^OFCAUF(%, ^.QF-CAUF(% - WTQr ' AttE-UNIVERS/A nn^ 7 m/A AGRICULTURE, NATURAL-HISTORY, ARTS, AND MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. BY JAMES ANDERSON, LLD. FRS. and FSA. E. Honourary member of the Society of Arts, Agriculture, &c. Bath; of the Philosophical Society, Manchester; of the Agricultural Society, Altringham ; of the Philosophical So- ciety, Newcastle; of the So iety for promoting Natural History, London ; of the Academy of Aits, Sciences, anil Belles Lettres, Dijon; of the Royal Society of Agriculture, St. Peteribuigh; of the Royal Economical Society, Berlin; of the Philosophical Society, Phi. ladelphia; correspondent member of the Royal Society of Agriculture, Paris; and author of several performances. KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. BACON. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED BT r. BENSLKr, tilt Ciurt, flett Street ; And sold by JAMES \VALLIS, No. 46, Paternoster Row; and R.H.EVANS (Successor to Mr. EDWARDS), No. Z 6, Pall Mall. 1799- I N D EX. N. B. The letters prefxed to the pages refer tn the three divisions: A. for Agriculture, JVf. Miscellaneous, N. Natural History. Where the figures run on in the same arti- cle, -without any letter prefxed, they all refer to the division marled at the beginning of that article. A to exclude heat more effectually than any solid body, 217. ABSTINENCE, surprising instances of i Arabian horses, N. 72. Accidents to which a farm is liable, A. 87. Agriculture, the most nccefsary of all arts has made slower advances than others, A I causes of this, 2 the language im perfect exemplified in regard to the won clay, 3 Soils how produced, 4 Manu facturers more accurate in their distinc- tions than farmers, 6 all solid substance fitted to sustain some plant, 9 metallic impregnations render soils barren, 9 in- fertile soils become fertilisers of others 10 remarkable instance of inexhausti- ble productivenefs of a particular soil, particular manures affect particular soils, instances of, ii particular soils favourable to particular plants, 14 e ternal appearance of a soil fallacious, small degree of impregnation produces at times a great change of soil for ever, if facts in agriculture can only be ascer- tained after a great length of time, 1 8 deceptions in agricultural writings easy to be practised, i o hence prejudices pre- vail against agricultural writings in gene- ral, 20 evil consequences of this preju- dice, 2 [a mode of removing this evil suggested, 22 agricultural survey of Bri- tain on a new plan, 23 and of the Ne- therlands, 25 experience in agriculture an imperfect mode of acquiring know- ledge, 26 experiments, difficulties at- tending them, 18 experimental farm, utility of, 29 difficulties that oppose such an eftablishment, 30 facts that can and cannot be elucidated by an experi- mental farm, 30 facts, how they may be obtained and concentrated in this jour- nal, 32. Agriculture, circumstances that tend to ac- celerate or retard its produce, A. 85 Ditto considered as an object of taste and recreation to a man of fortune, A. 90. Agriculture, a synopsis of, vide Synopsis. Agricultural survey of Britain proposed on a new plan, A. 23 and of the Nether- lands, 25, Agriculturist, man eminently distinguished as such, N. 18. Agriculturists have made inaccurate discri- minations of clay, A. 5. Air, in what way it may be employed at pleasure, either for transmitting heat quickly, or for excluding it, M. 2 i z in what way a stratum of air may be made VOL. I. L' Allegro of Milton criticised, M. 197. Amputating fruit trees, time for, M. 117. Anderson, Dr. of Madras, his communica- tion of the mode of making chunam in India, M. i. Anglo-Asiaticus, his account of chunam, M. 64. Animals, general disquisitions concerning them, A. S3- Animals, mere, are not susceptible of har- monic sensations, N.2I. Animal and vegetable remains tend to render the soil fertile, N. 34. Anirml bones, resemblance of in lime-stone only a deception, M. 128. Antients, their knowledge of natural history lost to us, owing to their want of clafsifi.- cation, N. i. Ants, a surprising instance of their power, N. 14. Apples, how preserved from frost in Ame- rica, M. 24. Arabian horses, how brought to bear absti- nence and fatigue to an extraordinary de- gree, N. 71. Arable farm, on the general management of one, A. 67. \renaria verna grows only on lead rubbish, A. 9. Arra on destroying the gooseberry caterpil- lar, M. 258. Afs, a tame one, interesting account of, M-57. Atmosphere, the, its important influence in nature, N. 40. B. Sabylon'an willow, a valuable sort, N. 96". iukewell, Mr. his system of improving cat- tle investigated, N 75. Savbadoes nearly depopulated by the ravages of ants, N. 14. Jark of trees, the chief sent of their diseases, M. 71. Jarren soils, what, A. 9. leans, how to preserve them from being hurt by the black puceron, M 188. lear, singular mode of hunting him, N. 10. Beluga, on the causes of its migrations, M. 124. Best breeds of animals, rules for selecting them, N. 8 1. Blackbird white, how produced and perpe- tuated, N. 63. Breeds of animals, how distinguished from varieties, N. 85. Breeds, the varieties of animals so called, I N D how they may be lost, or perpetuated, N. 65. Britain, an agricultural survey of it proposed on a new plan, A. 23. Buildings necefsary on a farm, A. 7. c. Cabbages, mongrel varieties of, N. 88. Castigator, his letter to the Editor, concern- ing Mr.Pope, M. 193 answertoit, 195. Cat, a singular instance of one producing kittens without a tail, N- 69. Catch set to music, White sand and grey sand, as a model to the watchmen for regulat- ing their cry, M.246. Caterpillars and grubs, in what respects use- ful, N. 14 are of no sex, ib. Caterpillar, the gooseberry, easy and effaci- ous mode of destroying it, M. 185. Cellars that shall be always cool, how to be economically formed in warm climates, M. 221. Chastity, the power of, inimitably pourtrayed by Milton, M. 201. Chicken, how soon it attains its knowledge, N. 7. Chunam, or fine marble-like cement, of India, mode of making it, M. i. Clafsification, the, of natural objects, a ne- cefsary step in that study, N. I. Clays inaccurately discriminated, A. 3 Climate, variations of, how produced, N-42. Coal-pit, does riot grow again in places from whence it has been taken, M. ^49. Cobwebs, when covered with dew, produce the staggers in horses, M. 230. Coloured poultry, horses, and cattle, how to be accounted for, N. 65. Columnar crystals of water, how produced, M. 1 8 represented, 20. Comus, the, of Milton, a slight critique on, M. 199. Consumption of the lungs might be pre- vented by the use of flues, M. 249. Cool air may be collected in wells, and pre- served for use, M. 218. Correspondents, to, M. 43 94 141 239 279. Cotton syphon, useful in irrigation, M. 251 illustrated by figures, 252. Coventry, Dr. a singular cat belonging to him, N,69. Crette de Palluel, v. Palluel. Cristallizations, farther observations on, M. 126. Criticism, what it should be, M. 196. Crocus, the, addrcfs to, M. 277. Culture, on the, of vegetables in general, A. SS ditto of particular crops, 57. Crystals, on the different kinds of, M. 13 saline ditto, 13 Crystals produced ly the cooling of bodies, 14 varieties of form that the same crystals afsume, j 5 cmplified with respect to the various forms of ice E X. D. Deceptions in agriculture easy, A. 19. Deer, the red, account of one, M. 59. Deers* horns, particulars respecting them, M. 261. Diseases to which particular crops are liable, A. H8 ditto of domestic animals, ibid. Double flowers, observations on, N 9 1 . Dwarf, a remarkable one, account of, M. 61. E. Ear for music, some men have it not, N. 20. Earths, which of themselves are naturally infertile, sometimes render others more productive, A. ic. Economical considerations concerning live stock, A. 67 Economy in regard to implements of agri- culture recommended, A. 47. Egret, Lord Nelson's, described and deli- neated, M. 96. Elementary parts of nature, their importance in this universe, N. 32. Elephant, his reasoning faculty greatly infe- rior to man, N. 6. Eminent authors the most proper objects of criticism, M. 196. Eolian harp described, M. 97. Evaporation of water, procefs of, N. 38. Expansion of ice, its amazing power, N. 37. Experience distinguished from experiment in agriculture, A. 26 defects of each 26 28. Experimental f.irms, imperfections of, 29 plan adopted by the author to obviate these difficulties, 32. External appearance of a soil fallacious, A. 15. The Eye, in how far it may afsist in choos- ing a good breed of animals, N. 81. F. Facts in agricultuie cannot be ascertained but in a long course of time, A. 18. Family likenefses, how accounted for, N.7O. Form perfect, of an animal, Mr. Bakewell's idea of it, stated and controverted, N. 75. Female profligacy, observations on, M. 205. Fences, different kinds of, A. 48. Fertile soil, a remarkable instance of conti- nuing long unexhausted, A. n. Filtering machine, a powerful one, M. 285. Fishes, on the migration of, M. 124. Flues, or stovrs, great benefits that would be derived from the use of them in Bri- tain, M. 249. Fogs, how produced, N. 39. Forsyth, Mr. some account of his discove- ries respecting trees, M. 66 ditto con- tinued, 1 1 6. Fowls without a tail, N. 68. Freezing of w itrr does not depend entirely on the intensity of the cold, M. 23. Freezing, the suprising expansion of water in the act of, N. 37. I N D Frost, some of the principal phenomena of. I M. 16. Frost excluded by means of straw, M. 23 E X. I. and by means of a linen cloth, 7.4 by means also of a loose rop?, 25. Fuel, considerations respecting it, A. So. G. Garden, a magnificent one, M. . Insects, the period of ihsir existence in their different states, N. i 6. Insects, a remarkable instance of the conse- quence of not destroying them on fruit- trees, M. 73. Instinct, wherein it differs from reason, N-5. Instinct is often m >st powerful a.nong ani- mals whose rational powers are weakest, N. ;.. Instinct in man lets obvious, N. 5?. Irrigation, new experiments on, M. 251. Jockeys and spo.tsmen, t:>eir mode of breed- ing animals applauded, N. 72. Impofsibiliiies have been often performed various instances of, M. 191. Improvements in agriculture have been of a local nature, and why, A. 4. Judging premalurely condemned, M. 191. Julia to her friend in town on the beauties of nature, M. 3$ -continued, 14;, con- tinued, on the pleasures of poetry, 155. L. Language of agriculture imperfect, A. 2. Language, the, oi natural history, b-.ing now fixed, we are ut liberty to proceed m that study, N. 2. Larvae, the meaning of that term, N. 15. Lead rubbish produces tLe arenaria verna, A. o. Lewcombe oak, N. 95. Life of every animal a state of warfare, N. 83. Linnaeus his System of Nature the most esteemed, N. 2. Live stock, different kinds that may be oc- casionally kept by the farmer, A. 60 economical considerations concerning them, A. 67. Love, cause of the different ideas that differ- ent persons annex to that- phrase, N. 25. Lucubrations, vide Hairbraiu. Man is greatly superior to all other animals on this globe, N. 4 the only animal which knows how to cultivate plants, N. ! jj the only animal who is susceptible of beauty, harmony, and perfumes, N. 19 is capable of receiving two kinds of im- pretsions through the same organ, N. 20 he alone is susceptible of harmonic sen- sations, N. 25 and of the moral sense, N. 25. Man, his power over animals, by observing their individual instincts, some striking instances of, N. o. Management of land, general disquisitions concerning, A. 77. Manufacturers discriminate clays more ac- curately than farmers, A. 6 consequences of this, 7. Manures clafsed, A. 37. Mechanical rules for estimating the strength of wood, M. 136 illustrated by figures, 138- Metallic soils usually barren, A. 9. Method of preventing a heated wall from experiencing variations of temperature M. 166. Mice, white, how produced and perpetuated N. 63 and how lost, N. 64. A middle station productive of more happi nefs than high rank, M. 174. Migration of fishes, thoughts on the cause of, M.I -4. Milton's forte was not the tender, but th sublime, M. 201. Minerals, the important place they hold i this universe, N. 29. Mira, answer to, observations on poetrj M. 148. Misletoe, how to extirpate it, M. 74. Mode of constructing houses that shall ! cool in warm climates, M. 210. Moderns induced to clafs natural objects account of their ignorance of the vvritin of the ancients on that subject, N. I. Moisture extracted from mould by means frost, M. 27. Mongrels, among vegetables, instances of, N. 87 instanced in regard to cabbages, 88 and turnips, 89 how they differ from mongrel animals, N. 90. Money, the pleasures it promises fallacious, M. 121. Moral sense, what, N. 25. Mofs upon trees, a vegetable propagated by seeds, and may be extirpated, M. 73. Mouldinefs, thoughts mi, M. 127. Music, the power of, beautifully described by Milton, M. 100. N. Katu'al hioto y definition, N. I was stu- died at an early period, ibid. INDEX. atural history, pleasures attending the study of, M. 39. atural history, cautions respecting it, M. 265. atural objects arranged under three clafses, N. 3 these are so clearly connected, as not to be easily distinguished from each other, N. ? In regard to mental powers, as well as corporeal organization, N. 3. Natural physics, what, N. 32. Mature, her operations tending to meliorate the soil, A. 40. Needle-like spicule of ice, how produced, M. 18. Nelson, Lord, his egrette described and deli- neated, M. 96. Netherlands, the, an agricultural survey of it proposed, A. 25. o. Obstructions to the operations of agriculture enumerated, A. 39. Ointment discovered by Mr. Forsyth for healing wounded trees, its efficacy, M-7o. Old trees may be made to bear fruit much sooner than young cfyes, M. 77. Onions raised succcfsivcly on the same spot for time immemorial, A. 25. Operations by art upon the soil, to prepare it for carrying com, specified, A. 39 ditto by nature, for the same purpose, 40 ditto calculated for extirpating weeds, 41 ditto, calculated to guard against trespafses, 42. On orchards and fruit-trees, A. 58. Organization of plants to be adverted to, N. 28. Otter, a tame one described, M. 104 me- thod of training it, 106. P. Palemon, answer to, concerning original matter for this work, M. 47. Palluel, Crerte, notices of, M. 35. Papilionaceous rlowers'may be made to yield mongrel varieties, N. 92. Particular plants affect particular soils, re- markable instances of, A. 14. Party politics excluded from this work, M. 46. Periodical performances, hints on the uti- lity of, M 87. Permanent change of a soil produced by a very small addition made to it, A. 15. Phenomena of frost, N. 38. Philo, and answer to, on the plan of this work, M. 43. Philosophers, their opinions ought to be lit- tle regarded by practical men, N. 71. Philosophos on political economy, M. 46. Philogynes on female profligacy, M. 205- A Plain man, his observations on the horns of deer, M. 260. INDEX. Plants thrown out of the ground by frost, how effected, M. 21. Plants that sport, observations on, N. 94. Poetry, the charms of, by Julia, M. 255. Poetry, observations on, M. 141 cautions to young writers concerning it, 143. Poetry, its genuine characteristic feature pointed out, M. 203. Poisonous plant, an unknown one in North America, alarming effects of, M. 234. Pope, Mr. Castigator's defence of him, M. 194. Porpoises, destroyed by a very easy contri- vance, N. n. Prejudice against agricultural writings, how produced, A. 20. Poultry, coloured, how to be accounted for, N. 65. Power, the, of instinct greatest among ani- mals whose reasoning faculties are mo- derate, N. 7. Puceron-black, of the bean, mode of de- stroying it, M. 188 confirmed, 259. Q. Queries, suggestions, and observations, by B, M. 249. R. . Rabbits, with one ear only, N 68. Readers, the notices to, M. 190 288. Reason and instinct, how to be differenced, N. 5. Reason among brutes, how far perceptible, N. 9. Rebellion, domestic, humorously compared with political rebellion, M. 206. Recluse, the, a singular character, notices of, M.^2 continued, 49 continued 97. Robin and Susan, a jeu d'esprit, M. 237. Roots of plants, in what way they operate in meliorating the soil, N. 38. Rope loose, said to preserve trees from frost, M. 26. Roufseau and Hume, difference of, N. 27, Rules for selecting the best breeds of ani- mals, N. 81. Rural hints and lucubrations, by a rural villager, M. 145. s. Salmon, infested by insects, M. izfi. Salt common, experiment on, as a manure, A. 13. A Saunterer, his observations, M. 241 his proposal for teaching watchmen to sing, 245. Science, what this word means, A. ;. Selecting the best breeds of animals, rules for, N. 81. Seminal varieties, what, N. 94. Sheep, why they are for the most part only white, N. 65. Shells of crustaceous fishes, observations on, M. 268. Silk-worm, its transformations, N. 16. Sleeping-chambers in tropical regions, where they should be placed to be the most wholesome and refreshing, M. 225. Snow, flake of, its particular stricture, M. delineated, 28. Of Soils, A. 35. Soils, how produced, A. 5. Soils, affected by particular manures that do not fertilize others, instances of, A. 12. Soil, fertilized by the destruction of animals and vegetables, N. 131. Solid substances of every sort may be con- verted into mould, A. 8. Species, the knowledge of does not advance among mere animals, N. 9. Sporting plants, observations on, N. 94. Springs, the origin of, N. 39. Stag, the, an account of one, M. 59. Staggers, a disease among horses and other animals, so called, observations on, M.229. Staggerweed, a plant so called from its de- leterious effects when eaten by animals, M. 235. Stones, &c. converted into soil, N. 35. On substances that render soil infertile, A. 37 Sully, remarkable anecdote of, N. 26. Survey, an agricultural one of Britain pro- posed on a new plan, A. 23 and of the Netherlands, 25. Synopsis of a systematic arrangement of the several objects that ought to be adverted to by an agricultural enquirer, A. 34 I. on vegetation in general, 34 II. of soils, 35 III. subftances that tend to render the soil infertile, 36 IV. ma- nures, 37 V. obstructions to the opera- tions of agriculture, 39 VI. operations by art for rendering the soil fit for carry- ing corn, 39 VII. ditto of nature, 40 VIII. ditto calculated for extirpating weeds, 41 IX. ditto calculated to guard against trespafses, 42. X. of implements employed in agriculture, 43 XI. gene- ral disquisitions concerning vegetables, 48 XII. ditto concerning animals, 53 XIII. of the culture of vegetables in ge- neral, 55 XIV. ditto of particular crops, 57 XV. on orchards and fruit trees, 58 XVI. timber trees considered as a crop by the farmer, 59 XVII. of the differ- ent kinds of live stock that may be occa- sionally kept by the farmer, 60 XVIII. economical considerations respecting live stock, 67 XIX. on the general ma- nagement of an arable farm, 67 XX. ditto of a grafs farm, 71 XXI. on the c'noice and management of an unimproved farm, that is meant to be converted into tillage, 74 XXII. general disquisitions concerning the management of land, 77 XXIII. buildings necefsury for a farm, and their appurtenances, 78 XXIV. considerations respecting fuel, 80 XXV. Accidents to which the farm is liable, 8 1 INDEX. XXVI. diseases to which particular crops are liable, A. 83 XXVI I. on the diseases of domestic animals, 83 XXVIII. observations on the weather, and rules for judging before hand of the changes which are likely to happen, 84 XXIX. general observations on the circumstances that tend to retard or acce- lerate the progrefs of agriculture, 85 XXX. agriculture considered as an object of taste and recreation to a man of for- tun;, 90 conclusion, 91. Systematic synopsis of agriculture, A. 34. T Taste, the meaning of that word, N. 23. Taste, reflections on, M. 269. Timber trees considered as a crop by the farmer, A. 59. Timothy Hairbrain, vide Hairbrain. Travelling memorandums. M. 23. Trees, benefits that may be derived from a careful attention to varieties obtained from seed, N. 94. Turnips, mongrel varieties of, N. 89. U V An Unimproved farm, on the choice and management of, A. 74. Utility of periodical performances, M. 8. Varieties of animals, a difsertation on, N. 49 how distinguished from species, N. 50 supposed to have been all produced from one parent stock. N. 51 proved to be an erroneous opinion, N. 52 in- dividuals are not changed by climate, N. 53 nor their progeny, 54 changed by an intermixture of blood producing mon- grels, N. 57 Varieties in their natural state keep distinct from each other, but intermix in a domesticated state, N. 57 manner in which they are induced to keep apart from each other, 59 natural varieties are not a casual but a permanent distinction, 61 lefser varieties, called families or breeds, how they differ from the others, 62 the origin of breeds purely accidental, but when once obtained may be perpetuated, 62 illustrated by a breed of white mice, and others, 63 in a state of nature, these are apt to be lost, and why, 65 coloured poultry, horses, and cattle, how to be accounted for, 65; and why sheep are generally white, 65 other qualities besides colour may be perpetu- ated in breeds, 66 hornlefs breeds of cat- tle, 67 one-eared rabbits, and other ac- cidental natural defects perpetuated, 68 accidental defect from maiming some- times descend to the posterity, 69 uses that man may make of this, 71 exem- plified in regard to British running horses, and Arabian, 72 Mr. Bakewell's system of improving the breeds of domestic ani- mals condemned, 75 general conclusions on this subject, 8c varieties of vegeta- bles, mongrels of that sort may be ob- tained, 87. Vegetables, general disquisitions concerning them, A. 48. Vegetables, their utility in the universe, N. 18 Vegetation, on, in general, A. 34. Vegeto-animal productions, remarks on, M. 266 horns, hairs, spines, feathers, parti- culars respecting their growth, 267. Vegeto-animal productions differ from vege- tables, and how, M. 268. Ventilating a hot-house, how that may be done without cooling it, M. 167. Villager, rural, hints from, M. 14$. Vine, Mr. Forsyth's method of managing it, M. 120. Vines, how they may be reared in a warm- house, so as not to derange the proper ma- nagement of it, M. 171. w. Wales, mountains, views of, M. 31. Watchmen, the intolerable difsonance they make complained of, M. 245. Water, in freezing, its amazing expansive power, N. 37. Water- drinker, a, on the filtering machine, M. 285. Weather, rules for judging of the changes that arc likely to take place concerning it, A. 84. Weeds, operations in agriculture calculated to extirpate them, A. 41. Wells for collecting cool air, how to be formed, M. 219. Wheat, how it may be debased, N. 93. White mice and blackbirds, how produced and perpetuated, N. 63. Willow, weeping, a fine sort, Ni 96. Winds, the cause of, N. 40. Wolves scared by a string trailing, N. 12. Wood, how to employ it economically, M. 130. Writing, the utility of it in forwarding men- tal improvement, M. 87. Y. Young enquirer, a, observations by, M. 126. ERRATA. AGRICULTURE, fife ST, line ao, for " Kill, 1 ' read " sort." TiATURAL-HISTORY, pag; 63, line zs,/or " turdus marula, nod " turrtm m*rula." MISCELLANIES, page 117, line 3 lr.,m U.it'.m, far " all trers arc weakened hy bleeding, if cut over in -ip, anil left u; pro-ecu rt ; many of :h m die, read " all trees arc weakened by hletdinz ; if en: over in jap, and it ft unprotected, many of tl>em die." P*ee 200, lii.e 4,/or " I never :ill now h.ard," rtad " I never heard till now." ', pagc 1]1 ' line 7 > f lr " m ' st ol '"- r l " l ' t si we know," read " most othtr bodies pace 214, line 19, f:r " their," read ihcre." PROSPECTUS OF A NEW WORK, TO BE ENTITLED RECREATIONS IN AGRICULTURE, NATURAL-HISTORY, ARTS, & MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. fY JAMES ANDERSON, LLD. FRS. & FSA. E. Honorary member of the Society of Arts, Agriculture, &c. BATH ; of the Philosophical Society, MANCHESTER; of the Agricultural Society, ALTKINCHAM; of the Philosophical Society, NEWCASTLE; of the Society for promoting Natural History, LONDON; of the Academy of Arts, Sciences, and Belles Lettrcs, DIJON; of the Royal Society of Agriculture, St. PETERSBURG; of the Royal Economical Society, BERLIN ; of the Philosophical Society, PHILADELPHIA; correspondent member of the Royal Society of Agriculture, PARIS; and author uf several performances. Knowledge is fonvcr. BACON. CONDITIONS. .1. This work will be printed by T. BEXSLEY, and published, monthly, by JAMES WALL is, No. 46, Paternoster-row, London. II. Each number will consist of five sheets (eighty pages), and will be printed on fine demy paper, with a new small pica letter, price one shilling and sixpence each number. A few copies will be taken off on Whatman's super wove royal, price thee (hillings each number. HI. Plates, for illuftration, will be inserted as occasion may require, and will be accurately designed (those in natural-history especially) and elegantly engraved. IV. The First number will be published on the ist of April, 1799. *a* Persons in the country 10/10 shall bt inclined to take in this -nark, inill phase to give their cr.fers to tksir retfecthe Sooiselltrs, ommuni<:aticen conceived ; and we shall soon find ourselves placed imperceptibly in a fjr more elevated situation than we once deemed could have ever been at- tainable without the most violent and painful exertions, ( 4 ) To render this progrefs still the more pleasing, the magisterial air of authority will he here as much as pofsiblc laid aside. Deep and abstruse disquisitions, which are better calculated to display the acquirements of the preceptor than to inform the pupil, will be avoided. The preceptor, be- coming the companion, will advance with the pupil, hand in hand, in search f facts, which will be placed in such a light as shall tend to point out re- lations and connections that might otherwife have escaped notice, from, whence will result conclusions which were by no means obvious at the be- ginning of the enquiry. In this manner will be formed by degrees, habits of attention and diffidence, which will call forth the discriminative powers, on the due exercise of which all correct reasoning and true knowledge must ultimately depend. The mind will thus acquire the faculty of judging without embarrafsment on every occasion, and of distinguishing those cases in which its afsent or difsent ought to be given without reserve, from those where that decision should be suspended until farther elucidations shall bring forward the facts that are wanting to give it the certainty required. Thus will the pupil, instead of requiring to be conducted through life in leading strings, and becoming the mere echo of the preceptor, be able to stand without sup- port ; and feeling his strength cncrease by the regular exercise of his discri- minative faculties, he will soon become his own best instructor, and the occasional corrector, as well of his own preceptor as of others. " Fostered thus " The cradled hero gains from female care " His future vigour : but that vigour felt, " He springs indignant from his nurse's arms ; ' He nods the plumy crest, he shakes the spear, And is that awful thing which heaven ordain'd " The scourge of tyrants, and his country's pride." The objects to which the attention of the reader will be chiefly directed, are indicated in the title page. A few words under each head will serve to give a general idea of what is intended. AGRICULTURE. From what has been already said, it will not be expected that an attempt should here be made to give any thing like a complete BODY of practical agriculture, far less a finished theory of that art. Were it even consistent with the plan of the work, the state of our knowledge in this branch of science is by far too circumscribed to admit of it. As this, however, is con- fefsedly the most useful of all arts ; as bodily health and activity of mind arc promoted in an eminent degree by the exertions that it requires ; as it is 'better calculated than any other occupation for preserving that simplicity of manners, and purity of morals, which constitute the surest basis of a pros- perous tranquillity in states ; and as it has, on these accounts, deservedly ob- tained a very unrtcrsal favour among men, who in general look forward with a wistful fondnefs to the time when they shall be enabled to indulge their partiality for this employment, in some favourite spot where they hope to end their days in tranquillity and peace, it appeared that this could Dot ( 5 ) with propriety be omitted, in a work which profefscs to give some informa- tion on every subject that can prove a source of general interest or entertain- Blent to man. As the editor is better acquainted with this subject thaa with most others, he will endeavour, in tke course of the work, to state such facto respecting it, as he thinks are of principal importance to be known ; and to suggest such ideas, as shall appear to him to be well calcu- lated for guarding from error, and for inducing a rational progress in the principles and practice of this pleasing and useful art. NATURAL-HISTORY. No man can exist without knowing something of the properties and qua- lities of the objects that constitute this universe ; and in proportion to the extent and the correctness of that knowledge, will his power be of rendering them subservient to his own advantage, and the welfare of society : but to what an infinite degree the power of man may be thus extended, those only can form an adequate idea wko h^e made large advances in this science : and much it is to be regretted that the number of those who have made great idranccs in the useful departments of this science is still so small. Consi- dered, then, in the view of utility only, natural history would Liy claim to a particular share of attention ; but when the sublime entertainment it will afford is also taken into the account, it would have been altogether unpar- donable to have overlooked it in this performance. Among the infinite diversity of objects which constitute this universe, there is not a single individual to be found which, when carefully examin- ed, does not exhibit the most striking proofs of infinite wisdom and bene- ficence in the Great first cause, which formed and endowed them with the qualities they severally pofscfs. But if, when considered separately, they be objects of admiration and wonder, when they all come to be viewed as constituent parts of one universal and harmonious whole ; when their reci- procations upon each other, and the general eftlcts that these produce arc minutely investigated ; when we arc thus enabled to perceive in what man- ner contending powers and opposing influences, which upon a slight vitw *ccm to be calculated only for destruction, are, in truth, merely the in- struments employed by infinite wisdom for producing the most salutary ef- fects in this universe, the soul is lost in the expansive glow of adoratioa which overpowers it. In every step of its progrefs light flashes conviction on the enraptured mind, and it feels the joy of emeigingfrom the gloom of doubt which opprefsal it. That arrogance which so naturally swells the heart of man when he contemplates his own operations only, and which renders him alike contemptible and insufferable by men of sense, is mode- rated by the comparative insignificance of these his puny efforts ; and his mind afsumes that humble abasement which alone befits his situation in this world, and which is the only infallible source of unerabittered enjoyment here below. It is not, however, by a reiteration of vague and general declamation tr.at the mind can be brought to feel the power of there sublime imprcfsions: t' is only from a plain and unornamcnteJ display of the peculiarities of indi- ( 6 ) vidua! objects that these conclusions will force themselw upon it, without any studious effort to bring them forward. On this plan it is proposed to give such a view of natural objects as shall seem to be best calculated to enable the reader to make general inductions from particular investigations, thus to lay open the book of nature to the intellectual eye, so as to make him be able to read it with intelligence and satisfaction, whenever he shall be so in- clined. In the course of this survey, those objects will be chiefly selected for illustration, which can be rendered the most directly beneficial to man, or those which are eminently baneful to him in any respect, that he may be thus taught to counteract as much as pofsible the effects of the one, and to avail himself of the other in the highest degree. That no ambiguity may remain respecting the identity of objects, they will be severally referred to by the Linnxun names : but farther than for the purpose of mere refereuce> the nomenclature will form no part of this work. ARTS AND MISCELLANEOUS LITERATURE. Tltt two departments abovenamed, will be kept distinct from each other, and from the rest of the work; a certain proportion of each number being appropriated to each of these subjects, which will be feparately paged, so as to admit of being bound up, as one continued and undivided whole, when a volume is finkhcd. The remaining sheets of each number will consist of detached (ssays on literature, science, and aits. Whatever can prove ufe- ful or interesting to man may find a place in this department. Men of ta- lents may here find a convenient opportunity of ushering into the world with advantage, such speculations as they shall deem of importance; of proposing doubts, correcting errors, or supplying defects wherever they nccur. The editor will strive to do all manner of justice to performances of merit which shall be offered to him, by carefully excluding all such cfsays as, according to his best judgment, would tend to diminish the respec- tability of his work. On this head he begs leave farther to observe, that as his great objects are to inform the understanding, and improve the heart, he will be trudious to avoid every thing that can tend to irritate the pafuonj. or to call forth any of the malevolent affections. For this reason PARTY politics, or those speculations which tend to exalt any one description of men in the state in preference to that of another, will on no account here find a place. Metaphysical disquisitions too, as tendingto bcwilderthe understanding of plain men, and leading to no useful conclusion, he will studiously avoid. $till more carefully will he guard against that obscure kind of reasoning in physics which participates of the metaphyfical cast j and which, by assum- ing data of an intricate nature that cannot be clearly established leads only to perplexity and doubt. Religion also is a subject of too mudi importance to admit <>f being properly treated in a miscellany of th s sort : polemical \vr.n\jlings, therefore, and every thing which tends to unsettle the mind rcsjiccting religious opinions, will be cautiously avoided : nor will national reflections, nor personalities respecting any individual be at all tolerated. With th^sc few rcstiiclions it is hoped judicious persons will cheerfully com- ( 7 ) ply. The field will be still sufficiently wide to allow the fullest scope to the ' highest human powers. If the editor, however, had had no other reliance but upon casual volun- tary communications, he never could have thought of engaging in this un- dertaking. He relies upon the more steady co-operation of several persons of great eminence in the literary world, whose afsistance he has engaged for that purpose, and whose names, were he at liberty to mention them, would give respectability to any work. Afsured even of this aid, he has lon^ ba- lanced between the desire of performing what he thinks would be so praise- worthy, and the fear of failing in the attempt. Prevailed ou at last by the entreaty of friends and his own wishes, he now proceeds with a degree of hesitation and diffidence of which he cannot divest himself, notwithstand- ing the experience he has so often had of the extreme indulgence of the public on his account: for, as the objects he aims at are, in his eyes, not of a trivial, but very important nature ; and as the care of selecting, arranging, and guarding against error, and whatever might eventually prove in any way pernicious to society, must devolve entirely upon himself, he feels a weight. of responsibility, of which, though he wishes not to divest himself, he caai- not but be deeply sensible. It may not be improper to warn the reader, that although this work as- sumes somewhat of the same form, and will be published at the same time with the usual monthly publications, it will in few other respects rescmbl* them. It will contain no news, nor chronological series of events : neither will there be found in it any plates for the mere purpose of ornament : but no reasonable expence will be spa r ed in obtaining correct drawings of sub. fects that shall become necessary for illustration, which will be engraved in such a manner as, he has no doubt, will give general satisfaction. These engravings will be introduced as occasion shall call for, without any attempt to preserve an uniformity in this respect in the different numbers of the work. It is easy for the editor also, to foresee that these engravings will be, much more numerous as the work advances, than can be required near ths beginning of it. To conclude, the editor, who is not entirely unknown to the public, will omit nothing within his power to render this work as deserving of fa- vour as pofsible. Should the public indulgence be such as decisively to mark its approbation of this attempt, he will proceed in it with all the aia- crity that is suitable to his time of life, while health shall permit. Among other good effects, it may serve to rovise and to keep alive in him, a Mule longer than might otheiwiac be the case, those active powers at the mind, the due cxeicisc of which, he thinks, must ever constitute a principal port of the pleasure of existence ; especially in the evening of life, when it be- comes so necefsary to bnuish the recollection of joys that are past, and to cherish a spirit of beneficence which alone affords an unclouded prospect in those who look forward. In the language of Fendon he nwy say, " Jt nf chenlit tii hiem, rti autorih' stir /.j terre; je r.e vfiix guai.ler teitx qni cherchent la justite ct la vtrtu" Should want of health, or other unl-.icl-.Ld for circum dances, oblige the editor to discontinue his lircfary liihcu:?, bis ( 8 ) readers may rest afsured that this event shall not take place without theff knowledge ; for, of whatever insignificance his name may be, he will on no account consent that that name shall ever be prostituted to serve any un- worthy purpose in life. During the continuance of war, little reliance can be placed on literary communications from abroad ; but when pence shall be given to Europe, the editor, by means of the extensive correspondence he established in most countries on the globe, through the intervention of the Bee, may with con- fidence rely on obtaining from foreign parts an abundant supply of original Communications, Books "written anJ published by Dr. Anderson. I. Efsays on Agriculture and Rural Affairs. 3 vols. 8vo. with plates, fourth edition, price il. 7$. boards. II. An Efiay on Quick Lime as a Cement and as a Manure. 8vo. price 55. boards. HI. A practical Treatise on Draining Ings and swampy grounds, illus- trated by figures, with cursory remarks on the originality of Mr. Elking- ton's mode of draining. To which 'are added, directions for making a newr kind of strong, cheap, and durable fence for rich lands; for erecting at little expence, mill-dams or wiers upon rivers, that shall be alike firm? and durable ; for effectually guarding against encroachments by the fca iij>on land, and for gradually raising drowned fens into found grafs lands. y\s, also disquisitions concerning the different breeds of sheep and other wool-bearing animals ; being the principal additions that have been made to fhe fourth edition of Efsays relating to Agriculture and Rural Affairs, pub- lished separately for the accommodation of the purchasers of the former edi- tions of that work. 8vo. price 6s. boards. IV. Observations on the means of exciting a Spirit of National Industry, 410. price 55. boards. V. A Practical Treatise on Chimneys, containing full Directions for constructing thtm in all cases so as.to draw well, and for removing smoke in houses. With a ['late. I2mo. price is. sewed. VI. Observations on planting and training timber trees, by Agricola. 8vo. price 45. boards. VII. The interest of Great Britain with regard to her American colonies Confidered. 8vo. price zs 6d. sewed. VIII. An accouut of toe present state of the Hebrides, with a map. 8vo. price 7$. boards. IX. A Practical.Treatise on Peat Moss, in two parts. 8vo. price 45. boards. X. An. Account of the different kinds of sheep found in the Rufiian do- minions, and among ;he Tartar hordes of Asia, by Dr. Pallas ; illustrated with six plates. To which is added, five appendixes, by Dr. Anderson. 8vo. price 5$. boards. XL Two Utters to Sir John Sinclair, baronet, on the subject of Mr. Elkington's mode of draining, price is. sewed. XII. The Bee, omusting of efsays philosophical, philological, and mis- cellaneous: intelligence respecting arts, literature, manufactures, &c. 18 vols, crown 8vo. with p'.atcs, price 4!. 4$. boards. XIII. Iv.m Ttaroviz, a tale, by the late Emprefs of Rufsia; translated from the Rufsian language; with a plate, 8vo. price is. sewed. 3 RECREATIONS IN AGRICULTURE. INTRODUCTION. THOUGH it be universally admitted, that agriculture is the most antient, the most useful, and the most necef- sary of all arts; though the very existence of the great- est part of mankind has depended upon it since the earliest period of time, and though the cultivators of the soil have been protected, and their efforts encou- raged by all wise governments in every part of the world; yet it is universally admitted by those who have practised it with the greatest succefs in modern times, that lefs progrefs has been made in it than in many other arts; and that our knowledge of agriculture as a science is yet in its infancy; though its principles, to those who view it at a distance, appear to be so simple, and so obvious, that almost every person, whose pur- suits have been otherwise directed, believes that he is much more capable of conducting the businefs of a farmer, than the actual farmer himself, whose sole VOL. I. A 2 Introduction. occupation it has been from his earliest infancy, and whose very subsistence depends upon his skill in it. How all this should have happened, long appeared to me a problem very difficult to solve; but after much reflection, I think I have, perhaps, discovered some of the principal circumstances that have tended to produce this singular retardment in the progrefs of this popular art; and as these causes must continue to operate after the same manner until they shall be removed, it is an important preparatory step to state these circumstances, as clearly as pofsible, in this place; more especially as it will be found, that a publication of the nature of that which I now commence, is, perhaps, better calculated to remove some of those obstructions, than any thing else could do. Many circumstances of a local nature, arising from national customs, prejudices, and laws, have tended, no doubt, to retard the advancement of agriculture in particular places; but it would be foreign to our pur- pose to enumerate these at present; it is those things only which, by operating universally at all times, and in all places, have had a general influence, that it con- cerns us now to develope. Mr. Locke began his efsay on the human under- standing, by shewing the necefsity of adverting to the precise meaning of words. The same thing ought to be done respecting agriculture; for we shall find, that the frequent use of words and phrases which have no precise and definite meaning affixed to them, has been one of the most powerful causes of that retardment which hath so justly excited our wonder. To give an example: every person who has but begun to enter Agriculture. 3 upon the study of agriculture, has heard of three or four grand divisions of soils, viz. clays, sands, loams, and gravels; and to each of these terms he annexes an appropriated idea, which particularly corresponds with the qualities of such soils as have been denominated clays, sands, loams, and gravels, in his native place; so that, whenever a soil of any of these denominations occurs to him, whether in conversation, or in writing, he thinks it must be somewhat similar in its nature and qualities to the soils which he hath been accustom- ed to discriminate by those names : but, as the clays of one region are extremely different from the clays of another region, some of the soils so called being en- dowed with almost inexhaustible fertility, while others are as justly characterised by that of insuperable ste- rility, and as there are innumerable shades between these two extremes; as it also happens, that there is a diversity equally great in regard to every other peculi- arity of clay, as that which respects its vegetative power; it must follow that, whenever a clayey soil is mentioned among any number of farmers, that single word must convey to each of them a separate idea; and as each of them thinks he understands the word perfectly well, they are not prepared to guard against the fallacy to which this gives birth, or to correct the errors which originate in this source. If it be like- wise adverted to, that a similar undefined diversity takes place in regard to soils of every other denomination, it will appear very obvious to every considerate person, that so long as this deficiency of language shall be unadverted to, agriculture, as a science, must be at a stand: for " Science/' as it has been well defined .by AV, 4 Introduction. a late miscellaneous writer (Mr. Jackson of Exeter) " is an accumulation of acquirements by a long suc- " cefsion of individuals, given to the world, and pre- (< served throughout all ages by the art of writing, and " more perfectly by that of printing; one man pofsefs- " ing former discoveries, begins where his predecefsors l( ceased, and, after extending the line of knowledge, fc leaves it to be farther extended by his succefsors." But so long as one man thus remains entirely ignorant of the precise meaning of the words that are employed by another, he cannot pofsibly be benefited by the acquirements w r hich that other shall have made; so that here the line must be broken, and each individual must begin with the knowledge that his own obser- vations furnish : nor is he able to communicate the knowledge he hath thus acquired to others, unlefs it be in a very imperfect degree to his own immediate descendants, or nearest neighbours, to whom he can point out the identical objects themselves with which he hath been conversant, and whose qualities he hath been able, in part, to ascertain. In this way we are enabled to account for a fact that must have attracted the notice of every agricultural observer, viz. that striking improvements in this line have ever been of a local nature; and that though these may advance rapidly for a certain time in a particular district, it has always been found to be a matter of no small difficulty to extend them into other districts, or to make them be adopted in other countries. But to understand the full force of this argument, it will be. necefsary to enter into some farther particulars. To return to soils. All the solid substances that are Agriculture. 5 found on this globe are so powerfully acted upon by the air and other agents, as to be in time thus divided into smaller pieces ; so that, after the lapse of many ages, they are reduced to a small powdery state of different degrees of finenefs, which, being blended with the detritus (the small fragments of bodies that have been produced by the influence of natural agents) of other bodies of a softer texture, forms a bed that is capable of imbibing moisture, and of retaining it in a certain degree, and of thus affording support to vege- tables of various kinds. This heterogeneous compound of small fragments constitutes the basis of all soils ; and, when mixed with the remains of vegetable or ani- mal matters, is called vegetable mold, or that super- ficial bed of fertile earth in which plants of all kinds find their principal nourishment and support. But though all the solid substances in nature are capable of being thus converted into earth, or soil,* yet the softer substances are so much more quickly reduced to an earthy texture than those which are harder, * The words earth, soil, and mold are used in a vague manner as nearly synonymous terms, though in strict propriety they admit of cer- tain discriminative shades of meaning. The earth is the general name of the planet which we inhabit, but in a more confined sense earth de- notes any heterogeneous mafs of fofsile substances mixed in small frag- ments, without having a necefsary reference t.o vegetable matters. Soil denotes the same fofsile fragments, but has always a reference to its being the bed from which plants spring up, and consequently implies that it is spread out upon the surface of this our globe. Mold denotes that this soil has been so long in its place as to have already sustained vegetables, and been impregnated with the matter they afford upon being decomposed; hence, as well as because it is more fertile than soils which are deprived of this, it is often denominated vegetable mold. 6 Introduction. that argillaceous, or clayey matter, is found to form an important constituent part of most soils in their natural state, wherever the ground has not been sub- jected to be washed by water. The quality of the soil, therefore, depends much upon the nature of the clay that enters into its composition. Agriculturists, in general, being accustomed to ope- rate upon mold as it presents itself to them in the mafs only, have not thought of adverting to the surprising diversity that occurs in regard to the qualities of clays (and other bodies that enter into its composition as original and constituent parts of the soil), as they are found in their native state; they have contented them- selves with remarking that all clays agree in pofsefsing the quality of imbibing moisture, and of thus be- coming a soft ductile paste; and because of this single point of resemblance, they have been too much accus- tomed to consider them as being somewhat similar in all their other qualities. But the manufacturer, who employs these substances in a purer state, finds that there is an inconceivable diversity in regard to the other qualities of clays. He finds some kinds, as ful- ler's earth, and some other of the softer boles, which pofsefs a very small degree of the cohesive quality others, as tills, which are so extremely viscid as to admit of being drawn out into threads almost like wire: some kinds are soft, and imbibe water so readily, as to admit of being cut, with the greatest ease, by any edged tool; while others are hard as stones, and do not, without great difficulty, admit of being reduced into a paste with water. The kind of clay which af- sumes in the fire the peculiar texture of the finest Agriculture. ^ porcelain, hath been as yet found in no part of the globe but China and Japan. It is only of late that we have discovered in Britain some kinds of argil (clay) that afford a fine earthen ware, which, in certain particu- lars, approximates to that of China, and other kinds of ware that the Chinese have not been able to imitate. In France also are found fine clays that admit of being manufactured into vessels that rival in beauty the finest China ware; but they have yet been able there to discover scarcely any of those kinds of clay which abound so much in Britain, and of which we make the better kinds of stone ware, and all that immensity of the lower priced earthen utensils, which minister so much to the comforts of the lower clafses of the peo- ple. The inference I wish to draw from this short state- ment of facts is simply this : were manufacturers to conduct themselves as speculative agriculturists have, done, those of France would say, that as the porce- lain of China, and the earthen wares of England are all made of clay, and as clay also abounds in many parts of France, they are pofsefsed of the means of making these manufactures in France of as good a quality as those of China and of Britain; and that they need be under no hesitation in boldly setting on foot these manufactures upon a large scale, with the afsured certainty of succefs. It is unnecefsary to state the disappointment that must result from such a rash enterprise, or the impofsibility of their making any rational progress in the improvement of that manu- facture, until they shall resolve to make themselves 8 Introduction. better acquainted with the nature of the materials on which they are to work. The qualities of different kinds of clay do not less affect the agriculturist than the manufacturer; and until he shall become sensible of this, and know how to discriminate the one kind from the other, he must be perpetually in danger of being led into error if he attempt to profit by the experience of another, even where that experience hath been faithfully recorded; for that which succeeded with the one will totally fail with the other, under circumstances where he was un- able to perceive any difference. The actual farmer, therefore, when he is advised to practise what he is, perhaps with truth, afsured hath perfectly succeeded in another district, listens, as he ought, to such advice with caution. Books he finds so often recommending what he knows would not answer with him, that he imbibes a general prejudice against all books, and all men who endeavour to introduce improvements which are not known in the district where he resides : and he has so often occasion to see the fatal consequences that attend the rash enterprises of sanguine innovators, who, having no idea of circumstances of the kind above stated, run with a headstrong career to their own undo- ing, that he is the more and more confirmed, the longer he lives, in his idea of not listening to any ex- traneous information whatever. Thus are the sources of that information which alone could give existence and support to agriculture as a science totally dried ap. There is, perhaps, no solid substance in this uni- Agriculture. 9 verse which, after having been operated upon for a sufficient length of time by natural agents, is not fitted to sustain some plant; but some of these natural sub- stances are found to be much better suited to that purpose than others. Some kinds of earthy matters are capable of sustaining a great variety of plants in a state of vigorous growth within a very short time after they are spread out on the surface of the earth, while others require to be exposed for many years before they are capable of sustaining any kind of plant what- ever, and at last can only nourish a few kinds j and of the few plants which can be made to grow upon them, some are so minute as to be scarcely perceptible ; and the seeds of others which would grow upon these soils with greater vigour being not always to be found in that neighbourhood, they remain for a long time perfectly bare and destitute of any vegetable cloathing. The first are universally called fertile, and the latter unfertile, or barren soils. Soils abounding in metallic impregnations are, in general, of the sterile clafs, and among these the re- fuse of lead mines is one of the most remarkable for sterility. Yet even this soil, which is so peculiarly poisonous to most plants, is found to rear in perfection one plant, which grows upon it with luxuriance, and can scarcely be made to live on any other soil. This singular plant is called Arenaria verna. I saw it growing with great luxuriance in the garden of Sir Joseph Banks. But before he could succeed in raising it, he was obliged to send to the mines for a tub of its native lead rubbish, which, having been put into a pit made in his garden for that purpose, soon be- 10 Introduction. came covered with this plant, though it had been found to be impofsible to preserve it alive in Kew gardens, and other places where it had been tried in a soil not adulterated by any metallic impregnation. In the garden of Sir Joseph, this small patch of rub- bish appeared to be as fertile as other parts of the garden: but if the seeds of this plant had been there wanting, that soil would have been found to be insu- perably sterile in regard to every other plant. It happens, however, that some of those earthy sub- stances, which in themselves are rather of the infertile kind, when mixed with others, act upon them in such a way as to render them much more productive than they otherwise would have been. Perhaps there are diversities of terrene matters which operate in this way; but calcareous matter is the only one which is known to operate as an universal fertiliser, in regard to the common plants that are cultivated by man. Other substances we have seen produce a contrary effect, and render the soil less capable of producing those plants which are useful to man than they natu- rally would have been. In this manner, soils which were radically the same, and which cannot be discri- minated from each other by any peculiarity perceptible by the eye of a common observer, may, neverthelefs, for the purposes of agriculture, be extremely different : for the one may be capable of rearing crops in great perfection that could not be made to grow at all upon the other; or may be powerfully operated upon by sub- stances in the one case, which produce no sensible effect in the other. And as these mixtures are effected by nature in a way that is, for the most part, totally Agriculture. \ l unknown to us; and such powerful effects are, on some occasions, produced from so minute a degree of im- pregnation as would elude the power of the skilful chemist to make manifest; it is no wonder if mankind in general, who seldom advert to nice discriminations, should upon this subject meet with so many facts which appear to be contradictory and inexplicable; or, that philosophers, who too often disdain to acknowledge themselves foiled in any case, should boldly resolve to cut the knot they could not untie, by roundly denying the existence of facts for which they knew not how to account. By way of illustrating these positions, I shall beg leave here to state a few facts that have come to my knowledge referable to this head. Mr. Billingsley, in his excellent account of Somersetshire lately published, takes notice of a field in that county on which he saw growing the nineteenth succefsive crop of wheat, with- out the aid of any manure during all that time, or the intervention of a fallow, or a green or hoed crop of any sort, and the crops all that while continued to be good. There are, no doubt, many soils in this king- dom which are to appearance the same with the above, some of which could scarcely have afforded one good crop of wheat without fallow or manure, and few of them which could have produced more than two good consecutive crops under similar circumstances, although many of these soils could have been made to produce one crop perhaps more luxuriant than the first of the nineteen. If we try to ascertain the cause of this kind of inexhaustible fertility when com- pared with other soils which were equally prolific at 12 Introduction. the beginning, I suppose it will be difficult to find a considerate man who will presume to say that he knows them, and fewer still who, if they venture to decide, will be able to support their hypotheses by facts that are undeniably established. That certain soils are affected by particular manures, which do not produce a similar effect upon other soils which are apparently of the same nature, is a fact which, though known to a few, is not so much attended to as it oua'ht to be by the bulk of cultivators. In certain districts lime produces a most striking effect, so as at one dressing to double, or quadruple, the average amount of produce; in other districts, where the soil is apparently extremely similar to the former, the improvement produced by this application is scarcely at all perceptible; and in other cases it produces not the smallest effect whatever. In regard to another par- ticular, a case of this sort occurred to myself at a very early period of life. Having had an opportunity of purchasing some horn shavings, these were strewed upon a field at the rate of about fifty stones per acre. The effect of this manure was compared with that of a good dressing of well rotted yard dung. The produce in this case, on an average of three crops, was about one fifth of the whole in favour of the horn shavings. Some years afterwards the same experiment was made on a field in a different district, the soil of which appeared to me, and others who examined them both, to be pre- cisely of the same sort with the former; but the result was totally different. The dung in this case augmented the crop to nearly the half of its whole amount; the horn shavings produced no sensible effect whatever. Agriculture. 13 It has been often afserted, that common salt operates very powerfully upon soils; so that when applied in too great quantities, it is said to render them incapable of producing, for several years together, any green thing ; but that in time the soil recovers from this temporary sterility, and when it does so it is said to be much more productive for some time than it was before the salt was applied. But if the salt be not applied in an over proportion, it is said to increase at once the fertility of the soil to a considerable degree. These facts have been so confidently stated by many writers, that I can- not entertain a doubt of its being so upon some soils; but afsuredly the result of the same application is ex- tremely different on others. To ascertain the power of this substance as a manure in my own particular case, and at the same time to discover the effect of it when applied in various proportions, I described a circle of one yard radius on a smooth piece of grafs lawn, and leaving a pin in the centre, I put salt around that pin till it lay there at least one inch in thicknefs; from thence salt was scattered over the whole, gradu- ally decreasing in thicknefs towards the circumference of the circle; as it approached the extremest verge it was exceedingly thin. This was done in the spring season; the weather was very favourable for the ex- periment, as the dews slowly difsolved the whole salt which sunk gently into the ground without having been washed away by any violent dash of rain. The result was, that no perceptible difference ever was ob- served between that patch and the adjoining parts of the lawn, so that the area of the experimental plot could never have been afterwards discovered, had not 14 Introduction. the pin been suffered to remain for two years to mark the place. That some soils will produce certain plants in per- fection, while they are totally incapable of producing others, is a fact that has been long known and admit- ed, though many of the consequences that must ne- cefsarily result from it have not been sufficiently ad- verted to. Soils that superabound with calcareous matter produce luxuriant crops of sain-foin when they are even so much exhausted, or, in the language of the farmer, so poor, as to afford but a very scanty produce of any of the other crops usually cultivated in this country 7 ; while other soils that may be called fertile, because they yield abundance of other produce, can never be made to afford a tolerable crop of sain-foin. In the same manner calcareous soils, which have been long in cultivation, and frequently manured, will yield abundant crops of barley, though oats, when reared under these circumstances, are comparatively weak and puny. On the other hand, many crude soils, that do not contain naturally any calcareous impregnation, and that have never been cultivated or manured, will fre- quently afford very luxuriant crops of oats, when first broken up, though barley, under these circumstances, could scarcely be made to grow upon them : so that ground may be very rich in respect to one kind of crop, and sterile with regard to another. A few cases of this sort have been remarked by some attentive ob- servers; but there are, no doubt, innumerable cases re- ferable to this head, which have never been adverted to, and which of course could not contribute in any way to add to the progrefs of agriculture as a science, Agriculture. 15 though this circumstance must necefsarily have a con- siderable influence on the practice of actual farmers in particular districts; for it is impofsible for them not to remark, in the course of time, which of the crops usually cultivated by them yield in general the most profitable returns, and of course these crops will be there reared in preference to others, though these last in another district may be justly accounted of inferior value. Many other facts might here be stated, tending to demon- strate the folly of a stranger in any district pretending boldly to condemn practices which may to him appear to be improper, merely because they would have been so in his native place: but this would lead me too far. It is enough to have given this glimpse for the purpose of inducing caution. A presumptuous con- fidence in regard to matters of this sort is usually a strong indication of ignorance. A sufficient degree of experience will never fail to convince any liberal mi,nd, that common sense influences the conduct of the bulk of the people in regard to the ordinary affairs of life in every district, however far they may fall short of attain- able perfection. The examples already adduced are sufficient, I hope, to show that soils may be infinitely diversified in re- gard to their agricultural qualities (if this exprefsion maybe admitted), while their external appearance shall be so little varied as to render it a matter of extreme difficulty for any person to judge of their qualities merely from inspection. To show what a small degree of impregnation of some of the substances which are naturally found in this globe will be sufficient to pro- duce very important changes on the qualities of a soil, 16 Introduction. I shall just beg leave to state here the result of one other experiment. I had a field of good arable land, a mellow loam, in Aberdeenshire, which had been long in culture, often drefsed with animal and vegetable manures, and was of course endowed with a considerable degree of general fertility; but being full of weeds, it was sub- jected to a thorough summer fallow, in order to get rid of these, and bring it into a proper tilth in other re- spects; and as lime is found to be an active manure in that district, it had a moderate drefsing of lime put upon it, and some dung at the same time. The whole field was sown with wheat at the proper season, which sprang up equally thick in every part of it. For some time-no difference was perceivable in the appearance of the crop over the whole ; but by and by it was observed that the wheat on a small portion of the field, which by accident had not had any lime put upon it, became pale and sickly. While the crop on the other parts of the field advanced luxuriantly, it dwindled on this par- ticular patch more and more, till toward the begin- ning of May ; the whole had then died quite out, and not one stalk of wheat was to be found upon it, though the weeds, in consequence of the richnefs of the soil at that time, grew there with extreme luxuriance. Per- haps the proportion of calcareous matter did not in this case amount to more than one thousandth part of the whole; yet the qualities of the soil were thereby totally altered, insomuch that, though before the ap- plication of that drefsing the soil was incapable of pro- ducing wheat at all, it was found to be at all times, after that period, well adapted for the rearing of this Agriculture. 1 7 crop. Nature hath formed many soils with a similar proportion of calcareous matter blended imperceptibly in them over large districts of land. The qualities of soils are, in like manner, affected by unobserved ad- ditions of other matters, which more effectually elude our notice than even this small proportion of calca- reous matter. From these facts we may draw this natural inference, that so long as the particulars above described are over- looked by farmers, the study of agriculture, as a sci- ence, can scarcely have a beginning; and that, of course, the experience of one man can serve but in a very slight degree to regulate the practice of another. When we farther recollect, that the same uncertainty of language prevails in regard to the different breeds of animals and varieties of plants which can become objects of attention to the farmer, as that which we have explained respecting soils (though it would be improper to enter farther into these details at present), we shall soon be satisfied, that, instead of being sur- ' o prized to find that agriculture hath made such small advances, there is great reason to wonder how it should have made so much. The truth is, that the good sense and best interests of practical farmers have concurred in producing among this clafs of men a steady attachment to local experience, which hath so far withstood that rage for innovation which vanity and ignorance so naturally ingender, as to produce an im- perfect kind of scientifical progrefs in particular dis- tricts, by the transmifsion from father to son, and neighbour to neighbour, of information derived from personal experience. One of the principal objects of VOL. I. B 18 Introduction. the work in which we are about to engage will be to augment this kind of progrefs in a small degree, and to extend its influence a little farther than it naturally would go. Another circumstance which hath tended greatly to retard the progrefs of agriculture, when compared to that of other arts, is the great length of time that is required to ascertain any fact respecting it. In most other arts a few hours, or days, or weeks, only can be required to establish the truth or falsity of any fact that is doubted, but in agriculture it seldom happens that any truth can be ascertained in lefs than a year; and fortunate would it be if the facts thus seemingly ascertained could be relied upon : but the circumstances which may vary the result of an experiment in agricul- ture are so extremely numerous, and in many cases so little obvious, as totally to escape the notice of the experimenter, and frequently to induce him to draw a conclusion very different from the truth. Hence recorded experience often becomes a source of error in this art, instead of producing that certainty which was wanted; and the practical farmer who should impli- citly rely upon the information derived from such sources, would find himself only bewildered in a laby- rinth in which he might anxiously wander throughout his whole life without advancing one step; or, even the seeming progrefs he shall think he makes may, in some cases, prove to be merely retrograde move- ments. What adds to the difficulties of the agriculturist who relies on the facts that he may derive from extraneous sources, is the danger he runs of being imposed upon, Agriculture. 19 not only by the erroneous results of experience faith- fully recorded, but still more especially by the falla- cious result of ideal experiments which never had any existence but in the imagination of the writer. Un- fortunately for the cause of truth, and the advance- ment of agriculture as a science, this kind of fraud may be easily practised, without danger of immediate detection, on account of the difficulty of distinguishing intentional fraud from erroneous integrity; and also because this mode of writing is by far the most likely to become beneficial to the author himself, of any that he could adopt; for he can thus write more plausibly, and can give a much more satisfactory solution of every difficulty he chooses to bring under view, than the per- son who, by a conscientious discharge of his duty, finds himself often obliged to interrupt the progrefs of his reader by the frequent recurrence of those bars which unavoidably obstruct his way. Those then who write on this subject with a view to derive immediate profit from their works, find it their interest to adopt this mode of writing, being little apprehensive that the fallacy of their statements will be clearly discovered until they shall have derived the whole profit they expected from such books. Writers on agriculture also often mislead their read- ers without having had the most distant idea of fraud. Nothing hath a more fascinating power over the mind of man than a spirit of system ; nor is it pofsible for even the strongest minds at all times effectually to resist its influence. Men of vigorous understandings, however, struggle against it; but those of lefs sound intellects, whose imaginations are lively, for the most part, yield 20 Introduction. to its seductive impulses with a most willing obedi- ence. They no sooner see a glimpse of what has the appearance of a fact, than it suggests to their imagi- nations a train of ideas of the most bewitching kind. It tends to explain, as they think, certain phenomena which were before inexplicable. This done, it serves as a key to lay open new arcana : other vague notions which had formerly floated in the mind, without hav- ing had any firm foundation to support them, are now recollected as facts, of the truth of which, because they tend so exactly to support the embryo system, there can now be no doubt. In this manner the mind proceeds in the agreeable task of generalising with a most rapturous ecstasy; and, rising in dignity as it feels its creative powers expand, it sweeps along, with tri- umphant glory, in its exalted sphere, without being embarafsed by any of those obstructive bars which perpetually retard the progrefs of little men, as they think those are who, laying hold of particulars only, busy themselves continually in turning and twisting facts with a view to discover that truth of which they find it so difficult to satisfy themselves. Is it a wonder that writers of this adventurous sort should produce per- formances of a very entertaining cast in agriculture; or, that the unwary reader, believing in the trirth of these reveries as sincerely as the writer himself, should be led, like the votaries of Circe, to run in a bewitch- ing delirium, with a rapid career, to his own undoing? From these causes a general prejudice hath long pre- vailed among practical farmers against books on agricul- ture, which hath been attended with a numerous train of bad consequences. It has, in the first place, ren- Agriculture. 21 dered the practice of quackish impositions in this line much more easy than it otherwise would have been; for actual farmers are much more capable than any other clafs of persons of discriminating between fallacious representations and those which are true; but by de- spising the whole in the mafs the public are deprived of this power of discrimination, and the ignorant must be left to judge only by what appears to themselves the most plausible upon a general perusal : those writ- ings, therefore, which are the most amusing, and which hold up to the view the highest hopes of suc- cefs to the sanguine speculator, will, in general, prove the most beneficial to the writer by obtaining a tem- porary popularity, though they frequently prove in the end most ruinous to those who follow them as guides. In the next place, this indiscriminate prejudice hath produced a disagreeable estrangement between prac- tical farmers and amateurs of agriculture, which is highly detrimental to both. In the eyes of the ama- teur the mere practical farmer is accounted a narrow- minded, obstinate, perverse animal, who is determined, in spite of what he, the amateur, deems the clearest demonstration, to plod on to all eternity in the path his forefathers had trodden, without the smallest attempt at improvement; and the farmer, in his turn, laughs at the amateur as a visionary, who, mistaking dreams for realities, is in hopes of obtaining immense treasures by those very steps that the cautious farmer knows will often end in his own ruin. How ill founded these prejudices are on both sides when carried thus far, every liberal minded man, who hath adverted particu- larly to this subject, must know: although he must 22 Introduction. acknowledge that there is some foundation for it on both sides: he will also acknowledge that few things are more to be regretted than this estrange- ment; because nothing could pofsibly tend so effec- tually to reduce within proper bounds these errors on both sides, as a mutual intercourse of respectful good offices between them. Were this to be the case, we should not have occasion so peculiarly to regret the third, and greatest evil that results from the prejudice of farmers against every kind of literary information in the line of their own profefsion, which is, that farmers, from the nature of their businefs, being necefsarily detained much .at home, the sphere of their observation is of course extremely limited: it follows that they may long remain unacquainted with some beneficial practices that might perfectly apply to their own cases, had they been in a situation that admitted of receiving complete information respecting it. To remove these difficulties, and to establish a chan- nel of information that may be as little liable to objec- tion by these two different descriptions of men, as per- haps any other that could be devised, was one of the principal objects that suggested the idea of the following performance. The writer of it was born a farmer, and has followed that employment as a businefs for the best part of half a century. He hath lived among farmers as companions and as friends, and well knows that solidity of judgment may be deemed a general characteristic of this clafs of men, in as far as their degree of information extends. He hath also been acquainted from his in- fancy with literary men, and with those in the higher orders of society, to whose profefsional foibles (if the Agriculture. 23 phrase may be admitted), although he could not shut his eyes, yet neither could he be blind to that libe- rality of mind and general benevolence of character which operates powerfully among them, where they can be divested of those prejudices to which their situ- ations in life so strongly expose them on many oc- casions. Knowing thus as he does, and respecting both these clafses of men, whose mutual interest and welfare may be so much augmented by the cordial good wishes of each other, he is in hopes of being able so to conduct his work, as to make it tend to soften some of those asperities on both sides which have produced a lasting estrangement that hath been deeply prejudicial to each. If he should be so fortunate as happily to suc- ceed in this attempt, it will prove a source of much satisfaction to him ; as it will enable him to lay the foundation of apian of inquiry which, if faithfully pur- sued, will tend to remove many of those obstructions that have so long retarded the progrefs of agriculture. To effect these purposes it is his intention, during the cotirse of this work, to make a complete agricultural survey ,of every part of this island, with a view to enable him to point out every practice respecting agriculture and rural affairs, which he -shall think might prove in any respect beneficial if they w r ere generally known. These descriptions he will endeavour to make as con- cise as is consistent with accuracy, and will accompany them with such hints as his experience shall suggest, for the purpose of more accurate discriminations, or farther improvements. As the work advances, these hints will become more and more interesting; because new lights occurring will enable former errors to be L'-i Introduction. corrected, and deficiencies supplied. In this survey, for the sake of the requisite brevity, all common-place descriptions will be avoided; and thus we shall get clear of those tiresome repetitions of objects of the same kind, the unavoidable recurrence of which, in detached county surveys, must ever render a continued perusal of these in succefsion an intolerable labour. For these reasons, in the survey now proposed, no object will be so much as once mentioned which is not thought capable of affording some sort of practical information that renders it deserving of record; nor will it be con- sidered under any other point of view than that alone which serves to render it worthy of notice on that par- ticular occasion. To effect all this without confusion, it is proposed to give once for all a particular and de- tailed account of every agricultural practice that occurs within the bounds of this island; each of which de- scriptions will be given with the most minute accuracy, as the practice is actually carried on by the best farmers in the district which is deemed the foremost in regard to that particular article. In giving this description, care will be taken not to blend the smallest share of ideal improvement with the facts thus will the errors of the writer run no risk of adulterating the practice of the farrier. When the facts are clearly stated, reason- ing may follow. They cannot then be confounded ; and the reader has it in his power at all times to reject the one, while he adopts the other if he shall see cause. When a particular practice has been thus once de- scribed, any important variation in regard to it that may occur elsewhere will be noticed, referring to the former. In this manner it is to be hoped that we Agriculture. 