ascribe to him the honour of this whole revolution. For these reasons we have chosea to date the beginning of this second great empire, not from the taking of Babylon, but from the succession of Cyrus, who alone can with justice be accounted the founder thereof. Eighth epocAa. — fhe reign of Cyrui. In the 4178th year of the Julian period, 2l8 years after the building of Rome, and 536 before the birth of Chriat, Cyrus succeeding to the throne of Cyaxares, and becoming sole monarch of all the east, here -fre are to fix the beginning of the Persian empire. In the first year of his reign he published the famous decree for »e-buildjng the temple of Jerusalem ; the seventy 3468 UtSTORY AND CUKOKOLOGV. 26? yeafs captivity beiog now completed) according as liod been foretold by the prophets. Servius Tullius still reigned at Rome. He had greatly enlarged the city, and by his mild and popular administration was become the darling of his subjects. This excellent prince fell a ■acrifice at last to the perfidy of his own daughter, and the ambitious designs of his son-in-lawi Taf' 3470 quin the Proud, who succeeded him in the throne. Cyrus, after a reign of seven years, left his king- 3475 dom to his son Cambyses. Under him the Per- sians enlarged their empire by the conquest of Egypt. He proved, however, a very brutal prince, unworthy to fill the throne of Cyrus. His brother, Smerdis, he or- dered to be killed privately, on account of a suspicious dream that had disturbed his fancy. He did not long survive him, and upon his death Smerdis, the Magian, Usurped the throne, under the pretence of being the -I rue Sraetdis, the son of Cyrus. However, the cheat was soon discovered, which gave occasion to the fa- mous confederacy of the seven noblemen, the 34'83 result of -^hich was, that Darius, the son of Hys- taspes, was raised to the Persian throne. 'During the feign of this prince, Athens recovered its liberty. Har- modius and Aristogiton delivered their country from the tyranny of Hipparchus, the son of Pisis- 3494 tratus, by slaying the tyrant ; and Hippias, his brother, was obliged to throw himself into the arms of Darius. This was what gave rise to the wars between the Persians a,nd the Greeks. From hence we are to date the mighty glory 6f Athens. We shall soon see this small commonwealth art over^match for all the power of the East ; so true it is, that liberty ennobles the mind, and affords the truest foundation whereon to build the grandeur of a. state. About the time of this revolution at Athens, happened another of the like nature at Rome. Tarquin, by his violence and arbitrary measures, had rendered the royal power odious, and the attempt of hia son Sextus upon Lucretia, completed the public indig- nation. The people, animate^ by the speeches and heroic behaviour of Brutus, shake off the regal tyranny, and declare themselves a free state. This -sera of the Roman liberty commeitceili from the 244ih year 263 TO0NG MAll's BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. after the building of the city. Tarquin, however, 3496 found means to draw in several neighbouring princes to espouse his quarrel, among whom Porsenna, king of the Clusians, bears the most distinguished name in history. It is upon this occasion that the Romans first began to discover that noble ardour for liberty, that in- violable love of their country, which make a bright part of the character of that renowned people. Here we may read of the astonishing valour of Horatius Codes, the intrepid spirit of Scsevola, and the masculine boldness of Clelia. Porsenna, admiring the bravery of the Romans, would not any longer disturb them in the enjoyment of a liberty to which their merit gave them so just a title. — But they who could not be overcome by any foreign force, had well nigh ruined themselves by their intestine divi-- sions. The jealousy between the patricians and plebeians rose to that height, that the latter retired from the city, and intrenched themselves upon a hill, called afterwards Mons Sacer. However, the mild persuasions of Menenius Agrippa, and the concession made by the senate of new plebian magistrates, whose oflSce it was to protect the people against the consula, appeased their discontents, and restored tranquility to the state. The law appointing the institution of these magistrates was called the sacred law, and the magistrates themselves had the title of tribunes of the people. This remarkable revolution hap- pened in the 260th year of the city. Hippias, we have seen, had retired into Persia, and was soli- 3510 citing Darius to make war upon the Athenians. He at length prevailed, and Mardonius was sent 3514 with a numerous army against them. But Mil- tiades, with a handful of men, gave the Persians battle on the plains of Marathon, and entirely routed them. This victory is the most renowned in ancient history, for the Athenians did not exceed ten thousand, and the Persians have been computed at twenty times their num- ber. At Rome the feuds between the nobility and the people still subsisted. The banishment of Coriolanus had well nigh proved fatal to the commonwealth which owed its deliverance from the imminent danger 3516 that threatened it to the tears of the incensed hero's mother. In the mean time, Xerxes succeed- HISTORY AND CHRONOLOGT. 263 ing Darixis in the throne of Persia, prepared t6 fully revenge the defeat at Marathon, by a new expedition against Greece. He is said to have been followed in this attempt by an army of sventeen hundred thousand men. Leonidas, king of Sparta, with only three 3524 hundred Lacedemonians, encountered his whole force in the straights of Thermopilse. For three days he made good the passes against the numerous army of the Persians; but being at length surrounded, he and his fol- lowers were all slain upon the spot. By the wise counsels of Themistocles, the Athenian admiral, the naval army of the Persians was this same year vanquished near Salamis ; and Xerxes, in great fear, repassed the Helle- spont, leaving the command of his land forces to Mardonius. But he, too, the year after, was cut 3525 in pieces with his whole army near Plataea, by Pausanias, king of th6 Lacedemonians, and Aristides, surnamed the Just, general of the Athenians. The battle was fought in the morning, and the evening of the same same day their naval forces obtained a memorable victory over the remainder of the Persian fleet at Mycle, a promontory on the continent of Asia.— Thus ended all the great designs of Xerxes in a miserable disappoint- ment, and the utter destruction of that prodigious army with which the year before he had marched so proudly over the- Hellespont. The Carthagenians, by this time a powerful people, had been engaged by Xerxes to fall upon the Greek colonies in Sicily, while he was employ- ed against them in their own country ; but they had no better success than the Persian monarch, and being shamefully beaten, were obliged to abandon the island. Xerxes, dying after a reign of 21 years, was suc- ceeded in his kingdom by Artaxerzes Longimanus. 3540 He is generally supposed to be the king from whom Nehemiah received the commission to restore and rebuild Jerusalem. But it is now time to turn our thoughts a little towards the Romans, who, having been formed under kings, were but ill provided with laws suited to the constitution of a republic. The reputation of Greece, yet more renowned for the wisdom of its go- vernment than the fame of its victories, determined the Romans to draw up a scheme of laws upon their model, 22* 270 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. Deputies were therefore sent to examine into the consti- tution of the several Greek cites, particularly 3654 those of Athens, whose plan of government seemed to have a greater reserablance with that of Rome. Ten magistrates were elected, with absolute authority, to carry this design into execution. The Decemvirs ac- cordingly composed a body of laws, which having digested into twelve tables, they were proposed to I he people, and received their approbation. It was natural to think, that these magistrates, having finished the business for which they were chosen, would, upon the expiration of their term of power, have resigned their offices, and suffered the government to return to it^ former course. But it seems they found too many charms in authority to quit it so readily; they aimed at no less than perpetuating their command, and vainly thought to entail slavery upon a state whose prevailing passion was love of liberty. Power usurped by unlawful means seldom abstains from violence and excesses ; and the very methods taken to establish it, prove often in the end the cause of its destruction. And so it happened here; for, the Decemvirs declining from that moderation by which they had, in the "beginning of their authority, recommended themselves to the favour of the people, a general discontent arose; and the iniquitous decree of Appiu^ whereby he reduced a father to the cruel neces- sity of murdering his own daughter, so effectually roused the ancient Roman spirit, that disdaining to submit any longer to these oppressors, they abolished the Decemvi- rate, and restored the authority of the consuls. Thus did the blood of Virginia produce a revolution in the Roman slate, not unlike what had before happened in the case of Lucretia. About this time, Cymon, the Athenian ge- neral, rendered himself famous by his many victories over the Persians, insomuch that Artaxerxes, weary of so de- structive a war, signed a treaty of peace highly to the honour and advantage of Greece. He had resolved to pursue a different scheme of politics; and, instead of drawing their whole forces upon himself, endeavoured to weaken them by fomenting their intestine divisions. The war that soon after broke out between the 3573 Athenians and Lacedemonians, made him sens HISTORY AND CHRONOLOGY. 271 ble of the advantages that might accrue from such a line of conduct. It was during this war, described at large by Thucydides and Xenophon, and known in his- tory under the name of the Peloponesian war, that we read of Pericles, Alcibiades, Thrasybulus, Conon, Brasi- das, and Lysander. So many illustrious men, all flourish- ing in the same age, contributed to raise Greece to the highest pitch of glory, and spread her fame to the most distant nations. This fatal war, after it had lasted 27 years, ended at length in the taking of 3600 Athens by Lysander, who had found means to draw into the party of Lacedemonians, Darius Nothus, the son and successor of Artaxerxes. But, the Persians soon became sensible of the error they had committed, in making the Lacedemonians too powerful: for that ambitious republic, having now no rival to 3603 fear, began to extend its view to Asia, and even promoted the expedition of young Cyrus against his bro- ther Artaxerxes Menmon, who had succeeded Darius Nothus. This ambitious prince fell in battle by his own rashness, and left the ten thousand Greeks who served under him exposed to all the dangers of war in an un- known country, several hundreds of miles distant from their own homes, and surrounded on every side with numerous armies. There is not any thing in history more celebrated than this retreat, which has been handed down to us by Xenophon, who himself conducted it, and was one of the ablest commanders, and greatest phi- losophjBTS, of bis time. Thus were the Greeks first made sensible of the real weakness of the 3608 Persian empiiej hitherto deemed so formidable ; and the exploits of Agesilaus, in Asia, soon after, where he bade fair for overturning that mighty monarchy, had he not been recalled by the unhappy divisions of his country, were a plain proof that nothing was wanting but a good general and union among themselves, to com- plete the conquest of the east. Borne was ren- dering herself formidable to all th£ nations around 3610 her ; and Vei, one of the strongest and most opu- lent cities in Italy, was taken- by Camillus, after a siege of ten years. But this great increase of territory was Boon followed by a fatal calamity, that brought the repab- 372 ycvVQ man's book of knowledge. lie to the brink of ruin ; we mean the irruption of 3615 the Qauls, who defeated the Roman army; and advancing against the city itself, laid it in ashes in the 363d year after it had been founded by Romulus. Such of the senators and nobles as chose to survive the ruin of their country, retired into the capital with Manlius, "where they resolutely defended themselves, till they were relieved by Camillus, whose ill usage and banishment bad not diminished his regard to his country. Thus was Rome again restored to her former splendor, by the con- duct and bravery of that great man. In Greece the Lacedemonian power begun to decline ; and Thebes, which hitherto made no figure in the history of that na- tion, raised herself to the highest pitch of glory by the wis- dom and valour of Epaminondas. This general is one of the most illustrious characters of antiquity. He was possessed in an eminent degree of all the virtues requisite in a warrior and a statesman. Nor was he less distin- guished by his abilities as a philosopher, and his amiable quaUties in private life ; insomuch that historians unani- mously represent him as a pattern of all that is great and excellent in human nature. Thebes, after his death, lost that conspicuous figure he had given her, and was no longer able to maintain her reputation. Indeed all Greece is going to submit to a new power, which, begin- ning in Philip, rose at lEist to the dominicm of all 'Asia under his son and successor Alexander. This Philip was King of Macedon, and had been bred up under Epaminondas. As he weis of an enterprising genius; and gave early proofs of his unbounded ambition, all the neighbouring powers set themselves to oppose his grow- ing greatness. But though Ochus, and his son Arses, Elings of Persia, did their utmost to thwart his designs } though the Athenians, roused by the eloquence of De- mosthenes, that intrepid defender of his country's liberties, drew almost all Greece into a confederacy against him ; he, notwithstanding, triumphed over every difficulty, and the victory of Choronea, rendered him absolute in all the Grecian states. He was now forming the plan of 3665 an expedition into the east ; and had projected no- thing less than the total overthrow of the Persian empire, when an untimely deUh hurried him out of the HISTORY AND CHRONOLOGY. 273 world. Alexander, surnamed the Great, his son, succeeded him ; a prince, who from his earliest 3568 years had given proofs of an heroic soul, that seemed destined for the conquest of the universe. Much about the same time, Darius Codomannus ascended the throne of Persia. He had in a private station distinguished himself by his valour and prudence : but it being his fate to encounter the prevailing fortune of Alexander, all his efforts proved insufficient to support him against that for- midable rival. For Alexander, having first settled the affairs of Greece, over-ran Asia Minor with amazing rapidity, defeated Darius in three pitched battles ; and, upon the death of that prince, who was treacherously alaiaby Bessus, became sole monarch of all the east. Ninth epoeha — AltJMnder the Great. Here then begins our 9th epoeha, not from Alexander's succession to the throne of Macedonia, but from the death of Darius, in whom the Persian empire ended. For Alexander pursuing his victories with the utmost expedition, and having made himself master of almost all the provinces of the east, became 3674 thereby the founder of the third, or Macedonian empire. This happened in the 4384th year of the Julian period, 424 years after the building of Rome, and 330 before the birth of Christ. During this victorious pro- gress of Alexander, Rome was engaged in a long war with the Samnites, whom after many battles she at length subdued, chiefly by the valour and conduct of Papirius Cursor, one of the greatest generals of 3681 his time. Alexander still continuing his con- quests, penetrated as far as India, and returning to Ba- bylon, there died in the 33d year of his ag& After his death, his empire was variously divided among his fol- lowers. Perdiccas, Ptolemy, the son of Lagus, Antigo- nus, Seleucus, Lysimachus, Antipater, and his son Cassander, who bad been all commanders under this great conqueror, and learned from him the art of war, formed a design of rendering themselves masters of the several provinces over which they were constituted go- 274 YOUNo man's book of knowledqx. vernors. They sacrificed to their ambition the whole family of Alexander ; his brother, his mother, his wives, his children, and even his sisters. Nothing was to be seen but wars, bloodshed, and ceaseless revolutions. During these disorders several places of Asia Minor shook off the Macedonian yoke, and established themselves into independent kingdoms. In this manner, were the realms of Pontus, Bithynia, and Pergamus formed, which, by their advantageous situation, and a steady application to tra£Sc, rose afterwards to great wealth and power. Armenia too about the same time became a dis- tinct kingdom; and Mithridates, with his son of the same name, founded that of Cappadocia. But the two most considerable monarchies that arose upon this occa- sion were that of Egypt, founded by Ptolemy the son of Lagus, and that of Asia, or Syria, founded b}' Seleucus ; for these continued steady and permanent, and were in- herited by their posterity, the Ptolemies and Seleucids, for many years. Thus was all the east subject to Gtreece, and received its language and customs, insomuch that, though it was not under the dominion of one prince, as formerly, yet the Greeks universally beaiing sway in those several principalities into which it was divided, this hath seemed a sufficient reason to historians for stiling the times we are speaking of the period of the Grecian or Macedonian empire. In Greece we meet with nothing but a continued train of revolutions. Cas- sander, Pyrrhus, King of Epirus, Demetrius Poliocertes, Lysimachus, and Seleucus, reigned successively in Ma- cedonia ; each establishing himself by the expulsion of his predecessor. The Romans were all this while ex- tending their conquests in Italy, arid having subdued the Samnites, Brutians, and Hetrurians, threatened Taren- tum with the same yoke. The Tarentines, finding themselves too weak to resist that powerful republic, cast their eyes upon Pyrrhus, King of Epirus, whose great military fame made them believe they should be invinci- ble under so renowned a commander. Pyrrhus 3725 obtained two successive victories over the Romans, but in the end was beaten by the Consul CuriuS) and forced to abandon Italy. Antigonus Gonatus got fliU possession of the throne of Macedonia, and left it HISTORY Af>D <;pS0NOI.O0Y. 275 3^32 to his posterity, though not without great oppo- sition from Pyrrhus, who w^as killed at length at Argos, by a tile thrown from a housetop. The Achean league, projected and set on foot by Aratas, began about this time to make a figure in Greeca It was a confede- racy of several powerful cities of Peloponnesus and the adjoining regions, in defence of liberty, and indeed the last effort made by the Greeks to maintain their inde- pendency and freedom. In Italy, the Romans, after the departure of Pyrrhus, found nothing able to oppose their power. They had been enlarging their territories by an almost continual series of wars for upwards of 480 years, and now found themselves masters of the whole country from the feirtbest part of Hetruria to the Ionian Sea, and from the Tuscan Sea across the Apennines to the Adriatic Thus their ambition, crowned with success, inspired them with still greatejr views. The adjoining island of Sicily, as it lay convenient for them, so was it possessed in part by the Caithaginians, a powerful peo- ple, whose neighbourhood they began to look upon with an eye of jealousy. We have seen the foundation of this republic by Dido, and that it was considerable for wealth and extent of territory as far back as the reign of Xerxes. At the time we are speaking of^ their dominions reached a great way on both sides of the Mediterranean Sea. For, besides the African coast, of which they were en- tirely masters, they had also many conquests in Spain, settled themselves in Corsica and Sardinia, and possessed several towns in Sicily. This, added to their immense wellth acquired by commerce, and the sovereignty of the sea, which no aatimi could then dispute with them, made the Romans consider them as formidable rivals, who, if not speedily checked, might grow to a power too mighty even for Italy itself. Hence the rise of the se- veral Punic wars, which in the end proved so fatal to the Carthaginians. That we are now to speak 3739 of, began in the 489th year of the city ; and is re- markable, not only as being the first foreign war in which the Romans were engaged, but also because herein they formed the design of making themselves masters at sea, and, which is almost beyond belief^ accomplished it. The consul DuilUus ventured to fight the Carthaginian .fleet, 276 ToONG man's book op knowledge. and obtained a complete victory. Regalus, his successor, no less distinguished himself, and, landing in Africa, reduced Carthage to the greatest extremity ; insomuch that, but for the arrival of Xantippus, the Lacedemonian, it must have been taken. That experienced general, by his wise conduct, gave a great turn to the affairs of Africa Regulus was vanquished and made prisoner ; but this reverse of fortune served 'only to add more lustre to his fame. Being sent into Italy to negotiate a peace, and treat of an exchange of prisoners, he strenuously de- fended in the senate that law by which it was declared inconsistent with the glory of the Soman name to redeem prisoners taken captive in a day of battle. Upon bis return to Africa, we are told, he suffered a cruel death from the resentment of the Carthaginians, who were in- capable of admiring that nobleness of soul which made him prefer the interest of bis country to all private con- siderations. The war was maintained for a long time with various success ; Hamilcar, the Carthaginian ge- neral, distinguishing himself eminently in Sicily by his great military skill; but at last, the consul, Lutatius, obtaining a complete victory over the enemy's 3764 fleet, near the i^gatian Isles, Carthage was obliged to submit, and accept of such terms as the Romans were pleased to grant. Immediately after the conclusion of this war, which had lasted four and twenty years, the Carthaginians found themselves involved in another, which brought them to the very brink of de- struction. The mercenary troops, of which their armies were composed, revolting, for want of their -pay, were joined by almost all the cities of Africa, who hated the Carthaginian government. All endeavours to appease them proved ineffectual ; they invested Carthage itself ; and that grea( city had been inevitably lost, but for the valour and conduct of Hamilcar, surnamed Barcas. He found means to vanquish the rebels, and recover all the revolted cities. The Carthaginians, however, upon this occasion, lost Sardinia, by the treachery of the Romans, who, taking advantage of their domestic troubles, seized that impor- tant island, and even augmented the tribute they had at the end of the war imposed upon that unhappy state. HI3T0RV AND obRONOLOGT. 27*7 Carthage was obliged to take all in good part, as not being in a condition to oppose these encroachments. Thej now began to think of re-establishing their domi- nion in Spain, which had been greatly shaken by the late revolt. Hamilcar was sent to command in that pro- vince, where he carried on the war for nine years, with great success. His son, the famous Hannibal, was in the camp with him, and not only learned under that renowned commander the whole art of war, but also at this time contracted that implacable hatred against the Romans, which afterwards gave rise to so many wars. Asdrubal succeeded Hamilcar in the command of the army. He governed with great prudence : and by his mild peace&.ble administration, thoroughly established the Carthaginian power in those parts. Meanwhile the Romans were engaged in a war with Teuta, Queen of the lUyrians, who suffered her subjects to commit piracy on the sea coast, but she was soon forced to submit, and resign part of her dominions to the conquerors. Their next war was with the Gauls, whom they accounted their most formidable enemies; and therefore, though they began to entertain a jealousy of the increase of the Carthaginian power in Spain, yet not daring to break with that republic in the present critical conjuncture, they sent ambassadors to Asdrubal to draw him by fair words into a treaty, wherein he should covenant not to pass the Iberus, which was accordingly agreed to. Hereupon the Romans applied themselves seriously to the ■^^r against the Gauls ; and having vanquished them in several battles, passed the Po, pushed on their conquests on the other side of that river, and thereby became masters of all Italy, from the Alps Id the Ionian Sea. About this time died Asdrubal in Spain; and Hannibal, at the age of 25, succeeded him in the com- mand of the army. He was the darling of the soldiers, who fancied they saw in him all the virtues they had so often admired in his father Hamilcar. Nor did his be- haviour disappoint their expectations ; for he completed the conquest of Spain with amazing rapidity ; and, thinking himself strong enough now to enter upon the long-projected war with the Romans, advanced with his army, and invested Saguntum. The complaints of the 23 278 YOUNG man's bq^k of knowledge. Roman ambassadors were very liltle regarded at Car- thage. The loss of Sicily, the treacherous behaviour of the Romans in seizing Sardinia, and augmenting the tribute exacted at the end' of the war, and their unjust attempts to abridge their power and bound their conquests in Spain, had so irritated the minds of the Carthaginians, that all the endeavours of the faction which op- 3785 posed Hannibal were fruitless. Hereupon war was proclaimed against Carthage, by order of the Roman Senate, in the 336th year of the city. Mean- time Hannibal was taking all the measures necessary to secure the success of his designs. The Italic Gauls were gained over by ambassadors secretly despatched for that purpose ; the nations through which he was to pass were for the most part prevailed on by presents not to oppose his march ; and the peace of Africa and Spain were secured by strong ^detachments of troops, leff in those parts, under the command of proper governors. When all things were now ready for the expedition, he crossed, the Iberus, traversed the Pyrenees, Transalpine Gaul, and the Alps, and came pouring down with all his forces upon Italy, while the Romans hardly yet imagined him set out from Spain. The Italic Gaials readily joined him, and thereby very seasonably rein- forced his army, which had suffered extremely in its pas- sage over the Alps. Four battles, successively lost, made it probable that Rome must soon fall into the hands of this irresistible conqueror. Sicily too followed the fortune of the Carthaginians. Hieronymus, King of Syracuse, declared war against the Romans; almost all Iialy abandoned them ; and the republic seemed deprived of its last resource by the death of the two Scipios in Spain. In this extremity, Rome owed her safety to the valour and conduct of three great men. The firmness of Fabius, who, despising popular rumours, pursued stea- dily those slow measures, by which alone he found Han- nibal could be vanquished, served as a rampart to his country. Marcellus, who raised the siege of Nola, and took Syracuse, revived by degrees the courage of the Roman troops. But the glory of conquering Hannibal, and putting a final end to this dailgerous war, was re- served for young Scipio. At the age of twenty-four, he HISTORY AND CHBOXOI.OGY. 279 andertook to command in Spain, -where his father and uncle had both lost their lives. Immediately upon his arrival, he invested new Carthage, and took it. His affability and humanity drew almost all the nations of Spain into the alliance of the Romans. The Cartha- ginians were obliged to abandon that rich and fruitful country ; and Scipio, not yet satisfied with so glorious a triumph, pursued them even into Africa. Every thing gave way to his superior valour and abilities. The allies of the Carthaginians forsook them, their armies were de- feated, and that haughty republic was now made to tremble in its turn. Even the victorious Hannibal, who had maintained his ground in Italy for sixteen years, in spite of all the efforts of the Romans, was found unable to stop the progress of this young conqueror. Scipio defeated him in a pitched battle, and forced the Cartha- ginians to submit to the terms of peace he had prescribed to them. In this manner ended the 3802 second Punic war, in the 552d year of the city, just 17 years after its commencement. Scipio was ho- noured with the surname of Afiicanus ; and Rome, hav- ing thus subjected the Gauls and Africans, saw no rival from whose power she had reason to apprehend any real danger. If we now look back a little into the affairs of Asia, which during the times we have been speaking of, were entirely disjointed from those of Europe, we find, that about the middle of the first Punic war, while Antiochus Theos, King of Sjnia, the son of Antiochus Soler, was engaged in a war with Ptolemy, King of Egypt, Theo- dutus, governor of Bactria, revolted, and declared himself King of that province. It was now a rich and populous country, and had in it no less than a thousand cities, all which he got under his obedience ; and while Antiochus delayed to look that way, by reason of his wars with Egypt, made himself too strong in them to be afterwards reduced. This example was followed by almost all the other nations of the east, particularly the Parthians, who beaded by Arsaces, expelled the Macedonians, and laid the foundations of an empire, which, in 3754 time, extended itself over all the Higher Asia, and grew to that strength and power, that not even the 280 vouNO man's book of knowledge. Romans themselves, when arrived to their highest pitch of grandeur, were able to shake the throne of the Arsa- cidae, for so the Parthian Kings were called, from Arsa- ces, the founder of their race and empire. These revolts greatly weakened the empire of the Syrian Kings, for henceforth they were almost entirely secluded from all the provinces that lay beyond the Tigris, Several at- tempts were indeed made to recover them, but in vain, which obliged them to turn their thoughts towards those parts of their dominions that bordered upon Egypt ; in- somuch that Judea, which lay between the two king- doms, became a ground of endless wars and contentions, and occasioned the shedding of torrents of blood. The Romans, after the peace with Carthage, began to turn their thoughts towards Greece. Philip, King of Mace- don, had entered into an alliance with Hannibal, when in Italy, and this was looked upon as a sufficient ground fbr a war. The consul Flaminius was sent 3808 against him, who, by his victories reduced the power of that prince, and restored the several cities of Greece to their liberty. Though every thing thus gave way to the Roman power, they could not yet be easy while Hannibal, whom they still looked upon as their most formidable enemy, was alive. They dreaded the bravery and enterprising genius of that great man. Their endeavours to destroy him brought upon them a new war ; for, being reduced to fly his country, he took refuge with Antiochus, surnamed the Great, King of Syria; and, inspiring him with a jealousy of the Roman power, persuaded him to oppose their growing greatness. In the management of the war, however, he rejected the wise counsels of this experienced general ; and was, therefore, disappointed in all his designs. Beaten by land and sea, he was compelled to submit to the 3815 terms of peace imposed by Lucius Scipio, the brother of Scipio Africanus. Hannibal now sought protection from Prusias, King of Bithynia, where finding himself still persecuted by embassies from the Romans, to avoid falling into their hands, he ended his days by a dose of poison. Upon the death of Seleucus, the son of Antiochus the Great, Antiochus Epiphanes, who had been some time a hostage at Rome, got posses- HISTOET AND CHRONOLOGY. 281 sioa of the throne of Syria. He is remarkable for setting on foot a cruel persecution against the Jews, which dri- ving them to extremities, many of them united in their own defence, under Matthias, the father of Judas Mac- cabeus, so renowned for the many victories he obtained over the numerous armies of the King of Syria. In the mean time, Perseus had succeeded Philip in the ifing- dom of Macedonia ; eind, presuming too much on his weedth and numerous armies, ventured to engage in a war with the Romans. But he was soon made sensible of his unequal strength ; and, being vanquished in battle by Paulus i^lmilius, was constrained to surrender lumself into his hands. Thus the kingdom of 3836 Macedon, which had for near two hundred j'ears given masters not only to Greece, but to all the kingdoms of the east, was now reduced to the form of a Roman province, which leads us to the tenth and last period of our history. The Roman greatness, indeed, commenceth properly from the total reduction of Italy, and the superiority they gained over the CarthEiginians, in the first Punic war. Nevertheless, in regulating the succession of the great empires, the most natural order seems to be that which represents them rising one after another, and establishing each its power and greatness, upon the ruin of that which went before. This is the method we have hitherto fol- lowed, and indeed the only one that, according to our apprehension, preserves a due order and distinctness in ancient history. Thus, upon the death of Sardanapalus, the Assyrian inonarchy was dissolved, yet reviving again in the Kings of Nineveh and Babylon, that revolution WEis not considered as the aera of a new empire ; but when the power of the Assyrians was utterly broken, and the dominion of Asia wholly transferred to another people, by Cyrus, where we fixed the beginning of the Persian empire. In like manner, though the Persians were greatly weakened under Xerxes, and his son. Art- axerxes Longimanus, and forced to accept of such terms of peace as Greece was willing to grant them ; insomuch that the Greeks, under Cimon, may be justly said to have given law to the Persian empire ; yet, as that monarchy still subsisted under kings of its own, and was not finally 282 YOUNG man's book oj knowledge. subdued till Alexander passed with an army into Asia, and overthrew Darius in the plains of Arbela, all histo- rians extend its duration to the period we are speaking of. But, after that defeat, the sovereignty of Asia passing from the Persians to the Macedonians, here begins the third ^reat empire, which continued under Alexander and his successors. The same reasons inducpd us to lengthen out the times of the Macedonian greatness, to the defeat of Perseus, by Paulus ^Emilius ; for, though the Romans had long before given laws to Greece, and even to the kings of Macedon, yet that kingdom was not utterly destroyed till the time of the above overthrow, when, becoming a province of the Roman empire, all the power and dominion that had formerly belonged to it was transferred to the conquerors, and Rome thereby advanced to the sovereignty of the world. Thus, we have a regular succession of empires, establishing them- selves one upon the ruins of the other ; and being now arrived at the last and greatest, we shall trace it in its progress and gradual advancement, which will complete the plan of ancient history, and furnish such a view of past times, as may be sufficient for enabling the reader to pursue the train of ages in an exact connected series. Tenth epocha. — The Defeat of Perseus. In the 4546th year of the Julian period, which answers to the 5S6th year of Rome, and 168th before Christ, Paulus ./Emilius having vanquished Perseus, and redu- ced his kingdom to the form of a Roman province, the Macedonian empire ceased, and that of Rome 3836 succeeded in its stead. The consul, ^milius, was honoured with a splendid triumph ; and the Romans, who were now masters of all Greece, began to think themselves more nearly interested in the affairs of Asia. Antiochus Epiphanes dying, his son, An- 3840 tiochus Eupator, a minor of nine years old, suc- ceeded, under the tuition of Lysias. Demetrius Soter, the rightful heir, was then an hostage at Rome, but could not obtain leave of the senate to go and take possession of the kingdom, it being judged more for thp HISTORY AND CHRONOLOGY. 