25 shall be ,able, if health permit, to give a more correct account of British practice in regard to agriculture, and the circumstances which make variations some- times necefsary, than hath been hitherto obtained of any other country. It is the wish of the author also to give the same kind of survey of the agriculture of the Netherlands, from which he thinks many useful practical hints might be derived by the British farmer. The soil in these districts may be said to have grown old under a state of cultivation; and with age it must have acquired many qualities it did not pofsefs in its youth. To as- certain, with a due discrimination, what those qualities of age are, would be an important lefson in agriculture, which seems to be much wanted by many of those who pretend to lead the judgment of the public in re- spect to rural improvements in Britain: but, unlefs we shall have the felicity to see peace restored to Europe, we must forego the prospect of this blefsing along with many others that would accompany it. To give some idea to those who have not thought on the subject of the effects of age upon a cultivated soil, I shall here mention a fact that struck me as being not a little singular at the time it occurred. At Dunstaffnage, near Oban in Argyleshire, Scotland, which is a mountainous country, and naturally a bar- ren soil, a small garden was pointed out to me, on which was growing at the time one of the finest crops of onions I had ever seen. I took notice of it with some degree of surprise, because I had seen no other crop of onions in that district that was tolerable: but my surprise was a good deal augmented on being told 26 Introduction. that the present crop in that garden was by no means remarkable: that it had been cropped with onions, year after year, for time immemorial : that the present owner of it, who was a man above eighty years of age, had never seen any other crop than onions upon that ground; and that the oldest person alive, when he was a boy, had told him the same thing, and that the crop was always an excellent one. Dunstaffnage was a royal palace belonging to the kings of Scotland at an early period of their history, almost beyond record; and there can be little reason to doubt that this garden was brought under cultivation at that time, so that it cannot now be lefs than five hundred years old, and probably several hundred years more. I question much if the soil could have been rendered capable of producing succefsive crops of such fine onions for a great many years after it was first turned up from the waste, by any device that the ingenuity of man could have suggested. To judge, then, of the most profitable mode of cropping such old soils, by the same rules that would apply to those which had not had time to be fully matured, would be very absurd. Many cases of this sort would, no doubt, occur on our survey of the Netherlands, could it be properly effected. Besides the above, there are other circumstances that have had a considerable influence in retarding the pro- grefs of agriculture. There are two ways in which facts respecting this department of science may be at- tained, experience and experiment; but both are lia- ble to objections, which render their decisions, in many cases, fallacious. By the word experience, we denote those deductions that a man draws as the aver- Agriculture. 27 age result of practice continued for many years; and, although this be undoubtedly the surest guide that a man can follow, where his observations are sufficiently accurate, and the circumstances so clearly discrimi- nated as to occasion no sort of confusion; yet, where these peculiarities are wanting, the deductions thus obtained may be extremely fallacious. What serves to augment the evil in this case is, that if conclusions have been once drawn, in consequence of an imperfect discrimination of circumstances, there is scarcely any hope of eradicating that error; because the mind, once accustomed to move in a certain track, delights to pro- ceed in the same track ever after; and the same indis- crimination which produced the first error, will induce a succefsion of errors of the same sort ad injinitum. But it happens, unfortunately, that in agriculture, things which may affect the result of an operation are sq jumbled together, and confounded into one cha- otic mafs, that it becomes a matter of extreme diffi- culty for the nicest observer to discriminate those that are efsential from the merely accidental, so that it is the easiest thing imaginable for the one to be mistaken for the other. The inaccuracy also which too much prevails in the operations of agriculture respecting the actual expense of different. operations as affecting any one individual object, as well as the difficulty of keep- ing separate the different produce of each field, renders it impofsible for the actual farmer in most cases to ascertain with any tolerable precision either the ex- pense or the value of the produce of any one of his fields ; so that the profit or lofs of any one operation are merely guefsed at, not ascertained by his experience; 58 Introduction. and of course he is at liberty, and will naturally draw the conclusion that seems to confirm his own precon- ceived notions upon that head. Experience then, un- ' der these circumstances, is a very fallacious guide. It may indeed give indications of what ought to be pursued or avoided; but, unlefs facts shall be ascer- tained with a greater degree of precision than that in general admits of, they must afford a very unstable foundation for any kind of scientific progrefs. Experiment hath been adopted with a view to sup- ply these deficiencies of experience in agriculture; and though it promises fair at the first view to effect these purposes, yet upon a nearer inspection it hath not been found altogether adequate. An experiment in agriculture is a particular operation, undertaken with a view to elucidate some fact that is doubtful : extreme accuracy, therefore, to guard against every circum- stance that might unintentionally affect the result, is an indispensable requisite in every experiment; for, unlefs this be done, the same experiment, under dif- ferent circumstances, may lead to a variety of con- clusions. But farmers", in general, having been little accustomed to the nice discriminations of scientific investigation, are but poorly qualified to guard against the secret influence of causes, which they have never ?o much as suspected of having any power upon the result of their experiment. From these causes the experiments made by actual farmers often prove ex- tremely defective; and when amateurs of a higher rank project experiments, the detail of these experi- ments must be left to servants and dependants, who, in general, put down at random all the circumstances Agriculture. 29 that their carelefsnefs prevented them from observing; so that these experiments, though they afsume a more engaging appearance of accuracy, are in fact, for the most part, more inaccurate and erroneous than the former. To remedy these evils, the idea of an experimental farm lias occurred to many persons as the only means of accelerating the progrefs of scientific agriculture; and the benefits that would accrue from it are indeed so obvious when slightly adverted to, that the gentle- men in several districts of Britain have gone so far as to provide a fund for the support of an establishment of this kind : but upon a near investigation of the sub- ject, they have all found difficulties in the way which they have not been able hitherto to surmount. In- deed it is so rare to meet with a person of a mind suf- ficiently enlightened to be able to comprehend the circumstances that are of efsential import in an expe- riment, and to discriminate them from those that are not, and who is at the same time actuated by so much zeal in the cause, and endowed with such per- severing afsiduity, as to resolve to see all with his own eyes, without ever suffering himself to be so far drawn aside by some favourite pursuit as never to neglect it, that we have scarcely room to hope that such a man can ever be found. If such a person could even be disco- vered, he must be very particularly circumstanced indeed to induce him to think of undertaking such a charge. His circumstances must be so narrow; as to render the salary annexed to his office a pecuniary object of great importance to him, while his disinte- restednefs, or integrity, must be also such as to raise SO Introduction. him far above the suspicion of appropriating to his own use the smallest iota beyond it. He must, at the same time, have a firmnefs of mind that is not to be diverted from stating what he sees to be necefsary at all times, and to oppose every thing that he knows would prove detrimental to the undertaking. Without these requisites in the conductor, the end of the insti- tution must be frustrated; because there would be no proper balance to counteract the unfounded projects of many of the pecuniary supporters of the institu- tion. But where is the body of men to be found who would admit the idea of having a sen-ant, as they would deem such a man to be, invested with a power thus to controul their will: or, will any man who pofsefses the superiority of mind we here suppose, condescend to put himself into the humiliating situ- ation that such an office necefsarily must imply ? I think the circumstance utterly impofsible. If the salary were made high, persons of influence, who were very unfit to discharge the duties of the office, would make interest to obtain it; and, by means of that influence, and a polite conviviality of behaviour, would retain it, to the satisfaction, it is probable, of all the parties concerned, though the object of the institution would thus be totally defeated. If the salary were low, the director must become a poor dependent thing, who would court the favour of some powerful mem- bers of the institution, and become a tool in their hands to effect some favourite purpose they had in view, which would soon produce a disgust among the body in general of the supporters of the institution, and necefsarily hasten its total difsolution. Agriculture. 31 D For these reasons my hopes of the benefits to be de- rived from the establishment of an experimental farm are by no means so sanguine as those of many others. Indeed there are many experiments of the very first importance in scientific agriculture which are totally beyond the sphere of an experimental farm. Of this nature are all those facts which respect the original con- stitution of soils, and the infinitely diversified, though little obvious qualities these pofseis in consequence of peculiar impregnations they may have derived from the operations of nature, or of art. An experimental farm is, in regard to this particular, precisely the same as another farm, in which the experimenter, like the farmer, may in time acquire a knowledge of what will suit his own soil. But if these experiments were pub- lished under the idea that the results should be deemed generally conclusive in all districts, this decision would prove fallacious, because it would soon be found, that in many other cases the results were extremely different. Neither could the practical farmer derive much benefit from the experimental farm in regard to the economical arrangements necefsary to be adopted in the conduct of his businefs, a department of agri- culture which is of the very highest importance to be well understood by the practical fanner, and which is totally incompatible with the complex arrangements and ever-varying operations of an experimental farm. From these considerations it will appear nothing surprising that the progrefs of scientific agriculture should have been hitherto slow : nor can our hopes of seeing: it rapidly advance in future be extremely san- guine; yet something may be done. The plan adopt- 32 Introduction. ed in the present undertaking seems to be at least as well calculated for that purpose as any other that hath yet been made public. A long course of practice on various soils, and under different circumstances, have obliged the editor to advert to many particulars which practical farmers differently situated have sel- dom occasion to feel. This induced early habits of attention, which were augmented by the accuracy that a connected train of scientific pursuits necefsarily produced. Under these circumstances it may be hoped that some facts may be picked up by him from an actual survey, which, by being compared with others that have elsewhere occurred, may lead to conclusions that never could have been inferred from the same facts if they had been singly considered. These being pub- lished, and diffused pretty generally among practical farmers, if this miscellany should be so fortunate as to find its way thither, would bring forward facts from other quarters either to corroborate or to controvert these conclusions. Where discrepancies occurred, they would give rise to accurate elucidations, which would lead to experiments for farther discrimination of cir- cumstances. These experiments, if in any respect de- fective, would undergo a critical investigation, tending to point out the circumstances that were still wanted to give the certainty required, and the means of attain- ing them. Many experiments might thus be made in the course of one year in a variety of districts, and on a diversity of soils. These being published, would tend, in their turn, to enlarge the mind of the reader, and give rise to discriminative ideas which could never otherwise have existed there, and would thus check Agriculture. 33 that .habit of indiscriminate decisivenefs which is ever the necefsary attendant of partial knowledge. Instead of resting contented with the very limited attainments they have already made, farmers would then have their minds roused into a state of active research ; and more progrefs might thus be made in a single year, than probably will be made without such aids in a century. Could a work be thus faithfully conducted for a suffi- cient length of time, the benefits to be derived from it to society at large, are incalculable. All the editor can rationally propose is, to give it a commencement, and he shall deem himself fortunate if he shall be per- mitted to put it in such a train as to enable another to continue it with success. With a view to enable the reader to advert to cir- cumstances of importance as they may incidentally fall within the sphere of his observation, the remain- ing pages of this introduction shall be appropriated to a brief enumeration of the principal circumstances that it behoves the agriculturist to be acquainted with be- fore he can be said to be an adept in that profefsion. Two good effects will result from this systematic ar- rangement. First, It will serve to prevent the farmer from inadvertently overlooking any particular that it imports him to know in the department to which he hath attached himself: and secondly, it will enable him to discriminate with a greater degree of accuracy than he otherwise might have done, those particulars that are already known, from those which, by not hav- ing been hitherto ascertained, require a more particu- lar degree of elucidation. As it is not the intention VOL. I. C 34 Introduction. of the author to pursue any systematic plan in the work he now enters upon, but merely to describe, with all the accuracy he is able, beneficial practices wherever he shall find them, in the order they shall oc- cur, and to accompany these with such remarks as the occasion shall suggest, the systematic synopsis he now offers will be the more necessary to unite, as it were, the detached remarks that will occur, in one con- nected whole; as the reader will be thus enabled to assign to each observation, when it occurs, its proper place in the system. Synopsis of a systematic arrangement of the several objects that ought to be adverted to by an agricul- tural inquirer. FIRST. On vegetation in general. 1. Inquiries concerning the food of plants 2. of the formation, structure, and absorption of roots 3. of the formation, structure, and uses of leaves, hairs, claspers, spines, See. 4. of the fructification of plants 5. of the germination of seeds 6. of the uses of soil in promoting vegetation. These discussions belong more properly to the class of natural physics than to agriculture; and they will of course come to be explained under that department of our work. But no person can be said to understand the principles of agriculture without adverting to .these. It is thus that every department of science borrows aid from otheis; nor can any person be master of any one department without being, in some mea- sure, conversant with the whole. Agriculture. 3.5 SECOND. Of soils. 1 . Clayey soils. 2. Sandy. 3. Gravelly. 4. Chalky. 5. Loam. 6. Vegetable mould on its composition: circumstances which tend to promote or retard its for- mation. 7. Sharp soils, or those which are of a firm and gritty texture. 8. Deaf soils, or those which are of a soft and blunt texture, as opposed to the former. 9. Strong soils, or clays of a weighty and cohesive texture. 10. Heavy soils. Mere weight will be found to be a distinction of soils worthy of attention, inde- pendent of their other qualities. 1 1. Puffy soils, or those that seem to heave up when left untouched, and shrink considerably under the pressure of the foot when trod upon. 12. Peat earth. 13. Heath earth. 14. Burnt earth. 15. Soils produced by an imperfect decomposition of solid vegetable matters; as tan, husks of oats, and various other substances. Few persons can ever have occasion in practice to become acquainted with all these diversities of soils; but they are all known by practical farmers in some of the districts of Britain. It is only from practice and attentive observation that the knowledge of the qualities of these different soils, under the various modifications that they can be made to assume, can be obtained ; and it will become an important part of the business of the editor in his proposed survey of the kingdom, to discriminate these soils with all the accuracy in his power, and to mark the modifications they assume when variously blended together, the crops that are found to be best adapted to each, and "the culture which suits them; with other practical inferences. C 2 36 Introduction. The nature of soils may be judged of, a from their natural appearance: but this is a mode liable to great objections, owing to the want of a sufficient degree of experience by most men on different soils; I by their chemical analysis : but this requires such nicety as to prevent it from being to be depended on by farmers in general, or, indeed, to have much stress laid upon it by any one; c by the nature of the plants it pro- duces, their degree of luxuriance, 8cc. This last, under proper modifications, is less liable to objection than any of the other modes of judging; but it is still defective. In the course of this work, these parti- culars will come to be more minutely investigated. THIRD. Of substances which when mixed with a soil tend to render it less fertile than it would otherwise have been. These have heretofore been less adverted to than their importance in agriculture claims : nor do we well know in what manner the pernicious effects of each may be the easiest counteracted. The following substances are nearly the whole that are as yet known to have that baneful tendency. 1. Metallic impregnations, on which we have touched a little in the foregoing part of this introduction* 2. Coaly substances. 3. Pyrites, or sulphur, in its native state. 4. Acids. 5. Cer- tain vegetable substances. Of this nature in particular, there is good reason to believe, is the remains of heath after it has been reduced by time to the state of earth. There may be other vegetables that have a similar ten- dency, which have never been observed, Agriculture. 37 FOURTH. Manures, or sulstances that meliorate the soil, and render it more productive. These have been more adverted to than the former, and are much better known. The principal substances that have been observed to have this fertilising ten- dency, are as follow. 1. Animal dung, viz. a of horses, afses, mules; I of cattle; c of swine ; d of sheep ; e of rabbits ; fof pigeons ; g of geese ; h of poultry, i of man, human ordure, or night soil, as it is sometimes called. 2. Animal sulstances, to which head are referable, a horn-shavings ; I woollen rags ; c bones ; d hair ; e feathers; f blood and offals ; g fish and fishy offals ; h oily matters ; i urine, which might perhaps have been equally relt-able to the former head, being an excrementitious matter. 3. Vegetable sulstances. Those belonging to this class, which have been chiefly used in Britain, are, a sea weeds; I pond weeds, and fresh water plants; c green crops plowed down while yet in a growing state; d tan bark, leaves, &c.; e saw-dust; f malt dust; g oil cakes; h fern ; i rotted 'straw; k peat, if this substance be admitted to be a vegetable produc- tion ; / turnips rotted on the ground by the severity of the weather. 4. Mineral sulstances and chemical preparations. Under this head the following substances may be in- cluded, viz. a lime; I marie; c chalk; d shelly sand; e limestone - gravel, and other calcareous matters; /'gypsum; g common salt, Baron van Haake's ma- nure; h soot; i alkaline substances; k peat ashes; 38 Introduction. I coal ashes ; m wood ashes, and those of ferns, &c. ; n denshiring or burnbeating; o soap-suds; p soap-ma- ker's refuse, lime; q earthy composts; r water, irriga- tion ; s electrical effluvia, and various elastic gases, which have of late come to be considered as forward- ing vegetation under certain circumstances. The effects of each of these substances, when ap- plied to soils, require to be considered under the fol- lowing points of view, viz. ; a as tending to alter the texture of the soil; b as tending to endow it with a de- gree of fertility that it did not formerly pofsefs; which should be considered again, as being either of a tem- porary or of a permanent nature, marking the propor- tions in each case ; cas tending to encourage the growth of one plant or plants in preference to others; d as producing a permanent alteration in the nature of the soil, even where it does not affect its fertility at the time, but as rendering it capable of producing cer- tain plants for ever afterwards, which, without that addition, it never could have done ; e the most be- neficial mode of applying them to the soil, for each particular crop, and under every diversity of circum- stances, as being combined with one or more of these different kinds of manures; comparing, in all cases, the proportional effects of any two or more of these substances, when applied to the soil at the same time, or separately; and whether the effect of this combined application be augmented or diminished by having the substances previously blended together, or the reverse; the proportions of each that are most beneficial, in all cases where mixtion proves beneficial, and the mode in which that mixtion ought to be ef- Agriculture. 39 fectcd. Hence every practice respecting the manage- ment of dunghills, and of composts and other com- pounded manures, will come to undergo a strict exa- mination and careful revisal. FIFTH. Obstructions to the operations of agriculture, arising from 1. Uselefs objects that require to be removed, viz. a stones; I trees and stubs; c furze and other bushes. 2. Water, as an impediment to agriculture, under the form of, a oozing springs ; I rain water retained in a stiff soil; c low lands, subject to inundations from rivers at improper times; d low lands, as liable to be overflowed by the sea at particular times. 3. Artificial obstructions to agriculture, such as, a ridges of a too great height and breadth, or that lie in an irregular or improper direction ; I heaps of stones that have been gathered from the field and piled up in improper places ; c fences that have been improperly made, and require to be cleared away. In the course of our survey many cases of this sort will occur, and an opportunity will be given when stating the practices that have been adopted for re- moving these obstructions, and to suggest such farther improvements as shall appear to be wanting. SIXTH. Operations BY ART, upon the soil, to prepare it for carrying corn crops. These may be effected 1. By plowing, in regard to which it will be pro- per to remark in what manner this operation should be managed to produce the best effect under different 40 Introduction. circumstances of soil and climate ; the effects of deep and shallow plowing, and the cases in which the one or the other will prove most beneficial. 2. By harrowing. 3. Rolling, in regard to both which will be given room for similar remarks. 4. Hoeing, considering, a the horse hoe; b the hand hoe; c the breast hoc, an implement not yet in- troduced into general practice; d the foot hoe, a most useful implement, that has been hitherto confined, in a great measure, to the highlands of Scotland. Opportunities will soon occur to give occasion to point out the cases in which the one or the other of these modes of hoeing could be most beneficially employed. 5. Trenching, or loosening the earth to two spit depth or more, and turning it over. The effects of this operation we shall also soon have occasion to ob- serve, and to.point out the cases in which it will prove useful, and those also where it would prove hurtful, and to describe the most economical way of perform- ing this important operation. 6. Digging with the spade, in place of plowing; a comparison will be made of the effects of the spade and plough culture, in regard to expence in different situations, and their effects in meliorating the soil. SEVENTH. Operations of NATURE for meliorating the soil. 1 . Influence of the atmosphere, in regard to which are to be considered the effects of, a heat ; I cold ; c frost; d snow ; e rain ; y dew ; g drought; h wind; i electrical effluvia; k the operation of elastic gases., and other chemical combinations. Agriculture. 4 1 2. Operations of animals; viz. a worms; I moles; c beetles; d grubs; e ants; f birds; g rabbits; h mice, 8cc. 3. Vegetating bodies, a by the operation of their roots while yet alive; b by attracting moisture from the atmosphere; c by shading the surface of the ground during the summer season; d by their decay and final difsolution. The whole of this section belongs properly to the head of natural physics, and will, of course, come to be considered under that head in some of the succeeding numbers of this work. EIGHTH. Operations calculated for the extirpation of weeds. This department must be considered as properly agricultural, and will naturally be discufsed, as occa- sion shall call for, during the course of our agricultural survey. These operations may be conducted either so as to be calculated for the extirpation of weeds in general, without having a view to any particular clafs of weeds ; or, as being calculated, in an especial manner, for the extirpation of some particular clafs of weeds, such as 1. Weeds that spread by the root, and are chiefly propagated in that way, viz. docks, perennial; I dan- delion, this also spreads greatly by seeds; c hemlock, this also; d coltsfoot; e crowfoot; f perennial con- volvolus; g wild liquorice ; h perennial lychnis; i couch grafs; k lion's tongue; / horse tail [e.quisetum~\ m net- tles, &c. 2. Shrubs and perennial weeds that increase chiefly by seeds. Of this description the following are those 4-2 Introduction. that chiefly abound in this country, viz. a furze, gorse, or whins; k broom ; c heath; d brambles; e briars; /"docks; g dandelion ; h hemlock; i wild carrot; k nar- row leaved sorrel, &c. 3. Biennial plants. The most common of these are, a ragwort; Prattle; c narrow leaved dock; d bi- ennial thistle; e hemlock, &c. 4. Annual weeds that are propagated by seeds only, viz. a wild oat; I charlock; c corn poppy; d spurry; e chickweed; /annual solanum; g annual ragwort; h annual thistles, See. 5. Aquatic plants; viz. a rushes; b flags; creeds, &c. 6. Mofs, as affecting pastures; lichens and other plants of the cryptogamia clafs, as affecting trees and perennial plants, misletoe, and other parasitical plants, &c. NINTH. Operations calculated to guard against trespasses. These may be considered under the separate heads of I. Inclosures, in respect to which the following particulars will require to be specially adverted to, viz. 1. The circumstances in which these become necefsary or hurtful, when the expense of making and keeping in repair the fences, and the waste of ground they oc- casion, is contrasted with the benefits that these pro- cure to the owner, a. The form and position of these in closures, so as best to promote the economy, and to augment the produce of a farm. 3. The dimensions of inclosures, a as proportioned to the size of the farm; I to the site and nature of the ground ; c as having a reference to the nature of the produce intended to be reared; d to that of the animals to be fed by it; Agriculture. 43 and e to the mode of consuming the produce. On this subject innumerable occasions will occur in the course of our survey to illustrate by examples the. im- portance of these articles, which have been heretofore too much overlooked. 2. Fences. These may all be arranged under one or other of the following clafses, viz. a stone walls; b earthen walls; c hedges of different kinds; d ditches employed as fences ; e wooden rails. Each of these kinds will be found to be attended with peculiar con- veniences and inconveniences, which will render it proper, on some occasions, to adopt one in preference to any of the others. Opportunities will frequently occur of pointing out the circumstances that tend to render, one or other of these modes of fencing eligible on particular occasions, and of explaining the best mode of rearing and of perfecting each kind. 3. Farther particulars nccefsary to be adverted to in making inclosures; viz. 1. of providing water for cattle; a by opening up springs where they can be found within the inclosures; or I by conducting artificial rills into it where springs are wanting; c by forming artificial ponds capable of retaining water, and adopt- ing measures for having these filled and cleaned at the proper seasons. 2. Providing gates and gate posts of a cheap, durable, and convenient kind. TENTH. Of implements employed i;i Agriculture. These implements may be arranged under the fol- lowing heads, on most of which shall be added a few words here to direct the attention of the beginning improver, particularly towards this important, and 44 Introduction. to him generally expensive department of rural eco- nomy. 1 . Ploughs. The most useful of these will be de- scribed as they severally fall under view, and illustrated, where necefsary, by accurate engravings; the peculiar excellencies and defects of each kind shall be pointed out, the purposes which they are individually best adapted to answer will be distinctly explained, and hints given for correcting their defects, and rendering them still more perfect. 2. Harrows, drags, &c. The uses of these im- plements will be explained as they respectively fall under review, and of the kinds hitherto invented, those will be particularly described that are the best calculated for every different purpose that can be re- quired. 3. Rollers will be noticed when cases occur in which they can be employed with good effect, and the kind of roller described that would be the best adapted for that particular purpose; nor shall the circumstances in which rolling would become hurtful be pafsed over without particular notice. 4. Waggons, carts, and other wheel machines will necefsarily become frequent objects of consideration, and the advantages and disadvantages of the different varieties of this important implement for the many purposes in which it becomes necefsary, will obtain a minute and particular investigation, with a view to ascertain, in every special case, which of the kinds may be adopted with the strictest regard to economy and dispatch. 5. Sledges, sliders, earth-planes, and other imple- Agriculture. 45 inents of this sort, will undergo a like occasional in- vestigation and special description, whenever it appears that any uncommon sort might be advantageously adopted. 6. Drill machines will, in all cases, obtain the de- gree of attention that their respective merits shall seem to entitle them to, as the cases in which they can be advantageously employed shall pafs under review. 7. Harness is an article both of expense and utility. If the mode of best applying the power of different animals, as well as the materials of which the harnefs consists, be taken into the account, it will be made to appear that it is of more importance than improvers seem to be aware of, that economy in this article, where it does not interfere with fitnefs, should be spe- cially adverted to. 8. Crows, pickaxes, and quarrying tools ought also to obtain a due degree of attention. The same may be said of 9. Spades, shovels, &c. as applied to particular pur- pose's ; as also 10. Hoes, scarificators, &c. Cases will occur in which these implements may be employed with ad- vantage, when the particular form of the implement that is best adapted for that purpose will, of course, claim a special description. 11. Hedge-bills, scissors, saivs, chissels, pruning- knives, and other tools for drefsing trees and hedges; as also 12. Rakes, forks, scythes, and other implements for hay-making, will become articles of occasional investi- gation. 46 Introduction. 1 3. The threshing machine, being a modern invention of inestimable benefit to the practical farmer, will re- quire, and shall obtain, a very particular degree of at- tention, and shall be so described that its principles may be clearly understood by any mechanic; the several improvements that experience shall suggest, will be particularly noted as they shall occur, and the circumstances specially adverted to in which these shall be particularly advisable, or the reverse. 14. The ivinnou'ing machine will obtain a similar decree of attention, as also 15. The weighing machine, which, though of great utility where a correct practice in agriculture is aimed at, hath not yet come into general use, because the simplest forms, and the most commodious apparatuses of this sort, are not as yet very generally known. Ifj. Weights and measures. These are so different in different parts of the country, as to prove a source of great embarrafsment to every candid inquirer, and therefore will require to be adverted to with the most special and marked attention by every one who attends to agricultural affairs. 17. Wlieel-l) arrows, hand-barrows, and trucks, as they are implements of general use, and admit of a great diversity of construction, more or less commo- dious for particular circumstances, deserve to be no- ticed, and their respective advantages pointed out. Nor ought 18. Various other lesser utensils, peculiarly calcu- lated to facilitate particular operations, to be suffered to c>cape notice wherever their utility becomes ap- parent. Agriculture. A"l On the whole, economy in regard to this article of expenditure cannot be too often recommended to young improvers, because it is a secret drain that very often leads to ruin under the specious disguise of diminish- ing expense. Many are the natural propensities of the human mind which lead to this. A taste for ele- gance, a wish to have every operation performed in the most perfect manner pofsible, are propensities that none will call unnatural, and few condemn ; but these propensities, when incautiously indulged, are, in this way, generally productive of an effect di- rectly the reverse of what was intended. Nothing that is awkward can be elegant; but every thing that is incongruous, whether it respects the purpose to which it is applied, or the objects with which it is necessarily connected, is incongruous ; and of all the irregularities that can take place in rural affairs, no one is productive of such a marked incongruity as finery in one article, where circumstances are such as to prevent that habi- tual neatness in every department, while a perfect facility with regard to expenditure runs not through the whole : nor can any implement, however well it may be adapted, when physically considered, to perform certain operations, be made to execute them properly, unless the person who is to use such implement hatli obtained that facility in the use of it which a continued practice with it can alone insure. But an implement that is only calculated to perform one operation, ar.J which operation, but rarely occurs, can never become so familiar to the operator as to be handled with adroitness. The operations thus performed are there- fore generally inaccurate, inelegant, and expensive;. 48 Introduction and thus a great diversity of implements proves, in ge- neral, a source of vexation and disappointment, rather than of satisfaction, to the undertaker. ELEVENTH. General disquisitions concerning vegetables. This division belongs properly to the head of gene- ral physics ; but it is of much importance to be ad- verted to by every farmer. 1. Considerations respecting seminal varieties. There are classes of plants that propagate their kind with lit- tle variation : accidental variations of this class may be often preserved : great benefits may be derived from this kind of selection. Other classes of plants, in the language of the florist, sport much, or vary consi- derably in every individual produced from seeds : va- rieties thus obtained may, in many cases, be perpe- tuated : great benefits may be derived from a due attention to this particular. Other classes of plants may be varied by crossing breeds, and producing a mixed race, similar to mongrel breeds of animals. This subject hath not yet been sufficiently adverted to. Precautions ought to be observed by the cultivator re- specting these particulars. 2. Inquiries concerning the received doctrine of the benefits that may be derived from a change of seeds. Facts respecting this are not yet sufficiently ascertained in regard to a great many particulars. 3. Circumstances that tend to affect or impair the vegetative quality of different seeds, and the manner of guarding against these. This is a maiden subject, having scarcely hitherto been subjected to any inves- tigation. Agriculture. 49 4. Concerning the length of time that seeds retain their vegetating quality. In this respect the diversities are very great: some kinds, it is known, may be kept for centuries without losing, in the smallest de- gree, their power of vegetating, while others cannot be made to grow at all if kept beyond one season. Some kinds lose their vegetative faculty all at once, if kept beyond a certain period; others lose it but in part, a certain proportion only of the seeds becoming dead af- ter a given time. Some seeds cannot be made to grow at all till one year at least has elapsed after they had attained maturity; others, which would lie a whole year in the ground if sown in the spring after ripen- ing, and afterwards germinate, will germinate a year sooner if they are put into the ground immediately after they are ripe. Some seeds require to be kept perfectly dry to preserve their vegetative powers; others will bear a moderate degree of dampnefs. The diver- sities in this respect are very great; and on the know- ledge of these diversities depends our power of bringing seeds in safety from a distance, and a vast diversity of economical arrangements, with which it is of great importance to every cultivator to be acquainted. 5. On the preservation of roots and of live plants when brought from a distance. A great diversity is found to subsist in regard to the tenaciousnefs of life in different plants, and the means that tend to preserve or to extinguish it in different cases, which can only be learned by a careful and accurate discrimination of the peculiarities of different plants. 6. Of insects lodged in seeds. These sometimes destroy the vegetative power only, but more generally VOL. I. D 50 Introduction. consume the farinaceous part also of such seeds as are eaten by man; sometimes they do not spread farther than the individual seed they had attacked, in other cases they become like a leaven communicating that infection to all seeds of that sort that come near them; in which case it becomes a malady that ought to be guarded against like the pestilence with the most cautious circumspection, by adopting every means that can be devised to prevent its introduction. The effectually preventing or curing of this disease de- pends upon our accurate knowledge of the peculiar habits and qualities of insects, a race of beings which some persons affect to despise, but whose attacks upon man are infinitely more difficult to be parried than those of the largest and most ferocious animals. 7. Of the means of freeing seeds from hurtful im- purities. Devices for this purpose must be various, mechanical, chemical, or physical, according to the nature of the impurity. Unlefs in a very few in- stances, chiefly referable to the first head, this subject hath scarcely been as yet adverted to. 8. Of the effect of sowing lean or plump seeds on the strength of the grain and weight of the crop. Neither hath this subject been as yet considered, and the effect is often very different from what is generally supposed. There are particular circumstances in which lean seeds have been known to produce a much greater crop than plump seeds of the same sort, and vice versa. The subject demands a much fuller investigation than it hath yet obtained. Q. Considerations on the various modes that may be adopted by the farmer for propagating plants inde- Agriculture. 5 1 pendent of seeds, and the utility that may be derived from th,em in certain cases. Examples : potatoes, yams, sweet potatoes, Jerusalem artichoke, the sugar- cane, and a variety of other plants. The variations which take place under this head are astonishingly great, and the benefits that result from some of those modes of rearing plants are of the utmost importance to society, whether the quantity of produce be con- sidered, its quality in many cases, or the saving that it produces as an article of economy. These particulars will be necefsarily discufsed in the course of our work. 10. On the effects of cutting the stems of plants while growing. This is another department of rural economy that hath scarcely been adverted to. We shall, in the course of our progrefs, have occasion to shew that, in regard to some plants, the produce may, by this means, be greatly diminished; in regard to others, it may be very much augmented j while in re- spect to a third soit it will produce scarcely any varia- tion. 1 1 . On the effect of climate in altering the nature of vegetables. Are these alterations real or imaginary? If the first, are the changes produced at once, or only by a slow gradation ? Facts respecting these particu- lars are much wanted. 12. On the effects of soil in altering the nature of vegetables. 13. On the effects of culture in altering the nature of vegetables. Are these effects, in any case, perma- nent ? 14. Of the effects of a greater or lefs degree of D 2 52 Introduction. weight of the atmosphere in altering the nature of plants. Alpine plants referable to this head. 15. Of the effects of prefsure on the soil in pro- moting or retarding the growth of particular plants. 16. Of the effect of particular manures in rendering certain soils capable of bearing particular plants, and bringing them to perfection. 1 7. Of the sleep of plants. Can an attention to this peculiarity be of any practical use respecting any of the plants usually reared in this country? 18. Of the effect of continued light and heat on the growth of particular plants, when compared with those cases in which the light and heat are regularly inter- rupted at certain periods. This subject will naturally come under discufsion, when we shall have occasion to specify the difference between tropical and polar cli- mates. 19. Of plants that are confined to particular regions or climates. 20. Of plants that grow and prosper in every region of the globe. 2 1 . Tender plants that can be brought to perfection in cold climates, and hardy plants that cannot be brought to perfection in warm regions. 22. Of the effects of continued heat and moisture on plants. 23. Ditto of continued heat and drought. 24. Ditto of cold and moisture. 25. Ditto of cold and drought. These are questions in physics that have never hi- therto obtained so much attention as to admit of being solved in a satisfactory manner. Many particulars, Agriculture. 53 however, respecting these questions, will naturally fall to be developed under the physical department of our work. It is only by attending to the peculiarities of individual vegetables, in regard to all these circum- stances, that we can hope succefsfully to extend the limits of the vegetable flora of any country. The po- tatoe is a singular example of the benefits that may be derived from an attention to particulars of this sort. Many other annual plants that are natives of warm regions may, no doubt, be ripened to perfection in high latitudes; but it is believed that no one among these hath as yet been discovered that could prove of Dearly as much utility as the potatoe. TWELFTH. General disquisitions concerning animals. 1. Of the nature of varieties, or, what is commonly called breeds of domestic animals. Are these perma- nent, or merely accidental ? Are they all derived from one original? or, are there distinct varieties, which cannot be altered but by an intermixture with other breeds ? This is a subject on which philosophers have written very rashly, without attending sufficiently to facts that might have been within their reach j the received opinions on this subject are, therefore, vague and indeterminate, and require much to be particularly examined ; this belongs properly to the department of natural- history, though it is of very great importance to the farmer to be rightly understood. 2. On accidental varieties of animals, discriminated by certain minute qualities, and the means of perpetu- ating these. This is a subject that has scarcely as yet attracted the attention of either philosophers or far- 54 Introduction. mers, though, to the last, it is of consequence that it should be particularly adverted to. 3. On the effects of climate in altering the nature of domestic animals. Are the changes produced by these means permanent or temporary? Does it affect the individual only, or the breed? Many erroneous notions are afloat concerning this and the following article that require to be corrected. See Efsays relating to agri- culture and rural affairs, Vol. II. 4. Of the effects of food, either as to quantity or quality, in altering the nature of animals. 5. Of the effects of human culture and domestica- tion on animals. 6. Of hybrid animals ; that is, animals of the mule kind, that are procreated between parents of distinct species, and which are not capable of continuing their kind. It is necefsary to inquire into the difference that actually takes place between this clafs of animals and their parent race in regard to strength, hardinefs, easy keeping, and several other particulars. If the com- monly received opinions on this subject be well founded, many benefits might accrue to the public by a more particular attention to creatures of this clafs. 7. Inquiries into the circumstances that ought to be adverted to in our attempts to introduce animals into one country from another; and the benefits that might be derived from enlarging, in any country, its domes- tic fauna. The physical obstructions to the intro- ducing domestic animals from one part of the world into another, will be found to be much fewer than those that oppose the cultivation of vegetables; but the economical obstructions to bringing them, greater; Agriculture. '55 the principal desideratum, however, in this case, is to be able to acquire a knowledge of the exact compara- tive value of them in their respective countries, com- pared with our own. The benefits that might be de- rived from a proper knowledge of this science are beyond all calculation. It is, for example, perfectly ascertained, that there are several breeds of sheep as entirely destitute of wool as our horses are; had this been the only breed of sheep in Britain, who will pre- tend to calculate the amount of the benefit we should have received by introducing the woolled sheep? and who can ascertain that this may not actually have been the case? THIRTEENTH. Of the culture of vegetables in general. The objects which come under this head have, in some degree, been attended to by farmers in all ages and countries; but have not been so particularly ad- verted to, as not to render many elucidations concern- ing it still necefsary. It may be arranged as under. I. On the choice of seeds. Many circumstances require to be adverted to under this head, and many popular notions respecting it will come to be investi- gated, as the subject falls under notice. II. On the preparation of seeds. Under this head will be considered the nature of steeps of all sorts, whether for the purpose of preventing particular dis- eases, for promoting the germination of the seeds, for augmenting the luxuriance of the crop, or for al- tering the nature of the produce. III. Sowing. Under which head will fall to be con- sidered, l . The state of the soil when best fitted to re- 56 Introduction. ceive the seeds. 2. The state of the moon, an inves- tigation into the ancient and still, in some degree, popular doctrine of that influence in promoting or re- tarding the germination of certain seeds. 3. Depth at which different seeds should be planted, so as best to promote their vegetation and future vigour. 4. On the best manner of covering particular seeds, so as best to insure succefs. 5. Sowing broad cast, and drill sowing compared, and the cases in which the one or the other is preferable ascertained. IV. On the cultivation of corn crops while growing. Under which head will be considered, 1. Hoeing, whether a by the hand-hoe; I by the horse-hoe; c by the breast-hoe; or d by the foot- hoe. The cases in which the one or the other of these modes are most eligible will be pointed out, and the advantages or disadvantages in each explained. 2. Weeding by hand. 3. Harrowing while the crop is above the ground. 4. Rolling. 5. Transplanting. 6. Water- ing. V. Reaping. 1. With the scythe. 2. With the sickle. 3. Plucking up by the roots. VI. Hay-making. In which will be to be consi- dered the most eligible modes of conducting this pro- cefs for different kinds of hay, and under different cir- cumstances, a meadow hay; I clover and rye-grafsj c sainfoin; d lucern. VII. In-gathering the crop; and, l.corn. Necefsary care of this crop, and mode of managing it; a while in the field; I while carrying home; c while put up to preserve for use, whether in ricks or in the barn. 2. Gathering leaves; a woad; I tobacco. 3. Flowers; .Agriculture. 57 # camomile; I saffron; c violets; d lavender, &c. 4. Plants entire; a flax; I hemp; c weld. 5. Parti- cular parts of plants; a teasils; I hops; c seeds. 6. Fruits. VIII. Threshing, winnowing, and preparing grain for market, &c. . FOURTEENTH. The culture of particular crops. These may be arranged under the following heads. I. Grainy viz. 1. wheat; 2. rye; 3. spelt-corn j 4. barley; 5. oats; 6. maize, or Indian corn. II. Legumina; viz. 1. pease; 2. beans; 3. tares, vetches, chiches; 4. buck-wheat; 5. French, or kid- ney beans. III. Esculent plants and roots; viz. 1. turnips, ruta baga; 2. cabbages, turnip-rooted ditto; 3. green beet, beetrave, or red beet, root of scarcity; 4. car- rots; 5. parsnips; 6. potatoes; 7. solanum tuberosa, Jerusalem artichoke. IV. Miscellaneous useful plants; viz. 1. the cole- seed plant; 2. flax; 3. hemp, Chinese hemp; 4. mus- tard; 5. tobacco; 6. canary seed; 7- carvy; 8. woad, Q. weld; 10 madder; 11. teazil; 12. liquorice 3 13. hops; 14. willows. Under each of these heads ought to be considered the particular soil, culture, and manures that best suit each crop; the varieties of each kind, where any are known, with the distinguishing peculiarities of each of these circumstances that ought to determine the choice of the farmer to cultivate any one sort in pre- ference to the others in general, or on particular oc- casions; the particular uses and mode of disposing of 58 Introduction. .each in peculiar circumstances; when it will be more proper to sell any of these crops, or to consume them upon the premises; if the last, the mode in which each particular crop can be so applied as to become the most beneficial to the farmer ; and in general to advert to the circumstances that ought to determine the farmer to cultivate or neglect any particular article in his peculiar situation, especially those articles that are uncommon, and in lefs general demand. V. Artificial grasses, or plants reared as food for domestic animals', such as 1. broad clover; 2. peren- nial red clover, or cow grafs; 3. white, or Dutch clover; 4. yellow clover, or trefoil; 5. milkwort; C. yellow vetchling; 7. blue tare; 8. bush vetch; 9. mil- lefolium, or yarrow; 10. plantain, or rib-grafs; 11. grafs-leaved plantain; 12. burnet; 13. lucern; 14. sainfoin; 15. rye-grafs; 16. fescue grafs; 17. hay seeds for meadows; 18. the new American grafs; 19. spurrey; 20. chycorium intybus; 21. Swedish grafs, or avena elatior, without knobbed roots, &c. VI. Shrubs when reared as food for cattle', viz. 1 . furze, gors, or whins ; 2. Scotch pine ; 3. vine twigs leaves, &c. this is a more common food for cattle in the south of Europe than in Britain; 4. elder leaves, 8cc. FIFTEENTH. Orchards and fruit trees. In regard to these, researches require to be made re- specting those situations that are peculiarly favourable for rearing fruit trees, or the reverse; the soils that are best adapted to the bringing any particular kind of fruit trees to the highest degree of perfection. In- Agriculture. 59 quiries should also be made into the advantages that may be expected to result from the rearing of them, in very favourable situations. The kinds of fruit that may be cultivated in this country are; a apples; b pears; c cherries; d plums, apricots, peaches, nec- tarines, almonds; e walnuts; f hazel-nuts, filberts; g vines; A figs; i small fruits, gooseberries, currants, raspberries. In the disquisitions concerning these will require to be adverted to, the peculiar qualities and distinguishing characteristics of the best varieties of each kind of fruit; the most beneficial mode of rearing, cultivating, pruning, and managing each kind of tree, so as to render it productive as to quantity,, and rich as to the flavour and qualities of each sort. Inquiries also will naturally occur respecting the best mode of disposing of the produce, whether that be to be sold immediately after gathering, or after be- ing kept till a particular season ; whether they are to be disposed of in their native state, or after being ma- nufactured into some kind of liquor : hence the mode of gathering and preserving each kind will come under review; the mode of making cider, perry, artificial wines, vinegar, and other kinds of liquors, from fruits, will come also to be successively developed. SIXTEENTH. Timber trees considered as a crop by the farmer. Under this head will be to be considered, I. The circumstances in which trees may be reared as a crop with profit to be felled; 1. as a copse, in regard to which directions will occur as to the ma- nagement of it for particular kinds of trees, and parti- cular purposes; 2. as to be thinned so as to afford an 60 Introduction. annual profit by cutting, to make room for the others to advance. This applies only to coniferous trees, especially the larch-tree. See Efsays relating to Agri- culture and rural Affairs, vol. iii. 3. as a crop to be cut out at once entirely without regard to any future produce of the same sort. II. Considerations respecting the soil, situation, and circumstances in which this kind of crop can be ad- vantageously reared, when viewed; 1. as affording profit from the sale of the produce; 2. as a mean of meliorating the soil for the production of future crops. Under this head will naturally occur observations on the best means of rearing, planting, and training dif- ferent kinds of timber trees. III. Of the uses to be made of the wood in parti- cular situations; 1. for implements of husbandry ; 2. machinery of different sorts; 3. railing, including hurdles; 4. poles, and various other lefser miscella- neous articles; 5. fire-wood. IV. Of particular productions that may be drawn from certain trees, viz. I. turpentine, directions for preparing it; 2. rosin, trees that best afford it; ope- rations; 3. Burgundy pitch; 4. tar, common pitch, lamp-black; 5. wine from the birch, maple, 8cc. sugar; 6. tan bark, dye stuffs, &c. SEVENTEENTH. On the different kinds of live stock that may le occa- sionally kept by the farmer, as situation and cir- cumstances may suit. This is an important article to the farmer, and will require many elucidations before it can be fully un- derstood. Of late somewhat more attention has been Agriculture. 61 bestowed upon this department of rural economics than formerly ; and it is perhaps better understood in Britain than any where else ; but still much remains to be done. Many new ideas are afloat on this sub- ject, which will give rise to discussions, in the course of our survey, and bring forward facts respecting it, that might have otherwise remained unknown. The animals that might suit our climate are of the follow- ing kinds, viz. I. Horses. The different breeds of this noble ani- mal, and of the others that follow, have never yet been fully described, and of course are, in a great measure, unknown. As many erroneous notions pre- vail respecting the breeds of animals, which it much imports the public to have corrected, it is judged necefsary to begin our agricultural career with a dis- sertation on this subject ; because it will tend in the first place to direct the attention of the reader to the most proper objects of research, and because, in the second place, opportunities will occur, in the course of our survey, to state many facts from which lucid conclusions may be drawn after the subject has been developed, which would not otherwise have appeared of much importance. We shall then also have occa- sion to point out the circumstances that ought to be adverted to by those who mean to rear this fine ani- mal, as adapted to the following purposes : 1 . As a beast of draught, whether these respect, a the plough, and other operations of the farmer j I the team for the road, whether for heavy waggons, for lighter carriages, or for bearing burdens. 69 Introduction. 2. For the road, as a riding horse, or as a trooper or charger. 3. For the chaise or other carriages, for transporting persons with ease and expedition from place to place. 4. For the course. They will also have occasion to be viewed as being kept by the farmer, 5. Merely for performing the operations on bis farm, and as being an article of expence to him in the first instance, and as only contributing towards his emolument in an indirect and circuitous man- ner; or 6. As intended to return a direct profit, which may be done either a by breeding, or I by being kept for a certain time for the purpose of being resold. Rules will be specified for feeding and managing them for each of these purposes. II. Asses. The diminutive breed of this animal, which accident has placed in this country, has made it be disregarded by us much more than is justly due to the animal, when its real nature and qualities are fairly appreciated. Its uses, as a domestic animal, under different points of view, will come to be fairly discufsed. III. The mule. Of the valuable qualities of this animal we are only acquainted in this country by re- ports from persons who have travelled abroad, whose accounts appear to us, in some measure, fabulous. This subject will obtain all the attention that its im- portance deserves. IV. Cattle. The bos-tribe, or bull and cow. The Agriculture. 61 attention of the public has of late been strongly di- rected towards an investigation of the comparative va- lue of the most distinguished breeds of cattle in this island; the views of improvers in this line have been perhaps confined as yet to a more limited walk than the subject required; but some progress has been made. The great point wanted is to bring together a sufficient number of well authenticated facts respect- ing each breed, and it is to be hoped that many such will be collected in the course of our survey. The animal ought to be considered under the following points of view, viz. 1 . As a beast of draught. His excellencies and de- fects under this point of view, when considered in ge- neral, will naturally be often adverted to; and the qualities of different breeds in that respect compared. The same may be said of him when considered, 2. As a beast capable of being fattened and brought to the shambles for profit; 3. Of the female as an animal capable of yielding milk. The qualities of each breed being ascertained as well as it can be done in respect to these particulars, it will be proper to advert to the most proper method of treating and management of them when kept for, a working beasts; b as a breeding stock, and of course, the rearing and fattening of calves ; c as a growing stock; d as a fattening stock; e as a stock yielding milk. Hence will come to be considered the general and particular management of the dairy, when in- tended a for the making of butter; b for the making of cheese; c for both these purposes. Under this 64 Introduction. head will be reviewed the most proper and eco- nomical mode of disposing of or consuming dairy wash. V. Sheep. The varieties of this useful creature are yet greater, and perhaps lefs perfectly understood than those of the former, the discriminating of which will give rise to many important remarks in the course of our survey. Its distinguishable peculiarities will be considered, 1. As having reference to the carcase, considered, a in respect to size or magnitude; I its aptitude to fatten at a particular period of its age, or to lay the fat on particular parts of its body; c its proportion of tallow. 2. Its fleece : a whether it carries any wool or not; if it does, I the quality of that wool, whether it is coarse or fine, short or long, hairy or pure, &c. ; c the quantity of wool in proportion to the size of the carcase. 3. Its hardiness with respect to a food; b clima- ture ; c travel, or the aptitude to bear fatigue. The sheep will then be considered in regard to its general management, when it will be reviewed, 1. As a breeding stock for the purpose of rearing lambs, which may be intended, a as a stock to be kept or sold as keeping lamb ; or b to be fatted in the common way upon pasture and sold to the butcher; or c to be fatted early as house lamb. The mode of management that is best adapted for each of these pur- poses will require to be particularly adverted to, 2. As a young holding stock; 3. As a feeding stock; Agriculture. 65 4. As a stock chiefly for producing wool. Under this head will come to be investigated the different mea- sures that have been adopted, or may be introduced into practice, for the melioration of wool. VI. The goat. Its varieties will be considered, 1 . As to the carcase ; 2. As to the fleecej a long-haired goats; I short smooth-haired ditto; c the Angora goat, with silky hair; d those that carry fine wool; 3. As to the milk afforded by this creature. The large Portugal goat; uses to be made of its milk. VII. The hog. Its various breeds considered, and the qualities they respectively pofsefs for yielding, 1 . Young pig. 2. Porkers. 3. Bacon. General and particular management, and kinds of food best adapted for each of these purposes. VIII. Deer. The varieties of this animal that can be kept in a domestic state in this country, and the mode of managing them may claim a small share of attention; though they can so seldom be reared with profit by the farmer, that they will be. accounted of a subordinate nature to those already specified. IX. The rabbit. Varieties to be considered when reared; 1. for the sake of the carcase only; 2. for the fur they produce; silver-haired rabbit; Angora rab- bit; peculiarities of these breeds; general and parti- cular management, whether fed in the house, or in the fields; considerations on the profits that may be made of this kind of stock. Land that may be converted into a rabbit warren with profit, and the proper mode of managing it. X. Other quadrupeds that might probably be in- VOL. I. E 66 Introduction. troduced into this country with profit, which have never yet come within the power of the British farmer. Many creatures, that promise to be of much use in rural economy, are known to exist in different parts of the \vorld; but their qualities are not as yet suffi- ciently known, to enable the British farmer to judge how far he might be benefited by rearing them. Op- portunities will probably occur in the course of our survey, to bring forward some elucidations concerning this subject. XI. Poultry. Under this head may be included, 1. turkeys; 2. geese; 3. guinea fowl, or pintada; 4. pea fowl; 5. ducks; 6. the common dunghill fowl. This kind of stock, though of inferior account to many others in the eyes of the farmer, is yet an object of considerable importance in rural affairs, and therefore will demand a due share of attention from us. XII. Pigeons. Management of a pigeon house; profits and expense of this kind of bird; circumstances in which it may prove eligible to keep them; value and uses of the dung. XIII. Bees. Circumstances of climate, &c. fa- vourable or unfavourable for rearing this kind of stock; food properest for them, whether intended to produce a very fine honey, or I a great quantity of it. Gene- ral and particular management of this insect; a in summer; I in winter; c in the spring. Profits that may be derived from them, and circumstances of a family, which admit of their being duly attended to. XIV. Fish ponds. The way of making and stock- ing these ; general management and profits. XV. Decoys for wild fowl. Circumstances in which these may become incidentally an object of the far- Agriculture. 67 mer's attention ; general account of the management of these. EIGHTEENTH. Economical considerations respecting live stock. 1. Respecting the rearing and bringing forward young animals that are intended to be kept. 2. Feeding. Considerations that tend to accelerate or retard the fattening of animals. Heat and cold; wetnefs and drynefs; their influ- ence. I Condiments; considerations concerning their ef- fects. c Alternation of different kinds of food; its influence. d Laxative, or constipated habits; their effects in accelerating, or retarding their fattening. e Provocatives to appetite, and forcing animals to eat beyond their natural powers; their effects. f Stimulants and carminatives. g Oily, farinaceous, mucilaginous, saccharine sub- stances, and fermented matters, severally considered as food for domestic animals; their effects in fattening. h Substances that tend particularly to augment the quantity of tallow, or to promote the growth of any one part of the body more than others. i Perspiration, washing, combing, rest, quiet, dark- nefs, and solitude; castration, spaving, pregnancy, dis- ease, considered in regard to their effects on fattening animals. NINETEENTH. On the general management of' an arable farm. I. Concerning the alternations of crops; great be- nefits result from a judicious management in this E 2 68 Introduction. respect; an inquiry into the principles upon which general rules may be established in regard to this circumstance; particular directions in this respect, as applicable to a diversity of soils and circumstances. II. Concerning the distribution of crops upon a farm, having a respect to the finding full employment at all times to the servants and beasts of labour, with- out occasioning an unnecefsary hurry at any particular season. These economical considerations are of greater importance to the practical farmer, than many persons who have not had a considerable degree of experience seem to be aware of. III. On the great benefits, in respect to economical arrangements, that a farmer may derive from being pofsefsed of a diversity of soils upon the same farm. This, like the former, can seldom be fairly appreciated but by those who have had the experience of it. IV. On the advantages that accrue to a farmer from having a part of a corn farm at 7 all times under one kind or the other of some of the artificial grafses. The proportion of it that ought to be appropriated to this purpose under different circumstances; the kinds Introduction. closet, where he runs a great risk of being misled by the ideal reasoning of Ingenious men, but according to the system of Boyle, who frequented the work-shops of practical mechanics, and adverted to the actual dif- ficulties they had to surmount, and the means they found it necefsary to adopt in order to overcome them, they would, like that amiable philosopher, be soon induced to say, that they acquired more real u< Ail knowledge thus in one day, than he found it pofsible in any other way to acquire in a month; nor was he under the necefsity of ever unlearning at a future period what he had thus once learned; a circumstance that was unavoidable in every other case. THIRTIETH. Agriculture considered as art object of taste and recreation to a man of fortune. Too much cannot be said in praise of this recrea- tion to men of fortune, if their own individual health and happinefs were alone to be adverted to; but, when we also consider that it is from among this clafs of men that our legislators ought, and many indeed must be selected, and when we consider that those only can make judicious laws for the promoting of any branch of in- dustry, who are well acquainted with the nature of the businefs with which they interfere, it will appear to be a matter of no small national importance, that gen- tlemen of fortune should take a pleasure in rural pur- suits. In this point of view, observations concerning agriculture, considered as an object of taste, cannot be deemed superfluous. Such are the objects, in general, that have a relation to, or are closely connected with, agricultural pursuits. Agriculture. 91 No man can be said fully to understand that subject who has not adverted to all the subjects above enume- rated; and he who is well acquainted with the greatest number of them, will have the best chance of judging rightly concerning the whole; but, fortunately for the interests of society, it is not necefsary that every prac- tical farmer should be intimately acquainted with all of them ; for to be a good practitioner requires such an intimate degree of knowledge of the minutiae of that department which he is to follow as a businefs, as never could be attained by any one in regard to the whole of them. The corn farmer may therefore be imper- fectly acquainted with the businefs of the grazier, or the dairy; and the grazier may be perfect in his de- partment who knows but little of the rearing of corn. Let each, then, bend his whole attention to that de- partment which he has chosen; he will thus be able to furnish instructions that may be relied on in that department. Our object will be to obtain as authentic information as pofcible from such individuals, to select the most important of these, and to detail them to our readers; happy if we shall be able, on most occa- sions, to discriminate with accuracy between the most beneficial practices, and those that are of lefs general importance. END OF THE INTRODUCTION. RECREATIONS NATURAL-HISTORY. INTRODUCTION. NATURAL-HISTORY is the science which treats of the objects that are found in this universe, in their na- tive state, unaltered by human operations. These objects must have attracted the attention of man at a very early period ; for we find among the works of antiquity which have come down to us, that many of them are referable to this head ; but, owing to the uncertainty which prevails respecting the identity of the objects described, the knowledge which the an- tients had acquired on this subject is now in a great measure lost to us. On the revival of letters in Europe this defect became extremely distrefsing tt> philosophical enquirers; because, instead of the in- formation they hoped to obtain from such writings, they found themselves either lost in uncertainty, or led, by plausible conjectures, into error. On these accounts, the moderns, who have particularly directed their attention to this study, have turned their minds, VOL. I. A 2 Natural-history. chiefly towards the discovery of such a clafsiflcation as would tend most effectually to identify the objects that may become the subject of discufsion ; with a view, by these means, to perpetuate, to a certainty, the knowledge of every peculiarity respecting them. As this is obviously the only sure foundation upon which attainments in this science can be established, it has, with great propriety, occupied the attention of many eminent men; and much ingenuity has been displayed, in the detail of which it will be foreign to our present purpose to engage. Let it suffice barely to remark, that the system of Linnaeus has obtained such marked approbation for many years past, and is, indeed, so well calculated, with the few corrections that expe- rience may suggest, to answer very completely the purpose required, as to supersede the necefsity of pe- culiarly adverting to it. The language of this science being thus established, so that different persons can understand each other without danger of being mis- taken, the student is now left at liberty to proceed in investigating the real qualities of natural objects, with- out embarrafsing himself about the discovery of those nice distinctions which have proved a source of so much trouble and perplexity for several ages past; and he may enter at once into the real studies of nature, which so many ingenious men, in former times, have been prevented from doing, through the mere want of such preparatory lefsons. Great, then, is the advantage we pofsefs in this department over those who have preceded usj and there can be no doubt that when we properly avail ourselves of these advantages, by engaging with ardour in the actual Introduction. 3 study of this science, instead of amusing ourselves longer in preliminary researches, our advancement in it will be rapid beyond example. From these con- siderations we shall lose no time in preparatory dis- cufsions, but applying ourselves wholly to the discovery of the efsential qualities of the different objects, will endeavour to give such an idea of them as may render them useful in life. Natural objects, for the purpose of clafsification, have been in general arranged under the three grand divisions of animal, vegetable, and mineral, each of which will admit of many lefser subdivisions, about which we mean not here to treat. One observation, however, upon a general view of the whole, as it can- not fail in time to present itself to every person who engages in this study, may here be introduced : it is, that, however easy it may seem, at the first glance, to discriminate the three clafses of objects from each other, yet every clafs of natural objects will be found to approach so nearly in the extremes to other clafses, that it is a matter of difficulty to say with precision where the one ends, and the other begins. The whole are so closely connected, like the links of a chain, that there is no pofsibility of finding a disjunction in any part. Among animated beings, bats are the connect- ing link between beasts and birds : the numerous clafs of amphibia conjoin beasts and fishes ; and lizards unite them with reptiles. The humming-bird ap- proaches the nature of insects, and the flying-fish that of birds. The polypus, the sea anemony, and the sea pen, though of animal origin, have more the habits of vegetables than of animals j while the fly - trap A2 4 Nulural-hislory. (dionaea muscipula), the sensitive plant, and some other vegetable productions, by their spontaneous movements, or extreme sensibility, seem to participate more of animal origin. Corals and corallines, from the different forms they afsume, may be more easily mistaken for mineral or vegetable than animal pro- ductions, to which clafs they are now referred by the unanimous decision of naturalists. The truffle, though a vegetable, afsumes rather the appearance of a mine- ral j and there is reason to believe that the anomalous substance called peat is actually a live vegetable, sui generis, rather than an earthy or mineral substance, as it has been often supposed. Nor is it with regard to corporeal forms only, and peculiarities of organization, that this disjointed con- nection subsists between the different objects which inhabit the globe : the same concatenation is observed to take place respecting mind, beginning with man, who forms the highest link of the chain, and descend- ing from him by an almost imperceptible diminution of mental powers, through an innumerable series of existences, till it ends at last in mere animation alone, with a seeming privation of all mental perception whatever. It is indeed true, that though, in regard to intellect, gome of the higher orders of animals appear, in certain points of view, to approximate to the lowest of the human species, yet there can be no doubt that man is much farther exalted above them all, than any one of these excels the next below it ; so that if there be any break in the chain at all, it is here that the rupture takes place. For though many of the higher orders of animals pofsefs a kind of memory, Introduction. 5 and the faculty of reasoning in a certain degree ; though " the ox knoweth his owner, and the afs his master's crib/' yet, unlefs it be in recollecting their dependence on others for food, and a few circumstances of a similar nature, tending chiefly to the preservation of existence, the intellectual powers of even the highest order of animals are extremely circumscribed. Man alone can reason from consequences to remote causes, and can from the creature trace an idea of the Creator. A sense of religion, then, is the characteristic pecu- liarity which decisively marks a separation between man and all other animals. Nor is it in regard to these higher attainments only that man is exalted above the mere animals on this globe ; for, abstracted from the natural impulse called instincts, implanted by the hand of God upon all ani- mated beings, for the preservation and continuation of their existence, and which in many instances we are apt to confound with reason, we shall find that the very highest of these approximations to reason in ani- mals, falls infinitely short of that which is perceptible even among the lowest orders of mankind. The dog is a favoured, and a very sagacious domestic animal : he feels the benign influence of the parlour fire, and enjoys it as much as any of the human species; but he never can be made sensible of the uses to which heat may be applied in changing the nature of bodies which are subjected to its power: he never can be made to conceive how a piece of coal, or a billet of wood, can augment that heat, and continue to support it; and thus he cannot spontaneously feed the fire when occa- sion shall require it; a degree of reasoning which a 6 Natural- history. child acquires almost before it can walk, and which even an idiot knows. In like manner the elephant, that most sagacious of the brute creation, delights in the sugar-cane, and gives evident indications that this is a food which he relishes in the highest degree, and when he once discovers where it can be found, will expose himself to almost any danger in order to obtain it ; but no elephant hath ever yet been able to disco- ver that if the joints of these plants be buried to a certain depth in newly turned up earth, it will there revive, and send up shoots, which in due time will afford abundance of his favourite food, if it be not destroyed before that period. This kind of reasoning, though it be the most obvious to all mankind, is far beyond the limited faculties of the brute creation; on which account they are, and ever must be, subservient to man, whenever he chooses to exert his powers for that purpose. There are men who think that the perfection of rea- soning consists in the use of a multitude of words to which they annex vague ideas, and by their help en- deavour to set aside facts that are obvious to the per- ception of every human being. Some of these men pretend to deny the existence of such a faculty as instinct, or that propensity by which animals are powerfully impelled to act in certain cases without the aid of reasoning. Is it in consequence of reasoning that the infant, nearly as soon as it is born, searches for the nipple, and spontaneously sucks in die nutri- cious fluid which nature had so aptly prepared for its subsistence? This single example will recall the idea of many other cases in which man, by the overpower* Introduction. 7 ing influence of natural instinct, is too often induced, at the time, to do what his reason condemns, as con- trary to his own welfare and interest; so that it be- comes totally unnecefsary to enlarge on a subject of such notoriety, or to strive to refute an opinion that can have no other tendency than to degrade human nature, and to derange the economy of the universe. So far is it from being true that reason and instinct are the same, that it will be found to be a pretty gene- ral rule, that instinct operates with the most unde- viating power among those animals whose reasoning faculties are of the lowest order. The chick of the common dunghil fowl no sooner breaks the shell than it understands the cluck of its mother, and instantly obeys her call with the most prompt alacrity; and in two days time it knows as perfectly when she desires it to beware, as when she invites it to participate in the repast, or come to nestle under the protecting shadow of her wings. The very day that it is hatched, if a kite appear, it discovers the most evident symptoms of ter- ror and perturbation, while other creatures of larger size are suffered to move about without occasioning any sort of alarm. The duckling, in like manner, the very first time it sees the water, runs towards it and plunges at once into the pool, not only without the aid of maternal invitation, but in spite of the utmost efforts of the hen (if it has been so hatched) to prevent it. These are instances of powerful instincts among the most stupid clafs of animals ; and though the hen is so silly as not to know a bit of stone from her own egg, yet the power of instinct within her is so strong, that in the proper season she is impelled to sit upon 8 Natural-history. these stones the whole of the period that would be necefsary for hatching her own eggs, soon after which the same uncontroulable power which made her sit, induces her to rise; and in this case she abandons her nest without the smallest symptoms of disappointment or concern. If, on the contrary, she brings forth her young brood in the usual course of incubation, she attends them with the most sedulous care, watches over their welfare at all moments, abandons the food which she herself stands in need of, till they are satis- fied, and boldly exposes her own life to the .most im- minent dangers in order to protect them. This ma- ternal propensity, like that for sitting, has also its allotted period. When that period arrives, she deserts her chickens with the most perfect unconcern; and after that time, were they exposed to the severest dis- trefs from which she could easily protect them, she will no longer lend them the smallest afsistance, than if she had never before seen them. Their pitiable cries of distrefs make no imprefsion upon her, and she actu- ally seems to know them no more. In the human race the force of instinct is far lefs powerful. An infant is the most helplefs of all crea- tures: 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 de- velopement of its reasoning faculties: but as its pro- grefs is more slow, so its ultimate attainments are pro- Introduction. 