2S3 advantage of the Romans to have a boy reign in Syria, than a grown man, of mature understanding, as Deme- trius then was. Under Antiochus Eupator, the persecu- tion of the Jews still continuing, Judas Maccabeus set himself to oppose it, and signalised his valour by the many victories he obtained over the Syrians. Meantime, Demetrius Soter, escaping from Rome, is acknowledged by the Syrians for their king, and young Antiochus, with his governor, Lysias, slain. This, however, made no alteration with regard to the Jews ; they were still persecuted as before, and Demetrius sending numerous armies, one after another, against them, they were all severally defeated by Judas ; but being at length overpowered by the multitude of his enemies, he 3843 was slain, fighting with astonishing braverj'. His brother Jonathan succeeded him in the charge of defend- ing the Jews ,* and no less distinguished himself by his valour, and a firmness that no misfortunes were able to shake. The Romans, pleased to see the kings of Syria humbled, readily granted the Jews their protection, and declared them their friends and allies. Alexander Balas, pretending to be the son of Antiochus Epiphanes, and supported by Ptolemy Philometor, king of Egypt, claimed the throne of Sj^ia ; and, having slain 3855 Demetrius, got possession of the kingdom. The Carthaginians, who had now recovered in some measure the great losses sustained during the second Punic war, could not, by all their submissions, ward off the jealousy of the Romans ; who, still dreading the power of that warlike republic, declared war against it, with a resolu- tion of destroying it utterly, that they might rid them- selves for ever of so formidable a rival. In Syria, De- metrius Nicator, the son of Demetrius Soter, setting him- self to recover his father's kingdom, vanquished Alexan- der Balas in battle, and got possession of the throne. This same year was rendered famous by the de- 3858 struction of two celebrated cities, Carthage and Corinth. The former was taken by Scipio Emilianus, after a war of three years, who thereby confirmed the name of Africanus in his family, and revived the glory of the great Scipio, his grandfather. Corinth was re- duced to ashes by L. Mammius, the consul, and with it 284 TouNG man's book of knowledge. ended the famous Achean league. This confederacy, in defence of liberty, had some lime before risen to great renown, by the valour and abilities of PhilopBemon, one of the most renowned generals that Greece ever produced. And; indeed, after him, we read of no other of that nation ■who distinguished himself by any eminent accomplish- ments ; which made the hero we are speaking of, to be fililed, as Plutarch tells us. The last of the Greeks. After his death, the Achean league no more supported itself with the same reputation as formerly ; and the Romans growing jealous of it, it was this year, as we have seen, dissolved, by the destruction of Corinth. All the famous statues, paintings, and other curious works of art, where- with that city had been so richly adorned, being upon this occasion transported to Rome, these masters of the world, who had hitherto boasted of no other knowledge than >that of war, politics, and agriculture, began hence- forth to value themselves upon a polite taste, and the relish of what was excellent in the fine arts. Thus, learning became honourable at Rome ; the liberal sciences were encouraged ; and such advances were made in all the various branches of knowledge, that we shall see the Augustan age no less distinguished by the productions of the men of genius, than by the exploits and bravery of the many heroes wherewith it abounded. Syria, in the mean time, was the scene of new revolutions. Antiochus Theos, the son of Alexander Balas, under the tuition of Diodotus Tryphon, dethroned Demetrius Nicator, who, by his ill conduct in the government, had incurred the hatred of his subjects. He recovered his autho- 3861 rily, however, soon after, nnd declared Judea a free and independent state, in consideration of the services he had received- from Simon, the brother and successor of Jonathan. By this grant, Simon was con- stituted high-priest and sovereign prince of the Jews; the land released from all taxes, tolls, and tributes; and every thing that bore the stamp of a foreign yoke being abolished, Judea henceforth became a distinct kingdom, under princes of its own. About this time, the empire of the Parthians began to grow formidable, by the victories of Mithridates ; who, having subdued India and Bactria, was advancing with an army towards the Euphrates, to BISTORT AND CHRONOLOGV. 285 push his conquests on that side. Whereupon, the inha- bitants of those parts, calling in Demetrius Nicator to their assistance, he conceived the design of again redu- cing the Parthians, whom the Syrians still regarded as rebels He obtained many victories over Mitbridates ; but prepariug to return into Syria, to chtistise Tryphon, who, after murdering Antiochus Theos, had himself usurped the crown, he unfortunately fell into an ambus- cade, and was made prisoner by the Parthians. Try- phon, who thought himself secure by this disaster of his adversary, was suddenly abandoned by his subjects, to whom he had rendered himself insupportable by his pride. As Demetrius was still a prisoner in Parthia, and his children, by Cleopatra, were under age, it was ne- cessary to look out for a protector ; and this office natu- rally fell to the share of Antiochus Sidetes, the brother of Demetrius. But Cleopatra stopt not here ; for under- standing that Nicator had married Koduguna, the daugh- ter of Phraates, who had succeeded Mithridates in the throne of Parthia, she, out of revenge, made Antiochus Sidetes, her husband. When he had settled himself in the kingdom, and put an end to the usurpation of Tryphon, he entered upon a war with the Par- 3873 thians, under pretence of delivering his captive brother. At first he had full success, overthrew Phraates in three battles, and recovered Babylon, Media, and the other eastern provinces, formerly belonging to the Syrian kings, Parthia only excepted, where Phraates was redu- ced within the narrow limits of the first Parthian king- dom. The Parthian monarch, not discouraged by these losses, watched the opportunity of the Syrian's army going into winter-quarters, where, being obliged to dis- perse all over the country, by reason of their great num- bei-s, he fell upon them unexpectedly ; and advancing against Antiochus, who was hastening with the forces about him to help the quarters that lay next him, he overpowered him with numbers, slew him and all his followers ; and, pushing his advantage, made so dreadful a slaughter, that there scarce returned a man into Syria, of all this numerous army, to carry thither tha mournful news of so terrible an overthrow. In the interim, Demetriua was returned into Syria, and on his brother's death there, 286 Movtsa Man's book of Knowlgdcie. again recovered the kingdom. ForPhraates, after being thrice vanquished by Antiochus, had released him from his captivity, and sent him back into Syria; hoping that, by raising troubles there for the recovery of his crown, he might force Antiochus to return for the sup- pressing them ; but, on the obtaining of this victory, he sent a party of horse to bring him back again. Deme- trius, being aware hereof, made such haste, that he wag gotten over the Euphrates into Syria, before these forces could reach the borders of that country; and by this means again recovered his kingdom. But he was soon dispossessed by Alexander Zebina, the son of 8S80 Balas, who was in his turn vanquished and ex- pelled by Antiochus Gryphus. The succession of the kings' of Syria being very perplexed by reason of the intestine divisions of that kingdom, and the many different pretenders to the crown, has obliged us to be somewhat particular in their history, to prevent confusion. Let us now turn our eyes towards the Romans, whom we find engaged in a war with the Numantines, and so often defeated, that they were obliged to send Scipio Emilianus, as their last resource and hope, before they could subdue that warlike people. They were 3871 also about the same time in no small danger of an insurrection of their own slaves in Sicily, un- der Eunus, insomuch that they were obliged to employ the whole forces of the republic against them. Attalus, king of Pergamus, dying, left the Romans heirs to his immense wealth ; who, not satisfied with the dominion of Italy, Greece, and Africa, were n,ow beginning to ex- tend their conquests beyond the Alps,, where Sextus, having subdued the Saluvians,, established the first Ro- man colony at Aix, in Provence, Fabius defeated fhe AUobrogians ; and Narbonese Gaul, was reduced into the form of a province. But, though the republic was thus enlarging her territories a-broad, she was far from enjoying that domestic tranquillity, which makes the security and strength of a state. The avarice, usurpa- tion, and ambition of the patricians had encroached so far upon tRe properties and privileges of the people, that they stood in need of new defeiid,ers to save them from absolute ruin, The two Gracchi, who generously un- aiSTORt AND CSKOSOLOGlr. 2S7 dertook that office, being overpowered bj the faction of the nobility, perished in the glorious attempt. Aftei them, few tribunes arose possessed of that noble spirit of liberty, which hitherto makes so eminent a part of the character of this brave people. Faction, bribery, and corruption, began to prevail universally among them ; and we shall soon see these conquerors of the world them- selves made slaves to the worst of tyrants. Ju- gartha, king of Numidia, infamous by the mur- 3889 der of his brothers. Who had been left under the protection of the Romans, defended himself a long timei more by his largesses than by arms. Marius was, at length, sent against him : and, having put an end to that troublesome war, signalized himself next by the defeat of the Teutones and Cimbri, who threatened all the provinces of the Roman empire, and even Italy 3904 itself, with destruction No sooner were these enemies quelled, than a new and more formidable one arose in Mithridates, king of Pontus, who, having made himself master of all Asia Minor, passed into Greece, and was not without great difficulty driven thence b}' Sylla. Meanwhile, Italy, habituated to arms, and exercised in war, endangered the Roman empire by an univer- sal revolt: and, to add to all those calamities, 3913 Rome saw herself at the same time torn by the factions of Marius and Sylla ; one of whom had, by his victories, spread his fame to the remotest quarters of the north and south, and the other signalised himself as tha conqueror of Greece and Asia. Sylla, styled the Fortu- nate, was bat loo much so against his country, over which he assumed a tyrannic sway, and laid the foun- dation of all the ensuing troubles, by the unhappy precedent of his perpetual dictatorship. Every 3925 one, in his turn, aimed at dominion, Sertorius, a zealous partizan of Marius, fixed himself in Spain, and entered into a treaty with Mithrideites. It was in vain to think of opposing force to a general of his re- putation and experience : and Pompey himself 3931 could no otherwise master him, than by introdu- cing dissentions among his followers, Rome found a yet more formidable enemy in ISpartacus, the Gladiator, who brought her to the very brink of iruin, and wa« S8S TouNa man's book of knowledob. found invincible till the great Pompey was sent 3936 against him. LucuUus, in the mean time, made the Roman arms to triumph in the East. Mith- ridates was beaten in every encounter, and, retiring be- yond the Euphrates, found himself still pressed and pur- sued by his victorious enemy. But this general, invin- cible in battle, found it impossible to retain the soldiers in obedience, and repress that licentiousness, which, like a phrensy, seized the whole Roman army. Mithridates, not discouraged by his many defeats, was again prepa- ring to make bead against his enemies ; and Pompey, the last hope and refuge of the Romans, was thought alone capable of terminating this long and destructive war. It was on this occasion that his glory rose to the highest ; he finally subdued this valiant and politic prince, reduced Armenia, whither he had fled for refuge ; and, pursuing his advantage, added Albania, Ibe- 3941 ria, Syria, and Judea, to the Roman empire. While Pompey was thus employed in gathering laurels in the East, Cicero was intent on crushing a dan- gerous conspiracy at home. That renowned orator, who had laid out so much of his time in the study of elo- quence, found now a glorious opportunity of exerting it in defence of his country ; and by it, more than by the arms of his colleague, Antony, were the dark and dan- gerous machinations of Cataline, defeated. Could Rome have been saved from slavery, the eloquence of Cicero, and the virtue of Cato, those intrepid defenders of hberty and the laws, seemed to oflfer fair for it. But their efforts availed little to save a state that was rushing headlong into ruin ; and where luxury, ambition, and avarice, getting universal possession of the minds of men, rendered them insensible to all great and generous de- signs, and wholly stifled the noble spirit of freedom. Pompey reigned without a rival in the senate, and his great authority and power made him absolute master of all its deliberations. Ceesar, by his victories in Gaul, was endeavouring to get himself a name and interest that might bring him upon a level with Pompey and Crassus. These three, combining in the design to op- press their country, governed with absolute authority ; and Cicero, whose eloquence and zeal for liberty gave BiSTOBT AND CHfeONOLOOT. 289 ihem umbrage, was banished that city he had so lately saved from utter ruin. In the mean time, Crassus, being bent upon an expedition against the Parthians, had the misfortune to be cut oflf with his whole army ; a loss by so much the more fatal to the Roman state, as it was chiefly by him that the rival factions of Caesar and Pompey were kept united. His death was 3955 followed by a bloody civil war ; and Rome lost her liberty fot ever in the plains of Pharsalia. Caesar, victorious, and now master of the universe, traversed with incredible expedition, almost all the known countries of the world. Egypt, Asia, Mauritania, Spain, &c. beheld this mighty conqueror triumphing over all his opposers. Brutus and Cassius, animated by a zeal for liberty, en- deavoured to rescue their country from slavery, by assassinating the usurper; and the eloquence of 3961 Cicero, seconding the glorious design, gave at first some hopes that Rome might yet see better days.— But it was the fate of that unhappy city to fall soon after into the hands of Antony, Lepidus, and young Oc- tavius, who by their bloody proscriptions, almost totally extirpated the Roman nobility. Even Cicero, whose credit with the senate had chiefly contributed to the ad- vancement of Octavius, was abandoned by that ungrate- ful monster to the resentment of Antony, his implacable enemy. In the division of the empire, Italy and Rome fell to the share of Octavius ; who, affecting to govern with great clemency and moderation, endeavoured to throw the odium of the late cruelties upon his colleagues. In fine, Brutus and Cassius, the last refuge of the repub- lic, both falling in the battle of Philippi, Rome, after them, never made so much as an effort for the recovery of her liberty, but quietly submitted to the dominion of the conquerors. They did not, however, remain long united. Antony and Ceesar, combining to 3973 ruin Lepidus, turned next their arms one against the other. The battle of Actium decided the empire of the world in favour of Ceesar ; for Antony, upon that disaster, was abandoned by all his friends, and even by his beloved Cleopatra, for whose sake he had brought all these misfortunes upon himself Herod, the Idumean, who owed his all to that general, was constramed to 24 Si90 YOIINO man's book of KN0WLEl)6fi. submit to the conqueror, and thereby confirmed himself in the possession of the throne of Judea. Thus did Oc- tavius triumph over all opposition ; Alexandria opened its gates to him ; Egypt became a Roman province j Cleopatra, disdaining to adorn the victor's tri- 3977 umph, ended h6r days by poison ) and Antony^ sensible that he could no longer withstand the power of his adversary, by a voluntary death left Caesar in the unrivalled possession of the HomaH empire. This fortunate prince, under the name of Augustus, with the title of emperor, took possession of the government. Thus was the Roman commonwealth, 727 years after the foundation of that city by Romulus, converted into an absolute monarchy. Augustus now set himself to reforn* the many abuses that had crept into the state during the wars ; and, knowing that the republican spirit of the llomans, though greatly weakened, was not yet alto- gether broken, he endeavoured, by the mildness and justice of his government, to reconcile his countrymen to that power which it was in vain for them any longer to oppose. With this view, he introduced among them learning and the polite arts, which, by the encourage-' ment they met with from him and Macsenas, began to lift uji their he£cds and flourish. Horace, Virgil, Ovid, and Livy, adorned the age we are speaking of, and do it more honour by their inimitable writings, than all the victories of the prince under whom they lived. Elo- quence alone, of all the branches of literature, lay uncul- tivated. That expired with Cicero and the free state f nor need we wonder at it ; since liberty, which had hitherto animated the orator, ceasing, the art itself be- came useless, and was regarded with an eye of jealousy by the men in power. Augustus having, by this wiser and politic management, secured the tranquility of Italy" and Rome, began to look abroad into the provinces, with a view to check the enemies of the Roman name, who, taking advantage of the intestine divisions of the empire, had committed many outrages. He subdued the Can- tabrians and Astnrians, bordering upon the Pyrenees : Ethiopia sued for peace ; the Parthians, dreading 3980 his power, sent back the standards taken from Crassus, and all their Roman prisoners; India JtlStbRY ANi) caHONOLOGY. 291 sought his alliance : Palmonia submitted to his power ; and Germany trembled at the name of this mighty 4004 conqueror. Victorious every where, both by land and sea, he shut the temple of Janus, and gave peace to all the Roman empire. This happened in the ^54th year after the building of Rome, and 4'?14th of the Julian period, which coincides with the first year of the Christian sera, according to the computation in use in these western parts. We have now completed Our original design, which \ras to lay before the reader a short view of ancient his- tory, from the creation of the world to the birth of Christ. We have thrown together all the material transactions of the different nations of the world ; and, by referring them as near as possible to the years in which they hap- pened, have, we hope, given a pretty distinct notion of the coincident periods of history. By keeping this ge- neral plan constantly in mind) We shall be enabled to read either ancient or modern writers upon this subject ^vith all the advantage to ourselves we can desire. For, whether they make choice of a longer or shorter portion of time within which to limit their detail of transactions, or in whatever order different authors occur to our study, the knowledge we have of the general course of ages, and to what part of universal history every particular period belongs, will preserve all our acquisitions uncon- fused, and enable us to digest our whole treasure of read- ing under those heads and divisions, to which each part properly refers. Nor is this an advantage to be lightly accounted of, inasmuch as men, according to their diffe* rent views and aims in life, find it their interest some- times to apply themselves more particularly to one part of hbtory, and sometimes to another ; in which case nothing is more useful, than such a general view of things as shall enable them to connect and tie together those seve- ral parts of knowledge which interest or necessity has at different times added to their stock of learning. This ia so evident, that we need not enlarge upon it ; and there- fore, having now finished all we intended on this part, We shall here conclude the head of History and Chro- nology. 292 YOUNQ man's book of KNOWLEDOe. CHAPTER X. HISTORY OF ENGLAND. A Description of the Ancient State of Britain. The ancient state of England is but little known before the Romans were in possession of it ; but it appears that the first inhabitants were very barbarous and uncultivated. The Romans describe the Ancient Britons as a plain, simple, unlettered people, divided into a number of small and independent states, and each state governed by a chief magistrate, or king. The Druids were the only learned men among them. The inland inhabitants are represented as extremely numerous, living in huts or cottages, thatched with straw, and feeding large herds of cattle. They subsisted chiefly upon milk, fruits, and flesh procured by the chase j what clothing they had, usually consisted of skins of animals, but a great part of their bodies, their legs and thighs, arms and shoulders, were naked, and painted of divers colours, and their hair hung down their backs. The dress of savage nations is every where almost the same. Their forces consisted chiefly of infantry ; but they had a considerable quantity of cavalry, which they could bring into the field upon extraordinary occasions. They likewise used chariots in battle, which they managed with great dexterity ; being armed with scythes, fastened to the end of the axle-trees, inflicting terrible wounds, and spreading terror and devastation wheresoever they drove : the chieftains managed the reins, while their de- pendents fought from the chariot. The religion of the ancient Britons was one of the most considerable parts of their government ; and the Druids, who were priests or ministers of the most distinguished order, were the guardians of it, and had the management both of justice and religious rites ; these likewise exer- cised an unlimited influence over the rude multitude, who revered them as beings more than mortal. They pos- sessed the right of making laws, and of explaining and HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 293 putting them in execution. They were considered as the interpreters of the gods ; and the austerity of their manners, the simplicity of their lives, with the honours of their birth, joined to those of their functions, procured them the highest veneration among the people. They chiefly resided in groves of oak, where they celebrated their solemnities ; and they were exempted from all taxes, and military services, as their persons were reverenced and held sacred. The rqjigious principles of the Druids are thought to have been similar to the Magi of Persia, and the Chal- deans of Assyria ; therefore, to have been derived from the same original. Their religious tenets teemed with the grossest superstitions. They inculcated the Pytha- gorean doctrine of transmigration of souls into other bo- dies, as well as many other strange things, which are now but very imperfectly known ; as they never suffered their learning to be committed to writing, that the vulgar should not become acquainted with it. \ On solemn occasions, they sacrificed human victims, which they burnt, in large wicker idols or images, made of osiers, and filled with living men ; they then set fire to the images, and burnt these miserable creatures, as an offering to their deities. There were two classes of men among the Druids, ■which were highly respected; the one called bards, to which were intrusted the education of youth, and whose business it was likewise to compose verses in commemo- ration of their heroes, and other eminent persons, and to furnish songs upon public occasions, which they sung to the sound of harps ; the other had the name of prophets, who regulated all public affairs, directed and put in order all public sacrifices and religious ceremonies, and foretold future events. They were under a principal, elected by themselves, called the Arch-Druid ; in whom was invested supreme authority. The Druids being the national preceptors, it is very natural to suppose that the inhabitants took a tincture from the discipline of their teachers, as their superstition continued, and prevailed long after the introduction of Christianity. Several circles of stones are to be seen in different parts of the kingdom, -"vhich go by the name of Druid Temples 24* 294 TouNG man's book of knowledge. of which Stone-henge, in Wiltshire, is the most remark- able. Abury, in the same county, was also a signal mo- nument of this kind ; and RoUright, in Oxfordshire, and various other remains of these temples are still in exist- ence in various parts of the kingdom. Its Invasion hy the Romans, ^c The Britaius had long remained in this rude and m- dependent state, when Csesar, having over-run Gaul (since called France) with his victories, remained there inactive wi'th a powerful army. Being willing still far- ther to extend his fame, he determined upon the conquest of South Britain : a country that seemed to promise an easy triumph, as he had previously gained every requi- site intelligence from the masters of trading vessels, who brought tin and a number of other commodities from this country to Gaul. He landed, after a sharp conflict, at Deal, eight miles from Dover; (54 years before Christ) and soon obliged the Britons to submit to the Roman arms. They were compelled to accept of Caesar's terms of peace, and agreed to deliver up hostages, as a token of their submission to the Roman republic. As soon as the inhabitants of the whole country heard of the sudden invasion and compulsive truce, they brought together such a powerful force, that Csesar was repulsed, and obliged to retreat to his ships, and set sail for Gaul ; but in the following year he returned with a more formi- dable fleet and army, landed near the same place as before, and encamped on Barham Downs. Several bat- tles were fought with various successes, till at length Cassar became victorious, and compelled the Britons to complete their stipulated treaty ; and hostages were given for the due performance of it. In the reign of Vespasian, successor to Nero, the fa- mous Julius Agricola, being appointed governor of Bri- tain, in the space of a few months reduced the whole island to subjection ; and it continued to be a Roman province from that era, A.D. 79, to the year 410, when the Romans were obliged to withdraw all their forces to &ISTORT OF ENGLAND. 295 repel the Goths, who had begun to desolate the Roman empire. It was once more left to its ancient and simple inhabitants. For some time after the Romans left it, Britain was in a state of anarchy. The Scots and Plots ravaged the northern boundaries with impunity. At length, advanc- ing farther, Vortigern was elected governor of South Britain, but made responsible for his conduct to the ma- gistrates of every county. He obtained the consent of the other states to in vile, a body of Saxons, a warlike people of Germany, to his assistance. Hengist and Horsa, brothers, we're the leaders of the Saxons, who landed on the Isle of Thanet, in Kent, A.D. 449 ; and Vortigern gave his daughter in marriage to Hengist, with the county of Kent as a dowry. Hengist and Horsa assisted Vortigern in driving back the Scots and Picts to their own country of North Britain ; they then sent for reinforcements from the continent, threw off the mask, and instead of remaining as allies, in a short time be- came conquerors of one province after another, till at length they became masters of the whole, and established the heptarchy, or the division of South Britain into seven kingdoms, which were in the following order : 1. The kingdom of Kent, contained the county of Kent, which was founded by Hengist, 455, and ended 823. 2. The kingdom of South Saxons contained the counties of Sussex and Surry : this kingdom was found- ed by Ella, 491, and ended in 686. 3. The kingdom of the West Saxons contained the counties of Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, Somerset, Wilts, Hants, and Berks : this kingdom was founded by Cerdic, 519, and ended 828. 4. The kingdom of East Saxons contained the counties of Essex, with part of Hertfordshire, and Middlesex : this kingdom was founded by Erchenwin, 527, and ended 827. 5. The kingdom of Northumberland contained Yorkshire, Durham, Lancashire, Westmoreland, Cum- berland, and Northumberland, and a part of Scotland to the Frith of Forth : this kingdom was founded by Ida, 547, and ended 827. 6. The kingdom of the East An- gles contained the counties of Suffolk, Norfolk, Cam- bridge, and the Isle of Ely : this kingdom was founded by Ufla, 575, and ended 792. 7. The kingdom of Met- 296 TOUNO man's book of knowledgb. cia contained the counties of Huntingdon, Rutland, Lin- coln, Northampton, Leicester, Derby, Nottingham, Ox- ford, Chester, Salop, Gloucester, Worcester, Staflbrd, Warwick, Buckingham, Bedford, and Hertford: this kingdom was founded by Creda, 682, and ended 827. The sovereigns of the seven kingdoms, which had been more than a cent ary in forming, made war upon each other at different times, and weakened each others power so much, that in course of time they brought on a dissolution of the heptarchy. Egbert, of the race of Cerdic, founder of the kingdom of the West Saxons, the heptarchy had been reduced to five kingdoms, of which his own was the most consider- able ; and the remaining kingdoms were either defeated or surrendered to him without opposition. As this totally put an end to the heptarchy, so it laid the foundation of the English monarchy. England, at different periods, has been under the sove- reignty of the Britons, the Romans, the Saxons, or An- gles, (from whom it derived its names) the Danes, and the Normans. Egbert, the first monarch of England, of the Saxon line, ordered the South part of Britain to be called Eng- land, and took the title of the King of England : he reigned from 828 to 838. Ethelwolf, the eldest son of Egbert, succeeded his fa- ther in the year 838, and reigned till 857. Ethelbald, the eldest son of Ethelwolf, succeeded his father, jointly with his brother Ethelbert, in the year 857, and reigned till 860. Ethelbert, the second son of Ethelwolf, succeeded his brother Ethelbald, as sole monarch of England, in the year 860, and reigned till 866. Ethelred, the third son of Ethelwolf, succeeded his brother Ethelbert, in the year 866, and reigned till 872. Alfred, the fourth son of Ethelwolf, succeeded his bro- ther Ethelred, in the year 872, and died on the 28th of October, 900, in the 28th year of his reign, and was buried at Winchester. It was Alfred that framed an excellent code of laws for the security of his subjects ; which were the groundwork of the present : be divided the kingdom into shires^ ot HISTORY OF ENOLANO. 297 eounties, the counties into hundreds, and the hundreds into tithings. King Alfred knew too well the value of time to lose any part of it in trifling- pursuits, but to make the best of every moment: when he was not engaged iu war, of which he had his share, for it is said he fought fifty-six pitched battles with the Danes, he set apart eight hours every day for acts of devotion, eight hours to public affairs, and eight hours to sleep, study, and necessary re- freshment. As clocks and hour-glasses were not known in England, he measured the time by means of wax candles, marked with circular lines of divers colours, which served as so many hour lines ; and to cause them to bum steadily he invented horn lanihorns, which were made of pieces of horn scraped thin, and fixed in frames of wood to defend the candles from the wind. Thus lanthoms were the invention of a king. Edward the Elder, the eldest son of Alfred, succeeded his father in the year 900, and reigned till 925. Athelstan, the eldest son of Edward, succeeded his father in the year 925, and reigned till 941. Edmund I. second son of Edward the elder, succeeded his brother Athelstan, in the year 941, and reigned till 948. Edred, the next son of Edward the elder, succeeded his brother Edmund, in the year 948, and reigned till 955. Edwy, the eldest son of Edmund, succeeded his uncle Edred, in the year 955, and reigned till 959. Edgar, the second son of Edmund, succeeded his bro- ther Edwy, in the year 959, and reigned till 979. Edward the Martyr, the eldest son of Edgar, succeeded his father in the year 975, and reigned till 979. Ethelred II. the second son of Edgar, succeeded his half-brother, Edward the Martyr, in the year 979, and reigned till 1016, nearly 37 years. Edmund II. sumamed Ironside, son of Ethelred, suc- ceeded his father, in the year 1016, and reigned only till 1017, having been murdered at Oxford by two of his chamberlains. He left -two sons and two daughters ; from the descendants of one of whom, by marriage with Mal- colm III. king of Scotland, bis present Majesty Wil- 298 YOUNO man's book of knowledge. liam IV. is descended in a direct line. James VI. of Scotland, I. of England, whom Queen Elizabeth nomi- nated her successor, as being her nearest relation, was a descendant of Malcolm. Canute, son of Sweyn, of the Danish line, succeeded Edmund ; though Sweyn had been proclaimed Mng, in the reign of Ethelred II. by the Danes residing in Eng- land, amd the English who were disloyal to Ethelred ; but as the latter was not deposed, therefore Sweyn is not placed in the list of the kings of England. Canute reigned from the year 1017 to 1035 : he made an alliance with Normandy, and married Emma, Ethelred's widow. He died at Shaftesbury in the 19th year of his reign. Harold I. son of Canute by Alfwin, his first wife, suc- ceeded his father in the year 1035, and reigned till 1039, Hardioanute, son of Canute by Glueen Emma, the widow of Ethelred II. succeeded his half-brother, Harold I, in the year 1039, and reigned till 1041, and died of a plethory at Lambeth. Edward the Confessor, youngest son of Ethelred II. married Editha, daughter of Godwin, Earl of Kent. He was the first king of England that touched for the dis- ease, now called the king's-evil, which was before prac- tised by the French kings. He succeeded Hardicanute in the year 1041, and reigned till 1065. Edward col- lected the laws made by his predecessors, viz. those of the Danes and Saxons, into one code (begun by Alfred,) and called the common law of England. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, which he rebuilt ; and he was considered as a saint by the church, which caused his bones to be enshrined in gold, and set with jewels, in the year 1206. William, Duke of Normandy, paid a visit to Edward in England in 1051 ; and it is probable he then promised to appoint him his successor, (Edward dying without issue) as he detested Harold, who was the son of Godwin, though he had married his sister. Harold II. son of Godwin, Earl of Kent, succeeded Edward the Confessor, in the year 1065 ; but William, Duke of Normandy, made a claim to the crown as his right, it being bequeathed to him by Edward ; and Ha- rold had made an oath to him, when on a visit in Nor- mandy, to relinquish his own pretensions in his favour. HISTORY OF ENGLAMD. 299 William sent ambassadors to Harold to summon him to resign his crown ; but Harold returned him for answer, that he was able to defend his rights against any one who should dispute them with him. This caused Wil- liam to fit out a strong fleet and reinforce his army ; with which he crossed the channel, and landed at Pavensey in Sussex, on the 29th of September, 1066, and soon after, viz. on the 14th of October, came to an engagement with Harold at Hastings, and defeated his army. Harold was killed upon the spot ; and a great many of his sol- diers were slain in that memorable battle between the English and the Normans. William the CoNftUEROR. — Reigned from 1066 to 1087. William was the natural son of Robert VI. Duke of Normandy. Harold being slain in battle, William marched to London, where he claimed the crown by the testament of King Edward the Confessor. On his way he was met by a large body of the men of Kent, each with a bough of a free in his hand. This army was headed by Stigard, the Archbishop, who made a speech to the Conqueror, in which he boldly demanded the pre- servation of their liberties, and let him know that they were resolved rather to die than to part with their laws and liberty. William thought proper to grant their demands, and suffered them to retain their ancient customs. Upon his coronation, he was sworn to govern by the laws of the realm ; and though he introduced some new forms, yet he preserved the trials by juries. He insti- tuted the courts of chancery and exchequer, but disarmed his English subjects, and forbid their having any light in their houses after eight o'clock at night, when a bell was rung, called Curfew, or cover fire, at the sound of which all were obliged to put out their fires and candles. He obliged the Scots to preserve the peace they had broken, compelled the Welsh to pay him tribute, refused himself to pay homage to the Pope, built the Tower of London, and bad all public acts made in the Norman tongue, 300 vouNG man's book of knowledge. He caused all England to be surveyed, and the men numbered, in a work called Doomsday-book, which is still in being. To curb the insolence of the French, who Jiad invaded Normandy, and after that to reduce his son Robert, who appeared there in arms against him, he carried over with him an English army, and left his own troops at home. William, in a general engagement, had like to have been killed by his son ; but Robert, when he found that he was engaged with his father, dutifully submitted to him, though he was victorious. William invaded France, and taking Mantes, in Au- gust 1087, he ordered it to be reduced to ashes; but ap- proached so near the flames, that the heat of the fire, together with the warmth of the season, threw him into a fever, which being increased by a fall from his horse, he died in a village near Roan, in the 61st year of his age, after a reign of 26 years in Normandy, and 21 in Eng- gland, and was buried at Caen. In this reign, Richard, the King's second son, was killed by a stag in the New Forest. There was a great fire in London, which consumed St. Paul's ; and an earthquake, which happened on a Christmas Day. William II. — From, 1087 to 1100. William the Second, son of William the Conqueror, who was from the colour of his hair surnamed Rufus, or Red, succeeded ; and at the same time his brother Robert succeeded to the duchy of Normandy. Robert resolved to assert his right to the crown of England, and several of the Norman nobility espoused his cause ; but William put an end to the rebellion, by defeating a body of troops in Kent, and soon after obliged his brother to conclude a peace. The two brothers then made war on their young- er brother, Henry, whom they besieged in Mount St. Michael ; where William, one morning riding out unat- tended, fell in with a party of Henry^s soldiers, and en- deavoured to force his way through them, but was dis- mounted, and a soldier was going to dispatch him, when he cried out, " Hold, fellow, I am the King of England.' HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 301 On this the man, dropping his sword, raised the monarch from the ground, and received from him the honour of knighthood. The brothers were soon reconciled; and Wiiham turned his arms against Scotland, and defeated the army of their King, Malcolm. Soon after, Robert de Mowbray, finding that the king had neglected to re- ward his services, joined with several other noblemen to set the crown on the head of Stephen, grandson to Wil- liam the Conqueror; upon which the King marched into Yorkshire, reduced Bamborough Castle, took Mowbray prisoner, and put an end to the rebellion. At length, as William was hunting in the New Forest, he was slain with an arrow shot by Walter Tynell, hb particular favorite, who, aiming at a deer, struck the King full in the breast ; and he immediately expired, on the 2d of August, 1 100, aged 44, after a reign of 13 years, and was conveyed to Winchester in a collier's cart. Henkt I.—Ftok 1100 io 1135. This prince, the youngest son of William the Con- queror, was, on account of his great learning, sumamed Beauclerc. He was born at Selby, in Yorkshire, in 1 070 ; and the English, looking upon him as their natural prince, raised him to the throne in 1 100, though his eldest brother Robert was living, but he was engaged in the Holy Land. Henry had before shown himself a politic and brave prince. He was no sooner seated on the throne, than he began to amend the laws, and to abolish some abuses in the church. About this time, Robert returning jrom Jerusalem, Henry endeavoured to secure himself on the throne by marrying the Princess Matilda, daughter to Malcolm, King of Scotland. Duke Robert, however, being determined to revive his claim, landed at Portsmouth in 1102; but a treaty was proposed to save the effusion of blood ; and it was agreed that Henry should retain his kingdom, relinquish to Ro- bert the possession of Normandy, and pay him 3000 marks a year. Robert afterwards, being disturbed by an insurrection, and having mortgaged all Normandy, ex- cept the city of Roan, to pay his debts, applied to his 25 302 TouNG man's book op knowledge. brother for assistance ; on which Henry levied an army, passed into Normandy, seized several cities, and, on his return to England, was followed by his brother as a sup- pliant to a conqueror for mercy, but Henry was deaf to all his entreaties ; on which Robert returned, and obtain- ed the assistance of Francg, and some of the neighbour- ing princes ; but Henry, going with an army to Nor- mandy, totallj' defeated the allies, took the Duke himself prisoner, seized upon his dominions, and confined him in Cardiff Castle, Wales. Some time after, Henry's only son, William, and the Countess of Perche, his natural daughter, in their passage by sea from Harfleur to Eng- land, were drowned ; which gave Henry deep affliction. His brother Robert, after a confinement of 27 years, died in prison, and his death was soon followed by that of Henry. He died on the 1st of December, 1135, in the 68th year of his age, and was buried at Reading. The Empress Maud was his only legitimate child then living, though he had twelve natural children. Henry was very learned, and had so great a regard for the sciences, that he built a palace at Oxford, whither he often retired. In his reign, Winchester, Gloucester, and Worcester were burnt ; the Thames, Medway, and Trent were almost dried up. In the 33d year of his reign, London was burnt from Westcheap to Aldgate. Stephen. — Trom 1135 to 1154. The Norman government, which had subsisted sixty- nine years in England, was now extinct. The Empress Maud, or Matilda, succeeded her father William in his duchy of Normandy ; but though her right to the crown of England had been recognised in parliament, Stephen, Earl of Bologne, the third son of the Earl of Blois, by Adela, daughter to William the Conqueror, got posses- sion of the throne, and was crowned on the 22d of De- cember, 1135. Stephen revived the favourite laws of Edward the Confessor. In this reign, the insolence of the clergy obliged Stephen to seize the castles belonging to the Bishops of Salisbury, Lincoln, and Ely. The spirit of rebellion upon this occasion prevailed, and the HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 303 Empress Maud seized the opportunity of assertiog in person, a right to the crown. The King besieged the Empress in Wallingford, pursued her to Lincoln, and gave battle to the Earl of Gloucester before that city, when the King was taken prisoner ; before which he had broken his battle-axe and sword, and was knocked down on his knees with a stone. He was then confined in irons in Windsor Castle. Maud was now acknowledged sovereign, but behaved with great haughtiness. Sang Stephen's consort humbly entreated her to set her husband at liberty, promising that he should resign his crown, and end his days in a monastery ; but she dismissed her with such contempt, that the late queen, recovering resolution, raised a large body of forces ; and JVfaud refusing to mitigate the seve- rity of the Norman laws, a revolt ensued, and the king was set at liberty. All the adherents to Maud were at length obliged to retire to Normandy: however, the young Prince ^enry, her son, obtaining assistance from France, returns to England ; but when both princes were preparing for battle, a truce was eigreed on, and it was stipulated that the King should enjoy the crown during life, and that after his decease Henry should suc- ceed to the throne. Stephen died on the 25th of October, at Canterbury, in the 50th year of his age, and in the 19 th of his reign, and was buried in the abbey of Fever- sham, in Kent. In this reign there was a great fire in London ; the city of York was burnt to the ground ; Rochester was also burnt to the ground. Henry IL— From 1154 to 1189. Henry Plantagenet, the son of the Empress Maud, by Geofiirey, Earl of Anjou, was crowned in 1154, in the 23d year of his age. In 1159, Henry concluded a mar- riage between his eldest son and Margaret, the daughter of The French King, though the young prince was only five years of sige, and the princess but six months old. The Duke of Brittany also gave his daughter Constance 804 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. in marriage to Geoffrey, another of Henry's sons, then in his cradle. Henry was disturbed at home by the arrogance of Thomas Becket, whom he had raised from a mean de- gree to the see of Canterbury, and the dignity of high chancellor. The dispute ran so high, that the archbishop was obliged to fly the kingdom. The affair, however, being at length determined, Becket returned, and raised such disturbances, that four knights, thinking to please the King, murdered him in his cathedral of Canterbury. This prelate was afterwards honored with the title of a martyr, and canonized by the title of St. Thomas of Canterbury. Henry sailed with a numerous fleet to Ireland, and landing at Waterford on the 18th of October, 1172, all the Irish princes swore allegiance fo him ; so that he di- vided a great part of the country among the English nobles, &c. who attended him in the expedition ; from whom sprung the principal families now in Ireland. The same year, the pope's legate prevailed on the king to do penance, by going barefoot three miles to Backet's shrine ; and to be scourged by the Augustine monks, who gave him fourscore lashes on the naked back ! 1 ! Henry met with great vexation in his own family; Eleanor, his queen, being jealous of Rosamond, the Lord CliflFord's daughter, found means to dispatch her by poi- son ; and the young princes, his sons, raised a great re- bellion, in conjunction with the King of Scotland, whom Henry took prisoner, but restored the young princes to favour, and pardoned all the revolters ; obliging the King of Scotland to pay him homage for his kingdom. Henry was so mortified at the disobedience of his sons, that through grief he fell sick at Chinon, in Touraine, and, perceiving his end draw near, gave orders for his being carried into the church, where he expired before the altar, on the 6th of July, 1 189, in the 67th year of his age, and the 35th of his reign. He was stripped by his domestics, and left quite naked in the church; but was afterwards buried at Fonteveraud, in Anjou. In his reign, lions were first kept in the Tower of Lon- don ; London Bridge was rebuilt with timber ; there was HISTOBT OF ENGLAND 306 an earthquake, by which the church of Lincoln, and several others were destroyed. Richard I. — Trom 1189 to 1199. Richard, the eldest son of Henry II. who was from his bravery sumamed Coeur de Lion, or Lion-hearted, was 32 years of age when his father died. He was crowned in Westminster Abbey on the 3d of September, 1189 ; at which time the Jews of London flocking to make presents to him, the mob robbed and murdered all they met with. At York, 600 Jews, besides women and children, shut themselves up in the castle, and there died by their own hands, rather than submit to their persecutions. Richard had no sooner ascended the throne, than he went to the Holy War, in conjunction with Philip, King of France. Richard, being driven by contrary winds to the isle of Cyprus, landed his troops there, and took Isaac, the King of that island, and his daughter, prison- ers ; conquered the whole country, was made King, and afterwards transferred his right to that island to Guy Lusignan, titular king of Jerusalem, in exchange for that empty title. In the absence of Richard, which lasted four years, Prince John, his brother, usurped the sovereign authority ; but the king soon suppressed his brother's party, levied a numerous army, and invaded France ; and at the battle of Blois, Richard took all the archives of the French kingdom. After which he was preparing to return to England, when a gentleman of Limosin, having dis- covered a treasure upon his estate, the King claimed it as sovereign of Guienne : the gentleman took shelter in the castle of Chaluz, which the King besieged ; in recon- noitring the walls, he received a wound, of which he died, on the 6th of April, 1 190, aged 42, after a reign of nine years and nine months. The castle being taken before the king died, he ordered all the garrison to be hanged, but pardoned the man who wounded him. He appointed, by his will, his brother John to succeed him in all his dominions. 25» 306 vouNG man's book of knowledge. John.— froOT 1199 to 1216. John, surnamed Lackland, the brother of Richard, as- cended the throne in 1199. Though Arthur, Duke of Brittany, son of Geoffrey, the late king's brother, had the hereditary right ; yet John was elected King, on con- dition that he should restore and establish the rights of the people. He was then 32 years of age ; and having seized the Duchy of Normandy, he left Arthur only the possession of some of the provinces enjoyed by the Eng- lish in France. John had several contests with the Pope, who had ex- communicated him, and absolved the people of England from their oath of allegiance, and now sent Pandulph, his nuncio, into England, who offered him the Pope's protection, on condition of his taking an oath to obey the pontiff in all things, and resign the crown into the hands of the nuncio. To this John consented, repaired to Dover church, and in the presence of the people took off his crown, disrobed himself of all the ensigns of royalty, and laid them at the feet of the nuncio, who was seated on a throne : after which he signed a charter, whereby he re- signed the kingdom of England, and the lordship of Ireland to the Holy See, and bound himself ae a vassal to pay 700 marks annually for England, and 300 for Ireland, and then did homage to the Pope in the person of his nuncio, who kept the crown and sceptre five days in his possession. The English barons, fired with indignation at this meanness, had recourse to arms, and demanded a re-esta- blishment of the laws of Edward the Confessor, and a renewal of the charter of Henry the First ; which being refused by the King, they elected Robert Fitzwalter for their general, entered London, and besieged him in the Tower. The King complied, when he could no longer resist, and agreed to meet the barons between Staines and Windsor, and there granted whatever they desired ; and hence arose the famous charter of liberties, called Magna Charta, which he was obliged to sign, and also the char- ter of the Liberties of the Forest, which have been since BISTORT OF ENGLAND. 307 esteemed the foundation of the English liberties. The King, however, though he had ratified these charters with a solemn oath, brought over an army from Flanders, and ravaged the whole kingdom : upon this the barons applied for assistance from the King of France, promising the crown to his son Lewis, if he freed them from John's tyranny. Lewis soon came to their assistance, landed at Sandwich, and took Rochester ; while John retired to Winchester, having prevailed on the Pope to excommu- nicate both the French King and the English barons ; but being deserted by some of his mercenaries, the Dau- phin besieged Dover, while the barons invested Windsor. At length grief and fatigue threw the King into a fever. "He died on the 18th of October, 1216, in the 51st year of his age, and the 17th of his reign. In this reign London Bridge, which was before of wood, was built entirely of stone. Henky III.— From 1216 to 1272. Henry of Winchester was but 12 years of age, when the Earl of Pembroke had him crowned at Gloucester, October 28, 1216 ; and the legate caused him to do ho- mage to the Holy See. Many of the barons who had sworn allegiance to the Dauphin joined with Heiu'y, and the Pope renewed his excommunication against Lewis : after this a truce was concluded, and prolonged till Eas- ter ; soon after which the French laid siege to Lincoln castle, but being unsuccessful in that and some other attempts, Lewis agreed to return home, and to restore the English dominions in France. Henry began his majority with exacting large sums, and annulling the two sacred charters granted by his father. He landed in Brittany with a numerous army, and then spending his time with diversions, shamefully returned, after he had spent all his treasure. He after- wards renewed the war, in which he lost all Poictou, and then concluded a truce with Lewis for five years, to purchase which Henry consented to pay him 5000i. annually. The King met with many mortifications from his par- 308 youNG man's book of knowledge. liament and people, who at length obliged him to renew the two charters, which was done in Westminster-hall, in the following manner, viz. the peers being assembled in the presence of the King, each holding a lighted taper, the archbishop of Canterbury denounced a terrible curse against those who should violate the laws, or alter the constitution of the kingdom ; then the charter was read aloud, and confirmed by the King, who all this while kept his hand upon his breast ; after which every one threw his taper on the ground to raise a great smoke, and wished that those who violated the charters might smoke in hell. After which, the parliament granted him a sub- sidy for suppressing an insurrection in Guienne. He soon reduced that province, and returned to England,- where he renewed his exactions. Prince Richard, Hen- ry's brother, being elected King of the Romans, took the immense sum of 700,000/. into Germany to support his election ; while the King amassed 950,000 marks for an expedition to the Two Sicilies, which were offered him by the Pope, though the crown belonged to Conradin, the Emperor Conradin's son. In short, the people were grievously oppressed ; and the barons, finding that Henry could not be bound by the most solemn oaths, undertook to reform the government : accordingly commissioners were chosen by the King and the barons, and articles agreed on, which the King again broke. At last, they came to an open war, when a decisive battle was fought near Lewes, in Sussex, in which the King's army was defeated, and himself, Prince Edward, and the King of the Romans, taken prisoners ; but afterwards the Earls of Leicester and Gloucester quarrelling, the latter joined Prince Edward, who had escaped from his keepers, and, uniting their forces, marched against the Earl of Leices- ter, whom they defeated and slew. The King was set at liberty, but peace was not restored till some time after, when Prince Edward engaged in a crusade, and went to the Holy Land. Henry died at London, November 20, 1272, aged 65, in the 56th year of his reign, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. aiSTORt OF EifOLAKD. 309 Edward l.-^From 1272 to 1307. Edward, surnamed Longshanks, was aged 33 when his father died, and was crowned on his return from Pa- lestine, where, with only 10,000 Englishmen, he struck a general panic into the Saracens. He narrowly esca- ped being murdered there by an assassin, from whom he received a wound in his arm, which was given by a poisoned dagger ; and it is affirmed that he owed his life to the affection of Eleanor his wife, who was with him, and sucked the venom out of the wound. He arrived in England, with his faithful queen, on the 26th of July, 1274; and they were both crowned at Westminster, on the 19th of August following. He began his reign with a strict inquiry into the afiairs of his kingdom, &c. and confirmed the great charter. He then set about rectifying the coin, which had been so much adulterated by the Jews, and~caused 2S0 of them to be put to death. Edward, having defeated and killed Lewellyn, a petty King of Wales, who had revolted, afterwards summoned a parliament at Ruthen, where it was resolved that Wales should be inseparably united to England. But some' of the Welsh nobles telling the King that he would never peaceably enjoy their country till they were go- verned by a prince of their own nation, he sent for his queen, who was then pregnant, to lie in at Caernarvon, where she was brought to bed of a prince, whom the states of Wales acknowledged for their sovereign ; and since that time the eldest sons of the Kings of England, have borne the title of the Prince of Wales. Edward banished 15,000 Jews for usury and adulterating the cii'i. Soon after this, Glueen Eleanor died at Grantham, in Lincolnshire ; to whose memory the King erected a cross at every place where the corpse rested in the way to Westminster. Edward carried his arms into Scotland, where he took the three important places of Berwick, Dunbar, and E J inburgh. John Baliol, their King, who was supported by Edward, repaired to him in the most humble manner, renewed the oath of fealty, and put the whole kingdom 310 VOUNO man's book of KNO^L&DGfi. in his power. While Edward was in Flanders, endea» vouring to recover some dominions he had lost in France by treachery, William Wallace, the glory of Scotland, rose up in the defence of his country, and having sud- denly dispossessed the £^nglish of all the strong places they held, was declared regent of the kingdom ; on which Edward hastily returned from France, advanced into Scotland at the head of a powerful army, and defeated Wallace, who several years after was betrayed into the hands of the English, and sent to London, where Edward treated hiin with unpardonable severity, and made this great hero suiFer the death of a traitor. Edward thrice conquered Scotland, and at length vowed that he would destroy that kingdom from sea to sea ; but was seized with a dysentery, and died in the little town of Burgh, on the 7th of July, 1307, in the 68th year of his age, and the 35th of his reign. His body was interred in West- minster abbey. Edward was a head taller than the generality of men j his person was well made, strong, and handsome ; but his legs being rather too long, he was thence called Longshanks. His regard for the laws was so great, that he publicly imprisoned the Prince of Wales, his son, for breaking into the park of the bishop of Litchfield and Coventry. Edward II.— from 1307 to 132f. Edward of Caernarvon was twenty-three years of age when his father died. He recalled Prince Gaveston, whom his father had banished, and by his will enjoined him not to associate with ; and then married Isabella, the daughter of the French King ; and they were both crowned at Westminster, on the 24th of February, 1308. His ridiculous fondness for Gaveston created innume- rable disputes. At length, the barons had recourse to arms, and Gaveston was beheaded. Meanwhile the Scots gained three victories over the English, and made them" selves masters of every place in Scotland. King Edward now raised the two Spencers, father and SOD) to the summit of power ; but they were banished biSfOKT OF ENGLAND. 311 by the parliament. The King levied an army, took some castles from the barons, and recalled the Spencers, Edward afterwards invaded Scotland, but, wanting pro- visions, returned without striking a blow ; on which Bruce, King of Scotland, pursued him to York, destroyed 20,000 of the English, and then consented to a peace. The two Spencers incurred the general hatred ; and Queen Isabella fled to France with her son, whence tte nobility sent for her, and shej with a numerous army, marching towards London, the King fled into the West j but she still pursuing him, set sail for Ireland, but wa^ driven back into Wales. Hugh Spencer, the fathet, being taken, was, without a trial, hanged and quartered, and the King himself was sent prisoner to the dueeDj and the young Spencer was hanged. The Q,ueen now forgot every call of nature and duty, and was entirely governed by Mortimer, whom she took to her bed. King Edward was deposed, and the son proclaimed King ; they having obliged the old King to resign in the 43d year of his age, and the 20th of his reign ; after which he was treated with the greatest in- dignities, and at last cruelly murdered ; for some assas^ sins covered him with a feather-bed, and held him dowHi while others thrust a horn pipe up his body, through which they conveyed a red-hot iron, and burnt hia bowela to prevent any exiemal appearance of violence. Edward III.— froOT 1327 to 1377* Edward of Windsor, was crowned at the age of 14, On the 26th of January, 1327. Though the parliament appointed a regency, the Q,ueen and Roger Mortimer had the sole rule. By their influence, the young King re- nounced all his pretensions to Scotland, and gave his sister in marriage to David Bruce, King of the Scots; but afterwards becoming sensible of his error, he caused the Queen, his mother, to be confined for life, and Morti* mer. Earl of March, to be hanged at Tyburn. He then broke the truce with Scotland, and invaded that king' dom ; won four battles in a short time, and obliged King David to fly with his Queen into France, when he set 312 vouNG maM's book of knowledge. up Edward Baliol in his room. Edward how laid claim to France; for Charles, his mother's brother, dying, Philip of Valois had possessed himself of the kingdom, alleging the Salique law ; but Edward asserted that the Salique law, in excluding females from the succession, did not exclude their male issue, on which he grounded his title. His first campaign passed without bloodshed ; but he took the title of the King of France, and quartered his arms with the Jioiver de hbce, adding the motto, Dieu et mon droit, or, God and my right. In his second' attempt, he defeated the French fleet, destroyed or took 370 of their ships, and 30,000 men : then besieged Tournay ; but being called home to oppose the Scots, concluded a truce for one year with King Philip. The next campaign, he wasted all the country up to the walls of Paris, and obtained the glorious battle of Cressy, which was won by the Prince of Wales, who was then only sixteen. The French were defeated with incredible slaughter. The King of Bohemia also died in the field ; when his standard, on which were, in gold, three ostrich's feathers, with these words, Ich dien, that is, I serve, was brought to the Prince of Wales, who, in memory of that victory, bore the ostrich feathers in his coronet, with the same motto. In this battle the French lost eleven princes, and 30,000 common soldiers, a greater number than the whole army of the conquerors, whose loss was very inconsiderable. When the victory was over, the King tenderly embracing the Prince, " My gal- lant son," he said, "yod have nobly acquitted yourself, and well are you worthy of the kingdom." Six weeks after this, Edward's Glueen defeated the Scots, and took King David prisoner. These memorable battles were fought in 1346. Edward then laid siege to Calais, which he was obliged to reduce by famine, and then returned to England. He then sent gver his son, the Black Prince, who, after taking several towns, totally routed the French army, commanded by King John, who had succeeded Philip ; and, in this glorious battle, which was fought near Poictiers, took the King, many nobles, and a multitude of private men prisoners, though the French army was six times as numerous as the English. There wore at this time two Kings prisoners in Eng- atsTOR¥ OF ENGLAND. 313 snd ; the French King, who was lodged at the Savoy, which was then a palace ; and the King of Scotland, who was confined at Odibam, in Hampshire. They were both treated with great respect. The French King paid for his ransom 500,000^ and a considerable extent of country ; and the King of Scots was ransomed for 100,000 marks. The French King afterwards returned to England, and kept his court at the palace of the Sayo« where he died in 1363. A tedious war was afterwards carried on against the Black Prince by Charles, the French King, in which several battles were fought to the disadvantage of the English, who lost all they had so bravely conquered in France, except Calais, to which the death of the Black Prince greatly contributed. At length Edward, after having settled the succession, Was taken ill, and died at Richmond, in Surrey, on the 21st of June, 1377, in the 65th year of his age, and the 51st of his reign, and was buried in Westminster abbey. Edward the Black Prince has a monument in the cathe- dral of Canterbury. This Prince instituted the order of the garter, which is said to have had its rise from the Countess of Salisbury's dropping her garter at a ball, which the King taking up, and observing her in a confusion, presented it to her, say- ing, " Honi soil qui mal y pense" — Evil to him who evil thinks ; when, observing several of the nobles smile, he added. Many a man has laughed at the garter, who will think it a very great honour to wear such a one. HtcHARD II. — From 1307 to 1398. Hichard of Bourdeaux, the son of Edward the Black Prince, was but eleven years of age when he was crowned at Westminster, on the I6th of July, 1377. He was put under the tuition of his Uncles, John, Duke of Lancaster, and Edmund, Earl of Cambridge. In this reign, a poll- tax weis passed, at 12d. per head, on aU above the age of sixteen. This being levied with severity, caused an in- Eurrection in Kent and Essex ; at the head of which were Wat Tyler and Jack Straw. Tyler refusing to pay for 314 TfOUNG iMAN'a BOOK OF KNOWLBDGS. his daughter, alleging she was under the age specified iii the act, the collectpr used her with great indecency ; on which Tyler beat out his brains with a hammer ; then making known the occasion of the murder, he was soon joined by above 100,000 men, who advanced to London, cut off the heads of all the lords, gentlemen, and lawyers, they met with, and plundered and destroyed many houses, &c. The King himself was obliged to come to a conference with Wat Tyler in Smithfield, when Wil- liam Walworth, mayor of London, gave Tyler such a blow on the head with his sword, that he fell dead at his feet; soon after which they dispersed. The King knighted Mr. Walworth, and ordained that the mayor of London should ever after bear the title of Lord, and that the dagger should be added to the city arms, which was before a plain cross. The rebellion also extended into Norfolk and Suffolk, but it was soon suppressed ; and the King sent an army into Kent and Sussex, to punish the ringleaders, and Jack Straw, with about fifteen hundred of his followers, were hanged. The King's fondness for his favourites, Robert de Vere, Earl of (Oxford, whom he created Duke of Ireland, and Michael de la Pool, who was made Earl of Suffolk, raised such discontent, that the barons had twice recourse to arms, and at length obliged the King to take refuge ia the Tower, and afterwards forced him to resign the crown. Henry, Duke of Hereford, the son of John of Gaunt, was then declared King. Richard was removed to Pontefract castle, where Sir Pierce de Exton, with eight ruffians, in hopes of pleasing Henry, rushed in upon him ; when Richard, resolving to die like a man, wrested a pole-axe from one of them, and laid four of them dead at his feet ; but Exton, mounting on a chair behind him, gave him so violent a blow on the head with a club, that he fell down senseless, and thus died in the 33d year of his age, after a reign of 22 years. King Henry IV. ordered his body to be removed to Westminster abbey, and caused a monument to be erected to his memory, and to that of his dueen, in Edward the Confessor's chapel. In the fourth year of his reign, a mortality almost de-" aiSTORIr OF ENGLAND. 