9 portionally 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 attaining ; but no period of human life can be afsigned when the mental progrefs of man is at a stand. There are, however, among mere animals, some in- dividuals which pofsefs a greater share of rational fa- culty than is common to the species to which they be- long, and who continue to make small advances from experience; in consequence of which, the power of such individuals is not entirely stationary: but this progrefs is slow at the best, and their ultimate attain- ments, as we have already seen, but inconsiderable. No one of these animals has ever advanced so far as to acquire the knowledge of any language, nor been able to form an idea of an abstract proposition, or to rea- son about distant occurrences. Among them, as there is no conversation, so there is no power of transmit- ting an idea of past events. The small degree of knowledge which the observation of a few sagacious individuals had acquired, must of course be entirely confined to the individual itself. That acquirement cannot even be communicated to those who are its constant companions, far lefs can it be transmitted to its descendants at a future period : their knowledge cannot therefore be progrefsive. Universally, the whole species of every kind, have the same powers and pro- pensities at this moment that they had at the earliest period they were known. The cat, at the time of Theophrastus, used to play with the mouse she in- tended to devour, in the same way as in the present 10 Natural-history. day ; and the spaniel no doubt licked the chastening hand of Nimrod with the same abject submifsion as it now does that of its master. It is man alone who, by comparing facts that fall under his cognizance, and reasoning upon them, has been enabled to subject all nature to his sway. Nor is it alone from the facts that fall under his own observation that he derives this kind of knowledge, but also from those which have been observed and communicated to him by others, or transmitted to him from the experience of former ages. The progrefs of the human species, therefore, taken in the aggregate, as well as that of every indi- vidual, is advancing from age to age; and the power of man, of course, gradually extending as his knowledge encrease*. The natural instincts and propensities of every animal are observed by him, and he sees that though these instincts are infinitely diversified, yet among those of the same species they are invariably the same " yesterday, to-day, and for ever." It is by this means he has been enabled to subdue the strong- est, and to bring the swiftest within the compafs of his power. By attending to these peculiarities, he has been able to effect wonderful things by means the most seemingly inadequate. It is thus he has learned to confine the wild bear of the Rufsian forest* within * The most common method of hunting the wild bear in Rufsia is as follows. When the seat of the bear has been discovered, the hunt- ers, being provided with a long train of nets made of small cords, and armed with muskets and other weapons, stretch out the nets in long parallel lines, contriving to include the bear between them. This done, they divide themselves into two parties, and take their stations, one party at each end of the avenue. A few peasants then approach , Introduction, 11 toils that might be broken by an animal pofsefsed of lefs than a hundredth part of his strength, having al- lured him into the trap where inevitable destruction awaits him. It is thus that, by means of a few ten- der twigs placed in the water, he has been able to con- fine whole droves of porpoises securely, till he can come upon them in their defencelefs state, and thus destroy them with the utmost facility*. In the same the place where the bear lies, and, .setting up a great shout, start him from his lair, from which he flies with speed. He no sooner gets to one side of this kind of alley, than, seeing the net, he takes care to avoid it, and, being still alarmed by the shouts and halloos of the pea- sants, he pushes forward towards one of the ends of the avenue, where the huntsmen, prepared to receive him, fire when they think he is fairly within reach. Finding himself now opposed in his attempt to escape this way, if he be not killed at the onset, he instantly turns, and hastens as speedily as he can towards the other end, where he is in like manner received by the other party. If these also should prove unsuc- cefsful, he makes again towards the other end, without ever attempting to break through the nets ; and so on he acts till he is finally dis- patched, which is generally in a short time. * In the river St. Lawrence, in Canada, these animals greatly abound ; and as they generally frequent the river in shoal water, in search of prey, the natives pursue this method of catching them: viz. there are some large banks, it should be observed, towards the mouth of the river, which arc left dry at low water; when the fishing season arrives, the people on shore collect together a great number of sallow twigs, or slender branches of other trees, and stick them into the sand pretty firmly, on the side towards the river, forming a long line of twigs, at moderate distances, which at the upper end is connected with the shore, an opening being left at the lower end, at which they may enter. As the tide rises, it covers the twigs, so as to keep them out of sight: the porpoise, in quest of his prey, gets within the line, where he continues his chace till he finds, by the ebbing of the tide, that it is f ime to retire into deeper water. He now makes towards the river, but 12 Natural-history. manner he has learned how to keep his corn from the depredations of the fowls of the air, by means of a small rope stretched around his fields at a little distance from the earth ; by experience proved to be an effec- tual barrier which, though prefsed with hunger, they cannot surmount*. When he is obliged to traverse the wildernefs alone, where hungry wolves are prowling in search of prey, he has learnt to defend himself against the twigs being then in part above water, and all agitated by the cur- rent, he no sooner sees them shaking and bobbing, than he takes fright, and retreats backward, as far as he can, from this tremendous rampart. The tide still continuing to ebb, he returns time after time; but never being able to overcome his dread of these terrific twigs, he rolls about until he is deserted entirely by the water; when those who placed the snare rush out in numbers, properly armed, and in this de- fencelefs state overpower him with ease. In this manner it has been known that more than an hundred of such huge creatures (one of which will yield about a hogshead of oil) have been killed, at one tide. * This mode of saving the corn fields I have seen practised in the Island of South Uist, one of the Hebrides, and I was afsured it is per- fectly efficacious. About the beginning of harvest, large flocks of wild geese, in their pafsage from the Norwegian solitudes, (where they hatch their young) to more fertile regions, frequently alight to refresh themselves in these islands as they pafs. The spot they universally choose to alight on is the grafsy margin of some small lake, which are there numerous. Hungry, as well as tired, they have no sooner refreshed themselves in the pool, than they'search around for food; and as the corn is then pretty nearly ripe, wherever any of it is left unpro. tected in the neighbourhood of these waters, it is quickly devoured, so as totally to disappoint the hopes of the husbandman. But the wary islander, informed by past experience of the instinct of these birds, take cares to surround, in proper time, such edges of his field with a. rope, made usually of straw, supported by small stakes, rising twelve or sixteen inches above the ground, which they never dare to pafs. I never saw any field where this precaution had been adopted, that had, sustained the smallest damage from these hungry depredators. Introduction. 13 their wary powers by a slight rope alone, and a bundle of straw or twiox trailed behind him*. To enumerate O all the devices which have been adopted to render ani- mals subservient to man, would require a work of great extent : those which are of most general impor- tance to society will form the subject of discufsion in some future part of this work. Insects and reptiles, though seemingly the most in- significant of animated beings, have an important part afsigned 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 irresis- tible. The strongest animal which treads the earth is frequently driven to madnefs by the endlefs irritation these insignificant beings produce : the sun himself is deprived of his light by the shading of their wings, and every leaf that can give support to animal life 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. His very existence itself, on many occasions^, * I was afsured by a respectable gentleman, a general officer, who has resided upwards of thirty years in Portugal, that this is the method uni- versally practised by the peasants of that country for insuring them- selves from the attack of wolves, when they find themselves under the necefsity of traversing the desarts alone, and that it is perfectly effica- cious. He added, that the wolf, like the shark, will sometimes follow a. person, at a small distance, for leagues together, but when thus armed will never attack him. 14 Natural-history. depends upon his speedily withdrawing beyond the sphere of their active incursions*. If their power be thus irresistible, their utility is not perhaps lefs conspicuous on this globe. Man has even been able, on some occasions, to make them be- come subservient to his will. The bee collects honey for his use : the moth, under his influence, affords him silk: the cantharis an active drug: the cochi- neal insect the most brilliant of his dyes. Even where they are totally beyond his controul they minister in- directly to his wants. Under the form of eggs, mag- gots, grubs, caterpillars, aureline, and flies, they fur- nish food to innumerable creatures, who augment his comforts in a thousand ways. But it is as the sca- vengers of this universe that these puny beings be- come chiefly salutary to man, and all animated nature. Without their unceasing aid in this respect, the air would become quickly tainted with the most noxious effluvia, which soon would put an end to animal exis- tence f. To obviate this evil, the beneficent creator * A few years since the island of Barbadoes was so much infested with ants, that the inhabitants, after having, in vain, tried every me- thod they could devise for extirpating them, and offered, without ef- fect, premiums to the amount of several thousand pounds to any per- son who should discover a method of checking their destructive ra- vages, were under the most serious apprehensions lest they should be obliged, on that account, to abandon the country entirely. While they were under this state of anxiety, the hurricane of 1780, which committed such terrible ravages in that country, happily proved so destructive to these irresistible depredators, as to free the inhabitants, since that time, from the immediate prospect of ruin which then stared them in the face. f- This is especially the case in tropical regions, where an animal no sooner dies than it is hurried forward with inconceivable rapidity Introduction. 15 Jiath decreed, that a numerous department of this clafs of beings, while in their reptile state, shall be unceas- ingly employed in searching for and devouring every thing that has once lived, and is now tending to de- cay*. Under this state of degradation these creatures are doomed to labour for a time with unceasing afsi- duity : and that nothing might divert their attention from this important businefs, even for one moment, the distinctions of sex are withheld from them while in this state: nor does it seem that they have a single perceptive faculty, unlefs it be that of striving to pre- serve their existence, and allay their insatiable appetite for food. Having, at length, however, with the most patient afsiduity, performed the menial task that was afsigned them, they are then called, by the bounty of the Creator, into another and superior state of exist- ence, in which they are destined to perform a part the most opposite which can be conceived to that they for- merly acted. The unsightly grub, after a temporary 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 into a state of the rankest putridity ; but it is so quickly devoured by the multitudinous swarms of maggots, ants, cockroaches, and other creatures of this clafs, which immediately seize upon it, that the soft parts of the carcase in a very short space of time disappear, and nothing but the bare bones remain, which in this case form a delicate anatomical preparation. * Maggots, grubs, and caterpillars, all are the larvae, or young, of various insects in one of their stages of existence. Maggots and grubs are generally the produce of flies of various sorts ; caterpillars, for the most part, are produced from butterflies and moths. These larvae are of neither sex, and never procreate while in this state. 16 Natural-history. attire, seem to claim the most distant alliance with the ugly caterpillar from whence it sprang. The attraction of sex seems to form the chief businefs of this period of life: food is neglected as if unnecefsary, and its life is devoted to amorous dalliance alone. Having soon provided a numerous progeny of voracious la- bourers, it leaves this transitory scene, to make room for those who are destined to supply its important place in the universe *. * The period of existence in each of these states varies greatly in different species of insects ; but in general they continue much longer" in the reptile state than that of the fly. The species of fly called ich- neumon remains in the water as a kind of worm for the space of about two years : in its fly state it seldom continues more than one day. The ephemeron is nearly the same. The grub of the cockchaffer re- mains under ground for about two years also ; in its fly state its life in general may endure about one month. The metamorphoses of the silk worm are as under : from the egg of the parent moth, when ex- posed to a due degree of heat, is produced a very small caterpillar, which instantly begins to feed voraciously ; and if proper food be sup- plied in abundance, it increases rapidly in size for the space of about six weeks, during which time it has experienced several lefser changes. About the end of this period it ceases to eat ; and having gradually enveloped itself in a matting of silk, usually called a cocoon, it re- mains within this kind of tomb for a certain time (usually about a week). If it be examined during this period, it is found to have lost the form of a caterpillar, and has afsumed the appearance of an oblong bell covered with a smooth glofsy sort of crust, more resembling an egg than any other animal production. This by naturalists has been called an aurelia. After remaining in this quiescent state its des- tined period of time, it begins to revive, and, like a chick in the egg, gradually acquires more animation, till at length it forces its way thro* th cocoon, and comes forth in the form of a moth, leaving its shell behind. In about two days, the businefs of procreation being finished, both parents die. Such, nearly, are the changes experienced by the whole of the butterfly tribe. Other insects differ considerably in thi as well as in other respects. Natural-history. 17 To trace the surprising changes to which these di- minutive beings are subject; to enumerate the periods of existence to which they are respectively destined in each of their separate states; to point out those won- derful instincts by which each of them is invariably determined to deposit its eggs where the young shall find proper food provided for them; to discover the substances that are most proper for affording suste- nance to each; to find out the means that are best adapted to diminish the numbers and check the rava- ges of each kind when they become pernicious to man; to describe the uses that can be made of any of them, or their productions, for augmenting human enjoy- ments; to exhibit the various powers that providence hath bestowed upon each for procuring its own sub- sistence, and guarding itself from the danger to which it is continually exposed; and to shew how each spe- cies is proportioned in force to that of its enemies, to prevent any one sort from being finally exterminated, will furnish abundant subject of curious remark in the body of this work. That no part of this universe might be left destitute of inhabitants, and that nothing might ever be suffered to run to waste, not only have beasts and insects been formed to range over the earth's surface, reptiles to crawl and burrow in its bowels, and there consume the food that has been prepared for them; but fish have been made to swim in the waters, and fowls to fly in the air. Each of these clafses of animals, di- rected by an unerring instinct, pursues its own incli- nations, regardlefs of the welfare of others, or the gene- ral preservation of the whole; we shall, however, have VOL. I. B . IS Introduction. occasion to show, while we trace with a discrimina- tive eye the various ways by which they have been impelled severally to act for the procreation, incubation, and preservation of the species, and the surprising migration that innumerable bodies of these are obliged to make at stated periods, that in consequence of these operations they become eminently beneficial to man, and highly instrumental in promoting the general wel- fare of the universe. Vegetables are so necefsary to the preservation and prosperity of animals, that the one cannot be minutely examined without connecting them with the other. Without the aid of vegetables, animal life would be quickly extinguished. The superiority of man over all other animals is, perhaps, best exemplified by the knowledge he hath attained of the properties of vege- tables, and the uses to which they may be applied in the taming of animals, and rendering them subser- vient to his will. We have already had occasion to remark that man is the only creature which hath been able to trace the connections between the seed and the soil. He alone knows the effect of cultivating that soil, and of sowing those seeds which, at a future time, are to minister to his wants. In this way he hath attained the power of multiplying, at will, any parti- cular kind of plant he shall choose, and of providing food at all seasons of the year, not only for himself, but for many other creatures; which, without this fore- cast in him, must in many regions of the globe inevi- tably have perished. It is by availing himself of this faculty chiefly that he hath been enabled to tame and to domesticate many of the most useful clafses of ani- Natural-history. 19 sj who, feeling their dependence upon him for that food which they could not provide for themselves, wil- lingly submit to his power. Man then, as an agri- culturalist, occupies a distinguished pre-eminence above all other animals on the globe: and in propor- tion to his knowledge must his power be. But his knowledge will, in this respect, be best augmented by learning the facts that have been ascertained by others on this subject. To collect then, and to concentrate these into as small a focus as pofsible, is one of the chief objects of this undertaking. Man cannot contemplate the vegetable creation without recalling the idea of beauty, sweetnefs, and a thousand charms that captivate the senses. The per- fume of the rose, the brilliancy of the lily, the sweet- nefs of the violet, and the stately magnificence of the forest, succefsively catch his attention, and delight him. What other animal feels these agreeable sen- sations? None. Man alone is alike susceptible of the charms of beauty, the pleasures of harmony, and the luxury of perfumes. Here then is another distin- guishing character which separates man from the brutes that perish. It is a circumstance worthy of remark, that though many other animals pofsefs the sense of seeing, hear- ing, and smelling, in much greater perfection perhaps than man, yet all these animals are destitute of those delicate sensations that are conveyed to his mind through organs of similar destination. The truth is, man feels, from his own experience, that two distinct sensations are conveyed to his mind by means of the same organ, one of which may be called the mere B2 20 Introduction. animal, the other the harmonic sensation. He is aware also, that, though both these are experienced in a certain degree by most men, there are individuals of the human species who are susceptible of the one alone, without a single trait of the other; while again, there are individuals w f ho, though they do indeed per- ceive the influence of both, acknowledge that the im- prefsions of the harmonic sensations are much weaker than those of the other kind; varying in all the pof- sible degrees between the absolute want and the most refined extent of perception. To illustrate these positions, it is only necefsary to state what no one can have well failed to remark, that there are persons who pofsefs the sense of hearing most acutely, so as to receive the impulse of the slightest sounds, but without being able to perceive any the smallest difference between them, whether concordant or discordant; and by consequence are totally incapable of being affected by the power of musical tones. One gentleman of my acquaintance, who was a man of good understanding, and of some degree of eminence in the literary world, afsured me that he could never distinguish one tune from another, although he had heard it repeated ever so often; and that the only method he had of recognising a song was by its words; so that if the words were changed he knew it no more. He added, that he could sometimes distinguish one tune from another by the quicknefs in the succefsion of the notes in one more than the other; but, what- ever the difference of the tones or the movements were, he could perceive no distinction, if an equal number of notes nearly were struck in a given time. Nor was Natural-history. 21 his mind affected by musical sounds in any way dif- ferent from those which were produced upon it by any other sounds equally loud, and quickly repeated. Such a person is said to have " no ear for music:" now, although it be impofsible for one who has a soul attuned to the power of musical melody to conceive how this can be; yet it would be nearly as foolish to dispute the fact, as for a blind man to deny the exist- ence of colours, merely because he cannot form an idea how such a thing can be. This gentleman stands undoubtedly in the same situation, in regard to the sense of hearing, with mere animals: nor are even singing birds, perhaps, an exception to this rule. Their notes may be considered as mere instinctive sounds, that are uttered at certain periods of incubation chiefly, to convey information of utility to those who are im- mediately concerned. Exactly of the same kind is the cluck of the dunghil fowl, or the cackling it makes after laying its eggs. No bird seems to feel much de- light in copying the song of another; and, although, by dint of repetition, one bird may be made to borrow the notes of another, in the same manner as a parrot may be taught to speak, yet he never gives a genuine indication of being delighted. The screeching of the peacock, and the song of the thrush, are, to every ap- pearance, equally disregarded by the linnet or the wren ; and the harsh notes of the raven are as pleasing to the birds of the same kind, as the warblings of the nightingale are to those of its kind. It is the human mind alone that is capable of being affected univer- sally with melodious or discordant sounds, however they may be produced; and the power of discrimi- 22 % Introduction. nating these harmonic tones, is a faculty conferred upon man alone, with a view, it should seem, to ex- tend the sphere of his enjoyments far beyond that which can be experienced by any other created being. Nor is it in regard to sounds alone that human beings are endowed with a twofold faculty of percep- tion: it is equally palpable in regard to sight and smelling. The raven smells his prey, and is, by the delicate sensibility of his olfactory organs, directed to it from a great distance; and he experiences, no doubt, on these occasions, a pleasure of the same kind with that which allured Sancho Pan$a so powerfully at the wedding of the rich Caimacho. In like manner, the spaniel traces by the scent, with an acute degree of sensibility, the game that was destined for his prey. In this respect the organs of smelling answer the same purpose to man as to other animals. But man is not only invited by the fragrance of fruit (the strawberry for instance) to taste its sweets; the perfume of the rose proves highly grateful to his senses, though it administers nothing towards his sustenance; and thou- sands of flowers and plants, which are in no other respects useful to him, by shedding their balmy influ- ence around, excite in him the utmost pleasure : nor have we the smallest reason to believe that any other animal experiences this double sensation. Nature seems to have aimed at nothing more, with regard to them, than the useful', but in respect to man, there is superadded a still higher degree of pleasure, for the sake of gratification only. In common with other animals, man sees objects at a distance, by which he is enabled to discover those Natural-history. 23 that are useful, and to avoid such as might be hurtful. He, in common with them, is enabled, by the means of light and shade, to discriminate shapes; and, by the various combinations of colours with which these are tinged, he can easily distinguish one object from another. To these uses, we have every reason to be- lieve, the sense of vision, among mere animals, is entirely limited: but man not only distinguishes ob- jects from each other; he does more; he can be charmed with the beauty of forms, the brilliancy of colours, the force of contrasts; and can experience those complex sensations of delight which result from a combination of all these in harmonic proportions. Thus it happens that, though man hath no more organs of sense than belong to other animals, he is enabled to feel a variety of sensations of which they never can have the smallest notion. It is by the force, and this extended application, of his senses, that man derives that kind of mental pleasure which is gene- rally known by the name of taste; that faculty by which he derives a gratification that has a powerful influence upon his conduct, though it has no imme- diate reference to the preservation of the animal spe- cies. Nor is there a greater diversity in the acutenefs of the organs of different individuals, in regard to the mere animal perceptions, than there is among indi- viduals in regard to those sensations which have refe- rence to objects of taste; those organs being so con- structed, in some men, as to convey mere animal per- ceptions without the smallest trace of any other; while again, in others, the influence of the harmonic perceptions is felt in so faint a degree as to be scarcely 24 Introduction. perceptible; and others still are to be found in which those harmonic perceptions, as I would call them, exist in all pofsible states, from the slightest pofsible degree, to the most acute sensation. As this varia- tion, in respect to the degrees of harmonic perception, takes place alike in all the senses (one man pofsefsing an ear for music in the highest perfection, while he feels none of the harmonic perceptions of sight; an- other man receiving the warmest imprefsions from visible objects,, on whom the softest musical notes make no imprefsion, and so of others), it necefsarily follows, that the perceptions of one man, under these circumstances, can in no wise be communicated to another, though they both make use of the same words, which both think they equally understand. The man who has no perception of harmonic sounds does indeed hear the notes of an instrument as well as he who has a musical ear; but, feeling no strong sen- sations produced by them, he is apt to consider the ecstasy which these notes produce upon the other as mere affectation, and laughs at it as folly. And the same variation holds good in regard to every other sensation that is derived from the harmonic perception of the senses. As we thus find the mind of man, in many cases, susceptible of a twofold sensation, through the medium of the same organ of sense (the one of which has a reference to utility and the preservation of the animal fabric, and the other to pleasurable sensations alone), we can, in like manner, perceive a similar twofold imprefsion in what may be called the sixth sense, which man is endued with, under the name of the Natural- Ins lory. 25 moral sense; a faculty given to man alone above the ordinary animals of the earth, by which he can grasp the idea of mind and incorporeal intelligence. By some men, this can only be obtained by a series of dry and abstract ratiocination, while on others it is imprefsed with the fervid glow of the most pleasurable sensation. By the first clafs, the human mind is con- templated with the same coolnefs and tranquillity as a vegetable or inanimate object; by the other, it can- not be contemplated at all, but as an animate sensi- tive object, which is susceptible of feeling, and capa- ble of exciting either pleasurable sensations, or the reverse. It is owing to the different degrees of acute - nefs in the harmonic perceptions of the moral sense, that different individuals in the human species annex such a variety of ideas to the sensation which is deno- minated love. To some it conveys no other idea than that of a mere animal gratification, in which the mind takes so little concern as to remain cool and undis- turbed; while in others it excites such a glow of pleasurable sensation as to occupy the whole soul, so as to render every other object comparatively insignifi- cant but that which is immediately concerned. A man who pofsefses these harmonic perceptions alike in the moral and corporeal senses, and who is, of course, liable to be hurried into the most extravagant excefses of pleasure or distrefs, will, by some people, be accounted little better than a bedlamite; while the phlegmatic man will be viewed, in his turn, by the man of keen sensibility, as a despicable character ; and his actions will be attributed to selfish, or baser motives. 26 Introduction. It is not, at all times, within the power of the man of keen sensations, to form a just idea of another who, having evidently the use of the same senses, and not being deprived of reason, is unhappily inca- pable of feeling imprefsions of the same kind with himself: and it is yet more difficult for the man who knows he hears the same sounds as distinctly, or sees the same objects as clearly, as another, to be brought to think he is not fully as capable of appreciating their power as another* Two men, of the above description, may be equally just, honest, and honourable; may be equally averse to do harm to any human being, and, of course, equally entitled to the esteem of each other: but, as the one can never comprehend, in the smallest degree, the circumstances which affect the other, their conduct must, on many occasions, appear to be mutu- ally inexplicable. This was precisely the case with Henry the Great, and Sully, his inimitable minister. They were both sensible of the rectitude of each other's mind, and mutually valued each other on that very ac- count; but never was any thing more natural or more honest than the astonishment which Sully exprefsed at the delicate feelings which gave Henry so much uneasi- nefs respecting his queen: " I have often urged him," says Sully [I quote from memory] " to send her over " the mountains with all her attendants, which he " might have done with the utmost facility, and thus " have freed himself from a perpetual torment; yet, tc notwithstanding the acutenefs of his anguish, I " could never get any other answer from him, but that " he could not do it ; the thing was impossible." Natural-history. 27 " I never could conceive," says the honest Sully, " the " meaning of this; for it was certainly the easiest " thing imaginable." It is not to my purpose here to shew how much the comforts of life are imbittered by the misunderstand- ings which arise amongst individuals from the differ- ence of acutenefs in their harmonic perceptions. I shall barely state that David Hume and J,J. Roufseau afforded, a few years ago, a most ludicrous illustration of it. Hume, who was totally divested of those har- monic perceptions which gave rise to the rapturous sensibilities of Roufseau, could no more comprehend the sensations of the man he wished to befriend, than Roufseau could comprehend the principles which in- duced the other to wish to alleviate distrefses which he did not feel. Their contest was like that of a blind man, who expected to communicate to a deaf one the raptures which he himself derived from the moving strains of some melodious music ; while the deaf man, regardlefs of their charms, was preparing for his blind friend a gaudy apartment, in which the brilliant ob- jects that delighted his own eyes were displayed to the greatest advantage; they were mutually disappointed and enraged at each other. To return, then, from this digrefsion, which was intended merely to shew that, in the vegetable crea- tion, beauty, as well as utility, ought to be adverted to. In our survey of this universe, therefore, the harmonic perceptions ought to be by no means over- looked; and objects of taste, to which they have a refer- ence, ought to be particularly noticed, as they con- tribute in such an eminent degree to the enjoyments 28 Introduction. of human life. But for these, the magnificence of the forest, the verdure of the mead, and the softened re- pose of the retiring cottage, would be uselefs. The evanescent forms of distant hills, the enlivening notes of the thrush, or the more soothing warbling of the nightingale, blended with the murmurs of the rill, the perfumes of the plants, and the beauty and infinite variety of flowers ; the vivid tints of the morning, and the mellow softnefs of the evening sun, would alike, in vain, have been spread before us, to regale our senses. But although it be impofsible to contemplate nature without being strongly imprefsed by the beauty of the objects it exhibits, yet utility will be chiefly attended to in our proposed survey of her wonders. With this view we shall advert to the structure and organization of plants, the difsemination and the germination of seeds, with the means of accelerating or retarding these; the various other ways of propagating them ; the means of obtaining varieties, and of preserving them unchanged, after they have been thus obtained; the adaptation of plants to the diverse peculiarities of heat and cold, moisture and drynefs, light and shade, elevation and deprefsion, fertility and barrennefs, and every other incident: the diversities which take place respecting the stature of vegetables, from that of the Cedar of Lebanon, to the " Hyfsop thatgroweth upon the wall;" or the still more minute mofses, imperceptible individu- ally to the naked eye when they first begin to spring up, but then only sullying the lustre of the hardest stones and other solid substances, and perceptible only by the help of the microscope. The variations also that are Natural-history. 2U observable among plants in respect to longevity, from that of the mountain oak, which flourisheth for ages unimpaired, to that of the mushroom which springeth up in an hour, and perisheth within the day; the in- numerable uses of plants, affording food to man, under the various forms of fruits, roots, grain, and esculents, in their natural state; supplying also sustenance to the liirger animals in the state of herbage, and to the lefser animals and birds in the state of seeds, varying to in- finity, and admirably adapted to^the nature of the creatures who prey upon them; and in all their different states, as furnishing a proper nidus for insects, which are directed, by an instinct more peculiarly their own, to place their eggs on the very plant which alone among the great variety could furnish nourishment for the support of its young, will all be described; we shall also have occasion to take notice of the uses of the different kinds of vegetables in medicine, arts, manufactures, and com- merce. These, and an almost infinite diversity of pe- culiarities respecting the vegetable kingdom, will afford subjects of investigation that must necefsarily enlarge the understanding, and prove both interesting and use- ful to every contemplative mind. The treasures of the mineral kingdom, being more concealed, are not so alluring to the senses, and are of course, to most men, lefs interesting than animals or vegetables; but they present themselves to the reflect- ing mind under innumerable points of view that are interesting, chiefly as affording the materials on which nature, by her slow but certain operations, is conti- nually producing changes that tend to augment the multiplication of plants, for the preservation and the 30 Introduction. accommodation of animals. The diamond, and a varie- ty of other crystals, are thus formed in the bowels of the earth, by a combination of substances which originally partook of qualities widely different from those they now pofsefs. These again, by a change of place, and the unceasing operation of natural agents, are, in their turn, gradually impaired, and slowly made to undergo a decomposition and progrefsive change of form ami qualities; so that the brilliant, which at one period of time adorned the plume of a prince, may, after the revolution of many ages, become a constituent part of a soil which supports a plant that nourishes a reptile. Man, in the mean while, is endowed with faculties which enable him to avail himself of the qualities they at present pofsefs for his own purposes. The natural emerald and ruby he can polish into brilliancy; he can even form artificial substances that shall emulate their lustre. Gold he can separate from its drofs; and, on account of its ductility, and untarnishing lustre, he can with it beautify many objects, and at the same time endow them with a degree of durability they could not otherwise pofsefs. Iron he can separate from its ore, and, by various procefses which his in- genuity hath discovered, can, at pleasure, give it a polish nearly equal to the diamond; render it brittle as glafs, or elastic beyond almost any other substance in nature; or, by blending these two opposite qua- lities, he can give it a keennefs of edge, a toughnefs and hardnefs that fit it for being made into an infinite D diversity of tools, by the power of which he can ope- rate at his will. In like manner, the ores of all the other metals afford materials for his ingenuity to work Natural-history. 31 on, and furnish that diversity of machines and imple- ments which so efsentially contribute to extend his power, and augment his enjoyment. In the bowels of the earth he finds also a fund of materials for making glafs, some of which are so pellucid as to emulate the lustre of the diamond, while others of inferior quality answer best the common purposes of life. Here also the potter finds the ductile materials for his art, which, under his plastic fingers, are moulded into innume- rable shapes, and so varied in degrees of finenefs as to suit every purpose; from the purest porcelain, forming the most elegant decorations for the palace of the prince, to the brown pipkin of the peasant, or the rude brick which forms the cottage wall. Stones, marbles, alabaster, salts, sulphurs, stallactites, flints, spars, and an endlefs variety of other materials for ornamental uses, are derived from the same source. The mineral kingdom therefore, though lefs attractive to the senses than those of animals or vegetables, is, in many re- spects, of the highest utility to man; and, on account of the surprising and beneficial changes which he is able to produce upon the crude materials it presents, is not perhaps upon the whole lefs interesting to him. Our knowledge of nature, however, would be ex- tremely imperfect, were we to confine ourselves to the three divisions which the inventors of the clafsific system have determined to be the region of natural- history; by which it would seem that nothing beyond them is included. For the purpose they had in view, their arrangement may not be improper. But, as a clafs of natural objects, of great influence in the uni- verse, would be thus entirely excluded, we shall not 32 Introduction. circumscribe ourselves by embarrafsing clafses and subdivisions, but shall contemplate every object and phenomenon as they succefsively present them- selves; not only as they exist in their primary state, but as they are liable to be severally affected by the influence of natural agents, from which result many of the most beautiful phenomena. Indeed, it is by viewing objects as connected with others, that the sublime economy of nature can alone be discover- ed. On these accounts, we consider the elementary parts of nature as equally entitled to notice with the organic; and they will of course obtain an equal share of our attention. Hence the properties of water and air, with the phenomena they exhibit under the various changes of which they are susceptible, and the effects they thus produce as natural agents, will be in- vestigated; hence also the influence of gravitation, electricity, magnetism, light and heat, evaporation and condensation, density and levity, sound and vi- sion, with all those phenomena which have been ge- nerally included under the name of natural physics, will necefsarily be considered under this division of our work; for it is by the intervention of these influ- ences alone that the detached objects of nature come to be cemented, as it were, together into one beautiful whole, and that those discords which, when separately viewed, appear to be harsh and unpleasing, are found considerably to augment the effect of the general har- mony. One of the most forcible laws of nature is, " there " shall be no waste." There is not a plant that grows which does not afford sustenance to some animal ; nor Natural-history. 33 is there an animal that does not furnish perpetual food to some living creature, even during its own existence; and, when its life is extinguished, it is converted into a luxuriant repast to numbers of creatures who could not live without it. The largest terrestrial animals are usually endowed with desires which make them relish vegetable food; and by- them the plants, which spon- taneously spring from the earth, are chiefly consumed. Some animals, however, which could not be nourished by vegetables, are pofsefsed of such strength as to be able to destroy those of large size, and devour them; while others of the carnivorous tribe are endowed with cunning, which enables them to circumvent those creatures whom they could not subdue by any other means. Thus the life of every animal is, by nature, a state of warfare, and there subsists a continual strug- gle for life between it and others during the whole period of existence. The means adopted by one spe- cies of animal for overpowering or circumventing an- other, and the schemes which others employ for elud- ing, in their turn, the snares of their enemies, will form a very considerable and interesting part of the work on which we are engaged. In this destructive warfare the number of animals is, to appearance, per- petually diminishing; but the death of any individual is only an apparent lofs of one animal, whilst it affords renovation of life to another species. The duration of life is thus indeed curtailed, but the number of ani- mated beings is, in the end, prodigiously augmented. In this view it would seem that the utmost duration of animal life is circumscribed within a very narrow space. Those which escape the violence or the cun- VOL. I. C 34 Introduction. ning of the rapacious creatures that 'are perpetually in search of them, have to encounter diseases and acci- dents by which they are hourly dropping off; and the few who survive these dangers must, in a short time, endure the decrepitude of age, by which the vital func- tions are gradually impaired. Their bodies become in this state a prey to animals which had neither strength to overpower, nor cunning to circumvent them when living, and which, of course, would have been de- prived of food, had the more rapacious one been able to consume the whole; they would not then leave a portion to those humble scavengers who are appointed to clear the earth of its impurities, and to leave not an atom of waste in that which hath borne the semblance of life. In bringing forward the diminutive animals who perform these important offices, and in tracing the changes they undergo, we shall have occasion to unfold a beautiful arrangement that cannot fail to strike the most torpid mind with astonishment and wonder. The economy of nature does not however end here. Every thing that has had life, whether animal or vege- table, when it mixes in any way with earthy sub- stances, communicates to that earth a degree of fer- tility which it did not before pofsefs. In this way does every animal, when living and when dead, tend to augment the fruitfulnefs of that soil from which it de- rived its own subsistence; and every vegetable, when consumed in any way, must unavoidably contribute towards the same end. Thus is established a never- failing source of increase to animated beings on this globe, which, if not counteracted by other means, must continue as long as the present constitution of Natural-history. 35 the universe shall be allowed to subsist. The circum- stances which tend either to retard or to accelerate the progrefs of this augmentation, will naturally become the subjects of investigation in the subsequent pages of this work. The same invariable laws of economy apply to all inanimate as to all animate substances. There is no stone nor solid substance in nature, under the pecu- liarities which affect this universe, but is fitted to pro- duce some plant which ministers immediately to animal subsistence, and in its progrefs and decay tends to generate mould, which is the matrix of other vegetable productions of a higher growth. Those incrustations of mofses, lichens, and other minute plants, which, to the eye of ignorance, appear only blemishes on the hardest stones, are the first efforts of nature to convert those substances into mould for the support of life. And though the progrefs of meliorating these hard substances be, in this way, extremely slow, yet none are as yet known which finally elude its power; indeed, among the softer substances, this progrefs is, on some occasions, rapid beyond exprefsion. In these opera- tions the atmospheric air is an agent of wonderful power and activity, when impregnated with moisture in a genial state of warmth, giving birth to innumera- ble plants which, for a time, deriving nourishment chiefly from their leaves, gradually insinuate their fibrous roots into the smallest crevices of the stones, and in their growth burst them asunder, and crumble them into powder. These operations, though certain, are yet in many cases so minute as to elude our ordi- nary observation; but, on greater occasions of the C 2 36 Introduction. same sort, they become apparent, and astonish us by the amazing power of their efforts. In this way large rocks may be sometimes seen that have been split asunder by the expansion of the roots of trees that gradually insinuated themselves among their crevices, which roots were only discovered and laid open to view, when they had hurled these mafses from their seats, and had exposed a wider surface for nature to act upon, to accelerate their reduction into a more ap- propriate matrix for vegetables. Not only do roots, by their gradual expansion, tend thus to divide the substances into which they are im- bedded, but, when the shoots which spring from them have acquired some height, the wind, by agitating their tops, lacerates the tender fibres, which, decaying in their place, add to the fertility of the soil; while the larger roots remaining still entire, and being powerfully acted on as by a long lever from the top of the tree, shatter and loosen the surrounding substances, and thus render the soil considerably more pervious. It would be foreign to our purpose here to enlarge on all the means employed by nature for rendering earth more fitted for the growth of plants, such as, among others, the infinite ramification of roots, which, by attracting water from above, give to the mould a moisture it would not otherwise pofseis, and thus ren- der it a fit nidus for worms and reptiles, who, by their perforation in quest of food, render it every way per- meable by the fibres of plants; it is enough for us here to hint only at these things as sources of entertainment, which remain to be explained by us in future. We should not even mention the power of frost in breaking Natural-history. 37 asunder the most solid bodies, were it not to show that these physical operations cannot be excluded from our view, without rendering imperfect that beautiful eco- nomy which it is our aim to make conspicuous to the most inattentive observer. Heat, it is well known, expands all bodies on which it acts, making them occupy a greater space than be- fore; and cold consequently contracts them. This law takes place in regard to water, and every other body, solid as well as fluid. Ice is only water in a solid state, and the same law applies to ice as to wa- ter; for, when it is once reduced to that solid state, cold contracts, and heat expands it perhaps univer- sally. It is only at the instant of its change from a fluid to a solid, that this rule is reversed, for then it expands to a considerable degree, occupying a larger space than before, and that too so instantaneously and so forcibly, as to resemble the effects of gunpowder more than any other power known. When the ex- pansion, however, takes place in the open air, it is in a silent, imperceptible manner, and the way by which it can be easily proved, is by the pieces of ice which are found ever to float upon water (being specifically lighter than it), but which, when confined in a close vefsel filled with water, firmly stopped, and exposed to a degree of cold sufficient to freeze it, will burst it asunder in a manner similar to gunpowder; and the explosion is more or lefs violent in proportion to the force of the containing vefsel. In an ordinary open bottle, which has only the contraction of the neck to prevent its rising upwards, it is generally burst with- out any perceptible explosion; but a bomb shell, whose 38 Introduction. force is very great, has been burst by it with a power- ful noise, and the fragments of the shell scattered to a great distance, just as if it had been burst by gun- powder itself. If water chance to be contained in the irregular cavities and fifsures between rocks, whenever the frost becomes so intense as to freeze that water, its expansive power is such as to split the strongest asunder, and in this manner immense fragments of stone are frequently separated from their lofty sum- mits in polar regions during winter, and precipitated to the bottom. It is in the same manner that frost is found invariably to reduce into minute fragments clay, marie, chalk, and all other compact earthy substances that are capable of imbibing moisture; and in this way it becomes a most powerful agent in many of the operations of nature. A few other substances pofsefs the same quality as water, of expanding in the act of pafsing from a fluid to a solid state 5 but these being lefs liable to undergo such changes in the common state of our atmosphere, are better fitted to answer the occasional purposes of man, than to act as natural agents. Water becomes, under different modifications of temperature, a still more universal and beneficent agent than it is by the influence of frost. The ex- pansion of water continues to augment, in a regular progrefsion, nearly in proportion to the degree of heat to which it is subjected, until it reach the boiling point; but, when pushed beyond this degree, it expands more forcibly, and, losing the form of water, it then as- cends copiously in the state of an elastic vapour, af- suming the denomination of steam. This procefs i Natural-history. 3 termed evaporation. In this state of vapour it mixes with the atmospheric air, and ascends to a greater or a lefs height, according to circumstances, which will be explained hereafter. When water is in the state of vapour it is sometimes invisible, and sometimes appa- rent, being th'e principal ingredient in the formation of clouds, which are carried by the wind from one region to another, and are the sources of the varying phenomena of rain, dew, hail, and snow, whose ge- nerally benign influence upon this earth are well known. But, though evaporation goes on much faster at the boiling point than at any inferior degree of heat, yet it never ceases entirely in any temperature we know, if the air be not surcharged with moisture; the degree of evaporation being, in general, proportioned to the heat at the time. It is in this way that pools of stag- nant water in every part of the globe are quickly dried up during warm weather, if they be not succefsively replenished by abundant showers of rain. Thus is there established an uninterrupted circulation of mois- ture throughout the whole globe at all times, which is so distributed, as in the most effectual manner to pro- mote the growth of plants, and preserve the life of animals wherever they exist. The watery vapours, buoyed up by the air, diffuse themselves along the mountains in the form of frequent fogs, which refresh the plants by a gentle moisture, the want of which would soon be there felt in a distrefsing degree. They fall also upon these hills more abundantly in showers of rain, part of which sinking deep into the earth, serves to fill those numerous reservoirs which no eva- 40 Introduction, poration can ever diminish, from which proceed those perennial springs that so gratefully administer to the wants of man, and of every living thing upon the earth. The remainder form those gurgling rills which, whilst they refresh and fertilise the neighbouring districts, serve to drain off superfluous moisture, and in their progrefs gradually swell into rivers of great magnitude, sustaining innumerable swarms of fishes, and opening an easy communication between man and man, thus extending the bounds of amity and commerce. These rivers, as they flow towards the sea, and the ocean itself, by spreading out a large surface to the sun and air, restore again to the atmosphere a part of that moisture of which it had been deprived, and is again dispersed, as before, to renew the verdure, and to fill those fountains which never cease to flow. But here for the present we must stop; it belongs to another part of our work to investigate more mi- nutely the beauty of this sublime department of na- ture. We have had occasion already incidentally to men- tion the atmosphere as a powerful agent in the opera- tions of nature; but its extensive influence claims some farther notice in this place. The atmospheric air, though not the parent of heat, has such a power in modifying it, that, without the intervention of the atmosphere, the benign influences of heat could never have been experienced on our globe. Objects might have been scorched by the sun, but they could not have been warmed; plants might have been consumed, but they never could have been revived by its influ- ence. Without the intervention of atmospheric air Natural-history. 41 light would have been uselefs, and sound could never have existed. The atmosphere is the region in which electricity is destined to exhibit those awful appearances of thunder and lightning, and other phenomena which derive their origin from the same source. It may be called the general alembic of nature, in which a vast variety of aeriform fluids are perpetually undergoing succefsive changes and modifications, by which new substances of powerful activity are produced, operating unseen in a thousand ways. These, however, though powerful, are lefs obvious effects of this diaphanous fluid than those which result from the property it pof- sefses of being readily moved by an infinity of causes, and which renders it the source of a diversity of in- teresting phenomena. From its extreme susceptibility, and the quality it so eminently possesses of being expanded by heat, it becomes the universal vehicle for dispersing a genial warmth, and spreading it every where around the globe, covering it as with a mantle, to defend it from those rigors which must otherwise have destroyed the germ of life. The sun, when it shines upon the earth, being reflected back from its surface, suddenly heats those particles of air which are nearest to it : these be- ing by this means greatly expanded beyond the bulk they formerly occupied, are forced to rise till they reach that higher region of the atmosphere which is of the same specific gravity with themselves; there inter- mingling with the colder particles with which they are surrounded, they gradually communicate heat to them, and being in their turn cooled, are condensed, and slowly descend again towards the earth's surface, sup- 4fi Introduction. plying the place of those cold particles which have been successively heated and carried upwards. In this manner is established a perpetual, though impercep- tible circulation of air over the earth's surface; and by this means the noxious effluvia, which are so copi- ously generated wherever animals exist, are carried away and dispersed through the vast aerial expanse, far beyond the seat of men and other animals. But when the heat, from any cause, becomes stronger in one place on the earth's surface than ano- ther, a current of air is drawn forcibly from other parts towards this point, not in a perpendicular, but horizontal direction ; the power and manifold influence of which are well known under the name of wind. To explain the circumstances which cause the principal winds that are known to prevail, at stated periods, in certain parts of the globe; to point out the way in which these winds necessarily operate, in moderating the inconveniences to which climates, without their influence, must be subject; to shew in how many ways they diminish the heat, and augment the mois- ture of the torrid zone, and produce contrary effects on those of polar regions, co-operating with other causes, scarcely known in former times, so as to render those districts of the globe which the ancients deemed totally unfit for the abode of man and other animals, by reason of excessive heat, not only habitable, but sa- lutary and pleasing to man and beast, and yielding great variety and abundance of the choicest productions of nature; to explain all these circumstances more fully, will afford ample materials for many interesting pages in some future number of this work. Natural-history. 43- To have a clear comprehension of the utmost extent of the ceconpmy of nature which produces these asto- nishing effects, many other circumstances, which form- the varieties of climate that take place in different parts of the world, must, however, be distinctly explained, so as-to become apparent to the most ordinary under- standing; that he, in short, " who runs may read," and comprehend the power of those arrangements which are at once so simple and sublime. To do this, will be a delightful part of the task assigned us, as we feel that it cannot fail to impress the mind of every attentive reader with the most pleasing and elevated sensations. Nor let any one be deterred from the at- tempt by a dread of supposed difficulty before him; for the laws of nature are all so simple, that to be clearly understood they need only to be plainly stated, without any attempt at ornament; and let these state- ments be viewed not as wonderful arcana, but as plain and ordinary inductions. After the fundamental circumstances which occasion variations of climate are clearly comprehended, and the accessaries which tend to augment or to diminish that influence have been' distinctly explained, geo- graphy will then become one of the most alluring of all studies; because, instead of overloading the me- mory, as it does at present, by the recollection of a number of phrases, incessantly repeated without con- veying distinct ideas, and keeping it thus perpetually in confusion, the judgment will be brought in aid of memory, by recalling the ideas, not of separate and detached things which have no necessary connexion with each other, but of universal symmetry and har- 44 Introduction. monic arrangements. Each particular will be in this case recognized as the part of some great and harmo- nious whole, which, when thus contemplated, will be clearly seen to be so intimately connected as not to admit of being ever after separated from each other. When we shall have advanced thus far, our views of nature will be sublime and enchanting; every object which shall claim our attention will at once find its proper place, and we shall be able to investigate its peculiarities with intelligence and delight : we shall see how admirably the camel has been formed for tra- versing those parched regions in which it is found, and where no other animal could subsist; we shall perceive how well cattle, horses, and sheep, are cal- culated to consume the abundant and succulent pro- duce of more mild and temperate zones ; and how the rein-deer is able to find abundant nourishment in polar regions where no other domestic animal could subsist, and to furnish alone almost every necessary of life to a frugal and a patient people. We shall see how pecu- liarly adapted the rice plant is for subsisting the nu- merous inhabitants of the tropics, whose fields are un- avoidably overflowed with water at one season, and scorched up by the most sterile aridity at another; how naturally wheat is fitted to prosper in temperate climes, and barley to come rapidly to perfection in the short but uninterrupted heat of a polar summer. We shall be able to perceive with what a beneficent ceco- nomy nature hath furnished that profusion of succu- lent fruits, and aromatic plants, in torrid regions, to refresh the inhabitants with a nourishing fluid; and to correct the effects of the crude kind of diet to which Natural-history. 45 they are necefsarily restricted ; how milk, wines, and oil, have been abundantly given to the temperate cli- mates, and beer to the parts approaching the poles. It is then that he will be able to say, in the emphatic, language of Shakespear, that he " Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks; " Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." In our progrefs through this department it is not proposed to prosecute any systematic plan, but merely to give a series of difsertations, which, though each shall form a distinct whole by itself, will still, like that nature of which they treat, each tend to throw light upon the others, so as to cause the whole to make a deeper imprefsion upon the mind than could have been the case had they been entirely separated. These difsertations will not all be written by the same hand, but they will be executed by a diversity of persons, who are each, in a peculiar degree, conversant with that department which they respectively undertake. From this arrangement it is expected that many beneficial consequences will result. Not only will there be a better chance of thus obtaining the most correct in- formation under every head; but as it is more easy for one who is writing on a subject that has long been fa- miliar to him, than for a mere compiler, who reads at the moment to collect information, to arrange the mat- ter in a clear and perspicuous manner; to bring facts together that strongly tend to illustrate each other; to bring parallels and contrasts that appear beautiful and striking; and also to comprefs the whole into a smaller 4nl as the phenomena that result from this peculiarity of configuration of the crystals of water are of exten- sive influence in rural economy, they require to be Phenomena of Frost. 19 here particularly described. In this case, a thin cake of the earth upon the surface seems to have been first hardened by the frost; but this, in most instances, is not a continued cake; it is divided by many fifsures into a great number of detached fragments of different sizes and shapes. Under each of these fragments of earthy matter (or islands, as they would appear, if water floated around them), if it be lifted up, you will find a cluster of crystalline columns supporting it, in mafses, also detached from others. These columns in each mafs stand quite close to each other, are transparent as the purest crystal, and for the most part afsume a perpendicular position : they are round, taken individually, about the thicknefs of a middle- sized pin, all of one height, and their height, more or lefs, in proportion to the intensenefs of the frost, usually from half an inch to two inches in the first night of the frost. If one of these bundles of columns, with their capital of earth, be taken up by hand, it separates from the base quite easily, though there is always a thin film of earth adhering to the bottom of the columns ; but below that film of earth the frost hath not as yet penetrated. If one of these bundles of columns be examined after the frost has been conti- nued for two nights, the columns are found to have attained a greater height in consequence of an addi- tion that has been made to the base, each column (which is exactly of the same form and size with that above, and which is separated from it only by the thin film of earth that invariably adheres to their base) forming now a column of two joints. This second set of columns are augmented in their turn by a third b a 20 Phenomena of Frost. \ */ set pushing up directly beneath them, and these in turn by a fourth, if the frost continues so long; and so on, the columns advance, from day to day, by a fresh addition to the base each night, as long as the frost continues. But the advance of these columns, should the frost continue with equal intensity for any number of days, is by no means alike in equal times : the push of the first night's frost is always much greater than those of any succeeding night ; the second exceeds the third; and so on they go, gradually diminishing in height; and the rings of earth, which mark the joints, become of course nearer to each other, till at length, if the frost continue long enough, these rings of earth be- come so close upon each other, as not to allow the crystalline appearance of the water to be perceptible at all; the base of the columns in this case afsuming the appearance of a compact earthy matter, firmly frozen. Here is given a pretty exact repre- sentation of several clusters of these columns, with some patches of earth at top, which have been pushed up by the columns underneath, and thus raised to a great height above the natural surface of the soil. In consequence of this configuration, it invariably happens, that when any person walks over a field of this kind of soil thus circumstanced, he finds that the columns, unable to support his weight, give way un- der his foot with a crash, and it sinks of course, so as to leave hollow marks of his feet, somewhat of the same sort as if it had been in snow, which are more or Phenomena of Frost. 21 lefs deep, in proportion to the greater or smaller height that the columns had attained. A second consequence is, that if any tap-rooted plants, such as carrots, broad clover, or others of a similar nature, should chance to be growing in the soil, it generally happens that the frozen earth adheres to the crown of the plant, from which the leaves push out; and the columns underneath that solid earth, all round the root, pushing forward, force the root upwards with such a power, as either to break the small fibres by which it adhered to the soil, or to snap the tap root itself asunder, raising the crown of the root to a great height above the level it formerly occupied. When the thaw at last comes, the watery columns difsolve, and the mould that these had elevated out of its place sinks down, leaving the top of the root without any support, which falls down upon the sur- face of the earth, in a great measure uncovered, as if it had been pulled up by the hand, and thrown down to perish. When plants are thus destroyed, they are said, in the homely language of the farmer, to be spued out of the ground a disease to \vhich soils of this nature are so much subjected, as to render it in- expedient to cultivate perennial tap-rooted plants upon them. If the surface of such soils be covered with a matted coat of fibrous-rooted grafses, the effects are different. In consequence of the strong matting of roots, the columns lift up the whole surface of the grafs without breaking it, so as to form a vacancy be- tween the soil and the sward. When these columns difsolve, the whole sward subsides into its former place; and the earth, which had been entangled in the co- 22 Phenomena of Frost. lumns, being very minutely divided, affords a fine bed for the roots to strike in ; so that, if the sward be prefsed down by a gentle rolling, it sustains, perhaps, no damage. If you try to, lift up some of this turf immediately after frost, it rises with as great ease nearly as if it had been separated from the bottom by means of a paring spade. I have described this singular configuration of the crystals of water thus particularly, not only because it appears to me very beautiful in itself, but also because it explains some phenomena of importance in agricul- ture, which, to many, appear to be very inexplicable. I must warn the reader, however, once more to take notice, that these kinds of crystals are only to be found in light, open, spungy soils, those especially approach- ing to the nature of bog, or peat earth. In other soils the crystals of water afsume an appearance extremely different from the above. In pure compact clay in particular, I have never been able to perceive the smallest approximation to a columnar crystallization. In such a soil the water forms small detached crystals interspersed through the whole mafs in such great number as to make the internal fracture, when a frozen clod is forcibly broken, afsume a hoary-like appear- ance. These crystals are so small as not to be dis- tinctly perceptible individually by the naked eye, but to me they appeared to be of a cubical form, and per- fectly transparent. In consequence of the expansion occasioned by the formation of these crystals, clay of this sort [I have seen many clays that were not thus aflcctcd], after frost, is found to be so minutely divided Phenomena of Frost. 23 as to fall down into a small powdery state, exactly re- sembling that which quicklime afsumes immediately after it has been slacked. It is in general believed that the conversion of water into ice depends entirely upon the degree of cold to which it has been exposed; and that, of course, the ef- fect which frost produces on moist bodies can only be obviated by preserving them in a degree of heat that never falls below that indicated by the freezing point on the thermometer. But certain facts have been ob- served which seem to indicate that the congelation of water may, under certain circumstances, be prevented from taking place, though the cold, indicated by the thermometer, be below the freezing point; and that some moist bodies may be preserved from being frost- bitten by particular contrivances, which do not prevent them from being exposed to a degree of cold greatly below the freezing point. It has been often remarked, that when water has been so placed as to be free from any degree of agitation, it hath remained fluid when the thermometer had fallen several degrees below the freezing point; but that under these circumstances it was immediately frozen, as soon as any degree of motion was communicated to it. In like manner it is well known, that if straw, or small twigs of any sort be lightly strewed upon the sur- face of the ground, it has a much more powerful ten- dency to guard plants beneath it from the effects of frost than any kind of solid covering, that by excluding accefs to the air, would seem to be much better fitted to screen it from cold than such light loose covering. It deserves to be remarked also, that the earth at the hot- 24 Phenomena of Frost. torn between the icy columns above described, though exposed to the free action of the air, is in no case that I have observed ever frozen. In both these cases, however, the evidence that the cold has descended below the freezing point without producing ice is only pre- sumptive ; for I have never heard that it hath been sub- jected to the test of experiment; so that the fact is, in this instance, still doubtful. The following fact, Wbw- ever, having a similar tendency, though it seems to be. very little known in Britain, appears to be established on good authority. In North America, where apples abound, and where the frosts in winter are extremely intense, it is well known that apples, if left unprotected, are inevitably destroyed by the first frost that happens; and as apples are a necefsary article in every family, great care is taken every where to protect them from frost in the beginning of winter. This is there invariably done by a contrivance which, though it prevents the effects of frost, cannot pofsibly exclude the cold in those regions. Apples are generally kept there in a small apartment, appropriated for that purpose on the high- est floor of the house, immediately beneath the roof; and in which no fire is ever, lighted. It is, therefore, more exposed to the cold than any other part of the building: but it is well known that water is often frozen in their warmest bedchambers; yet it is found, by invariable experience, that if a thin linen cloth be thrown over the apples before the frost commence*, the fruit under it is never injured, however intense the frost may have been. Of the undoubted certainty of this fact, I have been alsurcd, by every person with Phenomena of Frost. 25 whom I have conversed, who hath resided several years in America ; and they all exprefsed a considerable de- gree of surprise that it should be considered as in the least surprising to us; for it is a thing with which all there are well acquainted. I was also lately afsnred by a gentleman here, a native of Prufsia, that it is equally well known there; and that throughout the whole of Germany the same method of preserving their fruit is universally practised. It was added, -that linen only is used for this purpose, as a covering of woollen cloth was not found to prove effectual. If this fact be so, which, from the evidence produced to me, I can have no reason to doubt, though I have never experi- enced it myself, it proves incontestibly that frost is not a necefsary consequence of an increased degree of cold only; and that its effects may be guarded against even where cold cannot be excluded. This opens a wide field for investigation and experiment, from which many useful consequences may be derived to society. I have not been able to learn whether potatoes can be screen- ed from frost by this slight covering; but it would be a valuable discovery if it should be found to be so. With a view still farther to elucidate this interesting: O subject, I shall beg leave to mention one other fact, which was stated to be undeniable in a respectable publication some years ago. In the memoirs of the Royal Society of Agriculture in Paris for the year 1790 or 1791, an account is given of a discovery that was made of a way to prevent the blofsom of fruit trees from being damaged by early spring frosts; and the result of several experiments is there given, from which it was inferred that frost, like 26 Phenomena of Frost. electricity, might be drawn off from the atmosphere, and its baneful influence be thus guarded against, though the degree of cold was not thereby sensibly diminished. It was there said, that, if a rope [a hempen one, I pre- sume] be intermixed among the branches of a fruit tree in blofsom, and the end of it brought down so as to terminate in a bucket of water, and should a slight frost take place in the night time, in that case the tree will not be affected by the frost; but a film of ice of considerable thicknefs will be formed on the surface of the bucket in which the rope's end is immersed, al- though it often happened that another bucket of water, placed beside it for the sake of the experiment, had no ice at all upon it. I do not afsert this to be a fact, having had no opportunity of trying the experiment since this, statement came to my knowledge, and I confefs that the probability seems to be against it; yet, recollecting the still stronger probability there was against giving credit to facts respecting electricity when they were first discovered, though their truth be now established beyond the pofsibility of doubt, I should think it a presumption very unbecoming a philosophical inquirer to reject them without having submitted them Phenomena of Frost. 27 to the test of fair and accurate experiment. I beg leave, therefore, to recommend this as a proper object of experiment to such of my readers as have a taste for such inquiries, and an opportunity of doing it; and I shall be glad to have an opportunity of communicating to the public the result of such experiments. It is certain that our knowledge of the powers of nature, though it hath been of late much extended, is still ex- ceedingly imperfect; and that there are many pheno- mena which we pretend to explain, though in a very unsatisfactory manner, seemingly in the same way as our forefathers did the phenomena of electricity, with- out having any idea of the influence of that powerful agent. It has long been remarked by persons in the country, that frost draws the moisture to the surface of the earth, where, being exposed to the sun and air, it is soon evaporated. In this way they invariably be- lieve that frequent frosts, occurring in the months of March or April, during the night, and thaws during the day-time, as is very common at that season of the year, have a powerful effect in drying the ground, and preparing it for receiving the seed. Whether this fact be admitted by philosophers, who frequently deny the existence of phenomena which they are not able to ac- count for, I cannot say; but the icy columns above de- scribed, afford the clearest demonstration that water is attracted upwards from the earth by frost, though we are as yet, so far as I know, ignorant of the power by the influence of which that attraction is effected. We are equally ignorant, indeed, of the way in which the attraction of gravitation, cohesion, magnetism, 28 Phenomena of Frost. electricity, or capillary tubes, are produced. It is enough that we know the manner in which they in- fluence different bodies that arc brought within their several spheres, to enable us to make use of them as agents to effect our purposes. To what depth the power of this hitherto unobserved kind of attraction extends, or to what other uses than that above specified it may be applied, we know not. Its influence in mellowing the soil, and reducing it to a fine powdery consistence peculiarly fitted for the reception of small seeds, is sufficiently obvious from what hath been before said. It would be endlefs to specify all the other forms that icy crystallizations afsume. I shall only mention one more uncommon phenomenon of this kind, which occurred one morning last winter, when it was ob- served that all the twigs of trees were incrusted, as with hoar frost: but in this case the frost afsumed a pure transparency, instead of its usual opaque appear- ance, which was singularly beautiful. Below is a natural representation of a flake of snow. ( 29 ) Luculratlons of Timothy Hairbrain. The Editor begs leave to inform his readers, that this correspondent, who usually gives to his Efsays die name of Lucubrations, was a frequent contributor to The Bee, a literary miscellany that was some years ago published by him at Edinburgh. These efsays were all, in some degree, characterised by a kind of wild irregularity and peculiarity (perhaps an affected pe- culiarity) of manner, which some may dislike ; but, as the matter was unexceptionable, it was judged proper to overlook that trivial circumstance, as by so doing the Editor seemed to give general satisfaction to his readers. He has chosen to observe the same conduct on the present occasion. To the Editor of Recreations in Literature, &c. GOOD Mr. Editor, why have you afsumed such an unmanageable title to your performance? The Bee was a short, convenient word ; but your long title tires a person to write it, and will tire one yet more to read it, if it shall be often repeated. But this only by the by. The intention of my writing at present is to ex- prefs the pleasure I take in seeing you resume once more your editorial functions, whatever name you shall be pleased to afsume. Since you quitted that character, I have suffered a long and tedious state of 30 Hairbrain. languor, which put me in mind of that kind of half- existence that the feathered tribe undergo during the period of moulting; which, in my conscience, I be- lieve has been originally called mute -ing, because they all then become mute. I also have been dumb from that period; in consequence of which I have been in such a listlefs, milk and water state, that existence scarcely seemed to deserve the name of life. This, at last, became so intolerable to me, that I determined, at all events, to get out of it; and, with that view, resolved to take a ramble through the country, " to see what I could see." But, as you know, my pockets are seldom well lined, and not having it in my power to bring my circumstances to my mind, I prudently resolved to bring my mind to my circumstances ; so, finding that I neither could afford to hire a carriage nor a horse, I determined to make use of my own limbs for the purpose of change of place. This was scarcely sooner resolved upon than put in practice. A few shirts and other nectfsaries were soon packed up, and oft" I set. In consequence of this pedestrian mo- tion, as the great Dr. Johnson would have called it, my lungs soon began to play more freely; and I quickly experienced an exhilaration of spirits to which I had for some years past been a stranger. Objects now struck me forcibly : many of these made such an imprefsion on my pericranium, that I felt as if sur- charged with matter; and was casting about in my own mind how I could best discharge myself of this burthen, by communicating it to the public in a pro- per manner, when your prospectus was put into my hand. Now, said I to dame fortune, though you have Welch Mountains. 