315 populated the north of Eagland ; in his sixth year, se* veral churches were thrown down by an earthquake ; in his twelfth year, there was a great plague and famine ; and in this reign guns first came into use. It is also worthy of remark, that peaked, high-toed shoes, fastened to the knees with silver chains, were in fashion about the middle of this King's reign ; and soon after side-saddles were used, and long gowns worn, which were introduced by the Queen, a Bohemian princess,' for, before that time, the English women rode astride like the men. Henry IV.— JVom 1399 to 1419. Henry IV. surnamed Bolingbroke, was raised to the throne as a reward for his past services, though Edmund Mortimer was presumptive heir to the crown, as being descended from the daughter of Lionel, Duke of Cla- rence, the third son of King Edward III. ; while Henry, Duke of Lancaster, was the son of John of Gaunt, the younger brother of Lionel, and the fourth son of Edward III. — Henry, Duke of Lancaster, was proclaimed King on the 30th of September, 1399, the very day on which Richard was deposed. The Dukes of Albemarle, Surrey, and Exeter, the Earls of Salisbury and Gloucester, the Bishop of Carlisle, and Sir Thomas Blount, being Richard's friends, formed a conspiracy in the year 1400, in order to assassinate Henry, and restore Richard to the throne ; but being discovered, and their whole scheme frustrated, they as- sembled an army of 40,000 men, and set up Maudlin, a priest, whose person resembled Richard's, to pretend that he was Richard himself: in this they also failed ; most of the leaders were taken and beheaded, and Maudlin w^as hanged at London ; and this conspiracy hastened the death of the late King, who was soon after basely murdered at Pontefract. Henry used great severity towards the Lollards, or the followers of Wickliffe; and had William Sawtree, a clergyman, burnt in London as a heretic. In 1402, Henry caused Roger Clarendon, the natural ion of Edward the Black Prince, and several others, to 316 YouNo man's book op knowledge. be put to death, for maintaining that Richard was alive. The same year he married Johanna of Navarre, widow of the Duke of Britanny. About this time the Scots invaded England, under the Earl of Douglas ; but were defeated at Hallidon-hill by the Earl of Northumberland, and his son, Henry Hot- spur, with the loss of about 10,000 men ; and in this victory several Earls, and many other officers, were made prisoners ; but the King ordering Northumberland to de- liver up the prisoners into his hands, the Earl was so ex* asperated, that he, with Henry Percy, surnamed Hotspur, his son, and other lords, agreed to crown Edmund Mor- timer, Earl of March, whom Glendour kept prisoner in Wales. The rebel army encamped near Shrewsbury, headed by Henry Hotspur, the Earl of Worcester, and the Scotch Earl of Douglas ; and the King marched directly thither, with 14,000 choice troops, headed by himself, the Prince of Wales, and the Scotch Earl of March ; and on the 22d of July, at a place afterwards called Battle-field, the King obtained so complete a vic- tory, that about 10,000 of the rebels were killed, among whom was the brave Hotspur, who fell by the hands of the Prince of Wales. In the year 1405 another conspiracy was raised, at the head of which was the Archbishop of York, the Earl of Northumberland, Thomas Mowbray, Earl Marshal, and other noblemen, who assembled a large body of troops at York, and published a manifesto, declaring the King a traitor, and that they were resolved to place Mortimer, the lawful heir, on the throne. But this rebellion was soon suppressed by the good policy of Ralph Nevil, Earl of Westmoreland. Henry died in the Jerusalem chamber at Westminster, on the 20th of March, 1413, in the 46th year of his age, and the 14th of his reign, and was interred in the cathe- dral at Canterbury. Henrv Y.—From 1413 to 1422. This Prince was the eldest son of Henry IV. and was born at Monmouth in 1388. In his youth he was led HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 317 into wild courses ; but in the midst of all his extravagan- cies, he gave a singular proof of his moderation, in suffer- ing himself to be led into prison, by order of the Lord Chief Justice, whom he struck in the execution of his office ; and this circumstance gave the people the great- est hope that he would soon change his conduct, nor ■were they disappointed. He succeeded to the throne at 25 years of age, and was crowned at Westminster on the 9th of April, 1413. The next year commissioners were appointed for adjusting the disputes between the crowns of England and France ; but Henry, seeing that nothing could be done by negociation, resblved to have recourse to arms ; when Henry Chichely, Archbishop of Canter- bury, advised him to lay claim to the whole kingdom of Fiance, as the heir and successor of Edward III. This ■war was approved by the parliament. He therefore demanded the crown of France as his right ; upon which, the Dauphin, in contempt, sent him a present of a ton of tennis balls, to let him know, that he thought him fitter for play than for war ; but Henry sent him word, that he ■would soon repay him with such balls as the strongest gates of Paris should not be rackets sufficient to rebound. Accordingly, in 1415, Henry embarked his army, amounting to 50,000 men, about the beginning of August, on board 1500 transport ships ; and landed at Havre-de- Grace, in Normandy, on the 21st of August, and imme- diately laid siege to Harfleur, which surrendered in five weeks. Soon after which, the French having assembled an army six times superior to the King's, they challenged him to fight ; and Henry accepted it, though the French army consisted of 150,000 men, and the English were reduced to 9000. The French therefore made rejoicings in their camp as if the English were already defeated, and even sent to Henry to know what he would give for his ransom ; to which he replied, that a few hours would show whose care it would be to make that provision. The English, though fatigued with their march, sick of a flux, and almost starved for want of food, were inspired by the example of their brave king, and resolved to con- quer or die. In this situation, Henry sent David Gam, a Welch captain, to reconnoitre the enemy, who bravely 26* 318 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. reported, that there were enow to be killed, enow to be taken prisoners, and enow to run OMoy. The King was encamped, October 25, 1415, on a plain near Aginoourt ; and having drawn up his small army into two lines (the first commanded by the Duke of York, and the second by himself) he disposed his few men to so much advantage, and behaved with such extraordinary conduct and courage, that, by the blessing of Divine Providence, whose assistance he publicly and solemnly implored before the action, by offering up prayers, and exhorting his troops to place all their trust in God, he gained a complete victory, after having been several times knocked down, and in the most imminent danger of losing his life. The English killed upwards of 1 0,000 men, and took more prisoners than they had men in the army ; but an alarm being given, that the French had plundered the English camp, and were returning to the fight, they were ordered to kill all their prisoners ; an order which their own self-preservation rendered neces- sary ; but the English soldiers had too much humanity to execute it; upon which a band of ruffians were em- ployed in this massacre. Henry publicly returned thanks to God, and acknow- ledged that his success was owing to the favour of Hea- ven. The loss of the English was no more than four hundred men. In 1417, the King, in order to carry on the war, mort- gaged his crown for 1 00,000 marks, and part of his jewels for 10,000/. He landed at Beville, in Normandy, on the 1st of August, with 25,000 men, reduced Caen, &c. ; and the next year all Normandy fell again to the English. On the 25th of May, 1420, a treaty was concluded at Troy between England and France; wherein it was agreed, that the crown of Francex should descend to the !^ng of England and his heirs, and that Henry should marry Catherine, the King of France's daughter ; which being performed, he returned to England with his queen, who was crowned the year following at Westminster. Henry, the next year, advanced into France with 30,000 men ; but while he was marching towards the river Loire, he was seized with a pleuretic fever, and was HISTORy OF ENGLAND. 319 carried to Vincennes, where he sent for his brother, the Duke of Bedford, &c. and recommended Bedford to take upon him the administration of affairs in France, and that the Duke of Gloucester might be protector of Eng- land ; and expired about two hours after, on the 31st of August, in the 35th year of his age, and the iOth of his reign. His bodj was carried to Calais, whence it was conveyed to England, and interred in Westminster abbey. This King was brave, prudent, magnanimous, and jaerciful ; and thoiigh he died in the flower of his age, few princes have left behind them such shining proofs ot every royal virtue. This reign was filled with too many glorious actions, to permit historians to record trifling circumstances. It is worthy of remark, however, that on Candlemas-dtiy, 1415, seven dolphins were seen playing in the river Thames, and four of them taken. Henry YI.— From 1442 to 1461. Henry of Windsor was only nine months old when his father died. This young prince was proclaimed King of England, and heir of France ; and his uncles, John^ Duke of Bedford, and Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, were resolved to maintain what his father had procured for him. But as Charles VI. died at Paris on the 20th of October, 1421, the face of affairs was soon changed in France. Henry was proclaimed King at Paris, and the Dauphin at Poictiers ; and several battles were fought, in which the English had generally the advantage. The Earl of Salisbury had invested Orleans, and when it was near being surrendered, a country girl, named Joan of Arc, who had been bred to the keeping of sheep, under- took to deliver France from the English. She bore the arms and habit of a man, headed the French, and, by her frequent and successful sallies, obliged the English to raise the siege ; then pursued and harassed them, retook several places, attacked and defeated the brave Lord Talbot, and took him prisoner. At length, after a num- ber o( astonishing exploits, this great heroine was taken at Compeigne, and burnt for a witch, by the Duke of Bedford's order. 320 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. At twelve years of age, King Henry was carried to France, and crowned at Paris ; but still the war conti- nued. The Duke of Burgundy, who had been in the English interest, joined with Charles, and Paris shook off its allegiance to Henry. The Duke of Bedford died about this time ; so that a truce was concluded, when King Henry's marriage with Margaret of Anjou. the daughter of the titular King of Sicily, contributed to complete his misfortunes. The Glueen determined to ruin the Duke of Gloucester, who was presumptive heir to the crown. He was seized, and, being closely confined, was the next day found dead in his bed, smothered by the Queen's order. Gloucester's death occasioned the Duke of York to lay claim to the crown. This Prince was descended from Lionel, Duke of Cla- rence, third son to King Edward III., and King Henry was descended from John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, the fourth son of the same monarch ; so that the right of primogeniture was plainly on the Duke's side. This reign was full of domestic broils. The Duke of York's interest gained ground, and his arms were at first successful against the King, over whom he gained a complete victory at St. Alban's, took the King prisoner, and conducted him to London ; and calling a parliament in Henry s name, was declared protector of the kingdom. The Gueen raised an army in the north, and the Duke of York advanced to meet her ; but his army being in- considerable, be was defeated and slain at Wakefield ; and his youngest son, the Earl of Rutland, not above twelve years old, was cruelly killed by Lord Clifford ; and the Earl of Salisbury was beheaded. Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, being thus dead, Edward, Earl of March, his eldest son, took his title, and asserted his claim to the crown with an army of 23,000 men, and, being victorious in several engagements, marched directly to London, obliged the Q,ueen to return into the north, and was unanimously acknowledged King. Thus ended the reign of Henry VL which had lasted 38 years and a half. HISTORY OF KNGLANO. 321 Edward IV.— from 1461 to 14S3. Edward came to the throne in the year 1461, and the 20th of his age. No sooner was he proclaimed King, than he pursued the Queen into the north \ and both armies meeting, a bloody battle was fought, in which 30,000 men were slain, and the Bang and Queen de- feated ; on which King Henry and Margaret fled with the young Prince to Edinburgh ; but Henry, returning into England soon after in disguise, was seized, and con- ducted on a wretched horse, with his legs tied to the stirrups, to the Tower. The Earl of Warwick had been the chief instrument in raising Edward to the throne ; but that Prince em- ploying him to negociate a marriage for him in France, and in the mean time marrying Elizabeth, the widow of Sir John Grey, the Earl was so exasperated, that he raised a rebellion, in which he twice defeated the King's forces, and afterwards took his Majesty prisoner, and confined him in Middlebam ceisUc, from whence he es- caped, and joining the Lord Hastings in Lancashire, returned to London ; when another battle ensued, and Warwick's army being defeated, he was obliged to fly into France. The Earl of AVarwick landed soon after at Dartmouth with a few troops, which he soon increased to 60,000 men ; upon which Edward also raised a nu- merous army at Nottingham ; but as his enemies were advancing, the cry of King Henry was raised in his camp, on which Edward fled into Flanders. Warwick then took Henry out of the Tower, and he was again acknowledged the lawful King of England. But Ed- ward afterwards returning to London, he was received with acclamations of joy, and Henry again was com- mitted to the Tower. Another battle was fought at Bamet, between King Edward and the Earl of Warwick, in which the great Earl of Warwick was slain, and 17,000 men. Some days after, the remainder of the Earl's army was assem- bled by the Lancastrians, and, being joined by other forces, wets beaded by the dueen; when Edward de- feated her at Tewkesbury, and took her prisoner, with 322 rouNG man'b book of knowledge. her son, Prince Edward, the Duke of Somerset, &c. The Prince, being carried to Edward's camp, was asked why he was so rash as to enter the kingdom in arms ; to which he boldly replying, that he came to recover his right, unjustly usurped, Edward struck him with his gauntlet on the mouth ; when the Dukes of Gloucester and Clarence, the Earl of Dorset, and the Lord Hastings, stabbed him with their daggers, and thus massacred an amiable prince in the ISth year of his age : and soon after King Henry was murdered in the Tower by the Duke of Gloucester, or, as others say, died with grief, in the 42d year of his age. Q,ueen Margaret, after being four years confined in the Tower, was ransomed by her father for 50,000 crowns. Edward caused his brother, the Duke of Clarence, to be drowned in a butt of sack. At length, King Edward was seized with a fever, or, according to others, with an apoplexy, and died at Westminster, on the 9th of April, 1483, in the 42d year of his age, and the 23d of his reign. King Edward had a curious monument in the new chapel in Windsor, founded by himself. Jane Shore, whom Edward had from her husband, was his favourite mistress, for which she was persecuted in the reign of Richard IH. and did public penance in St. Paul's church. Edward V. — Two Months and twelve Days of 1483. This young Prince was at Ludlow, when his father died, but, being sent for to London, was trepanned by his uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, and lodged in the Bishop of London's palace, where, on the 4th of May, 1483, he received the oaths of the principal nobility, and Glou- cester was made protector of the King and kingdom : he obliged the Q,ueen to deliver up to him the Duke of York also, and then sent them both to the Tower, under a pre- tence of preparing for the coronation ; the Tower at that time being a roj'al palace, from which the procession at coronations was usually made to Westminster. Mean- while the Duke of Gloucester, by the assistance of Staf- ford, Duke of Buckingham, Sir John Shaw, Lord Mayor of London, and Dr. Shaw, his brother, had his two ne- HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 323 phews, and even the late King, declared illegitimate, and himself acknowledged King' of England, pretending at the same time to accept the crown with reluctance; though, to produce this revolution, he had to put to death the Lord Hastings, who was strongly attached to the young King. As Lord Hastings was greatly beloved by the people, Gloucester pretended, that the ambition of Hastings had endangered the safety of the kingdom; though, in fact, he was arrested only on a trumped-up charge of sorcery. The dueen and Jane Shore were accused as his col- leagues, and Jane Shore was taken into custody, but was soon after released, on doing penance. Richard's first care was to despatch the young Prince ; and Sir Robert Brackenbury, lieutenant of the Tower, refusing to comply with his cruel designs, he, for one right only, gave the command of the Tower to Sir James Tyrrell, and he procured two villains, who, in the dead time of night, entered the chamber where the Princes lay, and smothered them in bed; after which, they were bu- ried under the stair-case, where their bones were disco- vered 191 years afterwards, and, by order of King Charles II., deposited in Westminster abbey, and a small monument erected to their memory in Henry the Se- venth's chapel. The tyrant Richard, his tool Buckingham, and the other murderers, were soon after overtaken by the arm of the Almighty. Richard III.— From 1483 to 1485. Richard, the brother of King Edward IV. and the uncle and murderer of King Edward V., was piroclaimed King on the 20th of June, 1483, but was not crowned till the 6th of July. He was now in the 32d year of his age, and, as he had waded to the throne through injus- tice and violence, he endeavoured to gain the favour of the nation by popular laws. However, though he had promised the duchy of Hereford to the Duke of Buck- ingham, his chief instrument, he refused to perform that promise. At this Buckingham being exasperated, left 824 the court, and entered into a confederacy with Henrj', Earl of Richmond, the next heir to the crown of the Lancaster race, who was still in Brittany, where his mother informed him of what had happened in England, «ind desired he would speedily land in Wales. Mean- while, the King suspected a conspiracy, and sent for Buckingham to court, who refused to obey the summons, immediately collected his forces in Wales, and began to march towards the western counties; but the Severn rising with a great inundation, he was unable to pass that river, and his army dispersed, and left him only with a single servant. In this melancholy situation he retired into Shropshire, and sheltered himself in the house of Ealph Bannister, who had been his servant, and received many favours from him, but the King offering 1000/. reward for the taking of him. Bannister villainously be- trayed his master, who was beheaded at Shrewsbury, without any legal process. The Earl of Richmond at length sailed for England, with forty ships and five hundred men, but his fleet being dispersed in a storm, he was obliged to return. Upon this Richard cruelly sacrificed all whom he suspected to favour the Earl, concluded an alliance with the Scots, and even corrupted the Duke of Brittan^s treasures to destroy Richmond, but he fortunately saved himself by escaping into France. As Henry had solemnly engaged to marry Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of Edward IV. Richard poisoned his own wife, and then endeavoured, without effect to pre- vail on the young princess his niece to accept him for her husband. Meanwhile Henry landed at Milford- Haven, with only 2000 men, immediately began his march towards Shrewsbury, and was joined by many of the nobilitj' with all the forces they could raise. At length both armies met at Bosworth, the King having 13,000 men, and the Earl only 5000. The engagement was hot and doubtful, till the Lord Stanley and his brother joined the Earl with fresh troops, when Richmond soon obtained the victory, in which King Richard lost his life ; and the crown being found in the field of battle was placed on Henry's head. Richard's body was after the battle found entirely naked, covered with blood and dirt, HISTORY OF Ef«GLANO- 325 and being thrown across a horse was oouveyed to Lei- cester, and interred without the least ceremony. Thus fell Richard on the 22d of August, 1406, in the 34th year of his age, and the third of his reign. He was, from his deformity, surnamed Crook-backed, and one of his arms was almost withered. He had a solid judg- ment, and was naturally brave. Richard left only a natural son, who, perceiving his father's fate, went to London, and put himself apprentice to a bricklayer, which business he occupied to his death. Henry VII.— from 1485 to 1602. Henry, having defeated King Richard, was crowned at Westminster, on the 30th of October, 1485, and the next year married the Lady Elizabeth, the eldest daugh- ter of King Edward IV. by which means the two houses of York and Lancaster became united. However, the house of York procured one Lambert Simnel, a young student at Oxford, to pretend that he was the son of the Duke of Clarence, brother to King Edward IV. but after being crowned King in several places he was defeated and taken prisoner: yet the King spared his life, made him turnspit in his kitchen, and afterwards his falconer. Soon after, Margaret, Dutchess of Burgundy, a prin- cess of the house of York, introduced another pretender, named Perkin Warbeck : he personated Richard, Duke of York, Edward the Fifth's brother, who was smothered with that prince in the Tower. This adventurer at- tempted to land in Kent with a few followers ; but seve- ral of his adherents being executed, he fled to Ireland, and from thence to Scotland, where he married the Earl of Huntiys daughter, and was twice sent with an army into England, by the King of Scotland ; but, being both times defeated, was obliged to retire into Cornwall, where he raised an army, with which he laid siege to Exeter ; but the King's forces advancing, he fled again ; when his wife being taken, a pension was assigned her, on account of her family and beauty. Perkin, some time after, surrendered himself, and was committed to the Tower, where he made his escape ; but was again taken, 27 326 FOUNG man's book op knowledge. and endeavouring to corrupt his keepers, was at length hanged. Henry also, for his own security, caused the Earl of Warwick, the Duke of Clarence's son, whom Simnel had personated, and who had been confined in the Tower from his infancy, to be beheaded. King Henry married his eldest son Arthur, to Catha- rine, the daughter of Ferdinand, King of Spain, and his daughter Margaret, to James, King of Scotland ; when England, being blessed with tranquility, he was con- tinually making use of new means to heap up riches for which he had no use : for this purpose, he employed Sir Richard Empson and Edmund Dudley, two lawyers, who caused many wealthy persons to be indicted for several crimes, and then obliged them to compound with the King ; by which, and other illegal and shameful op- pressions, the King amassed 1,800,000/. sterling, which was more than double the value in our present money. At length, Henry grew so absolute, that no man durst oppose him. But a little before his death, he ordered by his will, that his heirs should restore what his ofiicers and ministers had unjustly taken from his subjects. He died at Richmond, in Surry, on the 22d of April, 1509, in the 53d year of his age, and the 24th of his reign, and was interred in his own new chapel at Westminster. Both the chapel and his monument are exquisite pieces of workmanship. Henry exceeded the common stature, was straight- limbed, but slender, and had a handsome person. In the year 1487, he instituted the Star-chamber, under the pre- tence that the channels of justice were corrupted. He promoted commerce, and sent Sebastian Cabot to make new discoveries in America. In his 15th year was a great plague, of which 30,000 died in London. Henry VIII.— Fro w 1509 to 1547. Heney VIII. was born at Greenwich, on the 28th of June, 1491, and succeeded his father, Henry VII. on the 22d of April, 1509, in the the 18th year of his age. He redressed the grievances of the former reign, put Empson and Dudley to death, and wrote a book against Luther ; BISTORT OF ENGLAND. 327 on which the Pope conferred on him and his successors, the title of Defender of the Faiti. . Soon after his acces- sion, he passed over into France, and took Terouane, Toumay, and some other places. In the mean time. King James of Scotland, invaded England, but was de- feated at the famous battle of Flodden-field, when King James, many nobles, and 9000 common soldiers were slain. In this reign, Thomas Wolsey, the son of a butcher at Ipswich, from being a common priest, was at length raised to the See of York, the dignity of a Cardinal, and the post of Lord High Chcincellor of England. His pride increased with his riches, and he caused the Duke of Buckingham to be beheaded for sa3dng, That if the King died without heirs, he thought he had a right to the throne; but the real cause was his affronting the Cardinal, by pouring water into his shoes, when he had the impudence to dip his hands in the bason while the Duke held it to the king to wash. Cardinal "^olsey afterwards lost the favour of the king, and was arrested for high treason ; this threw him into a fit of illness, of which he died. Bang Henry having conceived a passion for Anna BuUen, caused his Q,ueen, Catherine to be divorced, under pre- tence of her having been first married to his brother Ar- thur; and married Anna Bullen, Nov. 14, 1532, and she was crowned the first of July following. By the former he had Mary, and by the latter, Elizabeth. The Pope now threatening to excommunicate Henry, both he and the Parliament were so exasperated, that in 1534, they passed an act, abolishing the Papal authority in England, The Parliament now acknowledged the King supreme head of the church ; for refusing to acknowledge which. Bishop Fisher, Sir Thomas Moore, and others lost their heads. Henry was then excommunicated, and his subjects absolved from their allegiance; upon which the king suppressed their monasteries, and seized their revenues, &c. Q,ueen Anna Bullen lived with the king only tUl she had borne the Princess Elizabeth. Soon after -which, she was cruelly beheaded, with some of her relations and domestics, on a charge of incontinency ; of which there 328 vouNG man's book of knowledge. is the greatest reason to believe her innocent. Henry then married Jane Seymour, who died in child-bed of Prince Edward ; when it being impossible to save both, he was asked which should be spared, the mother or the child; he replied. That he could easily procure another wife, but was not sure that he should have another son. He next married Anna, of Cleves, whom he soon divorced, and then beheaded ; as he did Thomas, Lord Cromwell for promoting that match. His fifth wife, Catharine Howard, was, like Anna Bullen, beheaded for adultery; and Deerham, Madnock, and Culpepper, confessing that they had often lain with her, were all three beheaded. But Catharine Parr, his last wife, survived him. Henry died in the night between the 28th and 29th of January,'1547, in the 57th year of his age, and 38th of his reign, and was interred at Windsor. Edward Vl.—From 1547 te 1553 * Edward, the only son of King Henry VHI. and Jane Seymour, ascended the throne at nine years of age, being well skilled in the Latin and French tongues, and had acquired some knowledge of the Greek, Italian, and Spanish, and was committed to the care of sixteen per- sons, whom Henry had nominated regents, and governors of his son ; the chief of whom was the Earl of Hertford, the King's uncle, by the mother's side, who was soon after made Duke of Somerset, and protector to the young King. Henry left the reformation very imperfect; but the protector, assisted by Archbishop Cranmer, &c. made use of this opportunity to improve it. The young Queen of Scotland was now demanded in marriage for King Edward : but the same proposal being made by France in behalf of the Dauphin, she was sent into that kingdom : on which the Duke of Somerset in- vaded Scotland, met their army at Musselburgh, and though the Duke's army amounted to only 18,000 men, and the Scots to 30,000, the Scots were defeated with the loss of 14,000 killed, and 1500 prisoners ; and what is BISTORT OF ENQLAND. 329 surprising, the English are said to have lost only 31 horsemen, and 1 foot soldier. Private masses were now laid aside ; prayers were read in English, &c. However, Joan Booker, embracing the opinions of the German Baptists, was burnt as a heretic ; but the young king set his hand to the warrant with tears in his eyes, telling Archbishop Cranmer, " That if he did wrong, since it was in submission to his authority, he should answer to Giod for it." Ttese alterations occasioned great disturbance in the kingdom, which were at length suppressed, some by force and others by a proclamation for a general pardon. The duke of Somerset's power raised him many ene- mies, the chief of whom was his brother, Thomas Lord Seymour; but articles of accusation being exhibited against him, he was attainted in Parliament, and with- out an open trial condemned and beheaded. The Duke of Somerset was some time after charged with a design to seize the King, and to imprison the Earl of Warwick, which was both felony and treason. He was acquitted of treason, but condemned for felony ; and the young King being prevailed upon to sign the sentence, he was executed some time after. The Earl of Warwick, now Duke of Northumberland, succeeded to the Duke of So- merset's power, and at length (on the King's being taken ill of the measles) married the Lord Guildford Dudley, his fourth son, to the Lady Jane Grey, eldest daughter to the Duke of Suffolk, and persuaded Edward to settle the crown on her ; his sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, having been both declared illegitimate during the life-time of their father ; and the Prince hoping to save the reformation from impending destruction, appointed her his successor, and soon after died, July 6, 1553, in the 16th year of his age, and 7th of his reign. He was interred in Westmin- ster Abbey, but his monument was afterwards destroyed in the civil wars. Mart I.— From 1553 to 1558. The Duke of Northumberland kept the death of the young King for some time concealed; and when the 27* 330 YOUNG man's book op knowledge. Lady Jane, who was distinguished by her beauty, virtue, and learning, was informed of the settlement which her cousin Edward had made of the crown, she was with difficulty prevailed on to receive it, but was proclaimed in London with the usual formalities. In the mean time, the counties of Norfolk and Suffolk declared for Mary, and furnished her with troops, on her promising to leave religion in the same state she found it. The Duke of Northumberland marched from London to oppose them; but being deserted by his troops, he endeavoured to savai himself by declaring for Mary ; and in Cambridge mar-^ ket-place he proclaimed her Gtueen. The Duke of Suf- folk was ordered by the council to deliver up the Tower, and the Lady Jane Grey to quit the the title of Ctueen. Mary wag determined to sacrifice those whom she con- sidered as her principal enemies. The Duke of Nor- thumberland, with several other persons of distinction, were tried and executed. She was crowned on the 1st of October, 1653. She Boon after married Philip II. King of Spain, and openly declared for popery. An insurrection in Kent was raised by Sir Thomas Wyatt, who was beheaded ; and the Duke of Suffolk, endeayouring to raise forces in War- wickshire, not only that Duke, but his daughter, the Lady Jane Grey, and the Lord Guildford Dudley, his son-in-law, were beheaded. Persecution for religion, was now carried to a terrible height: Cranmer, Ridley, Latimer, and Ferrar, with some hundreds of persons, of different ranks and sexes, were burnt alive. The Princess Elizabeth was closely watched, and obliged to dissemble her religious senti- ments ; and her answer to Gardiner, who put the dange- rous question concerning these words of Christ, " This is my body," was full of caution, and a proof of her wit an4 good sense, Christ was the word that spake it ; He took the bread and brake it ; And what the world did make it, That I believe and take it. The people of England were greatly disgusted at the behaviour of Philip, who, soon after his arrival, declared HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 331 •war against France, and obtained a supply of 8,000 Eng- lish, by whose assistance the French were defeated at the battle of St. Q,uintin ; but they soon after took Calais, which was the only strong place the English had left in France. Philip had before been greatly disgusted with the dueen, for falsely imagining herself with child ; and this, added to the loss of Calais, threw her into an ill state of health; and while the people saw nothing but cruelty in the council, poverty in the exchequer, pride in the court, dissension at home, and contempt abroad, she died on the 17th of November, 1559, in the 43d 3'ear of her age, and was interred in King Henry VII.'s chapel, at Westminster. Elizabeth. — From 1558 to 1603. Elizabeth was proclaimed Queen the day her sister died. The House of Commons addressing the dueen to marry, she excused herself by saying, that by the cere- nony of her inauguration she was married to her people. The Dauphin having married Mary, Q,ueen of Scot- land, they assumed the title of King and Queen of Scot- land, England, and Ireland. But Mary becoming a widow, by the death of Francis II. King of France and Scotland, she quitted the title of Queen of England, and returned to her own kingdom. She then married her cousin, Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley ; but being accused of many familiarities with Rizzio, her husband became jealous, on which the Earl of Moreton and some others murdered Rizzio. Queen Mary now bestowed all her favours on the Earl of Bothwell, who murdered the King soon after her delivery of a prince, who was afterwards James I. King of England, and a few months after the murder, that Earl married the Queen. But Mary being in danger of her life, fled to England, where she was im- prisoned by Queen Elizabeth. The new born prince was immediately set on the throne of Scotland ; and Mary, after eighteen years confinement, was beheaded for a conspiracy carried on in her favour. Queen Elizabeth assisted to the utmost of her power, the Protestants both of France and Holland. Philip II. 332 YOUNG man's book op knowledge. King of Spain, exasperated at the assistance Elizabeth had given the Dutch, though he had before sought her in marriage, now formed the design of dethroning her, and prepared a prodigious fleet, which was called the Invincible Armada ; but that fleet having entered the Channel, was bravely attacked by Elizabeth's admirals, on the 2Ist of July, 155S ; when, after a bloody engage- ment, the English Admirals convinced the seamen, that the -dreadful apprehensions they had entertained of the large Spanish ships were groundless. The action was renewed on the 23d, when a sharp engagement ensued off Portland. A running fight was continued the next day ; and on the 25th another terrible rencounter hap- pened off the Isle of Wight. The Spaniards then bore down to the coast of Flanders, and were still pursued by the English ; who, in the night of the 28th, sent eight fire-ships among the Spanish fleet, which had anchored off Calais. The Spaniards then cut their cables and put to sea, were pursued by the English, who took some of their ships, and drove the rest on the coast of Zealand : but the wind chopping about, they escaped and returned home by sailing round Scotland and Ireland ; in which attempt several of their ships were taken by the English, and many of them were wrecked by tempests on the coast of Ireland ; very few of that Armada were able to get back into the ports of Spain. Lord Howard, of Ef- fingham, Sir Francis Drake, Captain Hawkins, and Captain Forbisher, were the chief commanders. The Spaniards lost 32 capital ships, with 13,500 men. ^ The next year she sent a fleet of 100 sail, under the command of Sir Francis Drake and John Norris, who plundered the Groyn, seized 60 ships in the Tagus, and destroj'ed Vigo. The Spaniards, in 1596, were preparing to invade England again ; upon which the Queen fitted out a fleet of 150 sail, with 22 Dutch ships, under Howard, Essex, Raleigh, and Vere ; when the Spanish fleet, which lay at Cadiz, was defeated by Raleigh, who took 4 ships, and the rest, which consisted of 13 men of war, 11 ships freighted for the Indies, and 33 others were burnt by the Spanish admiral himself, after his having offered in vain to ransom them for two millions of ducats. The stores HtSTOlsY 01' ENGLAND. 333 prepared against England were seized, the city plundered and burnt to the ground, and the loss of the Spaniards wais estimated at about twenty millions of ducats. The English returned with a prodigious booty. The Earl of Essex, who was the dueen's favourite, was sent as deputy-lieutenant to Ireland, with 20,000 men, to quell a rebellion, raised by the Earl of Tyrone. Essex, finding he had enemies near the Q,ueen, solicited in vain to return to England : he then grew inactive, and the rebels gained ground i At length, concluding a truce with Tyrone, he returned to England ; but was soon after suspended from all his employments ; after- wards attempting a change in the ministry, he was be- headed. Tyrone was at length defeated by Lord Mount- joy, and implored the Glueen's mercy. Elizabeth died on the 24th of March, 1603, in the 70th year of her age. She was interred in Henry Vll.'a chapel. She understood the Greek, Latin, French, Spanish, and Dutch languages ; spoke all but the last with great fluency, and encouraged them at her court. James L — From 1603 to 1625. On the death of dueen Elizabeth, James VI. of Scot-- land, was next heir to the crown, he being descended from the eldest daughter of King Henry VII. and in him the crowns of England and Scotland were united. King James and his Q,ueen were crowned at Westminster, on the 25th of July, 1603. In 1605, the plot to destroy the King and parliament, was discovered by an anonymous letter, directed to Lord Monteagle. In a cellar, under the parliament house, there were found 36 barrels of gunpowder, upon which were laid bars of iron, massy stones, &c. near to which was Guy Fawkes, concealed with a dark lanthorn and three matches, who instantly confessed himself guilty ; and with Sir Everard Digby, Catesby,and several others, were executed. Frederick, Elector Palatine, married the King's daughter Elizabeth, from which marriage the present royal family descended; the Princess Sophia, 334 yoUNq man's book of kmowledgis. King George the First's mother, being the immediate issue of it. A little before this marriage, Prince Henry, the King's eldest son, and Prince of Wales, died in the 18th year of his age. It was generally believed he was poisoned by Rochester, the royal favourite. The great Sir Walter Raleigh, the glory of his countryi had been thrown into prison for being one of the princi- pals in a ridiculous plot, pretended to have been formed in favour of King James's cousin-german, the Lady Arabella Stuart, before James's coronation, of which he was unjustly found guilty, without legal proof, and had been fourteen years confined in the Tower, when he was discharged, and sent on an expedition in quest of a gold mine, on the coast of Guiana ; but returning without ef« fecting the discovery, to please the Count of Gondomer, the Spanish ambassador, he was re-committed to the Tower, and cruelly beheaded on his former sentence. The Dutch, who owed their freedom to England, now despised James's power, and massacred the English at ' Amboyna; where they put the factory to death, and seized their effects. King James's son, Charles, Prince of Wales, was mar- ried to the daughter of the French King, Henry IV. and as she was a Papist, she established that religion in the family of the Stuarts. King James died on the 27th of March, 1625, in the 59th year of his age, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. His ignorance of the English constitution induced him to strain the royal prerogative. He had, however, some Virtue blended with his many vices, and he pro- moted the commerce of the kingdom. In 1606, Virginia was planted with an English colony, soon after which new England, and the Bermuda Isl- ands, wer6 made English plantations. Charles l.^From 1625 to 1649. King Charles was born at Dumfermline, in Scotland, on the 19th of November, 1600, and succeeded his father, James I., in the 25th year of his age, but was not crowned till the 2d of February, 1626. HISTORT OF ENGLAND. 333 King Charles, soon after his marriage, entered into a •war with Spain, and sent a fleet against Cadiz, which proved unsuccessful. However, resolving to carry on the war, and the exchequer being exhausted, he called a parliament, when supplies not being granted, he had recourse to raising money without a parhament. He then declared war against France, in which meet* ing with no success, a peace was concluded between England, France, and Spaia After this, the King called another parliament, and endeavoured to have the duty of tonnage and poundage, (granted only for certain purposes,) put entirely into his hands ; but the parliament not complying, he dissolved them. The revenues of the crown being now insufficient for its support, the ministers proceeded to the following rigorous methods of raising money, viz. They exacted the duty of tonnage and poundage ; granted very numerous monopoli^ ; a gene ral loan was proposed, and the people had soldiers bil- leted on them to compel payment j several gentlemen were imprisoned for not subscribing ; and a tax was im- posed under pretence of protecting the coast from pirates. The dissenters were severely persecuted, and the King obtained considerable sums by heavy fines imposed in the Star Chamber. After a long disuse of parliaments, Charles was obliged to recall one, in 1640 ; they renewed the complaint of grievances; extorted a favourable declaration from the King, and even obliged him to make the parliament per- petual, unless they consented to their dissolution. Wentworth, Earl of Staffijrd, and Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury, being the King's principal advisers, were both tried and beheaded. A rebellion broke out in Ireland, in which 150,000 Protestants were cruelly put to death by the Papists; pretending that thej' acted by the King's authority, though he solemnly disclaimed it. In short, tumults between the King and parliament now began to run high ; but the first act of hostility was the King's ap- pearing before Hull, and summoning Sir John Hotha,m, the governor, to surrender, which he absolutely refused. King Charles then set up his standard at Nottingham ; and the parliament raised forces, and made the Earl of 336 Essex their general ; and soon after a battle was fought near Edge Hill, in which each party claimed the victory, and about 5000 men were killed on both sides. The next year the King's army was successful in the West of England ; but his forces in the north were en- tirely routed at Marston Moor, and the King engaging with Essex again at Newbury, was obliged to retreat With great loss. In 1645, Sir Thomas Fairfax was made general in Chief over the parliament's forces, in the room of the Earl of Essex, and Oliver Cromwell was appointed lieutenant- general : when the two armies Came to an engagement, the parliamentarians obtained a complete victory. The next year the King made his escape to the Scotch army ; but the Scotch at last consented to deliver the King to the parliament, in consideration of the sum of 400,000Z. which was done at Newcastle, on the 30th of January, 1647, when he Was escorted by Sir Thomas Fairfax, with 900 horse to Holmby House, in Northamp- tonshire. Cromwell, who had distinguished himself by his mili- tary bravery, now ingratiated himself with the soldiery, and became formidable to the parliament itself. He in- troduced the officers, and some of the most sensible of the common soldiers into the House of Commons, under the name of Agitators ; and Cromwell acted as their King. They sent to Holmby, and took the King into their hands ; and at length brought him to St. James's, when an order was passed for bringing him to trial : accord- ingly, a new court was erected, called the high court of justice. The president was John Bradshaw, serjeant at law. The King being several times brought before the court, and disowning its authority, sentence was pro noimced against him on the 27th of January, 1649 ; and on the 30th of the same month he was beheaded on a public scaffold, at Whitehall, in the 49th year of his age. On the scaffold he declared himself a Protestant, and de- nied his having any ill designs on his people. History of englaKD. 337 The C0MMOKWEA1.TH OF England. — JFVow 1649 to 165S. The Parliament had no sooner destroyed the King, than they declared the royal power dangerous, and voted the House of Lords useless. They next appointed forty members of the executive power, under the title of ' The Council of State.' Cromwell was then sent into Ireland to reduce the rebels, and in about nine months made great progress towards the reduction of that island: but the Scots revol- ting, and calling over the young King, the Parliament sent for Cromwell in haste, and a battle was fought on the 3d of September, 1660, at Worcester, in which Crom- well defeated the King's army. His majesty on this fled to the house of William Penderel, at Boscobel, on the confines of Staffordshire, where he lodged at night in a garret, and in the day sat in a large oak in an adjacent wood : he at length escaped to Normandy. Cromwell afterwards defeated the Scots at Dunbsir, took Edinburgh Castle, and entirely reduced that king- dom. Cromwell, 1635, set up a council of state, who some time after gave him the title of ■ The Lord Protector of England." The Commonwealth was long at war with the Dutch, and in several battles at sea the English distinguished themselves by an amazing intrepidity, ; in one of which the English, with 106 sMps, beat the Dutch, who had 120. Cromwell made peace with the Dutch, obtained Dun- kirk, took Jamaica, and, in short, made his name vmivef- sally formidable. At length Cromwell died on the 3d of September, 1658, about wWch time there was one of the most violent tem- pests ever known in England. Soon after the protectoi^s death, the people turned their thoughts to the restoration of the royal authority and fa- mily, which was brought about by General Monk ; and King Charles II. was invited to England, and proclaim- ed mng, May, 8, 1660. On the 28th he landed at Do- 28 338 TODNG man's book of knowledge. ver, and on the 29th made his public entry through London on horseback, attended by his two brothers, James, Duke of York, and Henry, Duke of Gloucester. Charles 11.— ^Jfominally from 1649, dciiially from, 1660 to 1685. Charles II. was crowned on the 23d of April, 1661, One of the first laws passed, in his reign was an act of indemnity, excepting those personally concerned in the death of his father, and a few others. King Charles was married to Catharina, Infanta of Portugal ; and, in 1664, entered into a war with the Dutch, in which several naval battles were fought, and, in particular, a very bloody one on the 3d of June, 1665 ; ■when Opdam, the Dutch admiral, lost his life, together with his ship, and 19 others taken, burnt, or sunk : but in 1667, the Dutch sailed up the Medway, and burnt many of our ships at Chatham ; soon after which a peace was concluded. In 1678, one Titus Gates went into Spain, and having feformed himself of a plot formed by the Pope, the King of France, the Duke of York, and others, applied to Sir Edmundbury Godfrey, a justice of peace in Westminster, and represented to him, that they had formed a design to murder the King, and subvert the Protestant religion in England. On thb, Sir Ednrundbury Grodfrey took his deposition ; but was soon after murdered, and his body found in a ditch. Several persons were tried and hanged for that murder. The Presbyterians were then charged with a plot by the Papists ; and, for this pretended conspiracy, the brave Lord Bussell, Colonel Sidney, and the Earl of Esses!, lost their lives. In 1667, Lord Chancellor Hyde, whose daughter had been married to the Duke of York, was disgraced, and went to France, where he wrote the History of the Re- bellion. Though the Duke of York was a Papist, yet that was made so great a secret, that the people were fined for mentioning it. The King suffered Louis XIV. to be supplied with timber for building ships; and selling HISTORY OF ENGLAKD. 339 Dunkirk, which Cromwell had procured for England, employed the purchase money in his pleasures. King Charles died on the 6th of February, 1685, in the 65th year of his age, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. In this reign Milton wrote his Paradise Lost, and Butler his Hudibras; Waller, Cowley, Dryden, and Roscommon also did honour to the nation by their writings. In 1665, a plague carried off in London 70 or 80,000 persons. In 1666, was the dreadful fire, which burnt above 13,000 houses, and 90 churches. In this reign a person named Blood, stole the crown, sceptre, and regalia, out of the Tower, but was discovered and taken. In 1683, there was so severe a frost, from the middle of November to the 5th of February, that hackney coaches plied on the Thames. James IL— From 1685 to 1688. James, Duke of York, was proclaimed King on the 6th of February, 1685. In the privy council he pro- mised to preserve the government of church and state ; yet he went publicly to mass two days after his accession. The coronation of the King and dueen was on the 3d of April. Titus Gates, the discoverer of the Popish plot in the late reign, was now punished with severity. Mr. Dangerfield, and Mr. Richard Baxter, also received severe treatment : the former for discovering a pretended plot, and the latter for reflecting on the prelates. The Duke of Monmouth landed at Lyme, in Dorset" shire, with only 83 followers, on the 11th of June, and published a declaration : That his sole motive for taking arms was to maintain the Protestant religion, and to de- liver the nation from the usurpation and tjrranny of James, Duke of York, and that his mother was actually married to King Charles II., but he was taken prisoner, and beheaded on Tower Hill, July 15, 1685. Those who had espoused hia cause, were now but- chered by military execution, under General Kirk, or Jtidge Jefferies. 340 TOUNO man's BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. In short, about 600 persons were hanged, and tha steeples, tower gates, aifll roads, were stuck with their heads and limbs. Several arbitrary and scandalous proceedings were carried on against the Protestants at the instance of the King. Meanwhile, the Clueen was said to be delivered of a prince, on the 10th of June, 1668, though such measures were taken, as raised a suspicion of its being a design to impose an heir upon the kingdom. This event alienated the minds of the princesses Mary and Anne, the King's own undisputed children, by Lady Anne Hyde. The Prince of Orange, stadtholder of the United Pro- vinces, had married Mary, King James's eldest daughter, and was himself the son of that King's eldest sister; he naturally attracted the regard of the people of England, who applied to him for deliverance. He landed at Tor- bay, on the 4th of November, 1668, and was joyfully received by the people. The King's commissioners treated with the Prince of Orange. The prince made very moderate proposals, but James chose to desert his kingdom rather than retract what he had done in favour of the Popish religion ; and being disguised, embarked in a vessel, near Feversham, in Kent, where he was stopped by some fishermen and brought back to London ; but he fled a second time, and escaped into France, December, 1688. He spent the last twelve years of his life at St. Germain's, where Louis XIV. allowed him a pension of 50,000Z. sterling per annum, and his daughter Mary 4,000^. which he received secretly. At length, he died there in 1701, in the 68th year of his age. William 111.— From 1688 to 1702. Upon King James's departure, the lords and commons at length agreed that he had abdicated the throne. Then the Princess Mary and the Prince of Orange were pro- claimed King and Queen, on the 13th of February, 1689, and crowned on the 11th of April following. An attemot was made to secure Scotland for King HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 341 James; but on the 26th of May, 16S9, the two armies met at KiUicranky, in the shire of Perth, when Lieuten- ant-General Mackey, who commanded for King William, obtained a victory: after which the whole island of Great Britain submitted to King William. In Ireland, Tyrconnel had disarmed the Protestants in a great part of the kingdom, and formed an army of Pa- pists, amounting to 30,000 foot and 8,000 horse, while the Protestants in the north took up arms for King Wil- liam. Meanwhile, James made his public entry into Dublin, and headed 20,000 men, and was twice rein- forced by the French with 5,000 men each time. James's forces were often defeated ; and at length William arri- ving in person, he gained a complete victory over James at the battle of the Boyne, and thereby established him- self on the throne of Ireland. James then took shipping for Franca Soon after the battle of the Boyne, King William re- turned to England ; but another battle was fought June 30, 1691, at Aughrim, between the English, commanded by Genera] Ginkle, and the Irish, assisted by the French ; when the English gained a complete victory ; and thus an end was put to the war in Ireland. About this time, King William formed a gtand. alliance against Louis XIV. and headed the allied armies in se- veral battles ; at length the French made overtures of peace, and the treaty was concluded at Ryswick, in 1697. Whilst the King was thus engaged abroad, his illus- trious Q,ueen died, December 28, 1694, and was greatly lamented. Several conspiracies were formed in favour of James, during King William's reign, the most remarkable of which was the eissassination plot for murdering the prince in his couch ; for which Sir John Fenwick and others were executed. King William was thrown from his horse, by which his coUar-bone was dislocated, and he died on the 8th of March, 1702, aged 61 years, and was intened in Henry VII.'s chapel. 28* 343 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. Anne.— From 1702 to 1714. The crown devolved to the Princess Anne, daughter of James II. This Princess was born at St. James's, Feb- ruary 16, 1665; was married to George, Prince of Den- mark, July 28, 1683 ; and was crowned April 23, 1702. War was declared against France and Spain, on the 4th of May, by the Gtueen, the Emperor, and the States- General ; but the actions were so numerous, that it would be impossible, in the narrow compass we are here con- fined to, to mention particularly every engagement. In 1702, Marlborough led to the field 'the army of the allies, consisting of 63,000 foot and 2,700 horse. He took, the first campaign, Venlo, Ruremond, Stephen- sweart, and Liege. On August 3d, 1704j Marlborough gained a great victory at Blenheim, in which the French had 12,000 men killed, and 14,000 made prisoners, among whom was Marshal Tallard, seven generals, and 1,200 other ofiicers, and near 600 squadrons were drowned in the Danube. Sir George Rook took Gibraltar, after a siege of two days, on July 4, 1704. Next year, Marlborough, with 74,000 men, defeated the French and Bavarians, consist- ing of 75,960. The same year the brave Earl of Peterborough, took Barcelona ; and next raised the siege of St. Mattheo, and with 1,200 men obliged 7,000 to fly, took Moiviedro, and seized Valencia. On May 12, 1706, Marlborough, with 59,180 men, attacked the French and Bavarians, 61,120 strong, and, in less than two hours, put their whole army to flight. The enemy had 8,000 killed, 4,000 wounded, and 6,000 taken prisoners. In 1708, Marlborough and Prince Eugene defeated the whole French army at Oudenard. The French had 4,000 killed and wounded, and 7,000 taken prisoners ; while the confederates had only 820 men killed. The Duke soon after took Lisle, relieved Brussels, and obliged Ghent to surrender. During these transactions, Major- General Stanhope, with 3,000 men, landed at Minorca, HISTOKT OF ENGLAND. 343 and the whole island was conquered in three weeks, with the loss of only 40 men. In 1711, the Duke took Bouchain, and made the gar- rison prisoners of war ; and this was the last service he performed in the field, who, in the course of ten cam- paigns, had the honour of receiving ten times the thanks ef both houses of parliament ; and at last, on the change of ministry, dismissed from all his employments. These wars were at length concluded by the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713. The animosities of parties, it is thought, shortened the days of the Q,ueen, who died at Kensington, Aug. 1, 1714, in the 50th year of her age, having lost her royal consort about sis years. She was jwivately interred in Henry VII.'s chapel. In this reign the kingdoms of England and ScolJand were united. George I.— JFrow 1714 to 1727. On the death of Queen Anne, the privy council gave orders that the Elector of Hanover should be proclaimed King; and he was crowned on the 11th of October fol- lowing. His Majesty immediately made several changes in the ministty ; and the Duke of Marlborough was re- stored to his former posts. Meanwhile, the Pretender asserted his claim to the crown, and it soon appeared that James, the son of James lid. had a considerable party in England. John Ers- kine. Earl of Mar, with several other noblemen and gen- tlemen, assembled at the Brae of Mar ; and on September 16, proclaimed the Pretender King, and their numbers soon increased to 12,000 men. The Earl of Derwent- water and Mr. Forester assembled their friends in Nor- thumberland, and Forester declared the Pretender King at Warkworth. Meanwhile, Lord Viscount Kenmure headed some noblemen and others in the west of Scot- land, and at the same time declared the Pretender King at Moffat, in Annandale. Kenmure joined Forester on the borders of Scotland. At length, M'intosb, Kenmure, and Forester, marched to Preston in Lancashire \ but the Generals Willis aa4 344 yoiTNO man's book or knowlkdgz.. Carpenter, with nine regisaents of dragoons, and one of foot, surrounded the place; when Forester submitted, and delivered up all his men prisoners at discretion. On the 22d of December, the Pretender landed at Pe- terhead, and was conducted to Fetterosse, where he was proclaimed King. The Duke of Argyle, in January, 1716, obliged the rebels to abandon Perth ; from whence they returned to Montrose, whe?e the Pretender privately made his escape to France ; upon which General Gor- don led them into the mountains, where they were dis- persed. Of the great numbers who were sentenced to die for this rebellion, none were executed except the Lords Der- wentwater and Kenmure, and a small number of the lower rank. In 1718, war was declared against Spain, when Sir George Byng was sent with 21 ships into the Mediterra- nean ; and on July 31, he defeated the Spanish admiral, took ten men of war, and burnt four, and even made the admiral and rear-admiral prisoners. After which, he destroyed seven Spanish men of war, and great quantities of naval stores on the coast of Sicily and Biscay. In December, a Spanish squadron, with 10,000 regular troops, under the Duke of Ormond, was sent to invade England ; but were dispersed by a violent storm. How- ever, the Marquis of Tullybardine, and the Earl of Sea- forth and Marischal, with 307 Spanish soldiers, landed in Scotland, and were joined by 2000 Highlanders : but General Wightman, with 1200 men, on the IQth of June, entirely defeated them. Lord Cobham then made a descent upon Spain, and took Vigo. ^ In 1727, his Majesty set out for his German domi- nions, but was taken ill in his coach on the road to Ha- nover, and died two days after at his brother's palace at Osnaburgh, on the 1 1th of June, in the 68th year of his age, and the 13th of his reign, and was interred at Ha- nover. King George I. was of a moderate stature ; his fea- tures were regular and manly, and his countenance grave and majestic. He was an able and experienced general, and a consummate politician. BISTORT OF ENGLAND. 345 George II.— Prow 1727 to 1760. As his late Majesty died abroad, his death was not known till the 14th of June, 1727, and his Majesty King George II. was the next morning proclaimed King ; and he with his Q,ueen were crowned at Westminster, on the 11th of October. His Majesty found the nation engaged in a war with the Spaniards; but in 1729, a peace was concluded at Seville between Great Britain, France, and Spain. On October 29, 1739, war was declared by England against Spain ; and on November 22, 1740, Admiral 7ernon, with six ships took Porto Bello. The next year he was sent with 29 ships of the line, with 10,000 sol- diers, under the command of General Wentworth, to attack Carthagena ; but though he destroyed six Spanish ships of the line, and seven galleons, the attempt mis- carried, through a disagreement between the Admiral and the Grener^l. Commodore Anson sailed from England with five men of war, in 1740 ; and after having suffered the most dreadful distresses, surprised and took PaitEi, on the 12th of November, 1741, and having plundered and burnt the town, and seized several Spanish ships, he, on his return. by the way of the East Indies, took the Manilla galleon, loaded with treasure. He arrived in England, in 1744, with the riches he had acquired from the Spaniards, amounting to about 400,000Z. His late Majesty George the 1st powerfully supported the Q,ueen of Hungarys succession to the hereditary dominions of her father, the Emperor Charles VL ; and at length Britain and France under the name of auxilia- ries to the contending parties, became principals in the war : when his Britannic Majesty not only furnished 16,000 British troops, but in person headed the allied army in Germany, accompanied by the Duke of Cum- berland ; and a battle was fought at Dettingen, June 16, 1743, when the King of Great Britain had the glory of the field. The Duke of Cumberland was wounded in the action. In 1744, war was declared against France ; and in 346 YovNO man's book of knowledge. 1745, the people of New England, assisted by ten men of war, under Commodore Warren, took Cape Breton, with the loss of only 100 men ; but were afterwards obliged to part with it for Madras. On the 14th of July, the young Pretender sailed for Scotland in a small frigate, and landed there on the 27th of July. He soon obtained a considerable force, and pro ceeding through several parts of Scotland, had his father proclaimed King, while he himself assumed the title of Prince-Regent. He took several places, and gained some advantages over the King's forces sent against him ; but at length the Duke of Cumberland went to Edin- burgh, and took the command of the army, and on the 15th of April came to an engagement near Culloden house, and obtained a complete victory, in which about 1400 of the rebels were killed, wounded, and taken pri- soners, though the royal array had only 60 men killed, and 280 wounded. The Earl of Kilmarnock, Lord Bal- merino. Lord Lovet, and Mr. Radcliffe, brother to the late Earl of Derwentwater, were afterwards beheaded on Tower-hill for this rebellion. Hostilities at length ceased in Flanders, and a general peace was proclaimed in London, February 2, 1749. The French, however, soon broke the truce by erecting forts on the back of the British settlements in America ; and in 1754, attempted to seize Nova Scotia: these de- predations brought on several engagements, which were attended with various successes. Meanwhile, the French landed 17,000 men in Minorca, which was defended by General Blackeney. His Ma- jesty declared war against France on the 15th of May, 1756, and sent Admiral Byng, with a strong fleet to the relief of Minorca ; but he neglecting to fulfil his instruc- tions, the place was lost, and was tried and shot at Portsmouth. During these transactions, Colonel Clive distinguished himself in the East Indies ; and all the towns and fac- tories belonging to the French on the coast of Coroman- del, except only Pondioherry, were in a few years taken by the British. In 1658, the Duke of Marlborough landing near St. Maloes, in France, burnt many ships, with a great quan- HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 347 tity of naval stores. Lieutenant-General Bligh, and Captain (now Lord) Howe, took Cberburgh, and demo- lished its fortifications. Soon after, Captain Maish took Senegal, and Commodore Keppel took the island of Goree, on the coast of Africa. On the 26th of July, Cape Breton was again taken by General Amherst and Admiral Boscawen. Soon after. Fort Frontenac sui^ rendered to Lieutenant-General Bradstreet, and Fort du QrUesne to GSeneral Forbes. On May 1, 1759, the veJuaWe island of Guadaloupe surrendered to the British, and the same month Mariga- lante, Santos and Deseada, became subject to Britain. And the same year, the French lost Q,uebec, the capital of Canada. In 1760, Thurot, landing with three frigates in the Bay of Carrickfeigus, they were all taken by Captain Elliot ; and on September 8, Montreal and sdl Canada submitted to the British. But after these glorious con- quests his Majesty King George II. to the inexpressible grief of his people, died at Kensington, on the 25th of October, in the 77th year of his age, and the next day George III. was proclaimed King. George ItL—From 1760 io 1814. Gieorge III. who was the eldest son of Frederick, Prince of Wales, succeeded his grandfather, and was proclaimed on the 26th of October, 1760. He was bom June 4, 1738. The beginning of his Majest3r's reign was accompanied with great events, the war being carried on with success in every quarter of the world. On the 8th of September his Majesty was married at the Royal Chapel, at St. James's, to her Serene Highness the Princess Charlotte, of Mecklenburgh Strelitz ; and, on the 22d of September, their Majesties were crowned in the Abbey church of Westminster. In 1762, war was declared against Spain. This year the British arms were triumphant in all quarters of the globe. The heroes were the Admirals Rodney and Po- cock, General Monckton, the Earl of Albemarle, and hers. 848 YOUNG man's book of knowxhdox. These successes made our enemies weary of the war, in consequence of which a peace was concluded at Fon- tainbleau, in February, 1762. For some few years after the peace, the history of Great Britain is confined almost wholly to domestic transactions. In 1768, Mr. Wilkes, though an outlaw, carried his election for Middlesex : but was afterwards expelled the bouse of commons, and committed to the King's Bench prison ; in consequence of which several riots happened in St. George's Fields, and some persons lost their lives. In 1771, his imprisonment expired, when he was chosen one of the sberiiFs for London, elected an alderman, afterwards lord mayor, and at last chamberlain of the city. I, We must pass over the other domestic disturbances of this year, in order to record those of a more serious nature in North America, where, in 1771, a rebellion broke out, occasioned by new duties being laid on paper, glass, tea, and other articles. The mother country repealed all these duties, except that on tea ; and when some ships arrived at Boston, laden with that article, the Bostonians emptied their cargoes into the sea. These proceedings enraging the English government, an act was passed here for shutting up the port of Boston ; and the Ameri- cans, on their side, in consequence, declared themselves independent of Great Britain. In 1776, the British and American troops came to blows at Concord, in New England ; and several skir- mishes afterwards ensued, in which many were killed on both sides, without producing any thing decisive. The Americans began to take up arms in every quarter, and they assumed the title of " The United States of Ame- rica." They soon after took the garrisons of Ticonde- roga and Crown Point, where they found great quantities of military stores. In 1778, the British government offered terms, which the Americans disdained. The war was, therefore, car- ried on with mutual animosity, and the Americans lost all Georgia. In the course of this year, the French en- tered into an alliance with the Thirteen United States ; and soon after, Admiral Keppel engaged the French fleet, commanded by Count D'Orvilliers. Neither sida HiaTORT or ENGLAND. 