31 played me many a scurvy trick, you have, for once, befriended me; for which favour, as in duty bound, I shall never in future speak of thee with so much dis- respect as I sometimes have done in times past. As to yourself, Mr. Editor, I have so often experienced your indulgence on my account, that I cannot enter- tain a doubt of experiencing it again, if it be not my own fault. And as my finances are rather low at pre- sent, I shall hope to participate of your usual kindnefs, through the channel indicated in the margin; and will hope that this may come in time to find a place in the first number of your work. It has been written in haste; but if the circumstances it enumerates shall appear to you as curious as they did to me, I shall hope they will prove interesting to most of your read- ers. Without further preface, then, I refer you to the paper inclosed. I at length approached the mountains of Wales, which I had seen for some days past from a distance; but was not yet immersed among those precipitous cliffs which I afterwards saw. The region that I now tra- versed was diversified by many gentle undulations and beautiful swells, which gave a softened breadth of light and shade to the landscape, that was highly pleasing to me. Though these swells frequently interrupted the view, this served only to shift the scene, by introduc- ing another prospect in the space of a few minutes, that was totally different from the former, which kept the imagination continually at work, by anticipating what was to follow. Amused in this manner, I saun- 32 The Recluse. tered slowly along, so that the evening closed in be- fore I reached the village where I had been directed to take up my lodging for that night; but the evening being fine, I pursued the road, and arrived at the ale- house, which stood in the place of an inn, about an hour after dark. I took my place, as usual, among the people who chanced to be there, and, after the customary exchange of civilities, called for a pot of beer and a pipe, by which means I was freed from the trouble of speaking, unlefs when I pleased, and at li- berty to listen to the conversation of others, without giving offence. This was the way in which I picked up much curious information during the course of my journey ; for my appearance is that of a plain man, without any symptoms of that kind of sly cunning which instinctively puts mankind on their guard. I BOOH found that the whole conversation turned upon a man of an extraordinary character, who had lived, for fifteen years together, in an old castle that is hard by the village, in such a retired way, as not to have been visited during all that time by any one of the villagers; so that it was supposed he had committed some horrid murder, or other atrocious crime, which wounded his conscience, and made him shun the sight of men, and bury himself, as it were, while alive. This opinion prevailing universally, the good people had long enter- tained such a horror for the castle, and its unknown inhabitant, that no person ever went near its walls, when it was pofsible to avoid it. But, to the great surprise of every one in the village, it had been disco- vered, that, instead of being a murderer, or other atrocious offender, the man of the castle was a gentle- The Recluse. 33 man of great worth, who had unfortunately been de- prived, by a sudden dispensation of Providence, of a beloved wife, and, as he thought, two lovely babes, their only offspring. The news of this distrefsing event having been rashly communicated to him while he was a prisoner in India, and yet lying dangerously ill of a severe wound in the head, that he had received in battle, where he had been left for dead, had the ef- fect of throwing him into a state of mental derangement, which, after a long time, only slowly and imperfectly gave way to a settled melancholy, that made him wish to shun society. He had been carried off the field of battle, and taken care of ever afterwards, by a faithful servant, who, having had him conveyed home, had found out this retirement, and, by the afsistance of the curate of the parish, been enabled to manage his affairs so as to prevent his solitude from being broken in upon by any one. It had been discovered, how- ever, by a very unexpected accident, only a short time before my arrival, that his two children (a boy and girl) were still alive : that, from the regimental returns, no doubt had been entertained of his death : that they had been carried away from their native place, and educated in a distant part of the country as friendlefs orphans: that they had profited by the school of adversity, and had both, by their propriety of con- duct, so far recommended themselves to those who were about them, as to be beloved and befriended by all who knew them : that the girl had been lately married to a deserving young man in the neighbourhood; and that the father had been induced, on this occasion, to leave his retreat for a few days. VOL. I. C 34 Crctte de Palluel. A tale so strange could not fail to make a deep im- prefsion upon all the villagers. I conceived it at first to be an idle story; but found, upon examination, that the circumstances were not impofsible, as I at first conceived them to be; and as I learnt that the old ser- vant was still in the castle, I resolved to call on him next morning, to satisfy myself more fully as to all the particulars ; but of this I said nothing at the time. I expected to derive much curious information from a person thus circumstanced; nor was I disappointed. [To be continued.'] To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. SIR, I hope the following notices of a useful mem- ber of society, lately deceased, will not be deemed fo- reign to the plan of your work. It is extracted, not translated, from a French journal, and considerably abridged. As a friend to agriculture, and a well-wisher to the succefs of your proposed publication, I transmit it to you, and shall be glad if you deem it worthy a place. N. Some Account of the celebrated Agriculturist, Crette de Palluel. FRANCOIS CRETTE DE PALLUEL was descend- ed of a family for many generations devoted to agricul- tural pursuits. He employed his youth in afsisting his father in rural labours. Neither the opulence of his family; the contempt in which husbandmen were Crette de Palluel. 35 held in France under the old government; the example of fanners sons, who ran to Paris to conceal the trade and the condition of their fathers; nor even the habits acquired when he resided in the capital for his educa- tion, were able to divert young Crette from the rank and occupation for which he was designed. At the age of sixteen he had so completely gained the confidence of his father, that he was intrusted with the entire management of a most important agricul- tural establishment. The early weight of so great a concern made him insensibly contract a serious and reflecting turn of mind. He had, however, a feeling heart; and his conduct at all times was that of a just, mild, and benevolent man. He chose his wife from an ancient family of farmers: she made him happy, and brought him three children. Crette cultivated his fields with equal activity and skill : he was distinguished among the farmers of the province, when the Intendant of Paris named him one of the first to compose the Royal Society of Agricul- ture. The formation of this Society, which was filled with enlightened men and rich landholders, and whose members were all animated with the same spirit of zeal, made the employment of a farmer still more agreeable to him. He rejoiced to see justice at length done to the first of arts; to see it esteemed and ho- noured, to see himself afsociated with men whom the monarchical constitution had created dukes and peers, or invested with eminent dignities; to see, instead of ideas of precedence, all ranks and conditions unite in a common ardour for the prosperity of agriculture; c 2 36 Crette de Pallutl. to see the entrance of the Farmer of Dugni into the afsembly, produce a greater sensation than the appear- ance of a lefs informed nobleman. Crette was fully deserving of the good opinion form- ed of him his estate became the constant scene of experiments. A variety of memoirs attested at once his zeal and his abilities. He was, in a word, the Executive Director of the Agricultural Society. Vanity did not induce him to boast of his labours; but he had always great pleasure in making public the result of his experiments. His Efsay upon Draining ought not to be pafsed over in silence; a work ex- tremely worthy of public notice, from its utility in every marshy country. He has left behind him seve- ral tracts, particularly upon artificial meadows the dung of cattle, and on some useful improvements in utensils of husbandry, which are speedily to be pub- lished. Fame has highly celebrated the late James Gouyer of Uster in Switzerland, better known under the name of Kliyoogg, who has received from his fellow citi- zens and some Agricolists, the surname of the Rustic Socrates; and Arthur Young, the English improver of the present day. But what have they done more than the Fanner of Dugni, scarcely known to his countrymen? Who can shew greater skill and ma- nagement in the rotation of crops to do away and supprefs the system of fallowing? Who can shew more skill in the distribution of farm buildings? His sheep-fold is a pattern both as to its construction and for salubrity. What farmer in France, or elsewhere, can better form artificial meadows ? Crette de Pal it/ el. 37 Kliyoogg has been admired for his domestic eco- nomy, his worth, and his great skill Crette was nowise inferior in any of these qualities Young is highly celebrated. There appears, indeed, this differ- ence between the state of agriculture in England and in France. The English have written much and well upon the subject the French have reduced their theo- ries to practice. Crette, a friend of the revolution, was named a deputy to the legislative afsembly, an administrator of the department of Paris, a justice of the peace of the department of Pierretite; he was also a member of the new agricultural society of the Seine; and he, in every function, displayed the zeal and enlightened under- standing of a good citizen. In August last he lost, in the small-pox, a beloved daughter, a pattern of virtue and filial piety. This dreadful blow put an end to his enjoyments. A deep melancholy overwhelmed him ; a slow fever succeeded ; and, under these afflictions of mind and body, he gradually sunk, and terminated a useful life on the twenty-ninth of November 1798, aged fifty-seven. In him society has lost a useful citizen, agriculture a zea- lous improver, and his family a necefsary protector. The Editor returns thanks for this communication, which he readily inserts, as it conveys some information concerning a very worthy member of society, though it will be impofsible for those farmers in Britain who have become acquainted with the state of agriculture in France from the memoirs of that very society of which Crette de Palluel was the executive director, not 38 Julia to her Friend. to smile at the pompous terms made use of, particularly when he says, " The English have written much and " well upon the subject the French have reduced " their theories to practice." It is very obvious from the publication just alluded to, that the French are at least half a century behind the English in the practice of Agriculture. Julia to her Friend in London. I A M told, my dear friend, that I am become the object of pity to some of my acquaintance; and that they consider my state of exile from the amuse- ments of town a misfortune which admits of no con- solation : yet heavier calamities have been borne with patience ; and had they allowed me any share of forti- tude, they would have supposed me by this time re- signed, at least, to my lot. But though they, it seems, are uneasy about me, let me afsure you I am not only resigned, but happy : yet this contentment is the re- sult of no virtue; for it costs me little to abandon pleasures which, when in London, I seldom shared. While the mind is engaged in any ardent pursuit, we are seldom interested about the place of our abode, if we have opportunities of continuing our favourite stu- dies, and are not torn from our dearest connections : ab- sorbed in what delights us, we find immediate plea- sure; and while the heart is thus interested, every other amusement appears frivolous. Thus occupied, I forget there is such a place as London, or only re- Julia to her Friend. 39 member it as the abode of a few friends whom I esteem. But do not think it is my library which af- fords my mind this employment: the converse of the dead is not to be compared with the conversation of the living. We read an author with delight; but our sen- sibility does not pafs into his soul : we cannot state to him our objections, nor make him defend his opinion, should it appear to us irrational. But I have been pe- rusing a few pages of a book too large to be contained in a library : it is open every where, and to every one ; and those who only gather from it a few truths, seem to me better instructed than the pompous pedant, OF the mere town philosopher. For me, when I forget the darling theme, Whether the blofsom blows, the summer ray Rufsets the plain, inspiring autumn gleams, Or winter rises in the blackening east, Be my tongue mute, may fancy paint no more. And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat ! THOMSON. To imitate nature is the noblest attainment of ge- nius, and the study of her varieties the highest source of amusement. No man can be solitary, to whom she unfolds her beauties. A thousand new ideas break upon his mind; and though the mafs be dumb, she breathes throughout a general intelligence^ and speaks to the heart. Since I have entered into the study of natural history, every thing is become interesting to me : my book? are truly useful; and I feel and under- stand better the sublimer works of the poets. Good fortune has thrown in my way a person capable of di- 40 Julia to her Friend. reeling me ; and I see before me a boundlefs variety, which will be a source of entertainment to me as long as I live. I feel as if I had just recovered from blind- nefs, and as if all my senses had acquired a fresh de- gree of sensibility. Yet this taste for natural history is not the whim of the moment; habits of reflection na- turally led me to it: but I have lately had more lef- sure and opportunity to analyze what before filled me with perplexity and wonder. Early in life the general mutability of things made a melancholy imprefsion on my mind. While weeping with childish sorrow the decay of some beautiful flowers, I met a friend so altered by sicknefs, that I scarcely knew her; she had lost a sister. It may not be difficult to conceive the emotions of a young mind just awakened to the survey of surrounding dissolution : De se stefse invaghita e del suo bello Si speech! ava la rosa In un limpido, e rapido rascelloj Quando d' ogni sua foglia Un aura impetuosa La bella rosa spoglia Cascar nel rio le spoglej il rio fuggendo Se le porta correndo E cosi la belta Rapidifsemente O dio sen va ! FK. DE LEONENE. These reflections awoke in my mind a painful cu- riosity. I saw with wonder the unexhausted earth perpetually teeming with fresh life, and every thing succefsively falling to decay. I observed the progrefs of the germ, the various changes of the insect tribe, Julia to her Friend. ' 41 and the succefsion of the seasons. Every new disco- very gave rise to further curiosity. While I considered the works of the Deity, my heart glowed with warmer gratitude, and my confidence increased : I seemed to draw nearer to him, and to participate more largely of his bounties : But wondering oft, with brute unconscious gaze, Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres j Works in the silent deep; shoots teeming thence The fair profusion that o'erspreads the spring ; Flings from the sun direct the flaming day; Feeds every creature, hurls the tempest forth ; And, as on earth this grateful change revolves, With transport touches all the springs of life. THOMSON. General views of nature give rise to sentiment; but it is the detail alone which enchants us, and contri- butes to our amusement : and it is the attention which this wonderful variety has excited, that has awaken- ed those pleasing sensations, which almost seem to invigorate me with new life, and make me feel how efsential it is to happinefs to be in pofsefsion of some innocent recreation, that may agreeably fill the voids of life. Many people laugh at the enthusiasm which my friend discovers for this study, and question its utility. For my part, I cannot help considering a doubt on this subject as a proof of the greatest ignorance. From the remotest antiquity it has been the study of the wise; and the progrefs of physics hath ever been in proportion to the state of civilization in a country. The navigator, the husbandman, and the mechanic, are 42 Julia to her Friend. equally indebted to the natural philosopher, and are ever receiving fresh instructions from him. Every conveniency and luxury we pofsefs has been improved by his superior knowledge. In a moral point of view, we may perceive that it tends to save us from what is frivolous and vicious, by purifying the taste, and softening the heart. It does more: it exalts the mind, and gives it objects worthy of its contemplation. It chastens the poet's raptures, and gives truth to his images. Nay, it is the materials of which poetry is composed. The poet seizes the finest and grandest features of nature, and breathes through them his own peculiar spirit. But if that fire, which should only animate, deludes the author, and makes him neglect the truth of the picture he is drawing, his productions will only please himself; he may feel them strongly, yet others will not comprehend them. But fully to enjoy, to understand, and to acquire the power of com- municating our pleasures by description, is the effect of study; and those who are ambitious of partaking of this enjoyment and knowledge, will never bury them- selves in the center of a city. Whatever they studv, must be considered in every point of view : for this purpose they will often change their habitation ; now observing animated, then inanimated nature; till, be- coming sensible of the immensity of the works of the Deity, they glow with the warmest gratitude, and feel themselves furnished with the means of becoming more extensively useful to their fellow creatures. JULJA. \A continuance of this correspondence it requested.'} ( 43 ) To Correspondents. SINCE the prospectus of this work was circulated, the Editor has received many letters from correspond- ents, among which are no lefs than three, Philo, Z y, and A Friend, all of whom exprefs an oblig- ing concern for the succefs of this work, of which they entertain doubts chiefly on account of its being di- vided into parts, and separately paged. The same idea having struck all these three persons at the same time, seems to indicate that it may also have oc- curred to others. It, therefore, behoves me here to state the reasons which particularly induced me to adopt that arrangement, of the validity of which each person will judge for himself. A great many years ago a periodical work was pub- lished by Mr. Benjamin Martin in Fleet-street, Lon- don, entitled The Magazine of Arts and Sciences, philosophical, philological, mathematical, and me- chanical. It consisted of four departments that were separately paged, three of them in each number, con- taining each eight pages only, or half a sheet of let- ter-prefs. This was a respectable and succefsful work, and still forms a book of repute in the shops. I was a boy at the time of its publication, and took it in nor did I perhaps ever derive so much information from any other book as from this one, which I ascribe entirely to the mode in which it was published. Eager as I was at that time for information, I waited each month for the day of its arrival with the utmost impa- tience, and perused it with extreme avidity. When I was stopped where each part broke oft' I was indeed 44 To Correspondents. greatly disappointed; and there can be no doubt, that if the whole book had been before me, I should have run it all over so rapidly as to have lost many particu- lars entirely, and have only recollected a few of ihr* most glaring pafsages which chiefly attracted attention at the moment; and even these few pafsages would have made such a faint imprefsion, and have been so much jumbled together with others, that they would have conveyed only indistinct notions, which would soon have been effaced. What would have happened to myself on that occasion, I have often observed, takes place in regard to most young persons. When they have many books in their power, and are in no way- limited in their choice, they acquire a desultory habit of skimming over books rather than reading them. They become tired of the place they are at; and, impatient to get forward, they turn over the leaves to sec what else the book con tains ; and never can fix their minds so as to read with attention. To this cause, in a great measure, I am inclined to attribute that habit of super- ficial reasoning, and that imperfect knowledge of things which so generally prevails in the world. Instead of proceeding forward in this rapid career, I found myself stopped short from neceisity, and being thus in some measure compelled to ruminate upon what I had read, I became thoroughly acquainted with what had been communicated, before I received a fresh meal. It is to this circumstance entirely that I ascribe the benefit I derived from that book; for I have doubt- lefs read other books of equal or greater merit, with k-fs profit. One other benefit resulted from this ar- rangement, which ought not to be overlooked. If the To Correspondents. 45 information it contained had been communicated in a volume that could have been read without interruption, one of two consequences must have resulted from it : if that volume had afforded pleasure, it might have broken in upon that time which ought to have been appropriated to other pursuits, and thus have proved very detrimental. In this way many young persons of both sexes are unawares drawn into a habit of neg- lecting their private affairs, and acquire a fondnefs for idling away their time in reading what is extremely pernicious: or, if the person were so sober minded as to consider businefs as the principal concern of life, the size of the volume would deter such a person from ever looking into it at all, and it would have afforded him no sort of information : but in the way that work was published it could produce neither of these effects. The keen inquirer was checked in his too rapid career, and the shy reader was invited to glance over a few pages with a view to pafs away the time in a vacant quarter of an hour; and, if during that time any agreeable information was conveyed, he was in- vited to look into the same work whenever he was un- occupied at a future period. From these considerations, this mode of publication appeared to be better calcu- lated than any other that I could have adopted, to ef- fect the purpose I had in view, which was, to con- vey information to persons who are not of a profefsed studious turn, without deranging in any way the com- mon businefs of life. And, as no complaints were heard against Mr. Martin's plan at the time, I am inclined to believe that this mode of publication was not generally accounted a defect. 46 To Correspondents. Philosophos writes a long letter, remonstrating against the determination exprefsed, as he thinks, in the prospectus, not to admit any political discufsions into this \vork ; and adduces many reasons, suffi- ciently valid, to induce me to depart from that resolu- tion. These arguments, however, in as far as regards myself, were perfectly unnecefeary; because no person can be more firmly convinced than I am, of the vast importance of the science of political economy, which is the. kind of politics he recommends. I must as- suredly have exprefsed myself inaccurately in the pro- spectus, to give any person occasion so far to mistake my meaning, as ever to suppose that I entertained an idea of banishing from this miscellany discufsions of that sort. It was mere party politics I meant to ex- clude, or that kind of wrangling which tends to exalt one body of men and deprefs another. Such kind of contests I have ever considered as highly degrading to the parties who keenly entered the lists, and pernicious to society; because it can tend only to pervert truth, and propagate error. Political economy, in the liberal sense of the word, or that science which is employed in appreciating the effect of civil institutions in pro- moting or retarding the prosperity of states, and the happinefs of mankind, I conceive to be the most sub- lime of all sciences. But if it be sublime, because of the magnitude and importance of the object aimed at, it is also the most difficult to attain, by reason of the infinite power of those secret (I had almost said in- scrutable) operations of the human mind, where affec- tions and interests, pafsions and prejudices, are called into action. Those only who have entered deeply To Correspondents. 4J into these discufsions, and who have thus had occa- sion to observe how often facts, respecting objects of this nature, contradict theories that seemed to be sup- ported by the clearest and the most accurate reasoning, can form an idea of its intricacies. To others it seems to be the easiest and the most simple of all sciences. This is the reason why we observe, that those who are best qualified tq enter upon such discufsions are stu- dious to shun them, and usually sit silent; while others, who have not advanced so far as to perceive the difficulties that lie in their way, engage upon these topics without hesitation, and run on with endlefs volubility upon all occasions, which greatly disturbs the peace of society, and tends to destroy that harmony that ought to prevail in every civilized state. Could any person, then, pofsefsing a mind sufficiently en- lightened as to be able so far to explain the principles of this science, as to convince the ignorant of the folly of entering upon such speculations, be prevailed on to do it, he would confer an inestimable favour on the community; and the Editor would think himself highly honoured, should he deem this miscellany a proper channel for conveying to the public such use- ful information. But let not this hint be deemed an invitation to those to come forward, who are accus- tomed to indulge in crude political rhapsodies ; for against all such the door shall be shut, as far as the judgment of the Editor may enable him to discriminate. Palemon desires to be informed whether this work is intended to consist entirely of original matter, or if articles will be occasionally admitted which have been published before. Let this gentleman be informed, that, as the object chiefly aimed at in this work is to 48 To Correspondents. inform, and thus to amuse the reader, the chief care of the Editor will be to effect these purposes in the shortest and the most direct manner in his power. And though it is certain, that he shall always be pro- vided with original matter more than sufficient to fill the whole of his pages, yet he should think that he ill performed his duty if he rejected a paper which per- fectly suited his purpose, merely because it had been before printed, in order to make room for an original composition of much inferior merit j for, as he does not write so much for conveying information to pro- fefscd readers, as to those in general whose avocations prevent them from perusing many books, it will often, happen, that things which are known to the literati may never have been heard of by the bulk of those for whom this miscellany is chiefly intended. For the same reason, he will not exert himself so much in search of new discoveries in science, as so to arrange subjects already known, as to make a strong impres- sion upon the mind, to stimulate attention, and lead to useful and interesting conclusions. Among his correspondents he will more value vivid ideas, and their necefsary attendant, a natural and forcible manner of writing, enlivened by the glow of warm perceptions, than deep and intricate discufsions, though these should never before have been thought of by any one. He despises alike the character of a profefsed connois- seur, a virtuoso, and a pedant; but he could cherish in his bosom those who have a feeling heart, enlight- ened by science, and warmed with philanthropy, when under the guidance of a chastened and refined taste. Farther Acknvwledgmcnti deferred for toant of room. RECREATIONS IK ARTS AND LITERATURE. 1st MAY 1799. Luculratlons of Timothy Hairbrain t The Recluse. [Continued from page 34.] I WAS up betimes, and reached the castle at the mo- ment the old servant opened the gate to let down the drawbridge; for the whole castle was surrounded by a moat, which had been kept in repair till this time by the respect that its owners bore for its antiquity. I accost- ed the servant politely, said I was a stranger, who had been attracted by the venerable appearance of the cas- tle, and asked if I could be permitted to take a nearer view of it; to which he civilly replied, that he was glad it was in his power at that time to comply with my re- quest; though it was a favour permitted to no per- son till very lately. This gave me an occasion to in- quire what was the reason of the alteration he hinted at, which afforded him an opportunity of corroborating VOL. I. d 50 The Recluse. the account I had heard at the village, with many other circumstances, into the particulars of which I must not enter at present. I shall only observe, that I felt myself deeply interested in the history of a worthy man of extreme sensibility, who had been so far overcome by the keen recollections of those pleasures of which he had been deprived, as to have his faculties over- powered by a melancholy gloom that made him loath the idea of any earthly enjoyment. At the same time I had occasion to admire the effects of the lenient hand of time, aided by the efforts of a faithful and judicious servant, in gradually alleviating a distrefs which at one time seemed to be wholly irremediable. In the course of this narrative, I was often reminded of the story of Robinson Crusoe; with this difference in fa- vour of our recluse, that the exertions in the first case were calculated chiefly to supply the physical wants of the body; and in the last, to restore the debilitated powers of the mind. The story was long, and inter- rupted by many episodes, which I shall not attempt to follow; all I can at this time properly do is to mention a few circumstances, which will naturally occur as I give you a cursory description of this place, and which may serve to convey some idea of the means that were found to have proved effectual in this case. When I entered the verge of this hallowed spot, for such it appeared to me, the ideas that had already floated in my mind were greatly heightened by the awful solemnity and wildnefs of the place. An avenue of large trees, through whose thickened foliage the mid-day sun could only produce a gloomy shade, led to the remains of a mafsy pile of buildings, which, The Recluse. 5 1 rom the magnitude of its parts, though now in ruins, rave a strong idea of aneient grandeur. On this side, lowever, some walls, which had been reared for con- reniency long after the era of the principal structure tself, served greatly to diminish its general effect. We entered at one corner of the building through a ow door into a vaulted pafsage of great length, which ,vas still entire, though the buildings above it were all n ruins. As we walked along this pafsage, the still- icfs of the place imprefsed my mind with a sensation somewhat approaching to horror, that I cannot de- icribe. All along one side, doors were perceived open- ng into vaults into which no ray of light ever pene- :rated. In the pafsage itself there was only so much ight as to enable us just to perceive our way. No sound was heard but the tread of our feet alone. My juide fortunately did not speak, or I should probably lave been startled at it, until we reached at length a small corner of the building, where a few chambers were still kept in repair, and which formed the habi- tation of its present owner. There was nothing here that demands your attention, so that I proceed to the garden, into which a door entered directly from these apartments ; as it was in this spot that the changes to which I have alluded were chiefly effected. On entering, the appearance of this garden was grand and imprefsive. It had been originally laid out upon the largest scale of baronial magnificence, but, having been long deserted by its princely owners, the trees had ac- quired a wild luxuriance of growth, and now afsumed a venerable gloom unlike to any thing I had ever before seen, which conveyed a strong idea of the wealth and d 2 52 The Recluse. power of its original owners. The objects that chiefly attracted the attention were of a larger size and more rugged appearance than any which I had ever observed in works of art. A large tower, which rose proudly eminent above the lefser ruins, drew the eye instinc- tively to that side. It projected a little more forward into the garden than the others. The lower part of this tower was still pretty entire, but towards the top it had been rifted asunder as if by a stroke of lightning, and many mafsy fragments had been tumbled to the ground. Through the gap thus formed the eye was -able to trace something like internal ornaments; but, on account of the depth of shade which then obscured them, this served only to give an awful imprefsion of something that the mind could not fully comprehend. Through the ivy which waved in gloomy wildnefs round the top of the tower, rose up to a considerable height a corner turret, which, by projecting more for- ward than the rest of the building, seemed to be in dan- ger of falling every moment. Beyond this tower, in a grove of tall beech trees, an immense number of rooks had taken up their abode. The nests, which had to all appearance remained for ages undisturbed by man, had at last become so thick as nearly to fill up all the cran- nies between the branches, so as, in a great measure, to exclude the light of the sun; and the busy birds continually flying about in all directions, by their in- cefsant cawing produced at a distance a deep sound, which served greatly to augment the solemnity of the scene. On the other side was seen a grove of spread- ing yew trees, which seemed to be of an age coeval with the oldest part of the castle itself. These, covered The Recluse. 53 vhh long mofs, had now afsumed a hoary magnificence hat gave them a most venerable aspect. A double ow of chesnut trees, which had originally formed an .venue leading to this sacred grove, but which, by the ntermingling of their wide-spreading branches, now, vhen viewed from the elevation on which we stood, ppeared but as one mafs, by the brilliancy of their oliage formed an enlivening contrast to the yew. The ,rea of the garden, which had originally separated these nafsy objects from each other, had to appearance been ince occupied as kitchen ground and orchard; but, laving been long neglected, had run wild, so as now o deserve the name of a wildernefs in the strictest ense of the word. Apple and pear trees, intermixed vith wild cherries, plums, and hazel copses, with haw- horns, hollies, and other shrubs, were blended in irre- gular mafses, sometimes conjoined together in the same rroup, and at other times separate, forming, in some :ases, small tufts, and in others running out to a con- iderable extent without any interruption ; and these vere grouped in such a manner as to divide the open- ngs of grafs ground among which they sprung up in iuch a way as to give this inchanting spot a great di- versity of appearance. From some points of view the awn seemed to be large and open ; from others, in consequence of a number of small groups closing in ipon each other, they appeared only as one mafs, brming a close wood that occupied the whole space. A.nd, as there arc not among them any artificial ob- jects to make you recognise the same place from what- sver point you saw it, it requires long experience to know the same spot from different .points of view; so 54 The Recluse. that you might wander over the whole place repeatedly for many days, and still think that you was proceeding forward to new scenes, though you had often returned nearly to the same spot. This irregular garden, per- haps, consisted of not more than five or six acres ex- tent; yet, in consequence of this inartificial arrange- ment, it might appear to a casual visitor to contain some hundreds of acres, affording an infinite succefsion of delightful objects. My guide, perceiving with what satisfaction I viewed this wild scenery, took an opportunity of congratulating himself on having discovered it. " Having often ob- served," he said, " when my master was in health, that he took much delight in scenes of this sort, I conjectured that if any thing could ever restore him to himself, it would be that of permitting him to indulge this natural propensity without interruption. After my poor master," continued he, " returned from India, in a state of dejection that rendered him incapable of conversing with any one, or at times of knowing even me; yet he had sometimes lucid intervals, in which he deigned to speak to me with his acccustomed kindnefs. In one of those intervals, he said to me, Thomas, could you not contrive to find out for me a retired spot in some remote corner of the country, in which I could indulge my taste for solitude without interruption. To you, he was pleased to say, I al- ready owe many obligations, and this will be an addi- tional one, of which you will not find that I shall be forgetful. I have now, you know, he continued, more money than I ever can have occasion for; I beg you then to look out for such a place, and at the same The Recluse. 55 time try if you can discover some honest man who has more knowledge of businefs than you have, to transact my worldly concerns, with all of which I desire that you shall he acquainted: but let me not be troubled about it. Do this, and you will confer the greatest pofsible obligation upon me. I bowed, retired, and wept in secret over the fallen state of such an honourable gentleman, resolving to do what I could to fulfil his wishes. From that time I carefully ex- amined the newspapers ; and soon after saw an adver- tisement offering this place to sale it seemed to suit our purpose I took an opportunity to mention it to my master, who ordered me to go and look at it; and, if I found it suitable, to purchase it at once without higgling at the terms. I came hither, found it, as I thought, more exactly suitable for us than any thing I could hope for; and, having seen the parson of the parish, and made some inquiries of him concerning it, he directed me to the agent, and kindly gave me every afsistance in his power. An old gendeman, he said, had been the last owner of it, who had lived there in a very retired manner by himself, with two servants only, for many years. He had fitted up a few apartments for his own accommodation, and made out a neat library, containing a small but well chosen collection of books. His time was chiefly spent in reading, and innocent recreation in his garden. This gentleman had died about three months before; and, as his heirs lived at a distance, they were desirous of selling the whole. He thought it would be very con- venient for my master to be freed of the trouble of furnishing a house to himself, and therefore advised 56 The Recluse. me to make a clear purchase of the whole as it stood, without entering into particulars : he afsisted me in giving a rough estimate of the value of the whole, and had the goodnefs to accompany me to the agent, who lived about twenty miles from hence. We soon con- cluded a provisional bargain, and I returned with a deed of sale in my pocket, which was executed and delivered, and the money paid in little more than a week from that date. In lefs than a week more we took pofsefsion of the premises, on which we have con- stantly resided ever since. The parson had also the goodnefs to transact, through the intervention of his own agent, all my master's money concerns; so that we were, in all respects, as happily circumstanced as could be imagined. " No sooner did we arrive here," continued the worthy Thomas, " than my master took pofsefsion of this wildernefs, in which he wandered for whole days together without returning, unlefs at the sound of the bell for meals, which I was ordered to ring half an hour before each meal-time. The first symptom of amend- ment that I discovered in him vsas his listening, with evident satisfaction, to the songs of the birds which here abound; but an incident that occurred about a week after we came hither opened to me another source of amusement for him that has proved of still greater utility. One day my master had laid himself down upon the grafs beneath a tree, listening as usual to the warbling of the birds above him, and insensi- bly dropped asleep. How long he had lain in that slumber he could not tell; but he was at last awaken- ed by something that softly touched his hand, which The Recluse. 57 was stretched out upon the grafs : he looked about to see what it was;- and, to his surprise, found that an afs was standing by him, looking down upon his counte- nance with that kind of stupid composure which cha- racterises that harmlefs creature. It had been snuffing at his hand, and awaked him. At first he was averse to move lest he should frighten it away; but he soon observed that, when it perceived him to be awake, it moved its ears, and gave appearance of satisfaction ra- ther than of fear. He immediately concluded it must be a tame beast; and, having risen up, it stretched out its neck to him till he stroked it. This kind of confidence in his benignity pleased him. He fondled it a little, which evidently pleased it ; and, when he was going away, it followed him at a distance for some time, and did not allow him to depart but with seem- ing regret. He called upon me; said Thomas, on this occasion, in a voice so unusual, that I was somewhat startled at it. He desired me to bring a bit of bread; which I had no sooner done than he hastily returned to the place where he had left the afs, who was there r standing still with great composure. I followed at some distance to see what he was to do with the bread. He presented it to the poor creature; who re- ceived it, and eat it readily. My master having ob- served me, said, in a pleasing kind of tone, You see, Thomas, I have found a companion who can be grate- ful without being capable of guile. I then came up, and, in my turn, stroked the poor beast. As it was now the hour of dinner, I told my master it was ready; so we left Cuddy, who followed us some paces farther; and, while I waited upon my master at dinner, he 58 The Recluse. told me how he had been introduced to this new ac- quaintance. " Before this period/' continued the faithful Tho- mas, " my master used to frequent a deep and shady walk, and scarcely ever set foot upon the grafs; but next day, when he went along, he looked out at every open- ing in the wood to discover his afs: nor was it long before he perceived it at a small distance brousing quietly upon some thistles that grew up in a neglected corner. He went towards it, and the poor creature no sooner saw him than it returned the compliment, by advancing gravely towards the place where he was: they soon met; he gently stroked its neck, and it gave tokens of satisfaction. They had not been long together, when my master heard a sound which he thought was the voice of some animal with which he was unacquainted; and soon after a beautiful creature broke from behind some bushes. It was a deer, the only companion of the afs in that wildernefs. It had mifsed its companion, and was in quest of it. No sooner did it perceive my master than it stopped short, and looked attentively at the two, the afs exprefsing its satisfaction by looking placidly towards it, and wag- ging its tail. My master was, in all probability, the most surprised of any of this group; for, though this unknown animal was evidently of the deer kind, it was one of a species he had never seen. It was much taller and more elegantly formed than the fallow deer. It had more the shape of a light well formed horse. Its body was full, its buttocks more round and more elegantly turned than those of a running horse, and its limbs much finer. Its eye was full and animated, The Recluse. 59 and it carried its fine head very high. Its horns were upwards of three feet in length, sending forth several large and branching antlers. Its colour a glofsy brown, lighter towards the belly, the under part of the head and tail. Its aspect was mild and somewhat timid; but it soon recovered courage, and came nearer as if to invite acquaintance, and in a little time it became equally tame with its companion. My master asked if I knew what sort of animal it was, but I could give him no information. I afterwards learnt from our friend the parson, that it was a male of the wild deer of Scotland, which is there called red deer (the Stagge of our forefathers the Cervus Elephus of Linnaeus). It had been caught there while a fawn, and tamed by a soldier while at Fort Augustus in Scotland; and had, some years ago, followed the regiment as a dog thus far, where it had been seen and fancied by the former owner of this place, who purchased it, and kept it as a great favourite till his death. It was, in truth, the most superb animal of the kind, and the most beautiful I had ever seen. " From this time forward my master took great delight in these two creatures, which he took care to feed every day with his own hand ; and they soon became so at- tached to him, that, as soon as he appeared, they came running towards him, and followed him, if he permit- ted them, wherever he went. " This kind of innocent intercourse," said Thomas, *' beguiled the time, and made it glide more smoothly forward than formerly : but still the deprefsion of my master's spirits were such as to make him seek soli- tude, and shun the intercourse with even these his CO The Recluse. dumb attendants, unlefs for a few short intervals each day. I knew he Tiad been always fond of soft music ; and, having discovered an Eolian harp in one of the apartments not much out of repair, I got some fresh strings and put it to rights; and, having found a win- dow that fitted it, which opened into a part of the garden where an arbour was near, I drefsed up the arbour, and repaired the seat; and, watching my op- portunity, I chose a fine clear day, with a gentle breeze stirring, to place it in the window: it produced the effect I intended; my master heard it at a distance, swelling at times as if a full chorus of spirits were singing solemn music in the air, and then dying away. It was some time before he discovered whence the sounds proceeded; but as he came nearer he heard them more distinctly, till he was impercep- tibly led to the arbour, where he seated himself, and there remained lost, in a kind of rapturous ecstasy, for many hours. This was' a discovery that I consi- dered of infinite importance, for I soon perceived that, whenever he was more than usually deprefsed, such was the power of these inchanting sounds, that they infallibly soothed his mind to peace. I therefore stu- died the means of availing myself of its aid; nor was it long before I discovered that, by closing certain paf- sages, and opening others, according to the points from whence the wind blew, and its force at the time, I acquired a power of regulating it almost at will. And so much hath my master now become attached to that seat, and the pleasure that he derives from the uninterrupted indulgence of those soothing ideas which this simple instrument excites is such, that I do not Calvin Philips. 61 believe it is pofsible to make him experience an equal degree of enjoyment in any other place on this globe. Thus may solitude acquire charms, which perhaps the most polished intercourse of social life could never be- stow." I am afraid, Mr. Editor, that I shall become tire- some to you or your readers should I proceed, without interruption, to tell you the various other devices that this worthy man adopted to soothe the mind of his master, and beguile it, as it were, from that melan- choly train of ideas which overpowered it; yet, sooth to say, the recital pleased me much; and I could have listened to him myself for a whole year without feel- ing the smallest symptoms of lafsitude. I shall here, however, break off for the present; but shall embrace the first opportunity that offers of concluding this nar- rative, which you shall be at liberty either to insert in some future number of your work, or supprefs, as you shall see cause. In the mean while, wishing you suc- cefs in your present undertaking, I remain, your ob- liged correspondent, TIMOTHY HAIRBRAIN. Some Account of Calvin Philips, the American Dwarf, [From an American publication.] A REMARKABLE dwarf has lately been exhibited at New York. At the age of eight his height was twenty-six inches and a half, and his weight twelve pounds, including his clothes. 62 Calvin Philips. This phenomenon was born at Bridgewater, in the state of Mafsachusetts, on the 14th of January 1791. His father, who is about the middle size, was twenty- four years of age when the child was born; and his mother, rather above the ordinary size, was twenty- six, both sound and healthy. They have had five other children, two before, and three since the birth of the dwarf, all of them healthy* and of the usual size. All the circumstances of gestation and partu- rition in the case of this dwarf were natural : he was so small at his birth as scarcely to weigh two pounds; his thigh was not thicker than a man's thumb, and all the other parts of his body were in proportion. His mother, who is a poor woman, used to carry him in her bosom while she was spinning. Notwithstanding his diminutivenefs, this child was extremely healthy, had a good appetite, was exempt from all the diseases of infancy, except the hooping- cough, which was very favourable, and some trouble from worms: he was weaned at seven months, began to creep at nine months, and to walk at eighteen months, hut he did not begin to speak till' he was four years of age. He got his first teeth at ten or eleven months without pain or difficulty, and has since had the com- mon number, two of which are already shed. From his birth, till two years old, he grew very slowly, afterwards more perceptibly till five, and since that period has altogether ceased to grow, which is ascertained both by his weight, and by the size of his clothes worn three years ago. Since he was weaned he has always been fed upon the common articles of diet given to children; he eats Calvin Philips. 63 moderately but sufficiently, and is particularly fond of fruits and cyder, but has never drunk any distilled liquor. He sleeps in an easy and natural manner, generally goes to bed about seven o'clock, and reposes till four or five in the morning, but never sleeps in the day-time. He is active, playful, sprightly, and very irascible, and is commonly occupied in the sports of children, to which he is devoted in a remarkable de- gree. On inspection of his body undrefsed, no deformity or deficiency appears ; on the contrary, he is every way formed with the greatest symmetry. His figure displays a pleasing and elegant proportion, and his face, though thin and long, is made of regular and agreeable fea- tures, corresponding to his age rather than size, and indicating a degree of maturity, in point of evolution, much beyond his years. His complexion and hair are light, his eyes blue, and his general aspect is delicate. The palms of his hands and soles of his feet have ac- quired much of the hardnefs, and the former are a good deal marked with the lines belonging to maturer age. His voice is shrill and lefs articulate than is common at his period of life. He is rather reserved to strangers, much displeased with the inspection of visiters, and already appears to shew some signs of sexual propensity. His mental attainments appear to fall rather short of the ordinary standard at his age: he has only learned a few letters of the alphabet; but his situation, in a variety of respects, has been unfavourable to improve- ment, and it is to be wished that proper attention may be paid to the cultivation of his understanding, (J4 Choonaam. in order to ascertain the comparative powers of his mind. In his travels, as a public spectacle, this dwarf is under the charge of his maternal grandfather and grandmother. The former is a large and robust man aged fifty-six, and the latter is about the middle size and aged fifty-four. They are both in good health, and have been so generally throughout their lives. They say that the boy never suffered any injury by blows, falls, or other accidents, whether before or after his birth, and that they are unacquainted with any cause to which his diminutive size may be ascribed. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. , Harley Street, London, April 5th, 1799. MR. EDITOR, YOUR entertaining and useful work I have perused with much pleasure and profit; accept, sir, my sincere wishes for its succefs : may you reap- as memorable a harvest in the extensive field of lite- rature as the liberality of the season can afford, and your labours shall merit. The account of the Ckunam (or, as called by the na- tives, Choonaam) transmitted by Dr. Anderson (whose spirit of inquiry is truly laudable) I find very correct and faithful. Upon my arrival in this country, three years ago, I made some experiments of this species in my garden, by building two small summer-houses, adopting the Indian mode as nearly as the procure- Choonaam. 65 ment of ingredients would permit, and succeeded be- yond my most sanguine expectations. The expenses attendant were certainly considerable, but the satis- faction derived therefrom adequately compensated. My buildings were carried up in the English fashion as to the rough work, and upon that this plastering was worked, much in the manner you have described; but, the exudation being very great, prbbably from the cli- mate and ill mixture [its aspect was N. E. by E. it was begun in July, and finished the end of August], and not sufficient attention paid to it, greatly injured its appearance. This determined me to make an al- teration in the mixture; I therefore put a quadruple quantity of eggs, omitted totally the sugar, substituted butter for common lamp oil (as used in the former) with the addition of weak gum water, shells, bricks, and lime, well pulverized of course. The eggs and gum water only used in the last coating; the butter in the second and last: the polishing was performed by highly polished steel instruments of this form ; a sail-cloth sheltered it from the me- ridian sun for a few days, and it became as hard, firm, and solid as adamant, with as smooth and glofsy a surface as polished marble. I am, sir, your humble servant, ANGLO ASIATICUS. The next month I shall be able to give further no- tices upon the subject, if the present prove acceptable^ relative to plans of buildings similar, to be found in the interior of China. [Farther communications from this correspondent tvill be very acceptable.] VOL. i. e 66 Mr. Forsyth's Discoveries. Some, Account of the Discoveries of Mr. Forsyth, of Kensington, on the Means of recovering decayed Trees in general, and the Management of Fruit Trees in particular. Errores sunt discipuli. MR. FORSYTH is already in some measure known among men of letters by a pamphlet published by him several years ago On the mode of recovering decayed trees, and of giving firmnefs and stability to timber which, without such afsistance, would have been en- tirely uselefs. At that time parliament voted to him the sum of fifteen hundred pounds as a reward for his ingenuity, and an indemnification for the lofs he might sustain by freely communicating his secret to the pub- lic. It is, I think, much to be regretted, that that gentleman should have been prevailed upon to adopt this mode of publishing his discoveries, because it has not proved beneficial to himself [as by another mode of publication he might have gained more money than he yet has, or probably ever will obtain of that which was voted to him], and I am convinced that it has been the cause of rendering these discoveries much lefs beneficial to the public than they otherwise would have been. Discoveries of this sort, to be extensively useful, must be generally known ; and they cannot be gene- rally known unlefs the curiosity of the public is strongly excited by such means as are calculated to awaken attention. But, as an opinion prevails among the people of this country in general, that parliamen- Mr. Forsyth's Discoveries. 67 tary rewards are rather conferred upon individuals through interest, than in consequence of the merits of the persons who obtain them, the public are disposed to treat all the discoveries that have been thus reward- ed with an invidious kind of contempt: few people are inclined to inquire into their merits, and fewer still are willing to make experiments, and to give the discoveries a fair chance of being generally known. To these causes I am inclined to ascribe the little atten- tion that has been hitherto bestowed upon the disco- veries of Mr. Forsyth, though these, in consequence of the lights they have thrown upon the physical eco- nomy of a most numerous and important clafs of plants, and of the practical utility that results from them, will, in future times, be deemed among the most important discoveries of the present age. This is said thus unequivocally at the present moment, because the writer is thoroughly convinced, that all ingenious men who have taken the pains fully to inform them- selves, can entertain but one opinion concerning it; and that if there are any who do condemn it, it can only be such as are ignorant alike of the principles and of the practice of that ingenious observer of nature. Mr. Forsyth is no speculative reformer it is from practice and accurate observation alone that all his knowledge is derived; and the succefs that attends his practice (in regard to fruit trees especially, which is in the line of his own immediate profefsion, and therefore at all times within his power to perform the necefsary ope- rations when and how he will), is such as to make it a matter of much regret that it is not more gene- rally adopted; for there can be no doubt that if it 68 Mr. Forsyth's Discoveries. were, the produce of fruit in this country, and in Europe at large, to speak in the most moderate terms, would be at once rendered four times greater than it is at present. If I should say ten times, it would be nearer my own opinion. The writer of this article lived in a distant part of the country at the time that parliament took up the subject of Mr. Forsyth's discovery. It struck him at that time much in the way he has stated above, and he felt no strong inclination to repeat the experiments; for, though he doubted not that the facts were in ge- neral very much of the nature there stated, he was by no means convinced that much practical utility could be derived from these discoveries. When he visited the public part of Kensington gardens, die appearance of the few trees there on which Mr. Forsyth had ope- rated, as he saw them, without receiving particular explanations, did not tend much to alter his opinion. He was afterwards introduced to Mr. Forsyth in the inner garden, and, finding him open and communi- cative, he bestowed the necefsary attention. The ef- fects of his operations were there palpable and asto- nishing; but it was only by degrees that the means by which these effects were produced became obvious. The writer repeated his visits frequently, and always with additional pleasure; because objects became more intelligible, and of course interesting. In conclusion, becoming at length deeply sensible of the benefits that the community would derive from a more perfect knowledge of Mr. Forsyth's operations, he impor- tuned that gentleman to write upon the subject; fearing that if he should die before this was done, his Mr. Forsyth's Discoveries. 69 discoveries respecting the proper mode of treating fruit trees of various sorts, might, in some measure, die with him. He had the satisfaction at length to pre- vail on Mr. Forsyth to agree to write on that subject and something is already written : buf when it may be finished, no body can tell; for writing is by no means an agreeable task to this practical improver. If any thing can stimulate him to exert himself in this re- spect, it will be the dread that some other person may give an unfair representation of his practice and prin- ciples to the public: this, he says, has been already in some measure done. With a view to rouse him still farther, it is my intention to give to the public, through the medium of this miscellany, a slight idea of his practice respecting fruit trees, and the principles upon which that is founded, in as far as my observa- tions can enable me to do it; not doubting but that this sketch, imperfect .as it must be, will be attended with very beneficial consequences to all those who shall advert to it; and it may probably be in the end the means of drawing forth more complete information upon the subject than might otherwise have been ob- tained : for when I, half in joke, told Mr. Forsyth that if he would not publish, I myself would do it for him, he, laughing, answered, that he should attack me wherever he found me in an error, and would ex- pose me without mercy; to which I readily agreed. Preliminaries thus settled, we may hope that, if Mr. Forsyth should not proceed with his book, which I most anxiously wish to see completed, he will at least per- form his promise by reprehending the errors into which I may accidentally fall. My slight sketches may serve 70 Recovering gangrened Trees. to turn the public attention towards a subject of curi- ous- physical investigation, which is of much import- ance in rural economics: but it is the discoverer him- self alone who can fully satisfy the public on this very interesting subject. The basis of all Mr. Forsyth's improvements is the ointment he has invented (so I would call it, ra- ther than plaster, for he now applies it with a brush while of the consistency of common paint). This ointment, which is described in the pamphlet above alluded to, consisting of materials that are cheap and readily to be found every where, if properly applied to fresh wounds of trees of all sorts, heals them up im- mediately; so that he is now at liberty to drefs or prune apricots, plumbs, peaches, cherries, and other gummy fruit trees, whenever circumstances require it should be done, just as freely as he could cut a wil- low. By these means too he is enabled to eradicate from the stem of every tree all kinds of canker as soon as it appears, and restore it at once to perfect health and soundnefs. Every gardener knows that no care can guard trees of the gummy kind, that bear stone fruit, from receiving occasional injuries; the slightest bruise in the bark, from whatever cause it proceeds, immediately occasions a sore, which bleeds so freely as to produce a gangrene that greatly weakens the tree in all cases, and frequently kills it. It thus happens that there is a necefsity for throwing out most of that sort of trees before they have attained the age at which they come into full bearing; for all young trees are, comparatively speaking, unproductive, and the walls are of course left bare, or furnished only with unpro- Giving old Trees a new Bark. 71 ductive trees for half the time they exist. This evil is totally obviated by Mr. Forsyth, who has it in his power at all times to remove the disease as soon as it can be perceived, and thus to avoid the effects of it. Whenever a drop of gum, oozing from any part of a tree, indicates that it is diseased, he instantly takes his knife, cuts out the diseased part entirely, taking care that no bit of unsound matter be left, and immediately covers the wound with his ointment. From that mo- ment the disease is at an end; no mor<* gum exudes, the wound heals up, and the bark in that place be- comes perfectly smooth. Most of the diseases of trees, he has observed, pro- ceed from the bark; and if that be preserved fresh and clean, the tree will, in general, continue to prosper. This organ, then, claims at all times a considerable share of his attention; nor does he find any difficulty in bringing a smooth young bark upon the most ugly tree that falls under his care. Let it b>e full of bumps, warts, and every kind of blemish, he begins by taking off all the stubs, warts, and other irregularities, cutting clean into the wood with a sharp tool, and making all smooth, as a carpenter would do to a piece of timber he intended to paint. All the gangrenous parts he cuts out down to the quick; the rough scales of the bark he also scrapes off and smooths; taking care, however, to leave the under bark, wherever it is sound, as entire as pofsible, and to preserve a continuity of the bark in some place, no matter how narrow the connecting piece may be : for it is by the extension of this under bark gradually covering the wounded parts that the cure is to be completed, and the man- 72 Giving old Trees a new Bark. gled trunk rendered sound and entire. The only af- sistance that nature wants in this case is to have the wounds covered from the air by a ductile coating that yields, without cracking, to the expansion of the tree by its gradual increment, and at the same time is so adhesive as not to scale off by any vicifsitudes of wea- ther till the cure be effected. Such precisely is the ointment he has discovered; and the experience of near twenty years hath sufficiently proved its validity. There are now growing in the garden of Kensington, fruit trees whose bark is as smooth and as sound as any person could wish to see, which, a few years ago, were covered with knots and gangrenes to such a de- gree as seemed to be past all hopes of recovery; nor can any thing be more simple nor more easy than the procefs by which it has been effected. This is, in- deed, the easiest step in his progrefs, but it is a most important one; for half the fruit trees in this kingdom are destroyed, or rendered unproductive, by foulnefs in their bark, and the diseases which this engenders. Not only ought the fruit gardener to be continually on his guard to extirpate gum and canker of all sorts as soon as they appear, but also to eradicate misletoe and mofses of all kinds as soon as they shew them- selves, and to take away the hard scales of bark when- ever they are generated; thus will the tree be preserved in health and in a state of vigorous bearing long after it would have ceased to carry any sort of useful pro- duction. Open scales, in particular, should never be suffered to remain upon the stem, because they afford shelter for insects, whose eggs are deposited under them in abundance, and from whence the young ifsue Washing the Stem of Trees. 73 forth in myriads to prey upon the blofsom and tender spring buds, thus destroying the hopes of the owner. If the bark be once cured of imperfections, and ren- dered soft and smooth by the procefs above described, it may be preserved in that state for many years after- wards, merely by being well scowered with a hard brush and soap-suds once a year or oftener: nor can any one, who has not seen this procefs tried, conceive what a luxuriance and beauty it confers upon the tree. This kind of drefsing is as useful, at least, for the health of a tree, as curry-combing is to a horse; and the ex- pense will be repaid tenfold by the superior degree of productivenefs it will thus acquire. Mofs upon trees is, in general, supposed to proceed from poverty, or other defects of the soil on which they grow, and therefore no care is taken to extirpate it: and though there can be no doubt that a diseased habit may produce a greater aptitude in trees to nourish mofs than if they were in health, as peculiar defects of soil may dispose them to nourish certain weeds ra- ther than others, yet before either of them can grow at all, the seeds must be present. As justly, then, might we suppose that because weeds are the native produce of the soil, they ought therefore to be suffered to remain undisturbed, as that trees should be left en- tirely to themselves in regard to mofs: but experience hath shewn the futility of this remark, and the expe- rienced cultivator knows that, by a continued atten- tion to prevent weeds from coming to seed, they may be, in time, almost entirely eradicated. Hence hath arisen the common proverb, that " one year's seeding (C will occasion seven years weeding." Every orchard 74 Extirpating Moss and Misletoe. owner ought to recollect that mofs is a weed produced from seed precisely as other weeds are, and that, pf course, if the plants be allowed to remain undisturbed till they perfect their seeds, the succeeding crop will be proportionally more abundant than if they had been in time eradicated. And as weeds, where they super- abound, are known greatly to diminish the crop of corn, and sometimes to overcome it entirely, so mofs, where it has taken full pofsefsion of the tree, exhausts its juices, weakens its vegetative powers, so as first to diminish the produce of fruit, then to render it totally unproductive, and, at length, to kill it entirely. Who- ever therefore is in pofsefsion of fruit trees, and suffers lichens and mofs to establish themselves upon them undisturbed, is guilty of the most unpardonable mis- management. To extirpate this plant, though diffi- cult, is not impofsible, and requires a mode of manage- ment, to develope which I cannot stop at present. This may be better done on some future occasion. Misletoe is a parasitical plant, of a similar nature to the smaller kinds of mofses, &c. But, its seeds being larger and lefs abundant, it is by no means so generally diffused as the mofses are. Hence it hap- pens that in many parts of this island the misletoe is entirely unknown; but there can be no doubt that, if the misletoe were properly planted [I have known it thus planted] in any part of this island, it would there thrive and propagate its seeds, and become the pest of the orchardists, as it now is in those counties where it has been long established. It follows that, if the orchardists, where this ravenous weed grows, were to exert themselves but for a few years to destroy Effects of Caterpillars on Trees. 75 it entirely before it came to seeds, they would be for ever after freed from its destructive ravages, without the smallest care or attention on their part; and who can compute the benefits the country would derive from such a small and well timed exertion ! Similar, but at the same time more extensive, would be the benefits that would result from the eradication of mofs; but it would require proportionally greater exertions to do it completely. These speculations are only corollaries from Mr. Forsyth's practice in other respects, for it does not seem that he has. had much occasion to make great exertions in this respect. Indeed his general practice is naturally calculated to discourage the growth of pa- rasitical plants of all sorts, as will appear when we come to develope it more fully. With a view, however, to show what a permanent benefit may be derived from a well directed temporary exertion, I shall here beg leave to state one of Mr. Forsyth's experiments, as the result of it ought to be universally known by every person who attends to the rearing of fruit trees. About ten or twelve years ago, Mr. Forsyth observed, in the early part of summer, that a swarm of caterpillars had established themselves on a row of young apple trees, about twenty in num- ber, and were committing great ravages upon the leaves of these trees; as they were then of no great size, he set himself to pick off all the leaves on which caterpillars were to be found, beginning at one end, and proceeding regularly forward. In this way he 1 went over about one half of the trees with great care; but, tiring of this labour, and other avocations de- 76 Effects of Caterpillars on Trees. rnanding his attention, he left the other half of the trees to their fate. The consequence was, that the picked trees, after a temporary suspension of growth, put out a new set of leaves, made vigorous shoots, and, at the end of the season, were in perfect health and strength ; the other half of the row had been so entirely stripped of their leaves by the caterpillars, who continued long upon them, that they had not strength to recover during that season, which so much weak- ened them that they became diseased, and for the space of nine or ten years, that he left them untouched, had never made one healthy shoot, and scarcely pro- duced any fruit at all; the plants which had been picked continuing all this while to grow as vigorously as could be wished, and producing fruit as well as any other trees of the same age in the garden. The differ- ence was indeed so very striking, that I could not help taking notice of it the first time I saw them. Suspect- ing it must originate with the soil in which they grew, I anxiously inquired into the cause of this difference; when I was afsured that the soil throughout the whole was of the same quality, and that the difference in the growth between the two ends of the row was to be ascribed entirely to the circumstance I have just now stated. Having seen that nothing would recover those stinted trees but amputation, Mr. Forsyth resolved, last season, to cut them down, in order to give them greater vigour, and thus to become, as it were, new trees; of which I shall have occasion to treat more fully here- after. Every reader may recollect, that wherever gooseberries have been much destroyed by the cater- pillars in one season, it has required many years to Decayed Trees soon brought to bear. 77 restore the trees to full health and strength again, if indeed they ever acquired it. This is a disease precisely of the same nature with that above described.. Having discovered how easy it was, by the help of his ointment, to cure the diseases of trees, and to bring them into a state of vigorous growth from that of de- cay, and nearly a total stagnation of vegetative powers, Mr. Forsyth had very soon occasion to observe, that in general the production of fruit could be much more quickly attained by medicating old trees, and thus re- newing their growth, than by rooting them out, and then planting young ones in their stead. A decayed orchard, therefore, under his hands, would become a treasure of great value: because, in the course of a few years, it could be thrown into a state of the highest luxuriance that could be wished, and brought into full Bearing. In general he computes that an old tree cut down, and properly medicated, will yield as much fruit in the third year after that operation, as a young tree, planted on the same soil, would produce in the thir- tieth year from the time it was planted ; the lofs then that must be sustained by those who abandon old or- chards, or root out the trees in order to plant young ones in their stead, may be easily estimated. So far is Mr. Forsyth from following this practice himself, that he never turns out an old tree, nor plants a young one when he can avoid it. On the contrary, when he finds any person in his neighbourhood who is tired of an old tree, and wishes to turn it out, he is always ready, provided its roots be sound, to put in its place a young tree of any kind they shall choose from a nur- sery, if they will give him the old tree; as he find.-: 78 Old Trees to te preferred to young. that, even after being transplanted, these old trees come into bearing much sooner than any young ones he could procure. By the same rule, when he is ob- liged to go to a nursery, he always chooses the oldest plants he can find there, be they ever so stubbed and ill looking, as those usually are which have been re- jected by former purchasers, and allowed to stand be- yond the usual time there. He thinks no tree lost beyond the power of recovery whose roots are sound, be it ever so much decayed above ground. If there be but the breadth of one inch of sound fresh bark upon it, were all its shoots at a stand, he would not despair of recovering it. There is, at present, in Kensington garden, a cherry tree which, upon investigation, he found had been brought from abroad by Admiral in the year 1688, and presented to King William. Three others of the same sort of cherry were brought at the same time, and given to different noblemen. All of these have been long dead. The tree in Kensington garden had been so much spent, that it had not borne fruit for many years before Mr. Forsyth took the charge of that garden. When he first saw it, its trunk, which had been very large, was rotted out, and a cavity like a well had been formed in its place; on one side only a small piece of the bark was alive, from which had sprung out a few weak shoots, that had now given over pushing forth any wood; the utmost force of its vegetative powers was only capable of throwing out a few leaves. In this miserable state of existence it chanced to attract the notice of the king one day a* he was going through the garden, who, turning short, Surprising Recovery of a Tree. 79 said, " Forsyth, I suppose this tree is beyond your power to recover." ' I fear so, sir, said Mr. Forsyth.' After the king was gone, he found, upon examining the roots, that one of these still remained sound, and seemed capable of being brought into action. He immediately took it in charge; cut down the remain- ing part of the stump as low as he could safely go, to get at as much of the live bark as he could ; cut away the decayed wood on all sides till he came to the quick, and immediately covered it over with his ointment; at the same time opening up the ground about the root, and giving it some fresh rich mold. Next sea- son it put out a shoot of about a yard in length, and it has advanced since that period with as great vigour as other trees in the garden. In the second year it pro- duced a few cherries, which were found to be of a very fine quality, and in the third year it bore a full crop. This shews what may be done, although it by no means follows that every tree which is in a similar state of decay could be recovered after the same man- ner; for it will often happen that the root is en- tirely diseased before the top falls so much into decay as this was. I shall close my observations on this subject for the present with one remark, which will not appear un- important to those who are acquainted with the pro- ductions of the southern parts of Europe. It is this. Mr. Forsyth finds by experience, as above stated, that an old apple or pear tree cut down and medicated comes into full bearing about the third year after this operation has been performed, while an orchard of young apple trees does not come into a similar state of bearing till about the thirtieth year; but a plan- 80 Olive Plantations. tation of olives requires to be at least eighty or ninety years of age before the trees come into full bearing. To abridge this tedious length of time therefore be- tween the decay of an old plantation of olives, and a young plantation to supply its place, must be an ob- ject of immense consequence to the natives of those countries where olives are a principal crop. But as it is found by invariable experience, that the young shoots which proceed from old stems, when properly medi- cated, are not only more vigorous than those of young trees that have been lately planted, but also have a much greater aptitude to throw out fruit buds and carry fruit, there is every reason to believe that a de- cayed olive tree, if cut down after Forsyth's method, and properly medicated, would come into as full a state of bearing in five or six years, as a young plan- tation could be made to yield in the space of sixty or seventy years. To a person, then, pofsefsing property of this sort, it must be accounted a discovery of the most precious utility, as it augments the value of that property to him almost an hundred fold. It brings, in short, within his reach the means of subsisting himself and family, without which invention he never could have been benefitted in the smallest degree. Considered under this point of view, no exertions that I know can be deemed so purely patriotic as the making a plantation of olives; it must of course be too often neglected, and the produce of the country be thus diminished: this contrivance removes the ob- jection, and it must consequently be deemed of the utmost national importance. In some future number of this work we shall enter into farther details on this very interesting subject. ( 81 ) Cursory Hints on the Utility of Periodical Performances. Teaching we learn, and giving we receive. ANON. THE gift of speech is the most appropriate natural prerogative of man. By this faculty one individual can convey to another not only the powerful emotions of the heart, but the more cool and unimpafsioned deli- berations of the head, with perfect precision and ac- curacy; every fact that he himself has had occasion to observe, every circumstance that hath been commu- nicated to him by another, every idea, in short, that strikes his imagination, and every consequence dedu- cible from any combination of these, can be made to imprefs the mind of another with energy and power. Thus are his pleasures, as a social creature, augmented, and his powers, as a rational being, extended to a de- gree to which the utmost stretch of his imagination can set no limits: but, without the, art of perpetuating his ideas by writing, and extending its limits by means of printing, his knowledge must have been greatly li- mited, and his powers infinitely circumscribed, com- pared to what they now are. Of all the inventions of man, therefore, no one hath tended so much to augment the human power, or to influence his happinefs, as the art of printing. Like the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden, it hath set wide open the door to the knowledge of good and of evil', for it would seem that it hath been decreed, that no good thing can ever be enjoyed' without the pofsi- bility of its being contaminated by the admixture of VOL. I. f 82 On Periodical Performances. evil. By means of the power of thus difseminating ideas, the mind of a solitary individual may be dilated and expanded until its influence be felt through all the regions of the globe. That puny being who, without the aid of this invention, could have had scarcely any influence in the universe, may, by its means, be ope- rating powerfully at the same moment of time in China and in Lapland, on the banks of the Danube and the borders of the Mifsifsippi, in the fertile pro- vinces of India, or the burning desarts of Arabia: nor is this influence confined to one period of time only ; it may spread wide and wider during the evo- lution of ages till time itself shall be no more. It is in this manner that Theophrastus and Aristotle still instruct, and Theocritus and Homer charm all civi- lized nations. It is thus that Plato hath become the friend and the companion of Burke, that Zeno and Johnson have been afsociated together; thus also hath Archimedes and Newton, Timoleon and Washington become objects of reverential admiration by all man- kind; in this way likewise hath a Clodius and a Mira- beau, a Catiline and Roberspierre become alike objects of disgust and universal detestation. Since, then, this energetic engine may be employed with such forcible power, either to promote the best interests of society, or to disturb the repose of mankind, how careful ought those to be who attempt to put it in motion, lest they give it an improper direction ! for the welfare of thou- sands may be disturbed by the operations of an hour, which hath been influenced by vanity, caprice, or some such unworthy motive. What a powerful sti- mulus ought these considerations to afford to persons On Periodical Performances. 83 of warm and beneficent dispositions, to exert their best powers for the benefit of mankind during the short time that their faculties are in full vigour, when they reflect that these their temporary exertions may be productive of incalculable benefits to millions of beings yet unborn, and long after their mortal part shall have been mixed with its parent dust, and lost in perpetual oblivion; long even after the memory of their names, as well as writings, shall be totally forgotten; for the mind of one man, being once directed into a proper train, like a tree judiciously planted in a fertile soil duly prepared to receive it, instead of growing, only in a cankered and distorted state, (as it might have done in an unfavourable soil) or quickly perishing, expands itself with vigour, and is productive of abundance of good fruit, becoming in time the parent of an innumerable progeny partici- pating of its original good qualities, which continue to flourish long after the gardener^ to whose care the parent tree owed its preservation, hath been totally forgotten in the universe. On the contrary, should not the same consideration have a powerful influ- ence to check the inconsiderate hand of genius from applying those talents which might be so much better employed, for the purpose of corrupting the heart, or disturbing the tranquillity of mankind, merely to gra- tify some insignificant whim, to satisfy some inordi- nate appetite, or to indulge the pafsion of an hour ! Let them compare the fleeting and unsatisfactory na- ture of this sort of enjoyment, if enjoyment it may be called, with the permanence of that regret which it excites, and with the perpetuity of that odium which it must of necefsity insure, if the powers of the indi- f 2 fe4 On Periodical Performances. vidiial shall be equal to the vanity which prompted the attempt, and the wickednefs which carried it into execution. Periodical works, though they rank among the low- est literary productions of the present age, may, per- haps, when considered under this point of view, be deemed capable of being rendered amongst the most useful performances. They afsume not the pompous form and forbidding appearance of a large book. Their price is so low as to bring them within the reach of every person in easy circumstances. Pamphlets, on account of the smallnefs of their size, are apt to be lost, and soon forgotten ; and, though every number of a periodical work be in fact a pamphlet, the con- nection that invariably subsists between one and an- other, affords an inducement to preserve them in vo- lumes; and thus what amused the father may, in time, come to afford instruction to the son. From their miscellaneous nature too, they may afford something that will be suited to gratify by turns the wishes of every clafs of readers : even those efsays which are not exactly suited to the taste of one reader, and which never would have been looked into by him had the whole work been of that nature, come to be casually glanced over, and the mind is thus, as it were, be- guiled into the acquisition of knowledge of a kind it never otherwise would have thought of. Is any thing thus observed that displeases? it produces a desire to refute the supposed misrepresentation, or to correct the error. In either case it induces the reader to reflect upon the subject more seriously than he would other- wise have done, and thus he comes to be better in- On Periodical Performances. 85 formed concerning it. Does he thus satisfy himself that he is right? he finds it such an easy matter to communicate his ideas to the public on that head, that he is naturally induced to do it. If his surmises are apparently well founded, and the mode of commu- nicating his ideas unafsuming and proper, his com- munication will, of course, obtain a place. If his sentiments be capable of bearing the test of unpre- judiced truth, they will be corroborated and confirmed by future observations; and he will feel the satisfaction of perceiving that he hath obtained respect, without the imputation of flattery. Those who have felt the dig- nified sensation of self respect, will be able to judge of the gratification that this affords, and can best discri- minate between that and the little childish wayward pafsion called vanity. Should the remarks be dictated by vanity or any malevolent affection, they will soon be refuted; and the person who was thus in danger of going astray, will feel his mind secretly humbled, without experiencing the mortification of a public affront. To all ranks of persons, therefore, this may become a school for the mind, of the greatest utility; because, if the work be duly conducted, this school must be one of the strictest impartiality. Those in exalted stations can thus, and thus almost alone, elude the snares that perpetually lie in their way to deceive them, from the afsiduous attention of those flatterers who continually surround them, and whose interest it is to feed their vanity, and to imprefs their mind with a high idea of their superior powers on every oc- casion. Could great men justly appreciate the value of this school, and properly avail themselves of it, they 86 On Periodical Performances. would deem it of inestimable importance, both in re- ppect to its tending to augment their domestic felicity, and add to their weight and importance in the state. To those in more humble stations also, this school may be of much utility. Is inclination in them mis- taken for the impulse of genius, it may thus be easily and effectually discovered without subjecting them to any personal inconvenience;, and they may be taught in time to abandon unproductive pursuits, to follow some profefsion more suited to their powers, in which they may live comfortably, and become useful mem- bers of society. Are real talents, on the other hand, deprefsed by poverty, and overwhelmed by those con- tumelious rebuffs which persons of undiscerning wealth, with such a mortifying indifference, so li- berally bestow, they can here bend their bow unseen, and try its strength: if it is the bow of Ulyfses, the flight of its arrows will be undoubtedly remarked, and the strength of the arm from whence they proceeded will not fail to create respect; a respect which, it will be admitted, would have been by no means so infalli- ble, had the ungainly abjectnefs of the operator been at first distinctly perceptible. In this manner is a periodical work better calculated both to interest and improve a reader than any other. It is calculated not only to extend the knowledge and improve the heart by the precepts it contains, and the examples it ad- duces ; but it is farther calculated to direct the under- standing, and to regulate the conduct of individuals by their own private exertions, in many cases where no other known means could prove adequate to the effect : it lays open a path, in short, which may be easiry On Periodical Performances. 87 pursued, and which ought to be neglected by no one who wishes to make any considerable proficiency in knowledge. If you wish your son, said some one, to become an exact observer of nature, make him a painter. The advice was certainly well founded. To those who have been accustomed to view the face of nature with the apathy of ordinary men, many objects appear to be so little diversified from each other, that they can scarcely be recognised as different in any respect, while to the discriminative eye of the painter they are distinguished by innumerable traits of the most marked diversity. The mind of the first pafses over them with a brute unconscious gaze, while that of the other is led by a euccefsion of endlefs and ever- pleasing varieties into the warmest glow of animating sensibilities. Every shade hath its discriminative effect peculiarly appre- ciated by him; and not a partial irradiation of tint can affect the landscape, without having its singular beauty remarked, nor a transient gleam of light be suffered to pafs over it without suggesting a train of the most interesting reflections. In like manner I would say that few men (perhaps, I should say no man) can ob- tain a thorough knowledge of any subject without having first digested his ideas upon it, and reduced them to writing. Unlefs he does this, his ideas will be general, superficial, and confused; he may have some notion which way they tend; but he neither can know the exact extent to which they will go, nor the precise point to-which they will lead. If he wishes to do this, let him sit down to write upon the subject while his mind is forcibly imprefsed with it : let him then fol- 88 On Periodical Performances. low the train of reflections that will naturally present themselves, and examine every particular, with accu- racy and attention, as he goes along; let him go steadily forward in this investigation, regardlefs of the conclusion to which it seems to point. In the course of this progrefs he will soon discover that he knew many particulars respecting it which he had never adverted to, and to which he never would have ad- verted at all had it not been for this investigation. Many facts will present themselves that have been the result of his own observation, and many others that he had acquired by reading, but to which at the time, when they stood separately and independent of each other, he annexed no idea of importance; which were, of course, uselefs to him, and which he will now come to see, when they are connected with others, to be of the utmost importance, and to lead invariably to conclusions of incontrovertible utility. When he hath finished his efsay with the rapidity which this steady attention to his subject will invari- ably produce, and without having bestowed a thought either upon the manner of arrangement, the language, or other extraneous circumstances, he will then, and not till then, come to be sensible of what he does ac- tually know upon the subject (which will be in gene- ral much more than he himself suspected). He will also be sensible in what respects his knowledge is still deficient, and of course be prepared to inquire farther concerning these whenever an opportunity occurs : let him then deliberately examine all the facts he hath thus been able to accumulate; to weigh the reason- ing from these facts, and adhere to the conclusion he On Periodical Performances. 89 hath thus been brought to, regardlefs alike whether it correspond* with his own crude ideas that he had vaguely adopted on the subject, or those of any other person. Let him thus ingenuously seek after truth without regard to system, to fame, to wealth, or any other consideration, and it is great odds but he will find it. This being found, let him steadily adhere to it. All this being done, he may then, if he pleases, digest his efsay into proper form, and be at pains with the language, by studying concisenefs, perspicuity, and elegance : but let him take care never to weaken an idea for the sake of an exprefsion. He will thus at- tain the habit of thinking correctly, which is doubtlefs the most efsential step towards the art of writing cor- rectly and with ease on any subject. Conversation, to a person who hath thus habituated himself to learn what he really does know, is a most pleasing exercise to the mind, because he is alike fitted to give and to receive information; but it is much the reverse to those who satisfy themselves with the incorrect notions of things which must ever prevail where no care has been taken previously to arrange their ideas respecting it. They exprefs boldly the first floating; notion that transiently presents itself: this, if it chances to be un- founded, or erroneous (which they would easily have discovered themselves had they previously adverted to it with the necefsary caution) may chance to be im- pugned in an offensive manner, which, at the same time, cannot be easily refuted; this produces irritation of mind, which leads to vague reasoning, positive af- sertion, and, perhaps, implicated abuse, from which nothing good can flow. Writing, then, of the kind 90 On Periodical Performances. above recommended, I consider to be of the most ef- sential utility in life, not only as it induces a habit of accurate observation of facts as they occur, and of de- ducing correct inferences from them, which alone can lead to true knowledge; but as adding greatly to the enjoyment of life by augmenting the convivial plea- sures of society, and the undisturbed intercourse of mind. To digest one's ideas, and to write upon any sub- ject, is, to most men who have never attempted it, from the view above stated, rather a painful exertion. To render it pleasing, it will be necefsary for most men to have some farther inducement to do it than that which is to be derived from mere self-information. It will at once occur to every reader, that periodical per- formances are singularly .well calculated to afford the encouragement required in these cases. Men of talents are thus furnished with a ready vehicle by which they can subject themselves to the impartial and salutary schooling above specified, without being exposed to public shame, should their efforts not be crowned with the desired succefs, while they have an equal chance of being gratified by the soothing voice of uninfluenced applause. To those whose circumstances require a pecuniar}' compensation, the editors of most of these publications are willing to allow something of this kind for pieces that they account of merit in the several departments that they affect. The Editor of this miscellany, while he earnestly recommends the practice of the mode of writing above described to per- sons of talents, as regarding only their own improve- ment, will be ever ready to forward their views to the Literary Intelligence requested. 91 utmost of his power. Such communications as shall be transmitted to him shall be inserted, if their merit, according to his best judgment, shall be such afe to en- title them to a place, where others of superior merit do not necefsarily claim a precedence. When they must unfortunately be rejected, it will be done with that mildnefs of criticism which a desire to direct aright those whom inexperience may mislead, will naturally inspire: nor will he be backward to give such a pecuniary com- pensation, where circumstances shall render that de- sirable, for pieces of distinguished merit, as the nature of his publication will admit. Hints on the Utility of Literary Intelligence. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. SIR, I HAVE read your prospectus with plea- sure; nor has the first number of your work disap- pointed the expectations it had raised. I sincerely wish it all the succefs you can desire. It is that wish which hath prompted me to submit to your conside- ration the few hints that I shall here beg leave to sug- gest, and which I hope you will take in good part, whether your opinion shall finally coincide with mine or not. I can easily enter into your ideas respecting a monthly chronicle of events, and your desire to avoid those political wranglings which it is so difficult to gteer entirely free of where the usual articles of news- 92 Literary Intelligence requested. paper intelligence are detailed in any way. When you decline to enter, on any terms, into this walk of literature, I am much inclined to think you judge wisely. But do you not go too far, if it be really your intention to avoid giving literary intelligence of any sort? From the hint given in the postscript to your prospectus, I was inclined to hope that you did intend to favour your readers with some account of the pro- grefs of literature in Europe; but, finding no hint of this sort in the first number of your work, I begin to suspect that I must have misunderstood the purport of that pafsage; and that literary intelligence gf any kind, I mean a regular connected series of literary news, forms no part of your present plan. If so, I must re- gret it; because I know it will disappoint many of your readers, and greatly circumscribe the circulation of your work. I regret this the more, since I know few persons who are likely to engage in such an un- dertaking that have such opportunities as yourself to obtain intelligence of that sort with accuracy from abroad. I was a subscriber to the Bee, and had an opportunity of there observing the extension of your correspondence in this walk. And though I cannot help regretting with you that the circumstances of the times should prove so great a bar to literary corre- spondence in Europe, yet methinks this ought not to discourage you entirely from doing any thing at all in that wajk. I am mistaken if it be not a maxim of your own, that, " where we cannot do all the good we wish, let us at least do all that is within the compafs of our power." According to the spirit of this max- im, though in respect to your private correspondence Literary Intelligence requested. 93 being hampered you cannot do so much as you other- wise might have done, still you can do something. You have the same accefs to public documents as others, and consequently can be on an equal footing with them; and your private communications, though in some measure checked, will not be entirely annihi- lated, which, in as far as it goes, will be an advan- tage peculiar to yourself. May I then use the freedom to endeavour to prevail with you to resume that de- partment, in case you had really thoughts of abandon- ing it; 'as you will thus not only afford a particular satisfaction to myself, but to many others among your readers and well-wishers ? I should not, however, have ventured to urge this request so strongly, had my own gratification alone, and that of my friends been concerned in it; we are fully satisfied that the succefs of your work, and the ultimate extent of its circulation, v> ill be considerably affected by it. All men who have a taste for reading have a great desire to be informed of what is going on in the literary world, with as little trouble and expense to themselves as pofsible. One literary work which contains this kind of intelligence will be invariably preferred by them to another which has it not, though, in other respects, they might chance to prefer the last. Ought it not to be your wish to gratify this clafs of readers? for, whatever you may think, I am myself persuaded that it must be among this description of persons that every literary work must chiefly circulate. As to that clafs of beings who read chiefly by way of opiate, could your numbers be rained down upon their tables like manna from heaven, they might perhaps 94 Correspondents. be tempted sometimes to look into them; but I feaf if your work is only to come to them in consequence of their own exertions to obtain it, it will run a great risk of never being seen by them at all. I hope you- will pardon these well meant hints from A FRIEND. The Editor is much obliged to this correspondent for his very friendly communication, which he will take into consideration. He had only intended to have given occasional literary intelligence when any thing of importance in that line accidentally occurred; but, should he find that it is the wish of his readers in general to be furnished with a regular connected chain of literary intelligence, he shall, in that case, adopt arrangements for complying with their wishes. The Editor has been favoured by his friend Dr. Anderson of Madras, with a circumstantial account in MS. of the lofs of the Winterton East Indiaman some years ago on the Island of Madagascar, written by one of the pafsengers who survived that melancholy event, containing some remarks on the productions and manners of the people of that country; particularly some very interesting anecdotes of the king, which will be communicated in some future number of this work. The favour of Aristides is received, but it is so badly written that it will be difficult, if not impofsible, to decypher it without clanger of errors. It is requested Correspondents. 95 that correspondents will be careful to write in a legible hand. It is also requested that when extracts are made from any publication, these may be marked, and par- ticular care taken that they be accurately and faith- fully transcribed, even to the spelling and pointing. When quotations are in a foreign language, be par- ticularly attentive to write the letters quite distinct, with all the accents, and the points truly placed. Thanks to Pkilopemen for his good opinion. His remarks shall be attended to. The favour of Heraclitus is come to hand, but too late for this number. The answer to Mira's query is unavoidably deferred for want of room. The following is the advice of a much respected friend and valuable correspondent respecting the con- duct of this work, which shall be duly adverted to. " I beseech of you to preserve your constant aim to pro- mote the progrefs of virtue, order, industry, and be- nevolence, and to render your miscellany as much as pofsible a channel for the promotion of improvements in agriculture, labour-saving contrivances and ma- chines, both in that and manufactures. A spirit of temperance and increasing industry among all ranks seem to me the most likely to avert great misfortunes in this nation. "I am now, and have been for eight years past, quite out of the world both literary and political; yet I be- lieve there are a great many respectable people who will draw towards you, and do you good, as being well thought of by old Buehan, and Washington, Demp- ster, and other men of times that are past." 96 Lord Nelson's Egrette. The vignette below will serve to convey some idea to our readers of the Egrette that was sent in a pre- sent to Admiral (now Lord) Nelson, by the Grand Signior, after the battle of the Nile; though it can- not pretend to accuracy, being done from a hasty sketch taken by one of the officers who saw it, and from recollection only. It consists of three concentric rings of brilliants of an oval form, surrounding a large star of beautiful lustre, which turns round upon its centre with a slow and equable motion, by means of clock-work behind it. On the top is placed a plume, as it is commonly, though improperly called, consist- ing of five leaves spread out like a fan, the edges of which are bordered all round with brilliants. That part of these which rises above the uppermost circular piece is flexible: below is a bow of three bends on each side, which are all united in a centre, where is placed a brilliant of large size surrounded with lefser, with an imitation of five tafsels beneath. It is, upon, the whole, a most superb ornament, which dazzles the eyes by the variety of colours, and the excefsive brilliancy which they exhibit when fully displayed. - RECREATIONS IK ARTS AND LITERATURE. 1st JUXE 1799. Lucubrations of Timothy Hairl-rain* To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. The Recluse. [Continued from p. 61.] I THANK you, my good sir, for your obliging letter. Its contents were very acceptable. I find you are still the old man, semper idem} not as the cor- comb translated it, worse and worse, but, as I would rather do, better and better. Long mayest thou con- tinue to follow the golden rule of treating others as you would wish to be treated yourself. It is a good rule, plain and explicit, yet it is not even' one who is able fully to comprehend it. I now return to my recluse. I think I stopped short at the Eolian arbour. It is a pretty little rural seat, simply elegant, calculated, by its sober shade, rather to draw the mind to inward contemplation, than to awaken the senses by the attractive prominency of any of its parts. The picture which Thomas had drawn of the sensations that the music produced on his master, VOL. I. g 98 The Recluse. excited in me a strong inclination to hear it; for I never had heard an Eolian harp, nor could I help ex- prefsing a wish to that effect. Thomas said, he be- lieved it would be in his power to indulge my wish, for the morning promised to be favourable for that purpose, and immediately left me. It was, indeed, a pleasing morning; such a morning precisely as would, in ancient times, have invited Mr. Zephyrus to have a game at romps with Madam Flora. Having seat- ed myself in the arbour, and fallen into a sort of reverie, Flora, who, like Hebe, is ever fair and ever young, presented herself before my eyes [for you well know, Mr. Editor, that I pofsefs the power of imagi- nation, or, in other words, the faculty of .dreaming, while awake, in great perfection]. Methought then that Madam Flora, who had been up by the peep of dawn, was before me. Her face, still moistened with the morning dew, was fresh as the opening rose-bud. Her evening mantle was laid aside; her cap was al- ready set; and she looked so cheerful, and so inviting, that even age felt a temporary exultation in her pre- sence. Mr. Zephyrus, however, had not yet awoke, and might, perhaps, have slumbered for some time longer inattentive to her charms, had not his father Sol gently whispered to him to rise. At first he moved softly onward, with a step so light as if he was afraid to disturb the stillnefs that so universally pre- vailed. Flora no sooner perceived his approach than she began to move. The timid Zephyrus, as if afraid to give offence, stopped short, and hid himself among the bushes. Flora again stood still, sometimes moving her head a little as if she was in search of the swain The Recluse. 99 she had lost. Inspired with fresh courage, he stepped more boldly forward; but, seeing her put into aflut- ter at his approach, his heart failed him, and he re- lented in his course. She turned her head again with an aifected coynefs, but alluring smile, which invited him again. Thus they played at bo-peep for some time with an enchanting playfulnefs that amused me highly. He then approached her slily, and stole a sweet ambrosial kifs, which gave such a vivid glow to her countenance, and made her look so lovely, that he could not help folding her still faster in his arms, till he had snatched, with increasing ecstasy, another and an- other still, she chiding him the while, but with such a look as only emboldened him the more : at last he be- came so impetuous, that I feared he would have ruffled her too much. I was starting to my feet to afsist the maid, when I perceived standing at my side a man somewhat advanced in years, but of a hale and vigo- rous habit, and more sportive archnefs in his look than is usual with persons of his age. " Be not surprised," said he; " my name is Anacreon; nor need you be under any uneasinefs on that girl's account. These two," said he, with an exprefsive smile, " are old ac- quaintance, who, like other lovers, are continually quarrelling, and yet perpetually courting together." An old poet, who lived a great many ages ago, named Theocritus, had marked their frolicsome gambols, and described them in part. " What you now see," said he, " is nothing; he becomes sometimes so rude, and handles her so roughly, as even to tear her very cap from her head, or the clothes from off her back ; then she scolds at such a rate that you would be sur- 100 The Recluse. prised to hear her, calling him Auster, Euros, Boreas, and other hard names; then they part in such bad humour, that you would believe they never could be reconciled again; yet, next day, they are as kind and as frolicsome as if no such thing had happened. This lady," says he, " you must know, is the vain- est creature you ever saw, and is rich beyond mea- sure. She has a wardrobe that is stored with an in- exhaustible variety of drefses of the most brilliant co- lours, which she takes great pleasure in displaying to the best advantage, and the greatest diversity of forms that can be conceived, yet all beautiful and elegant; so that, if she has a cap ruffled, or a gown torn, it is of little consequence, for she will appear with a new one to-morrow, without costing her any extraordinary exertion. She is, too, a very Proteus in her form, and delights in disguising herself, so that you would scarcely know her for the same. Sometimes she hides her head under a tuft of leaves, so that Zephyrus him- self could never find her, were it not for the soft per- fume that she breathes around, which leads him to her haunts, while in this shape she chooses to be called Viola; at other times she afsumes the pouting sweet- nefs of the opening rose : now she puts on the stately port and vestal purity of the candid lily; then the modest* coynefs of the cowslip." He was proceeding, when methought I heard a sound, or something softly sweet, at such a distance, that I only thought it was some kind of music. I listened to perceive what it could be; it was gone, and universal silence reigned: then, by degrees, a tender strain arose, soft and sweet as aromatic groves; onward it seemed to come, though The Recluse. 101 still so distant, that nothing but the most swelling strains could be distinctly heard. It paused again ; then came a gentle whispering scarcely to be perceived ; when in a short time sounds as if of voices were heard to join in one grand chorus of the richest harmony. It seemed gradually to approach the place where I sat; but as if at times deadened by intervening walls, the sounds be- came fainter, though still mixed in the fullest har- mony; again it retreated, and, as if rising high into the air, it seemed as if a choir of angels had united to pay a visit to this earth; but, like the visionary blifs of dreams, when we thought it was within our grasp, it was gone. While I was lost in regret for the de- parture of this bewitching phantom, a single sound in strains of sweetest melody was heard just close be- hind me. The air was solemn, heavenly, divine. The tones were sometimes low and plaintive, then swelling gradually, they burst into an impafsioned strain of rap- turous exultation : my soul was lost as it were with- in me; I scarcely dared to breathe, when millions of voices joined in one loud and continued peal of har- mony, that seemed to drown, in a temporary annihi- lation, this earth itself, and all that it inhabit. When these strains, after an endlefs variety of ever-changing modulations, at length subsided into a breathing pause, and I recovered somewhat of my usual perceptions, I found myself standing upright, with my hands stretch- ed forth, without knowing how I had been thrown into that attitude, and Thomas by my side. " Tho- mas," said I, "what does all this mean?" 'Nothing, sir; these are the natural tones of the Eolian harp; when you have heard them a little longer, you will no 102 The Recluse. more be surprised ; but with a natural taste for music^ such as I perceive you have, it will never cease to please 5 for this instrument pofsefses one peculiar excellence, that is pofsefsed, I believe, by none other, it always utters tones exactly suited to the state of mind you are in at the time. Are you grave, the strains are solemn, grand, and divinely pathetic ; are you cheerful, they are light, sportive, and exhilarating; in short, they are ever exactly suited to the tone of your mind at the time, and serve to heighten, but not to alter, the thoughts that were pafsing in your breast when first it caught tha ear. But it is those only who are susceptible of the warmest mental sensations, that can be touched at all by these artlefs, varying strains. To others, it is a mere changing and unmeaning sound, that may serve to interrupt their thoughts, but never can give rise to any sort of ecstatic sensation.' I felt, even at the moment, thejustnefs of this remark; for though the tones continued, after we began to con- verse, they were no longer enchantingly imprefsive to me; the mind had* not leisure to pursue its own train of ideas, nor to bring the strains exactly in unison with them; so that, to feel the power of this instrument, it is necefsary to be even more alone, than is re- quired to make you relish the strains of the night- ingale; before they can produce an ecstatic glow, the mind must be previously prepared to receive the im- prefsion. I could not but admire the singular judg- ment that directed the efforts of this faithful servant; for nothing I can imagine could have had such a happy tendency to allay the melancholy that preyed upon the mind of his master, as this kind of soothing at- The Recluse. 103 tention, never rudely to interrupt his train of thought, but gradually to steal it away from the contemplation of the object of his regret, by seeming to indulge its natural propensity while it was insensibly led into the path of universal beneficence; ,which is, in all cases, the most soothing sensation to the human mind that it ever can indulge. My respect for the man was thus exalted to the highest pitch: though he appeared only in the humble station of a servant, I contemplated him with a kind of veneration as a superior being. I com- plimented him not; but my behaviour spoke to his soul more powerfully than any words could have done, md we mutually felt a kind of involuntary esteem for jach other. While Thomas was absent (after having opened the larp window, and disposed every thing properly for :he state of the weather), observing that the morning #as far advanced, he had prepared breakfast for me, md had just come out to invite me to it, when I per- ceived him at my elbow as I recovered from my ec- static reverie. He now politely invited me to the louse to take breakfast. I felt, whenever he men- ioned it, that it was full time for that repast, so I cheerfully accepted his invitation. He conducted me nto a neat parlour, with a cheerful fire, and poured ne out a dish of excellent chocolate; he would have ;tood and served me, but I insisted on his taking a seat and breakfasting along with me. The toast was excellent, my appetite was awake, so that I made a most itarty breakfast; nor let the pretty boarding-school nifses faint, when they are told, that, along with other :hings, the monster devoured no lefs than a couple of 104 The Recluse. the finest new laid eggs, which I have ever held to be the most delicate morsel, as well as the most light and nourishing food that this island produces. You may, if you please, Mr. Editor, insert this egg remark by way of parenthesis; but what follows may go into the body of your work. When I came first into the parlour, I could not help remarking a little black kind of dog lying in the corner; it came up to Thomas, and fawned upon him, but in a manner peculiar to itself: its whole appear- ance struck me as being somewhat odd; it seemed to be a species of terrier of a particular kind that I had never seen; but, as it retired to its bed on receiving a signal from Thomas, I did not then advert to it more. Every time it moved, however, my attention was drawn to that side, and I could not help looking at it from time to lime with a kind of increasing curiosity. Thomas, observing me, asked if I knew what sort of creature that was, and, calling it by the name of Diver, it came immediately to him. I looked at it with more attention, but could not make out what sort of a creature it was, though I now observed that what I took to be cropped ears, were natural short ears only, uncropped, and that its toes were webbed, and it had something in the appearance of its eyes that was very unusual. I asked if it was not some kind of dog. " No, sir," said he, "it is an otter, an animal which, though a native of this country, I conclude you have never before seen." I acknowledged this to be the case, and asked how he had got it. " One morning," said he, " as I went towards the village, I came up with a boy who was carrying it in his hat, The Recluse. 105 while it was yet very young, being no bigger than a puppy of a week old; he said he had caught it by the side of a brook which runs in yonder hollow, about half a mile from this place; he had found great diffi- culty in preventing it from making its escape, for it was very active, and struggled hard to regain its li- berty; it had even snapped at his fingers, and bit him pretty sharply, so that he was by this time almost tired of his prize, and I had no difficulty in prevailing on him to part with it for half a crown. I knew it to be a young otter, having seen one before; and, having heard that these animals might be easily tamed, and that they become in that state very amusing, I con- ceived it might be made in some way interesting to my master; so home I brought it. I put it into a dark place in a warm bed, where it could meet with no disturbance. I had some difficulty to prevail upon it to fake any food at the first; but, having left it for a considerable while till it became very hungry, I then took a little milk into my mouth, and, holding its body between my knees, and opening its mouth with my hands, as I had seen a shepherd do to weakly lambs, I put a little of the milk into its mouth, and, allowing it to swallow it, gave it some more. Having tasted the milk, it revived, and soon came to lap it by itself; I then gave it some bread with its milk, and so on, supplying it with bits of meat, or fish, till it soon came to eat of any thing, almost like a dog. It soon learned to follow me, and, having found its way into the parlour, it attracted my master's notice, who took great pleasure in feeding it, and, finding it docile and playful, used to amuse himself at times with teaching 106 The Recluse. it various little tricks. Among others, it occurred to him to teach it to fetch and carry any thing that might chance to be at hand, which it soon became habituated to do with great dexterity and alacrity; it being always taught to bring the object it was sent for, and lay it down at the person's feet who ordered it. Among other articles, it occurred to me one day as I was coming from the pond with some fish that I had caught for dinner, to try to make Diver fetch one of the fish to me, which I threw away in the usual man- ner, desiring him to bring it. This he readily did, and laid it down at my feet. I repeated the experi- ment often, and accustomed him always to hold it so lightly, as not to pierce it with his teeth. I then thought it might perhaps be pofsible to teach it to fetch live fish; so, having taken a few small perch with the net, I put them into a vefsel among water ; then, taking out one of these, I shewed it to him, and threw it a little way into the water, desiring him, as usual, to fetch it. He immediately sprang into the pond, and, seizing the fish before it had quite reco- vered itself, brought it back in his mouth in triumph, and laid it down at my feet. I found the perch had been so little crushed, as to have sustained no material injury; so I took it up, and put it into the vefsel among the others : then taking another perch, I threw it into the pond after the same manner, when Diver immediately followed it, and brought that also safe to me. While I was busied about this diversion, my master came up, and, having asked what I was about, I told him, and repeated the experiment before him. lie was mightily pleased with it, and amused himself The Recluse. 107 for a considerable time at this kind of diversion; then desiring that the live fishes might be reserved for an- other occasion, he left it for that day : he went next day to the pond himself, and repeated the experiment under a variety of forms. Among other variations, instead of throwing the fish into the water, he first allowed Diver to smell at it in his hand, without per- mitting him to touch it there in any way, and then putting it into the water, gently opened his hand so as to give it freedom; Diver all this while looking at it steadfastly. When it began to swim away, Diver was ordered to fetch it. He immediately sprang into the water, and, keeping his eye upon it, pursued it till he came up with it ; then diving down he caught it, brought it out, and laid it at his feet. In this way my master would sometimes amuse himself for hours to- gether; for the creature itself seemed to be so much pleased with the sport, as to get into high spirits, which was very attractive to him. Diver became in a short time so fond of the sport, that whenever we came near to the pond he would frisk about, exprefs- ing his pleasure by a great many awkward gesticula- tions. At length, however, we became tired of catch- ing fish for his amusement, and he in vain tried to allure us to the sport. One day, while he was thus importuning me after his own way, I threw into the pond a stone that I had accidentally taken up; Diver immediately swam to the place at which it had alighted, where diving, he continued for some time below wa- ter, and then came to the top, bringing a large carp in triumph in his mouth, which he laid down at my feet as usual: this instantly suggested the idea of em- 108 The Recluse. ploying him to fish for the table, and ever since that day Diver has been employed to catch a dish of fish whenever they are wanted. When those he catches are too small, or of the kind that are not wanted, they are immediately returned to the pond, and he is prevented from following them; but when they are of the right size or sort, they are shewn to him, and kept while he is ordered again into the water. By dint of re- peated lefsons, he has now learned to xmderstand our signals, so that we have little difficulty in employing him for getting a dish of any kind of fish we want, whenever we are so inclined. You may easily be- lieve," continued Thomas, " that Diver soon became a favourite, and has contributed not a little to steal the mind of my master from those gloomy thoughts that for some years kept entire pofsefsion of his mind; and he thus fell imperceptibly into a train of amusements that restored him, in some measure, to the full use of the animal functions, by giving him a kind of society independent of any intercourse with mankind. But," said Thomas, observing that I had now finished break- fast, " if you are not yet tired of these strange oddities, and wish to see the whole curiosities of this place, I have some others yet to shew you, which, I doubt not, from what is past, will afford you sqme additional gra- tification." Saying this, he called Diver to follow him, and we took our departure for another ramble through this bewitching place. Here, however, Mr. Editor, I suppose I must give you a little time to breathe; but, for your comfort, allow me to tell you, that all I shall have occasion to say farther of this place will, I think, be concluded iu The Recluse. log one other communication, of not greater length, as I conjecture, than the present. I had, indeed, some idea, at one time, of perhaps giving you, upon a future oc- casion, an account of the other characters concerned in this drama; but I find I have been anticipated by some person who has got the start of me, and who has done it 4n a very genteel, easy manner, in a neat little vo- lume, entitled, the Village Orphan, a work which has made its appearance since I began these lucubrations, and which fell into my hands by accident very lately, I had no idea, till I looked into the book, that it con- tained the same story that I had heard with so much surprise related by the simple villagers in the ale- house. I give the writer of that little history credit for the pleasing manner in which he has narrated se- veral incidents that did not come to my knowledge, and am satisfied the public will lose nothing by having it taken out of my hands. As good luck would have it, the circumstances that have chiefly attracted my at- tention have been pafsed very lightly over by the writer of that narrative. The old gentleman has been the principal object of my attention during the time of his solitary retreat from the world. The younger members of this family are the persons who make the most conspicuous figure in that interesting little his- tory. TIMOTHY tf AIRBRAIN. 110 Hcracl'itus. The Editor has no objection to a little playful satire, under whatever drefs the author shall think proper to present it. On this account he readily gives the following jeu d'tsprit a place, as an introduction to something of still greater importance. Some of his readers may pofsibly. think that the author has handled his tools with a greater degree of gentlenefs than was necefsary, which makes the imprefsion lefs keen than they could wish j and in this opinion the editor would in some measure concurj for he thinks the frivolity of the age might authorize a broader laugh, and the fashionable vices a more pointed expofure, than this writer hath chofen to give them : but this is, perhaps, the safe side for a beginner to err on. He who sets out on a race at the full extent of the speed of his horse, runs a risk of giving up before he reaches the goal, and he who lashes too keenly at first, only disgusts those he wishes to reform} but when he begins a great deal within the compafs of his power, and increases his speed as he gets on, he then becomes an interesting object to ever}' spectator, and obtains at last, to the satisfaction of every one, the laurel for which he contended. To the Editor of Recreations in Literature, &c. Ridentem dicere verum Quidvetat? HOR. SIR, As you must be very desirous, in the com- mencement of a work like yours, not only to profit by the advice, but by the afsistance of persons who have been concerned in providing for the public taste, I Heraclitus. 1 1 1 have taken the liberty to make an humble tender of my services, and flatter myself that, when you come to know a little more of me, you will be proud of such a coadjutor. If you wish to know who I am, and what I can do, I must describe myself in the language of my friends, who never fail to introduce me as a fellow " who knows every thing and every body." Now, sir, as you profefsedly set apart some portion of your work for miscellaneous amusement, whom can you engage more likely to supply your purposes than one of my general knowledge, and, to use a modern phrase, notoriety ? In descending to particulars, it behoves me to say what I cannot do, as well as what I can : and first, sir, I shall not interfere with any of those valuable cor- respondents who discufs agricultural subjects. My continual residence in the city of London will ever check any conceited opinion I may form on that branch of science. Indeed the state of agriculture in London has been so much on the decay of late years as to dis- courage any student who wishes to gain information at a small expence or trouble. We must now ride five miles every way from town before we can arrive at a field or meadow where we may enjoy a walk, and al- though we still have a great many gardens, if we leave out Coven t-garden, there are none of them which ex- hibit any productions of the earth except bricks. The growth of houses, I must confefs, has been encouraged very much; but as to corn, hay, or grass, we must be content to view them in books, or recollect what they were in our young days. Nor, sir, shall I very much interfere with natural- 112 Heraclitus. history, for in a metropolis like ours the productions of nature, if they do happen to arrive among us, are soon so metamorphosed by art as to be lost in the ge- neral crowd. To vegetables I have already hinted \ve pay little attention, and lefs to animals; but there is one branch, minerals, which is yet very much an ob- ject of study even in the heart of the metropolis. Lec- tures are regularly given every day in a large building in Threadneedle-street upon that subject, and we fre- quently hear of many ingenious pupils who, by the force of accumulation only, have been able to turn silver into gold; and I am told that a very clever per- son at the west end of the town has lately discovered vast mines of the precious metals, which he intends to work for the benefit of the public, on condition of being allowed ten per cent, for his immediate ex- pences. But these, sir, are not the matters upon which I should wish to correspond with you. Do you want a person well acquainted with the manners and fashions of the day? I am your man. Would you wish to in- crease your recreations occasionally by a little of that kind of news which some fastidious people, I know not why, have termed scandal ? There I can supply you. Would you desire to give intimation of a snug crim. con. before it has been blown upon by the newspapers? I will furnish you, before ever a proctor of the com- mons or a lawyer in the king's bench has touched a guinea. I have a rare faculty in scenting out fashion- able frailties, and have often been retained by the pa- pers as a giver of first-rate hints. So lucky, indeed, have I been in this trade, that the editors of our most Heraclltus. 113 fashionable papers would at any time sacrifice half a delate, or a murder, to one of my surmises; and would take more pains to decypher my dashes and asterisks, than if the fate of Europe hung upon the discovery. And although I have fixed my residence in the metro- polis, to be at hand to watch the iniquities of winter) the parties are not one whit safer by carrying their faux pas to a distance. I can bring an interview from Brighton faster than any mail coach, and will give the particulars of a conversation on the esplanade at Wey- mouth with more accuracy than the parties who were present. This, indeed, is a talent peculiar to men of my genius; nor would a modish slip be worth talking about, were it not to be prefaced and fitted out for the public eye by us, " with new scenes, dresses, and de- corations." Mere dry details will not answer in such cases; we must give the subject a dramatic turn, and by the additions of tender dialogue and sentiment, trick out a bit of simple crim. co?i. in such a manner that the seventh commandment could not know it, if it was to see it. In addition to this, and indeed as a necefsary con- necting branch, you will no doubt be glad to hear of what Hymeneal treaties are on the tapis. I am a to- lerable hand at them too. One does not, to be sure, succeed quite so often in this way, as you may per- ceive by the papers, where out of a dozen treaties of marriage, you may think it lucky if only one arrives at the definitive article. But, neverthelefs, these are mat- ters which every one wishes to know somewhat about; and it is a great happinefs that, whether well or ill- founded, they administer the same supply of conver- VOL. I. h 114 Heradilns. sation, and the same opportunity for the discufsion of those things which every one in genteel life ought to be well acquainted with, namely, character, person, fortune, and expectations. From the same sources of information, I am enabled to give your readers a tolerable insight into the nfys- teries of the gaming-table; explain how it is that, al- though every body loses, nobody allows that they have won* Connected with this, you may learn how it comes about that a faro table is benefited by sacred music, and that many divorces have taken their rise from Sunday concerts. You shall hear of what ser- vice a band of music is in the playing so silent a game as whist; and perhaps you will recollect a similar use in the drum employed during a battle, " not only to raise a momentary courage, but to drown the cries and groans of the wounded and dying." As to duels, you will, no doubt, see it expedient to be better acquainted than the public in general are with such matters. Having long studied the laws of honour, I can at once see where the affront began, and, having many opportunities of information em- bellished as aforesaid, I can frequently give you the very words that pafsed, and can weigh the courage of the parties on the ground with a scrupulous nicety, which will shew you that I do not stick at little things. I have likewise made considerable progrefs in ascer- taining the seat of honour, a great desideratum in mo- dern times; for this purpose I have kept an exact re- gister of duels for the last ten years, their primary causes, symptoms, and the termination of the disorder. These amount to nearly one hundred, which have been Heraclitus. 115 fought in Ireland arid other parts of Europe, and nine- teen of them I find were occasioned by a horse or a woman, the former often one of the best of the species, the latter generally one of the very worst. Hence, al- though I am not yet prepared to draw a conclusion, my reasoning has been sensibly affected, by observing how frequently honour vibrates between the stable and the bed-room. As to the quantum of honour in our days, it appears that, like other articles which every man thinks he can manufacture, it has lefs strength and durability than formerly; and therefore I presume it is, that it very seldom produces any fatal effects. I am aware, however, that some attribute this to the weaknefs of our eyes, and some to the badnefs of our powder, a question which I shall not at present discufs j but conclude with informing you, that I have the most accurate information respecting revolutions in drefs; am thought a very good judge of the rise and fall of waists; and can, with a glance, trace the history of a cap from St. Vincent's to Camperdown, and from Camperdown to the bay of Aboukir; but, lest you should think me rather too promising a correspondent, I am sir, your humble servant, HERACLITUS. 110 Mr. Forsyth's Discoveries. Farther Particulars respecting Mr. Forsyth's Mode of managing Fruit Trees. [Continued from page 80.] AGREEABLE to my promise, I now resume the subject of Mr. Forsyth's operations on fruit trees j and in doing this, I am happy to be abk to an- nounce to my readers, that the public may now rely with certainty on having Mr. Forsyth's own treatise on the management of trees with all con- venient speed ; for he has assured me, in the most serious manner, that nothing but want of health shall prevent him from forwarding it with all the dispatch he is able. It will therefore be unnecessary for me to do more at present than to give a hasty sketch of some of the leading features of his practice, leaving the particular explanations, which alone can direct another to employ it to advantage, to be given by himself. I shall only add, that after having seen,. and particularly adverted to the effects of his ope- rations, and compared them with the practice of many who have had opportunities of profiting by it, my regret that it should not have been made more pub- licly known could only be equalled by my astonishment at the apathy of persons who have opportunities of being convinced by the testimony of their own senses, of the very great benefits they might reap by adopting a similar practice, and yet neglect to do it. I have seen a small vinery, of four lights only, which has been managed after Mr. Forsyth's method, and which contains in it at this moment more clusters of grapes than would be afforded by an hundred lights in some Time for amputating Trees. 117 vineries otherwise managed, that I could point out at the present moment. Hudibras long ago has said, Th' intrinsic value of a thing Is as much money as 'twill bring. We might with equal justice say, What's got for nothing is worth nothing thought ; That's only valu'd which is dearly bought. In amputating fruit trees the operations must be varied according to the strength of the tree. If it be very far gone, and scarcely able to put out any shoots, it ought to be headed as low down as pofsible, and only very few buds allowed to send out shoots. If, on the contrary, it be strong, it may be cut over above the place where the branches set out, in order to give room for a number of shoots proportioned to the strength of the tree. If there be any young shoots be- low the place where the amputation is made, these ought to be carefully preserved, as you will thus sooner have fruit from it. The wounds should be all cut smooth over, the edges rounded off with a sharp knife, all dead wood cut out to the quick, and the whole covered over immediately with the salve. The best time for performing this operation is after the sap is flowing freely, and the buds pretty well swelled; but never in winter nor autumn. A weakly tree, if cut over in autumn, will infallibly die ; even a strong one will make much weaker shoots than it would have done if cut while in sap. Here we discover the use of the salve. All trees are weakened by bleed- ing if cut over in sap and left unprotected; many of them die entirely: by using Mr. Forsyth's salve this evil 1 1 8 Trees should le kept low, is obviated. _ Under the protection of this ointment he is at liberty to amputate even at Midsummer: in general, where there is any appearance of fruit upon a tree that he means to cut down, Mr. Forsyth would de- fer the operation till after the fruit is set. If the crop be puny, he would then cut it down. If the crop be worth its room, defer it till another year. Mr. Forsyth always wishes to keep fruit trees as low as possible, and of course prefers those that are called dwarfs, to standards. If a tree of that kind has sent out bending branches very near the ground, he thinks it a favourable subject to work upon, as he can have numerous shoots upon it without crowding it too much. His great object is to obtain strong shoots, and these he always leaves at their whole lengths (I am here to be understood as speaking of standards). If these are sufficiently strong and healthy, k frequently happens, that apples of many sorts, and some kinds of pears, carry some fruit the first year after they are cut over; the second year they have usually a good deal of fruit, and they are in full bearing the third year. It is by no means an unusual thing to gather from one to two thousand ripe pears or apples from one tree on the third year after it has been cut over. For table fruit Mr. Forsyth would never wish the tree to be higher than that he could gather it by hand, by merely bending down the stems j the fruit can thus not only be obtained in greater perfection than where it cannot be conveniently reached, but the tree is thus also better sheltered from wind, and can be much easier protected from frosts than when very high. a?id vigorous. 119 When the trees get higher, and the stems become bigger than he wishes for, he cuts some of them clean out, leaving other shoots to spring up to supply their place. In this way the tree is kept always in perfect health, with young vigorous wood, and in full bear- ing ; the fruit too is in this way always of the very best quality. In planting young fruit trees, especially upon a wall, he would plant them much closer upon each other than is common ; thus does he get the full use of his wall very soon : when they come to be too close upon each other, he removes the supernumerary trees from the wall, and plants them out as standards : nothing can answer better than such trees. In two years after transplanting they are usually in full bearing, and form the finest trees that can be imagined. This he does with apples, pears, plums, and cherries, all of which succeed equally well. The jargonelle, L'Echas- serie, and the Chaumontelle pears, he has observed, (the jargonelle especially,) do much better as standards than upon the wall. Some of the best pears, however, cannot be made to bear but on a wall. Much valu- able information Mr. Forsyth will be able to commu- nicate respecting the best mode of training and prun- ing the finest kinds of pears ; for he finds that almost every kind of pear requires a particular mode of ma- nagement to throw it into full fruit. It were, indeed, much to be regretted that practical rules, which have been the result of more than forty years continued ob- servation, by a man whose attention is never asleep, should be lost to the world. I trust that will not now be the case. 120 On the Vine, In no particular does Mr. Forsyth's management appear to greater advantage than in respect to the vine; for it is at the same time so simple, when compared with the practice of others, and so certain in regard to its effects, as to afford, perhaps, a solitary specimen of what I should denominate perfect management in ru- ral affairs. It must be observed, that I here speak of the treatment of the vine, when it is to be trained upon walls, or in houses; for in this country our climate does not permit them to be reared, in general, upon standards, as is customary in wine countries; so that that mode of rearing the vine is to be considered as entirely out of the question. The first object he aims at in this, as in regard to every other fruit tree, is to get strong and healthy wood ; when he has once obtained that, the businefs goes on like clock-work ever after. With that view he cuts down an old vine (if he gets the management of such) by degrees, quite close to the ground, leaving some shoots in the meantime to carry fruit till the young shoots come up. In the first year after such pruning, if only a proper number be left, these young shoots will run on an average from twenty to thirty feet in length. These strong shoots run entirely to wood, and seldom carry any fruit the year they are produced. He takes great care to let these run out to their whole length, without topping them, or checking their growth in the smallest degree; for, should they be cut over at top, if they be sufficiently vigorous, it will make them send out shoots that season, which infallibly ^vill pre- vent them from carrying any fruit next_year. From the same consideration he wishes to shun laying them On the Vine. 121 in horizontally that season, because this also has a ten- dency to encourage lateral shoots. Let us suppose, then, that these shoots have been trained to their whole length, perfectly free from laterals, and are about the thicknefs of a man's finger, and from twenty to thirty feet in length, he would deem these proper shoots, and such as every skilful vine- raiser can always produce after his trees have attained full vigour; he would then consider the wood to be just what it ever ought to be. In that case, if he had such shoots all along the bottom of the wall, from six- teen to eighteen inches from each other, it would be precisely to his mind; he would then, at the winter pruning, cut out the whole of the old wood, with all the branches springing from it, down to the lowest eye he could find; and when it began to show its buds in the spring, he would nib off the whole that made their appearance, except one of the strongest he could observe that sprung up between each of the two strong shoots that had pushed up last year. These eyes are intended to form similar shoots this season, and ought to be managed precisely in the way the former years wood-shoots were managed. At the time these old stems are cut down, the strong upright shoots from the ground, above described, should be unnailed, and carefully examined towards the top; you will then observe, that several joints near the top consist of raw unripened wood, more or lefs, according as the season has been favourable or the reverse, with eyes lefs plump than below. The shoot in this part of it, instead of being round and firm, appears to be somewhat flatted. All this raw flatted part of the shoot, but no more, 122 On the Vine. being then cut off, it should be immediately nailed to the wall. As shoots thus trained, even after they are pruned, will do more than reach to the top of most walls, if laid in quite perpendicularly, it will be ad- visable to lay them in either diagonally, or, what answers the same purpose, let it be waved from side to side in a serpentine manner from bottom to top. In either case the uppermost eye should reach to within one foot, or little more, of the top of the wall. Of all the directions that can be chosen for laying in the shoots of the vine, no one is so injudicious as placing them perpendicularly, because, in that case, there is always a tendency to produce a strong shoot at the top, which greatly weakens those below; this top shoot then runs away to wood, precisely at the place where wood can be of no use, and is the most troublesome to manage; and if the shoot has been vigorous, and a few eyes only are left, it runs all to wood, producing scarcely any fruit at all. This evil tendency is, in part, prevented by leaving the shoot very long, where the eyes toward the top, being lefs full than those below, they send out shoots nearly of an equal strength with the others ; but the effect will be better if the stalk be also bent in the progrefs of its ascent. By being thus bent every eye will certainly push out next season a firm, though not over vigorous shoot, and all these shoots w;ll be nearly of an equal strength; so that, if the former Sea- son has been favourable for ripening the wood, you may reckon with great confidence on having two large clus- ters of blofsoms from each eye; for such a number of the shoots will have three bunches, as to make up for those that have only one. These fruit-bearing shoots ought On the Vine. 123 to be laid in on each side the stem, their points beino- allowed to run upwards. Thus is the wall equally filled with fruit through its whole extent, from the very bot- tom to the top, without any vacancy whatever; and the large leaves which push out every where afford to the clusters that rich kind of shelter which alone can bring the fruit to a due size and proper maturity. There is lefs occasion to be nice about the manage- ment of these fruit-bearing shoots, after they have pushed a few eyes beyond_the fruit, than about the wood- shoots. The tops of the former may, indeed, be nipped off after they have got four or five eyes be- yond the fruit, not only without occasioning any mis- chief, but sometimes even with advantage. If the shoots be properly tacked to the wall from time to time, so as to prevent them from dangling down too much, and the fruit guarded from birds and wasps when it becomes nearly ripe, nothing more is required. At the winter pruning, those stems which carried the fruit-bearing branches, with the whole of the branches that sprang from them, should be cut out, leaving no more than two eyes at the bottom of each, one of which should be rubbed off after you see them free from danger of being accidentally displaced, so as to leave only one shoot to come in the following year, as before. Thus you may go on for ever, cutting down every shoot after it has once borne fruit, having another fresh shoot pre- pared to lay in its stead next year, precisely in the same way that nature performs with regard to rasp- berries. The management of vines in a house is conducted pn the same principles. There are small deviations 1 24 Migration of the Beluga. from this general plan that must be adopted to make it suit particular purposes, but these I cannot at pre- sent specify; a person, however, who understands the general principle, will find no difficulty in adapting it to every case that can possibly occur; yet these parti- culars will no doubt be explained by Mr. Forsyth, for the benefit of those multitudes who either cannot or will not draw an obvious inference from the plainest facts. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. On the Migration of Fishes. Natura nusquam magis quam in minimis tota. PLIN. THE Beluga (Acipenser Huso, Linn.) though pro- perly an inhabitant of the Black Sea, at particular seasons of the year enters the principal rivers that dis- embogue themselves into it; and is frequently caught as high as Presburg, or at a distance of not fewer than five hundred German miles from the mouth of the Danube. What induces this animal to desert its na- tive element, and to contend with the current in a passage of this extent, has been long a matter in dis- pute. We can hardly imagine that these expeditions are undertaken merely as parties of pleasure ; and that they are not performed solely for the purpose of spawn- ing, is evident, for at the commencement of the mi- gratory season the rivers abound in shoals of young fish incapable of propagating their kind. On further examination it seems not improbable^ Migration of the Beluga. 123 that the Beluga quits the sea with a design of dis- lodging certain vermin that infest his body; for if at the period when these fish enter the rivers, their skin be inspected with a microscope, a number of animalcula, scarcely visible to the naked eye, and not larger than the mites of cheese, may be discerned on the top and fore part of the head. When the head is tickled under these circumstances, the fish remains at rest, and appears pleased. May not their propen- sity to swim against the stream, which performs a like friendly office, be accounted for by the irritation caused by these insects ? and is it not probable that fresh water is injurious to the constitution of the ani- malcula, as they all die before the fish return to the sea? Vid. TAUBE Beschreilung von Slavonien, I. 29. The migrations of salmon are probably dependent on the same cause; for Mr. Pennant remarks, that when salmon first enter fresh water, they are observed to have abundance of insects adhering to them, espe- cially above the gills. These are the Lerncece sal- monece of Linnaeus, and are signs that the fish are in high season. These animals drop off soon after the o l salmon have left the sea. British Zoology, III. 288. Thus does Providence commission a reptile, appa- rently of the meanest order, to provide for the neces- sities of man, and to establish, by conducting them to his haunts, his controul over the inhabitants of the ocean ! Quapropter quceso, ne nostra legentes relata fastidio damnent, cum in contemplations natures nihil possit videri supervacuum. PL IN. N. H. XI. i. E. H. 126 On Mouldiness. The above, there is every reason to believe, is a fair account of the migrations of the Beluga. With regard to salmon, the fact stated is perfectly correct as far as it goes ; but, to make the history of that ani- mal in this respect complete, it ought to be observed, that, after the salmon has been for some time in fresh water, another species of vermin seize upon it; which, when they acquire strength, become so exceedingly troublesome in their turn, that the poor creature is compelled to return to the sea again, where they die, and it thus obtains a temporary respite. But this state of ease is of short duration ; the sea-lice quickly seize upon him, and make him betake himself once more to the river. In this manner is the poor animal driven backwards and forwards like a weaver's shuttle, by these persecuting insects, during the whole course of its life. Editor. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. SIR, I HAVE read the first number of your work, and have been both entertained and instructed by it. The article on crystallizations in particular attracted my attention, as it contains many hints that suggested ideas to my mind which never before had occurred to it, some of which I beg leave to commu- nicate to you, with a view to obtain farther informa- tion, either from yourself, or some of your ingenious correspondents, if you shall deem this worthy of a place in some future number of your work. On Mouldiness. 127 You have justly remarked, that it is extremely diffi- cult, on many occasions, to distinguish one clafs of bodies with precision from another; and you have taken notice in the efsay to which I have alluded, that icy crystallizations on some occasions afsume the appearance of beautiful vegetable foliage, a phenome- non that all your readers must have occasionally re- marked. Other crystallizations resemble vegetables not only in their gradual augmentation in size, but in the shape and configuration of parts, of which what has been called the philosophical tree, produced by a solution of silver, is a noted example. But the idea which most forcibly struck my mind at the time of reading your efsay, was the great resem- blance between the spicule of ice on plants when in the form of hoar frost, and those white incrustations that cover in a short time the surface of leather, and many other substances when in a damp situation, which is commonly called mould, or mouldinefs. Phi- losophers in the present day, if I mistake not, inva- riably afsign all these kinds of incrustations to the clafs of vegetables. It occurs to me that many of these may, with more probability, belong to the clafs of or- ganic crystallizations, totally devoid of any kind of vegetable life. Hoar frost is evidently a mere watery congelation, which makes its appearance only under certain peculiar circumstances. That mouldinefs on walls which often makes its appearance soon after they have been plastered, especially where the lime has been *laked with sea water, is evidently a saline exudation, the crystals of which afsume that hairy-like form; why may not the mouldinefs that so quickly makes its ap- 128 On Mouldiness. pearance on a pair of old boots or shoes be owing to a similar exudation of the oily substances that have been worked into the leather, afsuming a similarly or- ganic appearance? Till this question be satisfactorily answered, I think there is reason to hesitate about giving that implicit faith to the received opinion, that all kinds of mouldinefs are mere vegetable productions only. That some kinds of mouldinefs are so, will not be denied. Like, according to the old adage, is a bad mark of distinction; and in this case it applies in a particular manner. I have seen many sparry incrus- tations that had much the appearance of vegetables j and I had once in my pofsefsion a large piece of cal- careous stalactite which so exactly resembled the head of a cauliflower, that if it had been presented at table among real cauliflowers, it could scarcely have been distinguished from them. There are many appearances in nature of a mineral kind, which, I am afraid, we too hastily think are of animal or vegetable origin, because, upon a general view, they resemble some well known substances of these clafses. I have seen a limestone in Ireland, In which is found imbedded great quantities of silicious matter, which, on a general appearance, so much re- semble fragments of animal bones, that I never saw a person who doubted that they were actual bones lapidified', and I thought so myself, because the re- semblance to certain parts and articulations of bones is surprisingly exact. Yet, upon a nearer examina- tion, I found this was all a deception, as none of these stones could be found that bore an exact resemblance, in all its parts, to any bone of any animal whatever. Mechanics. 129 Since I remarked this, I have had no opportunity of examining the bones in the rock of Gibraltar. I sus- pect that many substances which are called petrefac- tions of wood, and other vegetables, especially those of the siliceous cast, may be of a similar nature; but on this head I am not prepared to speak with pre- cision. I shall be glad to see this subject farther adverted to by those who have more knowledge of the matter than can be laid claim to by A YOUNG INQUIRER. Loose Hints on the Mode of applying Wood in the most economical Manner for rural and domestic Purposes. THOSE properties of wood which result from its particular form are well understood by the philoso- phical mechanicians in this country; so that in the higher branches of mechanics we find strength very commonly combined withneatnefs, and little superfluous matter needlefsly expended; but the implements which are in common use among the people every where, those especially that are employed for the moving of goods from place to place, are for the most part constructed on principles so directly the reverse of those of true mechanism, that they cannot fail to excite astonish- ment in the minds of all who attentively consider them; for they are too often so contrived as to be at the same time weak and clumsy. From these considerations it is our intention to suggest a few hints, tending to VOL. I. 1 130 Mechanics. show in what manner wood employed in building and in constructing carts and waggons, gates and rails, and for other common purposes of life, may be so ap- plied as to be both light and strong, and to answer the purposes intended much better than those in com- mon use at present, with an immense saving of ma- terials and of expense. In doing this I shall not have occasion to explain any principle in mechanics that has not been long known and adopted, but merely to show in what manner these established principles may be so applied as to suit the various cases with economy. If a rod of wood, a piece of deal for example, of any determinate length, and one inch square, be just able to sustain a weight of one stone, or pound, and no more, then if a piece of the same deal, of a homo- geneous texture throughout [and this must be under- stood in all that follows] of the same length, one inch thick, and two inches broad, be laid with its flat side uppermost, it will support two stones and no more. If the deal be of the same length and thicknefs, but three inches broad, it will support three; if four inches broad, four ; and so on for any breadth it will support just as many stones weight as it is inches in breadth, and no more, while it continues in this position. But if the position of this deal be altered, so that its thin edge be placed uppermost, every body knows that it will then be able to support a much greater weight, even without bending, than would have broken it out- right in its former position. In the former case we have seen that its power increased in an arithmetical ratio in proportion to its breadth; that is to say, if its breadth was 1, 6, or 12 inches, its power was also 1, 6, Mechanics* 131 or 1 2 .respectively ; but when it stands with its edge uppermost, if its breadth were as before, 1, 6, or 12, it has been ascertained by many experiments that its power in these cases would be 1, 36> 144 ; that is to say, its power increases as the square of its depth, which is called a geometrical ratio ; 2 inches deep is of course 4 ; for 2 times 2 is 4 ; 6 times 6 is 36 ; and 12 times 12 is 144. Thus it appears, that in this case the same quantity of materials possesses a power, when in one position, that is exactly twelve times greater than it would do in another. The reader will please to take notice in this case> that a very small addition to the breadth makes a very great one to the power. For although we have seen that the power of one inch, when taken by itself, is only as one ; yet if one inch more in breadth be added to twelve, its power in that case will be as 25; foiM2 times 12 is only 144; and 13 times 13 is 169: so that one inch of wood, when added to 12 more, has 25 times the power it would have had when separate. Nor is this all; the proportion of this power continues to augment with the depth: one inch added to 13 is more than 25, and so on, every inch added giving a greater proportional power; so that if the deal were 24 inches broad, add one inch more, so as to make it 25 broad, and it would be able, in this case, to carry 49 stones more than before, 25 inches broad being able to carry 625 stones, whereas if it had been -laid flat it could have carried no more than 25. Here then we obtain a power of carrying 600 stones without the addition of a single ounce of materials, but merely from an alteration in its position. i 2 132 Mechanic*. I might proceed in the same manner to show, that if the breadth were increased to 36 inches, we should obtain a power of carrying 1260 stones without any additional materials ; but this is unnecessary, as every reader, from what has been already said, can satisfy himself as to this particular whenever he chooses to make the calculation ; for the power in the one case is always as the breadth simply, and in the other case it is as the square of that breadth. A necessary conse- quence of this is, that a flatted beam is very weak in proportion to its weight; that a square one is stronger; that a deep one is stronger still, and that its power is invariably greater the deeper it is in proportion to its thicknefs. It is hoped that my learned readers will pardon these (to them) tiresome details j but as it is obvious that the plain consequences of the change of position abovft described are not sufficiently adverted to by our me- chanics in general, it is a clear indication that these truths require to be more deeply impressed on the public mind than they hitherto have been ; so that, however tiresome well informed men may think it, they will admit that it is not unnecefsary. I shall therefore hope to be excused for treating it in this manner. In laying rafters for houses, our forefathers often put in flat beams ; and in few cases did they make the depth to exceed the breadth, so that the best were only a square. We, in modern times, have somewhat improved upon their practice, as the joists now laid are usually in the proportion of three in depth to two in width 3 but we have stopped short too soon in this Mechanics. 