349 got the victory in this action, and the French were suf- fered to get off, owing to the misunderstanding between Admirals Keppel and Palliser. In 1779, the Spaniards, joined by the French took New Orleans on the Mississippi, and laid siege to Gib- raltar. The year 1780 will be ever memorable for one of the most alarming riots that ever happened in the city of London. The King's Bench prison, New Bridewell, the Fleet prison, were all burnt, and the city represented a town taken by storm, by the hands of unmerciful ene- mies. At length, troops poured into London from all quarters, when tranquility was restored ; no small num- ber of the rioters were shot, some burnt in the flames they themselves had kindled, and many were afterwards tried and executed. In April, 1782, Admiral Rodney came up with the French fleet, when an engagement took place, and the Ville de Paris, a ship of 110 guns, was taken, with two of 74, and one of 64 guns. A 74 gun ship blew up by accident, soon after she was in our possession, and another of 74 sunk during the engagement. A few days after, two more of the same fleet, of 64 guns, were cap- tured. By this victory the design against Jamaica was frustrated, and Admiral Rodney, on his return, was created a peer. In September the siege of Gibraltar ended in disappointment, and the destruction of almost all the ships and most of the assailants in them. In 1783, a period was put to this most calamitous war, in which Great Britain lost the best part of her American colonies, besides many thousand valuable lives, and squandered nearly 160 millions of money. From this period to the year 1787, we have no great political event to record, when the Spaniards seizing an English vessel at Nootka Sound, occasioned a rupture, and both nations made great naval preparations ; but the matter was at last ended by a kind of treaty. The naval armament was hardly dismissed, when the Empress of Russia making heavy claims on the Turks, took from them Oczakow, Ismael, &c. which alarmed the British court, who fitted out a large fleet ; but soon 29 350 TotJNG man's book of knowledge. consented to disarm it, and leave the Russians in posses- sion of their conquests. Soon after this, his Majesty was seized with a violent disorder, which was at first thought to be a fever, and continued in that state for several days, with very little hopes of recovery. The parliament met in December, and violent debates passed between the different parties, in order to settle a regency during his Majesty's indispo- sition. A bill passed the house of commons for appoint- ing the Prince of Wales Regent, and it was nearly in its last stage in the house of lords, when his Majesty sent a message to the house, acquainting them of his recovery, and his ability to attend to the public concerns of the nation. The illuminations on this joyful event were such as had never been equalled before in this, or perhaps any city in the world. AH r^nks and orders, from the peer to the humblest mechanic, carried their invention ~ and abilities to the utmost stretch. The 23d of April, 1789, was a day of general thanks- giving. His Majesty went in state to St. Paul's cathe- dra], preceded by both houses of parliament. A remarkable revolution happened in France, in July, 1789. The King was deprived of his authority, the Bastile was destroyed, all nobility abolished, and the revenues of the' clergy taken from them. In 1790, disgraceful riots and outrages took place at Birmingham, occasioned by a jealousy arising in those of the established church against the dissenters. In 1792, a bill passed the house of commons for the gradual abolition of the slave trade, which was the first step towards putting a period to that horrid traffic ; and in 1807, another bill passed the house for finally abolish- ing that trade. A proclamation was issued against seditious writings, which caused numerous meetings and addresses, testify- ing the loyalty of the people. In the East Indies, a war was carried on against Tip- poo Saib, which was successfully terminated by Lord Cornwallis, and the two sons of Tippoo were given as hostages for the performance of the conditions of peace. The troubles still continuing in France, all the foreign nmbassadors quitted that country. The National Cou HISTOR; of BNGLANl). 351 vention decreed, that France is a Republic; and they tried and condemned their Kins', -who suffered death by the guillotine, January 21, 1793; the Queen also suf- fered on the 6th of October following. They declared •war against England, Holland, &c. and their minister quitted England. About this time, Lord Hood, took possession of Toulon, by consent of the inhabitants ; but not having sufficient force, the Republicans soon obliged him to evacuate it ; but he took away and destroyed great part of their fleet. The Duke of York attacked Dunkirk, but was soon obliged to raise the siega In 1794, several persons were committed to the Tower on suspicion of high treason, who were afterwards tried and acquittal At this time the Dutch, through fear, began to treat with France for peace ; the Stadtholder fled to England with his family ; and the Dutch formed an alliance with the French, and changed the form of their repubUc. Spain next made peace with France. Both these countries were now exposed to hostilities from England ; and in consequence lost several of their colo- nies, and most of their ships. Various disturbances broke out in this kingdom among the poor, in the year 1795, on account of the dearness of bread. The King was insulted in going to the parlia- ment house, and something like a bullet discharged at his coach. In 1796, Lord Malmsbury was sent to negociate a peace with France, but without effect. The next year an alarming mutiny broke out in the navy, which was quelled, and some of the offenders pu- nished. The negociation was sigain renewed, and Lord Malmsbury sent to Lisle, but with no better success. A very serious rebellion broke out in Ireland, in 1798, In which it is said that 25,000 human beings lost their lives, some of them of high consideration. The French landed some troops in that country, who were taken pri- soners. They afterwards made another attempt, but their ships were taken by Sir John Warren. The French sent an expedition, with 40,000 troops to Egypt, iuid took Malta in their passage ; they effected a 362 TOUNG man's book op knowledge. landing in Egypt, but the English attacked their ships in Aboukir Bay, and took all but two, which fled. Troops with ships, were sent from Russia to assist the English in an expedition to Holland, with a view of driving the French from that country : this object en- tirely failed ; but they succeeded in bringing away the Dutch fleet. An expedition was sent to Egypt, under General Abercrombie, who made good his landing, and defeated the French ; but being wounded in the first battle, he died soon after. The French were sent home prisoners of war. On the 1st of January, 1801, the union of England and Ireland took place. Malta next surrendered to the English, in consequence of which the Emperor of Russia withdrew from his alliance with Great Britain, and formed a confederacy with the northern powers, about the rights of neutral ships ; the English disputed it, and Lord Nelson gained a complete victory over the Danes at Copenhagen. The English were now left to contend with the French alone, who threatened them with an invasion, and many gun-boats were prepared. Lord Nelson was sent to at- tack them, which he did after suffering great loss, and without success. Soon after, a new administration was formed, who immediately concluded a peace. This peace, which is now commonly termed the peace of Amiens, was signed in that city on the 27th March, 1802, between the French republic, the King of Spain, and the Batavian republic, on the one part ; and the King of Great Britain and Ireland on the other. In general, the terms were not considered to be such as this country ought to consider an equivalent for all the blood and treasure that she had expended during a twenty years state of hostility ; but the subjects of Great Britain were become wearied of a state of warfare, and despairing of being able to subdue the domineering conduct of the ruler of France, they were not disposed to scrutinize very rigorously the terms on which it had been concluded. Great Britain ceded almost all its conquests during the war, except Ceylon and Trinidad. Malta was to be restored to the order of St. John of Jerusalem ; and at a HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 353 Stipulated period was, consequently, to be given up by the English who then geirrisoned it, and their refusal to fulfil this part of the treaty, became the ostensible pretext for the renewal of hostilities between France and Eng- land. Some indignities offered to Lord Whitworth, the British minister, by the first consul of France, who thought proper to affirm, that " England, single-handed, could not contend with France," was considered in the light of insult and defiance, and it determined the British minister not to give up Malta. War being resolved on, both sides adopted martial operations with great promp- titude and vigour. Bonaparte threatened the invasion of England, and gun-boats were prepared in great abun- dance, and collected at Boulogne and other of the French ports, which for some time kept England in an unexam- pled state of alarm and consternation, during the whole of the year 1803 ; but after reiterated experiments on the part of France, to navigate them so as to screen them from the vengeance of the British navy, the object was abandoned and the terror that had been excited gradually Eubside.d. In 1804, Mr. Pitt who had resigned the helm of af- fairs to Mr. Addington, in order that the peace of Amiens might take place, resumed his station; but from this time such was the unfortunate nature of his administra- tion, that he may be said to have been placed under the influence of an evil angel, and though he continued at his post for about two years, he appeared no longer the same man, all his energies were paralyzed ; confidence forsook him ; his health declined ; and on the 23d of January, 1806, he died, in the 47th year of his age. In the course of the year 1805, the famous battle of Trafalgar took place, probably the most renowned in the whole annals of British naval glory. On the i9th of October, the combined fleets of France and Spain, amounting to 33 sail of the line, of which 18 were French and 15 Spanish, left the harbour of Cadiz, steer- ing towards the straits of Gibraltar. Lord Nelson fol- lowed them with the British fleet of 27 ships of the line, and on the 21st came up with them off Cape Trafalgar. The enemy, on his approach, drew up in the form of a crescent, and waited for the English fleet, which bore 39+ 364 YouNO man's book of knowledge. down in a double column, the gallant commander's last signal being "England expects every man to do his du- ty." Nobly indeed was it performed ; the enemy's line ■was broken : a close action ensued, which, in about four hours terminated in the capture of nineteen sail of the combined fleet, with the commander in chief, Villeneuve, and two Spanish Admirals! But unparalleled as this was in the annals of British victory, it was purchased at an immense expense; we lost 1587 men in killed or wounded, among whom the country had to deplore that of the gallant commander, who received a mortal wound by a -musket-shot from the ship with which he was closely engaged, and died at the moment of declared vic^orj'. By this battle of Trafalgar, however, a mortal blow was given to the combined navies from which they nevei .'ecovered during the war, and which left the British flag complete master of the sea. On the decease of Mr. Pitt, which took place a few months after the victory of Trafalgar, a new administrar tion was formed. Lord Grenville was made first Lord of the Treasury, and Mr. Fox, Secretary of State for Fo- reign Affairs. This administration proved but short- lived, owing to the death of Mr. Fox, who did not sur- vive the year ; but it is nevertheless memorable for having put a termination to that infernal traffic, the slave trade. The year 1806 was signalised also by the impeachment of Lord Melville, by a committee of the House of Com- mons. He was tried in Westminster Hall, but acquitted by the Peers, the number of , whom that voted was 158. An attempt was also made during Lord Grenville's ad- ministration, to grant emancipation to the Irish Catholics; but his Majesty having been persuaded that to remove their disabilities was contrary to his coronation oath, he dissolved the parliament, and chose a new ministry, by which means the bill was got rid of. The great and avowed object of France at this time, was the ruin of the commerce of England, and subverting her naval superiority; and the undiguised manner in which this was acknowledged, determined the British ministry to counteract it by every means in their power. On the continent of Europe Bonaparte reigned without control. Spain, Austria, the states of Germany, and H1ST0R\ OF ENGLAND. OOO Prussia were his vassals. At Berlin he issued a decree, declaring the whole of Great Dritain in a state of block- ade. This gave rise to the Orders in Council, by which the country was so strongly agitated for several years ; but the most painful: circumstance attending them was the attack upon Copenhagen, which was made by a powerful expedition that this country fitted out, in Au- gust 1807, consisting of an army of 20,000 men, and a fleet of 27 sail of the line, besides smaller vessels. Ad- miral Lord Gambier was entrusted with the command of this expedition ; the object of which was to demand the Danish fleet to be given up to Great Britain, to prevent its falling into the hands of France j and as the Prince Regent of Denmark declined to comply with the British demand, atremenduous fire was opened upon Copenhagen, by the bomb-vessels and batteries which the English had constructed, and on the 2d September a general confla gration ensued. The fleunes were kept up in different places till the evening of the 5th, when a considerable part of the city being consumed, and the remainder threatened with destruction, the city capitulated ; the ships were given up to the admiral, viz. 18 of the line, and 15 frigates, besides brigs and gun-boats. The afi^irs of Spain began at this time to assume pe- culiar interest with the people of England. Though in a state of complete vassalage to France, Buonaparte marched an army in the month of March, 1808, into the heart of Spain, and by a dexterous stratagem procured thft abdication of the royal family, whom he sent into exile, and placed his own brother Joseph upon the throne of Madrid. In this sad conjuncture of their affairs, the Spanish patriots who had flown to arms to repel the un- principled aggressions of France, applied to Great Britain for assistance, and troops were dispatched both to Portu- gal and Spain to aid the spirit of resistance which had so nobly manifested itself. Sir Arthur Wellesley, (now the Duke of Wellington) commanded the British forces in Portugal, and defeated General Junot, after a severe contest whfeh took place at Vimeria on the 21st of August ; on this occasion the French lost thirteen pieces of cannon, and 3000 men in killed, wounded, and prison- ers. Sir John Moore also received orders to enter Spain 356 YOUNG man's book op knowledge. in aid of the patriots, and landing his troops at Corunna, he advanced to Salamanca in the month of November, but not meeting with that cordial support from the Spa- niards which he was given to expect, and the French forces being powerfully augmented, the gallant general, after manoeuvring some time and exerting himself in vain to rouse the Spaniards to action, was compelled to retreat to Corunna, where being closely pressed by Marshal Soult, and unable to reimbark his troops, he prepared to make an attack upon the French army. As this brave officer was in the act of ordering up a detachment of his men to succor that part of the array which was engaged, he received a mortal wound from a cannon ball, and thus fell one of the ablest generals that our country could boast ; a man, who both in his professional and private character had acquired the admiration and esteem of all that knew him. The British parliament assembled on the 1 9th January, 1809, and early in the session, a most extraordinary in- terest was excited in the country, insomuch that for a time it took place of every other topic. Colonel Wardle having adverted to a system of corruption which he said had long prevailed in the military department, made a most pointed attack upon the Duke of York, who filled the office of commander-in-chief, charging him with having suflfered himself to be swayed by a kept mistress, whose name was Mary Anne Clarke, and who had car- ried on a traffic in commissions ; afiirming that Mrs. Clarke possessed the power of military promotion ; that she received pecuniary consideration ; and that the Duke of York pa:rticipated in the benefit arising from such consideration. The members of administration and crown lawyers took fire at these serious charges against one of the royal family, and not supposing it probable that such charges could be made good, in an evil hour they chal- lenged Colonel Wardle to the proof! During the pro- ceedings in this remarkable case, whidh occupied the greatest part of the months of February and March, 1809, and which drew fuller "hoifses than were almost ever known ; long and minute examinations were carried on, of persons of both sexes ; and disclosures made which might well astonish the country. The result was, thai HISTORY OP ENGLAND. 357 the Duke of York, finding the sense of the independent part of the country decidedly against him, thought it ex- pedient to resign his office of commander-in-chief, and thus terminate all further discussion. An expedition was fitted out by the British Ministry during this summer, which was long the object of na- tional expectation. About the beginning of May, pre- parations were made for fitting out the greatest armament that for a long period had issued from the ports of this island. Towards the end of July, an army of 40,000 men was collected, to be assisted by a fleet of 39 sail of the line, and 36 frigates, besides gun-boats, bomb-vessels, and small craft. The object of this expedition was to gain possession of the islands on the Dutch coast, and destroy the French ships of war, then lying in the river Scheldt. This formidable armament sailed on the 28th of July, and on the 1st of August invaded Flushing. A dreadful cannonade and bombardment ensued ; the garrison, con- sisting of 6000 men, surrendered prisoners of war ; pos- session was obtained of the islands of Walcheren and South Beveland, and thus terminated the success of this famous expedition. Its calamities indeed, are not so soon recounted. To the British troops that were left to keep possession of Walcheren, and block up the Scheldt, it proved a most disastrous enterprise. From their posi- tion in these low and marshy countries, they soon became sickly ; numbers found their grave there, and many more brought back chronic diseases, which long rendered the very name of Walcheren a subject of terror! After keeping possession of the island till the 23d of December, by which time nearly one half of the British troops left there were either dead or on the sick list, the place was completely evacuated, and thus terminated an expedition which, after a prodigious expense, totally disappointed the public hopes, and what was much worse, exposed the country to the derision of its enemies. The events of 1810, are not of sufficient interest to claim any very particular attention. The war upon the Peninsula was prosecuted with better success, and Lord Wellington began to distinguish himself as a General, whose military skill reflected honour on the country. In the month of March, Sir Francis Burdelt was brought to 353 votNG man's book 6f knowledge. account in the House of Commons for writing a political paper, in which he had " denied the power of that house to imprison the people of Enjjland," and avowing himself the writer of it, he was committed to the Tower, where he remained a prisoner till the parliament was prorogued. Sir Francis brought actions against the Speaker of the House of Commons for issuing his warrant ; against the Serjeant at Arms for executing it ; and against the Con- stables of the Tower for keeping him in custody, but he failed in each of them, on the plea of the legality of the waiTants. The close of the year 1810, was marked by the recur- rence of a domestic calamity, which. produced a change in the government that forms an era in the annals of the country. His Majesty, in consequence, as it is supposed, of deep affliction, excited by the death of his youngest daughter, the Princess Amelia, was again attacked by the mental malady under which he had formerly labour- ed ; and it was found necessary to supply the deficiency in the executive branch of government by a Regency, which was now vested in His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. The regency bill gave rise to considerable discussions in the House of Commons, and occupied its attention so long that it was not finally passed into a law till the 5th of February, 1811. In the mean time, the country was beginning to experience increasing difficulties in the way of its commerce. The fact of a real diminution of the value of Bank Notes in comparison of Bullion, at length became so notorious as to excitie alarm, and parliament was occupied with discussions upon the subject through the greatest part of the session, and pamphlets and vo- lumes were written to elucidate this difficult question, which after all that has been said and written, remains precisely where it before was. Among the domestic occurrences of this year, we may notice the second enumeration of the population of the Kingdom of Great Britain, and its general result. In 1801, the return had been 10,942,646 ; that of 1811, was 12,552,144, exhibiring an increase of 1,611,882, of which almost every town and district numbered had a propor- tionate share ; and when we reflect that these ten years HISTORY OF enolakd. 369 Were a time of war, the increase appears very remarkable. The office of Chancellor of the Exchequer, from the period of the dissolution of Lord Grenville's short admi- nistration, had been filled by Mr. Percival, who though not a first rate man in point of talents, was not deficient in application and industry, while in debate he sometimes rose considerably above mediocrity. As this gentleman was entering the lobby of the House of Commons on the 1 1th of May, 1812, about five in the evening, a person of the name of BelUngham, who had been waiting his arrival, fired a pistol at him, the ball of which entered his left breast and pierced his heart. He staggered, fell, and in a few moments expired. Nothing could surpass the consternation which prevailed in both houses of Par- liament at this catastrophe. The first impression was that a. conspiracy existed against the whole administra- tion; but when the panic had subsided, it was found that the act was merely in revenge of a supposed private injury. The commercial relations between Great Britain and America, had now, in consequence of our orders in coun- cil, been in a very critical state for several years, and the temper of the government of the United States, at the commencement of this year, (1812) remdered it manifest that a war between the two countries was inevitable. The spring passed, on the part of the Americans, in the discussion of various measures of preparation by the Congress, in which the war party displayed a manifest preponderance. An embargo was laid on all the shipping in the United States for the term of 90 days ; on the 1st of June, the President sent a long message to both houses of Congress, recapitulating the various acts of provocation received from England, and a few days afterwards, laid before them copies of the correspondence between Mr. Foster, and Mr. Munroe, the result of which was, that on the 18th of June, an Act was passed declaring the aetudl existcTice of war, between the United States and Great Britain. It is now proper to revert to the state of the war in the Peninsula. In the begiiming of the year 1811, Marshal 8oult having obtained considerable reinforcements, in- vested Olivenoa, and on the 27th of January^ after the 360 voUNG Man's book op knowledge. batteries had begun to play, the garrison consisting of 4,500 men, surrendered prisoners of war. The French army then besieged Badajos, which it pressed so closely, that on the 10th of March, the governor capitulated, and the garrison of 7000 surrendered prisoners of war. These events were a source of great chagrin to Lord Welling- ton, who, referring to them in one of his dispatches, says, " The Spanish nation has lost in "the course of two months, the fortresses of Fortosa, Olivenca, and Badajos, without any sufficient cause, while Marshal Soult, with a corps of troops not exceeding 20,000, besides the cap- ture of the two last places, has made prisoners and de- stroyed above 22,000 Spanish troops." But the tide of affairs from this time turned rapidly in favour of the Bri- tish arms. Lord Wellington, early in the spring of 1812, invested Ciudad Roderigo, and took it, making the gar- rison of 1700 men prisoners of war. The next object of the British general was Badajos, which he invested on both sides, and compelled it to surrender with a garrison of 6000 men. Soult on this, retreated towards Andalu- sia ; General Graham was dispatched in pursuit of him, and coming up with the French cavalry, he routed them with considerable loss. Those brilliant successes were followed up perseveringly throughout the whole of this campaign, and Lord Wellington may be regarded as having the whole of the Peninsula under his military care. It was, not, however, till late in the month of Ma^y, 1813, that Lord Wellington was enabled by the recovery of his sick, and the arrival of reinforcements from En- gland, to move from his winter quarters at Freynada, and march to Salamanca. On their approach, the French army retreated from the Tagus and Madrid, and on the 4th of June had evacuated Valadolid. Making a stand at Bengos, they evinced a disposition to defend the castle, but changing their purpose, they destroyed the fortifica- tions, and the whole army retreating through Bengos, marched towards the Ebro. Crossing that river on the 14th and 15th of June, they marched upon Vittoria. Here they mustered all their force, and made a formida- ble stand ; a severe action ensued, which ended in favour of the British, who drove the French from all their en- HISTOKT OF ENOtAND. 361 tienchments, and their retreat became so rapid that they were unable to carry off their artillery and bziggage, the whole of which, consisting of 151 pieces of cannon, and 415 waggons of ammunitiqn fell into the hands of the allies. Such was the battle of Yittoria, which added new laurels to the illustrious Gieneral. From this time the issue of the contest was no longer problematical The French retired by Pampeluna, and re-entered their own country into which the British army followed them. On the 25th February, 1814, Lord Wellington advanced through a strong country inter- sected with rivers, in the face of an active and vigilant foe, penetrating to the neighbourhood of Bourdeaux. In the mean time similar success had attended the arms of Russia, Austria, and Prussia, in the north of Europe, so that the fate of Napoleon became every day more omi- nous. The hostile armies penetrated to the heights of Paris, where the French army took up a strong defensive position, having 150 pieces of cannon ranged in line for the protection of the city. On the 30th of March an attack was made by the allies, and though the resistance was obstinate, the heights were carried. The losses of the French induced them to send out a flag of truce, pro- posing a cessation of hostilities. On the 11th April, a treaty between the allied powers and Buonaparte was signed at Paris ; the latter renounced the sovereignty of Prance and Italy, and consented to retire for the remain- der of his days, to the island of Elba, on the coast of Tuscany. Louis XVIII. who had for several years taken refuge in England, now returned to France, hoping to establish his hereditary claim to the throne of his ancestors. But not a year had elapsed before Napoleon Buonaparte waa again in the heart of France, and at the head of his de- voted troops. On the 26th February, 1815, he crossed the sea, under the shade of evening, from the island of Elba, and on the 1st of March anchored at the small port of Cannes, in Provence. With a handful of atten- dants he marched to Grenoble. Here the 7th regiment of the line marched out and joined him. The garrison opened its gates to him, and the magazines of the city were placed at his disposal. When intdligence of these 30 S62 YouNO man's boos of knowledge. things reached Paris, it threw the court into the utmost consternation, and they saw the necessity of providing for their safety by retiring into the Netherlands, first to Lisle and then to Ghent. In a few months, however, the combined armies were again in motion; they pro- ceeded to rendezvous in the Netherlands ; the battle of Waterloo ensued, and decided once more the destiny of Napoleon, who was sent to the island of St. Helena, ■where, after an exile of a few years, this ambitious war-- rior terminated his extraordinary career. CHAPTER XL EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY- 1492. This was a memorable year. The commer- cial enterprise of the Portuguese imparted a thirst for discoveries to the nations of Europe. A native of Genoa, Christopher Columbus, had long imagined that a western passage to the East Indies was practicable. After re- peated applications, and mortifying refusals from diffe- rent courts, he at length obtained the patronage of Fer- dinand and Isabella, of Spain. Columbus sailed from Spain, on Friday, the 3d of August, with a small fleet. On the 12th of October following, he discovered the Island of St. Salvador. This important result " laid the foundation for all the subsequent discoveries in Ame» rica, and, doubtless entitled Columbus to the honour of giving a name to the New World." The intrepid navi- gator, after some time spent in examining the country, and in amicable traffic with the natives, set sail on his return, and arrived safe in Spain, March 15th, 1493. His account of this great enterprise excited the astonish- ment of Europe, and opened a wide theatre for the skill of other adventurers. 1499. Americus Vespucius, a Florentine, accompanied EPITOME Ot AUERICAN HISTORf^. 363 Alonzo Ojeda, (an active officer, who sailed with Co- lumbus in his first voyage,) in another expedition to tha New World. The flattering account which he published on his return, had the effect, though with manifest injus- tice, of his name being given to the Continent. 1497. Under the patronage of King Henry VII. of England, John Cabot, and his son, Sebastian Cabot, commenced a voyage of discovery. They sailed in May, and on the 24th of June, discovered Newfoundland, then St John's, and continuing westerly, made the first dis- covery of the ContiJient of America. Its whole coast from Labrador to Florida, was ranged by these bold navigators. 1524. No discoveries were attempted by the French until the commencement of this year. For this purpose, Francis I. gave a commission to Verrazano, a Florentine. Having surveyed the coast from Florida to the 50th degree of North Latitude, Verrazano, in compliment to his employer, named the country New France. 1584. Sir Walter Raleigh entered Pamplico Sound, now in North Carolina, and proceeded from thence to Roanoke, an island near the mouth of Albemarle Sound.^ On his return to England, he gave a glowing description of its beauty and fertility. In allusion to her being un- married, Queen Elizabeth bestowed upon it the name of Virginia. 1602. Cape Cod was discovered by Captain Bartho- lomew Gosnold, of England. 1607. After several unsuccessful attempts to form settlements during a period of 115 years, Jamestown was permanently established. 