133 kind of improvement; six to one would have been a much better proportion, as may be thus ascertained ; a joist four inches wide, and six deep, supposing one inch square to carry one stone as before, would bear exactly 144; for the first inch in breadth being six inches in depth, would carry 6 times 6, which is 36 ; which multiplied by 4, gives 144. But had it been 2 inches broad and 12 inches deep, it would then have carried 288, without any more wood than before; for being in this case 12 inches deep, the first inch in breadth will carry 12 times 12, which is 144, and that multiplied by two, gives 288. But had it been only one inch broad and 24 deep, it would carry a load of 576, instead of 144, without the smallest ad- dition to the quantity of materials. This is an addi- tion of four times its strength without any augmen- tation of materials. It is then a rule without any exception, that the deeper any piece of wood is, the greater weight would it support in propoition to the matter it contains, did not other circumstances set bounds to our pro- ceeding beyond a certain length in this progrefs ; the circumstances which limit our powers in this respect will next be adverted to. It has been stated above, that to render the result of these experiments infallible, the texture of the wood must be considered as perfectly homogeneous in every part; but this it is very difficult to find in large quan- tities beyond a very limited size. Wherever a knot occurs it weakens the wood, by breaking its conti- nuity of parts. But if the deal were very thin, and a knot running through a great part of it from the hot- 134 Mechanics. torn upward, that knot would cut it, as it were, in two, and thus diminish its strength very much. If the beam, however, were three or four times thicker, that knot could weaken a part of the beam only, without ex- tending over the whole breadth. It is therefore ex- tremely necefsary in all cases where you are to cut wood deep and thin with a view to obtain strength, to be particularly careful to choose wood that is perfectly free from knots, if it can pofsibly be had. Therefore the heart of a log ought always to be rejected for this purpose; and if any knots at all be perceived, the beam ought to be so placed as that these are on the upper rather than its und.er side, for there they will be far lefs hurtful, Where wood is to be exposed to the action of the air also unprotected, if it be cut into very thin slices it will be sooner weakened by the action of the air than if it were cut into square pieces; so that where it is expected to remain a long time, a thin slice of wood must be covered with oil paint to defend it from the air ; but before it can be painted in this way it must be smoothed by plaining, which, for rude works, is ex- pensive. Fortunately-} a substitute for oil paint has been lately discovered, which, for works of this kind, is far preferable to any kind of oil paint, not only be- cause it is much cheaper, but because it is also much more efficacious. This is coal tar, a substance which if applied hot upon wood on which the sun is acting at the time, penetrates into the matter of the wood itself, fills up every pore, and defends it much more effectually than any paint could do. It is therefore a yast acquisition to this country, though means have . Mechanics. 135 been devised, by some persons who have an interest to prevent it from coming into general use, so that it is at present but very little known. It is a fortunate circumstance that it can be efficaciously applied while the wood is yet unplained, which adds greatly to the value of this acquisition. We are therefore now at liberty to diminish the thicknefs of plank as far as in any case may be necefsary for any purpose, without being under apprehensions of rendering it very pe- rishable in the open air. I shall now therefore pro- ceed to show in what manner wood may be so applied for many common purposes of life, as to be much stronger and more durable than it commonly is, though with a much smaller quantity of wood than has usually been employed. When wood is cut into very thin and deep slices, as in deal, though it be strong when the pressure is applied to one edge, it is very weak when prefsed side- ways; therefore it is seldom cut into that form unlefs where several pieces are necessarily united together by something lying acrofs them like the deals of a floor, or the laths on a roof; wherever it is to be employed as a post, or for any other purpose where the prefsure may be applied in various directions, it is seldom thought possible to apply this principle to obtain strength with levity, though so many instances of this occur in the works of nature, that we have but to open our eyes in order to perceive it wherever we go. The pen with which I write affords a striking and a beautiful illustration of it. Had the whole quill been one mafs of solid matter, it would have been of a most insupportable weight, so as to have been almost wholly improper for the purpose intended: had the 136 Mechanics. whole of the matter of which it is formed been re- duced into one solid bar instead of a tvibe, it would not have pofsefsed, perhaps, one hundredth part of the strength it now has, so that it would on that ac- count have been equally ill fitted for the use for which it was made ; in its present form it pofsefses alike the strength and the lightnefs required. For the same reason the reeds of corn, and most other tall growing herbaceous plants, which have a weighty head to sup- port, are formed hollow, and are thus capable of sup- porting the ear, and bringing it to perfection, with- out any unnecefsary waste of matter. Thus also the young shoots of trees while in their soft and her- baceous state, those especially that shoot up very quickly, consist of a thin rind of firm woody fibres on the outside only, while the inside is filled with a spungy brittle matter called pith : thus is the diameter of the shoot greatly augmented in proportion to its solid contents, and the shoot is capable of making a much greater resistance than it otherwise could have done; but when by age the woody fibres have ac- quired a firmer consistence, the pith is gradually dimi- nished in size, till at last it becomes totally oblite- rated. This beautiful economy in a lefser or greater degree will be found to apply to every variety of vege- table as well as animal productions : for not only fea- thers, but those bones of all animals, which have their principal weight to support, are all made hollow. Why should not man attempt to imitate an economy he must admire in proportion to the degree of know- ledge he hath acquired, so as to be able to appreciate the amount of the power that is thus conferred upon the same quantity of brute matter ? Mechanics. 137 It is true, in regard to wood, which he must cut into pieces before he can fashion it into due form, that he cannot pretend to reduce it to the same forms that na- ture exhibits in her more perfect performances ; he must content himself here, as in all other cases, with a very imperfect imitation only of her operations. He cannot form a cylinder of wood of large dimensions, because of the difficulty of connecting together its parts; but for the purposes he wants, it can be effected for the most part by other forms. When he goes beyond the dimensions of the bamboo, the largest reed known, he must abandon the circular mode of augmenting the strength of matter ; but he needs not abandon the principle: he can make it a hollow square; in which case, upon the principle already stated, the same quantity of matter will be capable of much more resistance than if it had been in a solid form : but a more simple form than that of a square will answer his purpose still better, as will appear from the following considerations. If a deal were placed in an upright direction as a post, it would op- pose a great resistance one way, suppose from east to west ; but it would yield to a very small prefsure the other way, say from south to north : but if another deal be fixed upright also in an opposite direction, so as to stand at right angles with the former, that up- right would resist a great pressure from south to north, though it would easily yield if the prefsure were applied from east to west; let these deals be joined firmly together, and they are equally strong in all directions; for when the prefsure conies from one side, the edge of one of the deals resists it; when it comes in the other direction, the edge of the other 138 Mechanics. deal opposes it. Instead, then, of employing a square post of solid wood, let two thin pieces of wood be placed upright in this position; it a .. would have the same advantage as to |jj If. strength, as if a thin piece of wood were to be placed edgeways for resistance in any other case; for when the prefsure came in the direction a d, the edge of the deal A a would resist it; and when it came in the di- rection f g, the edge B would oppose the resistance. By increasing the breadth of these slices of wood, and diminishing the thicknefs, you will add to the strength of the post to any afsignable degree, without augment- ing the quantity of matter. Again, if a post be placed in the ground, so as to have one end of it firmly fixed there, let it be carried to any height you please, and a force be applied at the top to break it; the chief strefs in that case must be close at the earth. If it be made strong enough in that place, therefore, it will be perfectly firm, al- though the quantity of wood be diminished almost to nothing towards the top; but, in making square posts, it is a matter of so much difficulty to fashion it small at the top without losing entirely what is cut off", that in general it is found convenient to leave the post at top greatly thicker than is necefsary; so that in this way it usually happens that nearly the half of the whole quantity of wood employed is of no sort of use what- ever. In making posts, however, in the manner here proposed, this difficulty can be entirely removed with the greatest ease, so that there needs not be a single ounce of wood lost; but it may be so shaped as that the post shall be equally strong in every part of its length. The form in this case will necefsarily vary ia Mechanics. 139 proportion to the height of the post. To be mathe- matically exact, a calculation ought to be made for every particular case. It will not be expected that I should enter into the minutiae of these cases here; it is enough that I shew in what manner this may be easily effected in any circumstances that can pofsibly occur. Let us suppose, then, that a slip of wood be sawn down to the length of the post required, and of the breadth and thicknefs that shall be judged necefsary for the particular purpose required, as A D ; let it then be slit diago- nally from a )Lo b, so as to A I make a x e- qual to I o, and a y equal to I x; let a line p q be drawn, so as to make I q and q o equal, and a p equal to p y. Then place this board in the earth, with the thick end D sunk into the ground to the depth m n\ so that the line p q is perpendicular to the horizon ; it will then afsume the form and position N E, the ji ' .**! part F N being under ground, and that F E above ground; the parallel lines in both cases marking the reed of the wood. If the piece A has been previously fixed in a perpendicular direction to the mid- dle of the other, with the end A under- Tmost also, thus, and so placed in the earth, as that the middle line of that piece also stands perpendicular to the horizon; you then pi have a post equally strong as if two parallellograms A n m y had been join- 1 40 Mechanics. ed together, though little more than half the quantity of wood be contained in it. After this manner may be made a post that shall be equally strong, with a solid parallellogram of a square form, though it shall not contain one fourth, one tenth, or even one twen- tieth part of the materials employed in the other ; and if it be well done over with coal tar before it be put into the ground, or if it be made of larch wood, it will be more incorruptible, and last as long as a solid post. But though the benefit that will result from adopt- ing this fashion in regard to fixed works be considerable, yet it is nothing to that which is derived from it in the construction of carriages; for in the first case no- thing more is gained than the mere price of the quan- tity of materials that are saved ; but in the other case you have to add to this saving, what is of much greater importance, Ihe price of the transport of every pound weight, taken away from the materials, for every mile the carriage shall go during the whole time it shall last. Let us, for example, suppose that one carriage can be made equally strong with another, with a de- duction of half a ton weight of materials, and that the carriage should last till it had travelled fifty thousand miles; it is plain that in this case half a ton of goods could be carried in the light carriage more than in the heavy one, without the smallest additional load to the beasts. The owner, therefore, of this carriage will be able to put into his pocket the price of the transport of half a ton of goods for fifty thousand miles, a sum that would purchase his carriage, in most cases, more than twenty times over. From this view of the subject, it appears to be a matter of immense national conse- Correspondents. -141 quence to study lightnefs above all things in the con- struction of carriages. I shall think my time very well bestowed, if I can direct the public attention to this momentous subject; for if I can but succeed in this point, I shallhave no difficulty in proving that several millions of money might be saved every year in this nation on the single article of land carriage of goods, besides other benefits that would be a necef- sary consequence of this improvement ; I shall, there- fore, take an early opportunity of offering some farther observations on this subject. To Correspondents. Mira anxiously inquires whether poetry is to be en- tirely excluded from this miscellany. When this lady recollects that the profefsed aim of this work is to furnish an agreeable recreation to the mind, while it tends at the same time to inform the judgment and improve the heart, it seems to be scarcely necefsary to say that poetry will not be excluded; for it will not be con- tended that poetry is not capable of effecting these purposes. Many will perhaps alledge that poetry is indeed more likely to effect these purposes than prose; and, though they would find it difficult to persuade the Editor to concur in this opinion, he will readily admit that a small proportion of good poetry might rather tend to heighten than to counteract the general effect intended. He begs leave, however, carefully to dis- criminate between poetry and the mere art of rhiming, the last of which may be pofsefsed in great perfection 142 Correspondents. by those who have not the smallest idea of the former. An old J^ard, for so we shall at present suppose Rowley to have been, has justly said, that, Verse may be good, but poesie wants more. A string of rhimes, were they constructed with all the art and smoothnefs that the far-famed bard of Twick- enham ever attained, if they want the true poetic fire which warms the heart and steals the soul from the consciousnefs of any other sensation but that which the verse inspires, the Editor considers as nothing but laboured abortions of the brain. Pretty trifles they may sometimes be ; tinkling cymbals at the best, that may for a moment amuse, but leave no lasting im- pref&ion behind. In making such verses, the poet's rule, one verse for sense and one for rhime, may, perhaps, be admitted as excusable. Example: A wit's a feather, and a chief's a rod, An honest man's the noblest work of God. Or thus, A fox is cunning, ugly is a toad, An honest man's the noblest work of God, Or thus, Honour the king, wherever's his abode, An honest man's the noblest work of God. Or thus, Salute thy mistrels, give thy friend a nod, An honest man's the noblest work of God. Or thus, The needy feed, the weak free from his load, An honest man's the noblest work of God. Correspondents, t43 Or thus, Stately stept he east, and west he stately strode, An honest man's the noblest work of God. Or thus, Firm was his step while on this earth he trod, An honest man's the noblest work of God. Or thus, Sound sleeps the knight who lies beneath this sod, An honest man's the noblest work of God. Or thus, A lady's vain when she's drest a-la-mode. An honest man's the noblest work of God. Or thus, Join in one chorus, spread the sound abroad, An honest man's the noblest work of God. Thus might the meer rhimer when he has got one line, by torturing his empty brain make fellows to it ad infinilum : but what is the value of such things ? When a boy has by accident discovered that he can make couplets of this sort, he instantly dubs him- self a poet, collects together a number of pastoral names, as Chloe and Phillis, and Damon and Stre- phon, intermixes a few flames and darts with roses and lilies, and zephyrs and breezes, invokes the muses, or conjures up the whole race of heathen gods to his aid; if he soars to the height of sublimity, he may, perhaps, make bold with sylphs and fairies, and set them at work in twisting a lock, or distilling sun- beams from cucumbers, and then he cries out, Behold the beauty of the fabric that I have reared! Admire it, all ye nations ! Mark with what smoothnefs the num- 144 Correspondents. bers flow, even like oil upon the whetstone as the razor glides over its surface: observe how equal the feet, even as the bricks in the palace of St. James's. Let the poetaster have his due; the verse may be good, but poesie wants more. It is this more that the Edi- tor wishes to obtain. When such a thing shall fall in his way, he shall deem himself singularly fortunate; but it is not his intention to fill his pages with the ravings of bedlamites, or the sing-song prattle of chil- dren. The communication from T. is necefsarily post- poned. Julia's favour, the Rural Pillager, and several others are received, but too late for this month. The Editor has received several anonymous com- munications, containing a statement of facts, of the authenticity of several of which he is in some doubt. He cannot persuade himself that any person, moving in the sphere of a gentleman, could have the meanness to attempt to impose upon the public in this way ; lut as there are doubtless some persons so void of principle as to glory in what ought to make them ashamed, it lecomes a duty in him to guard against such imposi- tions. With that view he shall hope to lie pardoned if he shall in future decline to insert any communica- tion stating such facts, as are not otherwise well au- thenticated, unless the person on whose authority if must rest, shall think proper to declare his real name to the Editor, by whom it shall not be communicated to any one, if it be desired to be wiihheld from the public. RECREATIONS IN ARTS AND LITERATURE. 1st JULY 1799. Rural Observations, Hints, and Luculrations. To the Editor oj Recreations in Agriculture, &c. SIR, PRESUMING upon your indulgence, I beg leave to offer you a few of my rustic thoughts and ob- servations, and shall, if approved, continue them occa- sionally ; but being rather an enthusiast of nature, I hope you will excuse my poetical liberties, and excursive transitions from one subject to another, just as they may happen to strike my fancy. From observations on timber, agriculture, or gardening, I may perchance call your attention to a bird's nest, or a brood of in- sects; but if in any shape I should drop a hint, or produce a new observation, worthy the notice of your readers, I shall be fully compensated for any trouble it may cost me in giving them to the public. From the first moment that I saw the Prospectus of your Work, I was charmed with the plan, and determined imme- diately to become one of your readers. I have now the pleasure to say, since I perused your two first num- bers, that my expectations are still heightened, and VOL. I. k 146 Rural Recreations, &c. I cordially wish you every desirable succefs. The plan is at once well calculated to entertain and instruct; but with respect to a general range of literary intelli- gence", which your correspondent who signs himself a Friend seems desirous you should introduce, I must beg leave to difsent from his opinion, at least in part. Such publications and intelligence as relate more im- mediately to the grand subjects of your work, perhaps, Sir, you would do right to notice ; but I should not wish you to go any farther, as I think it would in- trude too much upon your precious time, and the limits of your work. Moreover, it is to be consi- dered, that there are numbers of publications entirely devoted to the conveyance of literary intelligence to the public, by which, at a small expence, those who are desirous of it may be abundantly gratified. As I wish, by no means, to give any one offence, so I am persuaded, that your candour and liberality are such as" will pardon this intrusion. I am a plain country man, and from my cradle have pafsed my days among the delightful scenes of the country, and have al- ways " looked upon nature with a lover's eye;" though, perhaps, too much blended with the roman- tic turn, for even in childhood, All thoughtleis of maternal care I fled, (As from my earliest youth I lov'd the shades) Now here, now there, as devious fancy led, Through woodland wilds, and silent lonely glades. Then mounted on some tall tree's loftiest bough, Rock'd by the impulse of the pafsing wind, I view'd the landscape far and wide below, And wild romantic pleasure fill'd the mind. Rural Recreations,- &c. 147 O'er spacious fields of undulating corn To see light shadows float of clouds above, To catch perfumes on zephyrs pinions borne, Lull'd by the sylvan songster's lay of love ; These were delights which then would charm the soul And still as I grew, nature in her beautiful and unadorned simplicity was always the object of my fondest regard. I have laboured in the woods, and in the fields, and often have I laid down my hatchet, or my scythe, to admire the curious structure of a bird's nest, or the beautiful painting of the eggs, the elegant formation of a plant, the inimitable colouring of a flower, or the economy of a family of insects. Even at that time also, I considered with what innumerable varieties of animal and vegetable tribes the extensive fields of nature had been stocked and clothed, by the WONDERFUL CREATIVE WISDOM OF Dl- VINE PROVIDENCE ! How each was maintained and propagated in its own order ; also how much had been done by the cultivating and meliorating hand of human industry and art, and that much more re- mained still to be done : but for many years past, having been closely engaged in the duties of a do- mestic station, I can only occasionally advert to hor- ticultural or sylvan amusements; though still the same affection for them exists, and it is my earnest desire that I may always enjoy life's blefsings in a rural re- tirement : Remov'd a step above the dreary cell, Where struggles squalid poverty in vain, How sweet on nature's soft ascents to dwell, Where health and quiet blefs the village train j k2 148 Rural Recreations, &c. To hail the soft-ey'd morning's golden ray, With grateful hearts where mild devotion glows j Well pleas'd to meet the labours of the day, And taste those sweets which industry bestows; The temp'rate meal, the well-earn'd leisure hour, To books devoted, or the garden's care ; To mark the beauties of each op'ning flower, Nature's gay children, exquisitely fairj At eve to leave life's bustling cares behind, The purest breath of heaven to inhale ; Dispensing health and vigour to the mind, Soft as it blows along the blofsom'd vale : O let me still enjoy those chaste delights Which bloom in nature's yet untainted fields ; Bright days, untroubled slumbers, peaceful nights, And all the sweets which rural quiet yields t Could any higher wish the mind beguile, The cottage still would best my fancy please ; A little competence to lighten toil, To nurse my flowers, and taste sweet letter'd ease. But hence, ye sordid joys of bloated wealth ! Let power and titles be to others given ; Life's humble walks I choose, where peace and health May smooth my pafsage to a peaceful heaven. But it is high time to drop my reveries, and there- fore I would inform you, Sir, that if it may prove agreeable, in my next I shall produce some hints for the propagation of timber, the nccefsity for the legis- lature giving proper encouragement to it, and inforcing it in new acts for the inclosure of fields, &c. with some observations on the properties of the various common and most useful kinds, and proper soil for Julia to her Friend. 149 the different species. In the mean time I remain, with all respect, yours, A RURAL VILLAGER Oxfordshire, On the banks of the CHARWEU,. May 11, 1799. The Editor is much obliged to this correspondent for the favourable opinion he entertains of his work, and hopes that it will continue to deserve it. He thanks him for the above, and will be glad of a con- tinuance of his favours; for although he does not en- tertain the same opinion with this writer of the bene- ficial effects that result from the interference of the legislature with the affairs of individuals, especially where they have an imperative compulsory tendency, yet he has no objection to hear whatever can be urged in favour of, or in opposition to, any proposed mea- sure, especially when what is said proceeds from the real conviction of the writer; for it is thus only that truth can be attained. With regard to the proposed literary intelligence, the writer will find that his no- tions concerning it do not differ much from those of the Editor. Julia to tier Friend. I A M gratified, my friend, by the wish you exprefs that natural history should be the subject of our fu- ture correspondence : it will open to us an ample field for speculation, and every information we receive this way, will be rendered doubly interesting. It has been long my earnest desire to see you entering into 1 50 Julia to her Friend. this pursuit: we wish our friends to partake our plea- sures, and that their taste should be congenial to our own ; this resemblance alone renders conversation de- lightful, and a correspondence more than a mere mat- ter of form. Nothing could have given me more pleasure than the promise you have made me of your afsistance; for, from the precision of your observations, I have every thing to hope, and I shall endeavour to prove my gratitude by my readinefs to answer any of your inquiries when it is in my power : but, before I revert further to your letter, let me tell you how much I wish you were now enjoying with me the beauties of the country. Never did the opening season give me half the satisfaction which I have experienced this year : whether I am indebted to the long and stormy winter which is past, or to a curiosity sharpened by my present studies, I cannot determine, but every thing seems to bear the hue of novelty. I have been attentively observing the progrefs of vegetation, open- ing the earth to mark the growth of different seeds, and anxiously expecting the expanding of every bud. The eggs and aurelias of insects have also shared my attention, and objects are crowding in so fast, that I am only fearful of growing tedious, by the relation of trite matter, since every thing appears new to me, from the renovation of nature to life and beauty. The spring awakes, the bursting flow'rets blow, And tender foliage shades the nestling choir j I, who partake not of the genial glow, Who fade, not blofsom, still with tuneful lyre, Responsive to the vernal songsters lays, To nature's Author heartfelt tribute raise. Julia to 1ir Friend. 151 The orient beams break on the opening buds, And sweetly dewy morn with spring combines, Wak'd by returning heat, the air and floods Teem with fresh life Eternal wisdom shines ! I feel His goodnefs break from all around, In each productive germ, in each melodious sound. Wise Author of the renovated year, Who spread' st the vine, and swel'st the laughing grain, Vouchsafe the tributes of my heart to hear, Which artlefs flow, in wild yet grateful strain. God of my soul, my feeble voice I raise, And mingle in the gen'ral song of praise. All nature, indeed, glows with joy and beauty; and though the showers prevent the frequency of my walks, the consequent loveliness of the verdure makes me am- ple amends. Every thing is now sparkling before me with so many charms, that I can scarcely draw my eyes from the fields to satisfy your curiosity with the particulars you desire. I have not had an opportunity myself of investigat- ing the little insect whose history you request; but I am preparing to make advances in this department of natural history as quick as pofsible, and I hope, in time, to be able to give you satisfaction on that point. There is, indeed, something so curious in the his- tories of insects, that I have ever found them very amusing; but more particularly the various changes these winged tribes experience. I am anxious to make a collection of the different aurelias into which cater- pillars, grubs, and maggots retire, before they assume their winged state ; and as this can only be done one 152 Hot-walls. way, I intend to draw them as I find them, and wait till their coming out informs me what they are. You must inquire for me, where I may be most likely to find those entombed animals, that I may be better in- formed in this curious part of natural history. JULIA. Cursory remarks on a method of forcing vines, and of ripening other fruits under glass, without the aid of any other heat than that afforded ly the sun. IN our climate the degree of heat is so low, that there are many desirable kinds of fruit which we can- not bring to maturity without a considerable degree of care and attention ; the design of this efsay is to point out some circumstances which, if adverted to, may considerably augment the effect without accumulating additional expense. The simplest mode of augmenting the natural heat of our climate for the maturation of fruits, is to avail ourselves of the shelter afforded by a wall. This pro- duces its effects in a two-fold manner; it screens the plants from the influence of cold and nipping winds, or it augments the actual degree of heat by the rever- beration of the sun's rays from the wall. In both these respects a wall fronting the south will operate the most powerfully, because our most piercing winds are usually from some northerly point, so that the protection from cold is greater, while the action of the sun for producing a positive degree of heat is obviously more powerful also in that than any other position. Hot-walls. 153 Next to the north, the east wind is the coldest we ex- perience, so that a west exposure is better than an east one, considered in this point of view ; but as our strongest winds, during the summer months, are from the westerly points, for the most part verging to the southward, which will sweep along a wall of a south aspect with great violence, we shall soon have occa- sion to show that it is, perhaps, of as much import- ance to have a screen reared to protect it from that quarter as from the eastward. But a high wall, or building, whether to the east or west, are improper screens, because they intercept the rays of the sun, in a considerable degree, and thus diminish its influence. The best screen for breaking the force of the wind, in either case, is a strong hedge, or a thicket of trees, at a considerable distance, so as not to screen the wall from the sun ; and a close extent of lower shrubs, even along the southward, at no very great distance from the wall ; for this tends to retard the general cur- rent of the air, and to induce a certain degree of still- nefs to a considerable height above the tops of these shrubs, much more than any smooth surface ever could occasion. For the same reason trees of any kind, that rise to a considerable height behind the wall to the northward, operate as a powerful protection from the violence of the blast, without intercepting the heat in any degree. There is, however, another current of air which it is as necefsary to check as any of those above enume- rated. To this, which has been scarcely ever, if at all, adverted to, I now wish to turn the attention of the reader, as it will enable him to augment the power 154 Hot-walls. of his wall to a very great degree. When the sun acts upon the wall, and the surface of the earth at the bottom of it, it is reflected back from thence in a very powerful manner, so as to heat that portion of air which is contiguous to it very much ; the air is of course there greatly expanded, and, becoming thus specifically lighter than it was before, it is of course carried up- wards as a balloon, though in an invisible state and imperceptible manner. It continues to ascend till it rises above the top of the wall, where it is difsipated in the wide expanse of the atmosphere in the same manner as smoke. Thus does it happen that the air is no sooner heated than it is hurried with rapidity away from the wall where its influence is alone wanted, and dispersed where its effects upon our operations are altogether lost. If, then, we could contrive to stop this current so as to make the air, when once heated, in a great measure stagnant in this place, that heated air being still acted upon, for a continuance of time, would be heated more and more, till it attained a de- gree of warmth sufficiently great to bring to maturity, perhaps, any plant that grows on the surface of the earth. In this manner, there can be no doubt that, were it not for the fixed position of a wall, which admits not of the sun acting upon it with full power, but for a short part of the time that it is above our horizon in summer, it might be very pofsible to give any plant the degree of heat that is suitable to it during the summer season, without any other warm- ing influence than that afforded by the sun. But of this enough at present. Let us proceed to that which is easily practicable by us. Hot-walls. 155 That the reader may become fully sensible of the powerful influence of this law of nature, the expan- sion of heated air, I shall beg leave to mention a few facts respecting it, which he either must already have had occasion to remark, or which he may have easily an opportunity of observing on some future occasion. It is very common in this country to ripen vines un- der glafs where no artificial heat is applied ; yet it is well known that grapes may be thus obtained, one month at least earlier than in the open air, under any management whatever; and in all cases of this kind, if the glafses be not opened very frequently from above (I say from above, for if they be opened only lelow the same effect will not be perceived), it will be ob- served, that the grapes towards the top of the house are always much more forward than those below. The cause of this variation is plain : when the air to- wards the bottom of the wall is heated by the sun it rises directly upwards; but, being intercepted in its ascent by the glafs roof, it can only make its escape there through the chinks of the glafs and frame. The heated air being thus, in some measure, pent in, it becomes, in a short time, much hotter than the ex- ternal air, which is at liberty to escape upwards as fast as it is generated. In this way, and also because the cold blasts brought by the wind are denied accefs by means of the glafs, the inside of such house, in every part of it, is greatly hotter, during the day-time, than any where without doors ; but that part of the air which is most heated, being always the lightest also, it invariably occupies the higher part of the house, and the grapes which are placed in this warm atmosphere 156 Hot-walls. must, of course, ripen much earlier than those be- low. By attending to this fact, an idea must naturally occur to every reflecting mind, that it would be a great advantage to have this wall equally heated at the bottom as at the top, because thus the extent of our heated wall would be greatly augmented, and this, it is very evident, would be effected, if we could con- trive to intercept the heated air in its ascent, and con- fine it near the bottom, allowing it to make its escape from thence only when it had acquired just that de- gree of heat which was suited to the plant we were rearing, and no more. All this, it is obvious, might be effected by the following very simple contrivance. Let A B C D represent the section of a vinery of the ordi- nary kind, without a flue, in which B C represent the back wall fronting the south, C D the roof glafs, and D A the front glafses. While the house is allowed to remain in this position, all the air which is heated by the action of the sun on the bottom and the back wall will, of course, be carried up- wards to the point C, where, if the roof be air-tight, its heat will be accumu- lated, till, like water coming in a stream in the opposite direction, the whole of the area down to A B will be gradually filled with that heated air. But there is this difference to be observed between air and water, that whereas the temperature of water would B Hot-walls. 157 not be very different throughout its whole depth, the heat of the air must be necefsarily in all cases of this sort much more varied, the warmest air invariably oc-r cupying the highest place; so that when the air at B shall have acquired the degree of heat equal to that which was at C at any given period of time, the heat at C will, by this time, have proportionally augmented, so as still to be by a great deal the hottest part of the house. Hence, then, it must follow, that, if the heat shall be so much augmented as to be sufficient for the purpose wanted at B, it must be greatly too high at C. Hence arises the necefsity of letting down the glafses during warm weather, so as to leave an opening at C to allow the over heated air to make its escape ; a circumstance which, if not carefully managed, frus- trates in a great measure the whole benefit that ought to be derived from the glafses ; for, if these be not closed while the sun has still such power as to fill the house again with air heated to a considerable de- gree before the sun leaves it, the house must be left cold during the whole night, and the plants be greatly retarded during this time. Many gardeners, who do not consider that no heat can be generated within the house when the sun is not actually shining within that house, and that all the heated air contained in the house will make its escape in a few minutes from an opening at top, as at C, if no heated air is gene- rating below, lose nearly the whole benefit of their glafs; for, if the glafs be left open till the sun be nearly withdrawn, or while the clouds prevent it from shining, the air in the inside of their house during the night-time must be nearly as cold as the external 158 Hot-walls. air when no wind is stirring; whereas, if the upper opening had been perfectly closed while the sun had still power to generate as much heated air as to fill the house before the evening, and if the frames were so close as to prevent the escape of the heated air, it would have continued so long warm during the night, as to have kept the plants advancing towards maturity almost the whole of the time, till the sun returned in the morning. Those who advert to the circumstances here ex- plained, will also perceive the very great importance of having all the higher part of the house made per- fectly air-tight; because, if there be even but a few small crannies there, through which the heated air can make its escape, the sun will be no sooner withdrawn from the house than [observe, I do not say set', for the sun must inevitably be withdrawn from every hot-house many hours each day in summer before he sets; and, from the moment he ceases to shine within the house, his influence as to this particular ceases, and of course from that moment] the heated air which was gene- rated in the house must continue to make its escape without obtaining any fresh supplies, so that even long before sun-set it may be as cool as without doors. Here we discover an immense source of waste of that benign element (heat) which is evidently within our power, but which we needlefsly suffer to run to waste : we act, in this instance, like the person who, having great occasion for water, is at a considerable expense to make a dam, but takes no care to stop up innu- merable leaks, by which it is all suffered imperceptibly to be drawn off without benefiting him in the small- Hot-walls. 159 est degree, unlefs it be at a few times of floods, when the supply is more than sufficient to make up for the leakage. Need we wonder at the little effect that houses thus constructed produce, unlefs they be aided by artificial heat while the sun is withdrawn ? To prevent the necefsity of such artificial heat at those times, all that is necefsary is to confine the air that is once heated by the sun, and so to distribute it as to make it produce a genial influence through every part of the house, while we still retain the power of regulating it at pleasure. To have the power of preventing the heated air from making its escape, great pains should be taken, when constructing a hot- house, to make it perfectly air-tight, towards the higher part of the house especially: the joinings between every pane of glafs should be therefore perfectly closed with putty, and the upper frames be made quite immov- able, and close puttied all round; for if they be made to slide down, or to open in any way, it will be im- pofsible to make them air-tight. I shall afterwards show in what way the heated air, at proper times, may be let off, and the house properly ventilated at plea- sure; at present we shall wave it, to proceed with our illustration. Let us then suppose that the roof is quite air-tight, and that it has been properly closed, while the inside is filled with air that has been heated by the sun to the highest degree that the plants within can properly endure; and observe the consequences. The sun no sooner withdraws from the house than the heat ceases to accumulate; but, while the sun continues above the horizon, the external air continues so mild, as to 160 Hot-u>alls. have but very little effect in refrigerating the air with- in the house; but, after the sun is set, it soon cools, and then begins to operate in this manner. The glafs is thin, and is easily permeable by cold; the particles of air then that are next the glafs, those espe- cially that are nearest the point C, which is the most exposed to the cold air, will be soonest acted upon, and condensed. These particles of air, becoming thus heavier than those below them, can no longer retain the position they formerly occupied, but sink down from thence to the bottom, where they afsume their station, occupying the place of those warmer particles formerly there, which now rise gradually up- wards; the warm particles which were next below those that were nearest the glafs now afsume the high- est place, like the second couple in a country dance, and in their turn are cooled, and dance down to the bottom; thus does each in its turn succefsively change place, until the sun returns, when the order of the dance is totally reversed, those that were lowest from that time rising to the top ; and so they go on, perpetually changing places, rising or falling, as the heat or the cold alternately prevail. Observe, however, that the following differences must take place in the heat of the air in the inside of the house. During the night-time, while the state of condensation prevails, the greatest degree of cold must take place towards the front window; for not only are the cold particles which were condensed under the roof glafs towards D made to descend near the front glafs, but all the particles within that front glafs, be- ginning at the top D, and descending towards A, must Hot-malls. 161 be also condensed, and, accumulating upon each other like a snow-ball in their descent, these cold particles must be collected towards A, to a much greater degree than any where else. On the other hand, when the sun comes to act upon the floor from A to B, the particles that are there heated will of course ascend; but, as the particles on the back wall from B towards C must all be heated also, it will follow, that the heat along the surface of the wall will then be much greater than any where else. A consequence of this necefsary movement is, that the temperature of the house must vary in every part of it, being always coolest towards the front at A, and hottest toward the back part at C. It is unnecefsary to be more particular here respecting this, as every other variation will be easily compre- hended from what has been here explained. It is only necefsary in this place to observe, that these effects are not, in general, very perceptible in houses of the common construction, because they are so open towards the top, and so pervious to air every where, that it easily escapes from within, or finds ad- mifsion from without, whenever the temperature of these two regions become considerably different from each other. There is, however, one case referable to this head, with which most gardeners are in some measure acquainted, though they know not how to account for, and which I shall here explain, not only as it affords a practical illustration of the principle above developed, but as we shall be able here also to instruct them how to improve their practice. When gardeners attempt to make plants strike root without any ground heat under hand-glafses, they find VOL. I. 1 162 Hot-walls. it tends greatly to forward the effect if they put these glafses close down, and on no account lift them up for a considerable time. They thus prevent the air (espe- cially if it be a bell glafs) which has been once heated from getting off, so that the plants are kept continu- ally in a warm atmosphere, and their vegetation is, of course, greatly promoted thereby. This fact is ge- nerally known, and very universally practised. The following mode of augmenting the power of the sun is known by a few cautious cultivators, those espe- cially in the neat houses on the Thames [a species of market gardeners, whose sole businefs is that of forcing early things for the London market, and who have ob- tained their name from the neatnefs of their opera- tions] ; but it is not generally understood elsewhere. They find that, by covering lettuce, violets, and other low growing plants,- which are apt to be hurt by se- vere winters, with a close frame, which is so far filled with earth as to bring the plants as near to the glafs as pofsible, they can thus bring them forward to market with great rapidity at any season they want them, which they could not do in a deep frame where the plants were far from the glafs. If they take care to have their frames very close, and to cover them well with mats during the night, they can thus bring all those kinds of things nearly as fast forward as they could do upon a hot-bed; for where hot dung is ap- plied below, frequent ventilation becomes necefsary, which is not required in this case. Those who have never tried the effect of this mode of protecting plants, and accelerating vegetation, will be quite surprised at it; but, from what has been said above, the reason Hoi-walls. 163 of this difference will be obvious. The plants which are close under the glafs are kept perpetually in the wannest region of the atmosphere, while those at the bottom are as continually kept in the coolest part of it. Nor is this varied in the night time more than the day; for, although some might think, that as the plants are near to the glafs where the cold in the night is greatest, they ought there to experience then a greater degree of cold than below; but these persons do not consider, that the particles of air which are cool- ed immediately as they touch the glafs, are no sooner condensed than they leave that place, and sink to the bottom, where, others following them in a continued succefsion, a degree of intense cold is there accumu- lated, while the warmest particles within the frame still crowd upwards towards the glafs, so that there it must necefsarily continue hottest at all times, if the frame be air-tight; and, if the depth of the frame be considerable, the difference between the top and the bottom atmosphere will be very great. By obtaining close frames, in which the glafs is placed in an exact horizontal position; by never opening them but when necefsity requires, and, when that necefsity calls for it, opening them only for as short a time as pofsible, and at an early part of the day, while the sun is out; and by covering them duly and sufficiently at night, the effects that may be produced by this method of forcing small things are astonishingly great. To re- turn from this digrefsion to our house : I shall pro- bably take another opportunity of showing in what manner this principle may be applied to effect many useful purposes; but it would lead us too far to pursue 1 2 164 Hot -walls. it longer in this place. I shall only just take notice of one circumstance, which operates powerfully in refrigerating bodies of this nature, which,. as it has never been adverted to, has never been attempted to , be remedied. If the glafses be carefully covered with thick mats during the night time, when the heating power is withdrawn, it will retard the refrigeration for some time; but the cold no sooner begins to act than it condenses the air, which then occupies a much smaller space than formerly. Were no communication with the external air to be admitted, the degree of cold thus produced would be inconsiderable; but no sooner does this condensation of the internal air take place, than a comparative degree of vacuum is produced, as in an air-pump in a slight degree exhausted, so that the external air prefses forcibly on all sides, till it finds accefs to supply the vacuum. It is this intrusion of cold air, which, under these circumstances, it is not pofsible-to prevent, rather than the cold transmitted through the glafs, which produces the hurtful refrige- ration towards morning, that is so destructive, be- cause it is so difficult to guard against. The diffi- culty, however, would have been small, had the cause of this extraordinary cold been adverted to; it would only require that a communication by means of a small pipe should be left open between the upper part of the house and the upper part of the kitchen, or any other heated chamber, or a close stove that might be made on purpose. By this means no sooner would a particle of air be condensed by mere refrigeration, than some warm air from that chamber would come in to supply the vacuum occasioned by it; and, though the bottom part of that supply-chamber might be cool Hot-walls. 165 long before morning, the upper part of it would still be hot; so that this refrigeration, -produced by the en- trance of the common air, would be, in a great mea- sure, 1 obviated. In order to remove these fluctuations of temperature from the back wall (for the too great heat at one time is perhaps equally prejudicial as the too great cold at another), instead of bringing it to a sharp angle at C, Fig. 1 . which could not in this state be employed for any useful purpose, it will be well to throw a small covered roof over the wall, slanting backwards as from F to C, making the distance from F to C about two feet, which will give room for nailing quite to the top, and then bringing the roof glafs from F to D, so that the cooled particles of air, descending from F to O, will be at some distance from the wall; and the heated particles, having all a tendency towards F, will not be brushed quite so close upon the wall as they otherwise would have been. This form is, in several other respects, convenient. In order, however, still more to protect the fruit upon the wall from experiencing hurtful variations of temperature, and to preserve the heat as equably as pofsible at all times throughout the whole, let the fol- lowing arrangements be adopted. Let A P C F D represent the same parts, Fig. 2. let h k m represent three narrow shelves of wood, not projecting above three inches from the wall, and fashioned with a talus in front, having a row of holes of about one inch in diameter, and six inches apart, pierced through it from end to end (the uses of which will be explained here- after) . Let a series of frames be fixed to these, running 166 Hot-walls. from end to end of the house in the direction ml, k z, and h g; and upon these frames letsomeoiled paper be pasted, and firmly stretched out. These frames being supposed to be firmly joined to the shelves respectively, and the holes all closed up, so as to be air-tight, it is plain, from inspection of the figure, that when the sun acts powerfully upon the pavement and the back wall, so as to rarefy the air A - there, and make it ascend, all that is within the dotted perpendicular line g i will be intercepted by the oiled paper g h, and will be accumulated under //, till, by degrees, filling the whole of the cavity g h f it will be at length forced as low down as the point g; it will then, as it were, run over, and from the point g it will rise upwards till it is intercepted by the other screen i, when it will be forced inwards to k, where, uniting with the heated air produced by the reflection from the wall between h and k, it will be there in like manner accumulated till it flows over also at i, which will, in its turn, be intercepted by I', and so on from step to step till it at length reach the top of the wall. Thus will the wall in every part from bottom to top be lined with a coating of heated air, which is little susceptible of variation of heat either by night or by day, unlefs at such times as the operator shall think it necefsary; for the cool air, during the night- time, being condensed near the glafs, is prevented Hot-walls. 167 from coming towards the wall in its descent, so that the heated air adjoining the wall is not sensibly af- fected by it. Thus may the wall be kept nearly as hot during the night as during the day, and the fruit will be carried forward with a degree of rapidity that has never hitherto been experienced where the heat of the sun alone has been employed. Indeed the great- est danger to be apprehended to peaches and vines is, that the heat may sometimes be too powerful; we have therefore made a provision to moderate it when that shall chance to be the case. For the purpose of ventilating the house, instead of pulling down the windows, so as to open the top to- wards F, let some holes be made through the back part of the roof towards E of an inch or an inch and a half diameter, and let a tin pipe be fitted to them, and fixed by putty all round. This pipe should rise up a little higher than the roof on the outside, and should be covered with a conical cap like a common extinguisher for a candle, but so wide below as to more than cover the mouth of the pipe entirely, and so high supported by two thin slips of the same ma- terials as to allow free pafsage to the air. The bottom of this pipe to be shut up quite close with a valve, so as to be air-tight when shut, but to admit of being easily opened at pleasure by a string, which may be fixed upon a hook while the valve is to be kept open, and to close of itself when it is let go; [or these open- ings may be made through the top of the back wall, in a horizontal position, when no caps to keep out rain will be required.] As many holes of this sort may be made along the roof as shall be judged convenient. 168 Hot-ivalls. This being done, the house may be ventilated with ease whenever it shall be judged expedient. In ge- neral, when the sun shines bright, the house will be- come very hot about twelve o'clock; but if no venti- lation were to take place, it would be hottest from four to five o'clock. To avoid this, and when a full ventilation is wanted, the ventilator may be opened pretty early in the day, perhaps about ten o'clock, and kept open entirely, or in part, as circumstances shall seem to require, till two or three o'clock, as the state of the weather shall be; but the valves should always be closed several hours before the sun leaves the house, and so as that it may have acquired a heat before the sun retires, that is rather above what is ne- cefsary for the health of the plant, and kept close shut during the night. While the ventilation is going forward, the lower windows may be either opened or kept shut, as the weather shall indicate; but when the ventilators are shut, these also should be closed. Either the whole of the house may be thus ventilated, or the outer part of it only, including the top division of the wall, while that part of the wall which is co- vered by the oiled paper may be kept hot without any ventilation. This may be done by keeping all the holes in the shelves close shut up by means of corks, or otherwise; when a thorough ventilation is wanted, some of these corks may be taken out, and the businefs is done. On this part of the management of the house I shall only farther observe, that in houses where vines or peaches are reared, it will be found to be very con- ducive to the health of the plants to have them some- Hot-walls. 169 times gently moistened; and the. best way of doing that will be to water the floor, especially if it be paved, while the sun is shining hot ; the water will thus be quickly converted into steam, which will gently dif- fuse itself over the whole of the plants, and greatly refresh them. This may be repeated as often during dry weather as shall be judged necefsary; for the mois- ture thus obtained may be carried off as quickly as you please by a ventilation of dry air; but during moist weather this practice should be more cautiously adopted, it being then indeed lefs necefsary or proper. I am aware of the prejudice generally entertained against the use of oiled paper in this way. Where it is to be exposed to the wind 'and weather without doors, that prejudice is, doubtlefs, well founded; for the paper is so liable to be torn, and otherwise de- ranged, as to render it a very troublesome screen ; but this objection affects it not where it is protected by a glafs roof. Indeed it is so much closer, cheaper, and lighter, than glafs, as to be much superior to it where thus applied. To support this paper a set of frames should be made of light wood; which may be five or six feet in length each, and of a convenient depth [from three to four feet would, perhaps, be best] . The upper edge of that frame should be made to apply quite closely to 4he edge of the shelf; and to render it the closer a list of cloth ought to be pasted on the under part of the frame where it applies to the shelf. . Each frame should be provided with two turnbuckles on the upper edge, which, when twisted about, should prefs the frame close to the edge of the shelf. The under cor- 170 Hot-walls. ners of each frame should rest upon a natch or bracket placed upon the uprights F o ; one natch supporting the corners of both the contiguous frames. At each end the frame should consist of two thin slips of wood placed edge upwards, quite straight, and lined with a list of cloth; so that when one is once fixed, another is applied close to it thus, , and a piece of iron fashioned like a fork (similar to the contrivance for connecting join- ing tables) should be made to slip over them and prefs the two close. One of these above, and one near the bottom, would connect them firmly together. When thus fixed, they would be air-tight, and nothing more is wanted. When the trees required to be nailed or pruned, these frames should be taken entirely off (which could be done with great ease), and laid aside till the operation was finished, when they should be again put up. The brackets for the lowest screens should be a little deeper than those above them, in order to make the edge of each higher screen to pro- ject a little beyond that which is immediately beneath it, for the purpose of intercepting the heated air when it overflows. Two inches at each stage will be quite enough for this purpose. The holes directed to be made in the shelves are in- tended to answer two purposes : one is for the purpose of ventilation, as above described, and all the holes appro- priated to this purpose ought to be stopped with corks ; the other use is to admit of the shoots of the trees upon the wall to pafs through them : and for this purpose, after the shoots have been pafsed through the holes, they should be stopped up with moistened loam, mixed up as D -Fi.3 A. i C Hot-walls. 171 for the purpose of ingrafting, and this should be kept moistened for some time, to allow the branch to ex- pand during the growth. Fig. 3. represents a view of a part of the back wall of a vinery laid open, in which A B and C D represent two shoots of vine laid in after the winter pruning, each of them pafsing through holes in the three shelves. These holes may be imme- diately closed up, and al- lowed to dry, as the wood of the stem, which ad- vances very little in size during the ensuing summer, runs no risk of being damaged by too hard pinching. F is intended to give an idea of ihe manner in which the fruit-bearing branches should be nailed during the summer season. If the wood has been strong and properly ripened, each of these shoots will, with certainty, carry two bunches of grapes. It is to be observed that the fruit-shoots from the stems A and C must be laid in after the same manner, and will, of course, intermingle among these. This is attended with no harm, as the abundant foliage which is thus produced serves to cherish and protect the fruit, and bring it to have a proper flavour. Some of these shoots upon a healthy vine, if suffered to run their whole length, would go a great way in one sea- but as none of these are to be employed as bear- son: ing wood next year, their tops may be pinched off at a 172 Hot -walls. proper length,, and the quantity of foliage be thus kept within due bounds, g h i represent by dotted lines three wood-bearing shoots rising from the bot- tom, intended to be laid-in for producing fruit-bearing shoots next year. These are allowed to push upwards without receiving any check during the whole of this season, and will run, on a healthy tree, from twenty to thirty feet in that season ; the points of these shoots should be succefsively pafsed through the holes in the shelves as they reach them, which should be closed up with moist loam ; and this should be kept moistened for some time to allow the shoots to expand. When they reach the roof, these shoots may be trained along under the top, or, what is still better, they may be let through holes made in the roof for that purpose, and trained up in the open air. It would be better still to have all these shoots trained up entirely out of doors, a thing that may be easily done, though it would take up too much time to show how in this place. At the winter pruning, the shoots A C E are cut entirely out, leaving one eye at the bottom of each to supply wood shoots next season, and the shoots g h i are nailed then in their turn in the same manner as ACE, and so on alternately from year to year. After this manner may the inside wall of a vinery be continually covered with fine bunches of grapes so close as to be touching each other in every part, if desired, and the whole to be equally full and equally well ripened in every part, without any artificial heal whatever. When the fruit is gathered, the glafses may be taken off, and the paper frames removed, if no other use is to be made of the house j or, if the fruit Timothy Hairbrain. 173 be forced early, and other wood-bearing shoots be provided without, to be then forced, the shoots from which the fruit has been gathered may be then taken out, and the others laid-in in their place, and thus brought forward as a second crop of late fruits. I scarcely need remark, because it must be suffi- ciently obvious to every one who has attended to what has been here said, that if the glafs roof D F, Fig. 2, be employed, the fruit, under this mode of manage- ment, will ripen nearly as soon, and with equal cer- tainty, though no front glafs at all should be ejnployed, as if it were; especially if care be taken to have proper screens at a due distance before to break the force of the wind. In a subsequent number I shall make some remarks on the best mode of applying artificial heat in hot houses; a subject that seems to be yet lefs understood, in general, than that of availing ourselves fully of the natural heat of the sun. Lucubrations of Timothy Hairlrain. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. " O ! if I were but in the place of that lady," said a blooming girl, in whose countenance were depicted, in legible characters, health, peace, and innocence, as she went tripping lightly along to market, with a brace of fowls and a basket of eggs and butter on her arm, in a tine morning : " if I were but in the place of that lady, how happy should I be !" The lady who oc- casioned this involuntary exclamation was rolling 174 High life contrasted along in a fine chariot, sitting by the side of a middle aged gentleman, who seemed to be her husband, and followed by two smart drefsed servants on horseback. ' And pray, my pretty dear,' said I, ' what do you sec in that lady to make you wish so eagerly to change places with her?' " See !" said she ; " why don't you see she is drefsed as fine as fine can be ? She is sitting there at her ease, drawn by a pair of such beautiful horses that it is a pleasure to look at them, and who scamper along as if they felt no weight behind them; while I, poor I ! am forced to trudge-on on foot, overcome with heat and choked with dust ; and then these fine servants to attend her, and bring her whatever she shall wish to have. I'll warrant ye she will find no more diffi- culty to put her hand in her pocket and pull out a guinea, aye, or ten guineas either, to buy a shawl, or a beautiful cap, when she sees one that pleases her in a shop window, than I shall find to give a halfpenny for an apple. As to the fine caps, they are not for such folks as me ; we may look at them, we may ad- mire them, but we are never suffered to enjoy them. Is it not very wrong in these saucy shopkeepers to be allowed to hang up those fine things in their windows just to tempt poor folks like me, who would not, per- haps, otherwise think of them ?" ( It may, perhaps, be wrong,' said I, ' my dear, in a moral point of view, to do so; and I am convinced that many innocent girls, like you, are allured thus to go astray, who might not otherwise have thought of it; but still it would be hard to deprive those persons who have money of the power of spending it as they please : many a worthy family is, you know, supported by providing with lower stations. 175 these articles for sale; and it is natural for every one to wish to display their goods to the best advantage. Even you yourself, as rigid a moralist as you are in this case, carry these fowls to market on this fine day, when you expect that their beautiful appearance will tempt some one to wish to taste such a nice bit of feathered flesh, and give you a good price for them. Had it been a rainy day you would, probably, have Ifeft them at home ; and that fine butter you have in your basket, how nice it looks when wrapped up with that pure white napkin ! Is not this intended to tempt the merchant ? Yet you do not think there is any harm in doing this, nor ever mind, although it should in- duce some one to give his last shilling for it, although he would, perhaps, have judged more wisely in pur- chasing some plainer fare. Let us then allow the shopkeepers to do, without blaming them, what we ourselves should have done had we been in their place. 1 But to return to the lady: What did you see about her, that gave any indications to you of her enjoying a greater share of happinefs than yourself? Was her complexion more blooming ? for I know you looked in the mirror this morning before you set out. Did her eye sparkle with greater brilliancy, as if her heart felt a more animating degree of senfation ? You are silent; you was not, then, sensible of any thing of this sort : but you are sensible that when you feel a greater de- gree of happinefs than usual, your countenance as- sumes a more animating glow than at other times ; you are then lively and gay; you are delighted with the company of those that you esteem ; and you are 176 High life contrasted full of life and cheerfulnefs. Instead of that, you saw the lady sat as grave as a parson, and no object seemed to attract her notice. Would you be so, if you were as happy as you think you should be were you in her place ?' " O ! no, not at all," said the girl. " Were I in her place I should laugh, I should sing, I should dance for joy, I could not contain myself." 'Then,' said I, ( my dear, you must get out of the carriage, for you could not dance there, you know. You see a carriage is not good for every thing : it confines you from danc- ing; it does not allow you the use of your own limbs; it does not admit of that firmnefs of step, the parent of that pure health you now enjoy, and which makes your blood to flow, and your spirits lightly dance, as at present. Why do you envy the lady for that which seems to sink her almost to annihilation?' While we were thus keenly engaged in conversation, we came up to the inn where the happy pair had stopped. They had ordered breakfast, and while it was getting ready they went to take a turn in the garden. The garden door was about twenty yards from the inn door, and we met them full as they came forward. I desired the girl to walk at leisure, and observe them narrowly. The lady seemed to be about thirty : her complexion was delicate, but sickly : her eye, which was of a fine blue tint, was languid and listlefs ; and her counte- nance, though naturally fine, had acquired a sort of languor tending to peevishnefs, blended with a kind of hauteur : her step was feeble and insecure ; and the heat of the morning seemed to overpower her faculties : her eye had a kind of vacant inanity; nothing seemed to rouse her attention but the fresh aspect and sim- with lower stations. 177 pie air of rosy health of my innocent companion. This gave, as it were, a fillip to her attention, and she looked at the girl as if she took an interest in something about her. ' Well, my girl,' said I, after we had pafsed, ( what do you think of the lady now ? do you envy her as much as you did ?' She hesitated a little. ' Or/ said I, ( did you observe with what a keen look she eyed you ? I could lay twenty to one that she envied your situation at least as much as you did hers.' " Why, to be sure," said the girl, " there was something in her look that did not exprefs so much happinefs as I expected. What can such a person want? she has but to order it, and it is brought ; I am sure if I had as much money as she has, I should want for nothing that my heart desired ; and then what could make me unhappy !" I smiled at the innocence of this simple girl. ( Yes, my dear,' said I, ( she can certainly order a fine breakfast, and in all probability she may be able to get it in this place. But supposing it should hap- pen that she had not an appetite to relish it, where can she purchase that, do you think? Her servant brings her toast done up in the nicest manner; she tries to eat it, but it will not go down. She complains that the bread is stale, or the butter is rancid. " Take it away, and bring something else." It is taken away, something else is brought, but it is still worse ; she frets, complains that she can get nothing rightly done; suspects that the cook or the servants have been thus crofs to her on purpose; is willing, in short, to lay the blame on any one but where it really rests her own want of appetite; and at last she rises from table unsatisfied and discontented. This is VOL. i. m 178 High life contrasted not the case with you or me. After having walked ten or a dozen miles, we sit down, perhaps, to a plainer meal than this lady, but it appears nice and re- lishing: we feel an inclination to eat, and eat heartily of it: our palate is gratified, our strength is invigo- rated, our spirits are revived; we rise cheerful and happy, and set out again on our journey with ala- crity and pleasure. Which then are the happiest, that lady or ourselves ? or who deserve most to be envied ? You can easily perceive that the lady would be glad to be in our place here ; but I think neither of us would choose to change places, in this instance,, with the lady. You, my good girl, who have lived in the country nearly as free as the birds that nestle in your garden, and, perhaps, as cheerful as they, can form no idea of the restraints, anxieties, and perplexities, to which grandeur subjects its owners ; so that they purchase their finery and show at a price that is infi- nitely beyond their value. An acquaintance of mine, who had lately accefs to court as an afsistant milliner, and had the pleasure of hearing the princefses con- verse with one another, and with her mistrefs, with all the ease and affability imaginable, overheard one of them say to another, as she looked from the win- dow into the park, " What would I give to be but like those young girls who are going cheerfully along unob- served by any one ; they can go out when they please to enjoy the freshnefs of the morning air, and return only when they lose relish for that amusement, while I " She could proceed no farther, a rising tear pre- venting her utterance. Indeed, and indeed, my good girl, their lot is infinitely harder than yours. You go to market; you purchase your breakfast (for it is with lower stations. 179 the exercise that is the price of that nourishing meal, and not the money you pay for it) ; you are interested the whole day in the businefs you have there to trans- act j your attention is kept alive, and your spirits are continually up : on your return home you have much news to communicate; the whole family are anxious to see you, and your spirits are now more active than before. Your sweetheart, perhaps, knowing whi- ther you are gone, and at what hour you will be home, takes care to meet you by the way, and thus steals a delicate opportunity of augmenting his own happinefs by lightening you of your load, and beguiling the time. How delightful is it to be thus relieved ! Tell me honestly, my pretty dear, do you not thus often find the road as you return home shorter than you could wish it to be?' Her glowing countenance, and averted eye, gave the afsent I demanded. f Let me advise you, then,' my dear girl, ( to go on your way re- joicing, and thankful for the lot that Providence has afsigned you in this world; for were you to change it for that of those superior orders which now attract your wishes, you would find, that in proportion as you advanced in show, you only declined in the actual enjoyments of life. When drefsed out in the finest jewels, you would find that they are, as it were, set upon pins, the points of which turned inwards would prick your flesh at every movement, so that you can enjoy no sort of comfort till they are laid aside. Those beds of down, which appear to you so soft, are too often nothing better than a thin cover thrown over a thicket of thorns, whose sharp prickles afford not one moment's repose to the miserable wight who is m 2 18O High life contrasted stretched upon them.' " Blefs me," said 'she, " is that pofsible! I never heard one word of all this be- fore, nor had I any suspicion of things of this sort. I have often wondered why our gentlefolks were all so pale, and had such deadened looks and ghostly ap- pearance so early in life, as I often see; but I wonder riot at it, if they neither can get peace when in drefs, nor repose when in bed." I could not help smiling once more at the innocent simplicity of this poor girl; and I found I had brought myself into an awkward situation by the use of this high-flown figurative lan- guage, from which I knew not well how to disengage myself. ( I do not mean,' said I, ' my dear, that things are literally so. It is only the anxiety they experience about these fineries, which I have repre- sented as if they were pricked with pins when drefsed in diamonds; their pain is not, perhaps, lefs intense, though it is of a different sort; it is not corporeal, but mental pain. When the queen on her birth-day is drefsed in her finest jewels to the value of more than a hundred thousand pounds, she is not deemed safe when surrounded by her best guards, and in the midst of her nearest friends and most tried attendants; she must even, as I have been told, be caged up, as it were, like a goldfinch, to display her finery, but not to be within the reach of any one ; and, even when thus protected, she is not thought secure. I here again speak only figuratively, nothing more is meant than that a slight rail or bar is placed before her ma- jesty, to mark how far it is proper that company should advance. Whatever is of such value as strongly to excite the cupidity of others, can never be accounted quite secure; so that the fear of losing them so pow- with lower stations. 1 8 1 erfully prevails, as to do much more than counter- balance the pleasure that the display of them affords. How many instances have you heard of persons of great fortune being robbed and murdered in their beds for the sake of obtaining those fineries which you co- vet? Their sleep is insecure: nor can the best locks and bars preserve them from alarm ; while you sleep soundly every night, without having ever experienced the smallest sentiment of. danger. Be thankful then, my good girl, for the comforts you enjoy, for they are greater than you are aware of. ' Money can purchase every thing, you fondly think. How little do you know of the real powers of that of which you have pofsefsed so little! a better ac* quaintance with it would soon convince you that you have wonderfully overrated its power. Can money purchase friends? No. It may buy flatterers; it may purchase deceivers; it may bring together to nestle under your roof innumerable cheats and thieves, but a real friend it never can obtain. Surrounded by flat- terers, imposed upon by liars, and watched on all hands by thieves, how little is the lot of those of high rank and affluence to be envied ! A person who has the integrity that constitutes the efsence of a real friend, avoids the society of such a horrid band, as he would the pestilence; and this swarm of blood-suckers, conscious how much it behoves them that no such person should ever obtain free accefs to those they have prepared to devour, take care to represent them in such a light, and to have them treated in such a man- D ' ner, if the least symptom of a rising intimacy between them and the devoted person appears, as effectually to keep them at a distance; yet it has been the will of 182 High life contrasted Heaven, that man should relish no enjoyment without the participation of a friend. It is among the first pro- pensities that manifest themselves in our infant state. If a child is much delighted with a toy, its pleasure is incomplete till it runs to some one to participate with it; and, in the after periods of life, such is the debility of our frames, and the weaknefs of our minds, that we can scarcely exist a day without feeling the want of the soothing participations of a friend. To you and me, whose favour is of so little consequence, as that no interest can ever induce another to counter- feit a kindnefs they do not feel, it is, in some mea- sure, our own fault, if we do not discover who among our acquaintance are most sincerely attached to xis. But such is not the case with those of superior rank: the very persons about them who have the deepest de- signs are, in general, the most afsiduous to recom- mend themselves by feigned attentions; they are sup- ple, plausible, and obliging, till they have gained their point. Is it a wonder that these artful persons should be mistaken for real friends ! but, having once obtained what they aimed at, they wantonly abandon, from that moment, the object they have duped; without remorse, they absolutely ruin the very person whom they pre- tended to adore, and which they never could have ef- fected but under the sacred mask of friendship. Thus for ever deceived, the finest feelings of the heart are gra- dually obliterated among -those in high life; sincerity is deemed a word, the idea exprefsed by which has no real existence in life; confidence is of course annihilated; all are alike deemed cheats, and when trying difficulties at last approach in the evening of life, when the enfeebled spirit stands in need of every soothing consolation, it can with lower stations. 1 83 find no prop on which it can rely; like Noah's dove, it searches every where for a place of rest, but iindeth none; and those who at the dawn of life were idol- ised as little short of divinities, are too often at the end of it exposed to the most cruel neglect. The poet has well described this dismal catastrophe: Neglected, at his utmost time of need, By those his former bounty fed, On the bare earth expos'd he lies, With not one pitying friend to close his eyes. You, my dear girl, who have only yet seen nature in her simplest, purest drefs, can scarcely persuade your- self that such things are pofsible; you think that no human being could be so depraved as to act in this manner. I wish you may ever continue to think so; but, if you are to do so, keep at a distance from the rank in which that lady moves who at the first so strongly excited your envy. My envy she can- not excite; but there was something so soft, and at the same time so severe in the exprefsion of her coun- tenance, that I could not withhold bestowing upon her almost a pitying tear. She was probably formed by nature as healthy, as warm-hearted, as cheerful as you; and, had she been so fortunate as to have been born- to your lot, she might have felt her spirits still as light as yours ; but this she never now can hope to feel. ( Return, then, to your cottage, my good girl, con- tented with your lot; continue to be cheerful your- self, and try to make all around you as happy as you can : thus shall your days glide on in peaceful sere- nity; and, when at last you shall be called upon to pay the debt of nature, you will not want the aid of 184 High life contrasted, &c. a sympathising friend, to mitigate, as much as can be done, the trying events of life, who will drop a tear of pity on your grave. Farewel.' Here I took my leave, and left her to pursue her journey, my road lying another way: and here I find that I have lost the thread of my discourse ; for it was my intention at this time to have finished my obser- vations on the reclusej but you know I abominate every thing that tends to restrain the unbounded sweep of thought, where the mind is interested in it; all threads that have a tendency to hamper the mind in these its native excursions, I view in somewhat the same light as I do the threads of a spider's web, as being calculated to entrap innocent and unwary ram- blers, and thus greatly to curtail the pleasures of life. Vive la lagatelle was the favourite maxim of one of the most eminent men, in some respects, that this country has produced; my maxim is, to make the best of every thing, and never to lose the idea which presents itself at the moment, in contemplation of something else which does not then interest you : Since this fleeting life's but a journey at best, Let us strew the way over with flowers. "Whatever thine hand findeth to do," it has been said, " do it with all thy might." It is an excellent maxim. Why should we lose the pleasure of the present mo T ment in hopes that another more pleasing may arrive at a distant period? I feel more satisfaction than I have felt for some time past, in indulging the idea, that I had been casually perhaps, in some measure, the means of rendering this innocent girl more contented and happy in her progrefs through life than she might have On the Gooseberry Caterpillar. 185 been had I not fortunately fallen in with her; and, like an infant who has got a plaything that makes its little heart beat high with joy, I run with it to you with all the speed I can, that you also may participate in my satisfaction. You, perhaps, may smile at the insig- nificance of the trifle which delights me. Be it so: but still you are pleased with the innocency that can be delighted with such a trifle. The consciousnefs of this gives additional pleasure to TIMOTHY HAIRBRAIN. On the Gooseberry Caterpillar. As the gooseberry caterpillar is now committing great devastations in the gardens, it may prove agree- able to many of my readers to be informed how the progrefs of this destructive reptile may be easily check- ed, and the bushes and fruit preserved. But let not his chagrin slacken his industry, on being told that we have no wonderful arcanum to dis- close, no expensive process to describe, nor any pa- tent powder to recommend which is to perform won- ders; our secret is nothing more than one which, though it has been known to be capable of performing wonders for thousands of years past, has never yet had the good fortune to obtain the approbation- of brilliant improvers. Like the operations of nature, though its effects be irresistibly powerful, yet its procefs is so insensible, as not to be perceived but by the few who know and silently practise it. This is nothing else than a little well timed attention and care. Nay, start not at the idea of having thy dignity lowered, by demeaning you to such humble offices as are gene- 186 On the Gooseberry Caterpillar. rally comprehended in this description. Hath not a great authority said, " Go to the ant, thou sluggard, and learn of her to be wise?" Those who are not ashamed to take a lefson from an insect, will not be degraded by copying after the succefsful practice of some of the most judicious among their own species. What I shall now recommend I have seen succefsfully for many years adopted; and, if duly attended to, I have reason to believe it will never fail. My recipe then is, to notice the bushes with care, as you walk through your garden, towards the begin- ning of June, and, whenever you perceive the appear- ance of a leaf stripped by the caterpillar, instantly ex- amine the place, with a view to eradicate the disease. You will always perceive that the first appearance of this malady is towards the bottom of the bush. If one "X leaf be eaten up, you may be afsured. the caterpillars have been there; and if you search with care, you will infallibly find them. This is a gregarious reptile, and while they are young they herd very close together; so that at this early period you will frequently find the whole nest upon one leaf; and by picking off that leaf you destroy the whole at once. As they advance in size they grow more hardy and separate more, and therefore spread upon a number of leaves at once; but, before they have attained the size of half an inch in length, they are generally found in large clusters, and may be easily destroyed. Their progrefs is always from the bottom upwards; and you will generally find them upon those leaves on the same branch that are immediately above those that have been already eaten and abandoned, leaving only the hard ribs of the leaf standing. They always fix on the under side of the On the Gooseberry Caterpillar. 187 leaf, and begin to gnaw off its edges. If they have but newly fixed on the leaf, you will perceive no indica- tions of them there when viewed from above; but, if you see the least bit wanting on one side of a leaf, you may conclude they are there: these leaves, and all you suspect, should be pulled off by pinching away the foot- stalk with the thumb gently, so as not to shake them off; though they adhere to it so firmly when thus small, as not to be easily disengaged from it. If there be several leaves in one tuft, they may be all taken off at once; or, if the malady appears upon a young shoot of this year (which is very often the case), the easiest and shortest way is to take away the whole branch entirely. All the leaves thus picked off should be either carried away in a basket, or laid in a heap upon the ground at some distance from the bush, and crushed by the foot before you leave them; for it is an active reptile, and, if left in life, may regain the tree afterwards. If this operation be performed with due attention at a sufficiently early period, few will escape: nor is it a tedious procefs; for the most part twenty or thirty large bushes may be thus cleared by one person in the space of an hour, not one of which would perhaps have been left with a single leaf upon it, had no pains been bestowed upon them. But it is not right to trust to once searching only, for, in spite of ever so much attention, it will often hap- pen that a whole loaded leaf will escape unnoticed ; and more frequently a few stragglers will pafs unobserved. It is right, therefore, to look at the bushes afterwards, to see if any more leaves are bitten, and to pick them off after the same manner. This becomes the more necefsary, because the eggs do not all hatch at one 188 On the Black Bean -puceron. time, so that a whole brood may be hatched after your first search, which would, of course, totally es- cape, were it no farther attended to. The task is easy if taken in time, and many thousands may be thus destroyed in the space of an hour; but if they be once suffered to disperse, and have fixed themselves about the middle of the bushes, among the small leaves that spring out from old wood, the task then becomes much more difficult: so that never could the old adage, that (f a stitch in time saves nine," be better applied than here; but, instead of nine, you may say nineteen, or perhaps ninety. I would recommend it to those who wish to try the efficacy of this mode of proceeding, never to depend upon the efforts of others to ascertain whether it is effectual or not. They may order servants to practise it; but, if they wish never to be deceived, let them make choice of one, two, or more bushes, to be picked by themselves only, and they will thus with little trouble satisfy themselves whether it be practicable or not, and can check their servants if they attempt to impose on them. On the Black Bean-puceron. MANY of my readers must have felt the damage that was produced among the garden beans last year by a small black puceron, which fixed upon their tops in immense numbers, and gradually spread over the whole. These insects are not uncommon; and, though they do not make their appearance every year, yet it is proper that every person should be prepared to avert the danger when it threatens, especially as it can be effected in gardens without any extraordinary degree On the Black Bean-puceron. 1 89 of exertion. As that insect usually begins its ravages at this season of the year, perhaps I could not choose a 'more proper time than the present for suggesting a few precautionary hints upon that subject. The doctrine of equivocal generation being now ex- ploded, we are naturally led into a train of research which, if pursued for a sufficient length of time, will enable us to know so much of the mode in which various insects are produced and nourished, as greatly to extend our power over them. The insect now in question is so small and light as to be often carried by the wind from one plant to another for a small distance, and thus from a small beginning, if it be neglected, extensive mischief may be occasioned ; so that it would, on some occasions perhaps, be very eco- nomical in the farmers of a district to contribute among them, so as to pay the damage that would arise to a particular person, for having the whole crop of the field in which they first began totally destroyed at once, to prevent them from going farther; but in gardens, to which we confine these remarks, a lefs violent re- medy will do. They seldom appear till after the beans are in blofsom; and, if they be carefully watched, it will be often found that they are confined to a small extent. I have seen a row of beans greatly tainted with that malady at its first appearance, while another at the distance of six or eight feet had none. At the beginning; the top leaves and blofsom alone are af- D D r fected; these appear crumpled together and full of blackish specks: whenever this is perceived, the tops should all be cut off, as is usual to make beans fill well. If care be taken to leave none that are tainted, the malady will be removed, and no damage sustained. 190 Notices. To the Reader*. THE difsertation on wheel-carriages, which was in- tended for this number, is necefearihr postponed, to give way for other matter that it was judged would prove more acceptable to many of our readers; as is also the letter of Castigat&r, the critique on the Alle- gro and Comus of Milton, and the communication signed A Reader. The same apology must be offered to Fmtfiimi^ far oar not having hitherto been able to find room for the notices we promised to give of the island of Madagas- car, from the MS. account of the lofe of the Win- terton East Indiaman, with which we were furnished by Dr. Anderson of Madras. It has been ready for insertion in each number, but never yet has been able to force its way through the crowd which claimed pre- cedence of it with an importunity that could not be resisted. It is still forthcoming. The same thing may be said of another eisay, which a few who have seen the MS. claim with no small de- gree of importunity. It contains an account of a par- ticular mode of writing, which might be easily ac- quired by any person who chose it, by the applica- tion of one hour a day for two or three months con- tinuance only; and by the help of which any two per- sons who had both acquired it, could easily correspond together ho a manner that should be perfectly intelli- gible to either party, although neither of them un- derstood one syllable of the language that was used by the other; and each of them, when they made Notices. 191 use of this character, would be able to exprefs every idea that occurred to him with much greater ease and precision than he could exprefs it by the words of his own native language, and with a promptitude and ra- pidity that far exceeds any other mode of writing that has been hitherto adopted in Europe. But the Editor, who knows the aversion that mankind in general have to give credence to what seems to promise more than they have been accustomed to see done, and the pro- pensity to believe, without a due degree of investiga- tion, that every thing of that sort is impofsible, feels lefs inclination to bring forward the first notice of any great practical improvement, than he otherwise should have done. Yet the experience of every day shews the futility of supposing every thing to be impofsible that has not been practised. Taking things in this point of view, how many impofsibilities do each of us see performed every day of our lives? They are so numerous, that it would require a volume to display them all. Did not our forefathers deem it utterly impofsible to cause ships to sail upwards from the sea, ascend mountains, pafs over roads, and sail under rivers ? yet these impossibilities we see every day per- formed with ease. Did not our forefathers deem it impofsible to disarm the thunder of its power, or to perform a thousand operations in electricity, which a child can now execute with ease ? Did they not deem it impofsible, by means of a* little heated water, to produce a power that has scarcely an equal for energy in the universe ? Did they once think it pofeible, by means of a small bar of iron, to direct our course in the midst of the vast ocean, where nothing but immeasurable 1 92 Notices. expanse of space bounded the eye, or even where im- penetrable darknefs prevails ? Did they, I say, under these circumstances, think it pofsible, with such a feeble afsistant, to go still forward with certainty to any point on the surface of the earth that we might wish to reach? Did they think it pofsible to make a powder which they could carry in their pocket with ease, and which might be employed for bursting asunder, in the twinkling of an eye, adamantine rocks themselves, or scatter in the air the most mafsy buildings, as a puff of wind might disperse a parcel of feathers? These things, however, and a thousand others, that seemed to the eye of ignorance to be equally Jmpofsible, we have all seen done; yet still we talk of the impofsi- bility that another should perform a thing with ease which we have not yet seen done, because we do not comprehend how it can be effected. One would think that such reiterated experience of the fallacy of judging thus would have so much reprefsed the pre- sumptuous vanity of man, as to render him at least ashamed to own that he could be guilty of so much rashnefs, and never to pronounce till he had heard every circumstance fairly explained, and had taken pains to prepare himself to understand every part of the illustration, by a careful study of every particular respecting it that it was necefsary for him to know, before he could form an accurate judgment concerning it. We are not, however, as yet arrived at that stage in the advancement of science; and how long it may be before we do so, it is impofsible to say. RECREATIONS ARTS AND LITERATURE. 1" AUGUST 1799. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. I FIND, Mr. Editor, you are a critic too; not one of those tame insignificant beings who nibble at some feeble pafsage of a namelefs author, in order to show their own dexterity or superior discernment, but a perfect Drawcansir of a critic, who hesitates not to attack one of the greatest of our poets; and, glorying in your prowefs, like Alexander himself when inspired by the fumes of wine, having once brought the mighty low, " Thrice you kill the dead, and thrice you slay the slain." I confefs I could not but admire at the whole of your answer to the gentle Mira, as it stands in the third number of your miscellany, and cannot say whether your elaborate parody on the sublime lines of Pope tended most to excite my risible faculties, or those of another kind, which, out of delicacy to you, and re- VOL. i. n 1 94 Castigator. spect for myself, I decline to name. And dost thoa really think, Mr. Editor, that " an honest man is not the noblest work of God?" I would fain wish to know where you ever met with a finer line of poetry than that is ! You characterise true poetry as bearing the conviction of the reader, as it were, instinctively along with it; if this does not reach your heart, sir, and carry you along with it, I suspect it must be composed of materials different from the commonj for I think few will fail to recognise the justnefs as well as elegant propriety of the remark. The far- famed bard of Twickenham, as you sarcastically name him, was famed before the time, as I conceive, that you was born, and will continue to be famed, as I apprehend, long after you shall have ceased to nibble at his divine performances. Were you to proceed after this manner, I do not know which of our poets could hope to escape your pestiferous attacks ; but it is fortunate that the power to do mischief is seldom commensurate with the will. One would think that envy had given an edge to your malice; yet I have never heard that you had any pretensions to the name of poet. Let me advise you, then, to respect charac- ters that are greatly and justly admired, if you wish to shun the fate of the unfortunate Icarus, whose feeble wings gave way when he ventured beyond the region in which he had been accustomed to move. Remember the old adage, " ne sutor ultra crepi- dam." Banks of the THAMES, CASTIGATOR. June 10th, 1790. Castigator. 195 The Editor returns thanks to this angry writer for the wholesome advice with which the above epistle is concluded, to which he shall endeavour to pay a due degree of attention. Little did he think that the few hints he casually threw out to his young correspondents could have given rise to a charge of the serious nature here urged against him. To be an accomplished cri- tic in poetry requires talents of a kind very different from those to which, at the youngest time of his life, he had ever the vanity to aspire. To form this cha- racter, he conceives that to a sound philosophical judg- ment must be superadded the afflatus divinus, as an- cient critics have denominated the poetic talent, to which the Editor never could urge the smallest claim. Conscious of this want however in himself, it is by no means impofsible for him to perceive the same defect in others; and, sensible as he is of the tire- somenefs which poetical efforts without that talent in general produce, he conceives it to be his duty to guard his readers from the danger of being subjected to it ; and, willing to free himself, as much as pofsible, from the disagreeable task of rejecting individually many pieces of this description that might probably have been tendered to him, he saw no harm in giving certain cautions which might contribute towards that object. It was to supply his own want of powers that he adduced the example which hath given such of- fence, for otherwise his meaning might have been mistaken; but the example was so plain, that he scarcely thought it could give rise to any misconcep- tion: the above letter shews that in this respect he n 2 196 On Poetry. has misjudged. " One verse for sense" he readily admitted, and this verse his correspondent has, not without justice, characterised as good; " one for rhime" he also admitted; nor will this correspondent, he pfesurhes, defend the fellow of the line he has quoted with so much applause. This example was adduced merely to shew that, if a man were to mark down at his leisure hours all the good thoughts that might come into his mind, and put these into proper measure, and then try to get another line that would make rhyme with each of them, he might find this a very easy task, without pofsefsing any poetic powers whatever; and that, if a string of these verses thus formed were put down after each other, a number of very good verses might be thus produced, though these could not, in his opinion, be justly called a poem, nor the person who produced them a poet. Whether Mr. Pope deserves that name or not, taking his works upon the whole, he left others to say; it was no part of his ami at that time to enter into the discufsion. Criticism, to be useful, must either tend to point out the beauties or the defects of eminent authors-, for weak minds, unable to discriminate, are apt to imitate the defects of an admired writer. In this view it was a compliment rather than otherwise to Mr. Pope, to have one of his verses selected as an example. Perhaps an undue reverence for great names hath tended more to cripple the powers of the human mind than any thing else. It was this circumstance that made Aris- totle the guide to our schools for so many ages. Nor was it a want of respect for the powers of Aristotle On Poetry. 197 that made Bacon endeavour to set aside his authority in the schools. Perhaps few men had ever a juster veneration for that great philosopher than Bacon; but he saw the retardment in science which this venera- tion had produced, and therefore set himself boldly to unloose those fetters that had been kept fast locked for so many ages. The Editor wishes, in all cases, to judge for himself: to judge with cautious circumspec- tion, it is true, where he differs from others of great name; but still to judge; and he wishes all his readers to do so. On this plan, he knows not the works of any writer which deserve indiscriminate applause, Milton, he will readily admit, is, in some respects, a poet of the first order; yet even Milton's works have faults. Some of his most favoured pieces he would even hesitate about admitting into the rank of poesy. Our correspondent, whose respect for names seems to be very great, would doubtlefs stare, should the famed Allegro be adduced as an example of this sort. Yet the Editor sees no reason for hesitating to place this famed poem among the productions of the head, whose excellence consists principally in its rich poesy of style. In respect to numbers, it is flowing and har- monious, like every attempt at verse which fell from Milton's pen; but, in regard to sentiment and power, it might be characterised as forced and uninteresting. Does any man who reads this poem believe, does any one feel that Milton was in a cheerful mood when it was written? Where are the " Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles," that charm the fancy, and play around the heart? Does the reader feel their power? Is he enrapt in the giddy 198 On Milton's Allegro. delirium of the poet? No such thing; he contemplates the verses unmoved; he says they are pretty, very pretty; but he is himself sedate arid grave: " Nods and becks, and wreathed smiles, Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, And love to live in dimple sleek; Sport that wrinkled Care derides, And Laughter holding both his sides. Sometime walking, not unseen, By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green, Right against the eastern gate, Where the great sun begins his state, Rob'd in flames, and amber light, The clouds in thousand liv'ries dight, While the plowman near at hand Whistles o'er the furrow' d land, And the milk-maid singeth blithe, And the mower whets his scythe, And ev'ry shepherd tells his tale Under the hawthorn in the dale." Who can deny that these verses are pretty ? but into whose bosom have they ever transfused the smallest particle of mirth? The entire poem is a choice col- lection of beautiful objects, culled together with the most studious care through the whole range of the author's acquaintance with the scenes of nature and of art. They are spread out before the reader, like the treasures of king Hezekiah, as a pompous display of the whole wealth he hath been able to collect together: no one is deceived by it; no one is enchanted; many are surprised, many are astonished at the brilliancy of the display; but when they look inwards they per- On Milton's Comus. 199 ceive their minds eool and serene. They feel some- what like those who have contemplated treasures of which they are destined never to participate. The pageant has pafsed away, and their spirits are not ele- vated in the smallest degree more than if they had never read it. The mind of Milton seems to have been altogether unsusceptible of the lighter imprefsions of mirth; and, since he had resolved to write upon that subject, he could do it in no other way than he has done. Sublimity alone is his natural walk; every attempt to display the lighter emotions of the mind, and the delicate feelings of the heart, in his hands prove abortive, only in as far as his exquisite numbers help them out. Milton, in his Comus, having gone into a walk more congenial to his own state of mind, speaks with much greater efficacy and power. If Milton's mind ever relaxed from the severity which was natural to it, it was only while it was controuled by the charms of melodious sounds. While under this imprefsion him- self, with what inconceivable energy does he make Comus exprefs its influence ! " Sure something holy lodges in that breast, And with these raptures moves the vocal air To testify his hidden residence. How sweetly did they float upon the wings Of silence, through the empty-vaulted night, At every fall smoothing the raven down Of darknefs till it smil'd ! I have oft heard My mother Circe, with the syrens three, Who, as they sung, would take the prison 'd soul, 20O On Milton's Comus. And lap it in Elysium. - But such a sacred and home-felt delight, Such sober certainty of waking blifs, I never till now heard." In the above pafsage a few lines are omitted, in which Milton, drawn aside by his irresistible partiality for heathen mythology', has perhaps weakened, in some degree, the effect. In what follows, the same subject is resumed with lefs extraneous matter blended with it: " At last a soft and solemn breathing sound Rose like a steam of rich distill'd perfumes, And stole upon the air, that even Silence Was took ere she was ware [and wish'd she might Deny her nature, and be never more, Still to be so displac'd]. I was all ear, And took in strains that might create a soul Under the ribs of death." These lines could only have been dictated by powerful feelings of the heart : and to such as have felt similar imprefsions they speak unutterable things. It is in doing this, and in its easy flow of numbers which bear the soul along as in a powerful stream, that poesy ex- ceeds prose; and not in the cprrectnefs of versification, the justnefs of a simile, nor the trim neatnefs of a stanza. Pity that Milton could not resist indulging the conceit, quaint, though beautiful, that we have in- cluded above in brackets ! It is, however, in the walk of sublimity and rigid virtue that Milton puts forth all his powers, and rises even superior to himself. In the soft and tender he has On Milton's Comus. 201 many superiors; but in this department of the sublime perhaps he has no equal. Virtue, he says, " Virtue could see to do what virtue would By her own radiant light, though sun and moon Were in the flat sea sunk. [And Wisdom's self Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude, Where, with her best nurse, Contemplation, She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings, That in the various bustle of resort Were all too ruffled, and sometimes impair'd.] He that has light within his own clear breast May sit i' the centre, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts. Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; Himself is his own dungeon." And again, in contemplating the excellence of chas- tity : She has .... yet a hidden strength, Which, if Heav'n gave it, may be term'd her own; 'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity : She that has that, is clad in complete steel, And, like a quiver'd nymph with arrows keen May trace huge forests, and unharbour'd heaths, Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds, Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, No savage fierce, bandite, or mountaineer, Will dare to soil her virgin purity : Yea there, where very desolation dwells By grots, and caverns shagg'd with horrid shades, She may pafs on with unblench'd majesty, Be it not done in pride, or in presumption. What was that snaky-headed gorgon shield 202 On Miltoji's Comus. That wise Minerva wore, unconquer'd virgin, Wherewith she freez'd her foes to congeal'd stone, But rigid looks of chaste austerity, And noble grace that dash'd brute violence With sudden adoration, and blank awe? So dear to Heav'n is saintly chastity, That, when a soul is found sincerely so, A thousand liv'ried angels lackey her, Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt, And, in clear dream, and solemn vision, Tell her of things that no grofs ear can hear, Till oft converse with heav'nly habitants, Begin to cast a beam on th' outward shape, The unpolluted temple of the mind, And turn it by degrees to the soul's efsence, Till all be made immortal." Thus he makes the brother speak: but when the lady herself deigns to reprehend the artful plans that crafty Vice had framed to entrap her, she afsumes a sacred air of dignity that scarce indeed seems mortal: " Shall I go on ? Or have I said enough ? To him that dares Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words Against the sun-clad pow'r of chastity, Fain would I something say, yet to what end? Thou hast nor ear, nor soul to apprehend The sublime notion, and high mystery, That must be utter'd to unfold the sage And serious doctrine of virginity, And thou art worthy that thou should'st not know More happinels than this thy present lot. Enjoy your dear wit and gay rhetoric, That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence; On Milton's Comus. . 203 Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinc'd j Yet, should I try, the uncontrouled worth Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits To such a flame of sacred vehemence, That dumb tilings would be mov'd to sympathise, And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and shake, Till all thy magic structures, rear'd so high, Were shatter' d into heaps o'er thy false head. Such is the language of true poetry, such the strains that with spontaneous swell of vivid thought burst from the enraptured mind of those who think with energy. How vast the distance between this and those feeble productions of the head, that with labo- rious effort are solely busied in coldly joining together whole rows of stanzas, like beads attached to each other; not linked together as with a chain that cannot be difsevered, but tied by a slender thread which only forms so slight a union that a touch may disunite them, and each disjointed part be nearly still as good as when they were together. Some apology might be offered for making such long extracts from a poem that is already so well known; but few, it is hoped, will deem it necefsary here. Had Milton never written more than the single poem of Comus, his name would have become im- mortal. It discovers as much vigour of thought and energy of exprefsion as perhaps any other of his works, and exhibits more of the attractive fervor of youth than any of his larger performances : though even here we discern plain traces of that seriousnefs of thought, and grandeur of imagination, which gave rise to those striking figures that so peculiarly characterise his 204 Philogynes on Female Profligacy. Paradise Lost. A man pofsefsing such treasures may easily part with some childish gewgaws, which may have afforded him a pafsing amusement in an hour of relaxation, while the mind was under the temporary influence of some extraneous power. Whether does the man who wishes to separate the gold from the drofs, or he who endeavours to pafs drofs upon the world for gold, discover the most friendly good will to the author? Reprehension may certainly proceed from friendship, as well as from envy. The above, which was written before the favour from a Constant Reader was received, renders any farther answer to that letter unnecefsary, To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. SIR, As you seem disposed to combine with more scientific objects such of the pafsing events of the day as regard the state of public morals and man- ners, it may not be thought presumptuous to addrefs you on a subject which of late has more than ever prefsed itself on the attention of the public; I mean what is generally known by the polite abbreviations, crim. con. We cannot look into a newspaper (and you know, sir, it is impofsible to exist in the metro- polis without looking into a newspaper), I say we can scarcely take up any paper without the words Westminster Hall, Trial for Crim. Con. staring us in the face. So frequent have these been, that not only the judges but the counsel, with all their surplus elo- Philogynes on Female Profligacy. 205 quence, are at a lofs how to advance any thing new upon the subject, or vary their old mode of reasoning. It is not my design, however, to make many moral reflections on this subject, nor even to say how much the age is disgraced by these repeated instances of profligacy in the higher orders of the sex. All this is too obvious not to occur to the most inconsiderate mind. I purpose only to take notice of a mode of alleviation which has lately been adopted by some ingenious counsellors for the defendant, and which, I humbly presume, ought to create some alarm in the minds of husbands. It has been the practice to bring witnefses to prove that the husband neglected his wife, permitted her to go into company without him, and was frequently absent for months during the hunting and shooting seasons. Now, although, in the cases I allude to, these arguments happened not to amount to a complete justification of the frail fairj yet let me ask whether they do not amount to the establishment of two positions : first, that it is the duty of a husband to guard and watch his wife; and secondly, that a wife requires a great deal of guarding and watching? And if these propositions are established, what a vast ad- dition is here made to the cares of the wedded state? In what manner, sir, is a husband to take all these precautions? Supposing, what it is very proper to sup- pose, that crim. con. is a species of domestic rebellion, and that elopement is an overt act of high treason against the majesty of the husband, in what manner shall we prevent those crimes? Having given this matter some consideration, I shall venture to suggest a few hints, although without pro- 206* Pkilogynes on Female Profligacy. fefsing to offer any thing like a perfect remedy, un- lefs the legislature will please to afsist me. I have compared crim. con. to rebellion ; and there will ap- pear a pretty strong resemblance, if we consider what are most generally the causes of rebellion both national and domestic. It cannot, I flatter myself, be denied that the influence of French principles has had a very powerful operation ; for the vices of the upper clafses may be very easily traced to an imitation of French manners, which has long been the pride as well as the disgrace of those who enjoyed what is called a polite education. It will be necefsary, therefore, in the first place to remove this cause, by a severe pro- hibition of those inflammatory publications, which as certainly excite mutiny and disaffection in a family, as others of a different tendency do in a state. Among these may be reckoned a very considerable number of novels. A second cause for rebellion is the becoming mem- bers of certain societies, which meet for the exprefs purpose of overturning the laws and regulations of the family, of creating a revolution in the heavenly bodies, by which day is either quite abolished, or turned into night, and where secret conspiracies are hatched against the peace, honour, and safety of their sove- reign lords and husbands, contrary to many existing statutes in the code of morals, and exprefsly contrary to the letter as well as the spirit of common decency. If the looks of those societies (which are commonly called the devil's looks} be inspected, it will be seen what a tendency they have to bring on poverty and its never-failing consequences in weak minds. Philogynes on Female Profligacy. 207 These societies are very numerous, and, as none are admitted without tickets or cards, it may be easily conceived that they can for a long time evade the eye of the law; but, as various events have lately developed their constitutions, they cannot be much longer con-> cealedj and, indeed, no one can plead ignorance of them, if he will but attend to the secret reports which are often published, and apparently by persons ap- pointed for the purpose. Now, sir, in order to remove this cause, let us bor- row another hint from the wisdom of the state, and extend to them the laws enacted against seditious meetings. Were they once restricted to so small a number as fifty, I am persuaded it would tend to the entire abolition of them ; for their full force and effi- cacy are never excited in any number under five hun- dred, as we may read in the reports I have alluded to. Indeed, so bold have they lately been, as to denomi- nate their meetings routs, a name originally given by those who dislike them, and hereby imitating the French, who, when nick-named sans culottes, adopted that as an honourable title, and invented a word to exprefs their breechlefs principles, sans culottism ! \ see great resemblance here, and should not wonder if routism were used to exprefs the principles and prac- tices of those who frequent such societies, and who turn all domestic duties topsy-turvy. A third precaution, very necefsary in the present case, and drawn likewise from political analogy, would . be an alien bill, prohibiting all intercourse or trade with the enemy, especially in pecuniary matters, which is much promoted by the Looks above men- 208 Philngynes on Female Profligacy. tioned ; prohibiting also all leaving of home to go into foreign countries, such as Brighton, Margate, &c. Indeed, such actions are not only of a rebellious ten- dency, but most frequently end in high treason and open defiance of all domestic law. Nor can the parties offending against this statute plead the usual quibble of not having sworn allegiance, because we know that in all cases of matrimonial naturalization the parties begin with a very solemn oath, the efficacy of which is, by mutual consent, to last till death do them part. Mark, sir, death! not a colonel of dragoons, or any other common wall of partition. These, I presume, are the chief points of defence which a husband can set up, if he is expected to guard and watch against the intrusions and invasions of fo- reign gallantry. But now, sir, must it not appear that this is converting, I should say perverting, matrimony from a state of comfort and peace, to a state of alarm and warfare? With humble submifsion to the barristers " learned in the law," who have, rather than myself, suggested these preventives, a wife must now appear in the unpleasing light of a most dangerous enemy, against whom we are ever to be on the watch day and night, summer and winter j dreading at one time a junction with the enemy's troops in St. James's Street, and at another kept on the fret by skirmishing parties at camps and watering places) now turning pale at the sight of a card of invitation, then quaking on the entrance of a captain of the militia; apprehensive of imminent danger if she goes into a crowd, and trem- bling for worse evils if she be left alone. And are these the comforts of matrimony? Arc Philogynes on Female Profligacy. 209 these an equivalent for the safety and security of celi- bacy? Verily, Mr. Editor, while the advisers of this system pay the worst pofsible compliment to one sex, they inflict the heaviest punishment on the other. Have we no comparison mbre feminine, more lovely, more tender, to employ towards a wife ? Is there no- thing more safe, more comfortable, lefs dangerous, whereunto she may be likened, than a barrel of gun- powder? And lastly, sir, for I do not wish to engrofs the room that may be better filled, how long has it been since the fair sex acquired such inflammability of dis- position as to be ready to go off at the very sight of a spark ? I hope, sir, numerous as the instances are of such combustible machines, (manufactured, I verily believe, like squibs and crackers, to make a bounce and divert the circles of fashion) I say, sir, I hope that no one will take his character of the sex from such instances. I know as much of natural-history as informs me that, when we wish to characterise a spe- cies, it is from the best of that species that we form our judgment, and not from the lusus naturae; and I trust that, notwithstanding the ingenuity displayed in defending crim. con. the greater part of the world are averse to mingling virtue and vice, and palliating one bad action by another. I trust that the majority of the sex are not yet so senselefs, as to think their hus- bands' crimes an apology for their own, or that the family which has been neglected by a debauchee, ought to be disgraced by a prostitute. I am, sir, yours, PHILOGYNES, VOL. I. O 2 10 On cooling Houses. Hints tending to point out the lest mode of construct- ing houses in warm climates, so as to insure a de- sirable state of coolness during the hottest seasons of the year, with cursory remarks on ice-houses, &c. SINCE the former part of this efsay was written (observations on hot- walls, page 152) I have perused the very ingenious efsays of count Rumford on the propagation of heat in fluids, and am happy to find that every observation I have there made is fully eon- firmed by the experiments of that beneficent investi- gator j nor have I had occasion to alter, on that ac- count, a single article in the efsay that follows, though this efsay (as well as the former) depends upon phy- sical principles that were known and fully established long before that philosopher was born. I shall, how- ever, beg leave to premise a few particulars, with a view to remove a sort of embarrafsment that might be felt by such as have read those efsays, on account of some phrases that have been used by that philosopher, which I have not found it necefsary to adopt upon the present occasion. I do not enter here into the question of the non-con- ducting power of air respecting heat, in the view that count Rumford has given of it, for two reasons; first, because it would lead into intricate difcufsions respect- ing the influence of condensation and rarefaction, of comprefsion and expansion, 8cc. which would neither suit the nature of this miscellany, nor be compatible with my other occupations at the present time; and in On cooling Houses. 211 the next place, because I deem it unnecefsary, inasmuch as that the phenomena which I shall describe must, at all events, take place in the circumstances mentioned; and, if count Rumford's positions shall be at last in- controvertibly established, it can only tend to aug- ment the influence of every measure that I shall ad- vise, and to give it a power greater than that on which I have reckoned. Count Rumford has taken notice of a diversity that subsists among many bodies in regard to their power of conducting heat, which has been known (though not particularly adverted to) for ages. A metallic dish, every one knows, is more suddenly heated when boil- ing water is poured into it than a wooden one. A similar diversity he has observed prevails among fluid bodies, some of them being rendered hot much sooner than others when a heated body is placed near them. The first he denominates conductors of heat, or cold; the last, non-conductors, or conductors more or lefs perfect, according to the degree of quicknefs or slow- nefs by which the heat can be transmitted through them. He has proved, by many experiments, that air among fluids is a very bad conductor of heat, or next to a perfect non-conductor; at the same time he admits that air may be made a very convenient vehicle for carrying heat from one body to another. Many readers will find a difficulty to discriminate be- tween these two phrases. To prevent the embarrafs- ment that may originate from this source, I think it necefsary to premise, that all the phenomena I shall have occasion to illustrate will clearly depend upon the quality that air so eminently pofsefses of transporting o 2 212 Of air as a transporter heat, and that we shall not have occasion to investigate its non-conducting power in any other respects. That air, when it comes into contact with a heated body, is susceptible of being thus heated and greatly expanded thereby, is a fact which is well known; that it is even more sensibly affected by small degrees of heat than most other bodies, we know is clearly demon- strated by the unequalled sensibility of the air ther- mometer; but that in many circumstances it should be incapable of transmitting heat laterally is very ob- vious from the extreme mobility of the particles of that fluid, owing to the established laws of statics. That the reader may have a distinct notion of the variations that must necefsarily take place in regard to the power of air to transmit heat under different circumstances, let him suppose that AB, Fig. 1, represents a jar placed in an atmosphere the heat of which is below the freezing point, in which is placed a smaller vefseJ filled with ice or snow; let a heated body C, be applied to one side of the jar; the heat from that body would instantly warm and expand the particle of air immediately with- in the glafs opposite to itself; that heated particle would instantly become buoyant, and of course would rise upwards, sliding along the inside of the glafs the whole way to A, where it would be difsipated by rising higher in the atmosphere. Its place would be imme- diately supplied by cold particles, which, being again heated in their turn, would also fly off; so that the of heat or cold. 213 heated body might be continued there for any length of time without producing any sensible effect upon the ice in the smaller vefsel. Under these circumstances a coating of air, surrounding any body, must tend in a more effectual manner to preserve that body from being affected by external heat, than any solid covering that could be applied to it. But let the circumstances be changed as in Fig. 2. When the heated body was applied at C, the internal air would be warmed as before; but instead of escaping as before when it rose upwards to A, finding there no opening to escape (the vefsel being supposed to be inverted and placed on a table), the heated particle would slide into the highest cavity, where it would be forced to remain; other heated particles ' succefsively following it, they must of necefsity there accumulate, so as quickly to surround the upper part of the phial, which would be first acted upon by the atmosphere of heated air which surrounds it, and the ice at top would, of course, be first thawed by it. This heated atmosphere would be gradually extended downwards, if the heating body were continued, until it descended to the very bottom, where, in consequence of its expansion, a part of it would be forced out. Under these circum- stances air, in consequence of its carrying power, be- comes a very ready, and a very powerful diffuser of heat, so that the ice in that situation would be very readily thawed by it. 214 Air may le employed to transmit Again, if the heated body, instead of being applied to the side, were applied directly under the bottom of the phial, as at D, Fig. 3, it would dif- Fig. 3. fuse the heat to the phial much more effectually than in the other case; for, in the former case, as the particles of air which were heated at C rose di- rectly upwards close to the inside of the jar till they reached A, they com- municated no heat to the phial, until, by their accumulation at the top, they gradually diffused themselves around it, and, by degrees, reached the bottom; but, in the last case, a particle of air is no sooner heated at D than it rushes directly upwards, till it strikes upon the bottom of the phial, and is there forced to spread on each side till it becomes as wide as the bottom of the phial, when it slides up the edges of that phial till it reach the top; and, as a continued stream of heated air must thus surround the phial during its ascent to the top, that phial must be more quickly heated than any other place within the jar, so that the melting of the ice must thereby be greatly accelerated. Thus are we enabled to perceive that air, under proper management, may be employed as a powerful agent, alike for the transmifsion of heat to, or for the exclusion of it from any body, as shall best suit our purpose at the time; and, as atmospheric air can be obtained at all times, and in every pofsible situation, without any expense, it would seem that the author of nature had dispensed this universal boon with such or to exclude heat at pleasure. 2 1 5 beneficent liberality for the purpose of our accommo- dation, and as a reward for our industry and appli- cation. Air, however, can be only thus employed by man when it is in a stagnant state; when it is in a state of motion, it becomes the most powerful as well as the most universal agent in nature for transporting heat or cold from one place to another, and for producing very extensive effects upon this universe. The extreme cold produced by violent easterly winds in this climate is well known; and the suffocating hot winds in Persia, the scorching winds called Hermattans on the coast of Africa, and other topical currents of warm air in different parts of the globe, which are absolutely de- structive of animal life, prove in a demonstrative man- ner the irresistible power of air as a vehicle for transporting heat. Sea and land breezes, which are currents of air produced in tropical regions by the presence or the absence of the sun under particular modifications, afford another kind of demonstration of the same sort. It is only when these currents are interrupted for a time, that the power of the sun in heating the air, as its rays are reverberated from the surface of the earth so as to establish a perpendicular current, is fully experienced; and which, if not care- fully excluded from our habitations, would render them intolerable to live in. The following simple mode of excluding these and all other currents of heated air, and for preserving a perpetual and refreshing coolnefs in houses within the tropical regions, it is hoped, will be found to be equally easy in the execution, as effica- cious in every case. 2 1 6 Way to construct houses that shall Count Rumford has taken notice of the benefits that are derived in cold countries from the use of double windows (that is, one paned window near the outer surface, and another near the inner surface of the wall in each casement, with a vacant space between them) for defending from the cold in high latitudes; and he wonders that it never should have occurred to any one, that double windows would be equally beneficial in defending from excefs of heat in warm countries : but to render this contrivance as beneficial for the purpose of cooling houses as it obviously might be made, several circumstances ought to be adverted to that have not been hinted at by count Rumford, and which I shall take this opportunity briefly to enu- merate. When double windows are employed for the pre- vention of cold, they should be constructed very dif- ferently from what would be proper where the exclu- sion of heat was aimed at. In the first case (for pre- venting cold) they should be made as close as pofsible every where from without, especially toward the topj for, in that case, the particles of air that were heated by the sun during the day-time would be confined in the area between the two glafses, and would thus produce at that time a positive degree of heat which would prove a strong barrier against the admifsion of cold during the night. The opening that must in all cases be left to supply the irregularities occasioned by the expansion and contraction of the air between the glafses should, in this instance, be made on the inside, as low as pof- sible. The consequence of this arrangement would be, that when the air was expanded by heat, that le always cool in tropical climates. 217 heated air, after filling first the upper part, and then the whole of the area between the two windows, would be dispersed into the apartment; and, when it was contracted by cold, it would be supplied with air from the same apartment, which, being warmer than the external air, would tend to preserve an equality of tem- perature between the glafses. In the second case (for the exclusion of heat) cir- cumstances should be quite the reverse. The area be- tween the glafses should have a free communication from above with the external atmosphere, through which opening every particle of air that was heated might be permitted instantly to fly off, to supply which vacancy an opening should be, madeyrom lelow, communicating with the external air, and the case- ment towards the apartment should be made every where as close as pofsible. But the relief that can be given in hot climates by means of the windows alone is so trifling, that I shall hope to be excused for showing in what way that be- nefit may be greatly extended when combined with other contrivances. Count Rumford has proved incontestably, that no wall can be reared of solid materials which could be afforded at a moderate expense, that could act so pow- erfully as a preservative against the admifsion of either heat or cold, as a perpendicular stratum of air alone. On this principle, then, instead of building a thick wall of brick or stone for the exclusion of heat in warm climates, it would be much more efficacious, as well as lefs expensive, to construct a double wall all round the house of slight materials, leaving an opening of 2 1 8 Cool air may le collected two or three feet wide between them every where, as a reservoir for air. A smaller distance will answer the purpose perfectly well, where circumstances render it necefsary; but, as the width proposed will give free accefs to clean out the vacuity, and to make occasional repairs that may be wanted, it ought to be preferred where particular circumstances do not prevent it. The walls may be made of lath and plaster done on both sides (any kind of wood shrinks, and leaves unavoid- able crevices) j and in order to render the inner wall especially impervious to air, it should be done with very fine plaster of the nature of chunam, very care- fully worked. [Were it not for the danger of insects eating it, paper pasted on the walls would be a cheap and efficacious mode of making them air-tight.] The external wall, especially on the south side, should also be made as close as pofsible every where. There should be a communication with the external air at top, to allow the air that is heated on the inside of the outer wall to make its escape; an opening below made on the north side of the house where the sun never acts, will admit a supply of tresh air to make |up for the waste. It would be a still farther improvement if a well were sunk in some convenient place that was shaded from the sun, for the reception of cool air during the night, from which a supply of cool air could be drawn during the day-time, and this should be carried to as great a depth as circumstances would admit. Those who have not turned their thoughts toward this subject wiil be apt to smile at the idea of forming a reservoir for the purpose of collecting air as you would do wa- and retained in wells. 2 1 9 ter ; yet it is in fact a thing as easily practicable to collect cool air every night in a hot climate, as it is to collect water while rain is falling, and to preserve it too, to be drawn off as your occasions may call for it. The fact is, that air, while in a state of refrigeration, during the absence of the sun, is subjected to the same laws precisely as water while in the same state; it gravitates towards the earth, and never ceases to sink downwards until it reaches the lowest place it can find. In temperate climates, like that of Britain, this re- frigeration, during a summer evening, is so little as to make the air descend almost imperceptibly, as water does while in the state of dew, which prefses only lightly on the objects it meets with, and never accumulates in rapid streams; but, in hotter climates, during the long absence of the sun in the night-time, the cold air may be said to descend in showers, and it accu- mulates upon the earth's surface in such quantities, as to run in copious streams into every hollow place it can find. These hollows, it is true, are never en- tirely empty of air, as a well may be of water; but, if they are once filled with cold air, that cold air can never be drawn off from thence but by one of three means, viz. either the sun, or some other heated body acting upon it, and thus forcing it to expand and rise upwards; or, by being allowed to run off through a channel lower than the bottom of the reservoir, as might be done with water; or, by its being pumped out after the same manner as water out of a well. This being premised, it is very obvious, that if a well be sunk deep in the ground in a low situ- ation, the streams of cool air may be made to 220 Cool air may be collected flow towards it, by forming proper channels to inter- cept them like water, as they flow along the earth's surface; and that cool and weighty air will no sooner reach the mouth of the well, than it will sink directly to the bottom of it, as a stream of water would do, forcing as much of the lighter air out of the reservoir as shall make room for it. In this manner a stream of cold air must continue to pour in during the whole time that the refrigeration continues; and when that refrigeration ceases, the current of air must cease also, and things must necefsarily remain as they are (if it be deep enough to elude the power of the sun, and if none be suffered to run off or be pumped out of it) until a fresh shower of cold air, producing a stream of external air that is colder than the warmest part of the air in the reservoir be again poured into it. Under these cir- cumstances the reservoir must continue to make suc- cefsive acquisitions of cool air, until it be entirely filled with air cooled to the utmost degree that ever takes place in the coolest time of the evening in that climate: for the coldest air will always take its place at the bot- tom, where it must necefsarily remain until it be dis- placed by air that is yet cooler than itself. These things being premised, it will be easy to un- derstand that, if a reservoir were sunk to such a depth as that the heat of the sun could never penetrate to it, and if a communication were made from the lower part of that reservoir to any apartment you choose to have cooled by it, if some of the cool air from below were pumped into that apartment, and if the sides of that apartment (especially below) were made air-tight, it might be filled with cool air whenever and retained in tuells. 221 it was wanted, and this air would remain cool until it were heated by the bodies placed in it; for no ex- ternal objects could, under these circumstances, have any sensible influence upon it. T,he entry to such an apartment should always be made from above; for, were it on a level with the floor, the cool air would necefsarily flow out at the door whenever it was open- ed. Thus should the lower part of the room be made perfectly air-tight; the windows also should be made above, and double glazed; the outer window being, of course, larger than the inner one that corre- sponds with it; and the inner part of the outer wall near the window to be painted white. It is scarcely necefsary for me to add, that the re- servoir of air may be employed as a cellar. Indeed, if care be taken to have it made in a large hollow be- tween higher grounds, the sides of which are smoothed, and gutters so conducted over a large extent of sur- face as to lead from all directions towards the mouth of the reservoir, such a cellar might be kept in a more equal and a cooler temperature than in any other si- tuation in those regions; but care must be taken to have the mouth of it so placed as that water could find its way from it during rain without being forced into it. Such a dam might easily be made as would intercept all the currents of air, and let none pafs, which would at the same time totally exclude accefs to water ; for were a valve, or a door that would shut so close as to exclude accefs to water, to be placed on one end of a lever, and a bucket upon the other end of it, and that bucket placed in a hole made for that purpose, to ad- mit of it to descend with the mouth of it somewhat 222 Cool air may le collected lower than the bottom of the channel, for conducting the current into the mouth of the well; under these circumstances, while a current of air only flowed in that channel, the weight of that air would be so little as not sensibly to affect the bucket, so that it would then remain in its place, and the valve would) of course, remain open so long as air only flowed into the reservoir; but no sooner would rain fall, and wa- ter be made to flow in the gutter, than that water would fall into the bucket, which thus becoming weighty would descend, and by closing the valve would shut out accefs to the water and turn it into another channel, through which it might find its way off. By this simple contrivance, where the situation 19 such as to allow a reservoir of a proper size, with a cavity sufficiently large for collecting nocturnal air, there can be no doubt but an apartment might be easily so constructed in the hottest part of India, as to pofsefs at all times a temperature that never could prove, in the smallest degree, inconvenient to any European constitution : and, as the difference between the weight of the coldest air is very little beyond that of the air above it, a few strokes of a pump that could be worked with great ease would raise abundance of this cool air to supply the demand at any time when it might be wanted. A valve opening upwards upon the pipe that leads from the lower part of the cellar, like the valve of a bellows, would prevent the cool air from again descending through that channel to occupy once more the lowest place. As it is extremely necefsary upon this plan of con- and retained in wells. 223 structing houses to have the lower part of the sitting apartments, to the height of six or eight feet at least, perfectly air-tight, the whole suite of sitting apart- ments ought to be made upon one level, in which case a free communication might be made between the whole without any inconvenience, as the cool air would rise to the same level in them all. In this case also, the stair might descend from the entry into the lobby, where also should be placed the pump, by means of which a stream of cool air could at any time be thrown into the higher part of the sitting apart- ment, which would slowly descend to the bottom of the room in an imperceptible shower of the most refreshing coolnefs. Where the situation is so dry as to admit of it, the first floor might be sunk six or eight feet under ground ; but this ought not to be at- tempted unlefs where wet could be wholly excluded from it. These sitting apartments might also be filled every night to a certain height with cool air, merely by con- ducting gutters round the eaves of the roof to collect the air that fell upon it from above during the night- time, exactly similar to those gutters that are formed for collecting the rain water that falls upon the roofs of our houses; for, during the whole night, a very copious shower of cool air, though imperceptible, falls upon the roof of every house in tropical regions, which cold air, when it accumulates to a certain degree, must, by its own natural gravity., slide along the roof to the lowest place, from whence it will be precipitated in a continued stream during the whole time that the refrigeration continues. This stream of cool air, 224 Cool air may le collected therefore, if directed by means of the pipes which receive it into the higher region of the sitting apart- ment, would descend through it to the bottom, and thus would continue to cool it during the whole night. Mankind, till of late, have been so little accustomed to pay attention to the motions of invisible fluids, that I am very sensible that many persons will deem it chimerical to talk of showers of air, and of receiving it and conducting the streams of it at pleasure, as we would do water wherever it is wanted; but realities must not be overlooked by all, because some persons are not able or willing to advert to them. In fact, the refreshing effect of this nocturnal power of cool air has been perceived in tropical regions, and has been made use of by the natives of such countries since the earliest accounts of those regions that have been transmitted to us. It is to this circumstance that the practice of their sleeping upon the house-tops entirely owes its origin ; and if the lower part of the balconies be left open, so as to allow the cool air to run off in a thin stream, and never to immerse the bed too deep in a pool of that cool air, such a situation may be refresh- ing enough; but, should the balconies be made air- tight to such a height as to form there a deep pool, there cannot be a doubt but the cold thus produced, especially when accompanied with dampnefs that is unavoidable, would prove highly pernicious to the human constitution; and it is no doubt owing to this circumstance, that drunken men, when they lay them- selves down to sleep in the open air in hot climates, so often lose their lives; for a hollow situation will, and retained in wells. 225 in this case, be naturally preferred to an eminence, and it must of course be much more dangerous. But for Europeans, the best situation for sleeping apartments in warm climates is not upon, but imme- diately under the roof, which should be made of the thinnest materials that can be obtained [sheets of cop- per or milled iron would be best], and as flat as is just sufficient to throw off the water, and the metal being an excellent conductor of cold, would soon be cooled by the air descending upon it after sun-set. It would immediately refrigerate, in their turn, the particles of warm air which touched it below; these becoming weighty, would descend; and thus would be produced a shower of gently refrigerated air, free from wet during the whole night, which will keep the heat of the apartment moderate, without pro- ducing at any time a hurtful degree of cold or damp- nefs. From the moment, however, that the sun arose, this refreshing coolnefs would stop, and the heat would soon become intolerable, so that such apart- ments would neither be suited to the infirm who can- not get up during the day, nor to those who convert day into night: for the first, convenient apartments may be easily contrived below, by introducing cool air into them from the pipes ; as to the other descrip- tion of persons, they are not worth our regard. I think it quite unnecefsary to take notice in this place of many other methods that may be adopted for producing a temporary coolnefs in hot regions, as they would not be wanted unlefs for particular purposes. The directions above given will apply to the con- structing of houses for coolnefs in tropical regions, VOL. I. p 226 For constructing cool houses where the cold of each night is so great, as to produce a never-failing source of cool air at short intervals throughout the whole of the season; but, for conti- nental countries, in polar regions, where the heat during the summer season is extremely distrefsing, and the night is so short as to afford no time for refrigera- tion, this mode of procedure would by no means answer the purpose. If, however, a well were sunk to a pro- per depth, opening into a vault sufficiently capacious, and the mouth of that well left open during the winter season, it would then be filled with air cooled to an intense degree. This supply of cool air could be pre- served throughout the whole summer season, without any other precaution than that of not allowing any opening to lead from it lelcnv, through which the cool air could be suffered to run off (for, though open above, it never could rise upwards unlefs it were heat- ed by some extraneous influence). As this air would be intensely cold, a few strokes of the pump would draw up a sufficient quantity to refrigerate a large suite of apartments for a whole day; but in this case, care should be taken that it were thrown into the apart- ment as near the ceiling as pofsible, and squirted into it with force through many small openings, like the nose of a watering pot. By this means the cold air would be divided into many minute particles, and so intimately blended with the warm air of the room as to descend very slowly, and in that descent to be partly heated, so as to give only a refreshing coolnefs, without producing that intense cold which it would infallibly do in the lower part of the apartment were it thrown-in in large mafses together, and in great for summer in polar regions. 227 quantities. A little experience would soon render this kind of adjustment very easy. Means also might be easily adopted for agitating this cold air below, and mixing it occasionally with the warmer air above. It will readily occur, that a similar contrivance might be adopted in many warm countries for ob- taining ice in summer at a small expense. Travellers report, that at Shiraz, in Persia, many thousand per- sons are daily employed during the whole summer season in driving innumerable beasts of burden, car- rying ice from the mountains to the city, which is there reckoned an indispensable necefsary of life. The cold in that city is, however, so intense during the winter, that the ground is covered with snow for many weeks together. Were a subterranean repository to be there formed of an extent sufficiently capacious, and were it filled with sriow at that season, it would be at the same time necefsarily filled with air cooled many degrees below the freezing point. This air, if not let off, would preserve the ice during the summer sea- son from thawing, so that the whole expense would be that of filling it in winter, and in summer lading it into buckets, and lifting it to the surface by means of a pulley. But in this case care ought to be taken not to fall into the blunder that all the constructors of ice- houses in this country commit, viz. that of leaving an outlet for the water that may chance to drop from the melting ice to flow off; for, through this outlet, the cool air that was shut up with the ice will instantly flow off, so that the air in this place must then become of the same temperature with that of the atmosphere at the mouth of that opening, when the sun is not acting P 2 228 For constructing ice-houses, &c. upon it. The leaving this opening to let off the dif* solved ice, and making doors into an ice house on the side, frustrates completely all the other precautions that can be adopted for preserving ice. In all cases no other entry to an ice house should he permitted but from above only; the walls and the roof should be made double, with a high opening in the middle like a chimney, through which the heated air should be permitted to make its escape, and the entry should be by a door made on the north side of that chimney. In that case scarcely any of the ice would be ever melted: a well, however, should be formed below the ice-house to receive any water that might chance to drip from it; and this water should be drawn off from time to time, as occasion may require, by means of a pump, In warm countries this cold water would always sell for a price more than sufficient to pay for all the ex- pense of drawing it off*. By adverting to these hints the comfort of the in- habitants of every part of this globe may be consi- derably augmented, without either trouble or expense; for it will be found, that the same precautions which insure against excefs of heat at one season, will prove, with little variation, equally effectual to guard against excefs of cold at another season, as will be more fully explained in some succeeding number of this work. On the Staggers. 229 facts concerning an undetermined poisonous plant, and certain disorders to ivhich animals are said to lie subject^ under the indiscriminate appellation of Staggers, communicated ly a gentleman who has lived twenty-Jive years in North America. HAVING read in Mr. Vancouver's general view of the agriculture of the county of Cambridge, printed in 1794, p. 94, an account of a singular disease to which the deer in Wimple Park have been subject, it may not be unimportant to communicate to your readers a few facts which may be new to them, as they occurred to my observation during twenty-five years residence and travels in various parts of North America. There exists in that country one or more (most pro- bably in the plural number of) diseases of similar symptoms, which the people vulgarly, and perhaps somewhat indiscriminately, term the staggers. To this confusion of malady (hitherto imperfectly defined among the common herdsmen) horses and neat cattle are said to become equally a prey. The facts which I have noticed would lead us to hope that a day is not very far distant when a better definition, by some judicious observer, will lead to a more minute discrimination, which is certainly a lead- ing step to the knowledge of proper remedies. The most predominant or unlimited of these com- plaints seems to be that which attacks the horse about autumn; the others appear to be local. The first is allowed, nearly on all hands, to proceed from the cobwebs which bespread the ground every 230 , On the Staggers. where at that season of the year; but, whether the infectious particles are taken in through the nose, or mouth, or both, seems to be yet unsettled. The late judge Stokes of North Carolina (with whom I had several years the pleasure of travelling while he practised at the bar) mentioned to me, that at a time when the American cavalry were seriously attacked with this disorder, some conjectures concern- ing the cobweb had occasioned a Serjeant's guard of the most intelligent soldiers to be selected for the pur- pose of watching the horses while grazing; and these men were to make reports at the succefsive hours of relief, touching the points given them in charge, and the symptoms which they remarked. The uniformity of accounts concerning the snuffing of the animal, rubbing of the nose, restlestnefs, &c. during the dew of the morning, led to distinctions between the dewy state of the cobweb, and the dry adust condition which it afsumed when the sun had sufficiently operated by the powers of exhalation. An experiment was then tried upon chickens, by giving to one a pill of the dewy cobweb, and to an- other a pill of the dry cobweb, alternately made up in paste. The unfortunate fowl (said the judge) which ate of the morning dew, partook speedily of the symptoms, followed by agony and death; while the other escaped unhurt. I give the above statement upon the judge's (not upon my own) authority. Certain it is, that his horses were second to no man's; and he has often afsured me, that he preserved them in safety by using the On the Staggers. 231 simple precaution of housing them till the dew was evaporated during that season of the year in which cobwebs prevailed; and that they had always escaped by this means, although the destruction in his neigh- bourhood was very dreadful. Having frequent conversations in our journeys on this and similar subjects, we were informed that Wil- liam Rand, Esq. late clerk of the court of pleas and quarter sefsions for the county of Cumberland, in North Carolina, had much experience in the veteri- nary art; and, as we were both of us personally ac- quainted with Mr. Rand, we not only took occasion to mention the subject, but to stay all night at his house for our better information. Mr. Rand afsured us, that, when he was a young man, it had been a favourite amusement of his to pay great attention to horses; and that he had often pur- chased (on this account, and with speculative views) large droves or gangs of wild horses, called in the piny woods and wildernefses of the south Hereticks or Tackies; being a small cheap breed of ponies similar to those of Wales, averaging (at that day) from two to three guineas each, or thereabouts. That amongst other experiments for acquiring knowledge of the diseases to which animals are sub- ject, he had been peculiarly attentive to the case we had mentioned; and that the discoveries which had been made in the American army, as the judge had related, were right, so far as they went; but imper- fect in respect to the mode of imbibing the poisonous quality which the spider leaves upon its web, and the seat where it became deposited when so imbibed. He 232 On the Staggers. afsured us, that the malignant particles were received through the nostril ; that they ascended in the act of breathing, till they were collected below the curl in the forehead, or near that place: that they then be- came stationary; resembled linseed oil; and that the poison contained in this matter of oleaginous appear- ance affected the brain, and brought on a delirium, attended with the usual symptoms termed the staggers. That every outlying horse whatsoever was affected more or lefs with this complaint at the then season of the year, autumn; but, as the remedy was a simple operation, if we would wait until stamping time [stamping time is the hour when horses at pasture are accustomed to run home, or convene under a tree or some other shady place, where they stamp and beat off the flies during the heat of the day], he would per- form it upon one of his own horses. He did this much to our satisfaction in the following manner. An unbroke colt of about three years old was caught, haltered, and confined; he then carefully made an incision in the forehead with a lancet, slit- ting up at first the outermost skin just below the curl in the seam of hair which pafses from the nose up- wards between the eyes, about an inch and a half in length. The proportion of blood which followed the lancet was so small, as to be no interruption to the procefs. He then shewed us two thin folds of flesh which meet from each side on the line of the curl, and seem only to adhere together by a very thin filmy substance; and, having cautiously separated these, he pointed out to us beneath them an inner skin, or film, On the Staggers. 233 which he said contained the poison in that part where we discerned the bluest appearance, which we under- stood to have been collected there through the olfac- tory ducts, and which he caused to trickle off the hair down the horse's nose by a second gentle inci- sion, resembling a few drops of linseed oil in its paf- sage, as he had previously told us. The halter was taken off without further ceremony, and the animal went to grazing, as usual, without any apparent inconvenience. The local cases which I have observed under the vulgar denomination of staggers, proceed doubtlefsly from the animals having eaten of a poisonous plant, producing similar symptoms and delirium as the case here before recited. Two kinds of these have been ascertained, yet (strange as it may seem) the utmost vigilance within my knowledge has been unable to particularize one of these, whose injurious existence is in proof too clearly to be doubted. These two kinds are supposed to be no ways related, . except in point of mischief; for I have never under- stood them to be inhabitants of the same region. The most baneful one, which is an incognitiim, is (happily for mankind) a native of low overflowing grounds, and limited in its propagation to a very few places. The other species appears only in the rich coves of the American mountains; and, though equally appre- hended by the proprietors of cattle, has never within my recollection been equal in its fatal consequences. The most pernicious effects which appear to have 234 On the Staggers. been felt from this lowland species of plant are re- counted upon Carravvay Creek, a branch of the river Uharrie in the county of Randolph, in North Caro- lina. I was told at that place, and in its neighbour- hood (which I continued to visit for some time four times a year) that the hog is the only tame animal which escapes it; and I was once there in what they termed a bad year, when even man had become the victim of its baneful influence. A family, who had been sufferers, informed me, that the butter and milk of that season had been so strongly impregnated with the poisonous juice, that after the lofs of children and neighbours, whom they enume- rated, they found it necefsary to desist from this cus- tomary diet; that they had lost nearly all their cattle; that strangers encamping accidentally upon that creek had suffered by it; and that nothing but the hogs had escaped, not even their dogs, which had been killed by partaking of the butter, milk, and carrion. [Swine are great enemies to every species of snake, which they devour with as little ceremony as they eat apples. Deer in America eat the species of mountain laurel of the woods, which is said to poison most other ani- mals. Goats eat the bur and seed of the James Town weed of Virginia (daturum stramonium} without any evil consequence, although this has an effect on the human race similar to the staggers; and mix vomica is said to be poison only to such animals as are born blind.] That great pains had been taken to watch the cattle when grazing, but without effect; that they found safety only in abandoning the low grounds; and that their afsurance of its being solely a low ground On the Staggers. 235 plant which was so injurious to them, was proved by the consideration of their safety in all wet summers, " when the muddy waters overflowed, and dirtied the " grafs in such a manner as to compel the cattle to " seek a cleaner food in the high lands." The persons whom we saw had a horrid ghastly ap- pearance, not unlike those who have pafsed through a yellow fever. The other plant of the mountains, vulgarly termed staggerweed (a name common to it throughout the mountainous parts of the southern states), is so uni- versally distributed, and so generally known in that quarter, that ardent spirits have ironically obtained the epithet of staggerweed, from a similitude in their intoxicating qualities. This plant is but a few inches high; has a leaf something like the lupine, and I think a flower re- sembling that of a species of sorrel in England, which the children call cuckoo bread; but, as it is several years since I saw it, I dare not trust my recollec- tion for a drawing or minute description; although, I think, I should find no difficulty in distinguishing it from any other plant where I may hereafter meet with it. It is amongst the earliest vegetations in spring ; and, on that account, more dangerous to cat- tle. I do not pretend to remember the customary reme- dies. I have seen cattle nicked under the tail for it as a temporary mode of bleeding them ; and, I think, in some conditions (though perhaps not in a stage of pregnancy) a decoction of flax seed has been given. I have been told, however, by some of the most intel- ligent mountaineers, that they never fear the stagger- 236 On the Staggers. weed in the spring, if they have but a full crib of corn,* to give their cattle a breakfast before they are turned out in a morning. It may not be amifs to suggest, that I think I have seen this pernicious plant upon the shelves of some of the florists in London. Perhaps such a transplanta- tion may merit inquiry, lest an evil should arise from its future propagation in England. Since writing the foregoing papers, two other cases have been related to me, which are probably each of them distinct and separate maladies; although they produce a similarity of symptoms perhaps which has the resemblance of affinity. The first is the case of a horse belonging to a mer- chant in London, which had been constantly kept in the stable. The second happened to a carriage horse of Mr. Pinkney's (one of the American commifsioners, residing in Guildford Street) upon a tour through Wales ; where a Welch farrier trepanned the horse, took a quantity of water out of his head, replaced the piece of skull with a leathern substitute, and enabled him to proceed on the journey. I had hopes of giving a fuller account of these two cases ; but I am unable at present to procure the facts in greater detail. The Editor wishes for farther elucidations on this subject. The disorder above mentioned, affecting horses, seems to be very little known in this country; and the disorder called staggers, as affecting sheep, which is the only disorder of this sort frequent in Bri- * Corny in America, is a term applied solely to maize; oats and other grains are spoken of specifically. Travelling Memorandums, 237 tain, seems to be equally unknown to the writer of the above. Its effects are much the same as that above described respecting the horse, but the cause of it is as yet but very imperfectly known. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. Travelling Memorandums. AT a village not a hundred miles from Shrews- bury, I overheard the following conversation. " I would give my heart," said a well looking young man to a beautiful girl who sat beside him " I would give my heart, Susan, for one kindly kifs of those be- witching lips of thine, were it not that I have no heart to give; it has been gone from me a long while/' * And pray,' said Susan, with an arch exprefsive look, ( where hath that roving heart of thine so long concealed itself?' " You little enchanting rogue," said he, with an emphatic look which met her consent- ing eye, " and you pretend not to know where it has been !" Then, clasping her in his arms, he imprint- ed upon her lips a warm ecstatic kifs exprefsive of the softest rapture. After she had a little recovered her- self, with a sweeter blush suffusing her cheek than ever Aurora yet displayed, ' Well Robin,' said she, f I also would give my heart to have back that kifs again, were it in my power to give : but, alas ! it is gone, and I fear will never more be within my power.' " And when did this little wanderer take flight?" said he; " and where hath it taken up its abode since it left thee?" ' It made its escape,' said she, ( the moment that I knew I had got pofsefsion of yours; for 238 To Correspondents. no sooner did I feel it warm within my breast, than it filled it so entirely that I could find no place for any thing else j so off it flew directly, and here it took re- fuge (putting her hand upon his breast) : feel how the little flutterer frisks about in its new abode. It is a kind little heart, Robin,' said she (concealing her face upon his bosom) f and will prove ever true to you.' " Blefsings upon thee, my lovely Susan," said he (prefsing her tenderly in his arms, and gently leaning his cheek upon hers, the rapturous tears flow- ing copiously adown), for now you have made me the happiest of mankind." Blefsings upon you both, said I, retiring ; and blefsings upon thee, Mr. Editor, and blefsings on all mankind. My heart is full; for is there any pleasure we can feel equal to that of parti- cipating in the blifs which is the reward of innocence and virtue? TIMOTHY HAIRBRAIN. To Correspondents. A wag sends me the following lines, viz. Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November; All the rest hath thirty-one, Excepting February alone : which he hopes will quite accord with my idea of per- fect rhymes. I readily insert them, because they may prove useful in afsisting our younger readers to recol- lect a circumstance which they may sometimes wish to know, when they are in a situation that does not admit of their being informed by others. One of the primitive uses of verse was, without all To Correspondents. 239 doubt, to afsist the memory. Hence it happened, that the historical records of all nations, before the in- vention of letters, and until the art of writing became general among the people, were in verse; and in those performances nothing more was attempted than what is met with in the above lines. They were calculated merely to throw facts into such an arrangement, that if a word or a syllable were altered, that circumstance became perceptible. By degrees the bards began to ex- ercise the powers of their imagination to embellish the subject, and render them more interesting; and this gradually gave rise to popular ballads, which may be called the first step in the progrefs of poetry properly so called. I consider good memorial lines as much better than indifferent poetry; so that the wag, if he meant to divert himself in this instance at my expense, has lost his aim. The Editor is much obliged to C. H. for his very flattering letter, and the poem it enclosed. He very much regrets that the plan of his work, to which he must most conscientiously adhere, does not permit him to avail himself of his favour on the present occa- sion. Utility rather than ornament is his great aim, and performances adapted to effect the latter must be sparingly admitted, unlefs where they tend to forward the former. Had not this poem been too long, he would have endeavoured, on account of the modesty of the writer, to make room for it. It will better suit some of those periodical publications where poetry is always inserted; it will be left with the Editor till called for. The poem by a gentleman who gives his real name, but which is here supprefsed, is liable to the same ob- jections with the former, particularly as to length. It 540 To Correspondents. Xvas ill judged in him to choose a subject so exactly the same with that of a well known and much esteemed poem. Comparisons that thus force themselves upon the reader are always much against the succeeding writer. The communication from RusttOU is received; and it is with concern the Editor finds himself restrained from availing himself of this communication also, on account of the personalities with which it abounds. He thought he had in his prospectus so effectually guarded against this evil, that no one would have at- tempted to introduce it; he is sorry it should have been tried on the present occasion. He begs leave to afsure this writer, that neither the compliments with which his letter is introduced, nor the threat with which it is concluded, can tend, in the smallest de- gree, to make him depart from that line of conduct of which his sober judgment approves. A Saunterer, and several others, are necefsarily post- poned. N. B. As this work consists almost entirely of ori- ginal performances, the Editor legs leave to Intimate to those whom It may concern, that, for the sake of his correspondents, as well as his own, he has been induced to enter it at Stationers' Hall. By this means the copy-right of all such essays as are voluntarily communicated to him will le effectually secured to the respective writers thereof', for he hereby assures them, that, unless It le for the present work alone, he shall consider himself to le as much precluded from making use of such essays as any other person what- ever. RECREATIONS IN ARTS AND LITERATURE. 1st SEPTEMBER 1799. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. MR. EDITOR, I AM one of those inoffensive beings whom the world distinguishes by the name of a saunterer. By the industry of my parents I am in pof- sefsion of as much money as enables me to live inde- pendent of any employment, and to move in a sphere that satisfies my wishes, though it is greatly below that to which most of my acquaintance eagerly aspire. I have few wants, and few wishes. I neither love nor hate any person, so far as ever to disturb the serenity of my mind; I bear, in short, a general good will to all, and believe I obtain the same sort of general good will in re- turn, and no more. As I seldom put myself to much trouble to serve any person, I do not expect that they should exert themselves much to serve me; so that I am seldom disappointed, and therefore am in no danger VOL. I. q 242 A Saunterer. of falling out .with any one. I am well pleased to do my acquaintance any friendly office that falls easily in my way; and, as no one expects more from me, I am seldom importuned in a troublesome degree. I take regular and easy exercise, without ever pushing it the length of fatigue, and have, in general, pofsefs- ed what I have often heard others earnestly wish for, " Health of body, peace of mind, a clean shirt, and a guinea." Yet, in spite of all these sources of enjoy- ment, I have not been able to keep myself entirely free from disquietudes. My time very often hangs- rather heavy upon my hands, and I often think the hour for meals approaches very slowly. I sometimes suspect that my watch has stopped; but when I find it is still going, I have only to take another turn or two, and I find it slips insensibly away. Reading does not afford me so much amusement as it does to many others, but I generally take in some of the monthly publications, which I glance over in a rainy day, or where no amusement that is more interesting occurs; and, as I have little predilection for one more than another, I generally take in the newest, which, for the most part, keeps its place till it is driven out by another. In this way your Recreations hold the place for the present; but how long they will conti- nue to do so, I will not pretend to say. I like them at present well enough, and I begin to view several things more nearly than I had formerly done. If this propensity should increase, it will be a great acqui- sition .to me, as it will make time pafs more lightly than it used to do. I find that many of the particulars you have men- A Saunterer. 243 tioned were just as \vell known to myself as to you. I had observed the anxiety of the hen with her duck- lings : I had noticed the care that the mother took of her chickens, though I had not adverted to the indif- ference with which she abandons them: I had observed the fondnefs of the dog for the fire, and well knew his playful docility; but I had not remarked the precise point to which that docility reached, and beyond which it could not be extended: in short, I made few or no reflections on the extent or boundaries of the natural instincts of animals, or any other circumstance that occurred, farther than as it pleased or incommoded me for the time. I am now trying to profit by your instructions; and, as you recommend writing as a good thing for fixing the attention, I have resolved to make a trial of its power, by sending you this my first efsay, to which I hope you will prove indulgent; as a subject just now occurs to me that has given me fre- quent annoyance, and which I think it is not impofsible, by your afsistance, to get in some measure rectified. Beside the wearisomenefs I have felt from the fe- diousnefs of time hanging heavy on my hands, one other circumstance used sometimes to occasion a kind of uneasinefs to me that I wished to get rid of. This was a natural propensity that I have felt from my youth upwards for musical sounds, and of which I cannot divest myself let me do what I will. This natural in- stinct, if you choose to give it that name, is in me very powerful, and it has tended to des-troy the com- posure of my frame more than any other. I know nothing about the rules of music, and can say little more upon the subject, unlcfs it be that on some oc- 244 A Saunterer. casions I have felt myself so strongly moved by certain sounds, as to lose for a time all other kind of percep- tion; my very fle^h seemed to creep, and my frame has been, as it were, wound up, till I thought I should have been lifted from my seat, as if something above were drawing me upwards. You may smile at these awkward exprefsions; nor shall I wonder if they are not very intelligible, but I can give you no clearer idea of my sensations. I am sometimes highly de- lighted with music; but I cannot tell how it happens that I am very often not in the least affected by such, as better judges than I am call exquisitely fine. In- deed, I am so much oftener disgusted than pleased with music, that I have for many years past kept out of the way of hearing it rather than otherwise. The music of a few catches pleased me so much, that I once became a member of a catch club; but, as I had no powers of voice to take a part in it myself, I soon became disgusted with the noise and turbulence of some of its members; nor could I ever be reconciled to the absurdity, as I thought it, of hearing three or four persons all repeating different words at the same time, which produced a confused gibberish that shocked me so much as to make me soon withdraw from that club, notwithstanding the relish I had for some of their tunes. I now come to the subject of my efsay, and hope my inexperience in the art of writing will be admit- ted by you as an apology for this long introduction to it. A Saunterer. 245 It happens that I live in a street which is guarded by a set of the most abominable watchmen that ever, I think, infested any part of the world, and who, by their horrid bawlings, give me every night the most distrefsing annoyance. If I am highly delighted with those musical notes that accord with my feelings, I am, if pofsible, still more disturbed by jarring and discordant sounds. Were I not attending to the mu- sic at all, if a single note should be touched consi- derably out of tune, I feel a sensation as if I had re- ceived a sudden and painful shock, so that I can scarcely refrain from making an involuntary excla- mation. This being premised, you will be able to form some idea of what I feel, when every evening I hear a fellow bawl out as loud as he is able, in a voice that more nearly resembles the screeching of a peacock than any thing else to which I can liken it, " Past ten o'clo-o-o-o-ck." The words are scarcely out of his mouth, before another on the opposite side brays out with the voice of an afs, " Past ten o'clo-o-o-ck." Then a third, gobbling like a turkey-cock, blutters out, (f Past ten o'clok." These persons all yelling at once, make a trio of such discordant sounds as would have confounded Babel itself; when, to com- plete the infernal concert, another comes, " Quak, quak, quak." It is almost enough to drive a person to distraction who has to run the gauntlet through such a terrible band. These sounds are not only intolerable to every one who has a musical ear, as I, from my sad ex- perience, can attest, but they are at the same time distrefsing to those sober people who, having never 246 A Saunterer. felt the charms of music, cannot be offended at the jarrings of difsonance. Such persons in vain at-, tempt to learn what hour of the night it is when they chance to be awaked by these horrible bawlers. They listen; but whether it be twelve or two, or one or three, they cannot pofsibly divine; for that word is hurried over with such indistinctnefs and rapidity, that it is impofsible for one at the crier's elbow to know it; and all this is in order that he may have time to dwell on his beloved clo-o-o-o-o-ck, which is the only word that can be distinguished, whatever be the hour; and this is repeated from so many quarters at short intervals, that the whole street seems to be converted into one moving echo, which appears not likely ever to have an end. To make an end of this horrible difsonance at once, instead of leaving every watchman to find out a tune for himself, I propose that they should all be taught to sing the words to one tune, which might be formed by way of catch; and such a tune is already com- posed for the catch White sand, and Grey sand; Who'll luy my white sand, Who'll buy my grey sand; the notes of which I have got a friend to set, to be in- serted along with this, for the satisfaction of such of your readers as are unacquainted with it, if you shall i. Just past the hour ten, Just past the hour ten, Just past the hour ten. i. . ..... -. just past che hour ten, Just past the hour ten. j. ...-..----- ... -- Just past the hour ten. honour it with a place. They will easily perceive that these notes are so simple, and are so naturally adapted A Saunterer. 247 to a musical ear, that any person who is not absolutely mistuned could learn them in a few minutes. Instead of these old words, however, let the follow- ing be adopted in their stead: Just past the hour ten, just past the hour ten, just past the hour ten. The tune will be completed when these five words have been repeated three times; and this, if sung by one person, makes a very melodious air. If, however, three watchmen should be near to each other, and if it were to be performed as a catch, the second begin^ ning the tune after the first had gone over the first part of the tune, and the third voice to begin after the second voice had completed the first part of the tune, and thus to go on progrefsively, you would have not only the pleasing melody, but the effect would at the same time be felt of the full harmonic chord, which,, when compared with the difsonance at present, would be a most enchanting improvement: and, as the words of each part of the tune are, in this case, entirely the same, when these came to be sung at the same time, there would be no jarring of the sense more than of the sound, which is the only thing wanted, in my opinion, to make the composition of a ca^ch perfect in its kind. I shall only add, that, as all the nam,es of our. twelve hours are monosyllables except the word eleven, the same words, only varying the hour, answer for them all but that one; the word hour might, in this case, be omitted, and it would run thus, Just past eleven, as. smoothly as the others. For the half hours, it would run quite smooth to say, Half' past the hour ten, half past eleven, half past the hour twelve, and so on. 248 Ore Flues. Were this plan to be adopted in any one street, there can be no doubt but the inhabitants would give o the watchmen voluntarily such a gratuity as would sufficiently indemnify them for their trouble in learn- ing it. There are some watchmen already who have excellent voices, were they subjected to a proper mo- dulation; and, as the inhabitants would readily re- ward the best performers, I have no doubt but, were this plan adopted, many others, who pofsefsed the same qualification, would soon put themselves forward in this line; so that the obloquy that Britain lies under in the eyes of foreigners for its total want of taste for musical tones, would, in some measure, be done away. If you shall favour this with a place, you will ob- lige, and may pofsibly hear again from, your well- wisher, A SAUNTERER. To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. Queries, Suggestions, and Observations. Quere I. Is not the cause of the pulmonary con- sumption to be chiefly looked for in the modes of creating artificial heat for domestic purposes, and in inattention to proper clothing? Wherever flues are used, the consumption of the lungs is a disorder un- known. In Iceland, if I remember right, the worthy profefsor Therkelin, a native of that island, informed me that the phthisis pulmonaris did hardly exist, and certainly not as an endemic disorder. On Flues. 249 The havoc created by this murdering disease in Bri- tain surpafses all that every other disorder occasions, even including that of ambition, the accursed mother -of destructive war. Suggestion. That ,the general use of flues in Bri- tain and Ireland should by all pofsible means be in- troduced, and that all proprietors of land and builders should be induced to adopt this mode of heating houses by some small pecuniary advantages held forth by the legislature in the first instances of its adoption ; after which the general demand for such houses would ren- der it unnecefsary. Observation. If in ancient Rome a civic crown was given to such as saved the life of a citizen in war, how much more meritorious would it not be to save the lives of myriads in the useful conditions of peace and industry? Secondly. If the pofsefsion of our British and Irish treasures of pit coal be considered, as undoubtedly it must, as one of the great causes of our manufacturing superiority over many other nations, it certainly behoves us to husband it as much as pofsible. Reckoning, therefore, two millions of houses in Britain and Ire- land, and admitting the introduction of flues univer- sally, as many tons of coal might fairly come into estimation as an annual saving on this important ar- ticle, which does not grow in the bowels of the earthy as the uninformed believe, but is daily exhausting, and becoming more and more expensive to the consumer. In manufacturing villages, many houses in the same street or row might have the flues heated by a common kitchen, where the villagers might carry their pots, 250 On Flues. pies, or pipkins, to be boiled, baked, or sodden, at a trifling annual expense; and almost every one in the least acquainted with such matters must know of how much importance it is to many branches of the weaving businefs, and other manufactures, to have an equal degree of heat; besides, to the well and beneficially employed family, the saving of time is the saving of money. In that wonderfully industrious and economical na- tion, China, the use of flues, or their tang, is universal, and a great source of health and prosperity to the peo- ple. But in the British isles, where moisture is super- added to cold and irregular weather, and where the chronic rheumatism, as an endemic, is superadded to the ravaging consumption of the lungs, I cannot suf- ficiently exprefs my wish to see a beginning to a ge- neral attention to the healthful and judicious use of artificial heat, nor bestow too much commendation upon Franklin, Anderson, and Thompson, who were the first to render it the object of general attention. B. The Editor will with pleasure lend his aid to for- ward the patriotic exertions of this respectable corre- spondent, and of others who shall forward his views. Any useful observations on this important subject will be particularly attended to in this miscellany; and, if nothing of greater importance shall be suggested by others, the Editor himself will, in due time, bring forward some hints on that head that may perhaps prove useful. Experiments in Irrigation* 251 Experiments in irrigation, ly the help of a cotton or woollen syphon. Communicated ly a gentleman from America. SOME years ago, during a dry summer in Virginia, I was led, from observations on the parching effect of the usual mode of watering plants with a watering pot, to consider the principle of its operation upon the earth and plants relatively in a vegetative state. I observed that, when this method was used about sun- set, it had generally (but not always) a good effect in most kinds of soil, and produced a pleasant dew upon the leaves on the following morning; but, if the wa- tering pot was too freely used during the mid-day heat, or even in the morning, it caused the earth to parch, and checked the progrefs of vegetation, until an annihilation of the vital principle was effected. From an extension of this remark upon the larger scale of agriculture which is afforded in the procefs of cultivating maize, or Indian corn, I am persuaded that, after plants in general have attained to a permanent radification, it is best to work the ground frequently, whether the weather be wet or dry; and (except in the case of tobacco, and such other plants as we expect profit from through the curable condition of the leaf) I think a continual working of the ground will be found a better afsurance for the crops than watering. I was satisfied, however, that the best modes of sup- plying a deficiency of rain were not yet discovered. '252 Experiments in Irrigation. The difficulty is, how we may best be enabled to sup- ply the regular demands of vegetative succefsion through a droughty season, with a justly proportioned substitute for the evaporated moisture of the earth, by which it would otherwise have been succoured. Hence (water being the natural element afsigned to this purpose in its simple state) I had recourse to the experiment of a syphon, as described in Fig. 1. of the plates annexed. I selected two water melon vines near each other, in soil of the same appearance; one of them being considerably more flourishing than the other. I made my experiment upon the de- F 'g- cliningvine, by twisting gently a cotton syphon made of can- dlewick, proportioned to the stem of the plant; I then ele- vated a pot of water above the surface of the ground, covering it from the vehement heat of the sun with a piece of plank. Having then wetted my cotton syphon in order to communicate motion to -the fluid upon the foun- tain principle, I tied a small stone to one end, as a weight to sink it when immersed in the water; and, dropping this into the pot, I pafsed the other end down into the earth, by scratching the mould gently away from the root, and giving the syphon a spiral direction round it, covered lightly with the replaced mould. In a short time the earth became moderately moist- ened a few inches round the root of the plant, in which condition it continued through the heat of the day without parching, or scalding; the syphon supplied Experiments in Irrigation. 253 the demand of the plant (and no more), a cool suc- cefsion took place through the effects of evaporation; and in a few days the vine became flourishing, and outgrew its neighbour. I have repeatedly tried this experiment with good effect; and think it at least capable of extension in a garden or nursery, by placing troughs the whole length of a bed, as represented in Fig. 2. EXPLANATION OF THE PLATES. Fig. 1. An earthen jar containing water, placed on a bench for the purpose of elevating the water above the ground containing the plant, so as to obtain a fountain head. A twisted rope, made of wool or cotton, acts as a syphon, con- veying water to the plant in proportion to its demand. Fig. 2 differs only from the above in the substitution of a trough proportioned to the length of the bed, in lieu of the jar used for a single sy- phon. Having by this means persuaded myself that I am right in respect to the philosophical principle, it conies to be considered, whether there are any, and by what means the best plans may be adopted for rendering this experiment more general, and obtaining a greater 254 Experiments in Irrigation. number and variety of results from divers soils and climates; and it seems to be an interesting point of inquiry (beyond a mere horticultural application) whe- ther this auxiliary principle may not be extended, in some shape or other, to an agricultural benefit in the modification of harsh and thirsty lands, On the more extensive scale of husbandry? The scheme which has presented itself to my ima- gination, but which I have never had an opportunity of reducing to practice, is, to obtain, in the first place, a command of water upon the best elevated level which the ground admits of; and, pursuing this level as far as pofsible with what may, perhaps, properly be term- ed a head-land ditch, which should be as nearly stag- nant as the circulation of fluid will permit; I think one end of a straw rope, proportioned to the design, might be immersed in the water after the manner of my experiment, and the other be spun out to the length of the respective lands which they were in- tended to irrigate, being conducted along the ridge, or highest part thereof, by means of a ploughed trench, so that the moisture might spread itself each way by descent into the furrows, and without the risk of form- ing gullies, which frequently happens in red lands, as is too generally proved in America, where the lands are but partly coated with grafs, and where they are subject to sudden heavy showers and washing tor- rents. This method can, in any event, do no mischief; but it is sure to answer one good end in the quality of manure: for, when a straw rope is once intrenched for the purposes of irrigation, it cannot pofsibly be Julia to her Friend. 255- converted to a better use than to let it rot in the earth for a manure. I hope these hints will be deemed worthy of further investigation; and that practical fanners, among the rich and enlightened ranks of society, will be at some pains to ascertain how far mankind may draw profit from them. Julia to her Friend. 2 August, 1709- MY DEAR FRIEND, THE calm I have enjoyed this season has given me leisure to indulge my fond- nefs for poetry. The winter and spring were spent in businefs and study; but now, warmed by the genial glow of nature, I refuse myself none of the innocent enjoyments of fancy. Though the summer has ad- vanced slowly, and has been varied by cold winds and storms, yet she repays us by her transient smiles for what we have suffered : come when she will, she scat- ters luxuriancy around her; and, while our senses are charmed by the gloxving beauties she unfolds, our hearts are weaned from the glare of vanity; we turn with disgust from parade and form, and give ourselves up to the enjoyments of simplicity. By simplicity, I mean those sources of pleasure which excite sensibility without the aids of art or pride, which give birth to sentiments of virtue, while they form our taste, and inspire the mind with ideas and sensations which are truly poetical; for poetry is, or should be, the echo 256 Julia to her Friend. and reflector of nature. Hence the delight which a true poet excites in a heart alive to natural beauties; for the mind which is the deepest imprefsed with its Creator's works, which feels their beauty, and adores their author, will pofsefs the power of delineating its emotions with the greatest purity and force. True sentiment seeks no ornament; ideas, beautiful in them- selves, require no laboured combinations to make them felt, or to render them harmonious. The true poet, therefore, courts simplicity; he knows that art is only the imitation of nature, and that a lively feeling of what is delightful in our universe forms the artist. He turns his eye from the sparkling tinsel of folly, he stores his mind with the sublimest imagery, and gives his imagination ample scope to wander over and com- bine them; he turns his heart from all that is vicious or trivial; and, from this exalted habit of thinking, feels no relish but for what is good or great: his re- flections afsist the humbler admirers of nature to fix- tend their views, and to give a further charm to soli- tude. But, before we can relish the enlightened page of wisdom and genius, we must learn to appreciate what in itself is intrinsic; we, like the poet, must court simplicity, shun all that vitiates the sensibility, and give up our hearts to the innocent pleasures which nature so profusely bestows upon us. Surrounded as I now am by every object which the muse delights in, you will not wonder that my mind should wander to poetry; or that, while enjoying in my rural walks the enthusiasm of fancy, I should for- get to make minuter observations on the objects around me; and I hope you will equally forgive me Juliet to her Friend. 257 for the subject I have neglected, and the one I have chosen; nor can I dismifs it without entering a little further into the investigation of the characteristics of poetry. The fine arts*, having one object in view, are all intimately connected, and some blended together with the same indefinable shades as those observed in the moral and physical worlds : thus, in poetry, though we feel that it has a determinate character, we can scarcely define the exact boundary which separates it from prose. It cannot be numbers, since many works, profefsedly prosaic, pofsefs more poetry than those written in measure. Nor can it spring alone from refinement of sentiment; the polished and cultivated style is often totally divested of poetry, while the writ- ings of barbarous nations are chiefly of this nature. But, since we find that every native expression of our emotions leads us insensibly to the style which the poet labours to attain, I think we may term it the language of the pafsions, the effect of the finest sen- sibility. Strong sensations must vibrate through the heart before the imagination will take fire; it is then the mind acquires that rapidity which makes it seize a variety of glowing images, gives it that energy which commands attention, and powers of language which awaken transport, or affect the mind with the ten- derest pity, or the most cruel agony; this rapidity of thought and feeling seems to me the efsential of poetry; and, though prosaic works may abound with them, where they are wanting verse loses its character. The art of poetry, then, I suppose chiefly to consist in cul- tivating the mind by the knowledge of nature, and directing the pafsions to objects capable of purifying VOL. i. r 258 On the Gooseberry Caterpillar. and exalting them, till the production of the poet be- comes truly " the echo and reflector of nature;" and nature so echoed and reflected, as to make an irresis- tible imprefsion on an unsophisticated heart. Poets have existed that have pofsefsed this divine power; and, when we next meet, we will indulge ourselves in the enjoyments that poetry affords; till then adieu! JULIA. To the Editor oj Recreations in Agriculture, c^c. RESPECTED EDITOR, I WAS not a little pleased to see in the fourth number of thy entertaining Recrea- tions, 8cc. a mode of destroying gooseberry caterpillars recommended, which I have always found to be the only effectual one, although various others have been tried. Any thing thrown upon the trees, sufficiently strong to destroy the insects or their eggs, will be found to do that which it is intended to prevent, viz. de- stroy the leaves. Any one who will adopt this method as recommended, will find themselves abundantly re- compensed for their trouble, by the greater quantity and size of the fruit they will thereby have, as well as by the preservation of the health of their trees; for I have invariably found, as far as my observations have extended, that gooseberry trees stripped of their leaves by caterpillars, or otherwise, have not only their fruit spoiled for the present year, but also their growth and disposition for bearing hurt for the next year, if not On the Gooselerry Caterpillar. 259 for ever. Thou wisely advisest to take them in time, which will indeed be a saving of trouble; but I have saved the fruit after they had made some progrefs in the bottom and middle of the tree, (as they always begin there) and even begun to spread themselves on the fruit-bearing branches, by carefully picking them off the leaves with my fingers, and have found myself more than rewarded even for this trouble. If these remarks can further induce any of thy readers to try a method which I believe to be the only one that will answer, they are at thy service, with my wishes for the prosperity of thy publication. I am thy friend, ARRA. The Editor begs leave here to add, as a farther cor- roboration of the good effects that result from the kind of attention above recommended, that his own bushes were entirely saved this season by adopting it, though the caterpillars seized upon them in such numbers, that, had they been neglected only for a few days, every leaf must have been entirely destroyed: nor did it appear to be an expensive procefs, for it seemed as if to save about fifty full sized bushes, no more than twelve hours labour of one person on the whole would have been required. In the same manner his beans were entirely saved; and, though he sowed no more this season than last year, he will gather perhaps a, thousand times the quantity of grain that he obtained last year. r 2 260 Particulars respecting the Groii'th To the Editor of Recreations in Agriculture, &c. sin, WHEN I first saw the prospectus of your work, I rejoiced to think that the time was ap- proaching when natural-history would come to be stu- died in the proper sense of the word (for I have long considered it as an abuse of the term, to call a mere sys- tem of nomenclature the history of nature). I thought that, when the conductor of a periodical miscellany ven- tured to deviate so boldly as you have done from the com- mon path, it was a pretty strong indication, that the public mind began to take a bias in that way; and I hope the succefs of your undertaking will prove that my conjecture has not been unfounded. I did not, however, so far confide in the prospectus, as to be perfectly free from doubts respecting the prosecution of the work ; for you know it is not an entire new thing, for the conductors of periodical works, to set out with profefsions that they do not expect to fulfil. I therefore suspended my opinion till I should see the work itself; and now, after reading the first five num- bers, I have satisfied my own mind, that if you shall be able to act up to the principles that appear to in- fluence you, so as to complete, with a proper degree of spirit, the plan you have so fully developed in your introduction, you will furnish a w r ork that will be at the same time both useful and entertaining. It must be owned, however, that you have engaged in an ar- duous undertaking ; but I hope you will be so sup- of the Horns of the Deer. 261 ported by the public, as to enable you to proceed in it with alacrity; and that health shall be continued to enable you to go on with satisfaction to yourself and benefit to the public. I now beg leave to transmit to you a few hints re- specting one of our domestic animals, which are not, I believe, very generally known among the people of this country. If these shall be deemed proper for your work, I shall take an opportunity of sending some others of a similar tendency from time to time. I am merely a matter of fact man, and shall not dilate very much in reasoning upon them, as I conclude that most of your readers will be as well pleased to reason on the facts themselves, as to peruse such ob- servations as might occur to me concerning them; neither will it be any part of my aim to make a long paper, or to pursue a subject till it be exhausted; I shall be contented with sending to you such facts as I can casually pick up, which, I think, may prove in- teresting, that are not very generally known ; and shall give you at all times full permifsion to make what use of them you please. Once more wishing you succefs, I am, A PLAIN MAN. Particulars respecting the Growth of the Horns of the Deer. THE deer tribe may be discriminated from most other quadrupeds chiefly by two circumstances, which respect their horns. The first is, that the male only 262 Observations on has any horns at all, the female being perfectly destitute of horns of any kind ; the second is, that these horns are in the perfect male of annual growth, they spring- ing up from the head, and gradually expanding till they attain their fullest extension of growth in the course of one year, when they fall off, and make room for a new annual shoot, which is to succeed in the ensuing season, and so on ; the size of the horns, and number of antlers augmenting with each year of the age of the animal, as long as it lives. A necef- sary consequence of this organization is, that if the horn of a deer be examined by a skilful observer, he can tell not only the age of the animal to which it did belong, but the season of the year also at which it hath been separated from the creature, even within a few days [A skilful venator afsured me he could with certainty pronounce within the space of one week as to this particular] ; from which circumstance many useful elucidations respecting distant events may with certainty be derived. There are other peculiarities re- specting the growth of these horns which are not lefs curious, nor lefs common among other animals than those just mentioned; on which account I shall here beg leave to state, with great precision, the circumstances that affect the growth and maturation of this singu- lar organ in respect to the fallow deer (Cervus damaj as taken down from the mouth of a skilful venator, who had been attentive to this and other peculiarities affecting this kind of game for upwards of fifty years together. The hart sheds his horns annuaHy towards the end of April and beginning of May; soon after which vegeto-animal Productions. 263 there spring up from the same place to which these had formerly adhered two soft bumps covered with a velvet-like down, which gradually push out in height till they attain their full size, and suffer a succefsion of changes of the following nature. During the early period of their growth, nothing can be more soft and tender than these are; nor can any thing exceed their sensibility at this period of their growth, as is evident by the great solicitude the animal displays to guard them then from every species of injury. The blood vefsels at this time much abound in this tender organ; and it is well known by epicures, that at this period, when properly drefsed, it furnishes a most delicate morsel of food. As it advances in growth, like as* paragus and most kinds of annual vegetables, it ac- quires a firmer consistence; the blood-vefsels diminish in size, and become more rigid, till they, by degrees, are so much contracted, as totally to disappear, and become at length a solid horny substance of great firmnefs. As this rigidity increases, the acutenefs of their sensibility decreases ; probably the animal then experiences a sensation like itchinefs in that organ, which induces him to rub it against trees And other solid substances he meets with, that rubs off the down, and sharpens the points of this weapon, with which nature hath provided him, seemingly to give him power during the rutting season, at which time it hath acquired its highest degree of perfection. From that period it becomes gradually ofsified (if the ex- prefsionmay be admitted) and insensible, till at length, the blood-vefsels being entirely obliterated, it loses all connection with the animal, and finally drops off from 264 Observations o?i it, to make way for a fresh crop during the succeeding? year, when the procreating power is, by nature, in-r tended to return. That the growth of the horn is connected with the generative faculty, and indeed depends entirely upon it in this animal, admits of the clearest demonstra- tion; for, if any individual of that species be deprived of the power of procreating, the horn is, from that moment, arrested in its progrefs : it grows no more; neither does it undergo the other evolutions to which it is subjected in the perfect animal. It remains sta- tionary from that period, and neither increases nor decays ; it never drops from the animal, but remains a permanent horn as long as the creature lives. If an accident affects only one side, it is the horn upon that side alone which is arrested in its progrefs; the other horn in this case continues to advance and go through its several evolutions, as if the creature had sustained no sort of injury. From this developement it appears, that individual animals may be found having perma- nent horns either in their downy or their horny state, and in all pofsible periods of their growth; and males also without any horns at all, according to circum- stances. The Editor is much obliged to the writer for these hints, and wishes he had extended them to some other particulars respecting the habits and natural economy of this, in some measure, exotic domesticated creature. This he will perhaps do on some future occasion. The voluntary separation of the males from the females at vegeto-ammal Production 1 !. 265 certain seasons of the year; the extreme leannefs of the males at one season, and their rapid fattening at another, even with very little food; the manner in which the time of fattening may be accelerated or re- tarded ; the season at which the venison of the buck, the wether, and the doe, are respectively in the great- est perfection, &c. are particulars which are not ge- nerally known, and which, as indicating an economy very different from that of most of our other domes- ticated animals, would probably prove interesting to our readers. It is very natural for us to judge of objects which we have not seen by those that have fallen under our obser- vation; but nothing can be more fallacious than this rule of judging respecting objects of natural-history, and few things have tended so much to mislead the judgment respecting it as this has done. All the horned animals yet known carry permanent horns, except the deer kind; and, if no animal of that species had been known in this country, we should have con- cluded that it was an universal law of nature, that horns were always permanent. Before the discovery of the properties of the polypus, it was supposed that all animals were propagated either by means of eggs, or parturition ; all animals were, in short, deemed either oviparous or viviparous: we now know that a numerous clafs of animated beings increase naturally by partition, or dividing themselves into two equal parts, each of which becomes a separate and distinct animal, which, in its turn, is multiplied by a second division, and so on ad infinitum^ It was known that plants could be propagated not only by seeds, but by 266 Observations on cuttings also, and by engrafting; but these were deemed distinctive characters of the vegetable king- dom, which served to discriminate it effectually from the animal world. Here we have found ourselves again in an error; for it is now well known, that many living creatures can be propagated by cuttings, and that some can even be engrafted upon each other. Let us then be cautious about deciding concerning the nature of things that have not been subjected to the test of ex- perience, and be ever attentive to observe facts, as they come in our way, with a cautious circumspection, and to avail ourselves of the information that these shall convey to the understanding. There are many animal productions that greatly ap- proximate to the nature of vegetables; but none of them that bear a more striking resemblance to them than the horns of the deer kind above described. Like those herbaceous plants whose stems are the produce of one season, but whose roots remain, they spring out from the head as the others do from the soil, when the genial temperature of the season impels them. At their first appearance they are soft and herbaceous, but gradually grow firmer and more rigid, till having, by degrees, attained to full maturity, they become hard and dry; and, at last, having lost all connexion with the root, by the drying up of the vefsels which served to convey nourishment to them, they fall off, leaving -the root in a state of health to produce a more vigorous shoot the ensuing season. The horns of the ox, and other animals with which we are familiar, approximate, on the other hand, more nearly to the nature of perennial plants; they vegetate vegeto-animul Productions. 267 like the former from an animal soil, with which their connexion is so intimate as never to pa'rt from it while the body from which they sprang continues to exist. In their growth they resemble the progrefs of those plants chiefly which spring from bulbous roots, among which it is a pretty general rule, that the growth, of the leaf especially, is at the base, and not at the point. The nails of the human hand, and those of the toes of animals in general, are also perennial, and vegetate nearly in the same manner; most of them contracting towards the points, to render them fitted for the purposes for which they were intended, and gradually advancing through the whole duration of the life of the creature to which they belong, in order to supply the daily waste to which they are subjected by wearing. Hairs, spines, feathers, &c. are all vegeto-animal productions of another sort; and, like the vegetables in our fields, are wonderfully diversified in their form, and other particulars. The hairs of the human head, eyebrows, and eye-lashes, are of many years duration: the first is of indefinite growth, as it may be made gra- dually to acquire a prodigious length ; while the others are like those dwarfish plants which never can be made to extend beyond a certain length. The eye- lashes in man, and the whiskers of cats, and many other animals, like mushrooms, attain, in a very short period of time, their full size; but, unlike to mush- rooms, they perish not. Having attained, in a rapid manner, their full growth, they then remain station- ary, neither sensibly advancing nor diminishing for many years. The wool of sheep, and the body hairs 268 Observations on of most animals, are of annual growth, which, having in due time attained their full length, they loosen from the skin and fall off, to give room for a new crop to succeed them. But, though nothing can more resemble the vege- tation of a plant than the growth of all these animal productions; yet, in many other respects, they hear very little resemblance to the vegetable kingdom. Every variety of these animo-vegetable productions is appropriated to a particular animal, and to a par- ticular part of that animal on which they spontaneously spring up : nor does it appear that they can be made to grow in any other way. They are, therefore, purely of animal organization, and can by no means be se- parately propagated, or be transplanted from one part of the body to another, or even from one animal to the same part of the body of another of the same spe- cies : they are not, therefore, endowed with any thing analogous to the parts of fructification in plants; nor is perspiration carried on among them by means of organs in any respect analogous to leaves. The shells of crustaceous fishes, such as lobsters, crabs, See. are also of animal growth; they seem to be produced by an exudation of an animal gluten at particular seasons, prepared for that purpose, which gradually hardens into a compact substance that covers the whole body as with a cloak, and does not seem to be produced by a gradual developement of parts, as in vegetables ; and, though it answers the same pur- pose as wool, hair, &c. in defending the body from external injuries, it seems in scarcely any other particu- lars to resemble them. Exactly analogous to this are the Objects of Taste. c 2Qg i skins of caterpillars and many other insects, which they change several times, while in their reptile state, at the seasons of their moulting. Were we to judge of animated nature in general by those peculiarities affecting the larger animals, which, at an early period of life, chiefly attract our notice, nothing could have appeared more contrary to the, usual course of nature than some of those deviations from it above mentioned; but to the attentive observer these, and many others which will come to be gradually developed as we pro- ceed, will appear wonderful. The various ways that Omnipotence hath chosen to adopt for effecting similar purposes are infinitely diversified, though each sort is confined to the most perfect regularity in its de- velopement, in regard to the particular object to which it relates* Reflections on Objects of Taste. " THAT there is no disputing about matters of taste," is a maxim that has been sanctioned by the approba- tion of ages ; yet, that there are more disputes carried on in society about matters of taste than perhaps on any other subject, will scarcely be denied by any one who adverts to the daily occurrences in common life. How are we to account for practice and principle being in such direct opposition to each other in this in- stance? Perhaps it may be done somewhat in this way: the maxim is the result of experience, and the practice originates in impulsive feeling only. A person who is pretty far advanced in life, even though he should 270 Reflections on Objects of Taste. not enter into any kind of deep investigation, must have had opportunities to observe, upon innumerable occasions, that such disputes seldom tend to convince either of the parties, so that he is forced to conclude they are futile and vexatious 5 but a young person, who is very highly pleased with any object that pre- sents itself, is so eagr to participate that pleasure with another, that he naturally enters with much keennefs on the subject. As it seldom can happen that the person to whom he addrefses himself is ca- pable of being affected to the same degree with him, he feels a kind of instinctive disappointment, and re- doubles his efforts to imprefs his ideas more strongly: they are not felt, and, of course, they cannot be un- derstood. The person addrefsed naturally exprefses his own perceptions on the subject : these, in their turn, are not understood; and thus they go on, each party growing warmer and warmer in the argument, with- out ever considering that it is altogether impofsible for one person to communicate ideas to another which originate in perceptions that had never made the slight- est impulse upon the sensorium of that person. We should smile at the absurdity of seeing any one enter seriously into an argument with a blind man upon the nature of colours, because it would be obvious to all the parties concerned from the beginning, that one of them was, from an evident natural defect, totally incapable of ever forming just ideas on the subject; but with regard to those nicer perceptions which have a reference to objects of taste only, though I had lately occasion to show [Introduction to Natural-his- tory, page 20] that they are in some individuals to- Reflections on Objects of Taste. 271 tally wanting; yet, as that deficiency is not apparent, and can only be discovered by others in consequence of mental communication; and as the parties them- selves are, in few cases, capable of discovering a want in any of these perceptions whenever it does actually exist, and are still more unwilling to acknowledge that defect should they suspect it to exist, we have more reason to regret that such arguments should take place, than to be surprised that they do frequently occur. These circumstances, however, having been observed by reflecting men among our forefathers, have given rise to the adage that forms the subject of our present difsertation, the justnefs of which has been confirmed by the unanimous concurrence of thinking men ever since. It would be well, then, if the thoughtlefs would so far acquiesce in the propriety of it, as to deem it invariably a breach of good man- ners to enter into any argument upon the subject ; for this would prevent a great and unnecefsary expenditure of unavailing words, and, in many cases, obviate bad humour and contentious bickerings, which end in hostile estrangements from each other. I do not think it necefsary, however, that this kind of polite- nefs should be carried so far as to exclude matters of taste from conversation. This would occasion a vast blank in the mental intercourse of society (for the pleasure which results from an intercourse of senti- ment, where that can be felt by all the parties, is, per- haps, the very highest that man in this life can enjoy). I can see no harm in any one frankly giving his opi- nion in matters of taste, if it be so exprefsed as not to imply that that opinion is necefsarily just; and that, 272 'Reflections on Objects of Taste. of course, all others which do not quadrate with it must be wrong; but simply to exprefs it with ease and politenefs, without endeavouring to force others to be of the same opinion. Indeed, common sense would indicate this to be the proper conduct, as we find it impofsible to establish any standard for matters of taste that must be demonstrably just. It must, at last, be all resolved into feeling and perception: and, as it is impofsible to cbllect the opinions of the majo- rity of persons, and as these public opinions, could they be collected, are liable to perpetual fluctuation and change, it behoves every one to judge for himself in the best way he can. Taste, then, like orthodoxy, can admit of but one just definition, which is that of the honest bishop, who, on being asked, said, " Orthodoxy is my doxy, and heterodoxy is any other man's doxy." " Good taste," each of us may say, " is- my taste, and bad taste is that of any other person wha differs from me." Let us, then, with complacency and good-nature, allow every one to indulge his own; notion in these respects without annoyance, whenever he does not endeavour to deprive us of our own legi- timate prerogative of judging for ourselves also; but, whenever we meet with one who infringes upon these just rights of every individual, let him be hooted out of society as a violator of the sacred laws of good neighbourhood. These reflections have been suggested by several letters I have received from different quarters, in con- sequence of the few hints I ventured to throw out re- specting poetry in answer to the query of Mlra. The writers of these letters pretty unanimously concur, 'Reflections on Objects of Taste. 273 sorhe of them with a gentle politenefs, others with a petulant peevishnefs, in prefsing me to say what it is that I deem good poetry; let the above be my apo-<- logy for not entering minutely into an answer to that question. A piece of poetry will be very good accord- ing to one person's taste, that would be altogether intolerable to another. As this is undoubtedly the case, it behoves me to be extremely careful in my selections, and not to admit such as I think may prove highly disgusting to any one. The maxim universally admitted in our tribunals of justice, that it is better that ten guilty should escape than one innocent perish, ought to be here reversed; and I should hold it better to reject ten good than to let one bad article pafs; for things that are merely ornamental may be easily dispensed with in a serious work of this sort. In complaisance to my young readers, I shall beg leave farther to hint, that in few respects do the per- ceptions of the same person differ more in an advanced period of life from those of his youth, than in what relates to poetry. At the dawn of life almost every kind of poetical imagery is new to him, and therefore appears pleasing; but, as he advances in years, the same figures often recurring among poetical efsayists, they become, in a short time, tiresome; and, at last, intolerably disgusting. The frequent recurrence of ge- neral and unappropriated phrases, of breezes and lilies, and sighs and roses, have therefore justly obtained the name of common place, which every poetical ef- sayist should avoid, as he would do fire that would quickly consume. Imitations, even of the best things, should, for the same reason, be carefully shunned. The VOL. I. S 274 Reflections on Objects of Taste. integer vitce of Horace is one of his most beautiful odes ; yet it has been imitated under such an infinite variety of forms in every language of Europe, as to make the thought, however beautiful, under every disguise it can be now made to afsume, perfectly nau- seating to a person of general reading; yet what could be more likely to happen, than for a boy who at school had been delighted with that ode, to imitate that very poem, and to think his imitation, like " Where I laid on Greenland's coast," &c. a very fine poem. Again, Shenstone's ballads, though abound- ing in quaint conceits which are totally incompatible with the genuine feelings of nature, yet are well cal- culated, by the glare of their tinsel, to captivate the inexperienced heart, and thus to produce imitators innumerable, who, if they can but reach the trot of the verse, think they are moving with an elegance that must captivate every beholder; without recol- lecting that that very trot, as soon as it is perceived, will make a very numerous clafs of readers" turn from it instantly with disgust. It was this very sensation which induced the Roman poet to cry out, with such an indignant warmth, " imitatores servum pecus!" A young writer should never forget, that what could excite so strong a sensation in a cultivated mind, must be something more than usually bad; and that, there- fore, imitations of ever)' sort cannot be too much guarded against. There is a modern short poem which has met with universal applause, and yet has been seldom imitated. Why? Its excellence is such as to convince every imitator, at the first reading, that his own attempt Reflections on Objects of Taste. 275 falls infinitely short of it; and, of course, the imita- tion is supprefsed. The poem to which I here allude is the ballad of " John Gilpin," a performance of such spirit and genuine humour, as to prove irresistibly captivating to every description of men, from those of the most cultivated understanding to the most illiterate boor. This I would produce as a contrast, in one sense, to Milton's Allegro. What Milton has only described, Cooper has realised. In the one case the mind re- mains unmoved, while a brilliant pageant is made to pafs before it; the skill of the operator strikes us as the principal object: in the other, the operator is quite forgotten; the mind is hurried along without any kind of reflection ; and without ever bestowing a thought on mirth' or gaiety, we - feel ourselves gay and cheerful, and irresistibly impelled to " laughter, (holding both his sides)." Though the form of the verse be purposely antiquated, yet there is originality alike in the primary idea of the whole, in the sepa- rate thoughts, and in the exprefsions, with a pure vein of unborrowed humour throughout, that is bewitch- ingly exhilarating. A poem of this cast, however, pofsefses one advan- tage that scarcely attaches to those of any other sort. It is alike suited to affect the minds of persons of all descriptions; whereas those that are calculated to ex- cite the finer feelings, can only affect those who have natural perceptions of a particular kind, and a culti- vated taste. When David Hume attempted to appre- ciate the merits of Shakespeare and of Bacon, he dis- covered a want that was extremely obvious to others, though he himself perceived it not. To reason with s 2 270 Reflections on Objects of Taste. such a man concerning matters of taste, would be like arguing with a blind man on the nature of colours ; for, were you to argue with him to eternity, it would be impofsible to make him sensible that his percep- tions were, in the smallest degree^ defective. When Milton says, there was " no light, but rather darknei's visible;" such a person would tell you the exprefsion was a palpable absurdity > and that it indicated an un- pardonable want of knowledge to make use of it: and who can deny that it is a most absurd exprefsion to one who cannot feel its sublimity at the -moment it is uttered? These are not objects of reasoning, but of perception only. It is this delicacy of perception;, then, which "glances from earth to heaven," and makes such a combination of images as are calculated to produce an unexpected train of ideas which excite the most powerful emotions in congenial minds, that constitutes the efsence of a poetical talent. Under the hands of such a person every object becomes appropriate and original. The most trifling thing in nature gives rise to ideas of the most engaging kind, which soothe the imagination and captivate the soul. The following little poem, which is one of a number on similar subjects written many years ago, though not very generally known, will serve to relieve the mind of the reader after this tiresome difsertation, and will prove a more powerful illustration than any thing else I could add. It is the performance of Homer: not Dan Homer of Greece; but Mr. Peter Homer of England, who died a few years ago, and whose little poetical pieces are much lefs> known than they deserve to be. Reflections on Objects oj Taste. 277 To the Crocus. *' Upright as are the thoughts of her I prize, Second of flow'rs, though little can'st thou boast May charm the sight, or gratify the smell, I love thee ! for of all this goodly scene Which we behold, nought earlier than thyself My soul remembers. In my boyish years I've marked thy coming with incefsant watch ; Oft have I visited each morn the spot Wherein thou lay'st entomb'd; oft joy'd to see Thy pointed tops just piercing through the ground j And, ah ! fond fool ! how often hast thou bar'd Their tender sides, till thy too greedy love Has kill'd the flow'rs its strange impatience strove To hasten into bloom ! So do not ye Whom Heav'n has blest with children ; but beware, Lest ye expose your darling hopes too soon To the world's fury, there to face the winds Whose bitter biting chills the weakly plant; But shield them with your kind and fost'ring aid, Till they have gather'd strength t' abide those frosts That nip life's op'ning bud, else ye, perhaps, May find your hopes all blasted, ev*n as mine. " Ye much lov'd Crocuses, while mem'ry lasts, I'll hold ye dear; for still ye shall recall My infant days! And, oh! how great's the blifs To think on those ! Oft does this soul inhale The sweet remembrance, till the strong perfume Tortures the sense; for say whate'er ye will, And call to memory departed joys, Tis but a painful pleasure; in themselves 278 Reflections on Objects of Taste. Our purest joys are intermixt with cares; But in the recollection of those joys The sordid dregs of intermingling care Sink to the ground, while all the blifs sublim'd Is efsence pure, too pregnant to be borne." P. H. And is it not allowable, you ask, to imitate any of those sublime poets who havedelighted mankind for ages? Yes. Imitate them, by doing as they would have done had they been in your place. Consult, with a keen dis- minative eye, the grand book of nature that lies open before you, as it did to them, and exprefs, with un- affected energy, the sensations it inspires. If nature intended you for a poet, the ideas will suggest ex- prefsions becoming the subject ; and nothing else can ever do it. It was the sublime idea struggling for vent that forced the exprefsion of " darknefs visible" upon Milton : had not his sense of the power of har- monic sounds been singularly vivid, he could never have thought of " strains that might create a soul under the ribs of death." Never forget, that' " Verse may be good, but poesie wants more." If you still ask what is that more? I can only answer, that, if you do not feel it yourself, you may be per- fectly satisfied that you do not pofsefs it; and, there- fore, you will do well to avoid entering upon a path which never was intended for you to tread with ho- nour to yourself, or satisfaction to others. It does not, however, follow, that if you are capable of conceiving what it is, you are therefore pofsefsed of genuine poetical powers. The electric fluid may ex- Index Indicatorius. 279 1st in a dormant state, which can be called into ac- tivity by extraneous excitation, though it be not so vivid as to burst forth into brilliant coruscations by the force of its own internal powers alone. Index Indicatorius. FOR the sake of comprefsing them into a smaller compafs than they would occupy in their separate state, the Editor proposes, under the title adopted above, to communicate the substance of such short notices as he shall receive from different correspondents, which he shall think deserving the attention of his readers, while he will omit the introductory parts, that could prove little interesting to any one. H. G. H. mentions an active extirpator of the seeds of the dandelion, which may be employed with singu- lar profit on some occasions. " The extirpator that I mean," says he, " is an old sow, which continued full three weeks daily, from morning till evening, in a field adjoining to the homestead of a farm I frequently visit, devouring the flowers of the dandelion, and nothing else. The field having been laid down for hay, she was at first driven out of it; but my friend the farmer having watched her narrowly, and finding that she invariably eat off the flowers of the dandelion, and them only, left her to range after them at her pleasure, which she did with the greatest eagernefs, allowing herself but little time to seek after her wash, or other things at the homestead, so long as her favourite' food in the field lasted} and the alteration in her appear- 280 Index Indicator ius. ance for the better during this time was surprising, I have only to add, that the flowering of the dandelion was over before the grafs was long enough to sustain any material injury." To the above the Editor begs leave to add, that in America the same animal is found to be the most effectual eradicator of the rattle snake yet known, which seems to be a morsel of animal food equally delicate to her palate as that of dandelion in the vegetable kingdom, and she searches for them with an equal degree of avidity; nor does she fear their poison, which has no effect at all upon her, though it is well known to be endowed with an extraordinary virus with respect to man and other domestic animals. Deer, in America, we had lately occasion to observe (page 234) eat the mountain laurel, which is said to be poisonous to most other animals. Goats eat the seeds of the daturum stramonium without any ill ef- fect, though it is deleterious to the human race; and mix vomica is said to be poisonous only to such ani- mals as are born blind. It is probable, that by at- tending carefully to the natural propensities of the animals we have it in our power to command, man may be enabled to extirpate many plants and animals that are prejudicial to him, without trouble or ex- pense; perhaps with profit to himself. The sheep is extremely fond of the common ragwort (senecio ja- cola] when young, though no other domestic animal will taste it; and there can scarcely be a doubt that, were they to be turned very early in the season into a field where it abounds, it would be so much eaten down as to prevent it from coming into flower, and thus it might be quickly extirpated, or, at least, Index Indicatorius, 281 greatly diminished. Nor does it appear that ants, and other insects, where they abound to an intolerable degree, could be so effectually extirpated by any other means as that of introducing a number of ant bears, or other creatures who search for these insects, and devour them by millions at a time by way of food. There is, in this case, no clanger that their industry will ever slacken. Were it not for the birds that frequent our gardens, and insects which prey upon each other, the numbers of these diminutive creatures produced would be such as soon to overpower the utmost industry of man, and put an end to his miserable existence. The in- genious Dr. Bradley has computed that a pair of spar- rows carried to their young in one week not lefs than three thousand three hundred and sixty caterpillars; at which rate, in the course of three months, this fa- mily would consume forty-three thousand six hundred and eighty caterpillars. Let any one compute the da- mage that these caterpillars, and the infinite progeny that must have ifsued from them, would have done in that period, had they been permitted to get into their winged state, and he will then see reason to doubt how far we do wisely to extirpate these birds, because of the tasting they take of our grain and fruit when they come to maturity. It has been often remarked, that after an extensive rookery has been eradicated on account of the damage it did to the corn fields in the neighbourhood, 'those fields both of grafs and corn have been so infested by grubs, as to yield crops much inferior to those which had been reap- ed from the same fields while the rooks were there; for it is well known that these creatures are so foncl 282 Index Indicatorius. of grubs, as to prefer them to every other kind of food, and are therefore in perpetual search of them, which they pick up and devour in immense multi- tudes. All of the tribe are excefsively fond of grubs; but, perhaps, no one of that clafs is so well calculated to hunt for them as the Cornish chough; for its bill is longer and sharper, and therefore better calculated to go deep in the earth after them, while it is also en- dowed with a more restlefs activity than any other of the species. - A tame bird of that kind was long kept in the garden of Sir Joseph Banks, Bart, in this neighbourhood; and during that time few plants suf- fered any damage from the grub. These grubs are very fond of eating the tender stalks under ground of young cabbages ; and in some seasons whole fields of cabbages are thus rendered uselefs. A common ex- ercise with Jack in a morning was to go to one end of a row of cabbages, and examine the bottom of the stem with care ; he seemed to know very well, probably by the smell, whether there was a grub there : and if that was the case, he plunged his long bill deep into the mould, and seldom failed to bring it up. Thence he proceeded to the next plant, and so on in a regular progrefsion, until he had got as much as he could eat at that time. He then gave over; but failed not to return to the same employment as soon as his returning appetite stimulated him to it. Were we in this way sufficiently acquainted with the na- tural propensities and powers of all the creatures that might be brought within our reach, it is highly pro- bable that we should be able easily to free ourselves from many inconveniencies that are now extremely perplexing to man. Index Indicatonus. 283 The same correspondent, H. G. H. takes notice of the immense lofs that this country sustains from the great waste of night soil, and other manures that are carried off unprofitably, or unproductively buried in waste corners about the metropolis, and proposes that some establishment should be adopted to prevent this evil. The amazing want of economy that takes place in this respect in England in general, but particularly about the capital, must strike every observing stranger in a most forcible manner, and must suggest a train of reflections to every considerate mind re- specting the manners of the people and the political state of this country, in as far as it respects the claf- sification of employments, and the progrefs of industry; but it is doubtful how far the public mind is as yet prepared for entering into these discufsions at this moment with a rational prospect of its being attended with all the beneficial effects that could be wished for. This subject will not be lost sight of by the Editor; though it is probable that little harm will result from his declining to enter profefsedly, and at much length, upon it at the present hour. U. S. H. complains that the Editor has not con- cluded the subject of Mr. Forsyth's management of fruit-trees. He might have observed, that the Editor never considered himself qualified to enter fully into that subject, and that he only proposed to give some hints to awaken curiosity, and to excite Mr. Forsyth himself to undertake to complete it. Having suc- ceeded so far as to obtain Mr. Forsyth's solemn pro- mise to go on with all pofsible dispatch in completing a treatise on that subject, he thinks he should have acted improperly with respect to that gentleman, had 2S4 Index Indicatnrius. he endeavoured to anticipate him in any respect; nor should he have benefited his readers so much as he wishes: because his representation of things must have been defective in many respects, and erroneous. Under these circumstances he could not with propriety have done otherwise than he has done. He has reason to believe that the public will have an opportunity of receiving full information on these points in due time, from the only person who can do it properly, the discoverer himself. Arra very properly observes, that philosophers some- times fall into mistakes. This will be readily ad- mitted; for the philosophers of even Italy itself will not now pretend to infallibility; a necefsary inference is, that it behoves those who can discover these mis- takes to correct them. He is not satisfied with the principles developed in the efsay on cooling-houses, and thinks he can adduce facts, or arguments, that will show them to be erroneous. If so, the Editor thinks it is a duty that gentleman owes to the public to bring forward those facts, and the arguments that result from them. Should he choose this miscellany as the vehicle for such a communication, the Editor will study to do them all the justice in his power. His aim is to inform, not to mislead his readers; and he hopes that all his correspondents will agree with him in thinking, that the person who corrects an. error in any of these writings, performs a inuch more acceptable service than one who should try to sup- port an erroneous hypothesis. Arra, however, will do well to weigh all his facts sufficiently before he writes ; for the circumstance to which he slightly al- ludes, if nothing else is to be adduced, will by nq Index Indicator} us. 985 means authorise the conclusion he seems to be in-* clined to draw from it, as he himself, it is presumed^ will readily perceive when he considers better of it. A Water-drinker recommends to my notice, in terms of the highest approbation, a new contrivance for freeing water from filth and other impurities, which he says has been, to him, a source of the highest lux- ury ; as it has furnished him at all times a pure and wholesome beverage, of which he was often before in want. The Editor has seen at Guildhall the appara- tus this gentleman so highly recommends ; and for all the purposes he mentions, it seems very obvious that the encomiums are exaggerated; for there was doubtlefs no difficult)' in furnishing a water-drinker with a quantity sufficient for his own use of pure water long before this apparatus was thought of. This is not meant to derogate from the merits of that truly useful invention, which is both simple, elegant, and efficacious, but to place it on its true footing. A common filtering stone can purify water, while it is new, perhaps equally well with the patent filtering ap- paratus ; but the quantity of water that can be thus purified is, comparatively speaking, so small, and the pores of the stone are so soon clogged up with impu- rities, as to give to this new apparatus an infinite pre- ference above the old. By an attestation I saw, signed by three captains in the royal navy, it appears that the machine they examined was capable of purifying: sevtn hundred and twenty gallons of water in twenty-four hours; and, from an examination of the principles on which the machine is formed, it is obvious that it could very easily be so constructed, with scarcely any additional expense, as to purify ten times that quan- 286 Index Indicatorius. tity were it necefsary. Under this point of view, one of these machines is equal in power to perhaps a thou- sand of the others; and, as it admits of being per- fectly cleansed from those impurities which have been separated from the water, in the course of a few mi- nutes, with very little labour, it must remain for ages, (if the wood does not wear out,) as perfect in its ope- ration as when it was first put up. When we reflect that in many cases small insects are a considerable pro- portion of the matter separated, and that these when retained in the pores of a filtering stone after they are dead must be gradually difsolved and washed down with the water pafsing through it, such water, though limpid, can never be accounted pure; so that the power of being so readily cleansed must give this ap- paratus a wondrous superiority above every other, where delicacy is concerned. For culinary purposes this is a manifest advantage; and this benefit is still heightened in private families on account of the quan- tity of water that can be thus obtained. Where a common filtering stone is employed, little more pure water can be obtained than is wanted for drink- ing and for making tea in a large family; but for boiling meat and other purposes, water with all its filth and impurities about it must be used : and no doubt but much of that filth is deposited in the pores of the meat during the procefs of boiling. To obtain pure water in larger quantities, some persons are in the practice of first boiling it, and then allowing the sediment to subside before it be used; but this procefs, if the price were fairly computed, would be found to be enormously expensive. For ordinary families, therefore, who value cleanli- , Index Indicator ins. 287 nefs and health, this apparatus must be of great uti- lity; for those persons who wash linen in quantities, it must be still more so; but to paper-makers, dyers, and other manufacturers to whom pure water in large quantities is absolutely necefsary, but which, in many cases, cannot be obtained but at particular times, this apparatus must be of inestimable value. A. B. thinks that too small a proportion of this work is appropriated to agriculture, and makes a cal- culation with an intention to show how long he thinks it will be before a complete body of agriculture will thus be obtained. The Editor must have exprefsed himself very imperfectly if he gave the reader rea- son ever to expect such a treatise; for it certainly was not his intention so to do. The very title he afsumed [Recreations in Agriculture] should, he thinks, have precluded that idea. His object is rather to afsist the agriculturist in his researches, by directing the attention to such objects as may appear to be of im- portance, and collecting such information respecting them as shall appear to be useful, than to give a re- gular treatise on all the branches of agriculture, with many of which he must himself be lefs perfectly ac- quainted than some of his readers. On this plan, though each number, it is to be hoped, will contain some useful information to those who relish this sub- ject, yet the time will never arrive when the subject will be exhausted, and the work thus brought to a final period ; for, as our knowledge in that branch of science must be progrefsive, there will still remain room for additional observations. As to the rest, it being impofsible for the Editor to comply with the wishes of every reader, as those wishes often clash, I 288 Index Indicalorius. he must study to adhere, in general, to his original plan, tmlefs where the general opinion shall be de- cidedly averse from it. In one particular this writer will find his achice will be adopted. Communications from Amicus, Ari-stides, N. N". A. X. Z. Bob Brayers, C. F. H. and several others, have been received, and are under consideration. The Editor finds it his duty, at the close of this vo- lume, to return Ids warmest thanks to the public for the very favourable reception they have given to his work. He has experienced, on this occasion, that Ike pullic is ever disposed kindly to overlook the defects incident to an incipient undertaking; and he hopes that, now the introductory part is finished, he shall le able to proceed in a manner yet more satisfactory to his readers, as it will le more in his power to avail himself of the talents of others than he could do in developing his plan. It will ever le his study, thtiugh he finds it utterly impossible to gratify the wishes of all his readers, to adopt such improvements as shall seem to accord with the desires of the principal part of them; and, as he finds it is a pretty general wish that the agriculture and natural-history should not be paged separately, he will, in future, alandoji that plan, and make the whole run on under one series of pages, merely indi- cating that these subjects will le continued from one number to another, by making a stop where the subject natural iij admits of it. THE END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. JPrintcd by T. EENSLEY, Bolt Court, Fleet Street, London. ij<^ ^iir^i i