1614. A fort was built by some Dutch adventurers at Albany, on Hudson's river. Thus commenced thatim- portant city. The following year a fort was built and settlements commenced by the Dutch on the Island of Manhattan, now New York. This city was called New Amsterdam, until the year 1644, when the English effected its conquest. Since that period its growth has been amazingly rapid ; it is evidently destined to become one of the first commercial cities in the civilised world. Captain John Smith sailed this year from England. The coast from Penobscot to Cape Cod was ranged 364 VOtfSG mam's Uoa& of KNOWLEfiOE. under his directions. He presented a map of the country to Prince Charles on his return to England, who named it New England. 1620. The Puritans landed at Plymouth. The motives which impelled this sect to leave England was the prospect of enjoying '' a purer worship, and a greater liberty of conscience." 1621. A league of friendship, commerce, and mutual defence, was entered into by the colony of Plymouth with Masassoit, the great Sachem of the neighbouring Indians. For a period of more than fifty years this treaty was strictly observed, until the breaking out of Philip's war. 1622. Virginia Colony experienced a cruel stroke. The Indians on the 22d of March butchered, almost in the same instant, 347 of the colony, men, women, and children. 1623. A number of emigrants from England arrived in the river Piscataqua, and began two settlements ; one at a place called Little Harbour, the other at a place now called Dover : these were the first settlements in New Hampshire. ■* 1624. By an act of King James I, the London Com- pany which had settled Virginia was dissolved. 1626. Virginia Colony was brought more imme- diately under the direction of the crown, by Charles I. successor of James I. The colony was subjected to many grievances from the arbitrary treatment of this monarch. 1628. The colony of Massachusetts Bay iti New England, was founded. 1630. One thousand five hundred people arrived at Charlestown: owing, however, to a deadly pestilence with which the settlement was soon after attacked, the governor and several of the planters removed to Shaw- mut ; this place they named Boston, 1632. A -patent was granted by Charles I. to Lord Baltimore, by which a tract of country on the Chesa- peake Bay was conveyed to his lordship. This he named Maryland, in honour of Henrietta-Maria, daughter of Henry the Great of France. 1663. Several Plymouth adventurers sent a vessel up EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 365 Connecticut river with building materials, and erected a trading-house at Windsor. 1637. The Pequots, a tribe of Indians, who had commenced war with the colonists, were entirely van- quished at the great swamp in Fairfield. 1638. Newhaven was settled by the English. Its former name was duinnapiak. ■ 1639. A charter was obtained from the crown by Si? Ferdiaando Gorges of all the land from Piscataqua to Sagadahoc. This territory was called the Province of Maine. After an interval of about twelve years, it was, by the request of the people of Maine, taken under the jurisdiction of Massachusetts. 1643. The articles of confederation for uniting the colonies of Massachusetts, Plymouth, Connecticut, and Newhaven, were signed May 19th. 1662. A charter of incorporation was granted by King Charles II. April 2, to the coloniste of Connecticut. They were designated The Governor and Company oj the English Colony of Connecticut, in New England, in America. 1664. The colonies of New- York, New Jersey, and Delaware, were granted by King Charles II. to his brother the Duke of York and Albany. Accordingly an expedition was fitted out under the command of Colonel Richard Nichols, who appeared before Manhattan, and summoned the Dutch governor, Stuyvesant, to surrender. On the 27th of August, being unprepared for defence, he capitulated, and the English became masters of the whole country. 1675. King Philips war commenced this year. New England suffered severely in this contest. 1676. A finishing stroke was given on the 12th of August, to the hostilities of the Indians, by the death of Philip. New England lost six hundred men, had twelve or thirteen towns destroyed, and six hundred houses burnt. " Every eleventh family was houseless, and every eleventh soldier had sunk to his grave." 1677. Acontroversy relativeto the province of Maine, which was warmlj' disputed by the colony of Massachu- setts, and the heirs of Sir Ferdinando Gorges was finaljy settled in England, by which the colony was adjuged 366 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. to the heirs of Sir Ferdinando, The title was then pur- chased by Massachusetts for the sum of 1,2001. The territory was a part of Massachusetts from that time until 1820. 1679. New Hampshire was separated from the juris- diction of Massachusetts, by order of Charles II. 1681. In consequence of services done, and debts due to Admiral Penn, King Charles II. granted to Wil- liam Penn, the son of the Admiral, the territory of Penn- sylvania. From his judicious measures, the colony en- joyed an unexampled share of prosperity. The name of William Penn will descend unsullied to posterity as a philanthropist and " an honest man." 1692. Danvers, then a part of Salem, Massachusetts, was disgraced by an implicit belief in the power of witch- craft. This mad delusion rapidly spread to different parts of New England. Twenty persons suffered death for their supposed agency with the Prince of Darkness, 150 were imprisoned, and upwards of 200 were accused. Reason at length prevailed, and triumphed over these mad proceedings — proceedings which caused anguish to many an upright heart, and frightened the colony from all sense of propriety. 1697. A treaty was concluded at Ryswick, in Ger- many, by which mutual restitution was agreed upon by France and England of all the countries, ports, and co- lonies taken by each party during the war. Previous to its conclusion, the French, in conjunction with the In- dians, committed sanguinary atrocities on the unfortunate settlers in different American colonies. 1707. The French and Spaniards were repulsed in an attempt to annex Carolina to Florida. 1710. A large number of emigrants from Germany, settled on the Roanoke, in Albemarle and Bath counties. 1712. The Corees and Tuscaroras, with other Indian tribes, formed a plot to massacre the whole number of these settlers ; and they so far succeeded as to butcher in a single night 107 of them. 1713. A treaty of peace was concluded at Utrecht between England and France. One stipulation was, that " the subjects of France, inhabiting Canada, and other places, shall hereafter give no hindrance or moles- YOUNG man's book OF KNOWLEDGE. 367 tation to the Five Nations, or to the other nations of In- dians who are friends to Great Britain." 1719. The charter of Carolina was declared by the King's privy council to have been forfeited ; and from this time until the American revolution, it continued under the royal protection. 1 722. A general war was commenced by the Indians, who had been irritated to this measure by the intrigues of the French Jesuits. 1725. A termination was put to these hostilities, during which great distress had been inflicted on the Eastern settlements. 1733. George II. of England began the settlement of Georgia. 1740. War having been declared by England against Spain, General Oglethorpe marched at the head of 2000 men for Florida, took the forts of St. ESego and Moosci and invested St. Augustine. After sustaining great loss, he was compelled to raise the siege. 1742. The Spaniards, in retaliation, invadgd Geor- gia ; but the expedition completely failed in its object. 1744. Louisburg was captured from the French by troops from New England, under the command of Sir WilUam Pepperell. This town was situated in the island of Cape Breton, and was called " The Gibraltar of America." The French expended five millions and a half of dollars on its fortifications. 1746. The French government stimulated by a spirit of revenge, for the loss of Louisburg, fitted out a fleet of forty ship>s«f war, and forty-six transports, with three thousand five hundred men, and forty thousand stand of arms for the use of the Canadian Indians. Its object was the recapture of Cape Breton, and the destruction of the colonies. The fleet however met with a delay, and its aim was frustratsd by the damages it received in a storm. 1748. Peace weis concluded between France and England at Aix-la-Chapelle, to the great joy of the co- lonies. 1756. Owing to the encroachments of the French on the frontiers of the American colonies, a declaration of war was issued against France by Gieorge II. George 368 EFITOMK OF AMERICAN HISTORT. Washington, who had just attained his majority, gavp proofs on this occasion of an enterprise and perseverance which were the preludes of still more important services, 1758. The expeditions of the English in America had been marked by disaster ; a change, however, having taken place in the Administration, the celebrated Lord Chatham being placed at the head of the Cabinet, a succession of victories added lustre to the arms qf Gtreat Britain. 1759. On the 13th of September a bloody contest took place on the plains of Abraham, between the Eng- lish and French armies, under the command of General Wolfe and General Montcalmi The French sustained a loss of one thousand men killed, and one thousand pri- soners. The killed and wounded of the English did not exceed six hundred. Wolfe and Montcalm fell in the conflict. 1761. Virginia and South Carolina were invaded by the Cherokees ; they were completely defeated : peace was immediately sued for by these savages, and on safe conditions terms were granted. 1763. By a definitive treaty. Nova Scotia, Canada, the Isle of Cape Breton, and all other islands in the gulf and river St. tiawrence, were ceded to the British crown by the French government. 1774. The Shaking Quakers arrived from England, and formed a spttlement at Niskayuna, near Albany. 1775, An engagement took place at Lexington, Mas- sachusetts, between the English troops and colonists, in consequence of the oppressive measures of the English government. But there is a limit to tyranny, and the acts of oppression are wisely ordained to fall with tenfold weight on' its' own head. Notwithstanding the almost prophetic warnings of Lord Chatham, a blirfd and head- strong policy' urged the Administration of Britain to the beginning of a warfare, the ending of which Providence had designed should be crowned with "glory, tt was, then, at Lexington the torch of liberty was first lighted"; and it is remarkable that the stamp on a blank piece of paper, and the duty on shrivelled leaves, called tea, should be among the first causes that led to the ultimate independence of the American colonies. But to return. FPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 369 " General Gage, the King's governor of Massachusetts, learning that a large quantity of military stores had been deposited by the provincials at Concord, detached Lieu- tenant Colonel Smith, and Major Pitcaim, with eight hundred grenadiers to destroy them. On their arrival at I/exington, on the morning of the 19th of April, seventy of the militia, who had hastily assembled upon an alarm, were under arms upon the parade. Eight of these were without provocation killed, and several wounded. From Lexington, the detachment proceeded to Concord, and destroyed the stores. After killing several of the militia who came out to oppose them, they retreated to Lexing- ton with some loss, the Americans firing upon them from behind walls, hedges, and buildings. Fortunately for the British, here Lord Percy met them, with a reinforce- ment of nine hundred men, some marines, and two field- pieces. Still annoyed by the provincials, they continued their retreat to Banker's Hill, in Charlestown, and the day following crossed over to Boston. The British lost, in kUled and wounded, during their absence, two hundred and seventy-three. The loss of the Americans amounted to eighty-eight killed, wounded, and missing." Oa the 17lh of June was fought the battle of Biinkei's HilL The Americans were obliged to retire, not, however, with- out inflicting a loss on the British of two hundred and twenty-six killed, and twenty-eight wounded. The Americans lost one hundred and thitty-nine killed : the wounded and missing amounted to three hundred and fourteen. By the inhumanity of General Gage, Charles- town was reduced to a heap of ashes during the en- gagement. The battle of Banker's Hill inspired th» Americans with confidence. On the 10th of May, (he second continental congress met at Philadelphia, and George Washington was unanimously selected by con- gress to head the opposition which was now determined upon against England. With singular modesty, this illustrious man exclaimed, " I do not think myself equal to the command with which I am honoured." On tha 10th of September one thousand American troops landed at St. John's, the first British post in Canada : General Schuyler, the commander, found it advisable to return to the Isle aux Noix. twelve miles south of St. John's. Th« 370 TouNG man's book of knowledge. health of General Schuyler having suffered, the command devolved on General Montgomery, who in a few days returned to the investment of St. John's. This important post surrendered to him on the 3d of November. Five hundred regulars and one hundred Canadians became prisoners to the provincials. Thirty-nine pieces of can- non, seven mortars, and five hundred stand of arms fell into the hands of the victors. Immediately after this affair, Montreal capitulated, without resistance, to this enterprising general. Gluebec was next menaced. On the 1st of December the siege commenced, and continued for nearly a month to little purpose. An escalade was now determined upon, which proved unsuccessful. The brave Montgomery fell while attempting to force a barrier. 1776. General Arnold, who had been despatched by Washington in order to reduce Gluebec, finding his forces inadequate, was obliged to retire. The Americans hav- ing been compelled to relinquish one post after another, had wholly evacuated Canada by the 18th of June. Early in the spring of this year, General Washington conceived the bold plan of expelling, by direct assault, the British army from Boston. The English were com- pletely out-manoeuvred, and on the 17th of March, the British troops under Lord William Howe, sailed for Ha- lifax. The rear-guard of the British was scarcely out of the town when Washington entered it on the other side, with colours displayed, drums beating, and all the forms of victory and triumph. He was received by the inhabitants with demonstrations of joy and gratitude. Sixteen months had the people suffered the distresses of hunger, and the outrages of an insolent soldiery. An attempt was made by General Clinton and Sir Peter Parker, in the months of June and July, to destroy the fort on Sullivan's Island, near Charleston, S.C. The British, after an action of upwards of ten hours, with their ships nearly wrecks, and a loss of two hundred killed and wounded, were defeated. The Americans lost but ten killed, and twenty-two wounded. This victory rescued the southern states for two years and a half from the calamities of war. On the fourth of July, the thirteen confederate colonies EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 371 declared themselves Free and Ind&pendent, under the name of the TAirteen United States of America ; and dissolved their allegiance to the British crown. On the 27th of August, the American army, in and near New York, amounted to upwards of seventeen thousand men. A strong party was encamped near Brooklyn, on Long Island, under the command of General Sullivan. They were attacked by the British, commanded by Sir Henry Clinton, Percy, and Cornwallis, and defeated. In this action the Americans lost upwards of one thousand men, the British scarcely four hundred. On the 12th of Oc- tober, Washington having evacuated New York, it was entered by the English. On the 28th of September, Washington was attacked on White Plains, by Generals Clinton and Hiester. The action was indecisive. Hav- ing recrossed the Delaware into New Jersey, Washington surprised and took 1000 Hessians prisoners at Trenton. He also attacked a detachment of the British army at Princeton. Sixty of the enemy were killed, and three hundred made prisoners in this affair. 1777. Washington at the commencement of the campaign in this year, had little more than seven thou- sand men under his command. On the 11th of Septem- ber was fought the battle of Brandywine. After an ob- stinate engagement the Americans were defeated with the loss of three hundred killed, and six hundred wound- ed. The British stated their loss at less than one hun- dred killed, and four hundred wounded. General Howe entered Philadelphia on the 26th of September. In an attack on Germantown on the 4th of October, the Ame- ricans were repulsed with the loss of two hundred killed, six hundred wounded, and four hundred prisoners ; that of the British was estimated at one hundred killed, and five hundred wounded. Notwithstanding this disastrous reverse, the plan of Washington's attack gave satisfaction to Congress, who applauded the bravery displayed by his army. On the 16th of August, a party of troops called the Green Mountain Boys, and a body of New Hampshire militia, under the ordere of General Stark, attacked a detachment of the British army, consisting of 500 Eng- lish, and 100 Indians, at Bennington, in Vermont. Co- 372 TOUNO ham's book of knowledge. lonel Baum, the commander of the British forces was slain, and the Americans obtained a decisive victory. On the 17th of October, the British army, commanded by General Burgoyne, after unparalleled sufferings, capitu- lated to General Gates at Saratoga. It consisted of five thousand seven hundred effective men. Soon after this important event, a formal treaty of alliance and com- merce was concluded between France and America, upon highly advantageous terms to the United States. 1779. On the 16th of July, Stoney Point, forty miles north of New York, on the Hudson, was attacked by General Wayne, "who with a stroiig detachment of active infantry, set out toward? the place at noon. His march of fourteen miles over high mountains, through deep morasses, and difficult defiles, was accomplished by eight o'clock in the evening. At the distance of a mile from the point General Wayne halted, and formed his men into two columns, putting himself at the head of the right. Both columns were directed to march in order and silence, with unloaded muskets and fixed baj'onets. At midnight they arrived under the walls of the fort. An unexpected obstacle now presented itself: the deep morass, which covered the works, was at this time over- flowed by the tide. The English opened a tremendous fire of musketry, and cannon loaded with grape shot ; but neither the inundated morass, nor a double palisade, nor the storm of fire that was poured upon them, could resist the impetuosity of the Americans : they opened their way with the bayonet, prostrated whatever opposed them, scaled the fort, and the two columnts met in the centre of the works. The English lost upwards of six hundred men in killed and prisoners." For boldness of design, and rapidity of execution, this was decidedly the most energetic enterprise which occurred in the history of the war. General Sullivan, at the head of five or six thousand men, marched in the country up the Susquehanna, and attacked the Indians: the savages fought bravely, but were overpowered. The country was laid waste, and forty villages were consumed. 1780. On the 11th of May, after a gallant defence, the American army capitulated at Giarleston. Five EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORT. 373 thousand men, and five hundred pieces of artillery, fell into the hands of the British. In the month of July, General Sumpter was extremely active in South Carolina. In one instance he reduced the Prince of Wale^ regiment from two hundred and seventy-eight to nine. A hloody engsigement took place on the 16th of Au- gust, at CJamden, one hundred and twenty miles north- west of Charleston. Owing to the cowardly conduct of the Virginia militia, the British forces commanded by Lord Rawdon, obtained a complete victory. The Ame- ricans, under General Gat^ had between six and seven hundred killed, and the wounded and prisoners amounted to one thousand four hundred. The British stated their loss to be only three hundred and twenty-five. A squadron of seven sail of the line, five frigates, and five smaller armed vessels, with several transports, and six thousand men, under the command of Lieutenaut- General Count de Rochambeau, arrived at Rhode Island, on the 10th of July. This timely assistance from France was received with great joy. Major-General Arnold having basely entered into ne- gotiations with Sir Henry CUnton, apian was concocted for the surprise and capture of the important fortress of West Point, on the 21st of September. Major Andre, who acted the part of spy on this occasion, was detected at Tarrytown, by three militia soldiers, and executed on the 2d of October ; his fate excited great sympathy. Arnold, as the price of his treachery, received ten thou- sand pounds sterling, and the commission of Brigadier- General in the British army. 1781. The whole Pennsylvania line of troops, to the amount of one thousand three hundred men, revolted at Morristown. Want of pay, clothing, and provision, was the cause of this mutiny. Sir Henry Clinton endeavour- ed to. seduce them into the British army. To the honour of these men, not one deserted the standard of liberty. Congress redressed their grievances, and they again cheerfully joined in the deliverance of their country. Arnold having left New York with a number of sfmed vessels, and 1600 men, committed great devasta- tions in the South. At the request of General Washing- 31 374 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. ton, a French squadron from Rhode Island was sent to cut off Arnold's retreat. The French and English fleets met off the Capes of Virginia. The battle terminated in favour of the English, and Arnold narrowly escaped from the punishment he so richly merited by his treason. A detachment of five hundred Americans under Ge- neral Morgan, and upwards of one thousand British, commanded by General Tarleton, came to action at the Cowpens. The English lost upwards of one hundred killed, more than five hundred prisoners, two pieces of artillery, twelve standards, eight hundred muskets, thir- ty-five baggeige waggons, and one hundred dragoon horses. The Americans had no more than twelve killed, and sixty wounded. On the 8th of March a general engagement took place at Guilford House, between the English commanded by Cornwallis, and the continentals under General Greene. The Americans were defeated with the loss of four hun- dred in killed and wounded. General Green after this repulse led his troops into South Carolina, with the de- sign of attacking the strong military post of Camden. On the 2dth of April, Lord Rawdon commenced the en- gagement, but owing to a regiment of veterans giving waj' to an inferior force, the Americans, after a sangui- nary struggle, were obliged to retreat. On the 30th of September, the combined French and American armies, amounting to twelve thousand men, moved upon Yorktown and Gloucester: the Count de Grasse also proceeded up to the mouth of York river, for the purpose of preventing Lord Cornwallis from effecting a retreat, or receiving supplies. Washington's heavj'' ordnance having arrived, the siege was commenced with unparalleled vigour. On the memorable 19th of October, victory smiled on the American arms, and the whole of the British army, amounting to more than seven thou- sand men were made prisoners of war. A splendid park of artillery, consisting of one hundred and sixty pieces of brass ordnance was among the trophies of the day. The submission of the Royal army is represented as having been impressive and affecting. '' The road through which the captive army marched was lined with spectators, French and American. On one side the com- EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 376 mander in chief, surrounded with his suite and the A.me- rican stafi] took his station ; on the other side opposite to him, was the Count de Rochambeau, in the like manner attended. The captive army approached, moving slowly in column, with grace and precision. Universal silence was observed amidst the vast concourse, and the utmost decencyprevailed." The event was celebrated throughout the United States with heartfelt demonstrations of joy, and the 30th of December was appointed as a day of national thanksgiving. After this glorious conquest, the continuance of war was only indicated by a few light skirmishes. 1782. On the 4th of March, a motion was made in the Commons of England, " that the House would con- sider as enemies to his majesty and to the country, all those who should advise, or attempt the further prosecu- tion of offensive war, on the continent of North America." 1783. The definitive treaty of peace between Great Britain and America was signed on the 30th of Septem- ber. The army of the United States was disbanded on the 30th of November. Washington, on this interesting occasion, addressed his fellow-soldiers in the following affectionate language: "Being now to conclude these his last public orders, to take his ultimate leave in a short time of the military character, and to bid a final adieu to the armies he has so long had the honour to command, he can only again oSei in their behalf his recommenda- tions to their grateful country, and his prayer to the Gtod of armies. " May ample justice be done them here, and may the choicest favour, both here and hereafter, attend those, who, under the divine auspices, have secured innumerable blessings for others. With these wishes, and this bene- diction, the commander in chief is about to retire from service. The curtain of separation will soon be drawn, and the military scene will be closed for ever." On the 23d of December, Washington resigned in the hall of congress, his commission as commander in chief of the American army, and concluded his speech in the following manner : " I consider it an indispensable duty to close the last solemn act of my official life, by com- mending the interests of our dearest country to the pro- 376 TouNG man's book of knowlepse. tection of Almighty God, and those who have the super- intendence of them to his holy keeping. Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action ; and bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders I have long acted, I here offer my commission, and take my leave of all the employments of public life." Congress, upon accepting his commission, through President Mifflin, expressed their high sense of the inva- luable services rendered to his country. The President concluded his speech in the following impressive words : " We join you in commending the interests of our dearest country to the protection af Almighty God, beseeching Him to dispose the hearts and minds of its citizens to im- prove the opportunity afforded them of becoming a happy and respectable nation. And for you, we address to Him our earnest prayers, that a life so beloved, may be fostered with all His care ■ that your days may be as happy as they have been illustrious ; and that He will finally give you that reward which this world cannot give." Never was more solemnity observed in any assembly. This act, so full of disinterestedness and true greatness, shed a halo of glory around the head of Washington. 1784. The population of the United States at this period, did not exceed three millions two hundred and fifty thousand. 1 786. In consequence of the disorganised state of the general government, tumultuous assemblies of the people took place in some of the States. An armed force, under General Lincoln subdued the spirit of opposition in Mas- sachusetts, and shortly after order was generally restored. 1787. The commerce of the United States exhibited a remarkable revival. Her intercourse with England was on a most extensive scale ; and from France and her dependencies, the imports amounted to two millions and a hajf of dollars, and her exports to five millions of dollars. 1789. General Washington was inducted into the office of President of the United States. 1791. On the 4th of March, by consent of Congress^ Vermont became one of the United States. General St, Glair was defeated in battle with the Id SFITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 377 dians, near the Miami, in Ohio. His force consisted of one thousand five hundred men, that of the Indians about the same number. The Americans sustained a severe loss : thirtj-eight comiaissiohed officers were killed in the field, and five hundred and ninety-three non-com- missioned officers and privates were slain eind missing. No estimate could be formed of the loss of the Indians. 1792. Party spirit ran extremely high. The policy of government adopted by Washington, and his friends in the cabinet, was violently assailed, and a fixed oppo- sition was organised. By act of Congress, Kentucky was admitted into the Union as a State, on the 1st of June. Preparations were hastoied by the President, during the recess of Congress, for a vigorous prosecution of the war with the Indians. Such small inducements, how- ever, were presented to engage in the service, that a suf- ficient number of recruits could not be raised to authorise an expedition against them dpring the present year. 1793. Washington, contrary to his wishes, was again elected to the presiden^ieil chair of state. Mr. Adams was re-elected vice-president. On the declaration of war by France against England, a strong desire existed in the United States of making common cause with the French repubhc against Great Britain. By the advice of his cabinet, a proclamation of neutrality was issued on the 22d of April. This pro- ceeding gave great oflFence to the opposition party, but on the meeting of congress in December, the proclamation of neutrality was approved by them. 1794. Mr. Jefierson, the secretary of state, resigned his office on the last day of December, 1793, and was succeeded by the then attorney-general, Edmund Ran- dolph. A resolution was passed during the session, to provide a navaj force of six frigates, four of forty-four, and two pf thirty-six guns, for the protection of the com- merce of the United States, against the Algerine cor- sairs. A law was also passed, prohibiting the carrying on of the Slave Trade from the ports of America. General Wayne, with a force of nine hundred men, attacked the Indians, August 20th, on the banks of the Miami. Although the Indians had two thousand wair 31* 378 YOUNG man's book of knowledge riors, a complete victory was gained over them. A ge- neral war with the Six Nations, and all the tribes north- west of the Ohio, was preveilted by this event. An insurrection broke out in Pennsylvania, dissatis faction having been created by the laws enacted by con- gress, laying duties on spirits distilled in the tjnited States. The insurgents laid down their arms on the approach of a body of militia, under Governor Lee, of Maryland. Eighteen of the insurgents were taken and tried for treason, but not convicted. 1795. Colonel Hamilton resigned the office of secre- tary of the treasury. — Mr. Jay concluded an advanta- geous treaty with Great Britain, and prevented a war between the two countries, which for some time had ap- peared as unavoidable. — Treaties were also concluded with the Dey of Algiers ; with the Miamis in the West, and with Spain, all highly advantageous to the United States. 1796. Tennessee was admitted by Congress, into the Union as a State, on the 1st of June. After a protracted debate of seven weeks, on the sub- ject of the treaty with Great Britain, and for the purpose of making the necessary arrangements for the same, a majority of only three was in favour of the resolutions. General Washington published a valedictory address to his countrymen, fraught with the lessons of wisdom, and breathing a spirit of the most exalted patriotism for America. 1797. Mr. Adams was declared by both houses of Congress, to be elected President of the United States. 1798. War with France was fully anticipated, Mr. Adams having received intelligence that the French re- public had announced its determination to General Pinckney, not to receive another minister from the United States, until after the redress of grievances, &c." ; Con- gress was convened on the 15th of June, and the Presi- dent, warmed by a true sense of independence, urged Congress " to repel this indignity of the French govern- ment, by a course which shall convince that government and the world that we are not a degraded people, humi- liated under a colonial spirit of fear, and a sense of infe- riority, fitted to be the miserable instruments of foreign EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 379 influence, and regardless of national honour, character, and interest." A desire for peace was still retained by the President, envoys extraordinary were appointed to the French republic to carry into effect the pacific dispo- tions of the American government. The mission failed — injuries had been inflicted on the commerce of the United States, and measures were promptly adopted to repel the threatenings of the French. The army was augmented, and General Weishington was appointed commander in chief. Overtures of a pacific nature were indirectly com- municated by the French Giovernment to the President, negotiations were commenced, and a treaty of peace was concluded at Paris, soon after which the provisional army in America was disbanded. 1799. General "Washington expired on the 14th of December, at his seal, Mount Vernon, in Virginia. His loss was lamented with a sincerity of which there is not a parallel in history. 1800. The seat of government was transferred from Philadelphia to the city of Washington, in the district of Columbia. 1801. Mr. Jefferson was elected President, and Mr. Burr, Vice-President, of the United States. 1802. By act of Congress, Ohio was admitted as an independent State into the Union. 1804. General Hamilton was mortally wounded in a duel with Colonel Burr, the Vice-President of the Uni- ted States. Mr. Jefferson was re-elected President, and George Clinton, of New York, Vice-President of the United States. A treaty of peace was negotiated by Colonel Lear, be- tween Tripoli and the United States ; the Tripolitan and American prisoners were exchanged: the Pacha had given to him the sum of sixty thousand dollars. 1805. Michigan became a distinct territorial govern- ment of the United States. Colonel Burr was detected in the formation of a pro- ject for revolutionizing the territory west of the Allegha- nies — of establishing an independent empire in that re- gion, of which New Orleans was to be the capital, and himself the chief. For this daring scheme he was brought 380 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. to trial at Richmond on a charge of treason : no overt act being proved against him in the state of Virginia, he was permitted to go at large. 1806. The ports and rivers from the Elbe, a river in Germany, to Brest, a seaport of France, were by an order in council of the British government, issued on the 16th of May, declared to be in a state of blockade. The " Berlin decre^' was issued in November by Napoleon Buonaparte, by which all the British islands were de- clared to be in a state of blockade, and all intercourse with them was prohibited. This act was a flagrant dis- regard of the law of nations : it violated the treaty be- tween the United States and France, and had the direct tendency of crippling the commerce of America : then followed the retaliatory order of council of the British government, prohibiting all coasting trade with France. In prosecution of the right of search, an attack was made by the British frigate Leopard, of 60 guns, upon the American frigate Chesapeake, off the capes of Vir- ginia. Three men were killed, and sixteen wounded, on board the Chesapeake. Commodore Barron took from her the men claimed ais deserters. This unprovoked attack caused the President to issue a proclamation, or- dering all British armed vessels to leave the waters of the United States, and prohibiting them to enter until satisfaction for the attack on the Chesapeake should be made by the British government. Appropriations were made by Congress for putting the country in a complete state of defence, and on the 22d of December an act was passed, laying an embargo on all vessels within the juris- diction of the United States. The English government issued their Orders in Coun- cil, in retaliation for the Berlin Decree. These orders declared France and her allies, all nations at war with Great Britain, and all places from which the British flag is excluded, under the same restrictionSj in point of trade and navigation, as if the same were in a state of blockade. The Milan Decree followed the promulgation of the Or- ders in Council, by which Buonaparte declared every vessel denationalised which shall have submitted to a search by a British ship, and every vessel a good prize which shall sail to or from Great Britain, or any of its cplonies, or countries, occupied by British troops. EPITOSIE Of AMERICAN BISTORT. 3S1 The embargo having failed in its intended effect on France and England, Congress on the 1st of March, interdicted, by law, all trade and intercourse with these , nations. 1809. According to the form prescribed by the Con- stitution, Mr. Madison was inducted into the office of President of the United States during this year. The restrictions of commerce pressed heavily on the merchants of America. The war between England and France was carried on with the most bitter rancour. The rights of the United States were trampled upon by the belligerents, and its citizens seemed determined to suffer no further aggressions. They had nearly adopted the resolution of an appeal to arms with the offending parties. 1810. The " Kambouillet Decre^' was issued by Bo- naparte on the 23d of March, which forbade French vessels entering the ports of the United States. AU American vessels and cargoes arriving in any of the ports of France, or of countries occupied by French troops, were ordered to be seized and condemned. Con- gress passed an act, on the 1st of March, excluding British and French armed vessels from the waters of the United States ; but providing, that if either of the above nations should modify its edicts before the 3d of March, 1811, so that they should cease to violate neutral com- merce, of which fact the President was to give notice by proclamation, and the other nation should not, within three months after, pursue a similar step, commercial in- tercourse might be renewed, but not -with the latter. This ultimately led to the revocation of the Berlin, Milan, and Rambouillet decrees, and on the 2d of November the President issued his proclamation, declaring that inter- course between the United States and France might be renewed. 1811. In the month of May an engagement took place between the American frigate President, Captain Rogers, and the British sloop of war, Little Belt, Captain Bingham. It was satisfactorily proved that Captain Bingham fired the first gun without provocation. The Little Belt lost several men, and sustained much damage in her rigging. The President in his message to Congress on the 5th 382 ¥oi]Na man's book of itNowLEOfiz. of November, alluded to the probability of a war with Great Britain. That nation rigorously executed her orders in council, and no symptoms were ■visible of their speedy relaxation. " Great Britain," said the President, " has given evidence of her inflexibility in trampling on rights which no independent nation can relinquish ; Con- gress will feel the duty of putting the United States into an armour and an attitude demanded by the crisis, and corresponding with the national spirit and expectations. ' Agreeable to this resolution, bills passed Congress pre' paratory to a state of hostilities. On the 7th of November was fought the battle of " 7H,ppactMwe" near a branch of the Wabash, between an army under General Harrison, and a large body of Indians, in which, after a severe action, the latter sus- tained a defeat. 1812. Louisiana was admitted into the Union as a sovereign State. War was declared against Great Bri- tain on the 4th of June. General Hull, with an army of two thousand five hundred men, surrendered his whole force to General Brock, at Detroit, without a battle. He was tried by a court-martial, and his name was ordered to be struck from the rolls of the American army. The American frigate Constitution, Captain Hull, Captured the British frigate Guerriere, Captain Dacres. The Guerriere sustained so much damage that she was set on fire and burnt, while the Constitution received so little injury, that she was ready for action the next day. The loss of the Constitution was seven killed and seven ti/ounded : that of the Guerriere fifteen killed, and sixty- three wounded. A detachment of one thousand men from the American army crossed the river Niagara, and attacked the British on Queenstown heights ; they were ultimately repulsed by the English, and obliged to surrender. During the engagement, the British General, Brock, was mortally wounded. His Majesty s brig Frolic, of 22 guns, was captured on the 17th October, by the American sloop of war, Wasp — a vessel much inferior in force. The English fired as their vessel rose, so that their shot was either EPITOME OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 383 thrown away, or touched only the riggmg of the Ameri- cans : the Wasp, on the contrary, fired as she sunk, and every time struck the hull of her antagonist. The action continued forty-three minutes. The loss on board the Frolic was thirty killed, and fifty wounded, on board the Wasp five were killed, and five slightly wounded. The Poictiers, Captain Beresford, of seventy-four guns, cap- tured both vessels the next day. On the 25th of October, the United States frigate, Commodore Decatur, of forty-four guns, captured the Macedonian, of forty-nine guns, and three hundred men, off the Western Isles. The Macedonian lost thirty-six killed, and seventy-eight wounded. On board the United States, seven only were killed, and five wounded. An action was fought off St. Salvador, on the 29th December, between the Constitution, Commodore Bain- bridge, and the British frigate Java, of 3S guns, com- manded by Captain Lambert. The engagement con- tinued nearly two hours, when the Java struck. Her commander was mortally vrounded, sixty of her crew were killed, and one hundred and twenty wounded. The loss of the Constitution was nine killed, and twenty-five wounded. Commodore Bainbridge finding his prize in- capable of being brought in, burnt her on the 1st of Ja- nuary. 1813. The commencement of this year was marked by a sanguinary action between a detachment of the north-western army under General Winchester, of eight hundred men, and a British and Indian force, command- ed by General Proctor, amounting to one thousand five hundred men. This affair took place at the river Raisin. The loss of the Americans was severe, and the gallant few who surrendered were inhumanly massacred by the tomahawks and scalping knives of the Indians. In jus- tice to General Proctor, this bloody act was perpetrated contrary to his express stipulations. A sharp action occurred off the coast of South Ame- rica, between the Hornet, Captain Lawrence, and the British sloop of war. Peacock, Captain Peake. Al- though the engagement lasted but fifteen minutes, the Peacock struck her flag, being then in a sinking state. Notwithstanding^ the utmost efforts of the Hornet's crev 384 vouNG man's book of knowledge. in removing the vanquished, nine British sailors went down in the prize. The killed and wounded on board the Peacock wore estimated at upwards of fifty : the Hornet received but a slight injury. Mr. Madison entered, March 4th, upon his second term of office, as President of the United States. On the 27th March, a successful attack was made by General Dearborn upon York, the capital of Upper Ca- nada. In killed, wounded, and prisoners, the British lost seven hundred and fifty men : the Americans about three hundred in killed and wounded. The British blockaded the Chesapeake Bay ; and their troops made predatory excursions to Havre de Grace, Georgetown, &c. Much property was plundered and destroyed, and several villages were burnt.^Th'e Americans captured Fort George, in Canada. — One thousand British attacked Sackett's Harbour, and after considerable loss, were compelled to retire. The British frigate Shannon, and the American fri- gate Chesapeake, came to action on the 1st of June, off Boston harbour. While in the act of summoning his boarders, a musket ball entered the body of the gallant Captain Lawrence, of the Chesapeake, and he fell. Up- on being taken below, he issued his last memorable order, "Don't give up the ship" The British boarders, however, after a desperate and bloody struggle, succeeded m hoisting the British flag. Their loss was twenty-three killed, and fifty wounded : the Chesapeake sustained a heavy loss, having no less thaii seventy killed, and eighty-three wounded. On the 14th of June, the Argus of eighteen guns, was captured by the British sloop of war, Pelican, of twenty guns. The Argus had six killed, and seventeen wound- ed : the Pelican had but three killed, and four wounded. In an engagement on the 5th of June between the British brig Boxer, and the Enterprise, the former surren- dered, after the battle had continued about half an hour. Both commanders were killed during the conflict, and were interred with military honours at Portland. On the 10th of September, the American fleet obtained a splendid and decisive victory over that of the British, on Lake Erie. In this contest the Americans had twen- KPITOMB OF AMERICAN BISTORT. 386 tj -seven killed, and ninety wounded. Six hundred pri- soners were taken — a number superior to that of the Americans when they commenced the engagement General Proctor destroyed Maiden ; but on the 2d of October the American Gieneral, Harrison, captured De- troit. Colonel Johnson, in this engagement, mortally wounded the celebrated Indian Chief, Tecumseh. The loss of the Americans in this battle did not exceed fifty, the British had nineteen regulars kUled, fifty wounded and six hundred prisoners. After a series of operations, without any decisive result, the American army, commanded by General Wilkinson, retired into winter quarters. Great expectations were formed by all true republicans of the successful issue of this campaign J but they were miserably disappointed. 1814- The American frigate Essex, Commodore Por ter, was captured on the 28th of March, off Valparaiso, by a superior British force. The British brig Epervier, after an action of forty-two minutes, struck her flag to the Peacock, in the month of April. Desjjerate battles were fought at Chippewa and Bridgewater in the month of July. Fort Erie was also taken from the British. A British fleet of between fifty and sixty sail, arrived iu the Chesapeake, about the middle of August — their object an attack on Washington, the capital of America General Ross, at the head of six thousand British troops, succeeded in this enterprise, but the English inflicted a lasting disgrace on their surms, by the destruction of pub- lic buildings, which shed a lustre on the city, and which were justly regarded with pride by the whole nation This expedition was attended with a loss of one thousaua men to the invaders. Baltimore was attacked on the 12th of September, by the army under General Ross. The determined bravery of the Americans induced the British to retire. General Ross was killed in this attempt Lieutenant-General DrummonJ on the 14th August, attacked Fort Erie. After an obstinate engagement, he was repulsed, with a loss of six hundred, in killed, 32 386 TouNG man's book of knowledge. wounded, and prisoners. The Americans lost two hun- dred and forty-five in killed and wounded. The British army, commanded by Sir George Prevost, amounting to fourteen thousand men, retreated from Plattsburg, owing to the judicious movements of the American forces under General Macomb. Commodore Macdonough also captured the squadron of Commodore Downie, on Lake Erie. Considerable dissension prevailed in New England, in consequence of the war with Great Britain, to which a great portion of the people in that section were strongly opposed. On the 8th of January, fifteen thousand British troops, commanded by Sir Edward Pakenham, landed in Louis- iana. In the attack on New Orleans, '' the British de- liberately advanced in solid columns, over an even plain, in front of the American entrenchments, the men carrying beside their muskets, fascines, and some of them ladders. A solemn silence now prevailed throughout the American lines, until the enemy approached within reach of the batteries, which opened an incessant and destructive cannonade. The enemy, notwithstanding, continued to advance, closing up their ranks as fast they were opened by the fire of the Americans. At length they came within reach of the musketrj' and rifles. Hundreds fell at every discharge, and by columns were swept away. In a third but unavailing attempt to lead up their troops, Generals Gibbs and Kean were severely wounded, the former mortally. The field of battle now exhibited a scene of extended carnage. Seven hundred brave sol- diers were sleeping in death, and one thousand four hun- dred were wounded. Five hundred were made prisoners, — making a loss to the British, on this memorable day, of near three thousand men. The Americans lost in the engagement only seven killed, and six wounded. The enemy now sullenly retired, and on the night of the 18th evacuated their camp, and with great secrecy embarked on board their shipping." On the 24th December, a treaty of peace between Great Britain and America was signed at Ghent. 1815. A treaty of peace with the Dey of Algiers, Was concluded at Algiers on the 30th of June. By this EPITOME or AMERICAN HISTORY. 387 troaty, the United States were exempted from paymg tribute in future. A British squadron captured the Ame- rican frigate President, on the 15th of January. The Americans made prizes of the British ships Cyane, Le- vant, and Penguin. These were considered lawful prizes. 1816. On Wednesday, April 10th, a bill incorpora- ting the '^ Bank of the United States," with a capital of thirty-five millions, received the sanction of the President, after a long and animated debate. Mississippi and Indiana became independent states, and were received into the Union in the month of De- cember. 1817. James Monroe was elected President, and Daniel D. Tompkins, Vice-President of the United States. 1818. A state constitution having been adopted by Illinois, in April, it was admitted as a member of the Union in the December following. The Seminole Indians were completely vanquished this year in their contest with the United States, by the vigorous measures of General Jackson. 1819. East and West Florida, with all the islands adjacent, &c. were ceded to the United States by the Spanish Government. The government of the territory of Arkansas, was or- ganised by Act of Congress on the 2d of March. Alabama was admitted into the Union, on an equal footing with the original states, on the 14th December. 1 820. Maine became a member of the federal union on the 30th of March. 1821. By an act of Congress, the military peace es- tablishment of the Union was reduced to four regiments of artillery, and seven regiments of infantry. Missouri was admitted into the federal union on the lOih of August. 1822. A territorial government was established for Florida on the 31st of March. 1828. General Jackson, the Hero of New Orleans, was elected President of the United States. A succession of prosperous events has marked the rising greatness of the Republic, up to the present period, (1833) 888 YOUNG man's BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. the limits of which are too vast for the human mind to contemplate. REFLECTIONS, &c. What a mighty change has the progress of civilization effected on this vast continent. Three centuries and a half have not yet transpired since the existence of the New World became known to Columbus. Eternal and majestic forests then covered a great portion of its sur face — its noble rivers were only navigated by the beard- less Indian in his frail canoe, and the Red Man, with '' untutored mind" was " monarch of all he surveyed." Now we behold a glorious scene. Cities, towns, and vil- lages, with their industrious and intelligent inhabitants, spread an air of refinement and comfort around them. Canals, in themselves monuments of the ingenuity and perseverance of man, intersect different parts of the coun- try, and facilitate the transmission of produce. The waste hunting ground is converted into the fruitful farm, and the population of foreign nations receive the super- abundance of the American soil, in exchange for the re- spective products of their different climates. The power of steam, too, the application of which to various purposes has been attended with such surprising results, has con- nected tile interests of different states of the Union by an almost incredible rapidity of intercourse. From a few settlers, driven by persecution from their native homes, a great and powerful nation has arisen, whose energies are without a parallel — which at once commands the envy and admiration of Europe, and is an asylum for the op- pressed and misgoverned of all "principalities and powers.'' From whence have arisen these pleasing developements of the faculties of man ? What has given birih to that clear and brilliant light which enables every individual to view things through their just and true medium? Assuredly, that principle implanted by the Almighty in the bosom of every rational being — the natural desire and the inalienable right of Freedom. The colonists of Great REFLECTIONS, &C. 389 Britain were regarded as mere " hewers of wood and drawers of water" — the bond servants of a proud and unrelenting- aristocracy — their king ruled them with a rod of iron, till oppression had filled its cup, the draught of which was too bitter for human endurance. Resist- ance became their duty ; and how inflexibly that resist- ance was maintained — ^-with what constancy a Washing- ton cond ucted his band of devoted and heroic patriots through a long and perilous campaign — the glory which marked its termination — and the last solemn act of that great and virtuous chief, History may recount with pride — they form the brightest and most instructive pages in her impartial volume. The " right divine" of kings to sway over the minds and bodies of their subjects has been exploded ; and a lesson of self-government presented to the world, which must produce the most salutary influence. The free in- stitutions of America have already shaken the stability of the thrones of Europe. Men do not now so easily permit themselves to be kept in leading-strings. Independence of thought — a deep and critical esamioation into the acts and policy of governments — and a watchful jealousy of the exercise of power, are among the important signs of the times. An impressive contrast to the United States of Ame- rica is presented by Italy, Spain, Portugal, and other European dominions. The " Book of Knowledge" is there a closed volume — ^the people are enveloped in the roost gross darkness ; — ignorance and crime debase the mind, and an unsparing tyranny reigns triumphant. It is to the education which is so wisely and hbeially provided for the rising generation, that America owes so proud a superiority — that independence of spirit — that detestation of oppression — that ardent love of liberty, which ennobles man, and impriats on his heart, " all MEN ARE BORN FREE AND EaiTAL." " Knowledge is Power." In difiiising instruction, then, throughout the United States by Public Schools, and the powerful means of an unshackled press, " men know their rights," and imbibe the spirit to defend them. They become acquainted with thegeniusof the constitu- tion, and repel with indignation the slightest attempt on 32* 830 YOUNG MAN'S BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE. their political privileges. Innumerable publications are dispersed through every section of the Union, and upon terms so remarkably cheap as to come within the reach of every man's means. From these circumstances, a greater degree of general information is possessed by the people of the United States, than by the natives of any other country. Search the world through, and where is there to be found such an active and enterprising class as the merchants of America, " The star-spangled banner" may be seen floating, wherever a profitable commerce prevails. Converse with the American Farmer, you will find him contented and happy in his station, hospitable in his manners, of sound sense, sturdy in his own indepen- dence, and blessing the land that enables him " to feel as a man." Question the mechanic on inventions, he will display a clearness of judgment, and an insight into causes at once creditable and ingenious. There is no where to be seen that clownish stupidity which is so re- markable in the agricultural districts of England ; where many of the rustics appear to have no more animation than the clods upon which they tread. How happens this in a country which is continually boasting of its su- perior intelligence ? Does it arise from the lack of public schools, from long-continued labour, or from a slavish fear of haughty squires, parsons, and men " clothed in a little brief authority," ? The strongest bulwark — the surest passport to the prosperity of the United States will be found in providing sound and useful instruction to the people. "The Bible and the institutions of Christianity are with us, and are presenting to us all the blessings which religion can im- part. Thus circumstanced, what should prevent our country from advancing to that eminence of national happiness, beyond which national happiness cannot ex- tend. Manufactures may here arise — busy commerce, inland and foreign, distribute our surplus produce, aug- ment our capital, give energy to industry, improvement to roads, patronage to arts and sciences, vigour to schools, and universality to the institutions of religion ; reconciling civil liberty with efBcient government; extended popula- tion with concentrated action ; and unparalleled wealth ■with sobriety and moralitj'." THE ABORIGINES. 391 Who can imagine the countless thousands that will undoubtedly people these ttnmense regions, at some future period, without being lost in amazement ? When we consider the progressive increase of the population, and its daily augmentation by the continual tide of emigra tion from Europe, it is not perhaps improbable, that in less than three centuries New York maj' vie with Lon- don in population, and even exceed it in the extent of its commerce. Before the expiration of that period, the Great Far West may number its busy millions of ac- countable beings; wealthy cities rich in architectural beauties, the seats of learning and refinement ; a degree of knowledge may be attained, and discoveries made, but " little dreamt of in our philosophy." The resources of the human mind are almost inexhaustible; when once an impulse is given to its powers, it surmounts every bar- rier, and pursuing an onward coarse, " worketh marvel- lous things." Long may the sun of prosperity shed its enlivening beams on these free, united, and happy states. Long may the pure and sacred flame of Liberty shed its radi- ance in her holy temple. Disdaining all debasing and dishononrable pursuits, may the present and succeeding generations of American Young Men, shed lustre on the national character by a dignified integrity, both with regard to morals and religion. This alone will preserve the Union — prevent intestine divisions — ^banish all selfish and ambitious motives — strengthen the bonds of fellow- ship—exhibit the sinfulness of war, and promote the last- ing reign of Peace and Righteousness. THE ABORIGINES. " The employments of the men were principally hunt- in^-, fishing, and war. The women dressed the food ; took charge of the domestic concerns ; tilled their narrow and scanty fields ; and performed almost all the drudgery connected with their household affairs. " The amusements o( the men were principally leaping, ahooting at marks, dancing, gaming, and huntinir, in all 392 TouNG man's book of knowledge, of which they made the most violent exertions. Their dances were usually performed round a large fire. In their war dances they sung, or recited the feats which they or their ancestors had achieved ; represented the manner in which they were performed, and wrought themselves up to an inexpressible degree of martial en- thusiasm. The females occasionally joined in some of these sports, but had none peculiar to themselves. '• Their dresi was various. In summer, they wore little besides a covering about the waist ; but in winter, they clothed themselves in the skins of wild beasts. They were exceedingly fond of ornaments. On days of show and festivity, their sachems wore mantles of deer skin, embroidered with white beads, or copper, or they were paintfd with various devices. Hideousness was the ob- ject aimed at in painting themselves. A chain of fish- bones about the neck, or the skin of a wildcat, was a sign of royalty. " For habitations the Indians had weekwams, or wig- wams as pronounced by the English. These originally consisted of a strong -pole erected in the centre, around \vhicl)','§t the distance of ten or twelve feet, other poles were driven obliquely into the ground, and fastened to the centre pole at the top. Their coverings were of mats, or barks oif trees, so well adjusted as to render them dry and comfortable. " Their domestic utensils extended not beyond a hatchet of stone, a few shells and sharp stones, which they used for knives : stone mortars for pounding corn, and some mats and skins upon which they slept. They sat, and ate, and lodged on the ground. With shells and stones ihey scalped their enemies, dressed their game, cut their hair, &c. They made nets of thread, twisted from the bark of Indian hemp, or of the sinews of the moose and deer. For fish-hooks they used bones which were bent. " Their /oorf was of the coarsest and simplest kind — the flesh, and even the entrails of all kinds of wild beasts and birds ; and in their proper season, green corn, beans, peas, &c. &c. which they cultivated, and other fruits which the country spontaneously produced. Flesh and fish they roasted on a stick, or broiled on the fire. In some instances they boiled their meat and corn by putting hot THE ABORIGIXES. 393 Stones in water. Corn they parched, especially in the winter, and upon this they lived in the absence of other food. " The money of the Indians called wampum, consisted of small beads wrought from shells and strung on belts, and in chains. The wampum of the New England Indians was black, blue, and white. That of the Six Nations was of a purple colour. Six of the white beads, and three of the black, or blue, became of the value of a peony. A belt of wampum was given as a token of friendship, or as a seal or confirmation of a treaty. " There was little among them that could be called society. Except when roused by some strong excitement, the men were generally indolent, taciturn, and unsocial. The women were too degraded and oppressed to think of much besides their tools. Removing too, as the seasons changed, or as the game grew scarce, or as danger from a stronger tribe threatened, there was little opportunity for forming those local attachments, and those social ties, which spring from a long residence in a particular spot. "Theirlanguage, also, though energetic, was too bajren to serve the purposes of familiar conversation. In order to be understood and felt, it required the aid of strong and animated gesticulation, which could take place only when great occasions excited them. It seems, therefore, that they drew no considerable part of their enjoyments from intercourse with one another. Female beauty had little power over the men, and all other pleasures gave way to the strong impulses of public festivity, or burning captives, or seeking murderous revenge, or the chase, or war, or glory. " War was the favourite employment of the savages of North America. It roused them from the lethargy into which they fell, when they ceased from the chase, and furnished them an opportunity to distinguish themselves — to achieve deeds of glory, and taste the sweets of re- venge. Their weapons were bows and arrows, headed with flint or other hard stones, which they discharged with great precision and force. The southern Indians used targets made of biirk ; the Mohawks clothed them- selves with skins, as a defence against the arrows of their enemies. 394 YOUNG man's book of knowledge. " When they fought in the open field, they rushed to the attack with incredible fury, and, at the same time uttered their appalling war whoop. Those whom they had taken captive they often tortured with every variety of cruelty, and to their dying agonies added every spe- cies of insult If peace was concluded on, the chiefs of the hostile tribes ratified the treaty by smoking in suc- cession the same pipe, called the ca.'timet, or pipe of peace. " The government of the Indians in general was an absolute monarchy; though it differed in different tribes. The will of the sachem was law. In matters of moment, he consulted, however, his counsellors ; but his decisions were final. War and peace among some tribes, seem to have been determined on in a council of old men, distin- guished by their exploits. When in council they spoke at pleasure, and always listened to the speaker with pro- found and respeciful silence. " When propositions for war or peace were made, or treaties proposed to them, by the colonial governors, they met the ambassadors in council, and at the end of each paragraph, or proposition, the principal sachem delivered a short stick to one of his council, intimating that it was his peculiar duty to remember that paragragh. This was repeated till every proposal was finished ; they then retired to deliberate among themselves. After their deli- berations were ended, the sachem, or some counsellors to whom he had delegated this ofiice, replied tO'every para- graph in its turn, with an exactness scarcely exceeded in the written correspondence of civilised powers. Each man actually remembered what was committed to him, and with his assistance the person who replied remem- bered the whole." " The religious notions of the natives consisted of tra- ditions, mingled with many superstitions. Libe the an- cient Greeks, Romans, Persians, Hindoos, &c. they be- lieved in the existence of two gods, the one good, who was the superior, and whom they styled the Great, or Good Spirit; the other evil. They worshipped both; and of both formed images of stone, to which they paid religious homage. Besides these, they worshipped va- rious other deities — such as fire, water, thunder — any THE ABORIGINES. 395 thing which they conceived to be superior to themselves, and capable of doing them injury. The manner of wor- ship was to sing and dance round large fires. Besides dancing, they offered prayers, and sometimes sweet scented powder. In Virginia, the Indians offered blood, deer's suet, and tobacco. Of the creation and the deluge they had distinct traditions. " Marriage among thom was generally a temporary contract. The men chose their wives agreeable to fancy, and put them away at pleasure. Marriage was cele- brated, however, with some ceremony, and in many in- stances was observed with fidelity ; not unfrequently it was as lasting as life. Polygamy was common among them. '• Their treatment of females was cruel and oppressive. They were considered by the men as slaves, and treated as such. Those forms of decorum between the sexes, which lay the foundation for the respect and gallant courtesy, with which women are treated in civilised so- ciety, were unknown among them. Of course, females were not only required to perform severe labour, but often felt the full weight of the passion and caprices of the men. " Their skill in medicine was confined to a few simple prescriptions and operations. Both the cold and warm hath were often applied, and a considerable number of plants were used with success. For some diseases they knew no remedy, in which cass they resorted to their Poioow, or priest, who undeitook the removal of the dis- ease by means of sorcery " It may be remarked, however, that the diseases to which the Indians were liable, were few, compared with those which prevail in civilized society. '' The riles of burial among the--Indians, varied but little throughout the continent. They generally dug holes in the ground with sharpened stakes. In the bot- tom of the grave were laid sticks, upon which the corpse, wrapped in skins and mats, was deposited. The arms, utensils, paints, and ornaments of the deceased were buried with him, and a mound of earth raised over his grave. Among some tribes in New-England, and among the Five Nations, the dead were buried in a sitting pos-